No Dearth of Colors

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No Dearth of Colors.. it’s like the barren nature of the land is compensated for by the colors. This one is an end of the day scene, where the camels get a sip before they head back home or retire for the night in the mela camp itself .
— via Instagram https://ift.tt/2N9GfYb

Sommerfuglen

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While searching for a quote to go along with this picture, I stumbled upon a poem by Hans Andersen. Sommerfuglen, written in Danish in 1861, goes really well with my picture.

The #Times2Travel theme is about continuing exploration even after the travel. This picture I clicked a few weeks ago has led to multiple discoveries.

This exotic flower is the Crimson Passion Flower, passiflora vitifolia, is a native of South & Central America. I sighted it in Kotagiri though, in South India. 

I usually rely on my Facebook & Instagram network to identify flowers & plants I click. It worked like a charm this time too. And I found yet another person who knows her flora. Incidentally, AI & machine learning powered apps failed in identifying this one.

Finally, the discovery of The Butterfly – loving this one & one to mull over for a long time.


The Butterfly

by
Hans Christian Andersen

Here was once a butterfly who wished for a bride, and, as may be supposed, he wanted to choose a very pretty one from among the flowers. He glanced, with a very critical eye, at all the flower-beds, and found that the flowers were seated quietly and demurely on their stalks, just as maidens should sit before they are engaged; but there was a great number of them, and it appeared as if his search would become very wearisome.

The butterfly did not like to take too much trouble, so he flew off on a visit to the daisies. The French call this flower “Marguerite,” and they say that the little daisy can prophesy. Lovers pluck off the leaves, and as they pluck each leaf, they ask a question about their lovers; thus: “Does he or she love me?—Ardently? Distractedly? Very much? A little? Not at all?” and so on. Every one speaks these words in his own language. The butterfly came also to Marguerite to inquire, but he did not pluck off her leaves; he pressed a kiss on each of them, for he thought there was always more to be done by kindness.

“Darling Marguerite daisy,” he said to her, “you are the wisest woman of all the flowers. Pray tell me which of the flowers I shall choose for my wife. Which will be my bride? When I know, I will fly directly to her, and propose.”

But Marguerite did not answer him; she was offended that he should call her a woman when she was only a girl; and there is a great difference. He asked her a second time, and then a third; but she remained dumb, and answered not a word. Then he would wait no longer, but flew away, to commence his wooing at once.

It was in the early spring, when the crocus and the snowdrop were in full bloom. “They are very pretty,” thought the butterfly; “charming little lasses; but they are rather formal.” Then, as the young lads often do, he looked out for the elder girls. He next flew to the anemones; these were rather sour to his taste. The violet, a little too sentimental. The lime-blossoms, too small, and besides, there was such a large family of them. The apple-blossoms, though they looked like roses, bloomed to-day, but might fall off to-morrow, with the first wind that blew; and he thought that a marriage with one of them might last too short a time.

The pea-blossom pleased him most of all; she was white and red, graceful and slender, and belonged to those domestic maidens who have a pretty appearance, and can yet be useful in the kitchen. He was just about to make her an offer, when, close by the maiden, he saw a pod, with a withered flower hanging at the end.

“Who is that?” he asked. “That is my sister,” replied the pea-blossom. “Oh, indeed; and you will be like her some day,” said he; and he flew away directly, for he felt quite shocked. A honeysuckle hung forth from the hedge, in full bloom; but there were so many girls like her, with long faces and sallow complexions. No; he did not like her. But which one did he like?

Spring went by, and summer drew towards its close; autumn came; but he had not decided. The flowers now appeared in their most gorgeous robes, but all in vain; they had not the fresh, fragrant air of youth. For the heart asks for fragrance, even when it is no longer young; and there is very little of that to be found in the dahlias or the dry chrysanthemums; therefore the butterfly turned to the mint on the ground. You know, this plant has no blossom; but it is sweetness all over,—full of fragrance from head to foot, with the scent of a flower in every leaf.

“I will take her,” said the butterfly; and he made her an offer. But the mint stood silent and stiff, as she listened to him. At last she said,—

“Friendship, if you please; nothing more. I am old, and you are old, but we may live for each other just the same; as to marrying—no; don’t let us appear ridiculous at our age.”

And so it happened that the butterfly got no wife at all. He had been too long choosing, which is always a bad plan. And the butterfly became what is called an old bachelor.

It was late in the autumn, with rainy and cloudy weather. The cold wind blew over the bowed backs of the willows, so that they creaked again. It was not the weather for flying about in summer clothes; but fortunately the butterfly was not out in it. He had got a shelter by chance. It was in a room heated by a stove, and as warm as summer. He could exist here, he said, well enough.

“But it is not enough merely to exist,” said he, “I need freedom, sunshine, and a little flower for a companion.”

Then he flew against the window-pane, and was seen and admired by those in the room, who caught him, and stuck him on a pin, in a box of curiosities. They could not do more for him.

“Now I am perched on a stalk, like the flowers,” said the butterfly. “It is not very pleasant, certainly; I should imagine it is something like being married; for here I am stuck fast.” And with this thought he consoled himself a little.

“That seems very poor consolation,” said one of the plants in the room, that grew in a pot. “Ah,” thought the butterfly, “one can’t very well trust these plants in pots; they have too much to do with mankind.”


Star Of Paris

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Star Of Paris – Tour Eiffel

Fuji X-T2 at 18mm (XF 18-55F2.8-4 R LM OIS)
f/22 at 1/1250sec, ISO 400

 

What’s With #Times2Travel?

#Times2Travel

I have been using the #Times2Travel hashtag while posting my travel pictures for a long while now. Friends still ask me what it means. So, here goes a quick explanation.

#Times2Travel represents 2x Travel.

  • First time, is when I actually travel,
  • Second time, is when I nostalgically re-live the experience while researching & sharing pictures with friends

There are four aspects to my travel hashtag #Times2Travel.

While Traveling, Travel!
Typically, I stay away from social media & picture posting when traveling.  This allows me to stay focused on soaking in the experience & be with my fellow travelers when there. This also gives me the time to click pictures at leisure .. the way I want it.

Research At Leisure
I get around to post processing pictures (mostly shot in RAW) many weeks or months after the travel. This way, I get to research & learn more about my subject or location. Sometimes the learning is also friend sourced on the networks. Anyone in my friends circle who is more familiar with the subject or location, generously share what they already know. I’ve learnt a lot via this route.

Post Processing Is Refreshing
The process of research & post processing – I find quite soothing & refreshing. When I’m having a tough day – processing a picture is equivalent to 60 deep breaths. I have some downtime, I’d rather research my pictures than getting lost in the rabbit hole that the Internet is.

You’ve Been Informed
There have been multiple instances where I’ve been mistaken to be traveling at the time of posting photographs. My #Times2Travel hashtag is now seen as a sign of past travels .. and there are fewer responses to my post asking to catch up in far away foreign land.

You can check out my #Times2Travel hash-tagged pictures at both Instagram & Facebook.