Green, green and gold

A typhoon was aimed at North Vietnam with heavy rain arriving in the afternoon. THis meant our tour group was urged to use the cable car to reach the Pagoda - reluctantly I agreed to pass on climbing up! What it meant for the villagers was different.
Rice harvesting was underway in a frenzy of activity. The small bus wove through villlages wheere every flat surface inclduing the road had rice spread to dry. Small threshing amchines sprayed mounds of green rice straw in one direction while women colllected grain in shallow woven trays. They cheerfully shifgted the machine so vehciles coudl edge past.
Harvesting was by hand so the small fields were dotted with figures in conical hats. Co;lours changed from green to gold as rthe dayw armed. By lated afternoon, as the rian began, most grain was stored in bags adn tall mounds of straw showed where the day's waork ended.
On the river, the dominant shades were all green. The karst hills rose very sharply from river flats and the calm green water merged indistinctly with the slope. Sometimes it was only possible to detect water by the gliding motion of a distant person.
Women rowed us upriver in flat boats with lots of chat. A few men fished for crabs or with scoops in the silt, flicking tiny paddles to slide over the surface.
The hillside with LOTS fo steps was many shades of green. Once at the top, we cautiously climbed down to a large cave to admire this famed place of worship. Then a quieter glide downriver with the first spatters of rain.