This work originated two years ago when, at a friend's invitation, I explored Taiwan's "Zhiben Cross-Ridge Ancient Trail." My thoughts extended from the road/land to the ocean and some gentle memories.
The occasion for this visit was my friend who said, "He wanted to walk on that 'road that is and isn't a road,' to see and experience it." Walking on this "road that is and isn't a road," my friends used machetes and sickles to lightly trim the wild plants covering the trail without damaging the ecosystem, allowing the path, once used by indigenous people and colonizers, to reveal itself temporarily. This made it possible for us to walk through the seemingly insignificant jungle and slowly get to know this forest trail. During the hike, besides observing the surrounding natural ecology and scenery, and the animal remains on the ground, I was reminded of early human migrations, which were purely for finding land or food to survive, or places to avoid hunger and death—and to move. The "road" was gradually formed during this movement. However, as cultures became more complex, the roads created by migration became channels for colonizers to develop and control. Fortunately, this "road that is and isn't a road" was prone to landslides due to its fragile geology, making it difficult for vehicles to pass, thus deterring colonizers and rulers from fully opening it. This allowed it to retain its natural evolutionary rhythm in a contemporary context.
Following its natural rhythm, gradually moving further away from the head of the road where the motorcycle was parked. Yet, in this environment, which felt much like being inland, we could still catch glimpses of the 'sea' in the distance, shining in brilliant blue. In the following days, this scene, whether on the way to the Hunter's Lodge or toward Jiada Nai Shan Mountain, could still be seen, presenting a silhouette of the sea. Looking at the sea, it was as if, against all scientific reason, we could hear the sound of the waves. This sensation was just like what William Wordsworth described: "Though inland far we be, Our Souls have sight of that immortal sea." Standing on this verdant path or land, my eyes were often drawn to that seemingly distant yet not so far sea.
On the way back in the afternoon, as i rested front a banyan tree adorned with a thousand beards, watching the tree, the image of the sea still floated in my mind. I remembered how, I asked my friends who had done some research on this place, 'Do you know if there are any stories related to the sea in the lives of the tribes here?' After thinking for a bit, one friend responded, 'The Katratripulr tribe (Puyuma), close to here, doesn't seem to have many legends related to the sea.' This juxtaposition of being physically so close to the sea yet so far in memory prompted my thoughts and feelings to involuntarily wander towards the 'sea' nearby, It seemed I could faintly smell the salty scent left by the sea. Gentle thoughts gradually unfolded by the timeless banyan tree, slowly stretched out by the natural rhythm—abstractly expanded.
