Rice patties. They surround our apartment, line my running trails, and haunt my dreams. The standing water attracts those horrifying, humming clouds of mosquitoes, whom our friend Graham has rightfully dubbed "orifice tourists."
But most importantly, rice patties are the life force of Korean agriculture.
Also, they are beautiful.
The latter I have believed since first moving to Korea. The former I did not fully appreciate until earlier this spring when the planting began.
I have been surrounded by agriculture, specifically corn, the majority of my life. Combines raking through endless rows of golden stalks are a far more familiar sight to me than mountains, beaches, cities, the sea—just about anything I see here, in fact.
Rice planting is much different, but no less intriguing.
I'd like to understand the biology behind this. But for now, just gazing at the seemingly floating gardens atop still water is enough for me. Certainly enough for me to stop during my run every once in a while and appreciate both the aesthetics of the fields and the work ethic of the farmers and their manual tools.
Dad took the above photos of the planting process when he was here in May. Earlier this week, I took a few updated shots of the fields:
Beautiful.
