Speaking of sacred landscapes (which admittedly I have not done for some time), Emme has sent me from Bhutan a picture of a tree she especially liked, the Bodhi tree in the courtyard of the Punakha Dzong, which is said to be the most beautiful dzong (fortress) in Bhutan—and the site of the remains of the lama that founded it in the early 17th century. This immense structure, built entirely without joints or nails of interlocking timber, is the winter capital of Bhutan, and contains the throne room of the King. The canopy of the tree nearly fills the courtyard, alongside a white-washed stupa. A neighboring space provides residence to the monks; and the final courtyard is lined with temples that throng with giant Buddhas and richly-colored paintings of Padmasambhava, the sage who brought Buddhism to Tibet. At least, so I read!
Having traveled to Paro, Haa, Punakha, and Thimphu—sitting with Buddhist nuns in a prayer ceremony and being taught traditional art by them, helping farmers plant rice in terraced rice paddies, visiting a radio station to learn about national media, trying Bhutanese archery, going to a youth dance festival, and surviving both a rafting accident and the illness that resulted from having drunk so much river water—she is currently trekking near Paro and visiting Tiger Mountain Monastery. A trip not without its challenges, discomforts, and risks; but I hope all the more rewarding for that. We look forward to the full report!
I imagine—and it’s just an image, but it’s a beautiful one—trees linking place to place around the world, creating an infinitely complex network of biological life, cultural meaning, and spiritual connection across the planet. My Vermont maple, this Bodhi tree in the dzong, a tree being climbed by kids somewhere in Norway, another full of goats in Morocco, a redwood dripping with moisture in the Pacific Northwest.
It may be just a picture; but there are worse ways to picture the world than as a place full of trees.
