I’m heading to Seattle tomorrow on the train from Portland and in preparing am reminded of this piece of mine published by The Boiler journal. I’m looking forward to the weekend — spending time in a great city with my sons, visiting grandma, walking the streets with my camera, and learning something new about the world, which is always the case and always gratifying if one is open to it.
In downtown Seattle, I pass through the Chinatown Gate. It’s drizzling, and the sky is the color of cast iron. Across the street, two Buddhist monks are walking slowly in lock-step, wearing identical robes and matching red raincoats. On the other side of the gate, a tiny Chinese grandmother, gripping the hand of a squirming toddler, smiles at me as I start to cross the street to the train station. “God bless you, lady!” she shouts.
“Thank you, bless you,” I tell her, waving at her grandson, passing her wish of good grace silently along in my mind to my grandmother and Lafiti.”
Read the full essay HERE