Showing posts with label flowers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label flowers. Show all posts
Thursday, May 24, 2018
Saturday, April 28, 2018
Wednesday, August 30, 2017
Sunday morning ramble at GNP
3rd March 2017
My first nature outing post surgery? No, I did go birding at the Bird Race in Jan, but this was a longer walk. GNP, so close to home and such a lovely little sanctuary.
Bulbuls called from everywhere, and the parakeets screeched overhead as we set off. A Golden Oriole sang.
An Indian Robin flew by as we stopped by one of the ponds. We startled a wild dog who had come for a drink. He watched us warily as he lapped up, thirstily. In the blink of an eye, he was gone.
My first nature outing post surgery? No, I did go birding at the Bird Race in Jan, but this was a longer walk. GNP, so close to home and such a lovely little sanctuary.
Bulbuls called from everywhere, and the parakeets screeched overhead as we set off. A Golden Oriole sang.
Is this the Ceylon Caper - Capparis zeylanica - I wondered? |
Leaves crunched underfoot as we wandered below the Banyan. A brown breasted flycatcher flitted above. |
The root tips caught the morning light and formed a screen in front of my face. |
Above, the branches spread in a beautiful tangle |
...of which I took several pictures. |
The Torchwood Trees (Ixora pavetta) were in bloom everywhere, and there were bees and butterflies all around them. |
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
Sunday, October 18, 2015
Basho and me
Wanderer, nature poet and philosopher.
Matsuo Chūemon Munefusa aka Basho, Haiku Master.
I was reading his Haikus yesterday, and these ones particularly stuck in my head as so apt for the wanderers in our family.
I was reading his Haikus yesterday, and these ones particularly stuck in my head as so apt for the wanderers in our family.
Wake! The sky is light!
let us to the road
again . . .
Companion butterfly!
|
Copsia-petal
fell in silent dawn . . .
spilling
A water-jewel.
(The original Basho was with Camellia)
|
Ah me! I am one
who spends his little
breakfast
Morning-glory gazing.
|
Long conversations
beside blooming amarylses –
joys of life on the road.
(The original Basho was with irises)
|
In the twilight rain
these brilliant-hued
hibiscus . . .
A lovely sunset
|
Lady butterfly
perfumes her wings
by floating
Over the orchid.
|
Silent the old town . . .
the scent of flowers
floating . . .
And evening bell.
|
I'm a wanderer
so let that be my name –
the first winter rain
|
Monday, July 20, 2015
Wednesday, June 3, 2015
My mother's garden
18th April
It is a sunny summers day in Madras. I open the gate and stand for a minute. It is always the same, I enter the garden and my mind is stilled, and life slows down.
This time, I am thankful for this refuge, this personal sanctuary and linger on outside. I postpone seeing my mother's warm smile and walking in to my father's cheerful chatter as I quietly make my way around the house.
The gnarled trunk of the Bottlebrush tree has always been my favourite, and today, it looks magical with the Peltaforum flowers like little drops of sunshine on the ground
The lipstick red of the Hibiscus blazes in the sun, while in the shade the Amaralis lilies are more muted and elegant I thought.
I had not noticed this creamy bloom before in the garden, was it a new addition, I wondered. Or has it been so long since I wandered around the back?
The crows seem to know too, as they hang around and caw. The mynahs on the coconut tree seemed to be discussing my presence in a most disapproving fashion, while the sunbirds ignored me, too busy in their search for nectar.
A parakeet went screeching into the neighbour's garden, as I moved on further and came across these flowers. The little white ones, (need to find out what they are called), I wonder if they belong to the grass family.
In the corner by the wall, the spider lilies grow in abundance, happy for the space, the sunshine and the water it seemed.
As I circled back to the front, the always blooming desert rose greeted me. The seed from this plant has grown in a pot in my balcony, and I love the way it blooms in the hot Madras summer.
Back to the Peltaforum tree that had showered its flowers under the bottle brush, and I have come full circle.
My little "pilgrimage" done.
It is a sunny summers day in Madras. I open the gate and stand for a minute. It is always the same, I enter the garden and my mind is stilled, and life slows down.
This time, I am thankful for this refuge, this personal sanctuary and linger on outside. I postpone seeing my mother's warm smile and walking in to my father's cheerful chatter as I quietly make my way around the house.
The gnarled trunk of the Bottlebrush tree has always been my favourite, and today, it looks magical with the Peltaforum flowers like little drops of sunshine on the ground
Along the wall, the Quisqualis flowers nod in bunches. |
I stand in their shade and look up at the bright blue sky and Louis Armstrong's "What a Wonderful World" plays in my head. |
The Copsia delights my Ikebana senses, with its graceful lines and delicate flowers |
Those flowers, in shades of pink and white, so lovely yet so shortlived. |
I had not noticed this creamy bloom before in the garden, was it a new addition, I wondered. Or has it been so long since I wandered around the back?
The mango flowers were precursors of the coming season |
A parakeet went screeching into the neighbour's garden, as I moved on further and came across these flowers. The little white ones, (need to find out what they are called), I wonder if they belong to the grass family.
In the corner by the wall, the spider lilies grow in abundance, happy for the space, the sunshine and the water it seemed.
Back to the Peltaforum tree that had showered its flowers under the bottle brush, and I have come full circle.
My little "pilgrimage" done.
Monday, May 26, 2014
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Friday, September 13, 2013
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