I got back from Maine a week and a half ago to find crocuses blooming in my Gettysburg garden. But in the days since, my plants have seemed to be in a state of suspended animation, with spring advancing at a glacial pace. We have had below average temperatures and cold northwest winds for weeks on end; and on one morning recently, my crocuses looked like this.

Slowly, though, spring really is springing. The daffodils have begun to show buds.

And buds have formed on the viburnum.

The buds on the forsythia in the back garden look as though they are about to burst open any minute. However, it seems as though they have looked that way for weeks and only one brave flower has bloomed.

One day soon, though, I will come home from work and look out the patio door or get up in the morning and go to the upstairs window that looks down on the garden, and I will gasp to see the forsythia in its full blooming glory. When that happens, the delight I feel will be all the greater because of this spring’s long slow tease.

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The power of daffodils is the same over here as it is in Poland, Bulgaria, or Sweden. It lies in the power of the contradiction between their energy and their vulnerability. Their yellow represents great energy and optimism. At the same time these delicate plants are greatly dependent on an abundant supply of water for their survival. They definitely are not suitable for my Tucson garden!

Daffodils are beautiful when in masses – as in an open field. They are as beautiful in cut form, but their lives then are much, much shorter.

The daffodils of this spring have had a strong touch of sadness and drama for me. I brought them to my dear friend, Susan, in the last hours of her intense and brave battle with cancer. I shared them with good friends to honor both Susan’s departure and this Easter Holiday’s arrival.

I am now looking at the daffodils standing royally in a vase in the center of the table at my home. They look strong and happy, while I feel deflated and sad. Never before had their yellow reminded me of other yellows: the massive gold of forsythia blooms next to my house on the Cape – the plant that I have always considered the birthday plant for my older son who now is totally estranged from me…. The yellow of the lower row of the daffodils’ petals reminds me of the gentle yellow of the roses associated with two friends who are no longer among us. Finally the strong yellow of the daffodils’ blooms brings to my mind the bloom of the mesquite tree that I loved and lost several years ago. Losses, losses, losses – all in a yellow hue….

Is that yellow melancholy going to take over my heart for the entire Easter weekend? I wondered. So I examined again carefully the daffodils in the vase. And here was the surprise – their tender green stems and ruffled yellow trumpets were not affected by my dark mood at all! Yet, their irresistible yellow energy slowly replaced my darkness. That is the power of flowers!

Alicja

P.S.

Many poems were written about daffodils and their youthful dancing energy. Here you can listen to the poem of William Wordsworth:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EK9UWpYuZiE

Have a good Easter weekend and a MULTICOLORED Spring!

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Text and photos copyright © 2013 by Alicja Mann

The event was supported by:

• XUME Quick Release Adapters - http://www.xumeadapters.com/
• SmugMug - http://www.smugmug.com/
• RDT Prints - http://www.rdtprints.com/
• Fujifilm Malaysia - http://www.fujifilm.com.my/

Four Zuikoholics members attended the photowalk i.e. Suzailan Jai, Jamil Talib, Zairi Rozali and Razif Hadi. We gathered at the nearby Petronas Station before the junction to Ulu Yam road. It was raining that day, but it did not stop us from attending the event. We arrived at the meeting point around 3.00 p.m. However, we were having hard times to park our car, since it was crowded with vehicles and other visitors as well.

 450D + EF-S 10-22mm 
f/8 | ISO 1600 | 1/20s | Razif Hadi 

Upon arriving at the location, we were greeted by our fellow friend Mr. Roonie Oh and he had introduced us to Athena Carey, the attention of the day. We were also given the opportunity to take a group photo with her, by using FujiFilm Instax camera. It was our first time having had our photo taken using this kind of camera. Quite cool in fact.

  O-MD EM-5 + M.ZD12-50mm 
Pin hole Art filter
f/3.7 | ISO 800 | 1/640s | SuzailanJai

After the registration took place, we gathered at the assembly point. The event started around 3.30 p.m. with opening speech by Athena Carey and photowalk briefing by Sanjitpaal Singh.

O-MD EM-5 + M.ZD12-50mm 
f/7.1 | ISO 200 | 1/80s | SuzailanJai

X-Pro1 + Fujinon XF 18mm
f/8 | ISO 2500 | 1/140s | Razif Hadi

We took the chance to capture some of the moments during the photowalk. This event was attended by multi-racial and ages and it was amazing of how photography can create a bound of connection regardless of your status.

O-MD EM-5 + M.ZD12-50mm 
f/5.7 | ISO 500 | 1/13s | SuzailanJai

X-Pro1 + Fujinon XF 18mm
f/8 | ISO 1600 | 1/250s | Razif Hadi

X-Pro1 + Fujinon XF 18mm
f/8 | ISO 2500 | 1/300s | Razif Hadi

O-MD EM-5 + M.ZD17mm f/1.8
f/1.8 | ISO 320 | 1/1600s | SuzailanJai

O-MD EM-5 + M.ZD17mm f/1.8
f/1.8 | ISO 320 | 1/1000s | SuzailanJai

O-MD EM-5 + M.ZD17mm f/1.8
f/1.8 | ISO 320 | 1/1200s | SuzailanJai

450D + EF-S 10-22mm
f/8 | ISO 800 | 1/125s | Razif Hadi

X-Pro1 + Fujinon XF 18mm
f/8 | ISO 800 | 1/210s | Razif Hadi

Despite of having a warmth temperature during the photowalk, we managed to capture beautiful photos of landscape especially in black and white. The contrast of the foreground combined with the blending tone of the ambient light at the background creating a wonderful scenery in which we hardly seen at our home in the city.

O-MD EM-5 + M.ZD12-50mm 
f/22 | ISO 200 | 1/3s | SuzailanJai 

O-MD EM-5 + M.ZD12-50mm 
f/13 | ISO 500 | 1/20s | SuzailanJai

D200 + TOKINA 12-24mm  f4
f/11 | ISO 400 | BKT | AndyJamil

E-P3 + M.ZD14-42mm II R
Panorama (5 photos)
f/8.0 | ISO 200 | 1/80s | Zairi Rozali

D200 + TOKINA 12-24mm  f4
f/4.5 | ISO 100 | BKT | AndyJamil

O-MD EM-5 + M.ZD17mm f/1.8
f/1.8 | ISO 320 | 1/800s | SuzailanJai

O-MD EM-5 + M.ZD17mm f/1.8
f/1.8 | ISO 320 | 1/250s | SuzailanJai

E-P3 + MMF-1 + ZD9-18mm
f/8.0 | ISO 200 | 1/80s | Zairi Rozali

E-P3 + MMF-1 + ZD9-18mm
PP from RAW
f/11.0 | ISO 1000 | 1/40s | Zairi Rozali

E-P3 + MMF-1 + ZD9-18mm
PP from RAW
f/9.0 | ISO 200 | 1/100s | Zairi Rozali

E-P3 + M.ZD 14-42mm II R
PP from RAW
f/8.0 | ISO 400 | 1/80s | Zairi Rozali

E-P3 + MMF-1 + ZD9-18mm
PP from RAW
f/7.1 | ISO 400 | 1/80s | Zairi Rozali

It was about time for us to move on to other part of the area. We left the event at about 4.45 p.m. as we considered the primary objective to take photos at the Batu Dam was fully accomplished. Then, we moved towards the nearby waterfall for some slow shutter practice with Zairi Rozali.

E-P3 + MMF-1 + ZD9-18mm + CPL + ND8
f/14.0 | ISO 200 | 2s | Zairi Rozali 

O-MD EM-5 + M.ZD12-50mm + CPL + ND8
f/16 | ISO 200 | 1/2s | SuzailanJai

O-MD EM-5 + M.ZD12-50mm 
f/10 | ISO 500 | 1/50s | SuzailanJai

Ulu Yam is a fantastic location for the nature lover and also suitable for a recreation venue as well. Many of the visitors come to this place on the weekend to enjoy the chillness of the waterfall and the river freshly flowing from the top. Not forget to mention, it is a good place for fishing too.

We wish to express our gratitude to both of the IPA winners for the invitation to join the photowalk. A million thanks to the sponsors too, for making this event more merrier.

Before dismissing ourselves from the photowalk, we had a high-tea at the restaurant nearby the junction to Ulu Yam. We had a good time today, and probably will be visiting again soon in the future.

Downtown Los Angeles was fantastically exciting for a number of reasons, but none greater than the experience I had shopping at Santee Alley in the heart of the city’s fashion district. I couldn’t believe that this was southwestern United States and not southeast Asia. Don’t come expecting Rodeo Drive – in fact, it’s practically the anti-Rodeo Drive. Everything is dirt cheap, street food is everywhere and vendors frantically compete for your attention. Like any place, it’s not for everyone, but I thought it was edgy, exciting and overwhelming in the best way possible.

You will find everything here. Everything. Random and all:

and a fro-yo place! it was pretty fantastic.

The Buka Passage is a narrow, deep and very fast flowing tidal channel that separates Buka Island by around 200 meters  from the main island of Bougainville.  Our home island for the week, the small but scenic Sohano island (far left with the silhouetted trees)  sits at the entrance of the Buka Passage and has a stunning view of the sunset over the channel (see Scenic Sohano).   For several days, I tried to be home on the island by sunset to photograph it but was not very successful.  Our adventures outside of Sohano were equally exciting and often kept us from getting home before sundown.  But there’s something else out there in the horizon, among the small islands, that deeply intrigued me and and caused the shutterbug in me to feel an intense restlessness and desire to capture its photos.

They are actually visible to the naked eye on a clear day: three boats (2 in this photo) that look casually moored by an islet among the reefs.

At a certain angle, even at a closer look; the boats can appear like normal seafaring vessels peacefully anchored on the calm waters of the channel.

But a more careful examination would show that something is wrong….

The vessels are totally deserted, one is almost totally burned, and it is obvious that they are not about to set sail soon.

Not far from the two boats is another one which looked like it’s about to sink.

Locals paddle their canoes and cruise in their dinghies near these vessels as if they’re not there when, in fact, the vessels serve as grim reminders of a recent tragedy.

On February 2, 2012; the MV Rabaul Queen sank in heavy seas off Finschhafen near mainland PNG, claiming more than 200 lives, many of them students or children from Bougainville. These 3 deserted vessels on Buka Passage are owned by Rabaul Shipping, the same company which owned the ill-fated MV Rabaul Queen.

According to local accounts, the relatives of the victims waited for more than a month to be compensated for their loss but they have not heard from Rabaul Shipping since the tragedy. Tired of waiting and unable to contain their rage, the victims’ relatives, reportedly joined by armed former combatants, stormed the company’s dock near this site in Buka. The angry crowd towed the 3 boats through the Buka Passage, grounded them on the reefs and set them on fire.

There were no casualties on the burning of these vessels and it is unclear what eventually happened to the case. But there they are: ghost ships enchantingly playing silhouettes against the sunset, monuments of rage floating aimlessly on the crystal clear but mysterious waters of Bougainville.

Author’s Note:  There are not many reports regarding the MV Rabaul Queen, the case against Rabaul Shipping, or the burning of its three vessels. Below are some related stories I found on the net.   A Blessed and Happy Easter to those who are observing the Holy Week.

• Rabaul Shipping Vessels Burned in Bougainville
• President Momis Slams Sharp’s Response to Ferry Disaster
• Inquiry: Ferry probe starts within 10 days

Relate Posts by Shutter Bug:

• Scenic Sohano (travellingartist.wordpress.com)
• Faces of Bougainville: I See Me! (travellingartist.wordpress.com)
• Back from Fishing (travellingartist.wordpress.com)
• Faces of Bougainville: Dock Boys (travellingartist.wordpress.com)
• Bougainville the Brave (travellingartist.wordpress.com)
• Looking Into Development Issues in Post-Conflict Bougainville (travellingartist.wordpress.com)
• Green Island (travellingartist.wordpress.com)

So, after taking a peek out the window, I got ready. For some reason I felt like I was 10 years old again. Why? Because getting ready on THIS spring day meant… jeans, a heavy sweatshirt, socks halfway up my calf, waterproof boots that hit just below my knee, gloves, a heavy down coat with the collar zipped up around my chin, and last but not least, my hood… up! There, that should do it. Perfect attire for a nice spring day…NOT!

What I walked outside to was more like the winter wonderland I wished we’d had three months ago. Even still, I had a nice stroll around and took some photos to mark this unusual day in late March. Of course I had to do it while carrying a thick towel to cover my camera between shots so the snowflakes that continued to fall didn’t harm my equipment. I mean, I’d like it still to work should we ever get a real spring day.

(Click on the first photo for a full size slideshow view.)

Well, many of you might have heard about Holi festival in India. It is a festival of colors.  People apply colors on each others’ faces on this day. They exchange greetings and sweets. Every state in India has its own variety of celebrating Holi. The holi at Mathura is widely famous. Mathura falls under the Uttar Pradesh territory. It is not far away from city of Taj Mahal, Agra. Mathura is a birth place of Lord Krishna. He used to play holi with all his friends. This festival has significance of  winning good spirit over bad ones. People use herbal colors and sing songs in the temples of Mathura. They celebrate it for a week there. People meet their friends and hug each other after applying colors. It creates harmony and integrity in the society. Holi is going to be celebrated on 27th March 2013. It has started in Mathura already. I visited Mathura for one day only last day. I managed to get some shots for you.

It is a big pond near birth place of Lord Krishna. There are different versions about it. It was meant for taking bath there.

People of Mathura show exhibitions every day in the local market. Little kids pose like Lord Krishna and throw flowers and colors in the air.

One of the performers in the exhibitions of Holi 2013 India.

Little Kids are posing as followers of Lord Krishna and exhibiting themselves in the local market of Mathura.

An exhibitor is wearing glasses against colors.

A little girl is posing as follower of Lord Krishna.

A little kid is posing as Lord Krishna and showering flowers in the local market of Mathura, India.

People celebrating Holi 2013 in Mathura, India.

Photos by: Siddharth Malkania

To prove I followed her instructions, I took pictures.

February 27: don’t spend another minute in this apartment.

For the next activity, my friend, Mike, originally wrote “Suck some dicks.”

Claire changed it to “Sack some ducks,” thinking it was kinder. Little did she know…

March 18: sack some ducks.

March 22: drive to Alaska and back as fast as you can.

April 7: walk like an Egyptian.

April 20: shake hands with a midget.

May 2: do twenty-one push-ups. Backwards.

May 22: practice your evil laugh.

June 3: jump. Now.

June 17: make your bed.

June 30: paint the moon your favorite color.

(My favorite color is black.)

July 16: wear your green shirt today.

July 27: don’t blink.

August 28: put your left leg behind your head.

September 8: ‘Death Bed: the Bed That Eats People.’ That’s all.

September 19: say ‘what’ again.

October 9: eat as many cupcakes as you can without throwing up.

October 21: go to the ocean. Submerge only your face without getting the rest of you wet.

November 5: stop it. You know what I’m talking about.

November 15: eat pizza for breakfast.

November 30: ‘Star Wars, Episode II: Attack of the Clones,’ the Drinking Game.

December 14: sit in a chair, backwards.

December 25: You didn’t write in Christmas, butthead.

Whoops!

That oughta do it, but just in case…

December 26: happy Boxing Day!

I had curiosity to know all this too. It took me to visit Kumbh 2013. Every photographer has a wish to attend kumbh once in a life. It is always in his/her wish-list. I made my plans to attend the kumbh at Allahabad on a first ‘Shahi Snan’. It was on 14th Jan. 2013 on the eve of Makar Sakaranti (A Hindu Festival). I have covered several events related to religion; social issues; festivals for the last four years. It has always been unique experience every time when there is a vast variety in Indian culture and religion. It was a new experience with Kumbh too. I spent three days with ascetics and saints at Akhada (camp).

I witnessed crowd or devotees beyond my expectations. I can’t claim the numbers of exact visitors. This year millions of devotees attended Kumbh mela. The administration announces the exact numbers of visitors whenever it is held. It has always been questioned by media. It is very difficult to count the exact numbers. Every time administration finds itself helpless to handle devotees during Kumbh. Unfortunately, two major incidents occurred this year too. First, there was a stampede at Allahabad railway station and second, a fire broke out in camps. Several devotees lost their life in mishap.

It was sprawled over 45 square km. area. Administrations tried its best to make better arrangements. They provided the information in public domain about arrangements. It was like “18 pontoon bridges, a 100-bed central hospital, 240 twenty-bed regional and infectious diseases hospitals, 46,000 toilets of different standards, 4,000 urinals, 770-km long temporary power lines, 50 transformers, 50 generator sets, three additional power stations of 132 KV, 155-km checker plate road, 125 fair price shops, 150 milk sale centres, 40 fire tanks, 20,000 potable water pump facility.”

It was a huge affair with lots of new experience every day. It is very hard to write about it in one post. It is just a start. More stories behind the kumbh have to come yet related to ‘Shahi Snan”, camping with fire, donations to akahadas, cash flow in millions of rupees, spending $4625 for one lunch in a day, nominating Mahamandleshwar and Nagas’ Life!

Next post will come soon…To Be Continued!

Niranjani Akahara heading towards sangam to take a bath on the day of Shahi Snan

A naga saint is taking rest after meditation.

Flag of Akahara during sun set.

Saints are beating the cold in the camps

Shastri bridge during early morning

Sun Set at the river Ganges

A naga saint running to take a bath.

A devotee is offering prayer to Sun.

A girl is selling flowers to devotees.

A devotee is offering prayer to Sun.

A devotee is taking a bath in sangam at Allahabad

A naga saint waiting for his fellows.

A naga saint waking in Niranjani Akahara after shahi snan

A naga saint is ready for meditation.

A saint is enjoying sun at the altar of akhara.

A naga saint is raising slogan of lord Shiva during early morning heading towards sangam for shahi snan.

An evening before first shahi snan at Kumbh Mela 2013

By: Siddharth Malkania, Travel Photographer

www.cosmictravelhub.com

Greetings. Today marks the 14th day I am covering the invasion of Sulu terrorists in Semporna, Sabah. Here is an opportunity for me to share a picture story titled “Semporna: The Death of a National Hero”.

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The late Sergeant Azis bin Sarikon, 52, was part of the PGA Battalion 14 Semporna, Sabah. He was one of the 6 police officers who were gunned down in a fierce firefight with Sulu terrorists in Kampung Seri Jaya, Simunul, Semporna on the 2nd of March, 2013.

He leaves behind a wife, Siti Bandorah Binti Mahalil,39 and 4 children, 2 boys and 2 girls.

The late Sarjan Azis bin Sarikon, 52.

Blood spots belonging to one of the police officers gunned down by the Sulu terrorists on March 2nd.

The body of Sarjan Abd Azis Sarikon is carried out of the prayer room at the Semporna District Police Headquarters after the funeral rites were completed.

Widow of the deceased, Siti Bandorah Mahalil, 39, struggles to hold back her tears as the remains of her husband is carried out of the prayer room at the Semporna District Police Headquarters.

Siti Bandorah Mahalil, accompanies the body of her husband to the burial grounds in Batu 3 Cemetery.

Siti Bandorah Mahalil, shows her children photographs of her husband, Sergeant Abd Azis Sarikon at her home. From left, Mohd Faridzulhelmy,18, Nurul Syazwani, 12, Mohammad Aiman Hakimi, 7, and Nurul Liyana, 15.

Marital portraits of the late Sergeant Abd Azis Sarikon with his wife, Siti Bandorah Mahalil hangs in the living room of his home.

The youngest son, Aiman Hakimi,7, and Nurul Liyana, 15, touch their fathers headstone at the Batu 3 Cemetery, 2 weeks after the incident that robbed him of his life.

Siti Bandorah Mahalil and her children at the burial grounds of her late husband who was shot dead 2 weeks ago by Sulu terrorists.

May the late hero’s soul rest in peace among the righteous ones.

Mazlan Samion

16 March 2013 at Semporna, Sabah, Malaysia

Copyright of all images are reserved – fotoBERNAMA (2013)

This article was translated from Bahasa Malaysia into English. The original post was written by a friend, Mazlan Samion, who is attached as a photojournalist with the national news agency, BERNAMA. The original post can be viewed here . All efforts have been made to translate and present the post as the original author have intended.

The past year has been without much rhythm, a time of starts and jarring stops, a year a bit here and there and everywhere.  I have only spent six weeks in Pau total since October, four of which I was too sick with a flu and a deep, body-shaking cough to even leave my apartment.

As soon as I’d recovered, I went home to California.  But for the first time there was no home there, there was no house, no room, no bed.  No driveway to bump into and park myself in.  The bed I have had since I was a child, had been disassembled and living sideways in a storage unit with all my remaining artifacts of my childhood home since December.  I have been a traveller in so many places, but this was the first time I felt like a traveller in California too.

While I was in the states I slept in a total of 12 different beds, 2 air mattresses and 2 couches.  So it was with relief on Tuesday night, that I curled up in my own bed in Pau,the small French town I’ve been living in for the majority of the last three years, after what seemed like a lifetime away.

Despite having been 10-18 degrees Celsius in the previous weeks, the temperature dipped suddenly on the day I arrived back in France, and while I slept gratefully in my bed it began to snow.  It doesn’t snow often in Pau, although we are within site of the Pyrenees – in fact I have only personally been present for one day of snow in the last two years – so I was thrilled.  I spent several hours on Wednesday, my first day back, just walking the slick, cold streets, looking around me, taking pictures.

It’s been a long time since I have really made the effort to look closely at Pau.  It is a small town and because I have already been here for what seems like a very long time, and I don’t particularly want to live here much longer but may have to anyway, I have felt somewhat trapped and claustrophobic.   There is so much beauty here, but sometimes it seems very static.  And when I am so aware that there is a such a big, bright world beyond these small streets, I can feel very limited here, with life narrowed down to just one fine point of view, one small vantage (even if it IS a beautiful vantage overlooking the Pyrenees).  I miss cities, and I miss wilderness, places full of life and energy, and I find that Pau usually feels somewhere uncomfortably in between.

But yesterday’s walk reminded me I have to try to be more present and engaged here.  This may not be the ideal place for me, but I am here, and there is of course a lot to appreciate all around me every day.  My boyfriend asked me where I walked for so many hours, because he knows there isn’t really anywhere to walk TO.  The truth is I walked in many circles…and for awhile it seemed like the town inhaled deeply, and the world around me expanded somehow.  When you take the time to look closely, small things and places seem to grow, because the details add depth if not length and breadth.

Snow in the near springtime seems like an apt metaphor.  Something about the fresh, innocent vulnerability of the all the new blossoms wilting under the intense coldness of the fresh, wet snow seems important.  Renewal and healing can be a messy process, and learning does not happen in a straight line.  For awhile it can appear like we are getting somewhere, only to find ourselves seemingly back where we started later on.  And yet if it snows in mid-March, do we start to doubt spring is still coming?  While the macro-graph may show progression, things on the small-scale don’t move forward in a predictable, constant way, but rather in tides, sometimes smooth, sometimes in fits and starts, sometimes regressing, sometimes leaping ahead.   I need to have a little more faith in my own process; I have to be patient, and just do the work I need to do.  It has been a hard year or two, but I can feel so much strength and potential peeking through the broken pieces, through the still-falling snow.

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And if you enjoyed this post, you might also enjoy the following:

*Taken Captive by Spain

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*A Weekend in Florence in December

*Prague: Image and Impression