Indradhanusha

One morning, we found a rainbow.

Wildflower Wednesdays: Louseworts Aren’t Lousy

The name lousewort is rather unfortunate.

Wildflower Wednesdays: Forget Me the Flowers

Ne m'oubilez pas. (On love stories and flowers.)

Wildflower Wednesdays: Anemones in the Air

For this week's Wildflower Wednesday, I present: a flower of whose identity I am not at all certain. You'll have to forgive me. I believe it is a species of rock anemone, mostly because of its similarity to individuals of that group and also the fact that's it's a flower, growing amongst rocks. My acuity…

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Wildflower Wednesdays: Clusters of Color

Ladies and gentlemen, I present you the clustered rhodiola. It isn't the standard wildflower: hasn't got a visible pollen center, not strictly defined petals. It survives all year round, favoring rock crevices, where it can grow easily, but flowers from June till August. This one was spotted at Tarsar Pass, overlooking the beautiful blue Tarsar…

Lady of the Flowers

Painted Ladies are the most widely distributed butterfly: found on every continent except for Antarctica and Australia, they're so ubiquitous even halfway across the world, in a continent I was totally unfamiliar with, they were the sole butterfly I managed to identify in Jordan. This individual was spotted at the other end of the continental…

Webbed

A spiderweb glistens with raindrops in the early morning in Bangalore.

Wildflower Wednesdays

Our hike in the Himalayas last August was not defined by its birds, surprisingly enough. Rather, it was defined by its flowers. I tend to avoid flowers, except when as an attraction for butterflies, as a photography subject: stationary plants seem too easy, too facile. But the sheer range we saw in the mountains made…

Red

It has been raining in Singapore lately. Not, of course, as much as Chennai - but enough that the patch of grass outside our home is filled with a different fungi each day, and that we can set our clock to the 3:00 monsoon. These red pinwheel fungi are one of the results of the…

The Light Rising

i call this – a salt-stained, Midas-rimmed kiss. it fingers the horizon, caresses the waves. disappears with nothing but a facsimile of hope in its ash-ringed wake. *waves nervously* I'm back! I was away the past week, travelling, mostly: not many birds to show for it, or photographs - still, enjoyable (though a trip sans…