Moon Festival

It is a national holiday -- the full moon of September. From what we hear, everyone goes back to their family home and has a barbecue. We heard about Taimali, a village high in the mountains that grows day lilies for people to use in cooking. It didn't take long to get to the turn off, straight down the highway. But then we took the road into the mountains. It curled like a sidewinder, narrow and steep, and cars rocketed down the other direction, not wanting to waste too much brakepad. Fortunately there were mirrors at all the sharpest bends so you could see what was coming.
At the top, we found hillsides of lilies and bamboo. We had our picnic, 85 dumplings (round and white for the moon) and went walking. We were in the clouds, but the wind blew them away once in a while, and we could see straight down the mountain to the shore, where the sea was a pallet of blues, and the city we live in was a spread of white in the distance.
We were with friends, two American boys who have lived here their whole life, Raymond and Brian. Late in the afternoon, we brought them back to where their parents are building a beach house. We played in the sea and waited for the moon to rise. Just as it grew dark, a large Chinese lantern, glued together out of tissue paper, landed on the beach. It just needed a little fire in its belly to fly again, so we set to work, rigging up a frame that could hold flame without burning the tissue.
The moon rose, splendid in a frame of clouds.