Dark-blue

He talked to her about her eyes, how that they were beautiful dark-blue seas, and that thoughts and feelings floated like mermaids therein; and he spoke of her brow, how that it was a fair snowy mountain, and many other such like things he told her.

In the dark-blue sky you keep, And often through my curtains peep, For you never shut your eye, Till the sun is in the sky.

She looked at him tenderly and with a sad expression in her dark-blue eyes, but could not speak.

In the late 1980s and in the 1990s, a couple of my favourite singers were Enya and Tracy Chapman. With headphones and a disc player, I listened to their music at my software workplace, an old brick building, the windows showing the harbour and railroad tracks that went beside the quaint Gastown district of the city of Vancouver, BC. I wore then a heavy dark-blue winter jacket with shoulder straps; it made me look like a student soldier from the 19th century.

In the morning of the 5th of September of 2022, at the Lulu Island café, Greg and I discuss sociopolitical and anthropological issues. Firstly, Greg shows me his brown pocket Modern-English Bible. I tell him that I have a big purple Tagalog Bible and a dark-blue pocket Jehovah's Witnesses' Tagalog Bible. We both know that in both English and Tagalog, there are various versions of the Bible. Then we talk about Alaska, once Russian territory, and the big Mississippi River Basin, once French territory. I tell Greg about the teleseries, Anash and the Legacy of the Sun-Rock, about the life of native Tlingit tribespeople in contact with Russians in southern Alaska and northern BC. I know that not just in BC, there are handsome hybrid children from Europeans and First Nations mixing. We talk about Brazil, which, I say, has three main blending peoples, whites, reds, and blacks. The Philippines is different from Brazil, where there are Nordics, not just Mediterraneans, amongst whites. There are Mexican-looking Filipinos in the café. From my Filipino friend Chris S., a linguist, I hear about a "Mexipino Fest" held on the 3rd of this month in Santa Cruz in California, as Filipinos and Mexicans celebrated their rich cultures. I may want to be a "Mexipino," so I should practice my Spanish, of which I do know a lot already. I am reading Bram Stoker's Drácula in Spanish, as Halloween approaches. I am also reading an Esperanto book, Memoraĵoj de kampara knabo, by Xosé Neira Vilas.