Category: Nature

The Tyrant’s Daughter

Early morning vibes

“What do you mean we have to jump in the ocean at 6:30 a.m.?” We were planning on snorkeling in Maui. Islands, especially those closer to the equator like Hawaii, have a sort of early morning energy to them, that dwellers from the mainlands like Yours Truly have difficulty comprehending.

The husband shrugged, and said either something to the effect of only-time-available or only-time-it-is-done. He was already tucking into toasted bagels, sounding happy and energetic. I whined. “You’re such a Tyrant for waking us up at this ungodly hour!” He laughed, and thrust a cup of coffee into my hands.

The daughter gave me a scolding, “Amma – if you have to go snorkeling you have to get up at 5:30. You can nap the rest of the day like a sea turtle sunning on a beach if you’d like, but you have to get up now.”

“Well – buddy up with him, why don’t you? You’re the Tyrant’s Daughter. That should be title of my book – The Tyrant’s Daughter! Why does he have to be so peppy at 5 in the morning?”

“Because we’re snorkeling. You kind of have to be!” She said, and I scowled at her. I sent baleful glances the whole way to the boat. I still wasn’t sure about the whole jumping in the ocean at dawn thing, but apparently fish don’t listen.

“You jump off here – and you can swim up to there – you’ll see some turtles if you’re lucky. Keep your distance..” I shivered, as the captains of the boat went on with their instructions.

The waters shimmered and looked beautiful. I am not denying that. We had spotted two whales and a baby on the way there. Granted, they didn’t look cold, but they hadn’t been pulled from a downy comforter in a room that already had the thermostat set to a comfortable temperature, had they?

Flip Float & Fiddle

I watched braver souls splash into the waters and flip off with their flippers and snorkels in place, while I just stood there praying for strength and warmth. Finally, when it was getting a bit shameful to put it off any longer, I took the plunge too. Once I got the hang of it, it was marvelous. 

I don’t know what the whales were thinking just about then, but I could’ve told them, the waters were not cold at all. Getting a healthy swim right around sunrise is the heartiest thing to do.

I flipped off and peered down into the most beautiful coral reefs. It was teeming with fish, and there up ahead was a large turtle having his shell cleaned by the reef fish, It was a gorgeous sight to behold. The sun’s rays piercing through the waters combined with the silver and black fish that were in abundance in the reef, and the turtle, put me in a sort of trance. I felt my heart stop several times as the turtle swam towards me – why do turtles look like they are smiling? Before I knew it, I heard someone holler at me to come back to the boat.

Note: Picture not from snorkeling, but elsewhere

Our next stop was equally breathtaking, and here, we saw rainbow fish, yellow sun fish and so many happy creatures, it was amazing. The corals are true marvels of creation. Here we are, trying our best to hold leaking roofs together, plastering walls, soldering outlets, while the reefs build and hold with grace and pressure.

I feel the tug in my heart to quote Gerald Durrell here. It is from one of my favorite essays in the book, Fruit Bats and Golden Pigeons by Gerald Durrell. Titled, The Enchanted World.

Quote:

Any naturalist who is lucky enough to travel, at certain moments has experienced a feeling of overwhelming exultation at the beauty and complexity of life <….>  You get it when you see a butterfly emerge from a chrysalis <…> You get it when you see a gigantic school of dolphins stretching as far as the eye can see, rocking and leaping exuberantly though their blue world <…. >

But there is one experience, perhaps above all others, that a naturalist should try to have before he dies and that is the astonishing and humbling experience of exploring a tropical reef. You become a fish, hear and see and feel as much like one as a human being can; yet at the same time you are like a bird, hovering, swooping and gliding across the marine pastures and forests.

You Are Not a Tyrant!

When finally I hauled myself back on to the boat, I started to feel cold again. But down there, in the waters, it was heavenly. I shimmied up to the husband and said, “You are not a tyrant for waking me up! It was so lovely – thank you!” He gave me a loud guffaw, and laughed.

The daughter said, “I think I need an apology over here as well.” She had a sort of shine that happy mermaids get after a morning of frolicking, and was chomping Hawaiian chips. “If I remember correctly, you were writing books about the Tyrant’s Daughter a few hours ago.“

I smiled sheepishly. Or Turtlishly maybe.

“Fine! You get an apology too. It was beautiful!” I said, and I couldn’t stop smiling. I thought I’d left my heart in the reefs, but then what was that huge tug I felt in my torso as I beamed my love out into the world around me?

Note: These pictures were taken in Monterey Bay and not under the seas at Maui. I did not take underwater cameras with me to record. I simply drank in the scenes and a bit of the Pacific Ocean too.

Dramatic Rainy Day Imagery

Not Dramatic?

“I did not like going for a walk in the rain the other day.” I said. The children clutched their hearts. The husband looked up from his chess game, which if you know the husband, is huge. I rolled my eyes.

“Oh come on! It’s not that dramatic!”

“Not dramatic?! Baboons battling elephants isn’t dramatic. You not enjoying on a rainy day walk?”

“Let’s pull up your posts, shall we?”

Rainy Day Adventures

“Okay….I get the point! Nothing unifies you lot more than this, huh?!”

Slithering Serpents, Morphing Worms, Shuddering Breaths

The husband kept his chess aside, and came to me looking concerned, as I fiddled about in the kitchen. “So what happened?”

“Nothing! It really was nothing. Usually I quite like…”

I gallantly ignored the snickering “Quite like indeed!”, and proceeded, “Just .. maybe I should’ve gone when it had just started to rain, and there was still light outside. As it was, by the time I went most of the sidewalks had flooded over, the darkness and cold had made things difficult everywhere. The street lights illuminated things I’d rather not have seen: there were such large earthworms everywhere! When did they get so huge? I mean, at that point are they earthworms anymore?”

“No mother – they are slithering serpents!” I glared at the brother-sister duo. They were having too much fun, and reveling in building on each other’s point to notice. I suppose points were to be given for quickness of repartee or whatever it is these debating champs award.

A Grouchy Day Walk

“You know that’s why most people don’t walk in the rain? They don’t come prancing in all wet, and shining with an inner light and all that. They huddle indoors. “

“They sip tea. They light candles.”

“They listen to music, watch TV.”

“You can try any of these things next time, and let us know how you feel!”

“Well – thank you all for telling me how you really feel! I am not going to be inviting any of you idiots on a rainy day adventure with me next time!” I said, making sure to point my nose in the air, and huffing impressively.

“Promise?” they said. 

The glee, I tell you! I couldn’t help laughing. 

This is not to say that I shall not go on other rainy day walks. I am too much of a pluviophile for that. Just that I didn’t enjoy that one. It was the earthworms mainly. The cold too. My aches and pains may have contributed. I sound like a proper grouch, don’t I? Everyone is entitled to a grouchy day walk aren’t they?

If Earthworms could fly

The day after though, I stepped out, and felt like a caterpillar who’s itching to burst into wings and flutter about. It was beautiful. I loved the clean Earth. The Earth was bursting with promise. The bare trees were looking stark in their beauty of abscission. The footpaths were cleaned of debris – all washed away, and all of the Earth’s songs were bright and beautiful.

I don’t know what the earthworms were doing, but couldn’t help thinking that they must envy the caterpillars right about now – imagine bursting wings to fly a day after the rains? I sent a wave to the butterflies on my walk. I wonder what they do when it rains – it must hamper their flight, isn’t it? I think I detected a humph from an earthworm buried deep in the mud. 

Amulee’s Green Party

The Cave of Quietude – Keats

There is a sort of quiet happiness – The cave of quietude as Keats so elegantly puts it, a rather meditative sort of space where the soul expands. It is truly astonishing.

It happens when you are sitting and marveling at life – it could be on a beach like I did in Maui recently. A sort of reverent hush crept in – It was time for the sunset. The waves were calm and all around us were signs that we were meant to be peaceful with the Earth around us.  The children and I went off on a little saunter to catch the sunset at a leisurely pace.

There, by a log of wood, I stopped short and said “Ooh – look somebody made a sea turtle out of rocks and sands!”

We had watched an instagrammer make a sand castle earlier, putting all amateur attempts to shame. So, I really thought it was another beach artist showing off their skills. (There are so many ways in which people are famous these days, it almost makes fame look normal.)

Aamai, Amul, Amulee

“Ummm – it looks like a real turtle to me!”, said the son, walking cautiously. But he also heard Maui’ian rules about keeping 10 feet from a turtle, so we settled on a log of wood conveniently placed 15-20 feet away to watch. Was it alive. Was it real. Thrilling questions for one on a sunset walk by the beach wouldn’t you agree?

We sat there and hoped it was real and alive. It would be such a tragedy if it weren’t. I sent a silent plea to the universe to let the turtle live long and prosper.

As though the turtle heard, it lazily opened its eyes and peered at us. A little lengthening of the neck – no exertions, no fuss. Then, determining that we were harmless souls, closed its eyes and went straight back to sleep. I cannot tell you what a scene like that does to one’s nerves. It calms and excites at the same time. In those quiet moments where brilliant life blends with peace coexistence, the soul expands. 

We spoke in reverent whispers about myths and fables that humans have come up with to capture the lure and aura of these gentle creatures.  Kurma Avatar (The way Lord Vishnu came to save Earth in the form of a turtle). I could understand it – they truly exude calm in a frenetic world. They made us saunterers stop, sit and take in the sunset, did they not?

“What should we name it?” I asked.

More hushed suggestions. “Amulee” – I said. “Aamai means turtle in Tamil, and this one is a very sweet one, so I like to call it Amulee.”

“Do you think it is a female?”

I confess turtle biology baffles me. So I threw my hands up. “Fine! Amul if male and Amulee if female. Happy?” I said smiling.

The turtle opened its eyes and craned its neck ever so slightly. I took it as a nod of approval, though it could possibly not have understood. Right? Sitting there though, I doubted it. Most creatures have shown themselves to be more brilliant than us – they learnt how to communicate us, while we did not do the same for other species. Apparently, cats only meow to communicate with humans – not amongst themselves. Dogs understand English and vernacular words to communicate with us. Dolphins too. These turtles have been around beach-goers all their lives, I would not be surprised at all.

Green Party

We sat there, and maybe it was the magic of seeing the turtle share the beach with us, but we saw some tiny streaks of apple green in the gorgeous sunset. Poets have written about it. I know L M Montgomery talks about apple green in the sunsets in her books – I thought they were a North Pole phenomenon. I have always felt a little off-kilter about the ways writers write about the brilliant streaks of color they see in eye colors and sunsets. But then, the daughter mentioned Green parties in their university – apparently, folks gather around at sunset and look for the streaks of green in the sunset.

This time, we did see it. Mild, and no darker than apple green, but still there. Amulee’s Green Party was a success.

The next morning, it had gone back into the ocean.

Winter Solstice Celebrations

The last week of the calendar year is one of my favorite times of the year. The bustle of the year somehow sparkles – even as plans are being drawn up for the new year, and the world keeps spinning. I am one of those nitwits who gets excited by the winter solstice– I actually stand outside and imagine myself on a tilting Earth and wave hello to the setting sun. I know. The children already told me – thank you!

“Hello Yule!” 

“Do you have to sound like a mule, mother?”

Why yes! I am glad you asked. There is a reason we ask for the Yule-tide spirit during Christmas. It is a pagan festival honoring the winter solstice.  Norse roots and origins indicate that this time of year was especially tough for those near the North Pole.

They bought into their homes what they could remember of green – hence the Christmas tree, the yule logs for warmth and for some weird reason, they also brought in goats – maybe to honor their gods – didn’t Thor have a weird fascination with them? Or maybe they just liked goat’s milk and didn’t fancy stepping out into the cold and dark to get some.

Dongzhi (冬至)

That’s the winter solstice in Mandarin. This one, like many symbolisms, linked back to the yin-yang symbol. The darkest days of the year – yin, can now move towards light – yang.

This is reason enough to tuck into some dumplings as celebrations, no?

Dark Mofo

The winter solstice in the Southern hemisphere, is of course, celebrated on June 20th when we are mooning about our side of the earth enjoying long days of sunshine. The Tasmanians, have a festival called the Dark Mofo in which they go for nudist swims as the sun rises – on the coldest day of the year for them.

Human-beings celebrate in many different ways- I can’t seem to be comprehend them all.

In any case, the skies are hugely rewarding this time of the year. The rain-filled clouds – what are they called? Nimbus clouds or the especially royal crown looking strato-nimbus clouds.

The stars on a clear night, or when the clouds are parting seem especially bright too. It is probably why Jesus’s birthday was chosen this close to the Winter Solstice. There is something about watching the cold sparkling stars above, and wondering about how hot and cold the universe really can be. 

The tiny sparkling lights of holiday decor in our neighborhood make night-time strolls delightful. Cold – but delightful. I once scared the bejesus out of some deer in the meadows as I belted a Christmas carol out into the wilderness. Sirius shone particularly bright that night.

“In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” — Albert Camus

Have AI do something like that and I’ll accept it has achieved human intelligence.

The Joys of Hygge & Fernweh

We have all felt the pull of the universe against the warmth of ourselves. At times, the expectations of the outer world seem to be in sync with our inner worlds, and at other times almost discordant. Like the tree whose branches wildly throw themselves into the air – without shape or form, nor any apparent laws of Physics – skewed right, skewed left, center of gravity tilted.

Wild, and yet ensconced safely behind a fence. 

Could that be the human spirit on some days? The pull of society vs solitude. The pull of adventure vs comfort. The pull of this vs that. Here Vs There. 

Here & There – By Thea Lu

I read this children’s book, Here & There, written by Thea Lu the other day that seemed to encapsulate all these feelings through two different characters who experienced and belonged to this wild Earth in their own contradictory ways bringing home the fact that both our domestic and wild spirits need a home within us. Or maybe that was the interpretation I came up with. Regardless, it addressed a certain yearning for Fernweh – a lure for distant lands – that the holidays seems to awaken in us. A contrast from the cozy comforts of the home and reading by the Christmas tree that the very same holidays beckon one towards.

The book compares and contrasts the lives of Dan and Aki. Dan owns a cafe in a seaside town. He stays there – always welcoming new friends and visitors into his cafe, but firmly rooted in his space. His perspective widening, and mind broadening with every interaction with a stranger. Never once leaving his place of belonging.

Aki, on the other hand, craves travel and adventure. His life is colorful – he meets many people who have become friends during his travels. He has seen volcanoes erupt in the oceans, made friends with migrating whales, and shared a drink with fellow travelers in sea-side cafes. 

It is a beautiful meditation of all the different ways in which we belong. How we can broaden our horizons whether we leave a place or spend all our lives in it. After all, perspective, imagination, empathy are all fantastic human capabilities.

In Praise of Mystery – By Ada Limon, Illustrated by Peter Sis

Another book that I read in the cozy light of the Christmas tree also evoked similar feelings. This book, In Praise of Mystery – by Ada Limon, Illustrated by Peter Sis is a beautiful book about the poem that left Earth in 2024 aboard NASA’s spacecraft, Europa Clipper. Europa is Jupiter’s second moon and is believed to be full of water, similar to our own. So, this probe is meant to investigate the possibility of life on Europa. 

Ada Limon is a poet laureate and it is her poem that is inscribed on Europa Clipper. The book is illustrated by an equally illustrious illustrator. Peter Sis – is a MacArthur Fellow, Hans Christian Anderson prize-winning etc etc.

How it will be read is another question altogether.

This isn’t the first time we have sent our presence out into the universe either. Voyager’s Golden Record contains as many snippets of life as could be managed on the capsule – images, songs, and greetings in 55 languages are on it. Whale song, folk songs from Bulgaria etc.

Hygge Vs Fernweh

The message and book, In Praise of Mystery, speaks to that human yearning to find life outside our own planet. We have been sending probes to see if there is life outside, but here, right here on this beautiful planet, we can spend so much more time appreciating and protecting what we have. Sitting by the twinkling Christmas tree lights, warmed by the hot cocoa that is essential on such occasions, I thought of the world in Europa. It could be thriving or desolate. Cold or warm. The thrill of that extraterrestrial adventure is all very nice, but I was happy to be in my little home by the tree, enjoying the warmths of winter –  Hygge

The human yearning for Hygge & Fernweh can both be there, can’t it?

A Break from Breaking News : Please!

A few months ago, I was discussing the concept of a column with an editor. She suggested ‘It’s Not Breaking News’ – seeing as that was the theme of the writing on my blog. I felt inordinately proud at that. I loved that my blog was perceived as such.

It got me thinking of all the things I looked forward to reading in newspapers as a child. My brother went for the Sports and Automobiles column, I went for the Humor and Science sections in The Hindu. It is why I still love the Open Page section of The Hindu and was so proud to have been published in it as an adult. Who said dreams did not come true?

I remember smiling at the Slice of Life column written by V Gangadhar every week. After all these decades, I may have forgotten the content of his columns, but I remember how it made me feel. Combined with the illustrations by R K Laxman, this was week-end magic – reminding us of the joys of human living.

“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

― Maya Angelou

Jane Austen

I read in a book of essays on Jane Austen’s works, a few years ago, that one of the reasons for her enduring popularity is not because love and affairs of the heart were a novelty, or because there was no other material to choose from, but because of the gentle reassurance of the warmth of humanity.

Which makes sense. Since it wasn’t as though the world was peaceful or even that her own world was idyllic. I think her choice of theme was powerful – she chose the best themes of humanity to write about. After all, she lived in a time of slavery, spice wars, economic upheaval, and before antibiotics came on the scene – which meant there must have been plenty of personal tragedy in her circles as well.

A Jane Austen Education

Incidentally , it is her 250th birthday today, and I find myself thinking fondly of her humorous characters and wondering whether a snippet of Emma or Sense & Sensibility is on the cards for viewing – even if only for 20 minutes. Let me try my luck with the family. 

P G Wodehouse

The same can be said about P G Wodehouse’s choice of theme. Young love, satire about economic classes, and gentle mockery of perceived classes among human-beings. He lived through the horrific 1st and 2nd World wars. He was interned in 1942, and taken to Germany, where he lost over 60 pounds and in his own words, ‘looked like something  a carrion crow had bought in ‘ – a scarecrow. He lived through the most horrific times. He also experienced personal tragedy after losing his step-daughter Leonora – a daughter he adored. 

Do Not Hate in the Plural

Any of these writers could have taken any of the less savory topics – poverty, slavery, war, crime, misery, hunger, disease, imperialism – name your pick. But they chose to focus on the light, on the rewarding, on the beautiful nature of the human spirit that looks for happiness and peace.

When Humor Jumped in Neptune’s Pool

As Stephen Fry said on P G Wodehouse:

He taught me something about good nature. It is enough to be benign, to be gentle, to be funny, to be kind.

– Stephen Fry on P G Wodehouse

Please! No Breaking News!

In some ways, I think I try to do the same on my own modest scale with my writing. When the news is relentless. When I receive Breaking News multiple times a day, I think I yearn to give myself a small dose of what is important, and what is worth working towards – finer qualities of humanity and their spirit, nature, humor, friendship, camaraderie, family, books. 

I wish we could embrace more of these, so that we can find a way to get properly outraged when something horrific happens. As such, it is a brutalizing cycle of normalizing outrage. When the shooting at Brown University became news, how can the leader of a free country come out and say, “Things happen.” ?

Fallout after Trump’s critical statement about Rob Reiner

https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/politics/2025/12/15/donald-trump-brown-university-shooting/87772785007/

Why are we not more affected by it? 

A voice in my brain answers logically: Because the desensitization is deep.  Because you cannot be angry and upset all the time. Because action means nothing. Because this. Because that. Because.

What is the best medicine?

Then I stop to pause and reflect. The warm qualities of humanity is the best antidote. It is the only thing that matters in the end isn’t it?

It is why 250 years later, we still relish a Jane Austen movie’s nth remake. It is why we still laugh at the absurdities of life as outlined by P G Wodehouse, Jerome K Jerome, Miss Read, R K Narayan, Gerald Durrell and stalwart authors who do the difficult job of finding light and keeping us hopeful through it all.

Breaking News is bleh. The lack of Breaking News is what we have to strive for.

“Be the reason someone smiles. Be the reason someone feels loved and believes in the goodness in people.”
― Roy T. Bennett, The Light in the Heart

So, my questions for you:

  • What is the source of reading that serves as the light in your life?
  • What is it that you look forward to rather than dread?

Do Skunks Eat Ducks?

A few years ago, an aunt asked me, “Don’t you get bored looking at the same trees and park everyday?” She looked genuinely concerned because she had heard my mother-in-law say, yet again,  that I was setting off on my walk. 

They could not imagine why I would take the children on walks, or if they weren’t in the mood, then set off by myself. 

I was genuinely shocked. Not because of the question but because nature is very rarely boring. It is full of adventure and mystery, not to mention humor, and joy. 

Take for instance the morning walk a few days ago for me. 

Hibernation would be a marvelous pursuit

Winters in California can be tricky – cold, foggy, misty, cloudy, cold (did I mention cold already? Well – the cold this week is worth mentioning twice, so I’ll leave it). 

I went reluctantly for a walk. See climatic conditions mentioned above for explanations. When I get up in the morning these days, I fervently wish I was born a bear. Hibernation would be a marvelous pursuit. The self-help channels and articles are all banging on about getting enough sleep, and yet society wants you to be up and about for long hours and at absurdly cold times too. Ridiculous!

That morning I moaned about being awake, and the husband gave me an amused look. I snapped petulantly, “What?! I have to be awake all the time once I get up – till I sleep again!” 

“Isn’t that true for all creatures who aren’t nocturnal?”, he said, and I apparently replied in gibberish. Semantics. The point is, I did not want to get up. I do not want to get up. I do not want to start my day in the cold. But I do – everyday the alarm seems to go off earlier and earlier. It could not have been the whole night gone, could it?! I just got warm and comfortable. The comforter took that long to trap body heat, the heater did not turn on, the frozen nose took awfully long to thaw. 

But human-beings are resilient if nothing else. So, I dragged myself out into the cold. On my morning walk, the fog was still lifting, and the cold made me look like Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer. Even the birds seemed to be quieter. No chirping, no loud squawking. 

Down in the riverbed, that I stopped to take a quick stroll before starting the day, life was slow too. I saw a great white egret with her little chick, some geese, some ducks, and a grey heron. All lethargic enough to match the atmosphere around them. 

What is that – a rat, mole, otter, weasel?

That’s when I saw the sleek quick movement of the water mole. The water must have been biting cold. The frost on nearby rooftops could confirm that much at least. Yet, the water rat or mole or weasel or otter (I honestly do not know) was sleek and fast. 

I was fascinated. I started walking to keep pace with it, and looked on amused as it kept away from the waiting blue heron. Smart.

That’s when I saw a duck family nearby. The duckling must’ve hatched late. For it was the only one its size in vicinity. The water rat was gaining on it, and I held my breath.  That’s when I caught the white streaks on its tail. Ahh – it must be a skunk. 

Do Skunks Eat Ducks?

Would I be witness to a tragedy that early in the morning? A creature’s got to eat, sure. But can’t it be less gruesome than watching a little duckling being pulled under water? 

I willed the duckling to fly away, but it seemed oblivious. After what seemed like an eternity it sprang to life and ran away from the skunk. Slapping its webbed feet rapidly on the water like a basilisk – those creatures the children were fascinated with in elementary school. 

I released a huge breath of air – I hadn’t realized I had held my breath in for that long. 

Who says there is no adventure and mystery in nature? 

There’s plenty of it. I will have to tell the aunt all about it. 

The water-skunk went on its way, the sun slowly started to peek its way through the misty morning, and I jogged my spirits up to get back home and start a day of work.

Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.

-Rachel Carson

The Magic Faraway Tree

I loved the Inside Out 2 movie – the one in which the newly minted teenager has a new range of emotions available to her, and the old ones either have a tough time acknowledging them or making space for them. In the movie, Nostalgia comes knocking the door too, and the other emotions all tell her that she’s got time. Nostalgia is for when you get older. 

Well, guess I have gotten older. December has become the time for nostalgia.

While younger, the Decembers seemed far and few between. But as I grew older, I noticed a familiar lament in my December posts – “Where did the year go?” Did it really go all that quickly? Every year, I asked the same – only I seem to be asking it more frequently. It is all very confusing. 

A time for nostalgia:

When I was around knee high, it was the time I waited to clamber up the Magic Faraway tree in my imagination. Winter vacations meant lots of winds, and rains thanks to the North East Monsoons in Nilgiris. This was the perfect excuse to imagine going to visit strange worlds everyday over the clouds, and far away. I am really excited to see that the movie about The Magic Faraway Tree is finally coming in Mar 2026. 

The Magic Faraway Tree | Official Teaser Trailer | Claire Foy, Andrew Garfield

I would love to see what they do with a generation of adults who all were enthralled with the stories, and are now trying to convince their children to try it out. But those of us who grew up loving the stories of Moonface, Silky, Saucepan Man and the many lands above the tree can relate to the term ‘life-changing’ being used for this series. I confess that when I gaze up redwood trees and tall giants,  I wonder about the lands above the clouds.

A time for resolutions:

We live in an era of social media. I don’t think there is any escaping that. I don’t know where we go from here. But what we thought of as spheres of influence etc are fluid, and not at all easy to understand. 

So, I thought about grand resolutions like ‘No social media’ etc, but I wanted to do something that wasn’t the equivalent of sticking my head in the sand and hoping the storm would blow away. 

It occurred to me while watching the trailer for The Magic Faraway Tree movie. It is a bold move to try to capture the magic of what a generation of adults felt as children in movie-form. After all, it was our generation that was enthralled with Enid Blyton’s Magic Faraway Tree. I know I have had to convince my children to read the books, because they had Harry Potter growing up. 

How easy is it to judge or critique someone? So instead this year, I am going to try and appreciate all that goes into making bold moves. The adults who grew up loving The Magic Faraway Tree will be the bulk of the movie-goers. Many of these adults would have navigated life for a few decades now – some world weary waiting to see if the world still can bring that touch of magic to them, some cynical to the point of wondering whether there is anything good left in this world, some still hopeful and loving – nurturing the soft wondrous parts of life in them. The movie has to kindle magic in all of them. That is a bold move.

What are you nostalgic about and what are your resolutions for the New Year?

Social Media Cringe Scales

Going… Going …

“What do you think I should put up today?” the son asked us one evening. The daughter was home for the Thanksgiving break too, and we were making more noise than was necessary while snacking and exchanging the news of the day. 

“How about this? Going …. Going …. “ I held up my phone, showing him some of my pictures of fall colors on the phone. When had he become this much taller than me? The beautiful fall colors glistened and sparkled, and I could feel my nerves dancing with the rays of the sun shining through them. 

“Amma! That’s – there’s no need to be all poetic and cringe.”

“What’s cringe about that? The fall colors are going…going… but not yet gone. Huh?! Get it? Not yet gone!” 

Scales of Cringe

He rolled his eyes. I swear his eyes roll more when his sister is around. I have statistical evidence. 

There are categories of social media posts apparently. They fall in scales of cringe, try-hards, to meh. One child who wished her father a happy birthday was in the try-hard category. I found that unfair. “Come on! So sweet of the child to wish her father. You know? That reminds me – where’s my post wishing me on my birthday huh?”

The pair of them exchanged looks that suggested I’d lost it, and giggled some more.

“So what if you have a few posts on the scale of 6-7?” I said, looking as smug as it was possible for me to look, while attempting the cool, nonchalant look.

“On my goodness! Did you just? I can’t – okay! That’s going to be my post. My mom just made a 6-7 joke!” he said clutching his stomach and laughing. 

My Mom!

I narrowed my eyes at the fellow. “There’s no need to say ‘my mom!’ in that tone of voice.”

He laughed some more, and the daughter ruffled his hair, looking proud.

“I am not sure I appreciate this your-mom thing being used as an insult.”

“I know your mom wouldn’t either!” the daughter said, cackling some more, and joining in.

I huffed and I puffed and drew myself to new heights. 

The daughter patted me patronizingly on the head, and said, “Now now Mother! There is no need to be all small and mighty!” 

I gave up. Newly minted high-schoolers and newly minted adults having ice creams with chocolate chips and melted brownies crushed up in them, cannot be expected to be sane. My mom would agree. 

The Monarchs of Butterflies

Heliotherms & Heliotropes

The sun was shining. The birds were chirping, the leaves were all showing off that they were as good as their east-coast-fall-color relatives. It was all marvelous. So off we went for a week-end walk. 

The husband tried his best to not roll his eyes as I stopped in several places to admire big, fluffy brown and black caterpillars on the trail. “All those butterflies!” I buzzed. “Such darling guardians of the sun, aren’t they?” 

“What now?”

“Butterflies are heliotherms – did you know that? They get their body heat from directly basking in the sun. And isn’t it such a beautiful word? Heliotherms! Heliotherms flitting to Heliotropes for nectar.”

“Are we going to watch them weave their cocoons or shall we head back?” said the husband. 

Monarchs of Caterpillars

I waved to folks in the neighborhood as we passed, the dogs wagged their tails, the cats gave us looks of live-and-let-live. It was all lovely. What I didn’t realize was that it was all about to get much lovelier. I stopped to chat with a friend.

“I am going to give you a gift – it is a milkweed plant!” she said. I couldn’t help smiling at that. 

“Well – I do love that gift!” I gushed,

“They are required for saving the monarch butterflies, you know?”, she said beaming, and getting that smile on her face that meant she was excited to show me something a biophile would appreciate. 

“Yes I remember reading about it a while ago when the numbers of monarch butterflies had dropped. They planted them all along the migration paths to revive their numbers.” 

Monarch Butterflies: Back from the Brink

“Want to see the caterpillars?” she asked me, giving me a look like Christmas had come early. 

“I just saw a few – big fat furry ones there!” I said pointing vaguely in the direction I’d come from. The husband had that look that said – “I’ve had quite enough of caterpillars for the day!”

 “Come and see these. These are the monarch butterfly’s caterpillars, and they are only found on the milkweed plant itself.”

Now, how could I resist? The husband squiggled away – wishing us a wonderful caterpillar viewing session.

I went into my friend’s garden and am I glad I did?! 

These caterpillars are striped beauties that make you want to sit and admire them all day. Light green, black and yellow, they were squirming and filling themselves on the milkweed plant. Their home looked beautiful in the November sun. Apparently, these caterpillars lived out their entire caterpillar-hood on the milkweed plants. 

A few years ago, I had written an article on the Monarch butterflies – their numbers had been dwindling and the state of California had revived them by growing milkweed plants everywhere along their migration route. I thought it was for the nectar – now, I know it was for the caterpillars to nest and grow a cocoon in too. 

Lepidoperist

When they say transformative like a butterfly, how many ways can it hold meaning? For there are the ones that become butterflies from the woolly variety. I now remember how my children as elementary schoolers loved talking about the caterpillars, cocoons, and butterflies.  The thick brown and black caterpillars produce butterflies too, but the monarch butterflies only come from the green and black striped beauties on milkweed plants. These caterpillars are really the monarchs of butterflies.

What fascinating things lepidopterists study. (One who studies butterflies and moths are called Lepidopterists)

Books: The Girl Who Drew Butterflies: How Maria Merian’s Art Changed Science – Joyce Sidman