Chasing Rainbows


If a tree falls in the woods and I don’t photograph it, did I really see it?

Last week, amidst the throes of last-minute packing for spring break in Hawaii, I was mentally outlining the next chapter of my manuscript. That’s the only excuse I can give for walking out of the house and onto an airplane…

Without. My. Camera.

So Thom gave me charge of his new toy, a Pentax underwater camera, for use in or out of the water.  My hero!

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Its zoom wasn’t as powerful, but I was grateful.  As they say, “Any port in a storm!”


I snapped a handful of shots before it died. We changed the battery and…nothing.  Arrrrgh!  I thought about buying a new camera, but it seemed wasteful; I’m happy with the one at home.  Maybe just a one-use camera, a single roll of film in a recycled plastic case?  No, those photos always look washed out. Then I thought, I’ve been to Maui, and I’ll be back.  How many sunsets do I need in my archives?

 

I don’t need to chase rainbows

 

I decided to make a clean break of it, go cold turkey.  Perhaps my travel experience might even improve without a lens between me and my world.

Look, Ma!  No cams!


I confess, I felt the pangs of withdrawal.  My photographs help refresh memories I might otherwise forget.

 

 With my camera, I am never alone.

I anticipate with pleasure the sharing of pictures with friends, family, my blogging community.  Even sans camera, I was constantly framing shots in my mind’s eye. Sea turtles gliding in ocean currents.  Two hotel maids walking arm-in-arm down a deserted hotel corridor.  The underwater service station run by a pair of enterprising Cleaning Wrasse, with bigger fish lined up like cars at a car wash, patiently waiting their turn to be picked clean of parasites.

Oh, yes, and the kid in neon snorkel gear who shouted, “Mom!  Dad!  I can hear the whales singing!”  Eli and I smiled indulgently at his vivid imagination.

The next morning we were snorkeling off that same beach when Eli said, “Mom! Dad! I can hear whales singing!”  I thought he was teasing, but I ducked under the waves, held my breath, and listened.  And I could hear them too.  For an hour or more, we held perfectly still, just letting the whale song wash over us. I’d been coming to Maui for twenty years, but had never heard them. Had they been there all along? I was an astronaut, observing an alien planet from my little floating bubble, and was unexpectedly invited in for tea!  And inside my snorkel mask I cried.

When we staggered onto the beach and looked out at the water, we saw them spouting, teasing us with glimpses of their fins and shiny black backs.  We also saw the whale watching boat hounding them. Had they been communicating distress or just watching out for each other?  Finally the boat left.  And the moment it did, the whales began breaching and splashing, showing their big white bellies, time and time again!  I suspect they were jumping for joy and shouting,”Woo hoo!  We ditched ’em!”

It was like discovering your house is haunted with friendly ghosts going about their business, oblivious to that other world, except on those occasions when your worlds intersect.  I decided the rolling ocean is The Poker Face of the World, and just beneath the surface, a swirl of emotions, life and death struggles, joy, pain, drama, and countless stories play themselves out.

There was no way a camera could have recorded that breathtaking experience, and no way I would ever need the help of a camera to recall it.  Just when I resolved and resigned myself to a camera-free existence, Eli and I went for an afternoon walk.

And he taught me how to take photos with his Smart Phone.

 

Okay, forget everything I just told you about a camera-free life.  Because then Saint Eli indulged me completely, taking me back to revisit all the beautiful sights I’d admired.  We snapped all these pics and more with his Smart Phone.

Pretty pictures of stationary subjects…

 …that practically come when you whistle for them.

Other photos depended upon conditions like weather.

Or light.

Or where our feet happened to take us.

 

 My favorite shots are the unexpected ones, that dropped like ripe fruit falling from a tree into my lap.

Sweet.

Sweeter.

Sweetest!

 

As we sat on the beach watching the sun set, directly ahead of us a whale leapt out of the ocean so close I could see the lines on its belly.  It thrust one long fin into the air and waved goodbye. Exhilarating! A flash of wonder!  A glimpse of the sacred just for us! It is forever engraved in our memories and upon our hearts.

But I’m THRILLED that Eli caught it on his Smart Phone!

 

 

Okay, time to come clean.  I ADORE chasing rainbows…

…and I will ALWAYS go for the gold!

WOO HOO!

All images and words copyright Naomi Baltuck (and Eli Garrard!)

Click here for more interpretations of The Weekly Travel Theme: Clean.

Colores Locales

Wherever we go, there is color all around.  Sometimes the colors are muted, but still, they are painting our world beautiful.

In Mexico, color is a feast for the eyes, a celebration…absorbed through all the senses.

From the jungle parfait…

..to the pink cotton candy clouds.

We could hear colors in the music.

We saw it in the art…

…and in their traditional dress.

We tasted it in the wine…

…and felt it in the colorful characters we were fortunate enough to meet.

…including some we will never forget.


I’ve never seen water so intensely blue.

Or skin so intensely red…

…flora so purple…

…leaves so green…

Colors were hiding everywhere, just below the surface…

…ready to burst out and surprise us.

And everywhere we turned, there were rainbows.

We love Seattle, our silver city by the sea, but long after we had flown back north….

…Long after our footprints had been washed away in the sand…

…to tide us over on those cold and gray Seattle days, we carried a bit of the Mexican rainbow home in our hearts.

Click here for more interpretations of The Weekly Travel Theme: Colorful.

Click here for more interpretations of   The Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge: Color.

All words and images c2013NaomiBaltuck

Embracing the ‘M’ Word

On our recent trip to Mexico, we had a Mayan guide, Murux.

 

I was worn out with the extreme heat and sun, after walking around Chichen Itza, a huge complex of Mayan ruins.

  In between visits to Mayan ruins, Murux took us to Cenote Sagrado Azul.  A cenote is a sinkhole or cave providing access to the extensive system of underground and underwater caves beneath the Yucatan Peninsula.  Of the estimated 30, 000 cenotes, a few are open to the public for swimming.  Murux says the Mayans regarded them as sacred entrances to the Underworld.  I was a little skeptical when I saw this sign. I mentioned once that I only swim in the warm waters off the Hawaiian Islands.  I don’t like being cold.  Nor do I like public showers, public pools, or making public appearances in my swimsuit.  But my husband Thom gave me a gentle nudge (with a sharp stick), and somehow I found myself suited up, reluctantly stepping into the open outdoor shower outside the entrance to Cenote Sagrado Azul.  Dripping wet, I walked past the security guard through the archway, and looked down from the rim into the cenote.  In that instant, I was transported from the oppressive heat of a dusty dry world into another world entirely.  With its hanging vines, watery echoes, and tiny streams dripping down stone walls into a jade pool, it was like a scene from a Tarzan or an Indiana Jones movie.

I descended slippery stone steps through a tunnel into the actual cave, along with a swarm of tourists who had just arrived by bus. We all stepped into an underground chamber, open to the sky, with sunlight filtering down through the vines.

  Stairs hugged the wall, leading up to a ledge where swimmers took turns making flying leaps into the water.  No fear of hitting the bottom—this was the entrance to the Underworld, and it was bottomless. Thom marched into line and took the plunge.  I’d already embraced my familiar and comfortable role as photographer and journalist, and I clung to it like a life raft.  I did touch my toe to the water, and it was cold.  I didn’t want to leave my camera hanging unguarded on a post.  And there were all those velvety black catfish-like creatures swimming around in there… Like a mahout with a stubborn elephant,Thom backed me down the first couple rungs of a small wooden ladder.  I was in up to my waist before I balked.  A woman, already in the water, said something in Spanish, and she started to peel my fingers away from the ladder.  I was shocked at this breach of personal space, and held on even tighter.  The woman laughed, and slapped at my hands.  It was clear that she wasn’t going to go away, and she wasn’t going to give up.  Some part of me really wanted to let go, and I knew I would probably regret it if I did not take that plunge.  I released my grip, and splashed backwards into the cool clear water. The word ‘magic,’ is overused.  But the ‘M’ word is the only one I can think of to describe that moment, that magic, that Mexico, that me.  I surfaced, the woman smiled, and melted into the crowd, like an angel who had come down to earth, completed her mission, and moved on.   The tour bus must’ve recalled its passengers, because when I swam out to the center of the pool and looked back, I felt like the only person in a world where time did not exist.  It was like learning to breathe again.  It was a baptism.  It was letting go of the heat, the shyness, the fear.  It was a little like falling in love.

I am now a believer.  And not only in spirit guides.  I now know it’s possible to step through the entrance to the Underworld, and exist in that sacred place where kings and princesses bathe and are renewed.

All words and images c2013 Naomi Baltuck

Click here for more interpretations of The Weekly Photo Challenge: Roy G. Biv

Here is a link for more interpretations of Jake’s Sunday Post: Entrances.