I was visiting Ubud, the village where artists live, and decided to take a walk into the hills above. I followed a path that lead up a steep climb into the hills. Somewhere far above, I had heard, was a temple. The path led through a thickly wooded area where a forest of banyan trees grew. How magnificent was this forest, perhaps even godly.
Banyan trees are beautiful, and they grow with such grandeur.
When one sees them for the first time there is little wonder that the Balinese believe that the forests where they grow are sacred. Here in the dark expanse of shade, the legend goes, their gods triumph. The forest, green and damp and heavy with the scent of decay, is especially welcoming in late afternoons, when the tropical sun is most fierce, and here in the cool shade, the world seems to be still. I found a place to sit and rest at the roots of a spreading banyan tree. Pencil-thin shafts of sun light filtered down through the foliage and flecked the forest floor in delicate patches of gold.