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This morning I stepped out for a simple walk through the village, camera over my shoulder and nothing planned.

Walk with me as ordinary and extraordinary fold into one beautiful experience.

A few minutes into the walk I heard a concentration of voices up ahead – chanting, laughter, the unmistakable hum of people gathering. As I approached the house I realized one of the families was holding an annual ceremony to honor a loved one who had passed. Monks were assembled and neighbors were still arriving to quietly join in.

I moved carefully through the yard documenting the experience. In this village I am the only foreign face, but over time I have become a familiar, even welcomed presence.

Just after the monks had departed, a truck arrived carrying a brand new farm tractor. Within minutes the gathering quickly shifted and a shrine was being prepared to bless the machine.

Just a few feet away a herdsman tended a cow being bred. Children ran through the yard. Dogs lay in the shade.

Then voices rose sharply, chants echoed, and prayers were offered as the tractor sat on a mat before them.

For the people here in the small border village, this is simply another day lived together as a community.

Moments like this cannot be staged. They simply unfold.

I turned the photographs from that morning into a small Field Dispatch photo book.