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Tag Archives: seasons

Treasure hunting for the crown’s jewels


The crown's jewels ┬ęcopyright2014owpp

The crown’s jewels
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To me, the sea, mountains & its creatures living on premises are the crown’s jewels & when we go out there, I like hunting with my loved ones bringing back a testimony to share with all of you the extraordinary every day miracles of a planet we tend to take for granted because we have it & see it on a daily basis.
I’ve got a collection of seventeen photos which I carefully selected including some of the every day occurrence to put you in the ambiance of the unusually sunny, windless shores two days ago!
I hope you’ll enjoy this post too ­čÖé

View at the end of stone-path   ┬ęcopyright2014owpp

View at the end of stone-path
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Focusing on the small but living... ┬ęcopyright2014owpp

Focusing on the small but living…
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More... ┬ęcopyright2014owpp

More…
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And even closer ┬ęcopyright2014owpp

And even closer
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Waves"playing"around the stones ┬ęcopyright2014owpp

Waves”playing”around the stones
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Body & texture... ┬ęcopyright2014owpp

Body & texture…
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Nearly caught by high tide :) ┬ęcopyright2014owpp

Nearly caught by high tide ­čÖé
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Other sea members finding a niche ┬ęcopyright2014owpp

Other sea members finding a niche
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Isn't that a comfortable home? ┬ęcopyright2014owpp

Isn’t that a comfortable home?
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Last shot of a perfect view before hitting the sand :) ┬ęcopyright2014owpp

Last shot of a perfect view before hitting the sand ­čÖé
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Heart-shaped jewel ┬ęcopyright2014owpp

Heart-shaped jewel
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Simplicity of the moment... ┬ęcopyright2014owpp

Simplicity of the moment…
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Passerby's doing the same ┬ęcopyright2014owpp

Passerby’s doing the same
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High tide catching up ┬ęcopyright2014owpp

High tide catching up
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Another story unfolds... ┬ęcopyright2014owpp

Another story unfolds…
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Last but NEVER least :) ┬ęcopyright2014owpp

Last but NEVER least ­čÖé
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Autumn sunshine


Autumn sunshine Nov.2013 ┬ęcopyright2013owpp

Autumn sunshine Nov.2013
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A.S close up Nov. 2013 ┬ęcopyright2013owpp

A.S close up Nov. 2013
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This blogger http://oilpastelsbymary.com/ does the most amazing drawing in oil pastels and inspired me so much that I went out to buy myself (I was lucky to find them on sale!) Sennelier oil pastels in the basic colors to try out the novelty of texture & technique required. This is the results of having a load of fun with my imagination ­čÖé

I had no idea which brand to choose but only asked for one that would be easier to mix & work with. I got really lucky because I found out later that a lot of artist prefer working with it.

Through the seasons of life


crunching under the burden... ┬ęcopyright2013owpp

crunching under the burden…
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Leaving early in the morn
Your heart heavy yet light
With hope…

You travel the void of
Subways and commuters,
Walk through dead leaves
Crunching under the burden
Imposed…

Greeted by a lambent
Welcome, a twinkle thick
With enthusiasm you whisper
a small prayer for the tiny
Warm hand

Fitting trustingly yours,
Unaware of the odyssey in
Its genesis unconcerned
About the accessories…
A prerequisite

For endurance as he walks
through the seasons of life
The arteries…

Of his universe

Nature in its full glory


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Your branches heavily
In bloom swing in
The breeze with the
Weightlessness of a
Feather embalming
The air with the
Softness of spring
Promises…

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Name: Cherry blossom tree
(Disambiguation) Originally
imported from Japan. In
Japanese Sakura.

Winter jaws


Snow teeth ┬ęcopyright2013owpp

Snow teeth
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Winter jaws
Claiming ownership
In its arctic grip

The impracticality of distance February 1996 readjusted to a prose January 2013


Lido 2012 ┬ęcopyright2013owpp

Lido 2012
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Those are writings from the 1990’s which I thought I’d never use due to my
lack of experience then, in writing but to my delight and surprise ( I do
surprise even myself! ) I got down to work on Sunday, took the core and changed
it totally using the words that cried out in attention and putting it in a prose
versus the article it was. I was astonished and

pleased at the result which shows, there is always a time for anything we write,
given we have patience and believe anything is possible with a drop of will ­čÖé

The impracticality of distance
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One OÔÇÖclock
All is silent
Each one
Long gone
In their own
Planet of dreams

My mind floats
To many ports
One of them yours.
I think how
Far away
You too are long gone

In your world
Your vision
Inhabiting one
So strange to me.
Doing those same things
Void of mystery.

Eventful or not
Working, unwinding
So simple, so alive
What life is all about.
Practical
And tumultuous.

The ink flows
On my pages
Engraving words
Buried deep
Silence surrounding
This cubicle of thoughts.

Trying to make sense
Of life, of my love
For you.
They are there
Fooling me
Appeasing you

Erasing the,
Impracticality
The impossibility
Of distance.
Secrets of the night,
Leaving the world

Of darkness
Drifting toward
Daylight waking
To sunshine
Bracing a day
With the stamina

Of a professional.
Cold sometimes
Suppressing it,
Wanting to bury
Under covers
Your ingenuity.

Recognizable
Routine
To the bare eyes
Yet different.
By the impracticality
Of distance.

In the act of writing March 2011


Eiffel tower wheels ┬ęcopyright2013owpp

Eiffel tower wheels
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This essay was one of my assignments and was written in a tongue-in-cheek manner,
I do not take myself that seriously ­čÖé It was about describing oneself in the act
of writing, which I called just thatÔÇŽ

In the act of writing
—————–

I usually prepare an assignment long in advance.
Plotting, collecting information, mincing, digesting the style that is about to be born.
Yet, today, I come as ludicrously bare as can be.
I stare at a white immaculate sheet of paper and ponder at the outrageous idea of writing, as a working exercise, as opposed to a burst of fervid passion.
Or, to the growth of my imagination spilling forth in an overflow.
I am surrounded by dictionaries and thesauruses of all kind that, I trust, will unravel the mysteries of words and impel me to the creation of a literary magnificence.
Gilded rays of a timid autumn sun pierce through the remote glass window door, of the balcony, maintaining this room in perpetual darkness, keeping its occupants in sempiternal slumber throughout the seasons of the years.
Nevertheless, I find my mind juggling with phraseology, feeling like a choreographer bearing the conception of a chef-dÔÇÖoeuvre.
I amalgate ideas, terms, observations and philosophies, in anticipation of a new eraÔÇŽ
The creation of my magnum opus.
Hours slide by, in the stimulating atmosphere of reflection and contemplation and I see, merging from the profundity and intricacies of my brain, the outlines of what seems the sketches of an essay.
The gratification of my labor.
I hold dearly unto my chain of thoughts hushing anyone daring any resemblance of vicinity.
I toil away, inching my way through the haze and vasty of language, aware of a day coming to its end, as the sun retrieves its warmth, preparing itself to enlighten another part of the planetÔÇÖs obscurities.
I close the chapter at its culmination, satisfied by the denouement, at peace by its genesis and in synchronization with the heartbeats of the universe.
I look around and become aware, au fait of stepping out of a different dimension.

All is still.

Everyone having left me to my occupations and busy with theirs, outdoors.
I am surprised to observe the constant rebirth of my soul at the completion of what I fantasize, is

the emergence of my prodigy ­čÖé