Sydney humidity reminding me of our time in the jungle, so hot that heat rose out of the ground as steam and pulsated upwards into heavy clouds. Here plants would unfurl and reveal flowers in a matter of hours. The forest seemed to have its own presence, living and breathing from below and all around us.
I read recently that trees and plants communicate with each other by sending electric signals through the pathways of fungi in the ground. Trees grow in clusters and when one dies, the family around it sometimes send sustenance to keep the roots alive for hundreds of years. If one learns how to listen, a forest can be filled with these families and their gentle voices. This is only true for natural forests though. Forests planted by humans grow in quiet and don’t communicate with one another.
Photos from the beautiful Bolivian spa retreat that turned out to be a total scam…
This view of La Isla de la Luna was maybe the most beautiful thing my eyes have ever seen. Behind you can see the faint outline of Mount Illimani, partially obscured by cloud. We were so far up in the sky the clouds lay below us most of the time.
Whenever I go away for a while I think about time and the inevitability of it. Depending on the day I try to hurry it by or let the days drip by slowly; either way there is never more than an endless present and sudden end.
When I’m home again the memories jumble and mutate so that the only place they remain linear is in my photos.
I saw this horse a few weeks into travelling Colombia. I was feeling exhausted but about to catch a second wind of energy that would carry me through South America. At that point the trip seemed unending.