2020-3-fall-screen

I’ve always loved getting
outside, but especially so
after moving to Korea. I come
from a high desert area in the
Rocky Mountains in the US where the
tallest natural tree is a pale green
sagebush. There are, of course, some
beautiful parks and golf courses with
real shade trees in town, but nothing
so rich and natural as the forests that
make up the blanket of mountain
coverings in Korea.
In spring, Korea’s mountains are
mottled with pink, yellow, and
white blossoms as chartreuse green
buds begin sprouting again. In the
summer, mountain forests provide
a cooling respite from the moist
heat and blistering sun, and many
trails run along valleys where clear,
flowing water cascades into deep
blue pools you can see the bottoms
of. In the fall, Korea’s mountains are
set ablaze with a fire of brilliant red,
orange, and yellow leaves; the air is
crisp and dry, and winter approaches.
And even in the winter, the dead,
brown forests reflect a sparkling
brilliance of life when covered with
a fresh powder of pure, white snow.
Jeollabuk-do is filled with such
spaces. Its mountains contain wellworn
trails that attract outdoor
enthusiasts from all over the country.
If you’ve lived in Korea for some time,
you’ve likely heard of some of them:
Jirisan (Namwon), Deokyusan (Muju),
Moaksan (Jeonju), Maisan (Jinan),
Naejangsan (Jeongeup). But the best,
less famous mountain in Jeollabuk-do
has to be Sunchang’s Gangcheonsan.
It is filled with all the best features
of Korea’s mountains through all
seasons and more. And the first time I
ever visited, I saw something I’d never
seen before in a mountain in Korea: a
dozen artists with paints and canvases
out, painting sweeping panoramas.
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