Crude Lotus

Two hours from Beijing, Baiyangdian in summer metamorphoses from a drab swamp into a colorful checkerboard of lotus patches and fish nurseries

The sun may have taken the weather forecasters by surprise, but not the lotus flowers. Attuned to the barest climatic fluctuation, they are already on the threshold of their summer bloom.

A gathering tide of flowering lotuses is now sweeping across China, transforming seemingly destitute marshlands into scenic tableaux of white, pink and yellow. Fortunately, Beijing residents do not need to journey far to treat themselves to Nature's floral coronation. For only 150 kilometres south west of the capital, bending under a gentle breeze, sway thousands of blossoming water lilies and lotuses.

Baiyangdian is a wetland area on the central plain of Hebei province. In the summer, as its name implies, it metamorphoses from a drab swamp into a "white ocean of lakes". This 360 square kilometre marsh, criss-crossed by thousands of rivers and ditches, comes alive in a colorful checkerboard of water-based nurseries. Only the local fishermen know their way through the maze of tall reeds to the oases of lotuses and water lilies concealed within.

Gliding in a wooden punt through this sea of flowers, the sun's breath on your cheek, a hand trailing languidly in the cool, mirror-like water, your thoughts may wander from workaday to spiritual concerns. Such a reaction would be in keeping with the ancient symbolism of the lotus; it was Buddha, in similarly idyllic circumstances, who compared its growth with a person's path to Enlightenment--from lowly, sightless incipience to elevated, all-seeing maturity.

This is not to suggest that Baiyangdian affords nothing more than exquisite panoramas. Apart from the cultivation of shrimp, crabs, ducks and fish, enclosed within picturesque bamboo and net boundaries, you might want to observe the cormorant fishing here. Although the best time to do this is at dawn, when the fishermen hunt in packs, late in the afternoon you can still come upon isolated groups. On spotting a shoal of fish, the boatmen beat the water with their oars. This throws the shoal into agitated confusion and prompts the cormorant birds to give chase. Thanks to their heavy bones and lungs' small gas cells, these birds are able to dive swiftly underwater after the scattering fish. Having trapped their prey inside capacious gullets, they return them to their owners in exchange for well-deserved rewards.

While the menfolk earn their living on the water, the village women are busily engaged in a land-based cottage industry. In the village of Xilidi, women of all ages sit in the shade of a weeping willow weaving reed mats. Once the long reeds have dried in the sun, girls split them length-wise with a sharp blade. The resulting strands are passed to their mothers and elder sisters, some of whom can weave as many as two large mats a day. From the flower-lined lake shore, these mats make their way to the granaries of the north east, whence we came.