🌊 I drank the moon's reflection 🌊

hello i am River 🦦 (they/them) art and nature are my life

[ancientorigins]

Quote of the day…

[winedark-maverick]

i love you green. i love you forests. i love you smell of damp earth. i love you feeling before the storm breaks. i love you moss. i love you rivers. i love you streams. i love you thunderstorms. i love you sunlight shining through leaves.

[futurebird]

There are places deep in the earth where the water is crystal clear or it would be, if there were any light. All of the sediment, all of the dust has settled long ago. All of the gasses have escaped. These hidden volumes of water, like houses. Like the space between bridges. The space between you and the sky. Huge empty spaces that are not empty. Frozen glass. The water is still. The water is silent. The water is transparent as the mountain air on a starless, moonless, windless night.

[xanaxfarts]

[julesofnature]

Eat bread and understand comfort. Drink water, and understand delight. Visit the garden where the scarlet trumpets are opening their bodies for the hummingbirds who are drinking the sweetness, who are thrillingly gluttonous.

For one thing leads to another. Soon you will notice how stones shine underfoot. Eventually tides will be the only calendar you believe in.

And someone’s face, whom you love, will be as a star both intimate and ultimate, and you will be both heart-shaken and respectful. And you will hear the air itself, like a beloved, whisper: oh, let me, for a while longer, enter the two beautiful bodies of your lungs.

-excerpt from 'To Begin With, the Sweet Grass', by Mary Oliver

[petaltexturedskies]

Apricity (n.) — the warmth of the sun in winter, a subtle warmth that kisses the skin with a softness unexpected in the season's chill.

[exhaled-spirals]

« True gardeners cannot bear a glove Between the sure touch and the tender root, Must let their hands grow knotted as they move With a rough sensitivity about Under the earth, between the rock and shoot, Never to bruise or wound the hidden fruit. And so I watched my mother's hands grow scarred, She who could heal the wounded plant or friend With the same vulnerable yet rigorous love; I minded once to see her beauty gnarled, But now her truth is given me to live, As I learn for myself we must be hard To move among the tender with an open hand, And to stay sensitive up to the end Pay with some toughness for a gentle world. »

— May Sarton, "An Observation"

[weltenwellen]

May Sarton, from "She Shall Be Called Woman", Selected Poems

[fleur-aesthetic]

instagram | littlefarmhouseflowers

[etherea1ity]

Adriatic Sea by Mauro Roberto Scalabroni

[gulistan-blog]

㋡🥀

[happyheidi]

~ 𝖯𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝖻𝗒 𝖸𝗏𝖺𝗇𝗇 𝖫𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗎𝗋

[geopsych]

Two years ago in early July the pickerel weed was in bloom.

[rhubarbes]

Jalal Merzoug

[gazophylacium]

Decoratively painted beehives, Zalipie, Poland.

[thekimonogallery]

‘Crows and the Moon’ - Ogata Korin, Japan.

[legendary-scholar-deactivated20]

The Metzlers’ conservatory, Delaware.

Only 300 square feet, the conservatory blends the centuries-old tradition of glass shelters designed to house exotic plants and the new tiny house movement, in which people gravitate toward smaller, intimate spaces. Think of it as a petite palace, a manor in miniature, a castle cocoon.

The domed conservatory has marble floors and a panoramic view that skips across 15 acres of garden and grounds to the lapping shore of Delaware’s Nanticoke River.