Messenger of God: The Spirit of the Snow Lotus
The Tibetan Plateau forms a vibrant canvas where plant life thrives, and it is here that Litang sits at 4,250 meters above sea level. Photographed by naturalist Alessandro Boesi and titled "Messenger of God," this landscape showcases how the snow-capped mountains' distinctive natural conditions naturally foster an ideal setting for rare flora. The blossoms in this region draw attention through their exceptional growth patterns, vivid hues, unusual forms, and varied applications, standing out like prophetic signs as they flourish high among the peaks.
Amid the quiet stillness, they possess a distinctive and remarkable appeal, turning this location into a haven for those who cherish nature. Under severe and unforgiving conditions, flora at high elevations manage to flourish, standing as emblems of endurance and bravery—much like the convictions held deep within the hearts of Tibetans. Their value extends beyond ornamental, decorative, and healing uses; Tibetan blossoms are also intimately tied to the resilience of the Tibetan people. Alpine Plants Photography: Alessandro Boesi
The Qinghai-Tibet Plateau's distinctive ecosystem depends on the abundance of plant species, which are vital to its biodiversity. These rare and beautiful plants must be identified, differentiated, and safeguarded to ensure the region's ecological integrity. As a visual representation of nature's splendor, flowers have become deeply woven into Tibetan cultural expressions—extending from everyday secular practices to sacred temple ceremonies. Blue flowered mugwort, Photography by Alessandro Boesi. Across diverse settings, flowers serve a wide range of purposes and hold enduring symbolic meaning.
In the sacred culture of Tibet, the unique natural properties of plants and the spiritual meanings they contain are vividly expressed and interpreted. Much like the natural mineral pigments used in Tibetan thangka paintings, flowers likewise add a dazzling color to human civilization. After visiting Tibet several times, I was left with a deep impression. In that land, whether in a house or a temple, there always seem to be pots of blooming, colorful flowers by the windows.
At noon in early spring, I once stopped to rest in a quiet corner outside the monks' quarters at Songzanlin Monastery in Shangri-La. No tourists were around, and not a single monk was in sight. Then, from somewhere down a winding alley, a burst of cheerful laughter and playful shouting drifted toward me. Before I could fully take it in, two young monks, each about ten years old, dashed past me, chasing one another in play. This scene became the subject of Walter Wong's photograph, Window Flowers.
I took no photographs, as my memories required no physical proof. Had a photographer stood with me at that moment, I think the scene before us would have been a precious subject, one that would have excited them and urged them to capture it. Each of them carried a pot of fresh flowers, which swung to and fro beautifully as they ran.
One year, a friend suggested I call on someone I knew at Labrang Monastery in Xiahe. Concerned about proper etiquette, I couldn't settle on a gift—anything too lavish or too offhand felt unsuitable. In the photo by Alessandro Boesi, a Tibetan child carries a bouquet of flowers. That image of two young monks in deep crimson robes, vivid as flames amid the blossoms, seemed straight out of a film—pure, beautiful, and indelibly etched in my mind, an eternal instant.
On the street, I suddenly came across a flower vendor and chose two pots—one already in full bloom and the other still bare. I thought it would be an enjoyable addition to my monk friend's monastery: he could set the pots on the windowsill, savoring the open blossoms while waiting for the second to flower. When we met, he was delighted. Even after I returned to Beijing, he would occasionally send me photos of the blooming flower.
Flowers, though unable to speak, hold a quiet comprehension. Beauty and friendship are expressed through them, transcending any language or distance. The classic song 'Blue Lotus' by Xu Wei features the lyric: "In the free world of the heart, so clear and lofty, blooming perpetually without withering, the Blue Lotus." His music is especially fitting for journeys, serving those who travel physically and spiritually. A young monk in Lhasa, Tibet, appears in a photograph by Steve McCurry.
The melody carries an artistic conception that is both elevated and expansive, as though one's inner world gradually unfolds, petal by petal, like a lotus in bloom. Through a series of purifying processes, the mind is guided toward clarity and optimism, giving rise to a renewed perspective on life—an experience akin to being reborn.
A photograph of a blue-flowered Artemisia annua is credited to Yang Xiao. In the past, I held the view that the blue lotus in the lyrics was a separate flower species from the white lotus encountered in our daily lives, and that its sole appearance in an unusual blue color occurred within the distinctive natural conditions of the snowy plateau.
In Buddhist belief, the lotus is an important symbol that represents beauty, wholeness, spiritual purity, transcendence, and awakening. I did not realize, however, until I read the botanical survey notes of British naturalist Joseph Dalton Hooker on the Yunnan-Guizhou Plateau in southwest China, that the blue lotus is actually a unique plant called the blue-flowered artemisia, which grows in high-altitude regions, rather than a blue-colored lotus flower.
Lotus Flower Photography: Yumi The lotus, with its pure look, embodies a distinctive metaphor: every life has the capacity to attain enlightenment. It stands for a more elevated spiritual condition and also signifies the Buddha's commitment to aiding all sentient beings in reaching their full potential. In line with Buddhist doctrine, through devoted practice, every sentient being can overcome darkness and suffering, thereby exposing their genuine, flawless nature. Just as a lotus blossoms, people can cultivate the Buddha's qualities.
Lotus patterns appear extensively in Tibetan cultural art—including fine paintings, textiles, woodwork, lacquerware, and gold and silverwork—because the flower embodies both an elegant, pure appearance and deep symbolic meaning.
Photographed by Kenneth Parker, a blue lotus appears in a wall painting from a 15th-century temple, where the cracks were caused by earthquake damage. The lotus's prevalence in Buddhist culture and art gives practitioners a source of inspiration for their practice, along with a motivating force that provides courage and lifts their spirits—just as a blooming lotus rises from samsara's impurities, so too will the awakened mind arise.
Two grand festival ceremonies in Tibet are linked to two special “flowers,” yet these are not real plants—they represent an artistic form and a vessel for the spirit. Thangka, an exquisite scroll painting that originated in the 7th century, employs satin, leather, and cotton as its mediums to illustrate important Buddhist themes. It serves both as an object for worshipping deities and as an attractive ornament in the everyday lives of Tibetan people. The Cleveland Museum of Art holds a 13th-century Tibetan Green Tara Thangka, which embodies this tradition. Ultimately, the Thangka functions as a vehicle of faith.
The most vivid and intense encounter with this beauty perhaps takes place at the grand Sun Buddha Festival. Each year, monks bring the huge, carefully rolled Thangka from the temple and spread it open in the middle of the crowd. Thangka, a brilliant and unique Tibetan art that merges faith and aesthetics, is celebrated as the most beautiful 'flower' blooming on the snowy plateau, with outstanding aesthetic charm and narrative potential.
Under the vast sky, the meticulously painted Thangka glows with countless lights as the first rays of dawn touch the earth, evoking a moment of divine beauty. Through such a grand display, Tibetan people purify their body and mind, seek blessings, and express their reverence for their faith. Butter flowers offer another sincere expression of the heart, and in Tibet, numerous legends recount their origins. (Photography: Emmy Schoorl, Gandan Monastery Buddha Exhibition)
In Tibetan, the term for butter flowers is “flower offering.” The most memorable instance of this is tied to a dream of the great master Tsongkhapa. It is said that one night, during a prayer ceremony in Lhasa, Tsongkhapa dreamed of a colorful auspicious cloud, vibrant flowers, and countless twinkling lights. The master was overjoyed by this extraordinary and magnificent spectacle, interpreting it as a favorable sign. He therefore directed the monastery artists to reproduce the dream scene in butter and offer it to the Buddha.
Butter Sculpture Flowers - Image: tibettravel.org The fifteenth day of the first lunar month brings an annual grand butter sculpture art exhibition to Ta'er Temple. Butter, an important food in the daily lives of plateau dwellers, provides the material for these sculptures. Through complex and delicate handcrafted procedures carried out by skilled monks, this butter is magically shaped into exquisite flower forms. The sculptures showcase a wide array of themes, including Buddhist stories, Tibetan folklore, and natural scenery.
Wolfbane flower, another type of flower closely tied to the Tibetan spirit, has incredibly important uses despite its fierce-sounding name. Butter sculptures, which combine delicate, intricate, magnificent, and sacred qualities, have developed into an extraordinary art form that embodies the wisdom of the Tibetan people and represents beauty and aspirations. Two photos of a monk making butter sculptures are credited to Long ri business and Pinterest.
Photography of Wolf's Bane flower: floramongolia. In his article "Dege on Woodcuts," cultural scholar Zhu Yong carefully examines the scripture printing process at Dege Printing House, as part of his larger work "Tibet: Above the Distant." He describes it in these terms: "Over seventy percent of Tibetan cultural scriptures are preserved at Dege Printing House. This institution carries the dual role of safeguarding ancient texts while also printing and spreading them. For the Tibetan people, it stands as a spiritual cornerstone.
The Dege grasslands host a medicinal plant named 'Ajok Rok,' from which scripture pages are crafted. Its scientific name, carrying a poetic quality, is known as 'mystical wolf poison.' Through washing, cutting, steaming, beating, pulping, papermaking, and drying, the herb becomes a pale yellow 'Tibetan paper.' In sunlight, the veins of the plant remain faintly visible.
As they turn the pages of the scriptures and softly murmur the cryptic symbols written there, the chanting monks display a refined, time-honored presence that resembles figures from ancient murals. In addition, the healing properties of 'mystical wolf poison' shield the old manuscripts from pests and rodents, and at the same time bestow upon the monks sharp eyesight and lucid minds, keeping them free from ailments of the eyes.
Born and nurtured between heaven and earth, a plant is collected, arranged, ground, and fermented. When its life is complete, it is reborn in another form. In that new form, a faint fragrance carries all of this—a scent originating deep within the earth. Through many transformations it becomes pages, uniting with the beautiful words of the scriptures and lingering in people's hearts. Reading Scripture - Image: Joo - Hee
Through the journey from plant to sacred text, we gain a deep understanding of the spiritual nature of vegetation. What emerges is a sheet of ordinary white paper filled with words and sentences, through which wisdom takes firm root in the hearts of believers as they recite. This process resembles a small, self-contained cycle at work. Although plants remain silent and tranquil, they are in constant dialogue with humankind. In the same way that people earn merit through virtuous acts, plants gather their own merit in this spiritual manner, offering their very lives to sustain humanity.
Flower of Healing: Numerous plants and flowers in Tibet actually possess unique medicinal values, even though the highly valuable saffron flower and the Tibetan peony flower—the symbol of happiness, beauty, good luck, and auspiciousness—are two of the most recognizable and well-known flowers in Tibet. (Buddhist Canon at Labrang Monastery, Photography by Dominic Lüdin)
An ancient Tibetan medical manuscript page, photographed by Alessandro Boesi. Tibetan medicine was shaped by Ayurveda, the classical medical system of ancient India, once Buddhism spread from India into China. Within Ayurveda, treatments derived from plants hold considerable significance. Combining elements of Ayurveda and traditional Chinese medicine, Tibetan traditional medicine stresses harmony between the mind and body, illustrating the deep bond between humanity and the natural world.
Pharmacist Buddha Image:Thangka Mandala Art Sunapati Ninety-five percent of Tibetan medicine consists of herbal remedies. Rather than being grounded in biological science, this medical tradition is based on Buddhist philosophy, which prioritizes awareness of the human spirit. It is embedded in an ancient belief system according to which natural energies control human health. The natural medicines utilized include wild plants—such as flowers, roots, or fruits—as well as minerals.
During July 2000, at Litang in Sichuan, a Tibetan doctor gathers and samples herbs. According to Tibetan medicine, the principal source of bodily disease is an imbalance in the spirit. Illness thrives in a body burdened by afflictions, delusions, and anger; yet it often fails to take root where love and wisdom prevail. Tibetan medicine stands apart because of its deep intertwining of religious philosophy, cosmology, and spiritual practice.
In the Himalayas, a documentary directed by Pierre Combroux and photographed by Alessandro Boesi captures a local doctor delivering medical care. To unleash the healing power of medicine, the doctor insisted, a practitioner must approach illness with genuine sincerity and unshakable confidence in a recovery. That statement points to an unspoken partnership between humanity and the natural world. Having evolved over more than 2,500 years, Tibetan medicine has built a treatment system that is virtually complete.
Tibetan medicine holds that all plants possess medicinal value, with each plant targeting a specific disease. Hence, during herb collection, only the quantity required for treatment should be taken, and great care must be taken not to damage the plants. This attitude reflects the equal respect given to all beings on Earth, including both patients and the plants themselves.
Unity of Heaven and Humanity. Over centuries, the harmonious ties among humans, nature, and religious beliefs have allowed Tibetans to build and refine a traditional knowledge system. This system reflects their deep and unique understanding of local weather, soil, wildlife, and plants, as well as the ways to utilize them. In the photo by Alessandro Boesi, a young girl collects herbs in the mountains of Litang.
George Schaller, an American biologist who carried out extensive research on the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau in western China, recorded in his field notes, "The Gift of the Third Pole": "The spiritual beliefs of Buddhism provide an ideal foundation for conservation efforts on the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau. Although natural conservation must be based on science, it is also a moral issue that encompasses aesthetic, ethical, and spiritual values." The photograph "Flowers under the cloth palace" is credited to Alex.
Flowers that bloom vibrantly across the plateau are inseparable from the Tibetan spirit, adding color to children's early years. Religion extends its concern to every living creature—people, animals, and plants alike—viewing them as members of one shared community, which in turn gives each person a duty toward the land. Among the Tibetan residents I have encountered, both laypeople and monks, this ethical bond has been deeply internalized. Photograph by Alessandro Boesi.
Snow-capped peaks encircle majestic mountains and pristine land, where rivers and streams are born—the center of the sky, the heart of the earth, and the heart of the world. --Tibetan poetry, 8th-9th century AD