Up in dry and dusty North Hills, behind the worn and forgotten motels along Sepulveda, a green oasis exists: a place of fountains, greenery, flowers, and garden gods.
The Buddhist Meditation Center graciously welcomed and allowed me to take photographs on their beautiful grounds.
Just after dinner, the monks walked into a room and gathered for prayer. Shoeless, bedecked in long robes, heads shaven; both individually and collectively they had an infectious serenity.
