Posts Tagged ‘ love ’

“scenes so lovely must have been gazed upon by angels in their flight” ~David Livingstone

The Breathtaking Iguazú Falls: Connecting Argentina and Brazil

Situated in the Iguazú National Park, between Argentina and Brazil, is one of the most visited and truly stunning places in nature, maybe even the world: Iguazú Falls.  Iguazú Falls is the kind of place you can go to if you are looking to truly escape from reality.  It’s a place where you can visually see the miracle of Mother Nature.

As the legend goes, there was once a great, ferocious snake that lived in the river. In order to calm the snake, the aborigines would sacrifice a woman every year. One year when a brave man rescued the woman and escaped with her down the river, the great snake became so enraged that he split the river thus forming the waterfalls and separating the man and woman.

It is those waterfalls that you see today. In the guarani language Iguazú means “great waters” but you’ll probably agree “great” doesn’t do this area justice.

There is a visitors’ center, walking trails, a train and more. There are two basic paths: one that leads down a footbridge to overlook the falls and the other that leads to the base of the falls. With over 270 falls forming a half moon there is no shortage of stunning beauty. But one of the most amazing sights is up the river further to the largest of the falls, the Devil’s throat.

Iguazú Falls is a must see for any traveler.

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The Devil’s Pool

Local legend: The cool waters of the Babinda Boulders habour many local aboriginal legends and stories.

On first glance the small town of Babinda, south of Cairns, may to be nothing more than a sugar mill, pub and a few houses. If you look a bit deeper into the area, you will discover it contains some of the region’s most special treasures.

While naturally traquil and beautiful, local aboriginal legend paints a more tragic picture of this special place.

The story goes like this: A long time ago, the Yidinji tribe were the sole occupants of the Babinda Valley.  The isolation created by the surrounding hills and jungle made visitors rare.  However, there came a time when a wandering tribe entered the lush green valley and was made welcome by the Yidinji people, who were in a state of celebration.  It seems an elder of the Yidinji tribe named Waroonoo was about to marry the beautiful Oolana.  The marriage had been arranged to combine the knowledge and wisdom of Waroonoo with the youth and beauty of Oolana.

The wedding went ahead as planned, but the following day it became obvious that something was wrong.  Oolana had disappeared, as had Dyga, a handsome young member of the visiting tribe.  A search party comprising both tribes searched the area for the missing lovers.  It was not long before they were found camping by a stream running through Churichillam, now known as Mount Bartle Frere.

After a furious struggle Dyga was captured, but not Oolana. 

Overcome with emotion, she threw herself into the stream.  From then on, the previously peaceful waters erupted into swirling torrents of white water as the ground burst open, spewing forth huge boulders to mark the place of the terrible happenings.  Aboriginal legend says the spirit of Oolana remains in Devil’s Pool to this very day, calling to any young single male visitors to the area who may go to the mysterious waters.

 

“Believe Me, If All Those Endearing Young Charms…”

“BELIEVE me, if all those endearing young charms, Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms, Live fairy-gifts fading away, Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art, Let thy loveliness fade as it will, And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart Would entwine itself verdantly still. 

It is not while beauty and youth are thine own, And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear, That the fervor and faith of a soul may be known, To which time will but make thee more dear! No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets, But as truly loves on to the close, As the sunflower turns on her god when he setsThe same look which she turned when he rose!” 

~ Thomas Moore ~

Crimson Angel; Sunshine Dance

 
As sunlight filters through the bright vermillion curtains, the walls glimmer in the summer light.  I see the sun through the curtains beaming like a firefly set high in the cerulean sky.  The rays spread to the deep burgundy floor, which shimmers in the sun.  My toes capture the warmth, which floods steadily through my body like humidity. My bed, entranced by daylight’s rays, seems to smile at my wardrobe, as a drowsy sunbather might do on a temperate day out of the sun.  Minute particles of dust waft in and out of view like dancing, glittery fairies, very much alive for their daytime parties.  Photographs on the wall, though some cracked, many a tie caught me reminiscing over times now lost, though memories staying fresh incessantly, never decaying.  
 
They, too, seem at ease basking in the majestic sun’s beam.

“…far beneath the bitter snows, lies the seed that with the sun’s love, in the spring becomes the rose…”

I don’t remember a lot of things; usually I cannot help but be clutched by the whittling hands of life.  Sometimes when I sit perfectly still and trick myself into a soft slumber, my dreams swiftly manage to escort me away from my weary life to places where the memories that I can never grasp are born.  In my dreams I may visit a lush though over growing garden, deep in the crevices of May.  The amber sun bores heartily on my back as I explore the garden. I lean over the harlequin grass to move the messy thorns with such care not to harm myself, I spy an object of such beauty that not even the garden’s excitements could not compare. As a larger quantity of thorn-ridden branches fall clumsily to the grass, something amidst the tiny alcove where the thorns were sparkles.

Such an object would be found being sculpted by angels in the depths of heaven; it’s a rose.
 
The rose shimmers as I reach out to caress one of the seemingly everlasting rose petals.  To touch the cerise petal would have the same effect as if you were to stroke a dove’s feather.  I look back to my hands and gander at what they have become; the rose’s angelic magic had gently wafted away from the petals onto my hand.  I could see other beatific glitter which was lightly floating away in the wind to other pastures, much further away, perhaps some with roses that were as blue as an impossible moon emitting a serene ultramarine.
 
Surrounded by thoughtful, tranquil scenes, the depth of my slumber intensified…
 

Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia

There’s Something Primal in All of Us…


I believe there is a force in this world that lives beneath the surface, something primitive and wild that awakens when you need an extra push just to survive, like wildflowers that bloom after fire turns the forest black. Most people are afraid of it, and keep it buried deep inside themselves. But there will always be a few people who have the courage to love what is untamed inside us.

(From ‘Katie’ in the movie “Flicka”)