wpc: heritage

As we walk the Spring Creek trail, the changes of the season often fade with the need to be vigilant for other dog walkers (Enya, our Irish Terrier, will aggressively verbalize her territorial rights),  as well as for the cyclists’ refrain, “on your left.”

Over the past year my attention has also been drawn to the disappearing yoga class advertisements that dotted a small section of the trail with emerging international hostel signs, payer flags, and tepees.


The Tibetan word for a horizontal prayer flag is Lung ta, which translates literally as “wind horse.” The prayers of a flag become a permanent part of the universe as the images fade from wind and sun. Tibetans renew their hopes for the world by continually mounting new flags alongside the old. For 2017 the following dates are inauspicious to hang flags: February (2017): 21 -March: 31 -April: 12, 24, 30 -May: 11, 24, 26, 28 -June: 9 -July: 3, 16, 30 -August: 11, 25 -September: 7, 18, 21 -October: 3, 14, 30 -November: 10, 25 -December: 7, 22 -January (2018): 2, 14, 17, 29 -February (2018): 10


black and white sunday: imperfect

A back-yard chrysanthemum

looked at the setting sun

and faded. ~ Kaen (Y Hoffmann, Japanese Death Poems)

When I revisit this (imperfect) image of a section of an Ireland cemetery,  I  find myself being emotionally touched by how the statue seems to speak of life’s aloneness and a yearning for that which will lead us away from suffering.


Image submitted in response to Lost in Translation’s photo challenge: imperfect