Posts tagged “nature”
A whale swam up the Thames. That was pretty cool. Then it died.
Stunning sunset over the UK today has me feeling spring's promise. Also discovered "anablog" -- I'm redefining it as notes you scribble on paper while traveling to post later. I have a massive one from my Tobago trip still waiting to go up.
Baby pandas are officially the cutest known form of life.
On a rainy British afternoon, it hits me: we're just interesting foam on a wet rock, hurtling through space around a giant furnace. Earth's liquid-covered existence is a cosmic fluke, and all life a thin, unlikely residue of it. We should probably remember this more often.
The English countryside gets far too much credit. It's just an endless patchwork of farmed fields and boggy moors, thoroughly spoiled long ago. People lamenting new housing developments should remember someone already cleared the forests. It's hardly unspoilt wilderness.
Spotted a sunbeam cutting across a grey London plaza today. A whole line of people stopped to stand in it. Spring is coming.
More photos from my parents' place in Mayaro: endless sunshine, a hot tub with a champagne holder and an ocean view, tropical flowers, and one impressive spider clinging to the hot tub cover. Consider this your selective deterrent or reassurance, depending on whether I want you to visit.
Visited the Asa Wright Nature Centre with my mom today, which was pleasant but slightly wasted on two locals who already knew everything our guide was telling the tourists. I also took some photos of Trinidad's stunning, relentless jungle. Fruit grows everywhere here without anyone even trying.
Just back from a few days on a tiny island off Trinidad, where the hills crash into the sea and sunsets turn everything into silhouettes against an impossible sky. It's the kind of beauty that makes you wax poetic and slightly embarrass yourself. Worth every cramped flight home.
Fog is strange and beautiful: it turns the world into a hushed horror film, wraps everything in golden haze, and makes lakes into perfect mirrors. Walking through it, I feel like I'm collecting the moisture myself, leaving a tunnel of dry air behind me.
Cool crop circle photos worth a look.
A poem reminding us that we live on a lucky rock, shielded from a nuclear sun, wrapped in living green, replenished by purifying rain. A million die each day, yet more are born. How dare we complain?
A poem about life's journey, using the metaphor of a leaf carried by a river. We can't control where life takes us, but we can control how we travel. So move fast, go far, and make your mark.
I turned off Madonna to listen to rain on the roof, and it sparked an insight: rain is the ultimate sound experience. It surrounds you completely, it's perfectly random, it carries no message or agenda, and every rainfall is utterly unique. No recording can ever replicate that.
