Solacegirl

We were heading toward the Banyan Temple.  The name wasn’t just a clever title.  The banyan tree had taken over, uprooting the large stones as it sought to secure itself.  One tree started where the next one ended.  Its roots winding around steps, walls and windows; a reminder of how easily God’s creation can take over what is man-made.  This is just what we saw from the outside.

As I stepped out of the van my German skin rosied up quickly in the heat and humidity.  I looked for the nearest shade.  Our guide was concerned enough to stop by a vendor to buy me a wide brimmed hat with the word “Angkor” printed in big bold letters across the front.  She seemed to be looking out for me.  Earlier in the week she brought me a bag of mangosteens in hopes that by me consuming them I would get my ankles back.  I don’t know if they really helped my cankles, but it was some of the best tasting fruit I’ve ever had.

The banyan wasn’t the only thing that I noticed on the drive in.  There were elephants everywhere; large, loping creatures effortlessly transporting people from point A to point B.

“Riding an elephant is on my life list,” I mentioned to the Sistahs.

“Then we’ll have to do it,” replied one of them, “My treat.”

They ushered me over up the steps into the banyan tree and onto our seat on top of the elephant.  I reached down ever so slowly and brushed by fingers against its skin.  The softness surprised me.  The lurch forward caught us off guard, and we giggled with delight as we started the slow procession into the temple.