
© ireme waters 2018
Smooth bark
Still water
Idyllic calm
Multiple textures
Fascinated by the droplets
curtaining the space
between canoe and hard cement
Can you call this
saving water
as the sign has begged you to.

© ireme waters 2018
Smooth bark
Still water
Idyllic calm
Multiple textures
Fascinated by the droplets
curtaining the space
between canoe and hard cement
Can you call this
saving water
as the sign has begged you to.

image courtesy of Amazon.com
The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho I thought was a delightful read and am not surprised that it has a following and sold 150 million copies world wide. . It combined myth, parable, magic, wisdom and dreams in one small package that was simply written and easy to read but philosophically as deep as you wanted to go.
In the prologue the alchemist finds a book about Narcissus that tells the tale as we know it but continued on to explain that the lake had cried so much on the death of Narcissus that it had turned the lake Narcissus used to admire himself in from fresh water to salt water. The Lake was asked if Narcissus was beautiful and after a short silence said in reply: “I weep for Narcissus but I never noticed that he was beautiful. I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty reflected.”
Via this novel, In the shepherd boy’s life we see our own lives reflected.
We follow the life of a boy. On the first line we learn that his name is Santiago. Never again is the name used instead the narrator refers to him as the boy. This technique I feel further allows us to put our own lives in the story. The boy is a simple shepherd herder. He is a herder with education, choosing to herd as this is the only way he can travel. The boy has a dream and the rest of the tale is spent in search of this dream. He visits a gypsy who tells him that the treasure is to be found at the pyramids. He meets a king who advises him to sell his sheep to raise the funds to travel to Egypt.
His trip to the pyramids sees him meet an alchemist and he learns about personal legends, to follow omens (signs), and listen to his heart. He discovers love and the universal language. He learns of the treasure within. I put this in the same plane as C.S.Lewis’s Til We Have Faces and is a book I can see myself rereading further down the track.
Would I recommend it? Stupid question. It is clear that I would recommend this to all readers, children and adult alike, as the life lessons set out in here are ones that no matter your age they are worth reminding ourselves of.
“There is only one thing that makes a dream impossible to achieve: the fear of failure.”
The volcanolgists, wearing kevlar heat protective suits, abseiled into the crater, nearer the vents than any who’d gone before. Many locals gathered at the edge, some watching, some controlling the lines that would return the men to the crater’s rim.
Word was sent “Okay. We’re ready. Pull us up.”
Word was sent down “You haven’t paid us enough. We want another ten thousand dollars. Then we’ll pull you up. “
The volcano rumbled its anger as those inside its fiery walls rumbled theirs. “They’ve got us. We have to pay. Say okay. Once we’re over the edge, that’s another story.”
In response to Charli’s 99 word flash fiction prompt where she asks:
January 25, 2018, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that goes to the edge. Consider what the edge might be and how it informs the story. Go where the prompt leads.
Respond by January 30, 2018, to be included in the compilation (published January 31). Rules are here. All writers are welcome!

© irene waters 2018

photo prompt courtesy © Sandra Crook
A bomb ripped through the wall of a house in downtown Al Maquardy killing a thirty-one year old mother and three children 8, 5 and 3 years old. No-one has yet claimed responsibility for the blast but the most likely subject is thought to be forces opposing the government. It is unlikely the government would have targeted civilians. Fortunately the two shops on either side of the house were spared and without damage can continue to trade uninterrupted. A government spokesman said that although the loss of life was unfortunate, it is crucial to the country’s economics that trade carries on as normal.
In response to Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers . Thank you to her for hosting and to Sandra Crook for the photo prompt for this weeks story.

photo courtesy of Thomas Shellberg via Unsplash
The ominous presence of the house makes me hesitate. I feel its hate but the woman I love is inside. Without choice, I creep to the front door as the house stares at me. I knock. A man, her father opens it. The house is nothing; boy is her Dad scary.
In response to Sonya’s Three Line Tales

© irene waters 2018
In art we expect variations on a theme

© irene waters 2018
inspired perhaps by nature

© irene waters 2018
But even the ordinary is individual

© irene waters 2018
Despite their sameness
No two are exactly the same
but rather variations on a theme

© irene waters 2018
Perhaps if man accepted
Variations as the norm
Peace and harmony
Might invade the world.
In response to Weekly Photo Challenge

© irene waters 2018
In the tropics it is common to get up early to beat the heat of the day. In Queensland we have resisted daylight saving and being a morning person I love being able to be out and about anytime after 4am. My husband resists moving until after 5.30 as few places open for coffee before 6am.

© irene waters 2018
Being Australia Day the riverside was packed. It is the Australian tradition to have a BBQ for the midday meal on Australia Day. Some were having breakfast (champagne included) whilst others had just baggsed a site.

© irene waters 2018
We got a prime site for a coffee.

© irene waters 2018
When we started off there were few clouds but they seemed to be building and I wondered if the revellers would end up having a damp lunch. They didn’t and when we took my Mum down for lunch the crowds had swollen. It made it good for us for few were eating in restaurants.
Skywatch Friday where skies from round the world can be seen.

© irene waters 2018

© irene waters 2018

© irene waters 2018

© irene waters 2018
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