Curving earthen borders, glass-like surfaces, winding paths. The magnificent flooded paddies reflect the cloud dusted sky. Our ragged breathing recovers from the first climb. Dogs leave village homes to strut along the terraces. Striking poses.

The irrigation system is superb. Like mini bamboo aqueducts. Sometimes farmers break a terrace wall to drain one into another until the water supply dwindles. So much toil for rice.

One could spend days exploring the trails. Few do this time of year. No crop, no crowds. The empty, locked and boarded hotels and restaurants create a ghost town. A gift for the solitary hikers.