This was taken on 2020-06-09. I call it a bonanza of snow.
Bonanza to me means a large amount of something desirable. Snow is a novelty to me. The snow came suddenly in October 2019. I enjoyed having a large amount of snow throughout the period I was there. There were also lovely blue sky sunny days in between. The last snow I encountered was on 9th June, 2020, three days before I left the States and flew off to a sunny country. The sun is good for me, but I do miss the snow.
I have been thinking about time and found this picture in time passed. This was taken in a place called Baray, at a remote province in an ancient kingdom. It was an ordinary sunny day for a transient traveler. I did not know then I was to return and extend my stay because there was a long story to be written.
I chose this picture at random. When I look closer now I notice the immaculate hand carving on the piece of wood that held up the stairs, commemorating the timeless care and love for art of this people.
Unlike an outsider like me from a relatively developed city, the dust is of no consequence to them. I looked at the superficial cover of dust everywhere. But the artist looked at each piece of solid material (in this case, real wood) underneath the dust cover and decided to make a beauty out of it. I looked at the bicycles and wondered how anyone could bear to ride on them. The proud owners looked at them as valuable assets that enhanced their livelihood. I looked at the lean chicken and wondered they would be of any commercial value. The farmers told me that they didn’t normally eat the chicken as they were considered expensive dishes. They kept the chicken for their eggs and an important day in the future, or for a valued guest from a faraway land…
Yes, I will remember that November day in 2014 —a time in the light of another life, for a long time.
I decided to start with my own photograph, “partnered” with a stranger’s poem I found at random in the WordPress blogs. Here is the first poem that aptly titled October Sky (Poem). By clicking on the quote below, you will find a poem that speaks from the soul of a poet. What can be more heart-felt than photographs and poetry after all?