That night, after a wonderful dinner filled with fresh fruits and vegetables, we headed out on our a canoe to go searching for caymans. The process began with a slender, knife shaped boat roughly 3 inches above the water, a drunk tour guide, and no lights/verbal communication allowed.
Fun in my eyes, not in the eyes of some.
It is quite amazing that people are actually scared of the dark. I thought, usually, that once you've grown out of those bad Friday the 13th horror films from the 80s, you would pretty much be happy and content with living in a dark scenario. But perhaps I haven't quite explained the darkness of this specific scenario.
Dark isn't when you turn off the lights and you're room goes black and still, as thoughts pour in to your mind about the unknown and unseen. Dark is when you are outside, in the middle of the jungle, on a weak ass, sketchy canoe rolling up the amazon river in search of monsters, listening to living animals being ripped to shreds on the shoreline as the same monsters get their dinner. That is what I mean by dark. I guess I shouldn't judge. I won't judge them, but I will say it was an oxymoron of feelings, terrifying enjoyment.
The first 5 minutes of the dark adventure began with silence, and admiration for the stars as we drifted downriver narrowly escaping the clutches of fallen trees and
piranhas. When you look up at the stars on a clear night in the jungle, it's not like looking up at the stars when you're camping. It is like looking at spilled salt on a black table, but with sections of red, blue, green and other cosmo gases and nebula in space. There is some serious shit up there. I have never seen colour in the sky, nor have I seen galaxy formations. You can see it all! There is no light pollution around (how are you going to get electricity and power into the middle of the fucking jungle?
Are you crazy
Gonzo
Myrosha Daley - Mount Seymour
Grouse Mountain - Showdown Over the City
Park Royal - LG Mountain Festival
Playboard Magazine Photo Issue 2008/Eric Greene/Grouse Mountain
Jeff Keetley - Geoff Anruik Photo
After an amazing night in a black blanket of abyss, I found an ease and a rest in a bed filled with a lavender scent. Not the lavender scent of a cheap Febreeze spray, but moreso the scent of fresh flowers under the pillows. It probably wasn't lavender but my tired mind imagined it so.
Sunset Birds, in black and white of course
Capivara on the side of the river
The butterfly that looks like an owl
Piglet biting my foot
Another butterfly
Amazon River
That night, after a wonderful dinner filled with fresh fruits and vegetables, we headed out on our a canoe to go searching for caymans. The process began with a slender, knife shaped boat roughly 3 inches above the water, a drunk tour guide, and no lights/verbal communication allowed.
Promptly after arriving at my new home in the jungle, I drained whatever amount of chicken broth that my body would allow and fell asleep. I awoke to my cousin shaking me saying that it was time for our first hike. We were about to embark on a 2 hour hike through a non-distant trail at roughly 9pm when I realized that I was not going to survive carrying my bag. Regrettably, I decided to leave my camera behind and we set off on foot.
On the way there, our tour guide, Hugo, began teaching us about the jungle. Amongst the many fascinating things there are, he told us of this strangler tree that grows from the top down. It spreads in the bird's poo on leaves, and starts growing when the sun hits it. It slowly grows downwards from the tops of trees until it hits the ground. It envelopes the tree beneath it and robs it from nitrogen and solar light, killing it.
