Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
L'aura del campo 'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos' ♣ Federico García Lorca ♣ L'aura del campo. A breeze in the meadow. So it began the last day of Spring, 2005; on the 16th day of the month of Light of the year 162. This is a supplement to my daily journal written to a friend, my muse; notes I do not share. Here I will share what the breeze has whispered to me. PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS! I LV COMMENTS! On a practical note, in answer to your questions: IN MEMORIUM VerySara passed away November 12, 2005 Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings. More suggested links: These pictures rotate. Kåre Enga ~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop, The Fish |
Dominicalito It's late January and tourists and wannabe surfers have sought other beaches. Full summer. Yes, the multitudes have gone back north. Yes, roads are a bit dusty. Yes, but... Be thankful: that the buses run on weekdays when locals are busy, that it's a bit far from a busy airport, that high-end resorts haven't moved in... shh ...yet. Light tan sand invites a walk where crabs scurry and gulls hunt for who-knows-what and who-knows-what lurks in the black back-water puddles. Stick to the beach and wet the feet. Be careful of the sun. Leave footprints that are erased with each gentle wave. But be wary of riptides even in this non-surfer season. Never go in alone. If you surf? Come back in July. Winter's best. Summer's tranquil... if a bit dry. At least it's not March! There's still water for the drinks at the local bar. Still ice cold cola at the sodas back in Dominical. Grab a towel. Sit awhile. Enjoy the silence of summer. © Copyright 2020 Kåre Enga [178.186] (12.juli.2021)
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