bioneural.net » africa

Castles in the sand

Bruce — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 14:55:02 +0000

From http://www.bioneural.net doi:tSglPpAB7a8nfM :

Taken at Sugar Beach, Flic en Flac, Republic of Mauritius. Click thumbnail to enlarge imageCastles in the sand

IOTW: Reclining nude

Bruce — Mon, 11 Dec 2006 08:50:26 +0000

From http://www.bioneural.net doi:tSglPpAB7a8nfM :

This shot was taken at Dune 45 in the Namib desert, where the heat can play tricks with your mind. Click thumbnail to enlarge image Reclining nude, Namib desert Want to see more from IOTW? Click here for an archive view.

IOTW: Treeforms

Bruce — Mon, 24 Jul 2006 13:34:27 +0000

From http://www.bioneural.net doi:tSglPpAB7a8nfM :

No politics this week; an uncomplicated natural scene instead—or is it an alien landscape? My notes The muted tones of this image were captured at Sesriem, not far from the world-famous Dune 45 in Namibia. We were there in 2002. I walked out from the campsite into the open expanse of parched grassland, enchanted by the silhouettes made against it by the dark bark of the low trees. The oxidized sand making up the dunes in the distance helps create a landscape that is decidedly alien in appearance. Enjoy. Click thumbnail to enlarge image Treeforms at Sesriem, Namibia Your notes Do you have a favourite alien landscape? Do you find this one easy on the eye? Want to see more from IOTW? Click here for an archive view.

Begging letters from UNICEF

Bruce — Thu, 23 Jun 2005 12:22:59 +0000

From http://www.bioneural.net doi:tSglPpAB7a8nfM :

You do the right thing. You make a donation towards the Asian tsunami relief effort which is gratefully received. To show how grateful they are UNICEF then start sending you begging letters from Africa in the guise of a personal appeal. They do this despite your not "opting in" when making a donation: Sorry UNICEF, but this is unacceptable behaviour. This, combined with recent reports about huge taxes on vehicles imported for relief work, will make me stop and think come the next disaster.

The desert landscapes of Namibia

Bruce — Tue, 20 Apr 2004 06:58:23 +0000

From http://www.bioneural.net doi:tSglPpAB7a8nfM :

If you like deserts, you'll like Namibia. There is enormous beauty in the dry, open landscapes that attest to the fact that here, less is more... Namibia is a very dry country in south-west Africa. In 2002 we camped at Sesriem in the Namib desert, surrounded by dry grassland that was interrupted by the dark and eery shapes of dormant trees: Treeforms One of these stumps had a distinctly demonic appearance: Demon in the wood From Sesriem tourists drive to Dune 45 to climb it and watch the sunrise. One of the last up I was first down, retracing our steps, and the sight of so many foot prints next to the undisturbed ripples made me feel momentarily sorry for having spoiled the beautiful patterns in the sand: Impact Still low over the dunes, the rising sun stretched our shadows across the sand, making for a somewhat comical sight as our disproportionately long legs descended the ridge of the dune as though we walked on stilts: Sandwalkers At the base of Dune 45 a dead tree took on human form as it was illuminated by the sunrise: Reclining nude At Elim Dune, also near Sesriem, the wind has sculpted a perfect curve. The smooth oxidized sand contrasts with the pallor and texture of the sun-baked grass: Perfect curve At Elim Dune the combination of sand, wind, and setting sun had created a serrated edge that would soon be destroyed by a dozen pairs of feet and backsides as we took up a position from which to watch the landscape change colour in the ...

Filth, poverty, and free choice

Bruce — Sat, 20 Mar 2004 14:47:49 +0000

From http://www.bioneural.net doi:tSglPpAB7a8nfM :

What causes filth? What is the relationship between filth and poverty? Why do some people who could choose to be tidy, or choose to wash, choose not to? Theroux describes unsavory conditions on a delayed Tanzanian train in his heavy-going and disjointed recollection of a journey from Cairo to Cape Town (Theroux P. Dark star safari. 2003. Penguin, London. p.266): No showers made this hot train reek with the smell of unwashed humanity. The toilets were vile. The dining car was filthy, not that there was any food after such delays... A little activity with a broom, a mop, a scrubbing brush, and the trip would have been agreeable. Delays did not seriously bother me. I had no deadline, nor anyone to meet me. But the dirt, the litter, the shit, and the drunks made this side of travel in Africa hard to bear... The pressure of numbers and very poor maintenance made smooth running impossible, but there was no excuse for the filth. Having just posted my own disjointed notes of an African journey to this blog, I could relate well to his observations. But it was the above passage that got me thinking: What causes filth? What is the relationship between filth and poverty? Why do some people who could choose to be tidy, or choose to wash, choose not to? The causes of filth What makes the girl outside Century 21 in Manhattan drop her cigarette butt onto the pavement before entering the store, walking right past the ash tray provided exclusively ...

African sojourn

Bruce — Sat, 20 Mar 2004 05:40:24 +0000

From http://www.bioneural.net doi:tSglPpAB7a8nfM :

Flashback to 1991. A lone medical student makes his first trip to Africa, passing through Zimbabwe and Zambia en-route to Malawi... The Dark Continent The Day Star, sulking low in the haze of a winter horizon lights, but barely does it warm. There are few colours in the frost-crippled botanical gardens although the earliest of blossoms now appear, signalling life's eagerness to flourish at winter's end. Ducks waddle with exaggerated unsteadiness across the surface of their frozen pond, while sparrows peck expectantly in the mud and among the fallen leaves. This crisp day predicts a cold night, one sure to thicken the existing coating of ice always found in the abode of shadows. Children are skipping in play-motion, singles reading and couples talking, huddled on the benches. And the dreamers, we are dreaming... like the others, expelling condensation with every breath. Winter is a time of the senses... a reminder of vulnerability... the recollection of past suffering at the hands of Nature. And how our kind must have suffered upon leaving the warmth of our African cradle, exposed in both nakedness and naivete. Were it not for the endowment of intellect, our ancestors could not have wandered so widely, and I could never bear witness to such a winter in southern New Zealand. Africa. It's very name commands images of animal majesty, and human prehistory. As a child of Africa, of sorts, how could I not return? Nowhere but in Africa has one such a strong sense of being Natures' subject rather than ...