Let’s twist again, like we did last summer

Twisted

twisted
ladies’ fingers (okra)

When I see this week’s photo challenge, I think of Chubby Checker and his famous “Let’s twist again” which I randomly came across on YouTube last week. I also found a picture of an okra (ladies’ fingers) plant I took in 2014 in a remote Cambodian village resort. Somehow the two have come to my notice. Amazing match. So, here they are—please like.

https://youtu.be/eh8eb_ACLl8

Excerpts quoted from wikipedia:

“Let’s Twist Again” is a song written by Kal Mann and Dave Appell, and released as a single by Chubby Checker. One of the biggest hit singles of 1961, it reached No.8 on the U.S. Billboard pop chart (No.3 on Cash Box) in August of that year and subsequently reached No.2 in the U.K. in February 1962. The song refers to the Twist dance craze and Checker’s 1960 single “The Twist”, a two-time U.S. No.1 single (in September 1960 and again in January 1962 on re-release). Chubby Checker (birth name Ernest Evans; October 3, 1941) is an American rock n roll singer and dancer. He started performing at eight and introduced his version of “The Twist” at 16. By 22, he was a millionaire. He is widely known for popularising many dance styles including the twist dance style. He also popularized the “Limbo Rock” and its trademark limbo dance, as well as various dance styles such as The Fly.

Textures: a sky, an earth, a tree and a light.

texture sky earth treeTextures  of a sky, an earth and a tree as displayed by a light. Sometimes a picture just happens.  This was taken in autumn 2015. I went to see some colors of autumn. Somehow this picture came out rather off color. Looking at it now I realize it had demonstrated something I did not notice then. The light is a key part to the display of textures. The tree appeared to be the centre of the focus and yet it was off the mark. It had blurred into the distant trees. When viewed from this dark side, that autumn seemed bleak and forlorn. However, standing from the side of the light a different world was revealed. In those pictures taken with the light shining on the trees, they were in fact richly dressed up in brilliant red and orange and gold garments, in ripeness and blessed abundance of a good season. I have reserved those pictures for another good story, a story with another weekly photo challenge name.

promise you won’t forget about me, ever. Not even when I’m a hundred.

friendI wanna grow old with you. When I am a hundred and you are ninety-nine, my Friend.  
I use a tree and a rock to depict the kind of friendship we need. both can live to over a century.
Here is a touching passage from a classic children’s book about friendship. It can better describe what being good friends are than I can.
“Then, suddenly again, Christopher Robin, who was still looking at the world, with his chin in his hand, called out “Pooh!” “Yes?” said Pooh. “When I’m–when–Pooh!” “Yes, Christopher Robin?” “I’m not going to do Nothing any more.” “Never again?” “Well, not so much. They don’t let you.” Pooh waited for him to go on, but he was silent again. “Yes, Christopher Robin?” said Pooh helpfully. “Pooh, when I’m–you know–when I’m not doing Nothing, will you come up here sometimes?” “Just me?” “Yes, Pooh.” “Will you be here too?” “Yes Pooh, I will be really. I promise I will be Pooh.” “That’s good,” said Pooh. “Pooh, promise you won’t forget about me, ever. Not even when I’m a hundred.” Pooh thought for a little. “How old shall I be then?” “Ninety-nine.” Pooh nodded. “I promise,” he said. Still with his eyes on the world Christopher Robin put out a hand and felt Pooh’s paw. “Pooh,” said Christopher Robin earnestly, “if I–if I’m not quite–” he stopped and tried again– “Pooh, whatever happens, you will understand, won’t you?” “Understand what?” “Oh, nothing.” He laughed and jumped to his feet. “Come on!” “Where?” said Pooh. “Anywhere.” said Christopher Robin.

So, they went off together. But wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on the top of the Forest, a little boy and his Bear will always be playing.”
― A.A. Milne, The House at Pooh Corner

Tiny flowers and a poem

tiny-flowers
Tiny Tiny Flowers – Poem by Eloida Capuno: i always look
out for
those sweet
tiny
flowers
more than
the others
in the garden
with their
vibrant
colors
huge
and exotic
maybe
because
the little
ones
like some
innocent
children
are left
to fend for
themselves

I thought I would just post another poet’s poem on tiny flowers today. I took this picture because they are so tiny and their colors so quiet. When I look closely I realize that each flower is a cluster of many tinier flowers! Each tiny flower forming the overall formation is so orderly and cohesive with others in shape and size. I like the poem because I can also identify the little flowers with young poor children being forced into the street and left on their own to make a living. They are not completely helpless. They soon learn to form their own tiny regimental group just to stand together and survive together. Where do they learn to do so? Is there a program in their genes? I believe so. Even tiny flowers.

I saw a crowd, A host, of golden shinning daffodils

Shine little flowers, just like little stars.
shine-yellow-flowersOne day a woman decided to plant a single bulb. This single bulb turned into many more and soon she had a field filled with daffodils. The daffodil field has refreshed many tired and wearied hearts and her story of a mere small and humble start with just one single bulb which grew into a vast sea of beautiful yellow flowers has motivated others and changed the belief that a small thing is too small to matter. Daffodils belong to the genus Narcissus. Their flowers have a trumpet-shaped structure set against a star-shaped background. In temperate climates they flower among the earliest blooms in spring. I took this picture in early spring. Daffodils often grow in large clusters, covering lawns and even entire hillsides with yellow. The flowers symbolize friendship, and are some of the most popular flowers due to their unmatched beauty. Here is a poem all about daffodils and stars, beautifully presenting a lively picture of daffodils that dance like the stars, shining and twinkling. Even a lonely traveler stops feeling lonely in their company!

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

balancing on edge

Edge
edge-balanceSomeone sent this photo to me. It is interesting as it is like someone performing a balancing act with one limb standing. It reminds me of life. Often we have not much choice in our circumstances. We can opt to stand (even if handicapped) or fall. In this case this rock opts to stand precariously along the edge of a hill/mountain slope. Amazing how nature portrays our daily lives. How long has it been standing? Pretty long, I am told. It is in a national park, a regular tourist visit place. What keeps it from tumbling over and roll down the slope or worse crashing down the chasm and crumbling to pieces? Does this rock fear of its plausible fate? There seems a hidden gigantic hand that holds it there, in place, over the ages, along an edge and always on edge. Again, I can’t help but marvel at the many things we are yet to find out about a realm which we cannot see with our physical eyes.

Bible verses that come to my mind:
Isaiah 44:8 Do not fear, nor be afraid; Have I not told you from that time, and declared it? You are My witnesses. Is there a God besides Me? Indeed there is no other Rock; I know not one.’”
Isaiah 48:21 And they did not thirst When He led them through the deserts; He caused the waters to flow from the rock for them; He also split the rock, and the waters gushed out.

learning to yield

Learning (daily prompt)
rare oil flowerThis snapshot is taken from a small portion of an original oil painting of flowers that look like porcelain. Many years ago someone gave the oil painting to a medical practitioner and it occupied a prominent spot on her wall for fifteen years. When she decided to retire early and closed her clinic she had no place to hang it anymore. It lied among a group of paintings for some years. I chanced upon this when clearing the store. After giving it a clean up I took some snapshots of the flowers at various angles with and without daylight, at random and for no particular reasons. I normally do not do this kind of things. What has made me try to capture a fragment of a memory of someone else’s past?  I look at this picture and marvel at my action. It is a rare behavior as far as I am concerned. But I was not acting on impulse. I remember that morning when I looked at some old things in a store. I was looking for something else. The oil painting was in the way. So I looked at it and thought perhaps I could still find a gem here. Maybe one of the flowers I captured would one day appear in my blog somewhere somehow under a different name. I chose this particular flower because she was bending/bowing its head, perhaps nodding and saying yes. Looking at this picture again today I realize that in a way she is a rare gem. Not exceptionally outstanding and I cannot even figure out the name of the painter, and yet she has a way of making a statement by being herself. Why was she bending? Was she under the sway of the wind? Was the pressure of lifting up her head a bit heavy for her delicate stalk? Did a toddler accidentally spill some milk on her? If she is real she must be quite rare with all those colors. I am still learning.

weekly photo challenge:Rare

transparency

blue transparent

a choice many scorn

yet some function well therein

like this little one

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But if you cause one of these little ones who trusts in me to fall into sin, it would be better for you to have a large millstone tied around your neck and be drowned in the depths of the sea.

“Beware that you don’t look down on any of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels are always in the presence of my heavenly Father.

Good words are like buds

words are like buds

good words are like buds

nurturing lives for thousands’ years

never sleep nor nap

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Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.

[ ל Lamed ] Forever, O Lord, Your word is settled in heaven.

words plus plus plus

words plus

Good words sow good seeds

always plus and not minus

miraculous life

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But the seed falling on good soil refers to someone who hears the word and understands it. This is the one who produces a crop, yielding a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.” (Matthew 13:23)

Others, like seed sown on good soil, hear the word, accept it, and produce a crop—some thirty, some sixty, some a hundred times what was sown.” (Mark 4:20)

But the seed on good soil stands for those with a noble and good heart, who hear the word, retain it, and by persevering produce a crop. (Luke 8:15)

For you have been born again, not of perishable seed, but of imperishable, through the living and enduring word of God. (1 Peter 1:23)

words and flowers

small flowers

Seamless overlapping

clouds, copies, dates, tiles, waves, words

not superfluous

===================

With my lips I have declared
All the judgments of Your mouth.
14 I have rejoiced in the way of Your testimonies,
As much as in all riches.
15 I will meditate on Your precepts,
And contemplate Your ways.
16 I will delight myself in Your statutes;
I will not forget Your word.

(Psalm 119:13-16) (NKJV)

words and leaves

december leaves

good words like lush leaves

prolific but not prolix

procreate new lives

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Let no corrupt word proceed out of your mouth, but what is good for necessary edification, that it may impart grace to the hearers. ( Ephesians 4:29 ) (NKJV)

Stop all your dirty talk. Say the right thing at the right time and help others by what you say. (Contemporary English Version)

 A man will be satisfied with good by the fruit of his mouth, And the recompense of a man’s hands will be rendered to him. (Proverbs 12:14)
We are rewarded or punished for what we say and do. (Contemporary English Version)