One of the nice things my brief sojourn to Songpan was meeting Vanessa, an American teaching in Burma. We ended up sharing a room and travel stories in Langmusi. We had breakfasts at a tiny restaurant where the owner was a tiny muslim lady who loved flowers. All the wall papers, curtains, her jacket have flower prints on, and a vase of flowers from nearby mountain slopes was sitting on a stove top — she let the big stove rest for the summer. “They are everywhere”, she told us when I asked about the small yellow flowers on pine like branches. She wished she could have some free time to pick some more, some of her flowers were starting to wilt.

Vanessa went on to do an over-night horse riding trip with Shike’s team. That day when she was away, in the afternoon, I took a short walk to the hills by Langmusi. The wild flowers overwhelmed me in ways I couldn’t find words to describe. Nothing was noted down on my notebook I thought I’d write on, but I did return with a whole bunch of flowers in bright yellow, red, purple, pink. It felt wonderful. And it felt even better seeing the “flower lady” at the small shop with a big smile when she received her fresh additions. Vanessa and I returned the next morning for more breakfast and to take pictures of the new flowers.

It warms my heart to know anyone who love flowers, especially the one who doesn’t seem to have the time for that kind of “pastime”. I added a new flower vase too, made out of a beer can to the small table by my bed. It held some flowers I picked, and a small piece of the mountains.