It was April in Flanders, the Dutch-speaking northern area of Belgium, and two weeks of cold and rain suddenly came to an end. Warm skies dried the soaked fields, drawing daffodils, narcissus and poppies from the ground, birdsong filled the air and the university students and general population of Ghent, Bruges and Leuven flocked to the riverbanks and city parks to bake in the warm air and enjoy Belgium's favorite product — not chocolate, waffles, sprouts nor fries, but beer.

Photographer Allan Troy Smith spent three-years documenting daily life in China. His photographs focus on the world's most populated nation in October, 2007 which was the time of great transition. The photographs are intended to speak for themselves.

The Old Town Clock sits on a grassy bluff, overlooking Halifax’s historic downtown waterfront. Erected in 1800 for the British garrison at the Citadel, it is the most important symbol of Halifax’s rich historical past. As I rested on the lawn below the octagon tower, I could see a hybrid city of elegant 18th-century architecture alongside modern buildings of glass and steel. Groups of tourist, locals and laughing school children strolled past me, while ships glided in the distance on the world's second largest natural harbor. As the September sun shone down, I realized I could sit there forever, or at least for the next four days - which was the short time allotted for my visit to this pristine part of Atlantic Canada - but this was not that type of trip, for my plan was to see as much of Nova Scotia as four days would allow me. Tomorrow I would rent a car and head north, but the rest of today would be devoted to exploring Halifax, the provincial capital of Nova Scotia. As the clock on the tower hit 2 pm, I realized it was time to get moving.

Flying into Prague, the city lies below, red tile roofs fanning over white and yellow buildings sprawling in no apparent pattern around the Vltava River, the result of a natural process of undisturbed development over centuries. Undeterred by city planning, it is what makes this city of spires so surprising, charming and rare.

But in the Philippines, there is the tradition of "All Saints Day" (Todos los Santos or "Undas") which is a way of remembering dead loved ones by prayers, bringing flowers, and lighting candles at their grave. This custom of going to where loved ones are laid to rest, is a hold-over from the Philippine history of being under Spanish rule hundreds of years ago. In Latin American countries, they call this custom, "Dia de los Muertos," or Day of the Dead. But again, as in the celebration of Halloween, the solemnity of the day of the dead has become a fiesta of sorts

I recently fell in love with several small fishing villages along the Moray Coast in Aberdeenshire in Scotland. My trip included 2 nights in Gardenstown. It is a small community of historic cottages nestled along the coast facing the North Sea. They are resting on a narrow strip of land at the base of high green hills and very steep access roads.

Soothing trade winds caress the landscape. Palm trees sway in the breeze. Gentle waves blanket the golden sand. Please forgive this stilted attempt to be descriptive – but I’m feeling a bit of the pre-holiday stress, and I thought it was fitting to emotionally escape to some of my favorite island destination. Come to think of it, they’re not all tropical. But an island is an island.

In a warm July afternoon in 2013 following a 32-hour flight, Thomas Lee, a prominent Southern California dentist, and his wife Lita, first set foot in Kigali, the capital city of Rwanda, a landlocked country in central-east Africa with a populace in great need. The couple were beginning a passionate, heartfelt mission along with the Lees' 17-year-old son Nathan, five medical doctors, a nurse, pharmacist, four support staff, and the Lee's pastor and his wife.

There was not a hint of litter on the street. Mexican children frolicked on the beach. Los Pacenos (La Paz natives) offered gentle smiles as they jogged past me along the Malecón – La Paz’s bay-front boardwalk that stretches along the historic downtown. It was hard to take it all in with the sun setting on the glimmering Sea of Cortez, which Jacques Cousteau christened “the world’s aquarium,” with one of the planet’s most abundant ecosystems.

It was April in Flanders, the Dutch-speaking northern area of Belgium, and two weeks of cold and rain suddenly came to an end. Warm skies dried the soaked fields, drawing daffodils, narcissus and poppies from the ground, birdsong filled the air and the university students and general population of Ghent, Bruges and Leuven flocked to the riverbanks and city parks to bake in the warm air and enjoy Belgium's favorite product — not chocolate, waffles, sprouts nor fries, but beer.