About a year ago Leah and I invited some of our friends from the Seattle Tibetan community out to our place for a picnic. Our adult guests that day came bearing gifts of Himalayan-grown tea, traditional Tibetan sweets, and prayer flags. The Tibetan children brought exuberant energy and curiosity for exploring the woods around our house, and playing in the pastures with Pumpkin the goat and Smokey the sheep. The kids’ centuries-old culture might be that of herders and traders, but these Tibetan children live in Seattle and live city kid lives.
“Eeewww, POOP!” they screeched when they saw the raisin-like droppings that Pumpkin leaves in the pasture.
When I consider the volunteer photography I’ve done at now-countless Tibetan events over the last three years, I know I’ve gotten much more than I’ve given. Last week one of my Tibetan friends whose young wife has just passed away called to invite me to a prayer service in her honor. My photographic work has led me to an ever-widening circle of human beings, and my life is richer because of them.
As I guess happens for all of us when we experience the death of a loved one or friend, the prayer service last week got me thinking about how quickly time passes and things change. Just a month ago I made the photograph at the top of this post, and this morning I shot the image below. Same tree, same string of prayer flags, but see how much has changed.
One of the lamas at the prayer service reminded us that each day of life is a gift. I hope you don’t mind that I’m using today’s post to pass his teaching along.
