life is about moments; don’t wait for them, create them
November already? The softer light and sweeter warmth of autumn in Sardinia, leaves turning glorious shades of red and gold, olive harvesting and preparing for winter, birds heading off on their migratory pathways to warmer climes… I don’t know about you but I’m feeling the seasonal change and with it a sort of drowsy, dreamy languor with drifts of nostalgia.
I roused myself a few weeks ago to attend a wake for a dear friend who passed away recently, too soon, too young. She was a beautiful soul with a generous heart who made everyone she met feel like she’d known them forever – a fighter for good causes, a free spirit with a bright mind and humorous sense of irony, a lover of all things artistic. The wake was held on the beach at sunset under the full moon. Many friends gathered on the sand and there were tears and laughter, singing and dancing, story telling and poetry readings… even a little Neruda on the beach. She would have loved it! It’s hard to say good bye, to let go, but the consolation, I guess, is in remembering the joyful moments spent together and there were many with her in this beautiful place.
Grief is not an easy thing, is it. It’s not something you get over. It’s something you grow around. My father passed away 25 years ago and I still miss him. As I spend these autumnal afternoons mostly curled up on the sofa with my laptop and the sun streaming through french doors to the garden, I’ve embarked on a new little writing project – a memoir of my father. It feels ambitious but it’s all very slow with a lot of reflecting and remembering and researching. I suspect it’s actually more about me, the daughter, having a mid life reckoning of sorts.
When he passed away I inherited a few items from him, including some paintings. Among them were a couple of paintings of flamingos. He’d been experimenting with painting using sand and they have an odd texture to them. It’s not that I love flamingos. They do tend to provoke, for me at least, visions of kitschy old folks’ gardens in Florida. Fascinating for sure but not a creature that has any great significance for me or so I thought until recently when it occurred to me that they’ve followed me through my life. In fact I’ve actively sought them out. I have yet to decide if this has any significant meaning or if it’s just coincidence that they have made their various appearances.
I travelled quite a lot with my father as a child, often to Mexico in winter. It’s where I first saw flamingos… and pelicans, sloths, anteaters, turtles, and other more tropical creatures. To my little eyes flamingos were curiously awesome but also pink so weird but somehow safe. It is also the name of a hotel in Acapulco which was near where we usually stayed. Quite a famous hotel actually.
Hotel Los Flamingos in Acapulco is the the famous former private hideaway resort of the “Hollywood Gang” led by John Wayne and Johnny Weissmuller (Olympic Swimmer and original Tarzan). Stars of Hollywood’s “Golden Era” came here to lounge by day and party by night. The vibe of old world charm and exclusivity remains here, tucked away just off the beaten path, minutes from downtown. Here you are transported to an era when life was simpler. It’s the perfect place to get away from it all.
In later life, when my father was running his Acapulco art workshops, painting his flamingos, it’s where they’d go for the final group farewell dinner. I joined them once and it had really retained something of that old Hollywood charm and the sunsets over the pacific were truly spectacular. And, what a lovely evening it was. A joyful celebration filled with laughter, happiness for the shared creative journey they’d been on, but also a few tears at having to say good-bye.
Some years later, a young mother living in Morocco, I discovered that there was a lagoon a bit north of us which had flamingos and decided to investigate. I roped in a good friend and we made a day of it. We rented a little row boat from some local fishermen, rowed first to a teeny tiny island where we picnicked and danced around with the children, and then softly, slowly, glided our way into the lagoon where thousands of flamingos were tiptoeing about, having their own picnic. What a splendid sight! and to be so close. The light was soft, the air slightly misty, and there was something quite magical about sitting quietly in our little boat watching. Like watching a ballet. There is something so elegant, graceful, almost regal about flamingos. For some reason we didn’t take photos, perhaps so as not to frighten them off. My daughter got her first kiss in our little fishing boat. Little Tristan had decided he was her knight in shining armour. The sweetness of the moment was captured in the photo below. A photo which fills my heart with joy every time I look at it. We returned to shore, bought some fresh crabs from the fishermen, and headed home for a crab fest. A beautiful memory!
I was delighted to discover there are flamingos here in Sardinia too! Quite a lot in fact. One bright sunny morning, a couple of summers ago, I woke up and said to my husband, ‘let’s go find the flamingos!’ So we did. We drove north to Stintino but had no luck finding them so turned and drove a few hours south towards Oristano where there was another lagoon, a kind of salt pond, swamp, wetlands – called Arrubia. Eventually we found them. They were quite far out and difficult to photograph so no real record apart from the memories in my head. It turned out to be another wonderful little adventure, a memorable day trip. We nosed around some of the old fishing spots around the lagoon with old huts used by the co-operative that manages the fishing activity in the wetlands, including the production of the famous bottarga, air dried mullet fish eggs, a kind of caviar – too salty and fishy for me but my husband loves the stuff and makes an ‘aglio, olio, peperoncino’ pasta with finely chopped bottarga! We also popped by Tharros, one of the many archeological sites here and a short drive from the flamingos. Tharros has layers of history embedded in it from the Phoenicians, Nuraghe, Carthagenians, Romans… It’s a fascinating site to explore with stunning views over the Med. I find it oddly reassuring that I’m living on an island surrounded by pockets of pink flamingos. I’ve even played around with making my own flamingo paintings recently.
There are so many quotes about living in the moment, life being about moments, and I feel there is a lot of truth in this. I feel grateful to have had so many beautiful, often simple, sometimes life altering, occasionally bitter sweet, moments through my life, accompanied by special people. The memories of these are triggered not just by photos but often by little sensory nudges – sight, sound, touch, taste – and also, in my case, flamingos!
I recently came across this little video about the history of the lawn flamingo. I’ve always loved interior design, even thought of pursuing it as a career at one point. It’s remained a personal hobby and passion, I guess, which has travelled with me around the globe. Textiles in particular have always fascinated me. I subscribe to lots of interior designers, design magazines and forums, and one of my favourites is the rather quirky Caroline Winkler. She recently started a series of shorts with Wayfair on iconic objects and one of them took a journey into the history of the flamingo lawn ornament. It’s colourful and kitschy – a fun little piece!
Well, that’s me. Your turn! Any animals dogging your path as you journey through life? And, if you feel like sharing, I’d be delighted to hear about some of your special moments! Drop me a note in the comments below. Would love to hear your thoughts…
ciao per ora bellissime sorelle
F ox
PS This post was written on 06/11/23 for my Substack ‘The Blue Stockings Society – 21st C Edition’ You can check it out here and subscribe if interested. I’m also hedging my bets on community building with a Facebook community group of the same name where there is more space for people to initiate discussion. Search Facebook for @bluestockings or go directly using this link on Facebook The Blue Stockings Society – women who think, write, create
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