It’s becoming increasingly difficult traveling around with Fina on the bus. She doesn’t understand that it’s dangerous to run up and down the aisle, and screams uncontrollably when we don’t let her, so after a nerve-racking ride home from Seoul last night, we decided to just go to the little temple by the mountain close to our house instead of our usual visit to Bongeunsa. The small, humble gathering on the mountain trail was much more intimate than the crowd that usually consumes Bongeunsa. A softness emanated from the gathering that you don’t usually feel at the big temples. This definitely wasn’t a place you’d go to be seen, but rather a place you are lead to by sincerity.
A spring rain dripped down from the freshly blossomed leaves, that covered the hills in misty green. Though the rain was doing the job on its own, we took turns bathing the baby Buddha, split at its shoulder and across its back.
A small tent was set up beside the open kitchen and we were given a dish of bibimbap and a bowl of doenjang soup.
It wasn’t the usual grand day we enjoyed on past holidays, but it was much nicer.