tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7575081694417579112024-03-13T12:27:08.815-07:00The Imaginative TravelerOur World Through My Eyes...Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.comBlogger30125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-61428042191445840292010-11-26T14:55:00.001-08:002010-11-26T18:46:22.175-08:00Stormy Utah Skies<div align="center">Because I love storms, I was delighted that thunder and lightning traveled with us on a recent US road trip. Throughout the National Parks in southern Utah, rain was our constant companion...it served to heighten the colour of the red sandstone formations and provided me with hours of blissful sky-watching!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRqGqhSeeQKLed0eKtxwizCy5zSHwBHo8yM2MP5bgErqdsTflsifkQBrXdb6UDEdBehPjkXztaGtbI4p2ZKmqIiyB6iuERd2EovGjgukuSagT_0YnvYtSB_qsD-SnOVaKPbGhRdqJTvcU/s1600/UTDSC_0001.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543997730812208546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRqGqhSeeQKLed0eKtxwizCy5zSHwBHo8yM2MP5bgErqdsTflsifkQBrXdb6UDEdBehPjkXztaGtbI4p2ZKmqIiyB6iuERd2EovGjgukuSagT_0YnvYtSB_qsD-SnOVaKPbGhRdqJTvcU/s400/UTDSC_0001.jpg" /></a>Visiting Monument Valley was a special treat...it has been on my travel wish list for years. When black clouds gathered and thunder began resounding through the valley, I knew this was the perfect time for me to have come.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfQ4WImR0HDHWqlkPosAzPgjWdJV3vCy8PKUKzks6RtSyd2YbkoT11JwRnZ5NF0jkmRT-2p5M2MS694XXn7kEQC2l0WAdqAqGQ5IEKEiWQAenrKRO5_Y-MsbcgKY3n_CQzVhZAaWeg86k/s1600/Utah+Pics+1+1178.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543997495835183586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfQ4WImR0HDHWqlkPosAzPgjWdJV3vCy8PKUKzks6RtSyd2YbkoT11JwRnZ5NF0jkmRT-2p5M2MS694XXn7kEQC2l0WAdqAqGQ5IEKEiWQAenrKRO5_Y-MsbcgKY3n_CQzVhZAaWeg86k/s400/Utah+Pics+1+1178.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEklaqqmdhgMC4ePT7h-CMT3e7uHKk1ZC76GXr10_SeAO-ao-Db19c9bMkxUASSVEGu-Oh6FvTQW5cIssHTJjqvXRDOh4oQdjb7QylpgXltJulglgl1NtVGZwrJZbzv-9g6oSwMd-NACk/s1600/Utah+Pics+1+1221.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 252px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543997241185502978" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEklaqqmdhgMC4ePT7h-CMT3e7uHKk1ZC76GXr10_SeAO-ao-Db19c9bMkxUASSVEGu-Oh6FvTQW5cIssHTJjqvXRDOh4oQdjb7QylpgXltJulglgl1NtVGZwrJZbzv-9g6oSwMd-NACk/s400/Utah+Pics+1+1221.jpg" /></a><br />I have never seen rain come down with such power and volume. I was rendered breathless as I watched and listened.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZpmbhhMm61F6M3Pt97efunmFoI0r7eR6pWdNmpvYc3_CITspQkNnGOiPbfKRkbRgYpa5ebaxwf9364UsB8iHJ3mmkGNlwHA-w1DFo4Pf17SrKiT00M5ugm7NglYm6YHZx2fGomEVfb4/s1600/Utah+Pics+1+1225.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 258px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543996589617814546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZpmbhhMm61F6M3Pt97efunmFoI0r7eR6pWdNmpvYc3_CITspQkNnGOiPbfKRkbRgYpa5ebaxwf9364UsB8iHJ3mmkGNlwHA-w1DFo4Pf17SrKiT00M5ugm7NglYm6YHZx2fGomEVfb4/s400/Utah+Pics+1+1225.jpg" /></a><br />Then as suddenly as it began, the rain came to a stop. Before long the sun poked its way through again, illuminating the valley floor, now richly red, and reflecting off the rivulets that streamed from the mesa tops.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfUQc4tvSlWYklKIqiiqXiGlnCX3M_nFkjWXUfgvLm9wNMEUTHAlHXyTfxkBwzsMvEeOfRgeW-qplJKKTNNjeNrHcd3-h24pGldsNyv_5-NrOpsQo1alAmlEJlo20exyV7uNzLmz3w97s/s1600/Utah+Pics+1+1237.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 258px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543996375218892674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfUQc4tvSlWYklKIqiiqXiGlnCX3M_nFkjWXUfgvLm9wNMEUTHAlHXyTfxkBwzsMvEeOfRgeW-qplJKKTNNjeNrHcd3-h24pGldsNyv_5-NrOpsQo1alAmlEJlo20exyV7uNzLmz3w97s/s400/Utah+Pics+1+1237.jpg" /></a><br /><br />The thrill of watching a storm rage through this magical place<br />is something I will never forget...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj35ZN3YmfDTeeSNw9KtYNOI2ltupLcfTkxEWwvVotjiZLbeAzAzUSNl0Z-4_87K2chSwn5iNM1kSGQyGtiHYQjsx5oPCGY-_UvTAd3zXQDFkbn9Jw25mlOVYXB5lHApryJwHf2zm1vCFw/s1600/UTDSC_0028.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 258px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543996198245440786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj35ZN3YmfDTeeSNw9KtYNOI2ltupLcfTkxEWwvVotjiZLbeAzAzUSNl0Z-4_87K2chSwn5iNM1kSGQyGtiHYQjsx5oPCGY-_UvTAd3zXQDFkbn9Jw25mlOVYXB5lHApryJwHf2zm1vCFw/s400/UTDSC_0028.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br />I'm linking this post to Looking At The Sky on Friday, graciously hosted by Tisha of Crazy Working Mom. For more sky pictures, do check out the link below.<br /><a href="http://www.crazyworkingmom.com/hosted">http://www.crazyworkingmom.com/hosted</a><br />.<br /></div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com72tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-22951705927260303482010-11-25T10:16:00.001-08:002011-03-01T19:36:12.222-08:00A Thankful Haiku<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEU-m8xaBGUtmHvu6_30UJMqUZirgY6GXLanQXBbAtzgllFV822XtmKiJxelOOc2l5XuMfpow2rbs5nazMMkaDVsOP5UhJH8NUq-VNL7m__TwP-Se51C8zl_IEYOe_7QFiwKG2S9o_To8/s1600/Masai+Children+%25285%2529.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543577058366316130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEU-m8xaBGUtmHvu6_30UJMqUZirgY6GXLanQXBbAtzgllFV822XtmKiJxelOOc2l5XuMfpow2rbs5nazMMkaDVsOP5UhJH8NUq-VNL7m__TwP-Se51C8zl_IEYOe_7QFiwKG2S9o_To8/s320/Masai+Children+%25285%2529.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: left; height: 320px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 181px;" /></a></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMnXAOdSCnpzkQztGrsJ_I_oQ40-l4zXKL4dITWyu2B4xgSRf59Z3CE-Q5avHcd_Zq5I5GPO9sH8FR9HOL3W6UhrcY5iZelJ8QjW2J_JwNLQgCcmvyAXIw6pA9xhDlqLGi_Y6linV8GxI/s1600/Masai+Children+%25283%2529.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543576715609741186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMnXAOdSCnpzkQztGrsJ_I_oQ40-l4zXKL4dITWyu2B4xgSRf59Z3CE-Q5avHcd_Zq5I5GPO9sH8FR9HOL3W6UhrcY5iZelJ8QjW2J_JwNLQgCcmvyAXIw6pA9xhDlqLGi_Y6linV8GxI/s200/Masai+Children+%25283%2529.JPG" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 200px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 122px;" /></a><br />
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</div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgskhe9kpVJxlN7SPpkCTtQS7RzBRbfQeJh6fwzYNKtrJNGeCR0lpqb6ckl87XJGwWzK-g51bZOf9q01CLeIHDLY3eaaAu0SfgnmL19ETVVg6Enk20jZCZv6FSmllV58EPKGq0F1f0BFLg/s1600/Masai+Children+%25282%2529.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543554803893850610" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgskhe9kpVJxlN7SPpkCTtQS7RzBRbfQeJh6fwzYNKtrJNGeCR0lpqb6ckl87XJGwWzK-g51bZOf9q01CLeIHDLY3eaaAu0SfgnmL19ETVVg6Enk20jZCZv6FSmllV58EPKGq0F1f0BFLg/s320/Masai+Children+%25282%2529.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: left; height: 320px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 212px;" /></a> </div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: courier new;"><strong>Our thanks bestow on<br />
the children of the world, who<br />
teach us how to love…</strong></span><br />
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</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGQcMT0mYo88MzbCqL2IFO5EPq3HvjtLQwsI1rgRcqvTT7AsS4XBpzN_YdYrTfVrQCNIURPO8LDJeuWDpfTNVRi2MTALkAewYfD0IMHT3-VeEf6V6jQGZeLnvNdQwvah3bAdpqFBINtN0/s1600/Masai+Children+%25281%2529+Large.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543569270338488050" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGQcMT0mYo88MzbCqL2IFO5EPq3HvjtLQwsI1rgRcqvTT7AsS4XBpzN_YdYrTfVrQCNIURPO8LDJeuWDpfTNVRi2MTALkAewYfD0IMHT3-VeEf6V6jQGZeLnvNdQwvah3bAdpqFBINtN0/s400/Masai+Children+%25281%2529+Large.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 254px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a> <br />
<div align="center"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543554227389280386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDLIda1AImvjFTd079gekL9jhNNv11-jttPMF8yQp3Qk7SBb7xpigj3GRFa__PEmN7QRaazKvyWvKuSibW9MNEejqdtMfSKtQLyoirUZmyfdfunGOZ3h0IQj7tM7s1PloVPiIlRObR-P4/s320/Masai+Children+%25284%2529.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 320px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 192px;" />I was fortunate enough to spend time with these wonderful children while visiting a Masai village in Kenya in 2006. Like youngsters everywhere, they were giggly, shy, curious and keen to be noticed.<br />
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While families had little in the way of material possessions, the children were bursting with joy, eager to embrace the excitement each day brings. I was humbled by their spirit, and am still learning to be grateful for what I have, instead of pining for what I lack...</div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543568192499438578" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQcscmLDYCnry3KAy4QTq43n9EFuqK8vFGntMH9cCd9TV8g4I_siSTa9nPlyd6gyoS4yFzul1jK58eVUQelHhOdk4jkZNuzMwdi0i8YJKbulBB6V6d3-QZ6loziWZf0LtyhPmU8V3BtXs/s400/DSC_0121+%25282%2529.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 268px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /> <br />
<div align="center"><strong><em><span style="color: black;">I</span> am linking this post to Poets United Thursday Think Tank. This week's prompt is 'thanfulness', something we surely have in abundance. To see more poems about gratitude, do check out the link below:</em></strong><br />
.</div><div align="center">http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2010/11/thursday-think-tank-25-thankfulness.html</div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-27072643914135470892010-11-04T09:36:00.000-07:002010-11-04T10:09:24.068-07:00Blog Blast For Peace 2010<div align="center">I am reposting this haiku as my contribution to Blog Blast For Peace 2010. I wrote it for International Peace Day in September and have added it to a Peace Globe background provided by the amazing Mimi of 'Mimi Writes'.<br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Y5CRDOYY85YTbQ6QmarLA6lv2sv66P8pnS1MiFRB63S1o1fSAZpAmrrTcGrmUxWqcWg9zQO_LZ8zU6UQNy_s239cTiNuCBcMfScZqzE2iMDt7sEEt0LdZtfFzblF3H2ps9O3e7DRrWI/s1600/Final+globe+copy.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 302px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522746599303915938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Y5CRDOYY85YTbQ6QmarLA6lv2sv66P8pnS1MiFRB63S1o1fSAZpAmrrTcGrmUxWqcWg9zQO_LZ8zU6UQNy_s239cTiNuCBcMfScZqzE2iMDt7sEEt0LdZtfFzblF3H2ps9O3e7DRrWI/s400/Final+globe+copy.jpg" /></a> .</div><br /><div align="center">Mimi is the founder and host of 'Blog Blast for Peace', a movement designed to promote peace throughout the world. Please, <em>please</em> stop by her site and add your voice to the many who advocate an end to war and an embracing of equality for all!<br />.</div><br /><div align="center">On this hope-filled day we come together from all over the world to offer up a prayer that peace will prevail, and to make a promise to the children of the world that we will dedicate ourselves to attaining that end, no matter what it takes. They deserve no less from us.....<br />.</div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://mimiwrites.blogspot.com/2010/04/announcing-blogblast-for-peace-2010.html"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 90px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297539054141164978" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IMCsoHEmcok/SYSjs8HXzbI/AAAAAAAArZ4/s0q_N3p-NrI/s200/blogblastlogolightersharpened.jpg" /></a><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><big>November 4, 2010</big></span><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><big>.</big></span><br /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ><big>To those of my readers who have taken the time to comment on this post, you have my heartfelt thanks. I have discovered that the blogging community is a network of caring, creative souls who make a difference in each other's lives. It is the insight, intelligence and generosity of so many that make me know true peace is possible...</big></span> </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-size:85%;" ><big>.</big></span><br /><br /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-family:georgia;" ><big></big></span><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-size:85%;" ><big><em>My original post of this haiku with additional photos is at the link below for those who would like to read more...</em></big></span><br />.<br /></div><p align="center"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-size:85%;" ><big><a href="http://theimaginativetraveler.blogspot.com/2010/09/international-peace-day-2010.html">http://theimaginativetraveler.blogspot.com/2010/09/international-peace-day-2010.html</a></big></span><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><big><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><em>.</em></span></big></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd-quTy5I6-6q7hC0ORRAZGCu39yGmoCPiVxH7ixSRDTfM1GROuviapwG2Nwdzyyqb9leETmxT-gMKwp7HauS15r7KKFbKElpw5fVRhv7bcjcOaeezsqHME85WBtvxJWDkmjS4PWwfJg0/s1600/New+Buddha.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 253px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535742356030722034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd-quTy5I6-6q7hC0ORRAZGCu39yGmoCPiVxH7ixSRDTfM1GROuviapwG2Nwdzyyqb9leETmxT-gMKwp7HauS15r7KKFbKElpw5fVRhv7bcjcOaeezsqHME85WBtvxJWDkmjS4PWwfJg0/s400/New+Buddha.jpg" /></a></p>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-33553134615803329592010-10-28T20:01:00.001-07:002010-11-07T10:33:59.254-08:00Colorado Skies<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil54eP1ZzWSjHD2KtlDJJJCGAuxU4hDgGjLisvTrdnMLzcjT49ouKu8QOWLtN0jU9I_Ij4M5ECILiv3POiEv4QbMhAUTyd7Zizlpacng9HAWs0s3TGIhcVSvLBC4Hq4uHnpg2SBKWeXao/s1600/Utah+Pics+2+354.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 249px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536877103413295634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil54eP1ZzWSjHD2KtlDJJJCGAuxU4hDgGjLisvTrdnMLzcjT49ouKu8QOWLtN0jU9I_Ij4M5ECILiv3POiEv4QbMhAUTyd7Zizlpacng9HAWs0s3TGIhcVSvLBC4Hq4uHnpg2SBKWeXao/s400/Utah+Pics+2+354.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaWbFXT4ZfBK3luusst_xmAvcxLjxFv1cfkSHAL_6eVO0fXkkGhJIsL5qh9PhlMnWVUM4RLPmGdDIjlOYjNrco0_6P8X7yoIABc9bLD-vzqgXjyG-ZUBP0-KpKhAgEujsrTPcaAyCt6cY/s1600/Utah+Pics+2+313.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 209px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533306883054104450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaWbFXT4ZfBK3luusst_xmAvcxLjxFv1cfkSHAL_6eVO0fXkkGhJIsL5qh9PhlMnWVUM4RLPmGdDIjlOYjNrco0_6P8X7yoIABc9bLD-vzqgXjyG-ZUBP0-KpKhAgEujsrTPcaAyCt6cY/s320/Utah+Pics+2+313.jpg" /></a> </div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">On a recent trip to the U.S., we drove to Colorado to visit Mesa Verde National Park.<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj7UWxQ_oObcweE0k09P92jOFcuCZMR21R0EdExWRBtH0O39_WrUMrAMsIz_XaUZS17RaVnov6lM5y0wlmc42TgVMEdqLC19Kx3BtWwzasbzRaLk8XLMWylaZB5RoicrzIhk5V1sp_4ig/s1600/Utah+Pics+2+326.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533305728612307778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj7UWxQ_oObcweE0k09P92jOFcuCZMR21R0EdExWRBtH0O39_WrUMrAMsIz_XaUZS17RaVnov6lM5y0wlmc42TgVMEdqLC19Kx3BtWwzasbzRaLk8XLMWylaZB5RoicrzIhk5V1sp_4ig/s320/Utah+Pics+2+326.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center">The park was wonderful...we had a grand day exploring the cliff dwellings and <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP7VcXFacSUUR84cb9_-0jHO7yYqT-nZbPJ9w100NfMGdFT2R0EtanYgVROJMs_kmXs15KHSA4P82zdQMsDnKAXATcitAy_vl7qTDqDd9RjenkuXxxxzeuje0SCVQLJu2UQVL5BDp0sVk/s1600/Utah+Pics+2+332.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533305432127801330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP7VcXFacSUUR84cb9_-0jHO7yYqT-nZbPJ9w100NfMGdFT2R0EtanYgVROJMs_kmXs15KHSA4P82zdQMsDnKAXATcitAy_vl7qTDqDd9RjenkuXxxxzeuje0SCVQLJu2UQVL5BDp0sVk/s320/Utah+Pics+2+332.jpg" /></a> soaking up the history of this ancient site.<br /></div><br /><div align="center">.</div><br /><div align="center">As it came time to leave the park, storms clouds formed and rain began to fall on the plain below us. I could not tear myself away from the beautiful skies that resulted.<br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3SgSQlB1UU0bDrNzUoNcwZMx7oMvF0X-Utb70VwLzWoPAjgS_dxQenz-78xUyu__RUsKBL9pEnTymAu_HC-pZjPXbaozfkNdUPuyQVXSUXnSYWoP9SbHJz_e2rQ6gLh6KUA0mtlqTTCo/s1600/Utah+Pics+2+350.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 262px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533304999927816450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3SgSQlB1UU0bDrNzUoNcwZMx7oMvF0X-Utb70VwLzWoPAjgS_dxQenz-78xUyu__RUsKBL9pEnTymAu_HC-pZjPXbaozfkNdUPuyQVXSUXnSYWoP9SbHJz_e2rQ6gLh6KUA0mtlqTTCo/s400/Utah+Pics+2+350.jpg" /></a> These are a few of my favourites from that evening...<br /><br />.</div><br /><div align="center"><em><strong>I’m linking this post to ‘Looking At The Sky Friday’, graciously hosted by CrAzY Working Mom at the link below. Do stop by for skies that will inspire!</strong></em></div><br /><div align="center">.<br /><a href="http://www.crazyworkingmom.com/">http://www.crazyworkingmom.com/</a></div><br /><div align="center">. </div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-8373993378834552742010-10-01T06:13:00.000-07:002010-10-01T23:31:53.634-07:00Road Trip!<div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi14xkZ1PuOQvEvR9JhaPqDexHjIebcVvFcZzF5nqgxHFvcUt6BOdcDoyFBdIFbseCYd6JNLJUpuMSRGwCZJ0mPfP2QO80TjC5tq1nc20hmXr3M1rZ7kbCTUsjrHaY9iDFlnTaILRiNH8/s1600/1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 211px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521770484751188850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi14xkZ1PuOQvEvR9JhaPqDexHjIebcVvFcZzF5nqgxHFvcUt6BOdcDoyFBdIFbseCYd6JNLJUpuMSRGwCZJ0mPfP2QO80TjC5tq1nc20hmXr3M1rZ7kbCTUsjrHaY9iDFlnTaILRiNH8/s320/1.jpg" /></a> </div><br /><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Route 66, Arizona</span></em></strong><br />. </div><div align="center">I will be incommunicado for the first part of the month. My husband and I are taking another trip down to the Southwest area that we so enjoy, both for the incredible scenery and the mystical history behind its scattered ruins. This will be the first time we hit Four Corners, where Utah, Arizona, New Mexico and Colorado meet, so there will be much to discover. We fly into Las Vegas, then immediately set off on a week-long road trip, mostly spent exploring the National Parks in Utah, to finally end up in Salt Lake City for a few days before heading home. </div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVomSXMlEKjUsYtbBlvLxTs1TbQ0imYRcfThZCVU5otYwNIHp1FslA2lADG4lio7TqZLkN2v9LIk6GwnBGBx0LAj6ZRybyfTCg1HV9XilAdbJGrD5tLWGZya_79iA1ibs6VEA9w7AUNgA/s1600/1+(1).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 212px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521770217947885186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVomSXMlEKjUsYtbBlvLxTs1TbQ0imYRcfThZCVU5otYwNIHp1FslA2lADG4lio7TqZLkN2v9LIk6GwnBGBx0LAj6ZRybyfTCg1HV9XilAdbJGrD5tLWGZya_79iA1ibs6VEA9w7AUNgA/s320/1+(1).jpg" /></a> .</div><div align="center">I am including a tentative itinerary here for any armchair travelers among you who might be interested. Of course, plans are always subject to change! Leaving the house and furry companions in the capable hands of our big sons, we will be free souls wandering wherever whim takes us…our favourite thing in the world to do!<br /><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">.</span></strong></em><br /></div><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV7d-x05UxVnIWxVLT9ddR_UnZGWjdWBGuU4jD0nf6CR4ROg6hIN4a-h48N1dG7gfwvb-Tx0K5P3hXi34NLtoU897mVFabwIC_mGGgXs3gGJZgX-t8YjDU9EnKe2E8_D_YOYXlv6aa_VE/s1600/1+(2).jpg"><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 212px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521767715281287794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV7d-x05UxVnIWxVLT9ddR_UnZGWjdWBGuU4jD0nf6CR4ROg6hIN4a-h48N1dG7gfwvb-Tx0K5P3hXi34NLtoU897mVFabwIC_mGGgXs3gGJZgX-t8YjDU9EnKe2E8_D_YOYXlv6aa_VE/s320/1+(2).jpg" /></span></strong></em></a><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Grand Canyon, Arizona </span></strong></em></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">.</span></em></strong></div><br /><div align="center">My much-loved regular readers do not need me to say that I am rendered breathless at the thought of photographing Antelope Canyon, (high on my bucket list), and Bryce Canyon, not to mention Monument Valley! Think of every John Ford western flick you’ve ever seen with the red spires and buttes…are they not beyond magnificent? I am literally aquiver with anticipation! </div><br /><p align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Grand Canyon, Arizona</span></em></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitDiZmahClCTdPgFdN0hlSYBKt-E1fGtYqkg7Y3bsxOm9pdp-f3TS6IGK_DXjEVhGW9h-FYpWpCWaOyKq9nTYCk3Ns9yg7r-FgumqJCOk7RMWDDGT87T88Z9nrYKx5GHnmSQN1znTR4bQ/s1600/1+(4).jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 210px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521767457665325330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitDiZmahClCTdPgFdN0hlSYBKt-E1fGtYqkg7Y3bsxOm9pdp-f3TS6IGK_DXjEVhGW9h-FYpWpCWaOyKq9nTYCk3Ns9yg7r-FgumqJCOk7RMWDDGT87T88Z9nrYKx5GHnmSQN1znTR4bQ/s320/1+(4).jpg" /></a><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">This is the plan:</span></strong></em><br />2nd: Vancouver to Las Vegas<br />3rd: Las Vegas to Zion Nat. Park<br />4th: Bryce Canyon, UT,<br />5th: Antelope Canyon, AZ<br />6th: Monument Valley, AZ<br />7th: Mesa Verde, CO<br />8th: Arches Nat. Park, UT<br />9th: Canyonlands, UT<br />10th: Salt Lake City and environs<br />11th: Salt Lake City to Vancouver</p><div align="center"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 206px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521767251953241842" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixeUAVFBUiLt4vGwgGS3KRKtbMiu7rSxKKf76_CrlwYD6QyDv8gZyk-DMZogD1K-WdxinbjgdUAbUzpV5BLs022MEqMhK3qhTZfcizvZUXgoFd5nmcPsj2q9szNNYWn9s53UxUCv6gwZA/s320/1+(5).jpg" /><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Chapel On The Hill, Sedona</span></em></strong><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">.<br /></span></em></strong>My camera awaits...batteries charged and memory cards lined up. When I get back online, I hope to have many wonders to share with you. I’ll try not to bore you with an excess of photos, but like an overexcited child, I don’t always know when to stop…and moderation never was my strong suit!<br />.<br />I may check in whilst away, but striving to take in as much as we can, we spend very little time in hotel rooms. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back. In the meantime…happy blogging!!<br />.</div><br /><div align="center"><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">The photos above are from a trip to the Arizona in 2007</span></strong></em><br /><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">.</span></em></strong></div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-60297446124934619462010-09-25T20:07:00.000-07:002010-09-25T22:51:16.513-07:00Sacred Stone<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBWr69cPRTSRSFuj3LkI_lrwLQ6ob8lNFMnyKXNhccp9mGV5HaASt6Kq9j4VSsz11g1y88hIBOzmgMmszLJQ41kqZBPbJJinVwQemG0MyG2l-zVlMJm3Y5qr94DnU1-4Enys_MlbKsfp8/s1600/Maybe.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 203px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521094748466795298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBWr69cPRTSRSFuj3LkI_lrwLQ6ob8lNFMnyKXNhccp9mGV5HaASt6Kq9j4VSsz11g1y88hIBOzmgMmszLJQ41kqZBPbJJinVwQemG0MyG2l-zVlMJm3Y5qr94DnU1-4Enys_MlbKsfp8/s320/Maybe.jpg" /></a><br /><div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:courier new;">Carved in sacred stone</span></strong><br /></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:courier new;">upon temples of the Nile,</span></strong><br /></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:courier new;">the history of Kings.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Courier New;">.</span></strong><br /></div><div align="center"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 258px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521070635015399218" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4XwJmL0_ssgqX2H6_YpTA8cOrw94JIshWS-39OxSXHCwxRaXgUu4fDWqzR2CrfM-ivmJqCux3kLmxGypz0Kml0caW_y6rZFmxiq5oXYkHUdgquhcvlhirskSmJ8NxR8hlr0VUcXCbtuE/s400/a+(156).jpg" />.<br /></div><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">I've just discovered a new haiku meme! When I saw that the prompt word for today was 'sacred', I immediately thought of Egypt.<br />.</div><div align="center"><strong><em>For more haiku, may I suggest you stop by</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Haiku Heights at the following link...</em></strong></div><div align="center">. </div><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://haiku-heights.blogspot.com/">http://haiku-heights.blogspot.com/</a></div></div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-69910246391674599862010-09-23T15:44:00.001-07:002010-09-24T17:45:46.933-07:00A Canadian Autumn<div align="center"></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbbTCGj7soXKlyKsUW2wxhoT-u7uYANGK2O72pyycvBY4KjeDZmotWbjRuVJS0146BKochJNooTlsqv6r-DHHchyphenhyphenPAjs185YAHPZEfhS61KGwZUgbn_1ec9tzXgK7YG7x9sjBAhr0a9Ik/s1600/1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520251333042660786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbbTCGj7soXKlyKsUW2wxhoT-u7uYANGK2O72pyycvBY4KjeDZmotWbjRuVJS0146BKochJNooTlsqv6r-DHHchyphenhyphenPAjs185YAHPZEfhS61KGwZUgbn_1ec9tzXgK7YG7x9sjBAhr0a9Ik/s200/1.jpg" /></a> .</div><div align="center">. </div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">Autumn strikes a pose,</div><div align="center">that we might better admire<br />her fine russet gown…<span style="color:#000000;"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxwZ1tcWf87FcRwY2xG4iqvCBE9La8DeQ9c-laAwwcB8Emiy02G2Ozr4TihnxhoufSGRS0g0GegTBghEweiBsbask7b07B5qWVs3krDsPnGEGAStWvsKvcVxzJHA_B-4sMDe0RCim6W68/s1600/Stamps.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 160px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520249241023437890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxwZ1tcWf87FcRwY2xG4iqvCBE9La8DeQ9c-laAwwcB8Emiy02G2Ozr4TihnxhoufSGRS0g0GegTBghEweiBsbask7b07B5qWVs3krDsPnGEGAStWvsKvcVxzJHA_B-4sMDe0RCim6W68/s200/Stamps.jpg" /></a> Indian summer<br />is a callous lover who</div><div align="center">heeds not winters call...<br /></div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">. </div><div align="center">.<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgC9FpYHE_RwmaKkG9PIxtpmmvrqqdMgS-xDmBzYqIQ1TPnlYvunx7v0OGQZA0h8fIwwauGIUkvrwDOQi0AijbO7-epCYFFHNiS1XD1Aox57EU9QDYW-uTwoDahr4nx5roCyHIFRnNa-c/s1600/1B6DA60B-7387-4C98-8688-CBCD5E0371F6.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520246113116550338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgC9FpYHE_RwmaKkG9PIxtpmmvrqqdMgS-xDmBzYqIQ1TPnlYvunx7v0OGQZA0h8fIwwauGIUkvrwDOQi0AijbO7-epCYFFHNiS1XD1Aox57EU9QDYW-uTwoDahr4nx5roCyHIFRnNa-c/s200/1B6DA60B-7387-4C98-8688-CBCD5E0371F6.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Summer sheds her green</div><div align="center">attire to wrap herself in</div><div align="center">cloaks of burnished gold...<br />.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><strong></div></strong></span><div align="center"><em><strong>I am linking this post to the Thursday Think Tank Prompt at Poets United. To check out more poems, please visit the link below...<br /></strong></em><a href="http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/">http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/</a></div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center"><strong>The photo effects above are courtesy of Funny Photo at the following link...</strong></div><div align="center"><a href="http://funny.pho.to/">http://funny.pho.to/</a></div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-50116696293325302010-09-21T11:20:00.000-07:002010-09-22T19:06:26.407-07:00International Peace Day 2010<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0xExxUUiOukqNNbt4x6xIrTcGJUESACzMHnMhd1W3j_XO4xUWumd9fepfqYjFL0csyyLPcgPMgxzbBfxaE5nX6i22Av-Vk7ojpzCUAHKfXRpCAZ5EoZKs_bgr9h0pny4DmzA0VJk1dUg/s1600/1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 193px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519063863510827490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0xExxUUiOukqNNbt4x6xIrTcGJUESACzMHnMhd1W3j_XO4xUWumd9fepfqYjFL0csyyLPcgPMgxzbBfxaE5nX6i22Av-Vk7ojpzCUAHKfXRpCAZ5EoZKs_bgr9h0pny4DmzA0VJk1dUg/s200/1.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center"><strong>Haiku for Peace</strong><br /></div><div align="center"><strong>.</strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:courier new;">'Neath skin dark or light</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:courier new;">beats a heart that knows only</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:courier new;">the colour of love...</span></strong><br /></div><p align="center">. </p><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwR_BSHHur4ngnRJP5Wzq7Psa-g8biUdrNLuEVHumZPGmnhYliC7ttZQ1a7UJG8oWLHvJbRLcAYrWBnhTv5bZa1Hgrfxrv9BTv7zHVQfWBwD6bQbHCQHMynaS4irI-ZiyBaZht3LoqWBY/s1600/2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 220px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519063450285275202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwR_BSHHur4ngnRJP5Wzq7Psa-g8biUdrNLuEVHumZPGmnhYliC7ttZQ1a7UJG8oWLHvJbRLcAYrWBnhTv5bZa1Hgrfxrv9BTv7zHVQfWBwD6bQbHCQHMynaS4irI-ZiyBaZht3LoqWBY/s320/2.jpg" /></a> Children are the same the world over. The lively and curious youngsters I met in this African village in 2006 were kindred spirits to the giggling, rambunctious kids who frolicked through a shared childhood with my own offspring in Canada.</div><div align="center">.<br />To a child, each day is an adventure and life is always more about sharing than dividing. I propose this may be a recipe for serenity at any age...</div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4bRudksQcQbiSJUvtvENOt1XHAtA10-iLbGADzJYI2BMsCAoOk3R6o6RqJ1jEwVeGoNqzjpTcksKCr_nh5qxgrw81_VN2Q7hw7qNslLiYrx3yKteZM6EhR5KMzXTXzyP0ERIcwYuLyv4/s1600/3+large.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 249px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519063236715633954" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4bRudksQcQbiSJUvtvENOt1XHAtA10-iLbGADzJYI2BMsCAoOk3R6o6RqJ1jEwVeGoNqzjpTcksKCr_nh5qxgrw81_VN2Q7hw7qNslLiYrx3yKteZM6EhR5KMzXTXzyP0ERIcwYuLyv4/s400/3+large.jpg" /></a> .</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.<br />On this visit, one grinning young lad clasped onto my arms and would not let go. As he snuggled in close against me, I was reminded of my much-loved sons at that age, bursting as they were with the curious mixture of independence and affection that changed them from moment to moment as they grew into their own skin.<br />.<img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 137px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519063066586546706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR5mQbWH3aYWI8Vz2aaTn2YoakjL97aoB6cg5laCmOOFZ77fWOJslp_zduhEV-gOaK9Ue3LhjQgXM-SAB6KyXtvRcMzD-czfzz74LWLzo0f45Io-VIkDl6rjFRxoWBbCHb381Jlb5AOXI/s200/4+small.jpg" /></div><div align="center">How can it be that the complete acceptance we embrace in childhood so often dissipates by the time we reach adulthood?<br />I have not found the anwer to this question that so desperately needs explained. If we seekers of the world work together, is it not possible we may gain back the ability to trust and to share wholeheartedly? I have to believe it can be so.<br />.</div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwDj_zcbb4MUPthSg2QDaqxQS3o0Yfw9BfeAKJ3dVMQrf3p1I5ObWQKn_rYp8DpS-MsSlgvNxofL1V9UW4RSD1cpz3wgLKcQGj7Y3Tvm1g5uU4cABb6sQ1eh_YhVgCBCV8p5z4_69JR6o/s1600/5.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 172px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519062933644673890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwDj_zcbb4MUPthSg2QDaqxQS3o0Yfw9BfeAKJ3dVMQrf3p1I5ObWQKn_rYp8DpS-MsSlgvNxofL1V9UW4RSD1cpz3wgLKcQGj7Y3Tvm1g5uU4cABb6sQ1eh_YhVgCBCV8p5z4_69JR6o/s320/5.jpg" /></a> <strong><em>September 21st, 2010 is</em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em>International Peace Day.</em></strong><br /></div><div align="center"><strong><em>.</em></strong><br /></div><div align="center">I am posting this haiku simultaneously here and on my other blog, Imagination Lane, to join my voice to the worldwide prayer that we may one day put an end to the madness of war...and that peace may then allow us to begin the long journey toward healing our fragile world. </div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">Let this peace be our bequest to the children of </div><div align="center">today...and their promise for tomorrow.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">Namaste</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center"><em><strong>If you would like to know more about these wonderful youngsters, you might want to check out some earlier posts...</strong> </em></div><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://theimaginativetraveler.blogspot.com/2010/07/dreams-of-africa.html"><span style="font-size:85%;">http://theimaginativetraveler.blogspot.com/2010/07/dreams-of-africa.html</span></a> <a href="http://theimaginativetraveler.blogspot.com/2010/08/africas-true-treasure.html"><span style="font-size:85%;">http://theimaginativetraveler.blogspot.com/2010/08/africas-true-treasure.html</span></a><br /><a href="http://theimaginativetraveler.blogspot.com/2010/07/giraffe-rescue-centre-kenya.html"><span style="font-size:85%;">http://theimaginativetraveler.blogspot.com/2010/07/giraffe-rescue-centre-kenya.html</span></a><br /><a href="http://theimaginativetraveler.blogspot.com/2010/07/forgotten-generation-aids-orphans-in.html"><span style="font-size:85%;">http://theimaginativetraveler.blogspot.com/2010/07/forgotten-generation-aids-orphans-in.html</span></a></p>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-67871457349465510312010-09-19T22:51:00.000-07:002011-02-18T13:55:10.002-08:00Egyptian Shadows<div align="center"><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">As my last post was of Egyptian skies, I thought to continue with more of this country's beauty for Shadow Shot Sunday. </span></strong></em><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH6asRFaze1FQBJuz0hy9K6CYfZoHduTuEWefj4lozxelfaEbkybglNR1cOOcgCpLViMsbnNuCkBMrTFvoytCYkZ-yWpzLondALzM05juheARGsdJDDDGdy05Wp_DG-hVOyo9nuzNDsAg/s1600/DSC_1002.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 256px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518502125510026578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH6asRFaze1FQBJuz0hy9K6CYfZoHduTuEWefj4lozxelfaEbkybglNR1cOOcgCpLViMsbnNuCkBMrTFvoytCYkZ-yWpzLondALzM05juheARGsdJDDDGdy05Wp_DG-hVOyo9nuzNDsAg/s400/DSC_1002.jpg" /></a><br />There is a wonderful luminosity to the light in Egypt as it reflects off handhewn columns and ripples over sand underfoot. Everthing the sun touches here turns golden, contrasting sharply with the dim inner spaces that sunlight doesn't reach.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">Ancient temples are this photographers's dream, affording perfect studies in sun and shadow... </div><div align="center">light against dark.</div><div align="left">.<br /><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">The Temple of Horus at Edfu</span></strong></em></div><p align="center"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-ayZul49GO-9bPZLsCyqgWzGpL49mZII3qgimb5yDRg5pMllMy1InLJCjhnpcMjEP3dBnCaL9nd2FMiKYhfAm7uzbMRBX4wsOmpo6P2heUuh8yxNBTkmtKGW97cgxZurqL4xamXliNo/s1600/a+(145).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518501657571435298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-ayZul49GO-9bPZLsCyqgWzGpL49mZII3qgimb5yDRg5pMllMy1InLJCjhnpcMjEP3dBnCaL9nd2FMiKYhfAm7uzbMRBX4wsOmpo6P2heUuh8yxNBTkmtKGW97cgxZurqL4xamXliNo/s320/a+(145).jpg" /></a>I became fascinated by patterns formed as sunlight struck the ornate pillars and swept across deeply etched hieroglyphic images.<br /><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Kom Ombo Temple, Aswan<br /></span></strong></em><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheQbDQOT730Sy67FCHQBHI1y5GLijmpy2Xp0YwqGfA4dmrXX-d1hJ4foL00HMT41npQsFAkqIVUzS1B2WKdti0IJjyBG3hr8x6pz7L59yOuWD0b_rWUockl17zhv6jN43rN_EqlFwAioQ/s1600/a+(11).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 232px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518501020169097218" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheQbDQOT730Sy67FCHQBHI1y5GLijmpy2Xp0YwqGfA4dmrXX-d1hJ4foL00HMT41npQsFAkqIVUzS1B2WKdti0IJjyBG3hr8x6pz7L59yOuWD0b_rWUockl17zhv6jN43rN_EqlFwAioQ/s400/a+(11).jpg" /></a><br />Moving along pillared halls was like walking with giants. I marvelled at the height and breadth of the columns, each one precisely carved by the master craftsmen who built these temples many centuries ago.<br />.<br /><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Karnak Temple, Luxor</span></strong></em></p><p align="center"><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">.<br /></p></span></strong></em><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></strong></em><p align="center"><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Kom Ombo Temple, Aswan</p></span></strong></em><p align="center"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518500772914797506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaGLIYSARsf92WoxqWYjBu_S9GPRE9SNbWRZSW5VyK2Ohcf02GbOsTHEkI5owNPAl7L1sjXqaBVgfXL2TfDXAT7SGAm2ppNXvNpU_OhORgjdo5Gs1WD3_3JP7Vt6BZ6X-slgHdyz20fyk/s400/a+(148).jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />As if the decorated columns were not sufficiently beautiful, they are topped by magnificent capitols<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRN7L1pb2QCUANqYuJqeK-0VBlr-Ji_KhUGdok4IFd08dXTDGL_sZNqpgs4TGuAd_pe4haXfbsl2K1FhVPbQ9QUsZoIm6WUIOPE0cUZjFcDsmQu5U_tioUj-Hf04inkD0QMmOYSwG88pA/s1600/a+(225).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518500584673219714" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRN7L1pb2QCUANqYuJqeK-0VBlr-Ji_KhUGdok4IFd08dXTDGL_sZNqpgs4TGuAd_pe4haXfbsl2K1FhVPbQ9QUsZoIm6WUIOPE0cUZjFcDsmQu5U_tioUj-Hf04inkD0QMmOYSwG88pA/s400/a+(225).jpg" /></a>,carved into breathtaking swirls and flourishes.<br />.<br />These temples were once painted in brilliant royal hues of blue and red. Occasionally, one lifts one's eyes to spot a majestic falcon on an archway overhead, wings spread wide to protect his pharaoh, feathers still bearing traces of the blazing turquoise and gold that once made it soar.<br /></p><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQZyoc4ydctTcopqMk0Ag1FMqiJ3wGfeWXX-enM11lvfWD-YRnnewy76RsxURQbsY2rp7S41b-H-yBhHpp7l_8AWa70pWmy48M2tx0BrQ7W7lNrGnm9t7EfdhnfbDPl81nUPbMXlx7Zv0/s1600/a+(226).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 279px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518500438763701602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQZyoc4ydctTcopqMk0Ag1FMqiJ3wGfeWXX-enM11lvfWD-YRnnewy76RsxURQbsY2rp7S41b-H-yBhHpp7l_8AWa70pWmy48M2tx0BrQ7W7lNrGnm9t7EfdhnfbDPl81nUPbMXlx7Zv0/s400/a+(226).jpg" /></a><br />How astounding it is to stand in these decorated halls built for the glorification of kings and gods!<br /><br /><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Hypostyle Hall, </span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Temple of Luxor,</span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Luxor</em><br /></span></strong><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEmGnoCVIlA6-WBCm3suD6wxQ0eQdqelO3YJTzbrwRwFJOY6q4gsoCrVwNWiVo0y9plwohePXFIL7ZiyZe2Gu5hEBOybsXdjMVRqLvsKBnurlujSl6VocoapdVmrItFavyYUbSeHKeBLE/s1600/IMGP0827.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 331px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518498621731264274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEmGnoCVIlA6-WBCm3suD6wxQ0eQdqelO3YJTzbrwRwFJOY6q4gsoCrVwNWiVo0y9plwohePXFIL7ZiyZe2Gu5hEBOybsXdjMVRqLvsKBnurlujSl6VocoapdVmrItFavyYUbSeHKeBLE/s400/IMGP0827.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Medinet Habu,</span></strong></em></div><div align="center"><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Mortuary Temple of Ramses III,</span></strong></em></div><div align="center"><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Luxor<br /></span><br /></strong></em>Time and pollution have faded the brilliant colurs and worn gouges into the sandstone, but nothing will ever completerly diminish the magic or the magnificence of Ancient Egypt's treasures...<br /></div><div align="center">. </div><div align="center">. </div><div align="center">.<br /><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Many thanks to 'Hey, Harriet' for hosting this Sunday event! To see more, do drop by her page at...<br /></span></em></strong>.</div><div align="center"><a href="http://heyharriet.blogspot.com/">http://heyharriet.blogspot.com/</a><br />.</div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-29236823791743070542010-09-17T08:19:00.001-07:002010-09-17T15:09:55.354-07:00Egyptian Skies<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrRkzXDhosi3yhBBB2rpR7Ml3eMgeWhT84Eh1NJl15GKxCqLpB2ehYmlHy2Jza0m2WuSkoZzJhcBf4bUzFCtnyPenQu2V6hSGcfPYxrG706AqPGNKvxqR9b-upxUlFiA2jQgfh94VFdyk/s1600/a.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 268px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517904815180198594" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrRkzXDhosi3yhBBB2rpR7Ml3eMgeWhT84Eh1NJl15GKxCqLpB2ehYmlHy2Jza0m2WuSkoZzJhcBf4bUzFCtnyPenQu2V6hSGcfPYxrG706AqPGNKvxqR9b-upxUlFiA2jQgfh94VFdyk/s400/a.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center">In Egypt, the sun is unrelenting. With negligible rainfall, few clouds mar the blue perfection of its skies and the heat is a presence you can reach out and touch.</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz1Jj4YUzzTIetUEebXRq9VNPjADKHlLtoQ8wrGu255jANbk-ETXLMlXSqmMOxT_xhR45Qu0jAqZ2MBZfzVTHg4IPMGr7Bkv8P_FWcyKinTGJZK2lpu5pmJWdHUIhz6c5G7er7IVkTPNk/s1600/a.jpg"></a><br /><br /><div align="center"><br /><em><strong>Sunset over the Nile<br /></div></strong></em><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgliK7g37KXHoFmIZN7UfQXqrSkcVERExEc-OazjbBbZrfHHrAfF6s8eBm8wlnTv1-EaikQlTkf3CB9dhAd-CVkjGbiHFrqyHU-1s_KbMpKzQU1bGIS-KuGYue5_x_pOQJW1e-YvyLkuRM/s1600/a+(1).jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 229px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517904182056387074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgliK7g37KXHoFmIZN7UfQXqrSkcVERExEc-OazjbBbZrfHHrAfF6s8eBm8wlnTv1-EaikQlTkf3CB9dhAd-CVkjGbiHFrqyHU-1s_KbMpKzQU1bGIS-KuGYue5_x_pOQJW1e-YvyLkuRM/s400/a+(1).jpg" /></a> We visited Egypt at the peak of summer when daytime temperatures were in excess of 40 degrees Celsius, (105 degrees Fahrenheit), and the evenings cooled down only marginally.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiVz0a19i1mpc1n5ppJGTsfTy7Hyiq6t5aO-RtgNCb6PdZGsU4iBgutULYpqtq8kaVaAEunGAFGfQ3Xa_cvS6kAld9HRuT98VOOiTqRmdT4Sd0zYkMx09GcQ-21XX2lAyFjmYg8eBGfX4/s1600/a+(3).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517904008435940690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiVz0a19i1mpc1n5ppJGTsfTy7Hyiq6t5aO-RtgNCb6PdZGsU4iBgutULYpqtq8kaVaAEunGAFGfQ3Xa_cvS6kAld9HRuT98VOOiTqRmdT4Sd0zYkMx09GcQ-21XX2lAyFjmYg8eBGfX4/s400/a+(3).jpg" /></a> <em><strong>The Sphinx</strong></em><br />.<br />The capital city, Cairo and its surrounding area, is home to seventeen million people. Roads are a driving nightmare as millions of tightly-packed trucks and cars jostle for space, spreading out in in numerous wide lanes that follow no order we could discern.<br />.<br />As a result of this density, a blanket of smog shrouds the city always. On the Giza Plateau, we were told this was a good day and we were lucky to have clear skies to see the view.<br /><a ref="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha3xDNkv08d5Ihj6RSErFxBo71Z4dG8M5EUbaXSFsR-ka2HbrAeMqFg-QtyeALqV6F_dazA2W3jCK1-po0n1jrMtzvfXmj9ga73xDvVXCghVPFZDHhgRpvCAHCISlLegAE_WMD_7bc5pM/s1600/a+(5).jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 221px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517909099684798578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha3xDNkv08d5Ihj6RSErFxBo71Z4dG8M5EUbaXSFsR-ka2HbrAeMqFg-QtyeALqV6F_dazA2W3jCK1-po0n1jrMtzvfXmj9ga73xDvVXCghVPFZDHhgRpvCAHCISlLegAE_WMD_7bc5pM/s400/a+(5).jpg" /></a><em><strong>The Giza Plateau looking across the Nile River to Cairo.<br /></strong></em><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuWsoaAiI75rKqKJXHsOShV2IpdnQyazgtY1YyB4-1_fwNrWtAplC589apRtMqN4c4kKhTvJb9xJSn5SKpqjKiawmj5MkQhvcdYlq9xG4CjH44SaKzj_nh7wimNd5gmzTVp8RQAGp5Mb0/s1600/a+(4).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 258px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517903825535177666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuWsoaAiI75rKqKJXHsOShV2IpdnQyazgtY1YyB4-1_fwNrWtAplC589apRtMqN4c4kKhTvJb9xJSn5SKpqjKiawmj5MkQhvcdYlq9xG4CjH44SaKzj_nh7wimNd5gmzTVp8RQAGp5Mb0/s400/a+(4).jpg" /></a> .<br />Of course, stifling heat, traffic madness and the ever-present din of car horns could not detract from the majesty of the Pyramids. It was easy, on that expanse of plateau, to imagine life along the Nile when pharaohs ruled, and these pyramids were built to hold their remains.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMsKYfujziy9VTFTQkgM_SGq8iI43LUBPb5O9WOVtyM6By8hj1k4yHdZ5rEw4LTf0h3_j5EZhoBo3q4H6crdkFjidx3o7PrBnDFwBxCunCK3mKu2v6d5TGrKK7lnnqFeGLEUd2T-e9Ht8/s1600/a+(6).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 265px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517903297238535042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMsKYfujziy9VTFTQkgM_SGq8iI43LUBPb5O9WOVtyM6By8hj1k4yHdZ5rEw4LTf0h3_j5EZhoBo3q4H6crdkFjidx3o7PrBnDFwBxCunCK3mKu2v6d5TGrKK7lnnqFeGLEUd2T-e9Ht8/s400/a+(6).jpg" /></a><br />The Valley of The Kings lies on the West Bank of the Nile. Ancient Egyptians believed that, as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, so should man live on the East Bank of the Nile and be buried on the West. </div><div>.</div><div>The skies here were clearer, and the temperature even higher as the valley held tightly onto the sun's heat.</div><div>Climbing ever-deeper into the burial tombs of kings, the air shimmering with the heat and humidity generated by the hundreds of tourists that pressed around me, I felt my heart fill with a delight and satisfaction that surpassed any thought of discomfort.<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBM392YQfaFWe06-lWYklfx8wP__RSZg55WVMujxHYclnzXhli8wQHvNcOhw751mMzPRPEea2lyb6kGuCUVvT_YVvJ_mnXHNucM8_4IxQGvIu1AkFfToYHQaNn445r9IXh_kPZPkiJn3Q/s1600/1+(5).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 265px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517902808184911682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBM392YQfaFWe06-lWYklfx8wP__RSZg55WVMujxHYclnzXhli8wQHvNcOhw751mMzPRPEea2lyb6kGuCUVvT_YVvJ_mnXHNucM8_4IxQGvIu1AkFfToYHQaNn445r9IXh_kPZPkiJn3Q/s400/1+(5).jpg" /></a><br />After a lifetime fascination with Egyptology, I was at last following the footsteps of pharaohs...and it was magnificent!<br />.<br /><em><strong>I’m linking this post to ‘Looking At The Sky Friday’, graciously hosted by CrAzY Working Mom at the link below. Do stop by for skies that will inspire!</strong></em></div><div><a href="http://www.crazyworkingmom.com/">http://www.crazyworkingmom.com/</a> </div><div></div><div><strong></strong> </div></div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-86843446678013528152010-09-16T09:00:00.000-07:002010-09-17T21:12:07.097-07:00My Irish Uncle<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXDbm2FA0PxK1pC9p_DKqsxPfwpadSH36iMwJSbqoeHCXIBSLeGBKFsaV0paIldqPykZOT6AH2RHZqEz0__pYaetOJNvs5q3-tCPN5zZF7ap7tL15m30scffCPijoImark5HX3OvIsIbM/s1600/Milford.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 258px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517540691396697282" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXDbm2FA0PxK1pC9p_DKqsxPfwpadSH36iMwJSbqoeHCXIBSLeGBKFsaV0paIldqPykZOT6AH2RHZqEz0__pYaetOJNvs5q3-tCPN5zZF7ap7tL15m30scffCPijoImark5HX3OvIsIbM/s400/Milford.jpg" /></a>.</div><div align="center"><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><strong>A hand held out..a<br />glimpse of other lives I might<br />one day make my own… </strong></span><br />. </div><div align="center">.<br /><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">In a childhood laced with strife, my Uncle Milford laid before me his art books and music so that I might know there was much in life that was beautiful. I have never forgotten the generosity of spirit that promised me a brighter future… </span></em></strong><br /><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">.</span></em></strong><br />I'm linking this post to the Thursday Think Tank Prompt at Poets United. For more poetry, please check out their link....<br /><a href="http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/">http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/</a><br />. </div><div align="center"><strong>If you enjoyed Robert's music choice of Leonard Cohen on the Think Tank today, you might like to check out a piece I reposted on my other blog...</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><a href="http://imaginationlane.blogspot.com/">http://imaginationlane.blogspot.com/</a></div><div align="center">.<a href="http://imaginationlane.blogspot.com/2010/03/hallelujah.h%20otml"></a></div></div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-30954806341277325142010-09-09T14:15:00.001-07:002010-09-09T15:37:23.862-07:00Belfast Haiku<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3gJYwD8bamBnFGCQnXXPVEQbhF2zL4wtzV2hbBOX3ENBhwaWDEdA86zpCaEGnrgd1T3SQeoR7RoAWvRAhIkhvklfGsa8TQb4-cQF5Hkq17qnRfwKhefbMrfavQ3oKNzIbNTboHjSNQC0/s1600/DSC_0682.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 258px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515025661975793522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3gJYwD8bamBnFGCQnXXPVEQbhF2zL4wtzV2hbBOX3ENBhwaWDEdA86zpCaEGnrgd1T3SQeoR7RoAWvRAhIkhvklfGsa8TQb4-cQF5Hkq17qnRfwKhefbMrfavQ3oKNzIbNTboHjSNQC0/s400/DSC_0682.jpg" /></a> .<br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"><strong>Walls slathered with hate..</strong></span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><strong>a city broken at heart, </strong></span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><strong>and God laid to blame.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Courier New;">.</span></strong> </div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><em>I am posting a second poem for the Thursday Think Tank Prompt at Poets United. Coming from a town that has segregated its citizens by ramming a divisive Peace Line through its heart, I know more than I would like to about walls, and the wrongs so often perpetrated in the name of religion.</em></span></strong></div><p align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">To learn more about this Peace Line, you may be interested to read 'A City Divided', posted August 7th, 2010.</span></em></strong></p><p align="center"><a href="http://theimaginativetraveler.blogspot.com/2010/08/city-divided.html">http://theimaginativetraveler.blogspot.com/2010/08/city-divided.html</a><br /></p><p align="center">To check out more poems in the Thursday Think Tank, please visit the link below...</p><p align="center">.<a href="http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/">http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/</a>.</p>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-30337564058617533822010-09-08T07:41:00.000-07:002011-02-18T13:55:53.400-08:00The Walls of Lincoln Castle<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZCy_zSjrvE5WGwiFTY_HSp0MkBbJWnYyM_uhm1ygGp8n37bEUvqIlqGpri3-HRQ2zSyf2se_Iy-oglTD-DdCGsLfgagbBTI9PGwbZFYI5i-stiNX_6lsDiVIe5nadzLdrO_soMPUF7-E/s1600/DSC_0255.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514925762722020770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZCy_zSjrvE5WGwiFTY_HSp0MkBbJWnYyM_uhm1ygGp8n37bEUvqIlqGpri3-HRQ2zSyf2se_Iy-oglTD-DdCGsLfgagbBTI9PGwbZFYI5i-stiNX_6lsDiVIe5nadzLdrO_soMPUF7-E/s400/DSC_0255.jpg" /></a> .<br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><strong>Aged walls crumble</strong></span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><strong>as earth reclaims its own...we </strong></span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><strong>are but fleeting here…</strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Courier New;">.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Courier New;">.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><strong>This photo of Lincoln Castle was taken during a trip to England in 2007. </strong></span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><strong>While the castle has stood for centuries, it is certain that time will return it to the earth.</strong></span></em></div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">I am linking this post to the Thursday Think Tank Prompt at Poets United. For poems that inspire, do visit the link below. Many thanks to Robert Lloyd for hosting this fine site...</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center"><a href="http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/">http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/</a></div><div align="center"></div></div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-89842085775987271522010-09-02T17:56:00.000-07:002010-09-02T18:29:35.520-07:00Looking at Whistler Skies.<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJUFe3Iib6v0F96pUndunxOK82gIpo0z2qgorIMmm44LsOClAxKZu7Sy5mYQBSf_vom4hwDnC6Q8wOZRKDB8enN10PLKol8KyyKwrnVwOurcSI-pu1kY-eGB9XVu2uSdRhIIdZFgeqxG8/s1600/a.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 204px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512163429868285202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJUFe3Iib6v0F96pUndunxOK82gIpo0z2qgorIMmm44LsOClAxKZu7Sy5mYQBSf_vom4hwDnC6Q8wOZRKDB8enN10PLKol8KyyKwrnVwOurcSI-pu1kY-eGB9XVu2uSdRhIIdZFgeqxG8/s320/a.jpg" /></a><br /></div><div align="center">This past weekend my husband and I took a longer-than-usual Sunday drive, doing a round trip of four hundred kilometers to play tourist on Whistler Mountain for the day!<br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdOBJoQRAFBmwphr8QS5UzgLLFGKd03ts_0clhudpF6Lv3VbwACATbtb3qZW7NUuF2nkVt3Z39VgXgsbEBlVMsDTm57bi98Rtg1Z4yy4kaSJAdz28pc_IQL-1fKMl12haayqmErToTL2I/s1600/b.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512163422396071250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdOBJoQRAFBmwphr8QS5UzgLLFGKd03ts_0clhudpF6Lv3VbwACATbtb3qZW7NUuF2nkVt3Z39VgXgsbEBlVMsDTm57bi98Rtg1Z4yy4kaSJAdz28pc_IQL-1fKMl12haayqmErToTL2I/s320/b.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUZ4TANuqVDYLaUOsKU-uIRdWamICrETuzvm8413d7Z_k7AqJn7AtGw6cbqzezOPhTqU92_81omXPCpsw1DHy3V6Pj5dfC9fPGalt8EBMx1QhU0H4eQyfq8e172hgbu-C8cdbvfDr8kK8/s1600/c.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512162880311138578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUZ4TANuqVDYLaUOsKU-uIRdWamICrETuzvm8413d7Z_k7AqJn7AtGw6cbqzezOPhTqU92_81omXPCpsw1DHy3V6Pj5dfC9fPGalt8EBMx1QhU0H4eQyfq8e172hgbu-C8cdbvfDr8kK8/s320/c.jpg" /></a>If you watched any of the 2010 Winter Olympic Games held this February in Vancouver, you would have seen many televised events from the ski hills and sled runs of Whistler. .</div><div align="center">.<br />Getting up to Whistler Mountain was always a challenge. A precarious two-lane road hugged the hillsides too tightly for comfort and the sheer drops on the open side gave<br />many a passenger pause on the return trip! </div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfxHmMmnS__9B2KybHJi2XCp8IhXKbxFTAR96MRvvCBi7qRkXWNwt_KwR7xzPsh5aSlOd9PdWk6viiZKl-NyMs3wcCScL83IetthDthh_-kE7p-VlckTt16TozU54bq1jwUt7SFPhOdcw/s1600/e.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 204px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512161995317027650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfxHmMmnS__9B2KybHJi2XCp8IhXKbxFTAR96MRvvCBi7qRkXWNwt_KwR7xzPsh5aSlOd9PdWk6viiZKl-NyMs3wcCScL83IetthDthh_-kE7p-VlckTt16TozU54bq1jwUt7SFPhOdcw/s320/e.jpg" /></a> .<br /></div><div align="center">Snow and falling rock closed the road with some frequency…and the endlessly twisting road was never a joy to drive in the dark.<br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF23W4_9xTG634APno2O6UELH1EylCJ6xAxWkidvMl1Gupbg6GlkJv6fIhp3-0iDSxo-0b_rHuLjrMat0mQyrhlxN94ErE7trpGXm4Ldq0xs69SlO4EwtbTvJthqfIoRjwZXbCkkoGA68/s1600/f.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 202px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512161991506229666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF23W4_9xTG634APno2O6UELH1EylCJ6xAxWkidvMl1Gupbg6GlkJv6fIhp3-0iDSxo-0b_rHuLjrMat0mQyrhlxN94ErE7trpGXm4Ldq0xs69SlO4EwtbTvJthqfIoRjwZXbCkkoGA68/s320/f.jpg" /></a><br /><br />All this changed with the announcement that Vancouver was getting the Olympics. Work began on the new Sea-To-Sky Highway, with its extra lanes and added security features. </div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYtplpMAlC0BknVZpWnqgp9cQoyB5N-W-UGhPYMo8PoqZHYL4lGeruGlpoKqHCbh2cB5J-c-Hj42QlxOcthZB-lRe4eTzyuqkbS443noLp57MWao7j7Nw8kp-OIJW99dUjReqqpDRuh20/s1600/g.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512161035877053090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYtplpMAlC0BknVZpWnqgp9cQoyB5N-W-UGhPYMo8PoqZHYL4lGeruGlpoKqHCbh2cB5J-c-Hj42QlxOcthZB-lRe4eTzyuqkbS443noLp57MWao7j7Nw8kp-OIJW99dUjReqqpDRuh20/s320/g.jpg" /></a>.</div><div align="center">Now it is a joy to drive, although still challenging in the winter, and the scenery is quite stunningly beautiful. It was a wonderfully moody day, weather-wise, when we went, and my camera seemed always to be pointing at the sky, torn as it was between sun and cloud...<br />.<br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTyKx12SBc6NBlqoAWBK-DUpXkU-WjT2IRBAmvvAQZFRoGi29Hp1iO53QoHPB57y7pUuEA3SvNzjpMV5TISrsn7chyphenhyphenFrDi41WDlRZQDmRASdi98URay_zrGeGeuuYlvMOBWa5kfzv5vjE/s1600/h.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 211px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512161021767789474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTyKx12SBc6NBlqoAWBK-DUpXkU-WjT2IRBAmvvAQZFRoGi29Hp1iO53QoHPB57y7pUuEA3SvNzjpMV5TISrsn7chyphenhyphenFrDi41WDlRZQDmRASdi98URay_zrGeGeuuYlvMOBWa5kfzv5vjE/s320/h.jpg" /></a><br /><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">I’m posting my favourites for this week’s ‘Looking At The Sky Friday’, graciously hosted by CrAzY Working Mom at the link below. Do stop by for skies that will inspire!<br />.<br /></span></strong></em><a href="http://www.crazyworkingmom.com/"><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">http://www.crazyworkingmom.com/</span></strong></em></a> <img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 210px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512160618921901522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAEs1BKTrzcorDztW4H9sTzq1aDTwO82Z3Pp7z_jqMlNdBmRC-kNDtMoK-BlJyNRDOnGg_8eYSVmxMxf89QFWnXjNRQ2op75SvNMadkcR5q7LX8lO7oYaAkCHu-cJ_og0LHGBs_FjU7bc/s320/i.jpg" /><br /><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">I have also put a few Whistler photos on my main blog, ‘Imagination Lane’, for the ‘Project Genesis’ forum. If you would like to check these pics out or learn more about the eco-friendly ‘Project Genesis’, do follow this link:<br /><br /></span></strong></em><a href="http://imaginationlane.blogspot.com/2010/08/project-genesis-iii.html"><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">http://imaginationlane.blogspot.com/2010/08/project-genesis-iii.html</span></strong></em></a><br /><br />.</div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-47068102094636799192010-08-29T09:26:00.000-07:002011-02-18T13:57:29.902-08:00The Giant's Causeway<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheVpZeLRUqF5XBEcBs8uWtT9FWRe6NY6kHpf204dbjijwxqntz-qulRYvU5YL185Qyd7MK6kLkj-5jVcoArevZkG4bNGiJc9DcXOR56xeNHFWDsCjjteyUaqnTglub7t7d-wZdrHuEeaA/s1600/1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511716105431987010" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheVpZeLRUqF5XBEcBs8uWtT9FWRe6NY6kHpf204dbjijwxqntz-qulRYvU5YL185Qyd7MK6kLkj-5jVcoArevZkG4bNGiJc9DcXOR56xeNHFWDsCjjteyUaqnTglub7t7d-wZdrHuEeaA/s320/1.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center">I had visited the Giant’s Causeway in County Antrim during my childhood in Northern Ireland. I clearly remember being enthralled by its strange and magical shapes, so on a return trip almost fifty years later, it became first on my list of things to revisit.<br /></div><div><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 213px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511612661130179698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3GA7W0xZP8wwAia75tKgQDrL0aZjoJ7clOh0T9EVkndtmwRJ-kTOasVhthriF-owhdEtTAtZs7N0JiuFT5UGVAtBZMLZLkktQ1UrzQwHA478fZUavzf_KM5rDvFaYvB3rtaRT7ceI7lI/s320/2.jpg" /><br /><br /><div align="center">The Causeway<br />is renowned for its polygonal columns of<br />layered basalt, the result of a volcanic eruption 60 million years ago. Lava welling up through fissures in the chalk bed and quickly cooling formed the famous amphitheatres of hexagonal columns in the Causeway.<img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511612325772683042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi19ybkxqkSkOGC2EAXboYCjwjR1koCJansEI6F-dCMOXY6kKMo_MKyvbB9xAAPaf-jGCN3GIYfbAwmyh6yur1ReZRqF1YdTBrrwdH5CdHyGmECEHNP3Mxt-i1hSlJM9pgVQRB8xO4foyE/s320/3.jpg" /><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihLeYs3fFzxdBT8eQGR3pAdszWLdAR8YoFhdFDj9-AmBhvTvL8mJvmjyHVjKL2OsqRaWM_jXebkm__rXtfKQRaWGisu8RGkvAMeVjNR3ccJRC1TY7Wc8hsQ3Z92jV5Icl2q5PgHxHTeNg/s1600/4.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511612175134325970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihLeYs3fFzxdBT8eQGR3pAdszWLdAR8YoFhdFDj9-AmBhvTvL8mJvmjyHVjKL2OsqRaWM_jXebkm__rXtfKQRaWGisu8RGkvAMeVjNR3ccJRC1TY7Wc8hsQ3Z92jV5Icl2q5PgHxHTeNg/s320/4.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNKic6OY9VAuMOzNlIqZMGqua8P85c1vtaWkQjzGkY3gwJnrwxmvtyY2zpz1E953SAEuAaj60-D41S-5r56v1bxjkNAJ5CHhbVdh3dtQaVRKeEy9-3yR5rLWVkeKMQ4JytTV-OTEO_GnQ/s1600/5.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511612058862989842" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNKic6OY9VAuMOzNlIqZMGqua8P85c1vtaWkQjzGkY3gwJnrwxmvtyY2zpz1E953SAEuAaj60-D41S-5r56v1bxjkNAJ5CHhbVdh3dtQaVRKeEy9-3yR5rLWVkeKMQ4JytTV-OTEO_GnQ/s320/5.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div><div></div><div align="center">Today, the Giant’s Causeway is UNESCO’s only World Heritage Site in Northern Ireland and it is managed by the National Trust.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 293px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511611685957883842" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1l87V6_rFjE-F-Ilf-FU6oGGZEqThuCLeWYSH3WU9BEMx9Pb9qLC7PQpSM_IkRxh1KMa1nBf33MMVD50CJFr7a3hM6GNgwNd5h4ZBI49msckoJBi3xroN6TPbHEtUeFDITZIzF-fW6Qs/s400/5+Large.jpg" /> <em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">A very special memory for me: my sister on one side, my husband on the other, and the North Atlantic crashing loudly into the rocks around us! This is a moment in time I will hold in my heart forever.</span></strong></em> </div><div align="center">(Photo by Troy Bell)<br /></div><div align="right"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPRsEIz8gQ2-ugAiS5wQV0R7oo-O5RZSp9KtVeTPIKIGl9yPmtTkfGHMeJH8beso76zu4u9tFMydMAJtjP5kjkmu3rut1_dtfZH8EYgSYgLkSFgqxITY4bUJtamNaRezAnvU2I_KwZ01s/s1600/7.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 127px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511611596322438562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPRsEIz8gQ2-ugAiS5wQV0R7oo-O5RZSp9KtVeTPIKIGl9yPmtTkfGHMeJH8beso76zu4u9tFMydMAJtjP5kjkmu3rut1_dtfZH8EYgSYgLkSFgqxITY4bUJtamNaRezAnvU2I_KwZ01s/s200/7.jpg" /></a><br />Of course, this is Ireland we’re talking about, and science is not the only possible explanation for this curious landscape! Legend has it that the giant Finn McCool lived on these shores many years ago, and repeatedly tossed insults across the sea with another giant called Benendonner. One day Finn decided to go to Scotland and destroy the foul-mouthed Scot once and for all. He tossed huge columns of stone into the water to build a Causeway, (which also appears on the coast of Scotland). In this way, Finn approached his opponent quietly…and then just as quietly, turned and rushed home once he saw that the other giant was so much bigger than him.<br /></div><br /><div align="right"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq8e0um6Vn4mWdboRDiIbfWCZEULDzYdNnhGCXzEpeK2n0s6IsfBdwPF2VcWxW1vRpp8FmC1SM6aEKnvryKSXz3oPWZ8XZA0kafuCl1r0nSoLAwLrUCeAA0T7UngNsUIShcfaBLRx0v3A/s1600/8+small.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 138px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511611442745910674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq8e0um6Vn4mWdboRDiIbfWCZEULDzYdNnhGCXzEpeK2n0s6IsfBdwPF2VcWxW1vRpp8FmC1SM6aEKnvryKSXz3oPWZ8XZA0kafuCl1r0nSoLAwLrUCeAA0T7UngNsUIShcfaBLRx0v3A/s200/8+small.jpg" /></a> <strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Finn MacCool</span></em></strong><br /></div><br /><div align="center">Benandonner noticed the Causeway and, in turn, decided to go to Ireland to take care of his haughty opponent. When Finn saw him approaching he was terrified, but his wife Oonagh had a brilliant idea. She dressed Finn as a baby and put him down as if to sleep. When Benandonner arrived and declared his intentions, Oonagh asked him to wait around until Finn returned from a supposed hunting trip. In the meantime she asked him to help her feed “the baby”. When Benandonner saw the size of “the baby” he was terrified as he wondered how big the father would be. He therefore excused himself and in horror hurried back to Scotland tearing up the Causeway on the way to ensure his safety. Henceforth the two giants lived happily ever after in their respective lands and never again hurled abuse at each other.</div><div align="center">.<br />Believe whichever story you wish, but should you get to Northern Ireland, I guarantee you too, will fall under the enchantment of the Giant's Causeway!<br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgszpUVCY_fOIoHNBQ0Kf6Mo9zpBHux8WqerhQpWtRYBHYTU0gu_FPVDg_XZL26ZqzKnWI61mdkPGB8tRaPOhxD-FxnJ-5rK3PLZVnV1kqd0Y1abWIhpArYrmCdGSa-J-FfouIqRUdfuro/s1600/9.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511611350900092882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgszpUVCY_fOIoHNBQ0Kf6Mo9zpBHux8WqerhQpWtRYBHYTU0gu_FPVDg_XZL26ZqzKnWI61mdkPGB8tRaPOhxD-FxnJ-5rK3PLZVnV1kqd0Y1abWIhpArYrmCdGSa-J-FfouIqRUdfuro/s320/9.jpg" /></a><br />I'm linking this post to Watery Wednesday! For more photos that are damp, doused and drenched check out the link </div><div align="center">below.</div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://waterywednesday.blogspot.com/">http://waterywednesday.blogspot.com/</a> </div></div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-65228555560081564192010-08-25T20:58:00.000-07:002011-02-18T13:58:03.839-08:00Sedona Skies<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl_XhnrggYFieXq4U4Mr8ssNedlZDJg5ZvWuoB9ncBGmyEy9j0aVL-HPYSsK2190CZVCypgBg0ksdFccVDa07-2OVyTCglv-bjNfLFjyN948iRCOo__gkmFlAl8D5qdI7-XVsro820xpM/s1600/1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 250px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509935710926772098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl_XhnrggYFieXq4U4Mr8ssNedlZDJg5ZvWuoB9ncBGmyEy9j0aVL-HPYSsK2190CZVCypgBg0ksdFccVDa07-2OVyTCglv-bjNfLFjyN948iRCOo__gkmFlAl8D5qdI7-XVsro820xpM/s400/1.jpg" /></a><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFPuHXhHbRvbSxg6SxQm9VeWVXDtbxW39rZ0Kg_qUgnSyJaWynhhZ9w1Fvz0-A8RRF1ZKnUoKsi5luhkP53-gtREV5HeF3YQXg3RF8el1xlZfyf_zGULUa4sDbNSOfk5KWb-TM977jH4I/s1600/2.jpg"></a><p align="center"><br /><br /><br /><br />I am in love with Sedona,<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1GXcKTyzjGauDckK9YOBUHCG6UjW_XUvr2yMRnWwqwCVGGlKqFAot5hJHaNx77wuoa1N_xn0ia4nk0QlzfN0gupudN9WaESl36Aa4yNwOmv3k1lzrgtXCG-B6bLB_YaNKI74yRU9vRic/s1600/3.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 206px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509935375579107874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1GXcKTyzjGauDckK9YOBUHCG6UjW_XUvr2yMRnWwqwCVGGlKqFAot5hJHaNx77wuoa1N_xn0ia4nk0QlzfN0gupudN9WaESl36Aa4yNwOmv3k1lzrgtXCG-B6bLB_YaNKI74yRU9vRic/s320/3.jpg" /></a><br />where endless skies stretch on forever to form the perfect backdrop for peaks so brilliantly tinged with red that they take one's breath away. </p><div align="center">.<br /></div><div align="center">The skies are mercurial..from minute to minute they dazzle and change with the brilliance of every hue one can possibly imagine.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisRXo_-sLA_sDKfQdsrIdCFKzLd41JuVzxSU0D5Dn6eS0XqnNds245CrhBtg9BSCq2TKpR2OL4spULzam52n8N7RqJep-KMQlw81fgq_1x3eC-WFnVT05SAdFD5prYC7kuEwCJWjJC5Bg/s1600/4.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 212px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509935367698974530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisRXo_-sLA_sDKfQdsrIdCFKzLd41JuVzxSU0D5Dn6eS0XqnNds245CrhBtg9BSCq2TKpR2OL4spULzam52n8N7RqJep-KMQlw81fgq_1x3eC-WFnVT05SAdFD5prYC7kuEwCJWjJC5Bg/s320/4.jpg" /></a><br />.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Unlikely athough it seems, the photos on this page were taken over the course of a single overnight stay. To say one night was not enough is an understatement. Sedona's hills, her whisper-soft air and brilliant skies seem to me what heaven must be like. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE36N1rVuY76YqSVs6CpyBR6dtgsteBiDk4J39cH4lgkh2MREmnhJAB6iEXNtiw7yUMPxBxGbJDMpqe4EwE7WjYV4TtCPg8diiZ0c_zPrMpPJyJrlXXqHUdiQElSTJDQBoOSmV38RTUwk/s1600/5.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 212px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509934944282950786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE36N1rVuY76YqSVs6CpyBR6dtgsteBiDk4J39cH4lgkh2MREmnhJAB6iEXNtiw7yUMPxBxGbJDMpqe4EwE7WjYV4TtCPg8diiZ0c_zPrMpPJyJrlXXqHUdiQElSTJDQBoOSmV38RTUwk/s320/5.jpg" /></a><br />.</div><div align="center">We are heading back to the<br />Southwest for an autumn trip...its lure </div><div align="center">remains irresistable </div><div align="center">to me.<br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCiR-46J5TZGTO3oK4J5w2SzZQxoRXcCbY7GVymomm-5UOvpenH2dMjgqeySLcoehKTGOxB_8L715up1vL9_h7BF_WpOeTZEqp9s-NOovMG8-UG-5XfTpLWi-v8IAorB796yY3VZc_zq0/s1600/6.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 202px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509934936216968242" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCiR-46J5TZGTO3oK4J5w2SzZQxoRXcCbY7GVymomm-5UOvpenH2dMjgqeySLcoehKTGOxB_8L715up1vL9_h7BF_WpOeTZEqp9s-NOovMG8-UG-5XfTpLWi-v8IAorB796yY3VZc_zq0/s320/6.jpg" /></a></div><div align="center"><br />My camera and I can hardly wait...<br />there are many more pictures to take!<br /></div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center"><em>.</em></div><div align="center"><em>.</em></div><div align="center"><em>.</em></div><div align="center"><em>I am linking this post to Looking At The Sky on Friday, graciously hosted by CrAzY Working Mom at the link below. Do stop by for skies that inspire! </em></div><div align="center"><em>.</em></div><div align="center"><a href="http://www.crazyworkingmom.com/"><em>http://www.crazyworkingmom.com/</em></a></div><div align="center">.</div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-17466430677686321222010-08-19T08:29:00.000-07:002010-08-19T09:54:39.143-07:00Haiku For The Jade Buddha<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2EmZhe5sDQ1AH7GFiBMDecqcnGa7VEZvOhMucpcCLM1kg2bGSwuUD665m504eb8iMoVS-0JmP1frHr2D3t_DO698CY17J3Io1oocE5zQ1nBvqbZIi7NJeTuUiWuWqj2QGsBTpJrkdrvo/s1600/1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 267px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507156873858834338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2EmZhe5sDQ1AH7GFiBMDecqcnGa7VEZvOhMucpcCLM1kg2bGSwuUD665m504eb8iMoVS-0JmP1frHr2D3t_DO698CY17J3Io1oocE5zQ1nBvqbZIi7NJeTuUiWuWqj2QGsBTpJrkdrvo/s400/1.jpg" /></a><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLRFqL9AFO4qi93hrLYl83_u7za4Qu4kriah-VgsLDljgY49WekU-epwwrvLg4oViiWSm2XU-6asTepD_9yEjK3tQCfmwS7SjIjQ4nEf58Gv-e2rlyCT2xPwbEN5pQqBZl5ff0e-n7H9M/s1600/2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 188px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507156673982058242" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLRFqL9AFO4qi93hrLYl83_u7za4Qu4kriah-VgsLDljgY49WekU-epwwrvLg4oViiWSm2XU-6asTepD_9yEjK3tQCfmwS7SjIjQ4nEf58Gv-e2rlyCT2xPwbEN5pQqBZl5ff0e-n7H9M/s320/2.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div align="center">Gentle Jade Buddha,</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">born of our hope that we might</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">put an end to war...<br /></div>.<br /><div align="center"><em>~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~</em></div><div align="center"><em></em></div><div align="center"><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">The Jade Buddha for Universal Peace is carved from a solid block of perfect jade. The Buddha is on tour throughout major world cities before settling into a permanent home in The Great Stupa of Universal Compassion in Bendigo, Australia. </span></strong></em><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv8Vx6q190WB2ly6rBtHsQ4sW4Iu0volMBQHDdkwCAPvZeqHauCyKj_JK6xYIWzWzToHThGlF8sJuFQ_aycOFTJQnsSPq6_GDXJAQ-xZetLWJtQVmGCBVz_WNr5s1x88pstViUcPjEZPE/s1600/3.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 253px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507156531744737154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv8Vx6q190WB2ly6rBtHsQ4sW4Iu0volMBQHDdkwCAPvZeqHauCyKj_JK6xYIWzWzToHThGlF8sJuFQ_aycOFTJQnsSPq6_GDXJAQ-xZetLWJtQVmGCBVz_WNr5s1x88pstViUcPjEZPE/s400/3.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>At a monastery just outside Vancouver, BC, I was fortunate enough to sit before him in a moment of contemplation.<br /><br />.</strong></span></em></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">.</span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><br />The Jade Buddha asks us to reflect upon peace, irrespective of our religion…peace for our friends, for our families and workmates…and peace in our own hearts and minds.</strong></span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>.</strong></span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong></strong></span></em></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">.</span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>In this manner, joy can win out over anger, and we may at last find our way to</strong> <strong>peace in the world.<br /></strong></span></em><em><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong></div></strong></span></em><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVBik0rpwR7itzw0DAk_7E-OPSpzJKSX2iwtqS5ISl158gdf9A0adgFulKttec6qcW0io2Eo9wwLWGYauER6lTASzk6kxXiaa2zeh7XuyQu5MJZmlLRdo5CXRZ4oDQ3FUicceJVtIA0gY/s1600/4.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 161px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507156238558038178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVBik0rpwR7itzw0DAk_7E-OPSpzJKSX2iwtqS5ISl158gdf9A0adgFulKttec6qcW0io2Eo9wwLWGYauER6lTASzk6kxXiaa2zeh7XuyQu5MJZmlLRdo5CXRZ4oDQ3FUicceJVtIA0gY/s320/4.jpg" /></a><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Namaste...</span></strong></em><br /><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>I am linking this post to The Thursday Think Tank at Poets United. My thanks to Robert for wonderful words and much inspiration</strong>...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center"><a href="http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2010/08/thursday-think-tank-prompt-11.html">http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2010/08/thursday-think-tank-prompt-11.html</a></div><div align="center">.</div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-82527074817325804222010-08-15T10:04:00.000-07:002010-09-09T08:07:47.116-07:00In Glasgow Cathedral<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM0QlPAXXzMizc1wx7vRgTA15TS9oC6_0YuyyhCgm1YWpMKZBrrMIorumKG5rJgBGlV0P1LdcB6sFGhaDzd1gjQoJynh-EPOBzEKYSB-FIBuLCka1jycD24K9HfDD3pHKORuFQEq_zFI4/s1600/Steps.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 218px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468324595313735106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM0QlPAXXzMizc1wx7vRgTA15TS9oC6_0YuyyhCgm1YWpMKZBrrMIorumKG5rJgBGlV0P1LdcB6sFGhaDzd1gjQoJynh-EPOBzEKYSB-FIBuLCka1jycD24K9HfDD3pHKORuFQEq_zFI4/s320/Steps.jpg" /></a></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><strong>.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"><strong>Ancient steps worn smooth...<br /></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"><strong>a constant quest to touch the </strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><strong><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><strong><span style="font-size:100%;">Light of holy grace...<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;">.</strong></span></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><em><strong>Medieval Glasgow Cathedral survived the Reformation intact and remains in active use today. While it's known to have one of the finest collection of stained-glass windows in post-war Britain, it was the stone steps, worn down by centuries of supplicants, that captured my heart's eye. </strong></em></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">I<span style="font-size:85%;"> am linking this post to the Thursday Think Tank Prompt at Poets United. For poems that inspire, do visit the link below. Many thanks to Robert Lloyd for hosting this fine site...</span><br /></span>.<br /><a href="http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/">http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/</a></span></strong></div><div align="center"> </div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-1677523888414267702010-08-13T20:56:00.000-07:002011-02-18T13:58:45.524-08:00Haiku For A Lion<div align="center">.</div><div align="center">While I have not yet joined Poets United, their Thurdsay Think Tank Prompt this week asked its writers to explore 'eyes'. This haiku came to mind...</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDzNORSk2DGYjehtlNZ14s7RZbS0mGpXaD8n3ThxrySYc1irzjPKXSB9uD7nWPiCGscLvKQi44yjNAzGi6EZPaLO1rOZaiSaaOKTgg22Z5tmpQOJesu4MCDp5qqQxf82Bqq0Rt9YJTaDg/s1600/Lion+tawny.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 263px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504743594126432562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDzNORSk2DGYjehtlNZ14s7RZbS0mGpXaD8n3ThxrySYc1irzjPKXSB9uD7nWPiCGscLvKQi44yjNAzGi6EZPaLO1rOZaiSaaOKTgg22Z5tmpQOJesu4MCDp5qqQxf82Bqq0Rt9YJTaDg/s400/Lion+tawny.jpg" /></a></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">Tawny eyes meet mine,<br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">and hold…golden grass shimmers, </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">time ceases to be…</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><em><strong><span style="font-family:times new roman;">.</span></strong></em></div><div align="center"><em><strong><span style="font-family:times new roman;">For a brief, wonderful moment, I locked eyes with this young lion on the Serengeti Plain...</span></strong></em></div><div align="center"><strong><em>.</em></strong></div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-19949960452820621992010-08-07T10:30:00.001-07:002010-09-09T15:14:48.202-07:00A City Divided<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Ya2-w6hkUIjnMRFG3Zx5YHGtnpv9TJvXH5VikCAAKm12ctylGd0ea_Yo0eykTxWR6TP2y_SN-sShxJAY6ap_l0U8cDxFghMDSmGwDd89mitKdtTJ2VgnT8MOLqSY0co3P2UhAiq70PA/s1600/1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 210px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502726235179397602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Ya2-w6hkUIjnMRFG3Zx5YHGtnpv9TJvXH5VikCAAKm12ctylGd0ea_Yo0eykTxWR6TP2y_SN-sShxJAY6ap_l0U8cDxFghMDSmGwDd89mitKdtTJ2VgnT8MOLqSY0co3P2UhAiq70PA/s320/1.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center">A ‘Peace Line’ cuts the capital city of Northern Ireland in half. Euphemistically named, it is actually a series of twenty-six walls of brick and corrugated iron that separate the Catholic and Protestant communities in Belfast. It was built in the tumultuous years of religious and political strife known as the Troubles, but even today, gates in the walls are locked each evening and every weekend.</div><div align="center">.<br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1YrwR5sV-sSFvkiWDMalv66_GvH7jVrRshDhFUtWJsfWVZuqt0Zq6o1ltl-9pixU9rNOFHOLcGsw32t12gjajNPN23Nrgbg-GSs0KEgoOyfuyq2yyN2rsP9bCAr0yeLhyE7-uLK9OxWA/s1600/1+(1).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502725791685959634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1YrwR5sV-sSFvkiWDMalv66_GvH7jVrRshDhFUtWJsfWVZuqt0Zq6o1ltl-9pixU9rNOFHOLcGsw32t12gjajNPN23Nrgbg-GSs0KEgoOyfuyq2yyN2rsP9bCAr0yeLhyE7-uLK9OxWA/s320/1+(1).jpg" /></a><br />Tour guides are quick to point out that it’s best to stay with one’s own, and take no risks going into areas where a welcome is not assured.<br />It is the familiar mantra of my childhood, made all the more chilling by decades of strife that have made this division worse, not better.</div><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHg04ILzGQvJW1Qv-gDmsb9U5z7ppMxMKf_iy6Zhy-MN2YKS_6l5ruDEVhTSnRRhpkFFel6ZXw7lFwMiKn7JavePP2s26DTKc-9bhcCNK0i74Ch_6TPPmsWwKqC3kDCLOWUTwapoSQvA4/s1600/1+(2).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 168px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502725781882912658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHg04ILzGQvJW1Qv-gDmsb9U5z7ppMxMKf_iy6Zhy-MN2YKS_6l5ruDEVhTSnRRhpkFFel6ZXw7lFwMiKn7JavePP2s26DTKc-9bhcCNK0i74Ch_6TPPmsWwKqC3kDCLOWUTwapoSQvA4/s320/1+(2).jpg" /></a> On a visit to my birth city three years ago, I was devastated to see the damage that’s been done in the name of liberation. In thirty plus years of civil war, the city has ceased to grow. Though my first time back in many years, I might have stepped off a bus anywhere and found my way to the town centre, so little has the city grown in size.</div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX3aE7HioGRwe4mKrbm3uUWNp5W3F501B3FmbsWoocYou_pnXyHhLXkyqIKy25DwMk-YgU-DqvudNCTH8qN4ckUbjGm0Yk56CGOWGKMBXgdpbJoTjjwEbX5mavUnn3JCEeAQiaGPDYUNA/s1600/1+(3).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 186px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502724850374115314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX3aE7HioGRwe4mKrbm3uUWNp5W3F501B3FmbsWoocYou_pnXyHhLXkyqIKy25DwMk-YgU-DqvudNCTH8qN4ckUbjGm0Yk56CGOWGKMBXgdpbJoTjjwEbX5mavUnn3JCEeAQiaGPDYUNA/s320/1+(3).jpg" /></a> .<br />The ravages of time are evident on every street. The ubiquitous Peace Line fences abruptly end streets, and<br />are boldly marked with sectarian graffiti.<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5tdjwz4_iyEYCgJ1Ym6Ohr-O7FubgfcMHORHHG7-PeVkYOeHUVNFTl3BXHIewD2RiDd8BUF85O_MnQJuArtLGYBpCsz2025dXn6Pj-pNcbH9VjonSuoj781qkfnTeYLkWdL7rwDGKlRw/s1600/1+(4).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 198px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502724841923014914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5tdjwz4_iyEYCgJ1Ym6Ohr-O7FubgfcMHORHHG7-PeVkYOeHUVNFTl3BXHIewD2RiDd8BUF85O_MnQJuArtLGYBpCsz2025dXn6Pj-pNcbH9VjonSuoj781qkfnTeYLkWdL7rwDGKlRw/s320/1+(4).jpg" /></a> .<br />.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">On a rain-soaked day, we drove past Divis Tower, situated by the fence that separates the opposing factions of the Falls Road and the Shankill Road. It is the sixth tallest building in Belfast...in the Seventies, the British Army occupied the top two floors. It was a hot spot during the Troubles, particulary after an Army sniper at the top shot and killed an IRA member on the ground below.<br /><br />Ruin is to be found everywhere.</div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl0ICYjjrYzHsgbpJVKSZKrqkPsEMUmIigySkCNI4FVG9_b-MNiYivjgchX-dMPry3rNabCbNR5tY89MB-DIpW8bDA7EvYUtU2EhkVTH7AIXu6CEmT5inkrYyOHWNAefSe1D3AjiDGoj4/s1600/1+(6).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 182px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502724433805709058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl0ICYjjrYzHsgbpJVKSZKrqkPsEMUmIigySkCNI4FVG9_b-MNiYivjgchX-dMPry3rNabCbNR5tY89MB-DIpW8bDA7EvYUtU2EhkVTH7AIXu6CEmT5inkrYyOHWNAefSe1D3AjiDGoj4/s320/1+(6).jpg" /></a></div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">The Crumlin Road Courthouse was designed by architect, Charlie Lanyon.</div><div align="center">.<br /></div><div align="center">A stunningly beautiful building, it closed its doors in 1998, and sits unused behind a tall fence topped with barbed wire.<br />.<br /><br />Everything about Belfast has been changed by the fighting. Today, it resembles nothing more than a war zone. Indeed, it brings to mind the Israeli Apartheid Wall between Israel and Palestinian West Bank, which has its own bloody history of confrontation. The similarities are patently obvious, and equally distressing. When will we start breaking down walls, not building more? When will human life become more important than religious differences or property lines? I don’t have an answer, but I know we must find one.<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtteCteTSn87RLV_r793KLjKEoVVTKnX7tVASnqV2hnl4Dek_1eulvayhJA-CDjRYbVrLZ49Bf-knj8b4OHdUsi6rjRD7n3WLfZKvkL4STxKt1DuSJMJBrlfr4r4OQzVPZTWFd8b2dcHw/s1600/1+(8).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502723867025372338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtteCteTSn87RLV_r793KLjKEoVVTKnX7tVASnqV2hnl4Dek_1eulvayhJA-CDjRYbVrLZ49Bf-knj8b4OHdUsi6rjRD7n3WLfZKvkL4STxKt1DuSJMJBrlfr4r4OQzVPZTWFd8b2dcHw/s320/1+(8).jpg" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><strong><em></em></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><strong><em>Israeli Apartheid Wall<br /></em></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><strong><em>http://mondediplo.com/2010/01/20palestine<br /></em></strong></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG9lIHhXF9vSv4Uv3Eclz-R1wfFrfLrcNqKnTvVBvcJUF0t6t-7trAk5ZGb1KiiqT6C6Uhxy_IH0Sbz1abzQNi9ir999IhC7JcHlYcZc2LBpmOj0TWoQe5B_aw4XetsgQvcNfricQliFA/s1600/1+(7).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 198px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502723857986914162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG9lIHhXF9vSv4Uv3Eclz-R1wfFrfLrcNqKnTvVBvcJUF0t6t-7trAk5ZGb1KiiqT6C6Uhxy_IH0Sbz1abzQNi9ir999IhC7JcHlYcZc2LBpmOj0TWoQe5B_aw4XetsgQvcNfricQliFA/s320/1+(7).jpg" /></a><br /><strong><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><em>Belfast Murals Wall<br /></em></span></strong><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihkfq_D67HuoMDf-gijXAQt2ygQ8BRSNU5BqpUysJz1EKcH6sBrc6jQJd2gxMG7iL_MtGe0J3WCn2jsc2D-uxAdxCd-A9Lub_TOLy6jrMu1_cLMAcvnkokMrOKiIjsRXmEYPtMxwGxFFA/s1600/1+(9).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 207px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502723282965921602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihkfq_D67HuoMDf-gijXAQt2ygQ8BRSNU5BqpUysJz1EKcH6sBrc6jQJd2gxMG7iL_MtGe0J3WCn2jsc2D-uxAdxCd-A9Lub_TOLy6jrMu1_cLMAcvnkokMrOKiIjsRXmEYPtMxwGxFFA/s320/1+(9).jpg" /></a><br /><br />We are a planet in crisis. No longer do we have the luxury, or the promise, of pristine air and bountiful food for all. As a species, we are using up resources at a faster rate than they can be replenished. Greed and selfishness have become the driving forces that threaten our children’s futures, and put the whole world in peril. This is not a time to divide, but to unify. We are one family on earth, no matter which God we chose to follow,<br />and like a family, must trust one another and work together to heal our weary world. . </div><div align="center">.<br />At the end of our first day in Belfast, still reeling with shock at the desecration of my beloved city, we took a stroll along the banks of the River Lagan that I’d walked so often as a child. Here, little had changed. The beautiful green hills that Ireland is known for were freshly splashed with spring rain, and the pristine river was still home to the stately swans I had always admired. As if to remind us that beauty can thrive even in the midst<br />of horror, the sun peeked through the clouds and a glorious rainbow began to form in front of our eyes.</div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdVQyE6_T8Pj7a-eu5e90CgfgnkZkuRsJXAuNxRxb6XtLeyxcdQ5kAHSzp3gyIFP6GGHWTQqnNkO8R-UN1vWsb18tNgcDsHBoNF94rNXvGZT8z7uJKp5BWhj5y9sjnPZIwdK4sjn99rC4/s1600/1+(10).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 247px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502722611270316786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdVQyE6_T8Pj7a-eu5e90CgfgnkZkuRsJXAuNxRxb6XtLeyxcdQ5kAHSzp3gyIFP6GGHWTQqnNkO8R-UN1vWsb18tNgcDsHBoNF94rNXvGZT8z7uJKp5BWhj5y9sjnPZIwdK4sjn99rC4/s400/1+(10).jpg" /></a><br />.<br /></div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">I choose to see it is a sign of things to come, an acknowledgement that dreadful damage can be undone, and reason can prevail once more.<br /><br />.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">For the sake of the world's future, I have to believe that I 'm right. </div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-87365130326533475722010-08-05T09:04:00.000-07:002011-02-18T13:59:15.944-08:00Africa's True Treasure<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrbhCshgOcvF-Hb6eZRTAvrIfOF8-tTJv8yVkZejTJ-vKwJTD2qnaaBBCQANQwyiIPTYJxeB1A7K8HmU5X5wG3yPp6OICmRU3BVJ-Ze32XzZnBDDfd2hzP1TAc3qz3KDDMTvQJX5Dxl34/s1600/1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 206px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501217632091203154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrbhCshgOcvF-Hb6eZRTAvrIfOF8-tTJv8yVkZejTJ-vKwJTD2qnaaBBCQANQwyiIPTYJxeB1A7K8HmU5X5wG3yPp6OICmRU3BVJ-Ze32XzZnBDDfd2hzP1TAc3qz3KDDMTvQJX5Dxl34/s320/1.jpg" /></a> Africa is a continent of great contrast. There is unimaginable beauty in its sweeping landscapes and soft, golden air.. and heartrending poverty evidenced by round-bellied youngsters on roadsides who stoically wait with hand outstretched to each passer-by who might offer sustenance of one sort or another.<br /></div><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtIvNFBkDMZYmJ6OnGqIvfM5AjkRlU_Vhkn6VJCIH2YxtX3o2N2rpVF-_ML63VM0GT1A23yHNbCXoUQ8Sb4Er09NqY2iCD7khTkZ1uYSSLyja-R5omI_gvBOTJEs7awsWxGiEsNaSYJFM/s1600/1+(1).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501217414352766306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtIvNFBkDMZYmJ6OnGqIvfM5AjkRlU_Vhkn6VJCIH2YxtX3o2N2rpVF-_ML63VM0GT1A23yHNbCXoUQ8Sb4Er09NqY2iCD7khTkZ1uYSSLyja-R5omI_gvBOTJEs7awsWxGiEsNaSYJFM/s320/1+(1).jpg" /></a> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="center"><br />Those children whose families can afford uniforms and fees fare better, and are able to attend school. They exit their modest dwellings, white shirts impeccable and heads high, to walk long distances on dusty roads to their classrooms.<br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8n2-64I2MTwKCNlVx8JbTv9JsTdeWqYw6-WzpRqIFxT0fhuggYUy2hk8QSqSy6z0zpqLN-21w917SgmvP_qO6xySVLA6C1MsQrkXM5ivTj1hREw4h_z8gdyEEP97UayhdUbcGxBdR4qk/s1600/1+(2).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 187px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501217193433911106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8n2-64I2MTwKCNlVx8JbTv9JsTdeWqYw6-WzpRqIFxT0fhuggYUy2hk8QSqSy6z0zpqLN-21w917SgmvP_qO6xySVLA6C1MsQrkXM5ivTj1hREw4h_z8gdyEEP97UayhdUbcGxBdR4qk/s320/1+(2).jpg" /></a><br />Many clutch containers: their first job of the day is to collect the kerosene needed to fuel lamps and cooking stoves.<br />They eye us curiously as we pass by in our safari trucks, and so often offer a smile that's wider than the sky.</div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG-SW_Pr2MkoYeOOzc5c9zqHo52PSdnzJPkqJpPyovKgWU2CAtvI-nTHfekZ67stS2KyR8PJHKKvxW8tn84gJDTDucADfvq2JoaKJZqJPU2Ir6nzbVXO0rxm-iGN6d_d5zJea4Rgm8vho/s1600/1+(3).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 188px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501217026448513490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG-SW_Pr2MkoYeOOzc5c9zqHo52PSdnzJPkqJpPyovKgWU2CAtvI-nTHfekZ67stS2KyR8PJHKKvxW8tn84gJDTDucADfvq2JoaKJZqJPU2Ir6nzbVXO0rxm-iGN6d_d5zJea4Rgm8vho/s320/1+(3).jpg" /></a><br /><br />That smile is what I wish for every child, the simple joy of a day with enough to eat, and the chance to build a better life through education. While such things are a given for most children in North America, this is not the case in Sub-Saharan Africa. I've written previously of how AIDS/HIV, corruption and war are crippling families and depriving children of a future.<br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihyphenhyphen7s0xik8Z4OuqDjunkqQS_s_XKrMLpDTd9C63fajcfhxkDAPzy1oIH3tmPSk53Z8SYaYggdeluCLNijM2jNWdITm4a7_YH7Dxp-6rr_aKlWumu8bwTAnJntvy4zMfFJ-MkbfDoWa-3A/s1600/1+(4).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 185px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501216871751513170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihyphenhyphen7s0xik8Z4OuqDjunkqQS_s_XKrMLpDTd9C63fajcfhxkDAPzy1oIH3tmPSk53Z8SYaYggdeluCLNijM2jNWdITm4a7_YH7Dxp-6rr_aKlWumu8bwTAnJntvy4zMfFJ-MkbfDoWa-3A/s320/1+(4).jpg" /></a><br /></div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">It is estimated that fifteen million orphans in Africa struggle daily to get by without parents or support systems.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">Fifteen million... </div><div align="center">.<br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Xo81_nyNb2y4tZOQ2eZdZeJ_GXLosoBt0XASI_qBQj7x8pSsYfaoZG5ksuLZb_T05swPF-VKo3sFKK2VrK1ekGlKTTli43a5pMnTmDlBM1kiy3OZJvZXAMMuNsZ1N2tD_yJA5AA4s-E/s1600/1+(5).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 218px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501216683412676658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Xo81_nyNb2y4tZOQ2eZdZeJ_GXLosoBt0XASI_qBQj7x8pSsYfaoZG5ksuLZb_T05swPF-VKo3sFKK2VrK1ekGlKTTli43a5pMnTmDlBM1kiy3OZJvZXAMMuNsZ1N2tD_yJA5AA4s-E/s320/1+(5).jpg" /></a> These beautiful children are the true treasures of the African continent. I never tire of looking at their eager faces...the expectation of children everywhere that the world will bring them joy and fulfillment.<br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9g1yu3EQl8HIU_XUhyV4Ea6tGGYg-ZEsS9Rb_8PGpJ1I_b50y4NVhyRaPrcfOA18i7SCNU_HNmxmT5fqvW8k15G4at7soq_BW3sQdXVZJKcwI7TyU9-_Lp8oabYi5jMcl6kBnNFMphIU/s1600/1+(6).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 202px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501216257060472594" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9g1yu3EQl8HIU_XUhyV4Ea6tGGYg-ZEsS9Rb_8PGpJ1I_b50y4NVhyRaPrcfOA18i7SCNU_HNmxmT5fqvW8k15G4at7soq_BW3sQdXVZJKcwI7TyU9-_Lp8oabYi5jMcl6kBnNFMphIU/s320/1+(6).jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />We must make this a world that offers every child that hope.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">I am not brilliant..I do not know how to stop the government corruption that keeps aid money from getting to the needy..or<br />how to help forgotten orphans in far-flung villages who have lost their parents and<br />grandparents to AIDS and poverty..but I know I must do something.<br />.</div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj89KnL3COny6z74Qbixwf7g4ctAWee_3b5R9Z7LuOuDp11f2ZNeEzUNjd04os7LhrKq0W9u528vwGUJnlhDzzjVT-zeoaGYtqmVY0WbiEVERl29HbZpPihlOpPuAuTG5b3mmNsbg1TnxU/s1600/1+(7).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 190px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501216144741530738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj89KnL3COny6z74Qbixwf7g4ctAWee_3b5R9Z7LuOuDp11f2ZNeEzUNjd04os7LhrKq0W9u528vwGUJnlhDzzjVT-zeoaGYtqmVY0WbiEVERl29HbZpPihlOpPuAuTG5b3mmNsbg1TnxU/s320/1+(7).jpg" /></a>I went to Africa as a tourist after years of<br />dreaming I might. I saw beauty that left me breathles, and fell in love with its many joys..but nothing touched my heart so deeply as its children.<br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8fq1lzTfBf6QS7dgItR_CzpMx0N2W1epVCq9H1jzJuOQ3NKmhyoB5ulAPF0BO2DB1vav9t5UhufVLDkGHOw1_LclMcihHuhoIX3qsHkRSvN2z6lX9Qu6mWIyWPxdzM7LYsb47Un_2JnY/s1600/1+(8).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 205px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501215939924292610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8fq1lzTfBf6QS7dgItR_CzpMx0N2W1epVCq9H1jzJuOQ3NKmhyoB5ulAPF0BO2DB1vav9t5UhufVLDkGHOw1_LclMcihHuhoIX3qsHkRSvN2z6lX9Qu6mWIyWPxdzM7LYsb47Un_2JnY/s320/1+(8).jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Children are our future. Whether here or on the other side of the world, they are our greatest treasure and our richest resource. </div><div align="center">.<br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4SXFYcCDQyQaWuV77VTzJYTgMCQAGiTt_eDyMGbPNcZSuBSoD6L-uCR6hXalXPAifo2RDZ9uEi85Q-Gq7bOUWly5TWlDv6eXtyZQLtnAFizkM7gpFJIRaDhvvXaua9CHCH5sEwh_2c0A/s1600/1+(9).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 205px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501215736409011314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4SXFYcCDQyQaWuV77VTzJYTgMCQAGiTt_eDyMGbPNcZSuBSoD6L-uCR6hXalXPAifo2RDZ9uEi85Q-Gq7bOUWly5TWlDv6eXtyZQLtnAFizkM7gpFJIRaDhvvXaua9CHCH5sEwh_2c0A/s320/1+(9).jpg" /></a><br /><br />My hope is that every child's face may shine with health and the anticipation of good things to come, no matter where they happen to live.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">Surely that's not too much to ask...is it?<br />. </div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-88359207653982846882010-07-22T07:46:00.000-07:002011-02-18T13:59:56.631-08:00The Young of Belfast<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO-PLIB4ARtbvthOkNYAbwFbpEy8dgHC-hGK_iLx-MEfZBIdqPJM-tqdM2sJ5PH5itM0UT3Yb6E7xN4TFS-tDyHFwIxYZRfRpAM9QB3G230i5P9wPotFTqwAYWzF4PD-W8QjDS6kyd_7s/s1600/B0108.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 213px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496007366745746770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO-PLIB4ARtbvthOkNYAbwFbpEy8dgHC-hGK_iLx-MEfZBIdqPJM-tqdM2sJ5PH5itM0UT3Yb6E7xN4TFS-tDyHFwIxYZRfRpAM9QB3G230i5P9wPotFTqwAYWzF4PD-W8QjDS6kyd_7s/s320/B0108.jpg" /></a> Though religious conflict was always a part of my childhood in Northern Ireland, it did not erupt into violence and death until after we had emigrated to Canada. From across the sea, I watched in horror as the Troubles escalated and families lost their children, their security and their way of life. I have always been grateful that I did not have to raise my sons in that state of oppression. My heart still breaks for the mothers who did, and who suffered horrendous loss because of it.<br />.</div><br /><br /><div align="center">I am not a poet, but was moved to write this piece in 1985 after watching yet another mother grieve for her son, his life now reduced to a headline on the evening news...</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><strong>The Young of Belfast</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong><br /></div><div align="center">Suckled on mistrust, the young of Belfast<br /></div><div align="center">learn early to hate.<br /></div><div align="center">They know fear from the first nervous clutch<br /></div><div align="center">of a mother's arms,<br /></div><div align="center">And anger from the stiff, defensive line<br /></div><div align="center">of a father's back.<br /></div><div align="center">Rage is their heritage; a birthright passed<br /></div><div align="center">on from generations<br /></div><div align="center">long nurtured on the feast of prejudice.<br /></div><div align="center">Through streets divided,<br /></div><div align="center">memory dogs their steps with practiced zeal.<br /></div><div align="center">Young mouths taunt...<br /></div><div align="center">Young hands hurl rocks in a battle that was<br /></div><div align="center">promised to them<br /></div><div align="center">long before they were born to wage it.<br /></div><div align="center">Children fight children<br /></div><div align="center">in imitation of hurts both real and unreal,<br /></div><div align="center">and childhood games<br /></div><div align="center">meld into the adult world of reality.</div><div align="center">. </div><div align="center">More than bodies lie wasted in the struggle.<br /></div><div align="center">Dreams fall to ruin</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">beside innocence early vanquished;<br /></div><div align="center">and victory gained<br /></div><div align="center">only serves to lock the narrow cells of embittered minds<br /></div><div align="center">that shroud themselves in righteousness.<br /></div><div align="center">Good soldiers all,<br /></div><div align="center">the young of Belfast obey rules they<br /></div><div align="center">were not free to choose.<br /></div><div align="center">In this war of liberation, they have become<br /></div><div align="center">the true wounded...<br /></div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><strong>The photo above is one I took of the many murals still seen on walls throughout </strong><strong>Belfast..grim reminders of a time when violence so easily conquered reason.</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-67816460952043848772010-07-14T13:12:00.000-07:002010-08-13T09:36:58.035-07:00Hot-Air Balloon Over the Serengeti<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM1_QwrWj63Ll6lTX-TAVd8kVt-SFafX_WDgeWxtNdlMglcLp0uUWd3pR1Bv2pnJtBwGrCeiC3EUKeaEhvW0vg96TDHKchIorHZGaEZ4pdJs6oEq-eQD1z-v0uKCk2e3lQPdCeDah6JcA/s1600/1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 206px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495712190922402466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM1_QwrWj63Ll6lTX-TAVd8kVt-SFafX_WDgeWxtNdlMglcLp0uUWd3pR1Bv2pnJtBwGrCeiC3EUKeaEhvW0vg96TDHKchIorHZGaEZ4pdJs6oEq-eQD1z-v0uKCk2e3lQPdCeDah6JcA/s320/1.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center"><strong>Life is not measured by the number of breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away...</strong></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0bkleXqe4ebOnTJ3BfUoGGGZHLxtbeauna3p9FORgAotwYUlMA3o0Z85AKPKHZKpbK7q2LK85Wwf_IX8z3usIRmnEtzY0lmhg8ZSCenIdoPn7DrIwBfEQs9B4A5RoLIrcgfl65nBXrPk/s1600/2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 212px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495711932223344722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0bkleXqe4ebOnTJ3BfUoGGGZHLxtbeauna3p9FORgAotwYUlMA3o0Z85AKPKHZKpbK7q2LK85Wwf_IX8z3usIRmnEtzY0lmhg8ZSCenIdoPn7DrIwBfEQs9B4A5RoLIrcgfl65nBXrPk/s320/2.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Surely, few things could be more breathtaking than a hot-air balloon ride over the Serengeti Plain.<br />In planning our long-awaited trip to Africa four years ago, we knew it was something we had to do.<br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisyZxzM6ArRHRqci912nIgloiE0k_vPtlYRdl_A_P4IKS8tY0wrFtdONxS3cJpfJFzA6khyphenhyphenVcCqyjyJcqgpOJ97stjVquHAP4LSZm2wl1I3bY_KXT5VmH0sxD90oD3xVWSAjjzMqHea-o/s1600/3.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 208px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495711587966812146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisyZxzM6ArRHRqci912nIgloiE0k_vPtlYRdl_A_P4IKS8tY0wrFtdONxS3cJpfJFzA6khyphenhyphenVcCqyjyJcqgpOJ97stjVquHAP4LSZm2wl1I3bY_KXT5VmH0sxD90oD3xVWSAjjzMqHea-o/s320/3.jpg" /></a> Our arrival in Tanzania came a week into the safari. Already dazzled with the beauty that met us everywhere in Africa, I was sleepless with anticipation at the prospect of seeing it from the air. </div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">Rising at four a.m. to set out for the airfield, we were a groggy group of tourists, but once aloft - in time to see the sun rise pinkly over the horizon - we were wide awake, and knew ourselves to be more alive than we had ever been before.<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5WEIb_6SAS2v04xtAQs5UIR1B-sVk__Ju4eK2XtmZOgBVLoCZ2vJYvwbwbQXC6fnmL7QmZru3Zs9H1LUqABX0PDe7Zd6N-Fobg1QetS7v1dpSRhSP0u6DXdK5OorkgN2SSnEDJwTzZ0/s1600/4.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 212px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495711580750027122" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5WEIb_6SAS2v04xtAQs5UIR1B-sVk__Ju4eK2XtmZOgBVLoCZ2vJYvwbwbQXC6fnmL7QmZru3Zs9H1LUqABX0PDe7Zd6N-Fobg1QetS7v1dpSRhSP0u6DXdK5OorkgN2SSnEDJwTzZ0/s320/4.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMIluK6UtOmbD5g_VjL6GZK1DM2NtzW9shMw5v-Y3mRafNHmMs9NlCDJ_4QwH0FQasjxYX5wdfcEFcU7M1qk8J3bRzKhhQgYCS6GFmgiEq7lMFkk93Xfd-p7CEq1QB81i6AOZdrUsw_LI/s1600/5.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 202px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495711287647624178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMIluK6UtOmbD5g_VjL6GZK1DM2NtzW9shMw5v-Y3mRafNHmMs9NlCDJ_4QwH0FQasjxYX5wdfcEFcU7M1qk8J3bRzKhhQgYCS6GFmgiEq7lMFkk93Xfd-p7CEq1QB81i6AOZdrUsw_LI/s320/5.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhevDcgpGb0I_qMwW8Q3UG77fQjr5WokN6gH61YwEtQXY5xX_3AhE_wc59NFrg3v-098I1LemUC9GononyFQ8JztdtbDjyAtalRdlmUmBWcMymJeEj2n6W1Sq8W4p0B0gxe20l2DSMmCOc/s1600/6.jpg"></a><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><br />Below us, mile after mile of open grassland swept into infinity, studded sparsely by groves of spiked Acacia trees and gentle meandering streams.</div><div align="center">Morning light bathed all in its amber glow, and edged each leaf with gold.<br />.</div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB6kvntAgxUq4rv05Psck0OF0qwa0KfqyzhWfwDn1mRdr5V_uj4IzTmbrtVYr4aHcJMF6jcrhfSQgV891phfZTFoRcoJMys0cK6foZZQDR1TEzCKBsTwR9taLfTTZ3CjVPAPBqVJBGMIg/s1600/6.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 212px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495700725252937458" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB6kvntAgxUq4rv05Psck0OF0qwa0KfqyzhWfwDn1mRdr5V_uj4IzTmbrtVYr4aHcJMF6jcrhfSQgV891phfZTFoRcoJMys0cK6foZZQDR1TEzCKBsTwR9taLfTTZ3CjVPAPBqVJBGMIg/s320/6.jpg" /></a> For a time, we were low enough to see<br />elephants make their way across the plain, and to watch in wonder as a lone lion stopped on his journey home to regard us quizzically.<br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh73Mb_0TQU_Akr-oIsHpSPNAAqTSZ_MstDKcrKGM5xa8vajifrpXShlXRhjQkYXko2JvXIQK0hv0X8gT9HdK_uL38Hcl_znJjqeNyXfOHTaweZ5qb4HAanrnsuZPCpp3_ZruJ_FGhS3os/s1600/7.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 211px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495700532873983730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh73Mb_0TQU_Akr-oIsHpSPNAAqTSZ_MstDKcrKGM5xa8vajifrpXShlXRhjQkYXko2JvXIQK0hv0X8gT9HdK_uL38Hcl_znJjqeNyXfOHTaweZ5qb4HAanrnsuZPCpp3_ZruJ_FGhS3os/s320/7.jpg" /></a><br /><br />We said little, the dozen of us on board, rendered speechless by our effortless glide</div><div align="center">across across the silent morning plain, its stillness broken only by an occasional whoosh of flame as the pilot took us higher and farther.<br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDePQLMaYF4UMuhS0cp-0Pkba-Oa1CKiwcumDdyEYy8lLihkgDOO0hsN7uap6DmuHLOv0iQv6PH1pwsihVOA-g-CB1-sWRV4GvUigeEf_eb6cBOY3xB9jLyOphi5FS539mT-SY2i7piJM/s1600/8.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 212px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495700352316343490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDePQLMaYF4UMuhS0cp-0Pkba-Oa1CKiwcumDdyEYy8lLihkgDOO0hsN7uap6DmuHLOv0iQv6PH1pwsihVOA-g-CB1-sWRV4GvUigeEf_eb6cBOY3xB9jLyOphi5FS539mT-SY2i7piJM/s320/8.jpg" /></a><br />My soul filled with a sense of rightness and joy. In that space in time, life was the magical journey it is meant to be and I was an undeniable part of the magic. That moment of perfection is mine to treasure forever.<br /></div><div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEo04-Dx2Q6nLxNkIyNkgm05Bq_wMud3lmFu1kL8Kp594_WzKrzBScb6jZCXLWp45zLFWRrO6E_yp1kgpOt9H4oOB05Af0Uj5rKvZ2-VCDNR5IEq7vUoxtLCZPevK-y4MnWDgNdN3DEgM/s1600/7.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 202px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493858407166874130" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEo04-Dx2Q6nLxNkIyNkgm05Bq_wMud3lmFu1kL8Kp594_WzKrzBScb6jZCXLWp45zLFWRrO6E_yp1kgpOt9H4oOB05Af0Uj5rKvZ2-VCDNR5IEq7vUoxtLCZPevK-y4MnWDgNdN3DEgM/s320/7.jpg" /></a><br /><br />After an hour aloft, we began the descent that would bring us back to ground, and to the campsite already set up for us. As we'd been gliding across the sky, trucks had wound their way along trails below us, carrying tables and chairs, and copious amounts of food. We disembarked to be greeted with flutes of champagne and orange juice to celebrate our successful flight. After much giddiness and chatter now that we'd found our voice again, we were led to table and fed a sumptuous breakfast of egg and sausage, rinsed down with strong cups of coffee and piping-hot Earl Grey tea.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw2jU3qm81-HXw-OkTm62LVDQwCoanl54yXnFpNMQmv9kWoBwegDmt6rkd35sXnbx0RKgN1ydnUOPdxUEz_Vc0ouOrh6txTDJ3RxQ3esxo5EnthdsFZoNIXi7bPPLblfp7oZXfvfYjSUw/s1600/DSC_0449.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 178px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493858261496841042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw2jU3qm81-HXw-OkTm62LVDQwCoanl54yXnFpNMQmv9kWoBwegDmt6rkd35sXnbx0RKgN1ydnUOPdxUEz_Vc0ouOrh6txTDJ3RxQ3esxo5EnthdsFZoNIXi7bPPLblfp7oZXfvfYjSUw/s320/DSC_0449.jpg" /></a><br />I have rarely been gripped with the euphoria that coloured that day. I can only compare it to the birth of my children, or the sureness in knowing the man I was about to marry was my soulmate for life.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div></div><div align="center">Life is a miracle each and every day, but it is not every day that one's dreams come true. Mine did for me, that day in Africa, and I will hold the wonder of it in my heart for all time...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbDxEExfi2XZea9l8a7PLx1XPiCx05jore0mKbowlOittiDy3Y1gupgqr3i-l1NCNb8LmyStJZCuJGJKyHA1sZCaBhowPCRDbsU35BDy8ONdyJG4Gq098r0RhzzY_syaWkepsvcemFy9Q/s1600/netee.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 201px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493857805257602354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbDxEExfi2XZea9l8a7PLx1XPiCx05jore0mKbowlOittiDy3Y1gupgqr3i-l1NCNb8LmyStJZCuJGJKyHA1sZCaBhowPCRDbsU35BDy8ONdyJG4Gq098r0RhzzY_syaWkepsvcemFy9Q/s320/netee.jpg" /></a></div></div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-71232683871027241902010-07-13T18:12:00.001-07:002010-07-13T18:41:55.740-07:00An African Morning<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyLMQCDavLsLPBJYQaCMBM2LJB4sVqVUIrjcPtHgoC3X2lgHublqD4OLFuxahdbT8ceJnptpjVYgjBWRMxKvlQM-x8_uGq2a1yEReIOe0V5vikgvZeJ-i2f91Dom9ObjN4SudIkoWeyxQ/s1600/Giraffe.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 265px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493567231452834962" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyLMQCDavLsLPBJYQaCMBM2LJB4sVqVUIrjcPtHgoC3X2lgHublqD4OLFuxahdbT8ceJnptpjVYgjBWRMxKvlQM-x8_uGq2a1yEReIOe0V5vikgvZeJ-i2f91Dom9ObjN4SudIkoWeyxQ/s400/Giraffe.jpg" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMVpioCpk3TJWRIoqfWw-3NIOYsatpJ8NEwibHait9dzMQgf9pBeLlghWRrEPUHraVedJQOm0DsiSc4vSPnIIhidNPl9XHHx3GNsc3gQANmG_cq1nZGl5fmn6aBOav3Izr5sBeI1xqIxg/s1600/Elephants.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493567050561060738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMVpioCpk3TJWRIoqfWw-3NIOYsatpJ8NEwibHait9dzMQgf9pBeLlghWRrEPUHraVedJQOm0DsiSc4vSPnIIhidNPl9XHHx3GNsc3gQANmG_cq1nZGl5fmn6aBOav3Izr5sBeI1xqIxg/s400/Elephants.jpg" /></a>Morning comes gently to the African savanna. As the sun creeps up through the early haze, an abundance of wildlife begins to stir. Baboon troops clamber down from their treetop nests, yawning adults patiently bearing the frisky antics of youngsters eager to greet the day. Wildebeest and zebra quietly make their way along well-worn trails to the water hole; there to be joined by tawny gazelle whose dainty sips barely ripple the lambent surface.<br /><div align="center">.</div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwOBAAnFUJcRBklWg4SN_s148s6FMrN9sBtJLVDbN2G0DOwoN3m2Cyi4P6mrHdpfD3jKpu53Xa558QXsfWpeLETP_gpZFFpHJz0Rg_ruvcgsTmXeyHIG5yMBmqSkNkP3c__qXFldEzbBk/s1600/Baboons.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 202px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493564964688830562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwOBAAnFUJcRBklWg4SN_s148s6FMrN9sBtJLVDbN2G0DOwoN3m2Cyi4P6mrHdpfD3jKpu53Xa558QXsfWpeLETP_gpZFFpHJz0Rg_ruvcgsTmXeyHIG5yMBmqSkNkP3c__qXFldEzbBk/s320/Baboons.jpg" /></a> Stillness hangs in the air, broken only infrequently by questioning cries from the bush. Scattered dust casts the air in golden hues and pale amber grass flutters softly in the long morning shadows. Time stops in its track, as if to rest for the game of survival that will shape the remainder of the day. It is a time of magic - luminous, brief and radiantly beautiful.<br />.<br /></div><div align="center">The first time I awoke on the African continent, I felt I had come home. From an early age, pictures of thorn trees at sunset, of lions and elephants, took my breath away and filled my heart with a longing that never left me. Time cemented my love of this land that beckoned with each passing year. It seemed I knew instinctively the breadth of its spacious grass lands, the deep blue sky stretching into infinity, even as I played on treeless streets caked gray with the residue of countless coal fires and factory smokestacks. Although a world removed from the dank, impoverished landscape of my Irish city, I knew I would one day seek this Africa of my dreams.</div><div align="center">.</div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-757508169441757911.post-88785497292509212732010-07-12T09:44:00.000-07:002011-02-18T14:00:25.719-08:00The Immigrant Experience<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQTI2J335Z0sMKOOBXQQtVai7pjlrdktinq1dOoTIjPo_KVIPCreaCVZi4CvOPGmPqb0Ayd5qjmaLT0aZK1S7rXgkfKfeNzcx-cfxTUJUnbSQfIOh0x8LW2WoIdzfqsoruVBNea1OAGW4/s1600/Postcards+061.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 210px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493532319735152322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQTI2J335Z0sMKOOBXQQtVai7pjlrdktinq1dOoTIjPo_KVIPCreaCVZi4CvOPGmPqb0Ayd5qjmaLT0aZK1S7rXgkfKfeNzcx-cfxTUJUnbSQfIOh0x8LW2WoIdzfqsoruVBNea1OAGW4/s320/Postcards+061.jpg" /></a> </div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:times new roman;">.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Cameras played little part in my childhood. This is a rare, early photo of me with my brother Martin.<br /></span></div></strong><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">.</span></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">I came to Canada as a child, caught up in the wave of hopefuls who fled Great Britain in the difficult years following WWII in search of a better life. Like many, circumstance forced me to adapt to a culture very different from my own. Such a move required courage and determination, and I lacked both at the start. Strange sights and sounds overwhelmed me. I longed to go back home, sure that I could never be happy here. Time proved me wrong and I adjusted to Canadian society with relative ease, building a good life among people who accepted me as one of their own. Even as a child, I recognized that my smooth integration differed markedly from that of other newcomers, particularly those whose ethnicity spoke out in the colour of their skin. I came to understand that the elitism facilitating my assimilation made sure others would remain forever on the outside, no matter how long they might live in their adoptive country.<br />.<br />Bigotry darkened my childhood from birth. As Protestants in Northern Ireland, my parents charged me to hate Catholics...they were not our 'kind'. Exposed to Canada’s diverse range of cultural groups, my father developed a wide spectrum of racial slurs. One day, after listening to a vitriolic tirade about foreigners taking over the country, I reminded him timorously that we were not born here either. My father responded with raised eyebrows and imperialistic indignation, “Why, you cannot compare us to outsiders. After all, we're white..and we're British!” I understood that his specious logic was the only justification needed to vilify <em>real</em> foreigners. Helplessness silenced me, even as I sensed an underlying truth behind the arrogant words. I could not deny that my fair skin and Irish background influenced people to welcome me warmly. My old-world ways matched their preconceived notions and granted me easy access to where others were denied admittance.</div><div align="center">.<br />While many emigrants struggled to be understood, my Gaelic lilt guaranteed an instant smile. Given unaccustomed foods like hamburgers and pizza, the fact that I cut them up neatly with a knife and fork made adults beam approval at my manners. I never had to deal with disparaging remarks about what I ate or how the scent of that food lingered on my clothes. Although this high level of acceptance helped me adjust to my altered life, being singled out embarrassed me. I wished only to belong. With haste, I swapped my school blazer for flip-flops and became so fluent in the local vernacular that I looked and sounded exactly like my Canadian playmates. I knew this was not the case for those whose customs were more difficult to merge. Although I abandoned much to fit in, others gave up more for a smaller return.<br />.<br />I no longer stand silent and condone exclusion based on stereotyping of any kind. If I judge someone, I will base that opinion on an individual’s contribution to society, not on a race or creed. In conversation, I seek words of tolerance and inclusion, regardless of accent. I am part of a cycle greater than my own life. This planet is my home and every inhabitant on it my brother or sister, forever linked to me by bonds of responsibility and compassion. I want to hear the stories they tell and embrace the differences that have shaped our diverse lives. Each one of us must reject apathy and actively make this a world wherein mercy and equality are the birthright of all people.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">That change begins with me.</div><div align="center">.</div>Lynette Killamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13747902602019771481noreply@blogger.com3