The Golden Moments of Spring

I was walking on the beach one morning. One glorious morning. The waters were glittering in the morning sunlight like a million little diamonds had been sprinkled on the waters. Maybe it was the effect of the rose-colored glasses I was seeing the world through, or the fact that the world felt brighter and more colorful that day, but the beach was filled with … Gold? I scrubbed my eyes beneath my glasses and looked again. There was no fooling me. The sands sifting beneath my bare feet, and glistening with what looked like gold particles.

Fool’s gold?

It must have been. For if not, I am sure, there would have been quarries there, and not contented looking seagulls trying to bully smaller sanderlings out of the way. I admired the unruffled sanderlings – holding their own, outnumbered as they were by the aggressive seagulls. It was a pleasant sight.

Golden Hour

A few evenings later, I strolled during sunset drinking in the fresh green after the rains. Really, I have raved about this before so often, I feel like a bit of broken record myself – but spring in the Bay Area is the most wonderful time of the year. The hills are bursting with tiny yellow and purple flowers set against lush green grasses. Entire hillsides of it. Simply waving and swaying in the mild breezes of the season.

I sat upon a rock to take in the sight. There were deer grazing nearby, and I turned my serene senses towards them.

“To sit in the shade on a fine day, and look upon verdure, is the most perfect refreshment – Mansfield Park, Jane Austen

What’s this?

I was composing a pedantic piece for my blog on the tranquillity of the lives they lead – blah, blah, blah.. when they started to, I kid you not, fight. Fight! Like stallions in heat – on their hind legs, kicking each other. I started laughing, and sensitive as ever to human sounds, the deer audience noticed me. The drama in front of them was too much to resist, they turned back. The smaller one walked away, and taunted from a distance, to which the older one rose up again.

Golden Truths

In geese, I rarely stop to notice anymore. Aggressive as they are, they are always chasing each other off or splashing off. But, so often have I gazed upon deer on my walks. Always drawing from them beauty and grace. It was different seeing ..  was it a display of power, anger, annoyance, or just dispelling of nervous energy?

I would never know. Not until our human systems make headway into animal cognition and translation. Apparently, some of our big and beautiful AI models can now decipher whale sounds.

https://www.npr.org/2024/05/20/1198910024/ai-sperm-whales-communication-language

Really, nature knows how to entertain us almost endlessly – if we stop and watch. Sometimes, in slow waves, other times in passionate displays of spring time, and maybe in the future using the ultimate lure of humankind – through stories.

Sunrises and Sunsets: An Opacarophile’s Notes of Magic

Every time we go on vacation, I proclaim proudly the first night, “I am going to go for a sunrise walk in the morning. Do not look for me!”

It is old hat by now. The children and the husband exchange amused looks and say, “Sure! Of course!” Followed by a chortle of such mirth that it should offend me. But vacations and all that – I let it slide. You see? I am rather a slow starter in the mornings. The caffeine tries, the shower tries, the folks around me try. But it takes a good hour or so before the spirit can rise and shine and birds chirping can become song to my ears and all that.

This time though, I surprised everyone including myself.

I set off on my sunrise, sunset and starry strolls every day I was there. It was marvelous – one morning, I sat trying to discern all the hues and colors in the sunrise, the shapes of the clouds, the fast disappearing mists that were clinging not a moment ago, making way for the humid day ahead of us.

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I could hear my heart rise in song without emitting a single chirp – trying to keep in tune with the little palm warblers, and the mynahs reminding me of a silly rhyme we would chant as school children, giggling ourselves silly every time.

One for success

Two for a toy

Three for a boy (giggle, giggle)

Four for a girl (giggle, giggle)

Five for a letter (we were in a boarding school)

Six for something (can’t remember)

Seven for a secret (Secret Seven By Enid Blyton must’ve inspired that one!)

And on and on, it would go.

I smiled thinking of that rhyme – something I hadn’t chanted in three decades, and yet, it came to me that morning looking at the little birds hopping about the island. The brain really is marvelous. Scents, images, words, phrases can all evoke associative memory – it truly is powerful.

Taking in the slow way in which the island is drenched in its beauty, I walked back to our cozy lodgings, feeling very smug, and proclaiming that all those who missed the sunrise .. well, missed the sunrise.

“The sun will rise again tomorrow, Mother.” the children chorused looking gobsmacked that I had taken a sunrise stroll. 

I somehow managed a sunrise stroll every day that we were there. On the last day, the husband joined me, and the island, to show us how special that was, even greeted us with a rainbow by the Buddha statue overlooking the ocean.

We were quiet for sometime wondering how a simple play of light and moisture can produce something as beautiful as that. Even the birds seemed to have fallen silent. Then the birds chirped, and the husband chattered again. 

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An opacarophile is a lover of sunrises and sunsets

A solist is one who loves events of the sun (sunrise, sunset, eclipse) etc

A heliophile is who loves the sun

A photophile is a lover of light

I feel the importance of this quote – for both sunset and sunrises

“Never waste any amount of time doing anything important when there is a sunset outside that you should be sitting under.” – C Joybell.C

⚡️💨⛈Cloud Kitchens ⚡️💨⛈

We were walking at a time when everything around us was glowing in a golden hue. The sun was setting, highlighting  the clouds in the horizon from within or behind, giving them a glorious gloriole. The recent storm had news channels talking of our favorite term in recent times – atmospheric rivers

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The actual river was flowing with muddy waters from the recent rains, the trail was still strewn with branches and twigs after the recent battering of the storms, the deer that usually had more space to graze were standing glumly off to the side for their favorite haunts were water-logged. Or at least I thought they stood glumly: they looked contented and happy with the fresh grass, and each other for company.

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“Look at those clouds and the lighting from behind them!” I squealed.

“Oh please amma! You talk of nothing but countertops and cabinets these days!” said the son.

“I do not!” I said, mock-offended and a trifle sheepish. Well – the fellow was not entirely wrong.  It was true, I was becoming one of those bores who go on and on about cabinets.  I am trying to switch out the cabinets in our kitchen, and it has proved to be a task that had hidden depths to its complexity. Regardless – just then, I was talking about clouds and the sunset, and said so with a haughty sniff.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t think of how the hidden lighting would look under the cabinets.!” he said, and I laughed. I had not actually thought of it, but if the poor fellow thought his usually cloud-and-sunset-loving mother saw cabinets in clouds, I had scarred him indeed. Feeling suitably chastened, I promised to shelve all talk of cabinets for the walk. “Get it? Get it? Shelve talk of cabinets! Huh?”

He rolled his eyes, and though the clouds reminded me of the subtle grays and whites in certain countertops I had seen, I kept the opinion to myself, and we walked on chatting amiably of this-and-that.

Kitchens could wait, sunsets could not.