Placed on a shelf in front of the tiny bunk were a gas cooker, heater, packet of cigarettes and lighter next to his ashtray. But it was the spotless windows on his fire-watch hut that said something. I found him meditating in it. Kim explained he’d been transmitting energy to Japan and before I could ask him what kind, he pointed out a small islet in the flat sea below us. It’s shaped like the Korean Peninsula he exclaimed! And so it was. And before I could think he might be overdoing it up here (and I think he anticipated that thought), he hastily pointed through the other speckless pane, and asked me to see the peninsula shaped glade of trees on the side of the peak in front of us? There were a lot of trees on that peaks-side, but sure enough, after a few moments, there moulded by the surrounding scree, it was! I see it, I said. Kim’s sanity assured we drank a hot milky coffee from paper cups. 봉수산, 돌산도, 여수.
