About a decade ago I was learning how to practice zazen at Buddha Eye Temple. I recall a summer morning where you could hear a small child sing while meditating. After meditation was over I looked out the windows to see Satsuki McMullen sitting under a fig tree, she was dancing, singing and playing. Something about the way she moved and sang under that tree caught my attention, my memory of it seems brighter, and more luminous then it should.
Day and night pass quickly by, I found myself attending the funeral for that same child this past week. I watched a grieving community try to reconcile the mystery of birth and death. I felt my own heart and mind try to make sense of yet another loss.
In the late afternoon I returned back to the fig tree I once saw Satsuki play under. I carefully watched the fig leaves dance in the slow summer breeze. As the sun set below the horizon I took a photograph.