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.