Seeing with new eyes

One of my strongest childhood memories

is playing in the high mounds of fine white sand

that seemed to be a permanent fixture in the yard.

I remember the delight of finding these little egg shaped hollow ovals in the sand,

little treasures from the ocean which we called raalhu bis

which literally translates into "waves' eggs."

I have always thought that they look like eggs that have been sucked empty

with the fangs of a snake-like creature;

which would (to me) explain the two little holes on each of them.

But that is just me and my not so good relationship with snakes.

~In reality, they are the dead shells of tiny urchins

the spines now lost

and the surface made smooth by the waves

which lift them from the bottom of the lagoon

and wash them onto the beach~

But it was only when Em pointed it out yesterday

that I realised how each of these little treasures
had the exact same pattern of a five point star on them
like nature's own version of a dot-to-dot shape to be joined up.
Pretty amazing, huh?
The same star pattern on each of them,
even on the tiny ones just barely four millimetres in diameter.

All I can say is,
Subhan'Allah (سبحان الله)

~Glorious is God~

Sun, Sand and Sea

From here

to here

a haven just a stone's throw away from home.

Some of us just jump straight into the water

and let the waves float them

while always engaged in animated conversation.

Footwear abandoned

to make footprints

and dig toes into the sand.

This kirukakuni seems to think

that the sandcastle was built for himself.

A simple lunch of rice and tuna in coconut milk with whole spices

cooked over an open flame

and enjoyed with lime, chillies and rihaakuru.

More swimming and races in the water in the afternoon.

Later, Em and Hero wanted to catch their own fish

without any help.

And they did. Several each.

A day of sun, sand and sea.

Three Generations

Sixty-one

(my mum)

Thirty-one
(my sis)

Eight

(my daughter)

I am me

I enjoy days spent in the sun on the beach; but crave the coldness of snowy winters.

I love fish; but not shellfish. I have tried many, but have never really liked any of them.

I am good at remembering names and dates, and many useless facts; but ask me anything mathematical, and I am blank.

I am a nurturer; but I want to be taken care of.

I am stubborn; but not unreasonable (of course, I would say that!).

I have so much I want to say, sometimes I don't know where to begin; but sometimes, I am content to just sit and enjoy a comfortable silence without the need for words.

I like the luxury of posh hotels and comfortable beds; but I am equally happy roughing it out in the outdoors and sleeping under the stars.

I love dangly earrings; but I cannot wear necklaces. I find them just too uncomfortable.

I enjoy losing myself in a good movie; but I have no burning desire to find out about the private lives of movie stars.

I enjoy dressing up; but haute couture holds no interest for me.

I love with my whole heart. No ifs or buts about that one.

Naked = Unadorned

Bare.

Exposed.

Unadorned.

Naked.

Two shells on an old newspaper

~and for those who are unfamiliar with the thaana script, that is what Dhivehi looks like written, but upside down~

Bob Dylan describes a poem as being a naked person;

Rosalind Russell compares acting to standing up naked;

and Jimi Hendrix claimed that his writing was naked.

To me,

the word naked means bare
without any embellishments.

Like most of my images here,

this is SOOC,

and

thereby qualifies as

my G-rated interpretation of this week's prompt

for Sunday Creative,

naked.

Nothing better

Is there anything better

that sweet love notes

to bring on the smiles

and

make you

forget everything else?

I think not.

Mosaic Monday: How do we measure it?

Reading this book

always leads to the question of how love can be measured.

Can we calculate amounts in terms of

conventional measurements?

And if not,

how else can you compare it?

Who decides whether

the number of drops of water in the ocean

is bigger than

the number of grains of sand in the desert?

More mosaics via Mary.

Home

The green fronds of the swaying palms.

The first thing I see when I open my window.

The soft rustle of the fronds

I hear in the night.

A welcome relief from the heat.

A symbol of relaxation,

protection,

peace and warmth.

Qualities I associate with

home.

The coconut tree:

a national symbol

of these islands

I call home

that today celebrate 45 years of independence.

***

Claire, Kelly and Sarah
have initiated a new word play collaborative photo project

which starts with the prompt

home.

Won't you play along too?

Keeping me balanced

No, I don't like monotony.

I don't think anyone does.

But a part of me craves order and routine,

a need for a continuous pattern.

That part of me gets thrown out of balance

when one small aspect of the cycle gets taken out

even momentarily.

For instance,

I wake up early and I write.

I write while others sleep.

I write for myself.

I write for others.

I converse.

It is an hour in my day that I spend in the company of words,

but it is an hour that gives me balance

and acts as the stepping stone to the rest of the day.

Days that I miss out that step,

I seem to be out of sync somehow.

Prayer,

snuggles and stories at bedtime,

sitting round the table for dinner...

... they all act as pillars that keep the balance of my day.

What about you?

What are some of the things that give you a sense of balance?

The weekend in senses

Listening and singing along to Elvis Presley songs.

Hearing the sound of excited chatter and giggling.

Seeing happy smiles on little faces.

Watching the colours of the sunrise.

Smelling the sweet spiciness of cardamom, cloves, mace and cinammon,

as garam masala is blended.

Breathing in the freshness of the salty ocean breeze.

Feeling the cool smoothness of marbles in my hand,

the sensation transporting me instantly back to childhood.

Fingers wet as I slip off the slippery skins off broad beans.

Tasting hope... just a little of it.

Snacking on guava. Hmmm... now how do I describe that taste?

Watching waves

There are fewer things more soothing

than watching the waves roll in,

one following the other

travelling a path

to the shore

and back

again.

Words... at work and play

words

read and written

during the stillness of dawn;

emails

from a new friend

sharing thoughts and ideas;

listening

to words in my ear

draw pictures in my mind;

planning

words to appreciate,

inspire, and hopefully, make an impact.

Corner Views: Me

This is me,

once upon a time.

The first one

is from a series of shots of me and my elder sister

on the tricycle,

which,

my mum says is where we often also ate.

This second one

on yet another tricycle

is possibly my favourite picture of the three of us

~ever~

my two sisters and I.

I am the one with the mad hair,

of course.

Many things have changed over time,

but the mad hair...

... no sign of that ever changing.

***

Check out other corner views via the lovely Jane.

Observe

wings that flap

wings that glide

fish that swim

fish that just stare up at you