A seasonal pastime remains a social fixture as new venues extend the tradition into colder months, Palden Nyima and Zheng Jinran report.

A light autumn rain fell over a mountain valley on the northern outskirts of Lhasa, capital of the Xizang autonomous region. Inside the glass-walled rooms at A-Tso Manor, families and friends gathered around tables, sipping tea and coffee, sharing meals and enjoying a leisurely weekend.

Outside, children played in the courtyard as the smell of grilled meat drifted from a barbecue area. Clouds partly obscured the surrounding mountains, and the September air carried a distinct chill. Yet inside the heated rooms, the gatherings continued in warmth and comfort.

The scene captures how guo lingka, a long-standing Tibetan tradition of spending leisure time outdoors with family and friends, is finding new expressions beyond its customary summer season.

Grassy riverbanks and colorful tents remain hallmarks of summer outings. But venues offering heated indoor spaces, ready-made meals and modern recreational facilities are making the pastime possible throughout the year.

Dudul, manager of A-Tso Manor, said the venue combines outdoor recreation with year-round dining and leisure services that cater to visitors in every season.

"In summer, many guests prefer sitting outside on the grass, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air," Dudul says. "When the weather gets colder, they can move indoors, where heating keeps them comfortable."

The manor serves Chinese and Western dishes, along with coffee and other beverages. Guests can choose between outdoor canopies and indoor dining rooms without bringing their own cooking equipment, tents or food.

For Metok, a Lhasa resident who enjoys weekend outings with relatives and friends, these changes have turned what was once a carefully planned excursion into a more spontaneous affair.

"We used to bring everything ourselves, including meat, vegetables, gas cylinders, cooking utensils, tents and mats," she recalls. "Now we can simply come to a lingka venue and order whatever we want to eat."

Metok remembers a time when meals on such outings consisted mainly of beef, potatoes and flour-based dishes. Today, the options are far more varied, while activities at some venues extend from traditional singing and dancing to swimming, games and other recreational pursuits.

For older residents, the changes also bring back memories of how the tradition has evolved over generations.

Konchok, 58, first experienced lingka outings as a young man in his 20s, when leisure destinations were concentrated around the city's established gardens and parks.

"In those days, people mainly went to Norbulingka and the areas around Dzongyab Lukhang Park," he says. "Later, more people began visiting valleys around Lhasa, including Palding, Nyangral, and Dogde."

The growing choice of destinations has brought greater convenience and improved facilities. Tents now come in a variety of sizes and styles, often furnished with tables, seating and entertainment equipment.

Konchok says he and his friends went on lingka outings less frequently when they were young. Today, better facilities make it easier to arrange gatherings whenever time permits.

The Tibetan word lingka means garden or park, while guo lingka refers to the practice of spending leisure time in natural surroundings, often eating, drinking tea, singing, dancing and socializing.

Nyiten, an ethnology professor at Xizang University, says the custom has long been intertwined with local festivals and social traditions.

Although historical records offer relatively few detailed accounts of this everyday pastime, lingka gatherings have been closely associated with the Shoton Festival. During the festival, residents traditionally enjoy yogurt, watch Tibetan opera and spend time together in gardens.

The tradition also has links to gardens once used by Tibetan aristocratic families, and numerous place names containing the word lingka have survived in Lhasa.

Despite the rise of modern leisure venues, traditional summer lingka sites remain an integral part of local life, particularly in villages around the city, Nyiten says.

In a valley near Palding village on Lhasa's eastern outskirts, colorful Tibetan-style tents lined a stream as the summer season drew to a close.

The sound of running water filled the valley, while the breeze carried the scent of grass and damp earth. Inside a large tent, adults relaxed around a table laden with food and drinks. Nearby, children chased one another across the grass.

Drolma, a local woman who runs a traditional lingka site, was cleaning and tidying the grounds between visits from guests.

She says business typically begins in May, with the busiest period running from late May to early September. She estimates that the site earned her family about 30,000 to 40,000 yuan ($4,500 to $5,600) during the season, providing an important source of income.

Her business primarily involves renting out tents and providing basic recreational facilities, keeping investment and operating costs relatively low.

Nyiten says many such sites in the valleys around Lhasa are run by local residents. During the peak season, smaller tents at some locations rent for 300 to 500 yuan a day.

Beyond the economic benefits, he sees the tradition as a valuable way to sustain personal relationships in an increasingly digital society. As people spend more time on smartphones and other devices, opportunities for meaningful face-to-face interaction can become limited, even among relatives and close friends, he says.

Sharing a meal, talking, singing and simply spending time together can help strengthen those bonds.

For Metok, the enduring appeal of lingka lies in the connections it fosters, despite changes in venues, food and facilities.

"The way we enjoy lingka and the services available may change over time," she says. "But what never changes is the chance to put aside work and worries and cherish time together with family and friends."