AT THE GOLDEN GATE-09-13-05

Hi!

One day, a couple of months after moving to the Bay Area, I was driving across the Golden Gate Bridge and I noticed a great set of clouds that might make a good background for the bridge. This was the next time, after the last time when, lost in thought, I found myself, for the first time since I moved here, all the way across without noticing that I had traveled the span. It was just a commute, just a road. I was amazed that I could disappear something so large.

I got off 101 and headed for the bridge overlook. I had to get pretty high up the hill to get the bridge and the clouds in the same shot. After lining up and taking the shot, I stopped for a moment to take it all in. I was happy that I had moved. From my perch on the Marin Headlands I had a bird’s eye view of Alcatraz, Angel Island, the city and the spot on the bridge where I first pictured this snapshot of my new home.

While coming down the hill I stopped at the first overlook. On the trail was a heavenly vision. A group of Buddhist monks were approaching The Golden Gate, their saffron robes mimicking the colors of the bridge. We were all bathed in a golden light. The light from the nearest star would disappear from the face of the earth in the next half-hour. I run ahead, excited to see these saints positioning themselves before The Golden Gate in the best possible light.

I took pictures of them taking pictures of one another, with the device that can see value of the light and the dark.

 

Then they, like so many tourist, gathered in a group while each individual with a camera brakes rank to take a picture of the group. I, like I had done a hundred times, asked if they would like me to take a picture with their cameras so they would all be included in their snapshot of being in a particular time and space. They smiled and piled the half dozen cameras at my feet. I framed and shot each one. I, of course, asked to take their picture with my own camera. They all bowed politely. I did.

 

As they gathered their cameras I asked if any of them had an email so I could send them some of the pictures I had taken. Two of the monks said yes to my question. One gave me his card. Returning the favor, I pulled out a couple dozen of my own cards and asked him to pick one. Each of the cards had a different image. (I had already slipped the cards with the nudes back into my pocket.) The whole group gathered around. Some looked, made a pick and handed it back to me until I made it clear that they could keep it. I remember one of the monks choosing a lotus looking a magnolia flower, another accepted the rusted tin can that looks like a rose. The master kept several. When he picked the magpie, that looks like an oriental ink drawing I told him that, in Indian mythology, the bird was the Trickster God that brings life to death. We were all laughing. Each treated the colored pieces of paper as a gift.

 

I asked the master if I could take his picture all by himself. He smiled and sat exactly where I
asked. He needed no other instruction. I laid down on the ground and excitedly shot half a dozen images.

 

 

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a bird fly by. By some instinct I leaded back and shot the bird. It was a vulture. Tibetans call them “Angels” because they take the dead to heaven. I turned back and the master was smiling.

 

 

thanked the master and after we rose from the earth I reached out to shake the his hand. He took my hand, turned it over and asked for the other. He laced my fingers together and arranged them in a fashion that he said was “Feeding the Buddha”. Then he gestured for me to sit down. He took my camera and told me to close my eyes and relax. He said, “Forget everything, forget you are here. Calm yourself. There is no bridge in front of you. I am not here.”

I can’t say how much time passed before I heard the shutter of my camera click. I opened my eyes and saw him looking at me through the lens. All the monks had already gone or disappeared. He handed back my camera. I held out my hand, this time to have him help raise me to my feet.

He did.

 

 

Thank you for stopping for a moment and taking in the world. Thank you for all the great feedback and kind replies and paying me the

great compliment of forwarding these tales out into the world. If, for any reason, you want to be removed

from my mailings just send a reply with “No Thanks” in the subject line. If you are one of those who recieved

this from a friend and want to be added to the list send me an email.

Namaste,

Jerry

Jerry Downs Photography
P.O. Box 1082
Larkspur, CA 94977
415-686-2369
jd@jerrydownsphoto.com
http://www.jerrydownsphoto.com/