Category: Musings & Ramblings



This 2013, my year ends 7 hours later. Madrid has been home since November but in a few weeks, I should be flying back to Manila. When I tried to recall how the year went, I automatically searched through my blog archives to check what has kept me busy. So…… my life has been a blog series of sorts. Nice 😉 And complete with photos too! These are my memory aids, and they work.

 

 

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We “baked” under the sun here in Nacpan/Calitang near El Nido, Palawan.

 

 

Our family commenced the year 2013 with a trip to El Nido and Puerto Princesa, Palawan. All of 5 days basking in the sun with sands in between our toes. A pleasant detour was the day spent in the twin beaches of Nacpan and Calitang. In this photo, we felt we were the only tourists but for this couple of Caucasians by the beach.

 

 

Paete Church, one of many around Laguna de Bay.

Paete Church, one of many around Laguna de Bay.

 

 

Then friends based abroad came a-visiting and we decided to do a roadtrip around Laguna de Bay. From SLEX through Calamba through the coastal towns of Pila, Paete and Pakil, then heading home via the Manila-East Road. We never thought we could do all that in a day.

 

 

We conquered Mount Pinatubo!

We conquered Mount Pinatubo!

 

 

I’ve always wanted to trek to Mount Pinatubo while my knees and legs would allow me. My nieces and a couple of friends joined me. We didn’t trek the whole way, and you may call us cheats, but still, I can’t say it was easy.

 

 

The northernmost island province is a must-destination.  Trust me on this!

The northernmost island province is a must-destination. Trust me on this!

 

 

Aaaahhhh….. Batanes. The place is magical. I intend to go back. I’d love for my family to see this enchanting place and meet up with the very kind, welcoming locals. I’ve had some pretty amazing domestic travels early in the year, like striking off from a bucket list! Batanes ranks high up in that list and for good reasons.

 

 

Speedboating and island-hopping in Phuket and Ko Phi Phi

Speedboating and island-hopping in Phuket and Ko Phi Phi

 

 

And then Phuket happens. We didn’t plan on it, but the idea of speedboating and island-hopping in Thailand was simply too tempting. Images of James Bond sailing away on a speedboat and Leonardo di Carpio’s “The Beach” crossed our minds. We also enjoyed the luxury of a villa with a plunge pool while we were there. And this was just less than 2 weeks from our long- planned trip to Ulaan Bataar. A couple more off the bucket list!

 

 

RAW, unspoilt Mongolia

RAW, unspoilt Mongolia

 

 

By midyear, I felt I’m done traveling until my scheduled holiday by yearend in Madrid. But it’s June, and I joined some of my friends flying to Cagayan de Oro to celebrate a dear friend’s 60th. Sidetrips to Maria Cristina Falls, the Divine Mercy Shrine and the Monastery of Transfiguration in Bukidnon were soon arranged, and voila!

 

 

Monastery of Transfiguration in Malaybalay, Bukidnon

Monastery of Transfiguration in Malaybalay, Bukidnon

 

 

July-August till the first week of September found me in Sydney, Australia. Absolutely unplanned, but I needed to be there for my eldest sister and only surviving member of my immediate family to deal with her health travails. Thankfully, my sister beat the odds so it was a good celebration after 5 weeks of ordeal. God is truly good and merciful.

 

 

Sydney. Not exactly on travel mode.

Sydney. Not exactly on travel mode.

 

 

Before long, I’m back home. This time, eager to experience a local festival. The MassKara Festival in Bacolod was timely as kin based abroad arrived to join me in celebrating a milestone in my life. Six–oh! Soon after the MassKara frenzy, we were partying on a safari theme, and moved on to Seoul, Korea for an extended celebration. Phew!

 

 

MassKara Festival in Bacolod City

MassKara Festival in Bacolod City

In seoul, we feasted on Korean food like there was no tomorrow.

In seoul, we feasted on Korean food like there was no tomorrow.

 

 

And since November, I’ve called Madrid home. Certainly a break from tradition (and the rest of the family) to spend Christmas and New Year’s here in the midst of winter. It’s a great experience for me to hear Misa de Gallo — complete with singing of Christmas carols (in Spanish of course) in a country that christianized us and passed on many of its traditions. I have grown accustomed to lunch at 2pm and dinner at 9pm. No siestas for me. Yet. But Misa de Gallo at exactly midnight, Noche Buena at past 1 am till 3 am is a tad difficult. Many Madrileños celebrated till 5am. No wonder Christmas mornings in Spain are very quiet and peaceful. Everyone is still on bed!

 

 

Christmas In Madrid

Christmas In Madrid

 

 

A couple more things. Christmas here is more about BELENES. There are Nativity Scenes in churches, museums, palaces. The center of attention is the Child Jesus. Not Santa Claus or a Christmas Tree. And gift-giving? NOT on Christmas Day. Rather, it’s on the Feast of 3 Kings who introduced the idea of gift-giving. The kids have to wait. Feliz Navidad!

 

 

El Belen de Salzillo

El Belen de Salzillo

 


I’m a “waiting” expert. A “time-killing machine”. I can go many hours waiting in airports, bus terminals and train stations. And that was so way before the advent of internet and the many available gadgets. When I made friends with iPads, iPods, playstations, Wii etc., I discovered I can go many hours without saying a single word. Like when i stayed in Madrid for 10 weeks with an average of 1-2 hours of daily human interaction. No, I am NOT a geek. Nor a NERD. In fact, I can be extremely chatty to a point of annoyance. 😉

Humor Me:  While enjoying my music, one of my grandchildren asked why all the artists on my iPod are dead.  

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Humor Me: “On my 59th birthday, I got my best ever gift. When my godson asked his mom what he can buy as gift for me, he was told to get something he thinks I need or something I’d enjoy. He gifted me with a bottle of Vicks Vaporub.”

But WAITING in my experience is never wasted. I love to write. It doesn’t sound modest whenever I say “I’m a writer”. But that’s what I am. No attempt to glamorize that “writer bit” —- I only meant I write when I’m happy, sad, grieving, celebrating. I write from the heart, without need to use big words to impress. Just had this need to express myself. Can you imagine how annoying it could be if I expressed myself verbally each time, rather than using pen and paper (or iPad and fingers)?

Humor Me: One of those lazy afternoons when I couldn’t care how I looked, I fetched the grandkids and was rewarded with this very well-thought out, diplomatic for his age remark — “You look better with makeup”

Long before it was called blogging, I filled out way too many diaries. My mother would always gift me with nice diaries and stationery to write on. The habit came with being the youngest child whose 2 older sisters were already in college when I grew aware of my surroundings and started having crushes. Also while my hardworking parents were busy with their careers and business, and kept long hours. As a teen, I remember sleeping under my mother’s table while she busied herself cutting patterns while all the sewing and garter-binding machines were buzzing in factory precision. The noise never bothered me. I only needed a mat to lay out and I’d lie down like a shrimp and snore the after-school hours away. Maybe that explains why and how I can so easily will myself to “shut off” in a snap. It’s both good and bad ……… as ignoring things and sometimes people, come in handy for me. These days, they have a word for it. Therapy. While others shop (retail therapy), I “shut off”. A bench in a park overlooking a lake, armed with a cup of coffee, comes to mind.

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Humor Me: The time my eldest apo from OZ land arrived, she asked “Are you the mom of my cousins?” Flattered, I started “No. I’m actually ……..” But she cut me short and said so matter-of-factly “You must be the yaya then…..”

I think this trait was passed on to my grandchild who shared my bed all her nearly 16 summers. In her case though, she paints. Many times I observed how she grew frustrated over some things and then indulged in her art. Like me, she comes off relieved and cheerful after the “episode”. Different folks, Different strokes.

Humor Me: I was particularly proud of a pair of satin pants and black nylon blouse which set i bought in a store catering to young ladies. Thought I’d wear it for my breakfast date with the kids in a posh hotel. When the bell rang and I opened the door, one of them said….. “I thought you’re still in your pajamas”

 

But I have the advantage of many comic breaks in my past. My personal history counts more years and, more memories. Like channels in an old-style television set, I only needed to turn a knob to recall them. Come and laugh with me as I recall a few …….

 

Humor  Me: Once  i asked my apo where he’d take me when he is old enough to drive And he answered “Mercury Drug”. 

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Humor Me: One of my OZ apos asked me to wash his butt after a “session”. When his older sister saw us, she asked “Have you seen many little boys’ butts?” To which I answered “Yes, including your dad’s!” Touché !

20131014-212454.jpg Waiting. Shutting Off.

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I earlier planned to throw a big party but at the last minute decided against it. I’m NOT really into parties, anyway. Perhaps I should do that when I turn 65 instead. I would have more wrinkles then, and my double chin and jowl may be more pronounced. Or the big party can wait till I turn a full 70. Then, I’d give a really LONG speech. By that time, not too many would be willing to listen to an old hag so i’d make them suffer! All in good humor, folks. Honestly? I’m thankful — and proud — to turn 60. Forever 60 you say? Well, why not?

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At my age, I’m allowing more spontaneity, more randomness, more “irresponsibility” into my life. Like when we went on a roadtrip with kids with no hotel reservations. Or when I hopped on the next train in Atocha Station in Madrid just to go somewhere out of the capital. Or riding a horse, trekking 800 steps to an isolated Bhutanese monastery in 9 degrees celsius, or spelunking in Sagada with a guide who would have carried me if he could, rather than wait every time I stopped for oxygen breaks. Heck, I’m having fun!

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Yet I can’t help working on a travel bucket list. There are plenty of new places I long to visit, and just as many to revisit. And the list keeps getting longer. Maybe I need another lifetime to do all. Hopefully more trips with family and friends. Now, let’s hope those walking legs would hold 😉

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My Bucket List

Macchu Picchu + Iguassu
Santiago de Compostela+San Sebastian
Kenya, Tanzania, Botswana
Uganda (mountain gorillas?)
Finland (Aurora Borealis)
New Zealand

Myanmar
India
Luang Prabang, Laos
Hanoi and HaLong Bay

Budapest+Slovenia+Dubronik, Croatia
New York+Niagara
Tibet. Guilin. 3Gorges.
Canada
Galapagos
Iceland
Greenland

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No travel plans, really. I came for personal reasons and for my OZ family. Specifically for my older sister who fell ill. Last time I visited was back in 2004. Yes, a long time. I grew complacent as it was always THEM visiting me, rather than me visiting them.

 

 

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Gratitude is the memory of the heart.
(An afternoon in Mt. Annan Botanical Garden)

 

 

One overseas call and I dropped everything to secure that OZ visa and get on a flight to Sydney. Took a while and it felt like decades just waiting. Just when the visa was issued, the weekend flights were all fully booked…. except for one. I got the last seat on Qantas for a direct flight. Just in time to be around for the pre-operation medical procedures, the surgery and hospital stay, and another “decade” waiting for the pathology results. All of 4 weeks in Sydney and we finally heaved a collective sigh of relief.

 

 

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Lissa and Levy are 2 years apart. I was the “baby” in the family.

 

 

Three Sisters. Two Survivors. We terribly miss our middle sister — the talented one in the kitchen who baked breads, muffins, blueberry cheese cakes, strawberry tortes and the finest-tasting sans rival cakes and other pastries. She was only 37. Levy and I took turns at the hospital watching over her. It’s been 30 years since. All 3 of us must have inherited the dreaded C disease from Mama who passed on at age 55. Papa joined Mama in 1991, some 22 years back. Levy and I — 9 years apart — survived. But we were continents apart, and Ate (older sister) Levy has yet to fully embrace this internet technology. [Once she called me and forgot to turn off her mobile. Her bill could have covered nearly half of my airfare!) 🙂

 

 

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Mama with Ate Levy and Me in Baguio City back in the 60’s.

 

 

 

Family and friends prayed and prayed real hard. We lived from day to day until Week 4 when we received the good news that Ate Levy beat the odds. To amuse ourselves and keep us off the worries, we made family trips here and there. Ate Levy’s children took turns taking leaves from work to drive us around. I only managed ONE DAY with college friends who came by and took me off on a day out to Berrima — a wonderful break from family duties. (Thank you Lin and MA) My other friends based here and around do understand I simply wanted to be around my sister and family. Others I decidedly didn’t get in contact with as I realized it’s not a good time for “first meet-ups” (my apologies, my TravelBlogger friends). It’s just ME —- eager to make up for lost time with my OZ family. Besides, I was just too busy keeping the worries at bay. 😦

 

 

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The “kids” posing in front of the ancestral house, with their grandfather’s namesign behind. Once I heard my grandnephew Xion say … “We’re cousins. We should love each other.” Makes me proud these babies are being raised as good kids as these nephews and nieces are.

 

 

But winter’s over. And that’s true literally and figuratively. At the beginning of spring and on my fifth week in Sydney, we made so many unplanned day trips. Our hearts overflowed with joy and gratitude. The first trip — from the surgeon’s clinic to the first church we passed — was most significant. Like we remembered every single step towards the church smiling ear to ear, not even missing each melodious note from street buskers nor the aroma of food delicacies from a neighborhood Filipino store. God in His mercy blessed us with a good sense of humour to survive adversities, a grateful heart for Him and the many prayer warriors, a keen sense of family and unity, and above all, a strong faith that our “winter” will soon be over.

 

 

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Rookie took many of these shots in Mt. Annan Botanical Garden. Flowers abloom to welcome spring. In our hearts, it was all time-spring.

 

 

In our trying times, my sister and I nearly forgot the children have grown. THEY took over. And I’m mighty proud of them all. I have no doubt our grandchildren will all grow up as responsible adults. Like their moms and dads. Knowing that, I don’t mind growing old to welcome more “springs”…….

 

 

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Here’s an amateur’s video of “Levy Beating The Odds”

http://youtu.be/ASHK8WmpOd8

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MARAMING SALAMAT SA INYONG LAHAT. Thank you so much for all the prayers.


Today’s one afternoon that’s all ours. No worries. No rush. No serious discussion. We’ve had one too many in the preceding 4 weeks. The gardens and ponds are waiting for us. Today. The empty benches beckon. The ground is carpeted with blooms, signalling the onset of spring. We peeled ourselves off the thicker jackets and got ready for a “walk in the park”.

 

 

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We have passed this Park many times on our way to my nephew’s house. All of 416 hectares between Camden and Campbelltown. Because it is too near, there was no interest to drop in in this botanical garden claimed to be the largest in Australia! But today is a special day. My bags are packed, nearly all clothes laundered clean and stuffed into a suitcase, ready for my imminent departure. I’m down to my last pair of pants and jacket, along with my pair of boots that will all stay here and wait for my next visit. We all wanted to take a leisurely stroll with the kids, even spend some time in the playground, hike up a small hill, sit by the bench near the pond. Act like a family 😉

 

 

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It would be nice to have a LONG walk here next time. Or maybe, given its size, biking is the better option. I haven’t biked in decades but I’m confident I can still do this. I should plan my next visit here real well. Maybe bring a picnic lunch. There are picnic tables and benches by the pond. Yes, that should make for a lovely afternoon.

 

 

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What a relaxing afternoon for us all. A prelude to last-minute repacking and a long flight home. Say hello to Spring. Bye, Winter.

 

 


 

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I was on my 10th week in Madrid. Yes, the blues getting in the way this early in the morning. Coffee in hand, I’d find myself looking out the window. As I allowed homesickness to creep in, various morning activities are framed behind the glass windows. You could almost hear the beans grinding, smell the coffee brewing, silvers clinking to make those bocadillos (sandwiches), and feel those hurried daddy hugs as toddlers see them off to the door.

 

But this one’s different. In one of those window frames, I find this cat. Across the space between us, we looked at each other. He must have been busy watching others beating the “morning rush” from his window. As I was. It’s interesting how many of them do nearly the same thing at the same time every morn.

 

By the time I boarded the train for another one of those day trips, I was still thinking of the kitty…..when I spotted something unusual on the train floor. Lying asleep was this young man’s best friend. Both buddies in dreamland. They looked tired. They were still doing their REM when I passed them to disembark.

 

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What a sweet life? These animals live without the complications humans have. No budgets to keep. No compulsion to inventory for future needs. They hunt or get only for their daily needs. If they do store for a rainy day, it is for their own consumption. Not for business. Unlike humans who love to enrich themselves. I wonder. Do they feel envy? Is there a rich dog or a poor cat? Or would those adjectives apply only to their masters? And if there is a rich dog, does he flaunt his wealth the way some humans do?

 

In Alcala de Henares, I spent a whole morning munching through a whole bocadillo, nipping on thin manchego shavings, sipping my cafe con leche while watching the storks busily minding their nests. The whole episode gave me a stiff neck, looking up much of the time. But my snooping exposed me to a valuable lesson in life.

 

 

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The storks here in Alcala de Henares, a university town just a few minutes train ride from Madrid, is a whole community. Their nests differ only in location (some high up atop spires, others in lower arched windows, still others in between steel bars of a crane) but never much in terms of size.
Almost uniform in height and width, the nestlings look uncomplaining and comfortable. Mom and Dad storks fly in and out, presumably with something to feed their young. Some simply standing by, looking like they’re waiting for the first nestling to attempt a first flight. As they wait, they don’t seem to mind much else. How can they stay perched on a ledge for hours on end?

 

 

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Patience. Many of us struggle to tame our temper. I am not sure about this. Nor do I have the proper academic background to draw any conclusions. But obviously, humans can pick up a few lessons on temper management here.

This is my entry to the Weekly Photo Challenge: Unique.


 

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There was a time when I’d compare travel packages to southeast Asian neighbors against domestic destinations. Because there were promo packages to Hongkong, Macau, Taipei, Bangkok and Vietnam, it was agonizing to choose to go instead to El Nido, Batanes or elsewhere you can fly to within the country.

 

 

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No, I don’t feel the need to have my passport stamped. Nor do I feel “shortchanged” spending more for a local trip. I’m simply a sucker for COLD WEATHER. So with my family. We love getting all “wrapped up” for a few days, layering up and enjoying no-sweat days.

 

 

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When we do travel around the Philippines, we marvel at the local scenery. Our landscapes and seascapes are so beautiful that some are wont to exclaim “Parang Hindi Pilipinas” (It’s like it’s NOT the Philippines). This is said in the same breadth as “Only in the Philippines” whenever one finds something utterly WRONG. I’m curious how and why such is the attitude. Why can’t something so beautiful belong to the Philippines? Why is it that something so bad is accepted to be particular to this country?

 

 

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Next time you travel, don’t hesitate to spend on and in your own country. Who knows? A pleasant surprise may be waiting for you 🙂

 

A wise traveler never despises his own country. – Carlo Goldoni

 


I missed submitting a post on the theme “A Picture Is Worth 1,000 Words” but here’s another writing prompt and I intend not to pass up this chance.

 

 

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“WHEN HELLO FEELS LIKE GOODBYE”

 

Oh yes. Ever the optimist, ever the romantic, it’s HELLO in my mind. The kind that feels like “goodbye”. A hug so tight it feels like the last. As when one says goodbye. For now. For sometime. Forever.

 

I hate goodbyes. But hellos can bring forth the same sensation. When a HUG feels so much better, so much more intimate than a KISS. When a HUG lasts far longer than any kiss would and could. Wrapped in each other’s arms, who cares who’s looking? Who cares? When a hug seems to last from hello to goodbye.

 

Family? Friends? Lovers? A hug conveys the message of longing. Of not-too-long-ago or nearly-a-lifetime loneliness. When was the last time you missed someone so terribly? How did it feel meeting them again? As you press closer and feel each other’s heartbeats, the years of absence are wiped away. As each moment of longing is peeled off and exposed, the warmth of each embrace permeates the bodies with an intensity that composes another fond memory.

 

“Takes Your Breath Away”

 

Literally and figuratively. As intense as it gets, the tight hugs take your breath away. The passion burns through the loneliness, worries, anxieties. Neither going nor coming. Neither here nor there. YOU JUST HAVE YOUR MOMENT.

 

Joy. Relief. Acceptance. Forgiveness. All positive thoughts warming through sleepless nights filled with pain, worries and at times anger. Such is the potent force of a simple hug. No, I don’t mean the “social hug” one almost automatically accords another where one is obliged to do slightly more than a handshake. Not that “obligatory hug”. I mean the hug hug — that which is more appropriately termed as an “embrace”. The kind that attaches a powerful emotion to it. The kind that leaves you feeling fulfilled, other times, drained. It’s hard to fake a hug. Ironically, there is no eye contact nor face-to-face encounters to check for those nervous ticks and not-too-honest smiles. More often than not, we close our eyes shut the tighter the embrace goes. We rely simply on our feelings. If we’re not “in harmony”, one would feel awkward and wish to let go. If we don’t “feel it”, we sense the seconds tick by and feel overwhelmed. My theory is the pretense seeps out as the hug lingers. Yet, many honest hugs demand a second and third hugs. Like we can’t have enough of each other.

 

 

When I think of reunions, the images conjured up in my mind include open arms, welcoming hugs, lingering embraces. Especially at a certain age when you feel some may not make it to the next reunion. Morbid thoughts? Maybe. When news reach us of such losses or casualties, we invariably think of that last embrace and simultaneously wish we hugged them tighter or longer. We may not remember the conversation, but yes, we do recall that first hug after a long, long time. And more so, that last hug as we bid each other goodbye. Hello and Goodbye. Packed in a single embrace. Wrapped in thoughts of love, acceptance, relief and forgiveness. J.O.Y. Two hearts beating as one, in an almost monastic rhythm. Broken only by interludes of remembrances punctuated by laughter and nostalgic sorrows. Handshakes just won’t do. Too formal. Too cold. Too businesslike. Too transactional?

 

 

Hugs are in an altogether different league. To this day, I still remember how it felt like hugging the babies in the family. They’re no babies now. Very well into their teens, in fact. But I remember how when they couldn’t express themselves as much as they can now, and would rather express their joy, their thanks, their gratitude, their longing in those unforgettable hugs. Or when they demanded the same whenever they felt insecure, threatened or simply too happy to want to share it. A hug reassures. A hug reaffirms. A hug has no substitute. Ohhhh….. I need a hug NOW! 😉

 

 

As I write this, I had difficulty expressing myself with 1,000 words. But enough said, methinks. It’s a great discipline. And the photo and topic’s such a superb prompt. As you read this, I suggest you check out the writing challenge. See what prompts you. Check out how the simple photo moves you. I’m sure we share something in common, while at the same time learn from each other.

 

 

This is my response to the Weekly Photo Challenge: 1,000 Words, Take 2.

 


Whenever I find Nat Geo-type photos, I turn green with envy. But pragmatic me insists I should be content with my Point & Shoot Cam. Many times too, I shoot with my trusty iPhone 4S. The light P&S wins over the desired DLSR, always. Non-pro that I am, I should be alright with these “light” gadgets.

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Many are enchanted with sunrise and sunset photos. I think twilight photos are lovelier, but that’s a matter of opinion. I am also fascinated with cloud formations.

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Perhaps that explains why a rainy, cloudy day or an overcast sky would never deter me from seeking adventures. I was in these places when a strong typhoon hit: Taiwan, Boracay, Palawan. Yet I had the most amazing time. Yes, even when we were “marooned” in Boracay at the height of “Sendong”.

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Who doesn’t want to see a rainbow? Cast against mighty falls, over a mountain cliff, or across vineyards?

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No tripods for me. The scenes can do with a little shake. I just pause, snap and go!

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Here’s a link to more musings and ramblings posted in my other blogsite. Thought subject suits this site as well, so I’m sharing this with you…….

Growing Old and Grateful.