Rice field green is the best green
or, take all the photos
Recently I was in a vehicle with a small party driving out of the city headed to a friend’s wedding. His new bride-to-be is from one of the towns on the outskirts of Kathmandu—still in the valley, but a ways out—and the ceremony itself was happening there, near her home, before the ceremonial return to his.
It was a happy event, though the journey there was less so due to road conditions, and a different route was suggested for our return. It was a good call, and the drive back much more pleasant, taking us through farmland made vibrantly verdant by monsoon. Trees and corn and goats, mountains of newly-formed bricks, and above all, rice fields: some full and bushy, others so newly planted that the waterlogged paddies still have space to reflect the trees, the sky. The car sped and jolted and blurred the photos I attempted to take, but I didn’t stop. A friend asked “Is that for your Substack?”
Well yes, but also, no. I take far more pictures than I ever use here; most are just for me and many would probably bore anyone else. I do it first and foremost because Kathmandu and its surroundings—the whole country, in fact—are ever-evolving. Go to an area of town after a gap of even a few months, and expect to find some things gone and new things in their place. That’s the way of things. For years I passed a rice field on the main Lazimpat road, smack in the middle of one of the busiest areas of the city, a bright accent that I couldn’t believe lasted as long as it did. It’s now a building, though I couldn’t tell you exactly which one. It was normal part of my commute, and I never thought to take a picture of it, never thought I would miss it.
Of course the more practical reason has to do with technology: I clung to my analog camera for as long as I could, but when the film development studios began to get fewer and farther between and prices more prohibitive, I finally embraced the digital joy of being able to take just as many photos as I could, of everything large and small. I was late to the party but I’m making up for it.
After all, you never know when something might change and you never know what you might miss.
As we headed home we all agreed: rice field green is the best green, and there is nothing else quite like it.
