Summer and Short Shorts

Summer is almost here and the clothes are gone.

I first came to this beautiful country in the middle of a heat wave. I never knew a place on earth to be so hot, I saw mirages everywhere.

All shades of skin tones filled the Penn campus and on the narrow West Philly streets. Girls in the shortest shorts and tiniest tank tops. There were bellies and thighs everywhere. “God help the brothers” I thought. But then, I was the only one butting eyelids (I think).

Now, 10 years and a tougher skin later I’m just like “Oh whatever! It’s just another belly button, another thigh.” I’m sure the guys say the same no? Is this what they call assimilation? Adaptation?

I don’t know how young men handle the situation but one thing is for sure, I can’t afford enough kangas or kitenges to wrap around every skin baring lady. I will therefore mind my house.

Flower Petals: Beauty in Diversity

I saw these flower petals on a branch, on a tree by a neighbors house. A camera can’t quite capture this beauty like the naked eye but it tries. Looking at it, something came to mind: In God’s time, He makes all things beautiful. Each bud will have its moment in the sun. 

Just because one has blossomed, just because one’s petals are luscious and spread out with royalty, just because one looks brighter and more captivating, doesn’t mean the other is any less beautiful. If we wait with diligence, and do what God has placed in our hands to do, our beauty will shine through. 

The moment will come. You may not be bright pink but your dark red will captivate -  beauty in diversity. Bright pink contrasted with dark red, makes a rich blend. 

For this photographers eye it does.

Spring Photo Junkie

Spring: A season of the year that inspires hope, rebirth, new life, expectation.
Junkie: A person with a compulsive habit.

Spring photo junkie: Someone inspired and obsessed with the beauty of spring. Shoots buds, birds and all sprouting life with an incessant passion. Disclaimer - this is a personalized definition.

Ladies take pictures at the Washington DC tidal basin

Black-capped Chickadee

Cherry-blossoms

A squirrel skirts over a fence

Hello Assassins

We blossom and flourish like leaves on the tree, then wither and perish,
but naught changeth thee.

Hello assassins

Did you sleep well?

Did you dream sweet dreams?

Of flower petals and beautiful meadows?

Of children's laughter and cheerful celebrations?

Did you lay your head on your pillow and stretch your feet?

Did you yawn and seek a comfortable position, grateful for a job well done?

A Memory of Things

This pot (amoti) is the fridge in my parent’s home in Serere. It’s served faithfully since I was a little girl. I had never seen a pot so huge. I could literally hide behind it in a game of “tapo” and no one would find me. When the water levels were low, my feet dangled as I tried to scoop up a drink of water. Surprising how much it shrunk since.

Once the pot is smoked, it yields the sweetest, coolest water at the perfect temperature. It’s reassuring to find it in the corner of the corridor.

So much has changed and yet so much remains the same.