[Heritage BottoBo] The Wind Blew Across the Temple Site

Author: Chan-hee Park

Geodonsa Temple Site, located in Wonju, Gangwon Province, is one of the region’s “Big Three” temple ruins, along with Heungbeopsa Temple Site and Beopcheonsa Temple Site. All three are captivating in their own way, but Geodonsa has always been my favorite. Above all, I love standing on the highest hill overlooking the site and taking in the entire landscape below. (Photo above: Sculptures exhibited at Geodonsa Temple Site)

Last winter, I found yet another reason to love Geodonsa. Before visiting with some friends, I was searching online for information about the site when I came across a photograph of the Milky Way stretching across its night sky. The Milky Way above a temple ruin! As it turned out, Geodonsa is already well known among astrophotography enthusiasts. Its expansive grounds, low surrounding hills, clear air, and—perhaps most importantly—the fact that visitors can drive right up to the entrance make it an ideal location for stargazing and photography.

A friend and I had long promised each other that one day we would come here to see the Milky Way rising above the ruins, and we were simply waiting for the right moment.

“Come visit sometime—we’re holding an exhibition at Geodonsa-temple.”

The message came from Artist Jeong, a ceramic sculptor. I had always admired the artist’s figurative works. Their gentle smiles seemed to soften even the most tense and weary heart. The thought of seeing artwork I loved displayed at a temple site I loved was irresistible.

Photo: A sculpture facing the wind

A few days later, I met an acquaintance at Wonju Station, and after a forty-minute drive we arrived at Geodonsa. The sky was a brilliant blue, island-like clouds drifted slowly overhead, and a strong wind swept across the ruins. As we climbed the steps leading into the site, sculptures installed throughout the grounds gradually came into view.

Photo: The view from in front of Wongong Guksa’s Stupa

The artist, waiting beneath a thousand-year-old zelkova tree, spotted our group and came over with a warm smile. After exchanging greetings, the artist began introducing the works. We stopped in front of a figure depicted striding forward into the wind with its whole body.

“Motherhood faces the wind with dignity. It embraces everything without judgment.”

Perhaps because of that intention, the rounded face of the sculpture—reminiscent of the smiling roof-end tiles from Silla—filled me with a sense of comfort. Standing before it, I felt no urge to move on. I simply wanted to remain there.

The wind never ceased across the temple grounds. Wind does not stay in one place; it moves constantly, leaving traces on everything it touches and bringing change wherever it goes. It shakes trees when it brushes past them, and when it encounters rock, it slowly sculpts it. Within those sculpted stones lie the past through which the wind has passed, the present it is touching now, and the future yet to come. In that sense, rock contains the eternal flow and cycle of time itself. Before me stood a human figure that seemed as though it had been carved directly from stone by the wind.

“A force that reconnects what has been severed, softens harsh time, and makes existence gentler. To me, the ultimate purpose of art is consolation. Yet it is not merely emotional comfort. It is a profound peace that comes from recognizing the cycle in which all things return to the earth and begin again.”

(From the exhibition pamphlet)

Earth is the foundation that nurtures all life. Life itself moves in cycles upon that earth. And everything—life and death alike—is interconnected. As I stood there, I felt linked to the temple site, the sculptures, the wind, the clouds, the grass, the air, and even to the people who had once walked these grounds centuries ago. The ruins suddenly felt warm and alive.

Photo: A Pietà sculpture before the Three-story Stone Pagoda

Another sculpture stood before the three-story stone pagoda. From a distance it looked like a weathered rock shaped by centuries of wind, but as I approached, its form gradually revealed itself. Stripped of unnecessary detail and marked by restraint, the sculpture depicted the Pietà—Mary holding the body of her son Jesus after his death.

Because it was not overly literal, the sculpture invited countless interpretations. Imagining a mother witnessing the death of her child, accepting that loss while grieving and offering comfort, I found myself deeply moved.

At some point, the Pietà standing in the temple ruins transformed in my imagination. It became a Bodhisattva, and then a Buddha. These figures all seemed to embody beings who accept and embrace every pain, despair, and profound sorrow. Perhaps the Buddha who once stood here never truly disappeared. Perhaps he simply stepped into the world, like Mary in the Pietà, to comfort people in their suffering—and has not yet returned.

Passing the pagoda, I climbed toward the Geumdang Hall, where the main Buddha image had once been enshrined. Today, only the foundation stones that supported the columns and the large stone pedestal that once held the Buddha remain. The pedestal had been carefully crafted from massive blocks of stone, yet it was now shattered beyond recognition. Damage of that scale could only have been caused by fire. It seemed likely that sometime during the mid-Joseon period, flames had swept through the temple.

As I walked around the pedestal, I savored a fragment of the history embedded within the stone. The pedestal and the temple site no longer felt like ruins. Rather, they seemed to exist naturally within the flow of time, aging with quiet grace.

Photo: “A sculpture facing the wind”

After viewing the stele commemorating the achievements of Wongong Guksa, a renowned monk of the early Goryeo period, I climbed the hill where his stupa once stood. Wongong Guksa had deep ties to Geodonsa. The stupa now standing on the hill is a replica; the original was removed during the Japanese colonial period and is currently displayed in the courtyard of the National Museum of Korea.

From the hill, the entire temple site spread out below me. This was my favorite place in Geodonsa. Whenever I stood here looking down at the ruins, I felt an overwhelming sense of fullness, as though nothing more could possibly be added.

This time was no different. Nothing needed to be changed. Everything was perfect just as it was. The simple fact that I was standing there felt strangely unreal, as though the axis of time had bent and a different current of time flowed through this place. For a thousand years, Wongong Guksa had looked down upon the temple from this very spot.

Descending from the hill, I wandered alone across the grassy grounds while the rest of my group remained behind. Walking through a place where grand buildings had once stood and where countless people had once come and gone, I felt as though I were tracing the memories and forgotten time of the temple.

Walking is how I communicate with temple ruins. When I simply follow the wind and let my feet lead the way, I sometimes feel as though a doorway to the past opens before me. Would such a moment come again today?

Photo: Sculptures exhibited at Geodonsa Temple Site

Then I thought I heard whispering.

It seemed as though the artist’s sculptures, scattered throughout the site, had begun to walk. They looked like people who had been sleeping deep within the ruins for centuries. Silla people, Goryeo people, Joseon people—they all stretched their limbs and wandered through the wind-swept temple grounds. I wandered among them.

Bathed in sunlight, the sculptures sparkled even more brightly, their faces filled with smiles. The sculptures had stirred a wind across Geodonsa, breaking the silence of the ruins and awakening those who had long slept there.

When I returned from that brief journey into another world, I saw my companions waiting beneath the zelkova tree. I wanted to stay until sunset, watch the Milky Way rise, and meet those strolling sculptures beneath the stars. But it was time to leave.

“Of all the temple sites I’ve visited, Geodonsa-temple was the most beautiful today.”

Even as I spoke those words to my companions, the wind continued to blow, and the trees swayed in waves. The wind awakened by the sculptures had reached me as well, making every moment of my walk through the ruins a joy.

What kind of wind will greet me the next time I return to Geodonsa-temple?