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| Out birding with my good friend Binoy. We cruise for hours along the backwater canals.... |
Now replete, I am still thinking that it is almost impossible to get across the real experience of being in India, as there is so much more happening than just a visual feast. You have to feel the soft, balmy breezes lightly brushing your skin in the cool of dawn, sway along with the rustling palm fronds to a gentle rhythm, dodging the odd coconut dropping like a brick from high up in the tree make a huge plopping splash in the water, as straight as an Olympic diver. Drift out onto the water hyacinth-filled lapping lake to hear the distant chanting from the Hindu temples interrupted by the raucous laughter of iridescent turquoise kingfishers. Feel the intense midday sun from which there is no escape except a refreshing shower. Best of all is a special feeling I only get when I am there - that this is spiritually where I feel internally most at peace, where I feel spirituality in the very air, surrounded and protected by soft, gentle people who seem to take everything in their stride with an enviable dignity that invites immediate respect, yet with a sense of humour as free as a child's. Somehow here I can accept with more grace the cycle of life, the loss of loved ones and our own inevitable fate. Watch the colours of sunset as they turn from yellows into oranges and burnt golds, into the reds onward through the spectrum through deep magenta until, about half an hour after sunset, the sky has turned into a deep violet and the water steely indigo. Some photos and some journals - hopefully they speak louder than words.......
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Dawn is misty, still and cool, though the birds are already awake and the fishermen already on the water
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| From yellow through orange and red....... |
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| ...........and into violet and purple |
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One of my more noisy neighbours - a
ring-necked parakeet |
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| The forest glows emerald green, yellow and lime after the deluge |
I got to experience the monsoon rain. It starts quite gently, as a few refreshing droplets, but quickly escalates into a downpour like no other, like buckets of water being emptied from above. This is accompanied by a deafening pouring noise, then swiftly made worse by the simultaneous pourings and drummings from numerous roofs and gutters, forming instant lakes and marooning me in my bungalow within minutes. But it's still warm and it's not at all uncomfortable. Then, the clouds clear and the forest seems to glow in its greenness - colours are vivid and luxuriant, the air fresher and cleaner. Parrots squawk with delight overhead as they feast on the last of the year's mangoes high on the tops os the trees, whilst bright green barbets utter shrill shrieks which penetrate the undergrowth. Everything here in Kerala is about bright, lurid colour, from the ladies' saris, to the temples and colours of people's houses and the heaps of bright in-your-face powders found in the market place so I am in neon heaven!
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When it rains, it pours...............
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Two of my favourite bamboo trees on the farm.....
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| Most people know of my encounter with this chap...... |
Finally just a couple more typical pages from my journals.....
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| The yellow trumpet bushes are in full bloom just by my bungalow |
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| The tiniest cows in the world - Vechoor cows - the head came out a bit large! I can vouch for the yummy home made yogurt they provide me with every breakfast...plus a little treasure which Anya gave me with love and I will always keep.... |
