Sometimes I’m amazed at what exists so close to home. Last week, worried we were going to miss the sun that was setting over Stockton, we pulled into the Stockton Cambodian Buddhist Temple.
It’s one of those places you don’t really think about visiting if you’re not Buddhist and if you aren’t willing to search for the color around you. But it’s there, vibrant and intricate, in an old, sleepy neighborhood in Southeast Stockton.
We walked up the statues that were quickly becoming dark silhouettes against the orange sun, and the three of us captured the artistic Buddhist storytelling until the moon emerged from the other side of the earth.
Here are (a lot, sorry) photos from that evening. I hope you enjoy them.