Lhasa and the Valley

Ten days at altitude, in the cold and the very hard light.


Juniper heaped into the burners outside the temples until the smoke stands over the walls — an offering that purifies the ground and carries the prayers up with it.

South over the pass to Samye. The river runs out into sandflats wide enough to lose the far bank, and nothing moves on it.

Village work: the cattle in the yard, a parabolic mirror trained on a kettle to keep the water off freezing, polytunnels on the dry ground below the ridge.

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