SPRING FUNERAL

“The darkness of death is like the evening twilight; it makes all objects appear more lovely to the dying.” - Jean Paul

Poets and Storytellers this week is asking us to take inspiration from what we like about the dark. Darkness is a state of mind that can manifest itself in the full sunlight of Summer or in the flowery extravagances of Spring. It can be felt amidst a happy gathering at a party or the joyous shouts of children playing. If the dark is within us, it can be difficult to escape from it. I remember an interview that Reba Mcintire gave and she said something like: “For me, singing sad songs often has a way of healing a situation. It gets the hurt out in the open into the light, out of the darkness.” Here is my dark, sad song:

Spring Funeral

A funeral in Spring,
Much pain will bring;
Spring comes, nears,
Raining bitter tears…

Spring wakes deep in earth the sodden seeds
Making more acute my pressing needs;
The rain that gently falls will wash me clean
No more will I my painful memories glean.

I loved you such a long time ago
And yet I chose dreams to forego.

The greenwood leaves unfurl and open fresh
The breeze still cool, tempers my burning flesh;
Desires, passions, loves I bury deep in earth
Path chosen, heart dies, mind more is worth.

I loved you such a long time ago
But now allegro turns to largo.

As flowers fresh are laid by a new dug grave
Your thinly disguised betrayal I forgave;
The falling night will usher in the stars
Silence – except for mournful cries of nightjars.

I loved you such a long time ago
Now where to turn? To whom to go?

The poem is set to music, and you can find an index of all my music in my “Otidorchestre” Instagram channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

Please note that there is delay between my uploading the music and your being able to access it. YouTube is generally the fastest to release the song.

TRAVEL TUESDAY 522 - REINE, NORWAY

“The world cannot live without the Arctic; it affects every living thing on Earth and acts as a virtual thermostat, reflecting sunlight and cooling the planet.” - Philippe Cousteau, Jr.

Welcome to the Travel Tuesday meme! Join me every Tuesday and showcase your creativity in photography, painting and drawing, music, poetry, creative writing or a plain old natter about Travel.

There is only one simple rule: Link your own creative work about some aspect of travel and then share it with the rest of us.

Please use this meme for your creative endeavours only. Do not use this meme to advertise your products or services as any links or comments by advertisers will be removed immediately.

Reine is the administrative centre of Moskenes Municipality in Nordland county, Norway. The fishing village is located on the island of Moskenesøya in the Lofoten archipelago, above the Arctic Circle, about 300 kilometres southwest of the city of Tromsø. Reine Church is located in the village. The 0.28-square-kilometre village has a population (2023) of 297 and a population density of 1,061 inhabitants per square kilometre.

Reine has been a trading post since 1743. It was also a centre for the local fishing industry with a fleet of boats and facilities for fish processing and marketing. There was also a little light industry. In December 1941, the Germans burnt part of Reine in reprisal for a raid on the Lofoten Islands by British troops. Today, tourism is important, and despite its remote location, many thousands of people visit annually. The village is situated on a promontory just off the European route E10 highway, which passes through the village.

Allers, the largest weekly magazine in Norway, selected Reine as the most beautiful village in Norway in the late 1970s. A photograph over Reine from the mountain Reinebringen (altitude 448 metres) has been used for the front page of several tourist brochures and books. In 1999, the painter Ingo Kühl set up a temporary studio in a rorbu (a traditional Norwegian fisherman's cabin, typically found in coastal villages and often built on stilts over the water) and painted the view over the harbour to the mountain range.

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HALLOWEEN

“A grandmother pretends she doesn't know who you are on Halloween.” - Erma Bombeck

The Poets and Storytellers blog has chosen the apt theme of “Halloween” this week. Here is my contribution:

Halloween

It’s a dark, scary night
Halloween is tonight –
All the ghoulies are out
All the ghosties about…

With a crick and a crack
And a tap on my back
I’m trembling and shaking, 
A-fearing and quaking.

It’s a night of the fey
Take care not to stray,
All the witches do sport 
All the fiends do cavort.

With a quick step I tread
With a bat on my head:
It’s shrieking and squeaking
And victims it’s seeking.

It’s the dark, stormy night
Of the hag and the sprite –
All the zombies parade,
All the children afraid.

With a shudder and shake
Until dawn wide awake,
I’m quietly abiding
In the dark hiding.

It’s the night full of screams
And of horrible dreams – 
All the spectres take flight
All the banshees delight.

With a sob and a sigh
With a throb and a cry,
I’m shuddering, shivering
Queasily quivering
It’s Halloween!

The poem is set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

PRAYER

“Prayer does not change God, but it changes him who prays.” - Soren Kierkegaard

The New What’s Going on Blog has set as its theme this week “Eternal/Unchanging”, a reflection on those things that last forever, those constant and reliable values, the dependable and unchanging ideas and feelings that we can turn to, especially so in times of strife. For many people, religion is such an eternal and unchanging cornerstone of life and prayer is the way we can approach all things spiritual and strive to become better people. Here is my poem:

Prayer

I greet You, fragrant damask rose,
With perfume that delights the nose;
I greet You basking in the morning sun
Your splendour is second to none.

Your softness, tenderness and grace
Matched by the beauty of Your face;
Your touch is to the wounded, balm,
Bringing to the afflicted calm…

O shining star in heaven bright,
You bring to desperate souls delight!
You ease the greatest pain and sorrow,
Bringing us hope and love each morrow.

You sing with sweet and quiet voice
Making every sad wretch rejoice;
You speak and every word you say
Holds each beating heart in sway.

You are our tender, giving Mother
With love and care like none other;
You give our spirit food and drink,
And to our mind much to bethink.

O Queen of heaven, Mary bright,
You bring to us your fulgent light!
You ease the greatest pain and sorrow,
Bringing us hope and love each morrow.

The poem is set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

Please note that there is delay between my uploading the music and your being able to access it. YouTube is generally the fastest to release the song.

TRAVEL TUESDAY 521 - LA PAZ, BOLIVIA

“Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable.” - John F. Kennedy

Welcome to the Travel Tuesday meme! Join me every Tuesday and showcase your creativity in photography, painting and drawing, music, poetry, creative writing or a plain old natter about Travel.

There is only one simple rule: Link your own creative work about some aspect of travel and then share it with the rest of us.
Please use this meme for your creative endeavours only. Do not use this meme to advertise your products or services as any links or comments by advertisers will be removed immediately.

La Paz (Spanish, lit. 'the peace'), officially Nuestra Señora de La Paz (Our Lady of Peace), is the seat of government of the Plurinational State of Bolivia. With 755,732 residents as of 2024, La Paz is the third-most populous city in Bolivia. Its metropolitan area, which is formed by La Paz, El Alto, Achocalla, Viacha, and Mecapaca makes up the second most populous urban area in Bolivia, with a population of 2.2 million, after Santa Cruz de la Sierra with a population of 2.3 million. It is also the capital of the La Paz Department.

The city is in west-central Bolivia 68 km southeast of Lake Titicaca, and is set in a canyon created by the Choqueyapu River. It is in a bowl-like depression, part of the Amazon basin, surrounded by the high mountains of the Altiplano. Overlooking the city is the triple-peaked Illimani. Its peaks are always snow-covered and can be seen from many parts of the city. At an elevation of roughly 3,650 m above sea level, La Paz is the highest capital city in the world. Due to its altitude, La Paz has an unusual subtropical highland climate, with rainy summers and dry winters.

As the seat of the government of Bolivia, La Paz is the site of the Palacio Quemado, the presidential palace. It is also the seat of the Bolivian legislature, the Plurinational Legislative Assembly, and numerous government departments and agencies. The constitutional capital of Bolivia, Sucre, retains the judicial power. The city hosts all the foreign embassies as well as international missions in the country. La Paz is an important political, administrative, economic, and sports centre of Bolivia; it generates 24% of the nation's gross domestic product and serves as the headquarters for numerous Bolivian companies and industries.

La Paz is also an important cultural centre of South America, as it hosts several landmarks dating from colonial times, such as the San Francisco Church, the Metropolitan Cathedral, the Plaza Murillo and Jaén Street. La Paz is also situated at the confluence of archaeological regions of the Tiwanaku and Inca Empire. The city is renowned for its markets, particularly the Witches' Market, and for its nightlife. Its topography offers views of the city and the surrounding mountains of the Cordillera Real from numerous natural viewing points. La Paz is home to the largest urban cable car network in the world.

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THIS, TOO, SHALL PASS...

“It is right to endure with resignation what the gods send, and to face one's enemies with courage.” - Pericles

The New What’s Going on Blog has sent as its theme this week “The Days we Stayed Apart”, a reflection on how the COVID pandemic affected us. For me personally this was a difficult time as death due to COVID claimed a victim within my own family. However, I had to find the strength to hold on and deal with life and all its vicissitudes. Resignation, tolerance, moderation, self-control, assisting others, coping with numerous restrictions and delving into what is the purpose of life, are all topics that I think of when I remember that dark time. Here is my poem:

This, Too, Shall Pass…

This fleeting moment
Of our time in the sun,
This, too, shall pass –
Remember; for the happy man shall be made sad,
And the sad man made happy.

This mortal coil,
All of our suffering,
This, too, shall pass –
Remember; for the pain shall be made joy,
And the joyful made melancholy.

This grand love,
Our all-consuming passion,
This, too, shall pass –
Remember; for the flame shall be made ash,
And the dust made into fire.

This glorious fame,
The greatness, this prestige,
This, too, shall pass –
Remember; for the renowned shall be made unknown,
And the obscure will be celebrated.

All is fleeting, all is vain;
Life, youth, love, beauty,
Riches, luxury, your bed of roses;
These, too, shall all pass –
Remember; for the last will be first,
And the first will be last…

The poem is set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

Please note that there is delay between my uploading the music and your being able to access it. YouTube is generally the fastest to release the song.

TRAVEL TUESDAY 520 - SIBIU, ROMANIA

“Nothing’s far when one wants to get there.” - Marie of Romania

Sibiu, German: Hermannstadt, Hungarian: Nagyszeben, Latin: Cibinium, is a city in central Romania, situated in the historical region of Transylvania, with a population of 134,309. Located some 275 km north-west of Bucharest, the city straddles the Cibin River, a tributary of the Olt River. Now the seat of Sibiu County, between 1692 and 1791 and 1849–65 Sibiu was the capital of the Principality of Transylvania. Until 1876, the Hecht house in Sibiu served as the seat of the Transylvanian Saxon University.

Nicknamed 'The Town with Eyes' for the eyebrow dormers on many old buildings, the town is a popular tourist destination. It is known for its culture, history, cuisine, and architecture. Several fortified villages near Sibiu, such as Biertan and Valea Viilor, were inscribed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1993 under the collective listing "Villages with Fortified Churches in Transylvania". Separately, in 2004, the historical centre of Sibiu was added to Romania's tentative list of UNESCO World Heritage Sites, but has not yet been officially inscribed.

It was later designated the European Capital of Culture in 2007, alongside Luxembourg City. In 2008, Forbes ranked Sibiu as "Europe's 8th-most idyllic place to live". In 2019, Sibiu was named the European Region of Gastronomy and hosted a European Union summit. In 2021, it also hosted the European Wandering Capital event, the continent’s most prominent hiking and eco-tourism gathering.

Sibiu is also known nationally and internationally for its Christmas market. Renowned local personalities include Transylvanian Saxon scientists Conrad Haas and Hermann Oberth, who were both pioneers of rocketry. The company Elrond, which created the eGold cryptocurrency (among the biggest in the world), was founded by people from Sibiu.

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STARRY NIGHT

“I hate war as only a soldier who has lived it can, only as one who has seen its brutality, its futility, its stupidity.” - Dwight D. Eisenhower

The New What’s Going On Blog has set as its theme today "ekphrastic poetry”. I have used one of my paintings, which was inspired by Vincent van Gogh’s “Starry Night”, but brought up to date as it were, considering the number of wars and conflicts that are raging around the world at the present time. Some of us may be lucky enough to sleep and rest in a country at peace, but we must not forget how many people are living in the hell of combat - sleep and rest being only an unattainable dream…

Starry Night

Heavens are vivid, clear tonight
The golden stars are blazing bright;
We watch transfixed and glorify
The Maker’s grace that gave us sky.

The city sleeps content and still,
As sleeper’s dreams with pleasure fill.
Nightbirds sound the hours’ passing
And distant music sleep trespassing.

Calmness of peace awards us rest
And every child is quiet, blessed.
The moon looks down and sweetly smiles
Surveys the countryside around for miles.

Heaven is burning hot tonight,
Alight with violent fires that smite;
The missiles fall, explode and strike
King, peasant, young and old alike.

The city is embraced by a wild panic
All go to shelters, running manic;
Explosions, screams, war cries resound
Even in cellars deep, far underground.

Fury of battle and warmongers’ folly
Make every soul dire, melancholy;
Ashamed, the moon hides in the clouds
Wrapping herself in smoky shrouds.

Oh, foolish, crazy, deluded human,
Why peace forsake and become inhuman?
Your days are short, so very dear
Why waste them only to live in fear?

The poem is set to music again, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites. Please note that there is some delay in publication of music on these platforms and generally the fastest publication is on YouTube, however, they will all make the music available within a few days.

TRAVEL TUESDAY 519 - MAURITIUS

“Mauritius was made first and then heaven, heaven being copied after Mauritius.” - Mark Twain

Welcome to the Travel Tuesday meme! Join me every Tuesday and showcase your creativity in photography, painting and drawing, music, poetry, creative writing or a plain old natter about Travel.

There is only one simple rule: Link your own creative work about some aspect of travel and share it with the rest of us. Please use this meme for your creative endeavours only.

Do not use this meme to advertise your products or services as any links or comments by advertisers will be removed immediately.

Mauritius, officially the Republic of Mauritius, is an island country in the Indian Ocean, about 2,000 kilometres off the southeastern coast of East Africa, east of Madagascar. It includes the main island (also called Mauritius), as well as Rodrigues, Agaléga, and St. Brandon (Cargados Carajos shoals). The islands of Mauritius and Rodrigues, along with nearby Réunion (a French overseas department), are part of the Mascarene Islands. The main island of Mauritius, where the population is concentrated, hosts the capital and largest city, Port Louis. The country spans 2,040 square kilometres and has an exclusive economic zone covering 2,300,000 square kilometres.

Given its geographic location and colonial past, the people of Mauritius are diverse in ethnicity, culture, language and faith. It is the only country in Africa where Hinduism is the most practised religion. Indo-Mauritians make up the bulk of the population with significant Creole, Sino-Mauritian and Franco-Mauritian minorities. The island's government is closely modelled on the Westminster parliamentary system with Mauritius highly ranked for economic and political freedom. The Economist Democracy Index ranks Mauritius as the only country in Africa with full democracy.

Mauritius ranks 72nd (high) in the Human Development Index and the World Bank classifies it as a high-income economy. It is amongst the most competitive and most developed economies in the African region. The country is a welfare state. The government provides free universal health care, free education up through the tertiary level, and free public transportation for students, senior citizens, and the disabled. Mauritius is consistently ranked as the most peaceful country in Africa.

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APRIL

“A wind has blown the rain away and blown the sky away and all the leaves away, and the trees stand. I think, I too, have known autumn too long.” -  e. e. cummings

Poets and Storytellers this week has as its theme “October”. That is all very well in the Northern Hemisphere, where it is Autumn, but here in the Southern Hemisphere October is a Spring month and our equivalent autumnal month is April. Hence, with poetic licence, here is my autumnal April poem.

April

Ahhh, April,
Welcome, friend…

Come, April, my old friend, again
Let’s talk, let us exchange pleasantries.
You bring me gifts - more white hairs,
More experience, my wrinkling face the evidence,
And yet I am none the wiser...

Come friend, let’s drink, and in our cups
Let’s reminisce of days gone by,
Of nights long past, when autumn moons
Shone bright and clear, and we,
We used to walk beneath the frosty starlight...

You watch me, smile and speak not;
April, you always were a good listener,
Hearing out my softly whispered confessions,
The patter of your rain, your grey skies our cover,
Our camouflage, your smile my absolution.

Year after year, my friend you come
Bringing chrysanthemums, rain-clouds
Crisp, frosty nights, woollen days, capricious sunlight.
As Autumn ripens, you herald Winter’s arrival,
And I with each of your visits understand your silences more…

Come friend, let’s drink, and in our cups
Let’s reminisce of days gone by,
Of nights long past, when autumn moons
Shone bright and clear, and we,
We used to walk beneath the frosty starlight…

Ahhh, April,
Welcome, friend,
Ahhh, April!

The poem is set to music again, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

VALE, JANE GOODALL

“We have enslaved the rest of the animal creation, and have treated our distant cousins in fur and feathers so badly that beyond doubt, if they were able to formulate a religion, they would depict the Devil in human form.” - William Inge

This week, the New What’s Up blog commemorates the life and death of Jane Goodall, a primatologist and anthropologist who dedicated her life to studying primates and advocating conservation and climate action. Here is my offering.

Talk to the Animals

To treat each living thing
As if your life depends on it
Is a hard task, and few of us
Try to live by such a rule
And hope to succeed.

Living, respecting nature,
Trying to leave this world
A better place than what you found,
Is a life-long commitment
And one peppered with failures.

To live your life in harmony
With what’s around you:
Trees, animals, lakes, streams,
Sea, fish, air and earth,
Is a momentous undertaking.

Yet, so many amongst us
Venture forth and dedicate
Their life to doing good,
Saving the bounty given us
With utmost care and stewardship.

Thank those angels on earth,
Who came and tried to save us:
Jane, David, Jacques, Ralph,
Chief Seattle, Theodore, Wangari,
Rachel, Chico, Margaret…

Talk to the animals and learn,
To do what comes naturally,
No waste, no undue harm,
No ravaging of earth’s resources,
A web of life, perpetuating life...

TRAVEL TUESDAY 518 - MOOLOOLABA, AUSTRALIA

“All we need, really, is a change from a near frigid to a tropical attitude of mind.” - Marjory Stoneman Douglas

Welcome to the Travel Tuesday meme! Join me every Tuesday and showcase your creativity in photography, painting and drawing, music, poetry, creative writing or a plain old natter about Travel.

There is only one simple rule: Link your own creative work about some aspect of travel and then share it with the rest of us.

Please use this meme for your creative endeavours only. Do not use this meme to advertise your products or services as any links or comments by advertisers will be removed immediately.

Mooloolaba is a coastal suburb of Maroochydore in the Sunshine Coast Region, Queensland, Australia. It is part of the Maroochydore urban centre. In the 2021 census, Mooloolaba had a population of 8,202 people. Mooloolaba is bounded on the east by the Coral Sea, on the south by the Mooloolah River, on the north by Alexandra Headland and to the west by Buderim.

Mooloolaba derives from the Aboriginal word mulu, meaning snapper fish, or mulla meaning Red-bellied Black Snake. Originally known as Mooloolah Heads, the name was changed to Mooloolaba by Thomas O'Connor in 1919 when he subdivided land for sale there.

Mooloolaba Harbour (near the mouth of the Mooloolah River) is the home of a large fleet of fishing vessels, as well as being the northern base for the pilot vessels that control shipping through Moreton Bay and the Port of Brisbane. Due to its sheltered location in the lee of Point Cartwright, it is an all-weather harbour favoured by recreational sailors.

The esplanade facing Mooloolaba beach is a centre for tourist activity, containing the Sea Life marine park, as well as many souvenir and clothing shops, bookshops, galleries and restaurants. Behind the apartments facing the Mooloolaba Beach are camping grounds, backpacker hostels and canal villas. It is also a tourism destination, with cruise ships regularly anchoring outside the port.

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OUR FAVOURITE TOYS

“Child labor and poverty are inevitably bound together and if you continue to use the labor of children as the treatment for the social disease of poverty, you will have both poverty and child labor to the end of time.” - Grace Abbott

Poets and Storytellers this week has given us the theme of “Brothers and Sisters” to write about. I’m always struck by the huge size of families in countries where poverty is the rule. And yet it seems that those big families of many children are happy in their misfortune, and it is touching to see how the siblings look after one another with love and affection.

Our Favourite Toys

A hard life our lot, where every day is a struggle,
Where putting bread on the table is hard labour,
Where drinking water is never taken for granted:
A life that cheats death every day.

A hard existence, where everyone works
To eke out a living, and children grow up early,
To till the barren soil, trying to raise a meagre crop:
A life that gives pleasures rarely.

A poor man’s lot, where bitter food is eaten greedily,
Where hunger never goes away completely, and disease kills,
Where most children never get a chance to grow up:
A life of want gratefully stopped short.

Our favourite toys:
A ball of rags kicked stealthily, in between chores;
Worn plastic containers, no good for reuse,
Grabbed avidly, to make toy houses, cars and drums to beat:
In secret, while we steal a few moments to play.

Sticks, pebbles, twigs – and if you’re lucky –
An old bicycle wheel, to make of them whatever
Your boundless imagination desires,
Rubbish transformed into wondrous things;
And most precious of all:
Your kid sister a living doll to care for…

BLESSED ARE THEY...

“Power is no blessing in itself, except when it is used to protect the innocent.” - Jonathan Swift

The New What’s Going On Blog has set as its theme the topic of “weariness”. A feeling familiar to all of us who have trouble dealing with modern days and the worldwide status quo… All of us who feel desperate, despondent, frustrated, downhearted, miserable, and yes downright exhausted and weary. Fatigued in spite of all of our attempts to right the wrongs, and make the crooked straight. My poem gives perhaps a little rest, respite and blessings to all of the dog-tired humanity who still try to make the injured world a better place, despite all odds…

Blessed Are They…

Who in adversity find hope,
And who in hardship cope
With endless woe and ill –
Who out of blackness, light distill.

Who even in injury forgive,
Finding courage to live and let live.
In meekness, their strength’s untold
They stand tall, resolute and bold.

Who have the energy to love
Even all those unworthy of
A sentiment so noble, tender;
Their own heart ready to surrender.

Who trust and still believe
All those who seek reprieve;
Who credit all of base humanity
With virtues that preserve sanity.

Who strive for peace and calm
And who on injuries pour balm;
Giving repose to all who are tired,
The sweetest respite they’ve desired.

Who make the crooked run straight
And the trivial things be great;
Who have humility, patience, charity
Giving their all with grace and verity.

TRAVEL TUESDAY 517 - VIRUNGA MTS, RWANDA

“When the missionaries came to Africa they had the Bible and we had the land. They said 'Let us pray.' We closed our eyes. When we opened them we had the Bible and they had the land.” -  Desmond Tutu

Welcome to the Travel Tuesday meme! Join me every Tuesday and showcase your creativity in photography, painting and drawing, music, poetry, creative writing or a plain old natter about Travel.

There is only one simple rule: Link your own creative work about some aspect of travel and share it with the rest of us.

Please use this meme for your creative endeavours only. Do not use this meme to advertise your products or services as any links or comments by advertisers will be removed immediately.

Rwanda, officially the Republic of Rwanda, is a landlocked country in East Africa. Known as the "Land of a Thousand Hills" (French: Pays des mille collines) for its high elevation and rolling terrain, its geography is dominated by mountains in the west and savanna in the southeast. The largest and most notable lakes are mainly in the western and northern regions of the country, and several volcanoes that form part of the Virunga volcanic chain are primarily in the northwest. The climate is considered tropical highland, with two rainy seasons and two dry seasons each year.

Its capital and largest city is Kigali, located at the centre of the country, at 1,567 metres above sea level. Rwanda lies a few degrees south of the Equator in the Great Rift Valley of East Africa, where the African Great Lakes region and Southeast Africa converge. Going clockwise Rwanda is bordered by Uganda to the north, Tanzania to the east, Burundi to the south, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo to the west. It is the most densely populated mainland African country; among countries larger than 10,000 km2, it is the third-most densely populated country in the world.

Rwanda is a de facto one-party state ruled by the Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) and its leader Paul Kagame continuously since the end of the civil war in 1994. Although Rwanda is nominally democratic, elections are manipulated in various ways, which include banning opposition parties, arresting or assassinating critics, and electoral fraud. The RPF is a Tutsi-dominated party but receives support from other communities as well.

Tourism is one of Rwanda’s fastest-growing economic sectors and remains the country’s leading foreign exchange earner. In 2023, Rwanda recorded over 1.4 million international visitors, generating about US$620 million in revenue, according to the Rwanda Development Board. The World Travel & Tourism Council reported that in 2024, the sector supported nearly 386,000 jobs in Rwanda and contributed over 10% of GDP.

A major draw for visitors is mountain gorilla tracking in Volcanoes National Park, one of only three places worldwide where mountain gorillas can be seen in the wild. Other attractions include Nyungwe Forest National Park, known for its chimpanzees and canopy walkway, the resorts of Lake Kivu, and Akagera National Park, a savanna reserve in the east home to elephants, lions, and giraffes. The Virunga Mountains in the photo are a great scenic location.

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THE AUTUMN FULL MOON

“No man can taste the fruits of Autumn while he is delighting his scent with the flowers of Spring.” - Samuel Johnson

Poets and storytellers this week is titled “Hello, Fall”. Within that theme, I should mention that in Australia, our Autumn is during the  months of March, April, May, quite the opposite of the Northern Hemisphere. The majority of our population here is of a Northern Hemisphere heritage and all the seasonal holidays we observe are topsy-turvy! More so, if one is a recent arrival here, when these back-the-front seasons are quite startling. My poem takes that into account…

The Autumn Full Moon

Gazing at the clear sky on this Spring night
And looking at the full moon of September,
A distant northern Autumn I remember
When you were near, and your eyes were bright.

The stars are sparkling and the garden fragrant
The night is cool and air crisp as a crystal bell.
Spring flowers bright, in moonlight flagrant
But memory’s fallen leaves sad tales will tell.

Tell me pale Moon, does she too gaze on you tonight?
Could she perhaps be thinking of me, in your silver light?

We shared a moon cake under full moon’s light
And laughed as Autumn winds blew candles out;
Now I can find no trace of you about –
I loved, you left, the moon’s the mistress of the night.

The Autumn full moon in Spring is mocking
My thoughts, remembrances, feelings frozen;
My life so empty, and your absence shocking
This lonely path we tread as we have chosen.

Tell me pale Moon, does she too gaze on you tonight?
Could she perhaps be thinking of me, in your silver light?

The poem is set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube,  Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

TRAVEL TUESDAY 516 - THE ARAL SEA, ASIA

“Sustainable development is the pathway to the future we want for all. It offers a framework to generate economic growth, achieve social justice, exercise environmental stewardship and strengthen governance.” - Ban Ki-moon

Welcome to the Travel Tuesday meme! Join me every Tuesday and showcase your creativity in photography, painting and drawing, music, poetry, creative writing or a plain old natter about Travel.

There is only one simple rule: Link your own creative work about some aspect of travel and share it with the rest of us.Please use this meme for your creative endeavours only.
Do not use this meme to advertise your products or services as any links or comments by advertisers will be removed immediately.

The Aral Sea is a salt lake in Central Asia, located between Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan, which was once the world's fourth-largest lake but has since shrunk dramatically. This environmental catastrophe began in the 1960s due to the Soviet Union's diversion of its inflowing rivers, the Amu Darya and Syr Darya, for unsustainable cotton cultivation. The shrinking sea left behind toxic desert plains, but some recovery efforts have led to a revival of the smaller Northern Aral Sea.

By 2007, the Aral Sea had declined to 10% of its original size, splitting into four lakes: the North Aral Sea, the eastern and western basins of the once far larger South Aral Sea, and the smaller intermediate Barsakelmes Lake. By 2009, the southeastern lake had disappeared and the southwestern lake had retreated to a thin strip at the western edge of the former southern sea. In subsequent years occasional water flows have led to the southeastern lake sometimes being replenished to a small degree. Satellite images by NASA in August 2014 revealed that for the first time in modern history the eastern basin of the Aral Sea had completely dried up. The eastern basin is now called the Aralkum Desert.

After the visit to Muynak in 2011, United Nations Secretary General Ban Ki-moon called the shrinking of the Aral Sea “one of the planet’s worst environmental disasters.” The region's once-prosperous fishing industry has been devastated, bringing unemployment and economic hardship. The water from the diverted Syr Darya river is used to irrigate about two million hectares of farmland in the Ferghana Valley. The Aral Sea region is heavily polluted, with consequent serious public health problems.

In a Kazakhstani effort to save and replenish the North Aral Sea, the Dike Kokaral dam was completed in 2005. By 2008, the water level had risen 12 m above that of 2003, to 42 m. As of 2013, salinity dropped, and fish were again present in sufficient numbers for some fishing to be viable.

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THE WORDS I WRITE

“To learn to read is to light a fire; every syllable that is spelled out is a spark.” - Victor Hugo

Poets and storytellers this week is all about revisiting “Old Favourites”, and within that context I have chosen “Beloved Books”. I have about 20,000 books, which I have been collecting since I began to read — precociously, as I was taught to read by my mother before I went to school. Some of these books are in several rooms in my house, some in my mother’s house, a few in storage (as there is no more space, but I cannot part with them…). Yes, I am Nick and I am a bibliophile… And it doesn’t look like I’ll be able to ever kick that addiction!

When you read a book, and begin to gobble up those written words, hearing their sounds, forming mental images, experiencing emotions, devouring the plot, learning new things, taking pleasure in that simple act of reading, have you ever wondered what it would be like to be illiterate? When I was about 20 years old I travelled to Egypt, alone. I went up the Nile and ended up in Aswan. At that time, it was not very touristic and there were very few people speaking English, a few that spoke a little French (and with whom I was able to communicate more or less). But as far as the written word was concerned, I had trouble finding anything written in English or French, for that matter. All was Arabic! That lovely flowing, calligraphic, drawn out, wonderfully squiggly script that looked fantastic, but made no sense whatsoever to me! I then realised what it would be like to be illiterate!

Here’s a poem about the joys of literacy. And if you can read thank your teacher, thank your lucky stars for even now in the 21st century, it is estimated that approximately 750 million adults globally lack basic reading and writing skills, with two-thirds of them being women, particularly in sub-Saharan Africa and Southern Asia…

The Words I Write

The words I write are full of gratitude,

Each rounded letter a thank you,

Each line a heartfelt appreciation

Of my teachers’ tireless persistence.

The pages I read are full of knowledge,

Each word a bird in flight,

Each phrase a new friend, a new acquaintance

Met in distant places, wandering through fabled cities.

The books I read are full of pleasure,

Each page full of new-felt emotion and senses;

Each sentence a laugh, some tears,

Some gentleness, some fiery argument.

The verse I write is full of thought and heart,

Of pain and joy, of brain and soul, love, friendship.

I write and read, and with unconscious ease effortlessly

Take for granted this precious gift of literacy.

I thank my luck for this privilege, this gift of providence,

That I was amongst the chosen to experience

This mystery of written word, of imprisoned sound,

Of captured language and word-pictures.

The present of literature, the happiness of calligraphy

The indulgence of a memoir, the work of words,

The magic of communication,

This richness of script.

No song this week. Just read the poem!

THE LONG RIBBON OF THE ROAD

It's like driving a car at night. You never see further than your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way. E. L. Doctorow

This week, the New What’s Going On blog has given the theme of “Through the Windshield” - something to do with cars, obviously! Here is my offering:

The Long Ribbon of the Road

I count the minutes as they pass
The road stretches ahead,
An endless ribbon unfurling.
I count the seconds as they linger on
The dark, long road heartless,
The miles to you unending.

My burning love for you fuels my drive
Although it seems I’ll never arrive…
My teary eyes, mirror the rain falling,
Its sound it seems my name is calling.
Your face remembered, pulls me to you,
Even if I sink and drown in your black bayou.

The long ribbon of the road
Unwinds and mocks my speed,
As I attempt to catch the ribbon’s end.
The endless road stretches forever,
And like its dark ribbon up ahead,
My love for you is inexhaustible,

My beating heart, for you will falter
Although the love it hides won’t alter.
My raspy breath, my fevered brow,
The shaking trees, the branches sough. 
Your touch remembered, pulls me to you,
Even if I sink and drown in your black bayou.

Time drags as the road forever runs
And in the night I speed faster and faster;
I weather storms, battle with windmills,
Cheat hours, lie to myself, lose my reason;
Swallow my pride, pretend I’m in control,
Just to be in your embrace for a single stolen night.

My burning love for you fuels my drive
Although it seems I’ll never arrive…
My teary eyes, mirror the rain falling,
Its sound it seems my name is calling.
Your face remembered, pulls me to you,
Even if I sink and drown in your black bayou.

The poem is set to music again, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.