Ometepe Island rises magnificently out of the sweet sea. Its two volcanoes jut out of the lake and can be seen for miles. What an impressive sight!
Arriving and departing from our island, one must take an hour’s ferry ride. It’s always an adventure, especially when the lake is choppy.
What does the sweet sea mean to me? Fish, fishermen, birds, and an occasional fishing cat sustain their lives from La Mar Dulce. Even House Hunter’s International was impressed with our sweet sea when filming Ron fishing.
What do we do for fun on the sweet sea? We kayak daily, and once we followed a huge floating island as it drifted toward the mainland.
The sweet sea means tranquility, peace, and glorious sunsets from our front porch.
Goodnight, my beautiful sweet sea. Until tomorrow.
“Bursts of gold on lavender melting into saffron. It’s the time of day when the sky looks like it has been spray-painted by a graffiti artist.” ― Mia Kirshner, I Live Here
The Golden Hour, where dusk or dawn is an illusion, for it is neither day or night.
Where golden hues link day and night and the sky is littered with tiny silver stars bathed in lavender puffs.
A dichotomy, where one cannot exist without the other, yet they cannot exist at the same time.
The Golden Hour on my enormous lake. I LIVE here.
Feel free to experience the Golden Hour through other WordPress bloggers’ photographs.
This week’s photo challenge is “The World Through Your Eyes”. A good photograph conveys the subject at the moment of capture through light, composition, angle, and imagination.
Have you ever wanted to preserve a beautiful sunset and save it for a rainy day or bottle all the beauty so others can see the world through your eyes?
I’ve learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow. I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he or she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights. ~ Maya Angelou
Sitting on my favorite beach at Playa Gigante, Nicaragua, while sipping a rum, through the miracle of photography I canned the sunset. Here’s to savoring the sunset! If you are experiencing a rainy day in your part of the world, I hope you enjoy my canned sunset because no matter how bad it seems today, life goes on, and it will be better tomorrow.
As for the lost luggage and tangled Christmas tree lights…well… you’re going to have to figure those things out for yourself. lol
Come to the edge.
We might fall.
Come to the edge.
It’s too high!
COME TO THE EDGE!
And they came,
and we pushed,
And they flew.
Flying back and forth from Nicaragua to the states, I enter the great beyond of space where boundaries disappear…where there is no ‘us’ or ‘them’. I am mesmerized..teased into seeing beyond my small world of routines and schedules that control and ease my fears of the unknown…the great beyond.
Bathed in the rays of the setting sun high above the clouds, I reassure myself, ” I am capable. I lack experience in this situation, yet I can trust myself to do the right thing.” I am learning to embrace the beyond.
At first, the clouds look impenetrable. But, as I move forward to a new destination, I glimpse patches of earth, lush green fields, crazy quilts of tiny houses, and bright blue pools of water. The new zone eases my fears. I am reassured and comforted. The sun of experience and knowledge rises, parting the clouds, showing me the path to take. I am learning to embrace beyond.
I replace the fear of the unknown with curiosity. There is magic in this sunrise. I see the mists of Avalon, the ruins of Atlantis, the tall ship silently sailing through the clouds. I am learning to embrace the beyond.
The dark night of my soul bursts forth, clarity envelops me. I am reassured and comforted, for I have jumped…and I fly. I embrace the beyond.
I must admit that I am a bit possessive about the view from our front doors on Ometepe Island, Nicaragua. When our double doors swing open early in the morning, we encounter unique and wondrous sights throughout the day. What is mine, is yours as I share our wondrous views from morning to night. Enjoy!
The Che Ferry chugs past our front doors early in the morning.
El Ferry is the umbilical cord of the island, transporting people, materials, and vehicles back and forth.
During the rainy season, we are treated to rainbows.
Sometimes, whole islands float by our front doors. This is called a gamolote. It is about the size of a football field.
A variety of birds search for food near sunset along our shoreline.
The sunset plays and dances with the clouds on the mainland.
A sunburst of sunset.
The Che makes its last trip to the mainland for the day.
Will there be a green flash tonight?
The moon sets over the lake in the wee hours of the morning.
But, wait there is more! Wait until you see our view from our back door.
Active volcano Concepcion peeks through the trees behind our garden.
As we close the doors, and snuggle under our mosquito net to dream of tomorrow’s sights, I close with “Good Night Moon” over volcano Concepcion.
I am unbelievably homesick! Not for the states, but for my family and home in Nicaragua. I had to return to the states for three weeks. UGH! In a period of two weeks I’ve endured a bureaucratic nightmare of paperwork, cold and snow in my shorts and flip-flops, hospitals and nursing home visits with elderly parents, an ingrown toenail, packing and moving my mother and her husband to Florida, the Penn State scandal on every TV station, a bad haircut, and skin so dry and scaly that I look like an alligator.
To end on a positive note, I only have one more week in the states, my mother is packed and ready to go, her husband will be released from the hospital with doctor’s approval to fly to Florida, the Steelers won tonight’s football game (I could listen to it in English for a change), I shopped at Wal-Mart, drank good wine, ate pierogies, slept under two quilts, saw the stunning maples and oaks change colors, and had wondrous deep mother-daughter conversations. Life is good, no matter where I hang my hammock…..but…I’m still homesick!
Enjoy my homesickness in color slideshow. Just looking at these photos keeps me sane. I’m tapping my emerald flip-flops together…there’s no place like home…there’s no place like home.
Paddling around the corner of our small inlet, we discovered the city of angels. Hundreds of Cattle Egrets, Cormorants, and Great-Tailed Grackles gathered in two trees along the shore to usher in the puesta del sol. It reminded me of the movie, The City of Angels, where the fallen angels clustered every evening to greet the sunset.
In observing their winter ritual, there appeared to be a hierarchy of the species of birds. The Cattle Egrets nested together in the middle of the trees. The Cormorants perched on the thickest branches among the Cattle Egrets and the Great-Tailed Grackles segregated themselves from the mass of Cattle Egrets by perching in the tops of the trees. It was kind of like lunchtime in a southern high school after forced integration.
The chattering was incessant. Fights broke out for the best positions. Feathers and bird droppings dusted the trees, resembling a freak snowstorm in the tropics. Late comers circled the area and honed in on a branch, only to be shoved off by dozens of flapping wings. Then, the late comers would renew their flight patterns, circle several times, and try another less populated spot.Chaos reigned!
Puesta del Sol
Yet, when the sun slowly drifted toward the horizon, an eerie silence engulfed the crowd of onlookers. We spun the kayak to the west to see why the squawking and chattering halted suddenly. In awe of the spectacular display, we knew one thing for sure. The City of Angels had the best seats in La Paloma. We can’t wait to see what gifts tomorrow’s sunset brings to the City of Angels.