Great Regulars: As I stoop into the orange-painted labyrinth

of the temple complex, I am immediately concentrated, focused by the twin spirits of ingenuity and naturalness. There is no metal anywhere, not even nails, and the slatted wooden floors have been worn smooth by the tread of generations.

In the elaborate and dark cave-altars, hand-written messages shimmer in the sea breeze.

from Andrew Motion: The Australian: Poetry of place

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