Exploring Korea: Whispers of the Mountain – A Soulful Journey to Daeheung Temple
By Neha Bisht
There are places that impress you – and then there are places that imprint you. Daeheung Temple, nestled deep within the quiet folds of South Jeolla’s Duryun Mountain, became more than just a stop on a travel itinerary. It became a soft-spoken reminder of stillness, sacredness, and the quiet beauty of slowing down.
My journey to this hidden sanctuary began with a university-organized tour, something many students signed up for, drawn by its unusual combination of nature, tradition, and spiritual calm. I joined out of curiosity – but also from a quiet desire to step away from the noise of everyday life, the rush of deadlines, and the constant demands we all carry without noticing.
The temple is not immediately visible from the entrance. To get there, we first walked through a forest along a long, shaded path. The area was surrounded by tall, old trees, and the cool air carried the natural scent of pine needles, fallen leaves, and mountain moss. The quiet environment made everyone naturally slow down and take in the surroundings. It felt like a calm and gradual transition into a more peaceful space.
After walking through the forest, we reached a small tea house at the edge of the woods where the monks welcomed us with kind smiles. After a short rest, they handed us traditional clothing and small baskets, inviting us to join in the age- old ritual of tea leaf picking. Together with my friends, I followed the monks into a nearby tea garden. The morning light was soft, filtering through the leaves as we moved among rows of tea bushes, learning to pick the delicate top leaves with care. It wasn’t about skill; it was about being present. In that moment, surrounded by mountain air and quiet purpose, I began to feel myself arriving – not just at a destination but in the moment itself.
After finishing the tea leaf picking, we returned to the tea house to continue the tea-making process. The monks guided us through the next steps, explaining that roasting and drying the tea usually takes three to five days. Since we had limited time, we took part only in the initial roasting. For the mixing step, we used pre- roasted tea leaves that had been prepared earlier by the monks. The process was done entirely by hand, a slow, circular motion that felt like a quiet ritual rather than a task. It was a calm and focused activity, and during this process, I found myself becoming more relaxed and engaged with the experience.
From the tea house, we continued our visit by heading toward the main temple area. The path led us through a quiet forest, creating a sense of separation from the outside world. It created a calm environment that prepared us for what we were about to experience. Eventually, the temple came into view. There was no large gate or elaborate entrance. Instead, we saw a group of wooden buildings set naturally against the mountain slope. The structures were simple and traditional, with curved tile roofs and aged wooden walls. Rather than being impressive because of their size, they stood out because of how well they blended with the surroundings. It felt like the temple belonged there, as much a part of the landscape as the trees around it.
Inside the temple grounds, a deep stillness embraced everything. It wasn’t a silence of absence, but a silence full of presence. I slipped off my shoes and entered Daeungjeon, the main hall of the temple. A golden statue of Buddha sat at its center, surrounded by intricate lotus carvings. I sat quietly for a few minutes, observing the soft candlelight and the smell of incense. The silence made it easier to focus – not on anything specific but simply on being in the moment. The monks shared stories about the temple’s history and its spiritual significance. We captured the serene beauty of the scene, framed by the surrounding mountains, and spent a while longer soaking in the tranquility. As we left, the temple staff handed us eco-friendly bags – a thoughtful gesture that reflected their respect for nature and mindfulness.
Later, we returned to the tea house, where a tea- sharing session had been prepared. The monks served mountain-grown tea along with a few traditional Korean snacks. We all sat together, drinking tea and enjoying the relaxed atmosphere. The warmth of the cup in my hands, the deep herbal notes of the tea, the rustle of leaves outside the open doors – it all felt like a shared silence, a collective exhale.
Daeheung Temple’s history stretches back to the Baekje Kingdom of the 4th century. Over the centuries, it has witnessed countless changes – from dynasties to invasions – yet its core purpose has remained the same. It continues to be a peaceful retreat for visitors seeking reflection, rest, or simply a break from the pace of daily life.
As we walked back through the forest at sunset, with the sky fading into shades of gold and pink, I realized I felt different from when I had arrived. I had come with a busy mind and quiet stress that I hadn’t even recognized. But I left feeling more calm, more present, and more aware. The monk’s words echoed in my mind: “Mountains do not speak, but they are never silent.”
Daeheung Temple didn’t give me answers. Instead, it offered me space – space to pause, to think, and to step away from the rush of everyday life. What began as a cultural visit turned into something more meaningful. It became a moment of clarity and calm in my own personal journey.
Photograph by Neha Bisht.
The Author
A native of India, Neha Bisht is pursuing her PhD research at Chonnam National University’s School of Materials Science and Engineering. She loves to meet new people and make new friends. Neha endeavors to contribute to the wellbeing of society in whatever way she can.








