The airplane is several miles from its destination in Paro, Bhutan. It's late afternoon, and we're flying so low I can almost count the crowns of individual blue pine trees in the steep forests below. The airport's altitude is 7000 feet, and the plane is still in monsoon clouds. Soon I can see the branches on the trees, mingling tentatively with loose tufts of vapor, whispering the presence of a mystery. Below, I spot women in small rice paddies, close enough for me to be able to name the multiple colors in their kiras, the traditional women's clothing of the region....
