TagPhoto Essay

I had only a few seconds to get the shot. The day was November 3, 1995. … These sublime, noble peaks were just as I had imagined them. As my heart filled with awe and appreciation, I raised my camera and snapped the shutter six, maybe seven, times. These mountains seem alive—breathing. Behind these mountains

Looking up I see sunlight glimmering through the leaves. The trees of Oirase stand like venerable, wise persons. Gazing upward from the streambed where I stand, I see deep-green leaves of August, filled with life, extending from treetops and branches toward small patches of blue sky. Nothing is more deserving of praise than a tree

In June 1989, I flew from England to Sweden. The capital, Stockholm, is often called the “Venice of the North.” It is also known as the “City That Floats on the Water” and has a harbor that extends into its center. This city is built upon 14 islands linked by bridges and is crisscrossed by

There is a pond that each spring turns into a flowered mirror. Cherry blossoms scatter petal by petal, wafting gently onto the water’s surface like delicately scented silk scarves. To the koi carp in the pond, the fluttering petals must look like clouds billowing across the sky. Such musings made me think the pink petals

The day was June 17, 1992, the time, past 3 o’clock in the afternoon. We were 8 miles from Cairo, a city of 10 million. Driving through the city along the west bank of the Nile, one suddenly finds oneself in the desert. Ahead, atop a plateau, stand the three pyramids of Giza. It was

“Enjoy!” This is the Aloha spirit. My eyes are drawn and riveted to a particular spot on the beach. There, from the sand, emerges the figure of a white horse. Who sculpted it? It seems as if it would gallop gracefully away at any moment. I bow with respect and appreciation to the nameless beach

It was already late in the afternoon, but at that time of the year the European sky remains light until quite late. But suddenly the sky darkened with clouds, and heavy rain began to fall. It tapped on the rooftops with a thousand fingers, like a pianist playing a lively sonata. It fell like curtains

November 3, 1995. I had just received an honorary doctorate of letters from Nepal’s Tribhuvan University. After the ceremony, we headed away from the city to a hilltop from which I could get a good picture of the Himalayas. … Just as our car pulled up, a young girl, her back laden with rice straw,

A single road, stretching limitlessly. If we follow that single road, that single path, it will link us to the land. And beyond the broad expanse of the land, it will link us to the world as well. If we never stop walking ahead step by step along the correct path in life, then the