We were walking a blistering canal road along the Irrawaddy when we came upon a stupa with a tree. The tree made noise. It laughed, giggled, and squealed. This was three schoolgirls climbing inside its leafy, green boughs. They were harvesting star flowers—kah ye pan. “We’re just gathering for ourselves,” said Cherry Pwint Oo, 15. “The flowers have nectar. It’s sweet, like sugar.” They collected a few flowers for us to sample. The dirt road shimmered in the midday heat. But the flowers cooled the tongue, like ice. The daily miracle. Burma sometimes is like this. // More from Milestone 73, in #Myanmar
, at the link in our bio.