WONDERS

Short Stories. Photos and pictures. Poems even.


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makro#101

f050d-makronappi

Makroviikoilla on tarkoitus kuvata joka viikko jokin kohde LÄHELTÄ!

VIIKON AIHE:

KYNTTILÄ  – CANDLE.

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Poltan paljon kynttilöitä läpi vuoden. Arkisin suosin kynttilöitä, mitkä ovat purkissa tai lasissa. Ne eivät valu pöydälle, eikä niille tarvitse etsiä jalkoja tai vateja. Samoin tuikkaan matkalaukkuun usein pienen matkakynttilän, se tuo eteenkin trooppisiin kosteisiin kohteisiin heti pehmeän tuoksun. Valitsen tuoksun värien mukaan.  Lempituoksuni ovat miedot trooppiset tuoksu, hedelmät kuten mango, kiwi tai ananas. Vanilja tietysti, mutta ei se puuterimainen vaan mausteinen vanilja. Tai  kukat kuten orkidea tai plumeria. Vahvoista hajuvesimäisistä tuoksuista en tykkää.  Mikä nyt tuli sanotuksi, jos joku sattuisi välittämään 🙂

Lisäkuvia kynttilöistä.


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Haunted or not, we went

“The Spring Hill Cemetery, is located off of Fort Dade Ave. in Brooksville. It is an old black cemetery with the earliest “known” burial starting in the late 1800’s. At dusk you can see what seems to be a man hanging from a tree limb. Also, groups of spirits can be seen standing together around the headstones of family plots. One report states that an infant’s cry can be heard during certain times of the night.”

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Last week while visiting good old friends, Mr. and Mrs. O, the conversation turned to a cemetery close by. It was an old African-American, black burial site. It had been recently, maybe a couple of years ago, cleaned up and cleared of vegetation and thickets that had covered the plots. “It’s haunted,” Alex told, and right away he and my husband decided not to join our expedition. Cowards!

The cemetery was not far away. The day was beautiful, the sun was warm, the shadows dancing. We turned to a sandy road. There was a pick up truck in the middle of the road, and husky man with tattoos leaning on the hood. We slightly hesitated, but went on. A new gate was wide open and there was no-one on the site. The heavy Spanish moss-covered the big old trees. We carefully went from one grave to another, read the names, tried to guess their stories. Of course we had no knowledge of any of their lives, as always in the graveyards. People are born, people die. There is marker as a reminder, but who remembers?

Many of the graves were covered with cement blankets, some had handles on them. The stones had a beautiful patina. Some were unreadable. Many of sites were adorned with silk flowers; no natural plantings of any other kind like we are used in Europe. Barren. Simple. “God is Love” or “At Rest”, maybe “Mother” inscribed in the stone, very little anything else. The butterflies fluttered from a lantana to another, the little lizards were trying to play hide-n-seek, the moss swung with the breeze.

There was peacefulness.

On the way back, the truck had turned around, the driver was nowhere to be seen. Would we go into this gravesite again? Yes, but not at pitch-black Florida night.  No way!


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tuna fishing

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While visiting friends in Miami we had a beautiful chance to go out to ocean with them, on their boat. It was an overcast Monday and there were no other than us on the water. A huge ocean liner sailed off, but that’s it. My husband had an opportunity to try his skills on the wheel and you could see him dreaming of his own boat someday. Surely, someday! We saw dolphins play right in front of the big high-rise condominiums, pelicans flying around us and water splash high when the boat reached 50 miles on hour speed! We passed palm tree edged beaches and little harbors with boats lulling on the waves. We felt so lucky and enjoyed the luxury of it all. Company, without saying was the best! An old school friend, whom I have not met since we left the high school and her Cuban born husband. Not to say anything bad about that split of champagne either.

Once back at the dock, two young men also arrived, carrying two small tuna fish. You know how I am with the “young men”. So I asked if I would be allowed to take a picture of two. Surely, the one said and stepped away from the table, where he was cleaning the catch. “No, no, don’t move. I would like to see the process of cleaning. What’s for dinner?” “Sushi, for sure!” A hungry pelican was waiting for his share. A great day was had by all!

Spring is here!

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