Weathered hands reach up to finish the woven palm leaves.
From the ground, a climber is a small shape near the top of a coconut palm.Halfway up the trunk, a climber grins down, coconuts dangling beside him.
He grips the trunk and looks down past his feet.
From above, a row of palms splits the rice paddies down the middle.Rice fields stretch toward the forest, two volcanoes rising on the horizon.
Palms line a narrow path between paddies in every shade of green.
The terraces fall away under a heavy gray sky.Coconuts and an umbrella rest against a stained wall.
Three generations share a meal on the tiled porch.
Einstein sticks out his tongue from a poster over the doorway.Men sit and carve on the mat beneath a sign that reads Black Scorpion.
Wood shavings pile up as a carver works a blade into a small figure.
A man lifts a painted mask with a wild spray of hair to his face.A man in a bucket hat heads into the thicket toward a cattle shed.
A young cow leans out of its bamboo pen for the fresh grass.
An armful of cut grass goes in for the cattle.Rice heads bend under their own weight beneath a line of palms.
He bends into the tall rice, knife in hand.
He carries a sack toward the shed through the banana leaves.From the edge of the grove, the cattle shed hides in the green.
A mother crouches to talk with her daughter on a wet lane between the fields.
The volcano stands dark against a burning sky as the day ends over the rice fields.A woman walks out toward the fields at dusk, an offering balanced on her head.
A woman places an offering on a bamboo shrine at the edge of the paddy.
The shrine stands alone in the rice at first light, the volcano behind.Eyes closed, she carries an offering on her head down the narrow path between the paddies.
Palms rise over the terraces as a lone figure tends a shrine among them.
Morning haze drifts across the terraces, the volcano's cone above it all.A priest in white rings his bell over the offerings.
He holds a small woven offering up to the light, bell still in hand.
A young man stands in the lane with his hands pressed together.A man in a sarong and headcloth stands at the edge of the rice field.
Dressed in white, he sits cross-legged in the doorway of the shrine.
A man in white smiles gently in front of the carved shrine.Worshippers bathe beneath the springs in the green light of a forest pool.
A man throws his arms wide as the river rushes over him.
Face turned to the sky, he lets the current hold him.White water breaks over his chest as he floats with his eyes closed.
The river pours around him, arms outstretched on the surface.
A woman cradles a man's head as he floats in the shallows.Families wade in the river below the temple, a man stretched out in the current.
Dozens of bathers fill the river beneath the temple and its thatched pavilion.
Harvesters work the last of the rice beside a new building still wrapped in scaffolding.A sack of cut rice goes up onto a harvester's shoulder.
An old man carries a heavy sack on his head, his face creased by the sun.
In a wide hat and orange shirt, a harvester stuffs rice stalks into a sack.Chaff flies from the threshing machine as the harvesters feed it.
Harvesters in conical hats gather around the thresher, the new building behind them.
Under a blue tarp, a man works at a long wooden trough stacked with fresh-cut blocks.Two workers shape material along the trough as the storm clouds build.
Beneath the tarps, two workers move along the wooden trough together.
A scarecrow in a helmet guards the harvested field beside the new houses.A Land For Sale sign stands at the edge of a rice field, the new houses already crowding in.
Orange roofs press right up to the last rectangles of green.
A narrow strip of rice field runs between a tall white wall and the villas.A lone harvester bends in the field as birds scatter overhead.
Under a woven hat, a harvester reaches down for another bundle of rice.
Rice terraces climb the valley toward a village tucked into the trees.A waterfall pours down a black rock face into a jungle river.
