Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • I stopped this man in a carpet bazaar in Kashgar. I smiled and gestured at my camera. He nodded and I snapped the photo.

    Weeks later, drinking coffee, flipping through Lightroom, I saw his image again for the first time. I stopped, captivated by his expression and his eyes and the wrinkles on his face.

    I began to ponder what my eyes will say when I'm his age.

    In his I see a calm acceptance, and just a bit of pride.

    One could do worse, I suppose.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.