May day

A lovely afternoon weaving in and out filled with singing, drums and frothy cherry blossom.

I was in Bhaktapur, Nepal, on May day for workers day- a day filled with red flags, protests and celebrations. I see such tragic images of that town now. of the beautiful temples reduced to dust and think of all the people I met in my short time there. The potter who fired, in amongst the hundreds of bowls, my tiny vase I tentatively threw on his wheel, the children I drew together with whilst watching the potters load the kilns. The kids who played on the stone carved animals, rising 400 year old elephants into battle. The inspiring father who had started a cooperative home for boys with muscular dystrophy and was desperate for physiotherapy volunteers.
I think of them all.