Paradise in Ashes/Forever Never/Book Bits..

Another bit of my work in progress….85C6D39E-ACF0-41C7-B6F6-0EC61DD17101

Words and images copyright CherylKP 2019

Paradise in Ashes
In the Mists of Dreams
M’na’s heart thudded inside her chest as she made her way through the forest. How could she have known Amhain would be deceived so cruelly and have his brother stolen from his arms? Her empty stomach jumped and rolled as though it might climb up her throat. She trembled as raw anger screamed louder than her fears, the culmination of all the horrors they had suffered in so short a time. She could not, would not, be defeated this way.

“A’rtine!” she called out hoarsely, the smoke and tears clogging her throat. The Mother of Domhan took a deep breath, the stark image of her infant son as a helpless captive of the Dark god looming in her mind. She steeled herslef to try again. Hot blood quickened her pulse, her breaths came in short gasps, and the fire in her soul fueled her resolve. She yelled again, this time sending her voice into the madness with a fury. “Artine, you damnable soul! Where are you, Ar’tine?” M’na knew he was responsible for the living nightmare they were in, that he beguiled her son and took her newborn child from the trusting child. How that poor boy must be suffering with guilt.

“You can’t worry about that now,” she mumbled to herself. M’na turned in circles, her mind racing as she scanned the smoke filled landscape for signs of life. She decided she would have to entice him out of his dark corner-but how? Though her mind was muddied with fear and her body wracked with pain, she knew her child’s life might depend on her outwitting the most shadowed soul in the Realm. M’na closed her eyes, took several slow, deep breaths and steadied her voice, focusing on sounding not just reasonable, but appealing.

“Artine, I..I know you are here. This is your handiwork, and I also know you would not want to miss a chance to..” She swallowed the bile working its way into her throat, along with any pride she had left. “You must be eager to see how successful your efforts were. I confess your creation reflects your supreme power.” M’na waited, hands pressed to her pounding temples, for any sign of his presence; but only the roaring fires that ravaged her homeland echoed back. Thunder rolled as wild jags of lightening cracked across the smoke filled skies. M’na was perched on the precipice of desperation, with her newborn child in danger and their perfect world crumbling around them.

“Why do you hide if you are not ashamed?” M’na tried a new tack with the vengeful son of Eternity. “Surely you aren’t afraid of a helpless female like me? Why do you hide in the shadows when you could torture me with your words?” M’na, always the clever one, kept the pretense up, driven by fear and necessity, taunting the dark one into the blazing light of his own making. Light was her only advantage, being the one place he was vulnerable.

“Son of Mac! I demand that you show yourself and answer to me!” She waited. A deathly silence descended like a blanket across the madness, enveloping her. She knew with every moment that passed her newborn could be taking his last breath and she grew impatient. Fear gave way to outrage as she bellowed, “Damn you, Ar’tine! What have you done with my SON?!”

Her world responded with awed silence, its Mother in peril, and waited for her next move. Her soft jaw went rigid, her arms hung limply at her sides, and her fists clenched and unclenched. She was finished being soft, easy, and loving. “Return him to me..now!.” She waited. Did she hear a muffled whimper? Oh, dear Mother, could that be Dochais? M’na’s heart caught in her throat, but now more ever she knew she had to be stronger than fear. She had to be stronger than the heart of darkness.

“He is of no use to you, and not even a boy yet. He’s..he’s so small…” M’na cupped her hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. She wouldn’t weep before him, she couldn’t sound weak, and refused to beg, knowing he would only hunger for more pain. “What danger is an infant to you?” She lied, knowing more than anyone else how much power the infant was born with, knew the power he held within his soul, and understood the hope that the Realm had with his birth on Domhan.

She held back the tears, refusing to be vulnerable before the bitter god, unwilling to quench his thirst for suffering. M’na hung her head, the weight of fear and sorrow pressing down on her heart and soul, and wept silently. In those quiet moments she heard it, at first nothing but a soft rustling, like the gentle flutter of leaves blowing across a dirt path. She cocked her head to the side, straining to hear more, and wondered if she was losing her mind. Long moments slid by and she was about to call again when the sound returned, coming from somewhere above. She peered up into the darkness, mesmerized by the glowing embers that glimmered as they drifted slowly to the ground around her, the sound floating down with them. Something about it all made her stomach turn. M’na covered her eyes, shielding them from the ash and ember as she gazed up into the unknown.

There was something vaguely familiar about this place and this particular tree, although the entire forest was turning to ash so quickly she would have become easily lost. The tree, the seat of the hissing sound, seemed to be calling to her from some distant place. Its skin glistened in the light of the fires that blazed around them and M’na’s mind groped for the memory. Its bark was scorched and faded, with bits flaking off and striking her upturned face. She didn’t try to deflect them, feeling they were somehow purging her soul.

As she squinted into the dim, gray light she could make out a dark form that moved slowly down and around and down and around.. It shimmered in the pale light as it circled the tree trunk, winding closer and closer to the ground. The Mother of Domhan gasped as the dawning of what glistened in the darkness reached her numbed brain. She gaped in horror as the flame and fury of A’rtine’s madness was reflected back at her from the slick skin of the largest, darkest serpent she had ever seen. Nothing like it existed on Domhan, and she had seen every living creature that lived on her world. M’na stumbled back a few steps, her body subconsciously telling her to run while her mind forced her to stifle the scream that longed to escape from her lips. The serpent stretched downward, its body as long as the Tree of Creation was tall, and coiled around it so that the bare branches seemed like arms reaching to the heavens for salvation. M’na knew where they were now, but nothing in the place even remotely resembled her memory of the peaceful Garden where she first tasted the fruit of life, where her body had been awakened and she had returned so often for solace. What had happened to the beautiful tree that gave them all such precious gifts?

“What?” Hissed the glistening shadow, “No kisses to smother my face? Is your Mother’s love only for those who slid from within your womb?” A thick black knot unfurled from around the lowest branch of the tree and curled back towards M’na to rest on the end of the branch. The head of the serpent was magnificently, perfectly horrible, as only the god of darkness could have created. The head had two smaller knots on it that she prayed would not open, but it seemed her prayers were going up in flames along with her world. The serpent opened those knots to reveal eyes as black as a starless sky and yet they seemed to tug at her soul like grasping fingers. If only they would have remained so. When the serpent spoke again, its eyes glowed red like the heart of the flame, piercing her soul as though forged from its own fire. It’s slit of a mouth opened and a barbed gray tongue slid forward, nearly touching her face, flicking right in front of her eyes. M’na trembled, her body wanting to fail her.

“This is your world, Mother,” a small voice whispered. M’na averted her eyes to the ground where a single white bloom remained, partly covered in ash but brilliant as the moon in the sky. ‘He has no power here,’ the pure white blossom whispered as a burning ember singed its face, silencing her forever.

The serpent’s tongue made a clicking sound when it spoke, something which annoyed the Mother of Domhan, and was possibly the best thing for her in that moment.

“I..click…have decided…click…I rather like the reptiles of Inion’s creation..click, click.” The tongue instantly withdrew as did the voice of the serpent who continued to lie on the branch, staring at M’na with eyes gleeming. When the god spoke again, his voice boomed above the blaze and crashing destruction, filling the forest with his presence.

M’na trembled uncontrollably, her legs beginning to fail her, as bright red blood flowed in rivulets down the inside of her thighs. The childbirth, the flight into the forest to hide her children, battling the beast with Fireann…all would have buried a lesser human; but she had to finish this and show A’rtine he could not win. She wiped the blood from her thigh and held her hand out to the serpent as she struggled to regain control of her body and not lose her mind.

“Here! Is this what you want? I’ll give you a taste of my blood if it will appease your appetite.” Laughter rolled through the forest around her.

“Perhaps later,” the voice thundered. “But first, would you care for a piece of fruit?” A rustling movement from the branch returned M’na’s attention to the serpent. A thunderous thud filled the air as the back end of its body swatted a withered seed from the dying branch where it lay. The seed, so familiar and yet a mere ghost of what it once hosted, tumbled to the ground. The sound echoed through the trees and thundered in M’na’s head as it rolled over the ground and onto her foot. The weight of the small seed was so immense that she screamed in pain.

“Alas,” hissed the voice. “it would appear..click..that the fruit has all been picked from the tree. You creation lusting humans have sucked the very life from your willing host.” The serpent lifted its body and thumped the tree again, shaking the forest floor as debris fell like rain around them. M’na clung to sanity by a mere thread, her rage building inside.

“What have you done with Dochais? I told you long ago that I would never hate you, and I will never be as you are, no matter what you do to us or…take from me.”

“But you already are, my dear. You sought to kill my beloved As’me, even as you pretended to wish her to live again.”

His words struck M’na in the chest. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, you didn’t know? That trio of Light pushers in the Realm-your god and goddesses-convinced her to sacrifice herself just to save your friends. Yes. Even as the unworthy female, Eagna, screamed to give my daughter new life as her own child, the soul of my As’me conspired with Inion to change the plan, to deceive me!! No longer will we have the reunion we had been promised, never will we be reunited. She was innocent. She longs to please those in the Realm and they are my enemy. There is no love for me there but from As’me. Now she has conspired with them and so has betrayed me as well. And you call them, ‘Mother’. If I suffer, then we all suffer, Mother of Domhan, for still I do not have the love of my creation-my own Daughter, As’me!” He cried out in desperation. He cried..

M’na sensed a shift in his energy, his essence softened slightly as he spoke painfully of the past. “If only you had remained as you did the day you shielded me from Inion on that night so long ago. Championing the dark god that Eternity forgot. If only you had kept your promise. If only Love were truly there for one such as me…”

M’na opened her mouth to speak, her true heart’s desire to console, plead, reassure, and love…anything to reach the dark reflection of Eternity; but A’rtine was mired in his misery.

“No! I have been lied to enough! Now hear me, Daughter of Deception. I must forever live without my creation, without love. And now it is your turn to share my fate. The infant is gone. You will never see him again. And soon, I will be rid of your first born as well.”

M’na needed more time. She had to stall him and reach Amhain before A’rtine kept his vow.

Show no fear, M’na,’ her inner voice urged. ‘He mustn’t sense fear in you.’

“You are right, A’rtine. We all failed you. I failed in my promise to you, made so long ago now. But I never forgot it. All that has happened is my fault, and not anyone else. I thought I was helping, protecting Domhan, but I made a mistake. Just give Dochais to me and I will leave him with his Father. Then I will go with you. I will do all that I can to make this up to you. Together..we can bring As’me back.” Silence. Did that mean he was considering her offer? In her uncertainty she plodded onward, tangling the threads of deception like a noose around her own neck. “I want to see your world, what you created. A’rtine, I would do anything for..”

The serpent rose from its perch and struck at M’na viciously, its fangs slicing the air within a breath of her cheek, sending her stumbling back and onto the ground with a thud. She coughed through a cloud of black ash that rose around her face but never stopped glaring at her attacker who was now nose to nose with her. Anyone watching the scene would have thought them similar in ferocity. The serpent’s tongue flicked at its prey and M’na refused to flinch when it touched her skin.

“You would do anything to save your sons,” A’rtine hissed vehemently. “This is not about your love for me, M’na. No one in the Realm or on your world loves me.” The serpent’s eyes glowed like embers and flashed with every word its master spoke. If the god was as unlovable as he claimed, he did nothing in that moment to change the situation. “But I don’t need your love. I just need the power over you. I need to see you as empty as I am now.”

M’na’s right hand bled where it pressed into the jagged edge of a broken branch, a severed limb knocked brutally from the Tree of Creation by Damanta’s fury. Her fingers slowly wrapped around the rough wood, her grip so tight that her knuckles turned white. With eyes locked on those of the serpent, she rose slowly, moving only those muscles necessary, yet graceful as ever.

‘She is so lovely’, thought the Dark One, recalling how she tempted him from the first time he watched her through the glistening mists over his lake of sorrows on Domhan Eile. She once moved across her world with breathtaking grace, powerfully beautiful yet inexplicably delicate. The serpent’s body uncoiled from its perch and loosed its grip on the tree, never breaking eye contact with M’na, completely mesmerized by her gentle brown eyes.

The pitiable creature never saw the branch in her hand, never noticed the slight smirk playing at the corners of her mouth, and had no time to recoil as she effectively brought the limb forcefully down on its head. It fell to the ground hard, casting the Essence of Artine out of its body, leaving the god momentarily confused. M’na gasped, trying to catch her breath and recover. After a few seconds she heard a crackling sound, the air turn cold and wet, and she knew it was time to flee the Garden, hoping he would have no power over her once she left it behind. Her mind urged her onward as she struggled to find that familiar place of retreat when something flew over her head. M’na’s heart skipped several beats, fearing the worst.

“He has no power over you anywhere!” the agitated voice startled M’na. When she turned back for a quick look, a huge white owl dove at the serpent, her sharp talons flexed, and dug them into its eyes, putting out the flame of life within. M’na found the strength to keep running and did not look back again, knowing the goddess mother was with her. As she passed beneath the broken, fading arch that once marked the perfection of Creation’s Garden, her mother’s voice carried over the terrifying din of the forest. “Conceal yourself from him, daughter! While you still have time!”

Conceal myself? M’na’s mind raced with her feet, but her head was pounding each time a foot hit the ground. The sky above exploded with real thunder, heralding the storm of all storms. Streaks of wild lightening spat across the black canopy. With only her family in mind she raced towards an unknown end. All that existed in those moments were the sounds..the panting, the thumping of foot to ground, her heart beat, the heavy breaths..conceal myself.

“You cannot hide from me.” The voice seemed inside her head though she could feel hot breath on her neck as suddenly racing at her side was the wolf. It was the same wolf who had taken her child- it had to be! Where was Dochais now? The wolf had nothing in its mouth but a thick, red tongue.

M’na held out hope her infant was safe, while her thoughts turned to her firstborn son and beloved Fireann. She feared for her companion, for how could he hold off the fiery beast for so long by himself? Though she pulled a few paces ahead, the breath of the wolf was hot against her legs, its hunger enveloping her. It snarled and drooled, tempted by the smell of blood on her skin. Ahead of her on the path was a fallen tree, blazing from the kiss of the beast.

‘I can’t stop,’ she thought frantically. ‘Not now.’ A cold gust of air hit M’na in the face, her body vibrating with unexpected energy, the burst that she needed to push on. She leapt!

Her mind was clear and strong, her body suddenly without pain as she bounded over the blazing obstacle, as though borne on the wind. She heard a painful yelp as the wolf brazenly leapt into the wall of burning wood behind her, only to be slammed to the ground. Feeling victorious, M’na kept running, her body more agile, fresh hope rising from her heart. She blinked, unbelieving, as the clearing to their home came into plain view. The Mother of Domhan breathed more easily as she ran on, the wind whipping through her hair, her senses heightened. Suddenly she could see it all clearly-home, or what remained of home. Yes! There was someone there; but the beast was, thankfully, gone. She slowed as she drew closer, almost able to make out details in the failing light.

As she slowed to a halt, her head seemed to split in two. Then he was inside it, his mind mingled with hers. How could he molest her now, when she was so close to her joy? Cruelly, like a sharpened axe, his words sliced into her heart and echoed throughout the hallows of her soul.

“Finally returned to your beloved Fireann. Alas, my dear, he was not equally matched for a fight with my pet. Such a pity you will never lie with him again.” M’na’s heart crumbled in her chest as A’rtine taunted. “You know you cannot hide from me, any more than the moon can hide from the night.”

M’na forced herself to look at the clearing where there were not one, but two figures. Her soul wailed to see her beloved Fireann lying in the wet ashes-broken, blood stained and still as stone. His firstborn son knelt over him, gently stroking his Father’s hair and lovingly rubbing his lifeless chest. Young Amhain’s head was bent, his body shaking in the darkest of sorrows. The weight crushed M’na’s heart, stealing her breath, and the light was snuffed as she fell into the arms of darkness…

to be continued….

 

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Affirmative, Captain #SoCS

We need to get this straight. I will affirm here and now that I have felt less than inspired in the last week. I’m working on the novel-still…maybe forever..but really loving the progress. It is just not something one can easily do at the end of a work day or week, popping from pragmatic, ordered thinking into fanatstical dreaming reality.

Affirmative, Captain.

I mean I usually can, but lately the world has just felt so…heavy. I affirm I am not a fan of old Man Winter. And I love men in general. Just not sadistsic, self indulgent, harsh and cold troublemaking men. Just why Mother Nature has him in her circle is beyond me. But then, taste in friends is always quite subjective isn’t it? It takes all kinds of people to make a world. If we were all alike we would either be hugely bored or constantly fighting ourselves.

 

I affirm that life is wearying at times, and when I was younger I held older people in the highest regard, seeking their wisdom, understanding and encouragement. For the most part I am exposed to situations in which older people are viewed and treated as outdated, stupid or at best uninformed, and gulity of some heinous crime of destruction that most of them are completely unaware. Perhaps the crime is just being older than 30. I thank God each day my children are not this way.

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When I was in the Christian church growing up, we were taught to always put yourself in others’ shoes, to empathize and express compassion. There was a humbleness in being a child of God. I suppose there has always been a double edged sword aspect to religion..any of them, just as there is duality of spirit within each of us. I just know that I would rather stand quietly alone, with my hand in His, than stand with a mob of angry, accusatory, self righteous finger pointers whose main goal is to be the best, the biggest and the chosen. Since when did being a Christian become a popularity contest?

I affirm that God’s greatest gifts exist all around us, that peace can be found in the tiniest miracle of life, that entertainment is free in Mother Nature if you just take a moment to breathe and to feel her presence. Soul healing does not exist in a book or a prayer. It is in your own hands, the ones given to you in this life. Perhaps we should stop shouting, ”God, save us!”

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Maybe it’s time to whisper, “God help us to save ourselves.” We have to stop making our own messes then blaming everyone else for them,  which includes..

No, honey, the devil did not make you do it. We all have a choice and the light and dark exists in every one of us.

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affirm that when I love someone it is forever, even if you choose to cast me aside. Anyone who has ever found a place in my heart will remain there forever, and my family means more to me than anything. If they hurt, I hurt. When they are in pain, it is mine. When they are happy, my world is perfect. I know no other way.

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I love the friends I have made here, in this magical realm of blogging, where like minds can meet and feel less alone, share ideas and laughs. We all do such a wonderful job of encouraging, lifting one another up and being there. Thank you to any and all who have done this for me. And if you feel like a beer check out Dan’s frozen corner of the world. Now, he has some Winter tales…

I affirm that I am ready for Spring, budding flowers, buzzing insects and balmy breezes. Meanwhile, we can always dream..in fact I must insist that you dream with me, or we might not see her face again!

 

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What do you see when you step outside?

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Thanks to Linda Hill and her #SoCS prompt, ‘affirm’.

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She Howled!

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Last night’s Super Blood Wolf moon was magnificent. I got the best shots I could without putting up the tripod.

She glowed, she blushed, her face was flushed,

In frigid dark my work was rushed.

Yet here she is. If you only remember one thing, let it be this:

Never piss off the Lunar Goddess”.

She will scowl and howl,

infest your soul, her touch as cold

as night’s unsympathetic hand

waves over the land,

the spell is cast.

 

CKP words and photos/copyright 2019

 

 

 

 

 

Art Matters/#SoCS

When I saw the SoCS JusJoJan prompt for today I was nearly giddy with excitement. Finally something easy. But, wait, what kind of art to post about.

You see, I am kind of an art ADHD, in that I am not committed to one thing. I am sort of an artsy Jane-of-All-Trades and perhaps Master-of-None. I love creating but am constantly moving from project to project. It isn’t that I get bored. I just feel maybe I should move on or that time is wasting. I haven’t figured out yet what this semi-neurosis stems from but will keep you posted should I work it out. Maybe it will come to me in a dream. Many of my dilemmas are worked out during dreams.

Meanwhile, what to choose…so difficult! Since I am currently working as feverishly as I can on my Dawn of the Dream novel I think I’ll post a snippet. And maybe a photo or two of projects. I hope you enjoy them.

No matter what, I hope you find your own artistic outlet. Don’t even try to say it to me. Everyone has an artistic vein. It just takes something special to pull it out of us sometimes. Just ask anyone who has done a Cork and Canvas class. 😉

Okay, from the journals of my mind wanderings which will hopefully cohese into a novel. Someday….

from Dawn of the Dream…

Inside the Sorceress’s hut, the Hunter and Ella were not thinking of sleep. It was awkward, so long since either had known passion; and Ella tentatively worked at conversation. “Eolas, do you think Saol is comfortable in the cave, without..” Eolas put his finger to her lips and pulled her close to him.

“There is no need to worry about Saol. She is well cared for. Now, there is only us and we have so little time.” The Hunter took a deep breath, as though inflating his courage. The smell of lavender wafted across the room like a breeze. In times past this would have given him pause for sorrow; but in that moment, he felt comforted. It was as though Eagna was reassuring him.

‘Live, my love. Show our daughter what love can be.’

Eolas wasn’t sure exactly what the journey would bring; but he knew in that moment, for the first time since his world crumbled, he felt an almost overwhelming desire to love again. Ella pulled his hand from her mouth and slid it down to her breast. “I know we have both been here before, but I feel so…” Eolas silenced her again, but this time with his lips. There were no more words as they recalled the fire and desire of physical union, making the most of the moments they had to share. Neither worried for the lost sleep or when the sun would rise-only that it rose on them lying together…..

To be continued..

A bit of sizzle for your Saturday. And hop over to the bar. Our buddy Dan is back on his feet and having a beer!

Here are a few more of my happy distractions…

Tap lightly on an image to see the caption. Happy #Free48 everyone! Be your creative, artistic self. Oh, and if you haven’t already, try to catch The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel on Netflix. It’s fantastic!

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Neverending Story/Photography/Music/Movies

This is from one of my favorite movies since my boys were young. I can’t even recall how many times I have seen The Neverending Story, a touching, imaginative film from the 80’s.

Beyond the main theme which guides the film-that we dream our world into existence and when we stop believing in our ability to dream and imagine, our world is in danger of disappearing-there are a dozen sub-themes such as self worth, loyalty, trust, vision, standing for something and fighting the forces of darkness.

In the clip above, our young hero Atreyu, who is tasked with saving the world from the rapidly encroaching Nothing, is approaching the portal where he can ask an important question. Many have tried to pass through the Sphinxes Gate,  but none possessed the confidence to pass through and were killed when the power of the Sphinxes was released after seeing into their souls.

It is one of the best moments of the film, although there are many.  Simple in terms of CG and special effects, the movie is still magical. It speaks of courage, friendship and loyalty, tenacity, hope and defiance in the face of almost certain defeat.  It teaches the message that the only thing which truly destroys us is giving up.

When we took a hike last weekend, I was so excited to be able to actually see Into the naked woods, with the trees undressed and showing their basic character-no frills.  We were close to the end of our four hour walk when we came upon these nearly twin giant Chestnut Oaks.  As I looked to the tops of them at the sky peeking between their reaching branches, I was immediately reminded of this scene in The Neverending Story.

 

Maybe you just had to be there….

After this gate, Atreyu must pass through the Magic Mirror Gate which was said to be the hardest of all to accomplish, for one must look into the mirror and see their true self without succumbing to madness and horror. It is in this moment that a stark realization happens for two of the movie’s prime characters.

Most people think they know themselves well,  but if we look very closely, sometimes what is revealed is not all that we thought or that we would wish of ourselves.  I like to look at my beautiful children and hopefully see a bright reflection of my best self within their eyes.

If you haven’t seen this movie at some point you should.  And if you have a child, do bring them along….

Our lives are all entwined as we walk the path of this Neverending Story call life.

For Ande, my own “Atreyu” and Barrett, “Bastion” .  Never keep your feet on the ground!!

A Good Day/#poetry #photography

Sunshine…

 

On my shoulders…

in my eyes….

 

 

Peering, peeking…

 

 

Quietly sneaking

                                                            across the sky…

 

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Hours pass as, hardly speaking, we pursue our quest

and duly blessed, find the treasure we were

seeking.

 

 

Our souls are quenched as nature flows around, beneath and above…

 

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“Where two or more of you are gathered in my name, there is a church.”

 

 

Cross over the bridge

                                         join the choir

dance with joy

and be baptized.

 

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Passing through the cathedral towers,

thankful for those languid hours

 

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Emancipation, realization, appreciation, purification,

bring salvation.

And a mighty fine dinner at home…

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I hope you enjoyed our day, courtesy of Sweetwater Creek State Park.

Once Upon a Time in Paradise

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It’s sad to think it has been nearly four years now since we made the move back from Costa Rica. Since that time we have planned and been unable to revisit our second home on two separate occasions, both due to natural disasters.

In the past few days I have been going through photo files and reminiscing about our very special experiences there. I loved the photography opportunities almost as much as the people and all the unique places we were able to visit.

As I explore more files I will share more of our time there since many of my new friends here didn’t know me back in 2012 when I first began this blog as a way to share our lives in the beautiful country of Pura Vida!

Once upon a time in Costa Rica, we visited a spice farm named Villa Vanilla Spice Farm. As it happens, this tour was one of the first we took on our original journey to Costa Rica, long before we made the move. Once we lived there I had the opportunity to revisit the farm with my best friend when she came to visit us.

The farm grows orchids, which include the vanilla plant, which is actually an orchid. They also grow various bromiliads, cacao trees, carambola (star fruit), peppercorn plants and ceylon cinnamon trees.  Ceylon Cinnamon    is known as true cinnamon and is the variety you need for real cinnamon  health benefits for blood pressure and blood sugar control. The best part of the tour is learning how the owners and workers grow, harvest and prepare these natural plants for consumption. Tasting was fun too. Near the end of the tour, there is a treehouse with a magnificent view where the tour ends with chocoalate and cinnamon specialty coffees, vanilla cookies and a very special mandarin lime cheesecake. Heaven!

Take a walk with me and I’ll share a few photos with you.

 

And at the end, with the heat finally taking hold, we climb to the patio of the “treehouse” for a cool breeze, tasty treats and a breathtaking view. If you make it to the  Manuel Antonio/Quepos area, this tour is one of the traditional ones but well worth the time and sweating.

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I could sit there all day……and you can when you live there. 😉💕