RMH
No title available
i don't do bad sauce passes
Game of Thrones Daily
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
No title available
Stranger Things
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
todays bird
cherry valley forever
Peter Solarz

No title available

oozey mess
Cosimo Galluzzi
dirt enthusiast
No title available

if i look back, i am lost

No title available

blake kathryn

No title available
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia
seen from Moldova

seen from Moldova

seen from Oman
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@matixmobeanie
My latest cross stitch finish, a cowboy bee on 18ct opalescent aida.
Pollen ain't gonna dispense itself! 🤠🐝
THEY LITERALLY HANG THEM UP TO DRY IN CRYING OH MY GOD
:-)
An abandoned potato sorting station near Krasnosilka, Ukraine with a unusual, cantilevered design. The concrete block at the end forms the counterweight of the structure, creating the impression it floats over the fields.
Photographer unknown.
Holding onto hope that flowers in the dark.
My 2020 Tumblr Top 10
1). 27.973 notes - Oct 3 2020
2). 10.707 notes - Feb 1 2020
3). 5.632 notes - Jun 6 2020
4). 3.732 notes - Mar 16 2020
5). 3.690 notes - Jan 28 2020
6). 3.630 notes - Feb 1 2020
7). 3.370 notes - Jun 10 2020
8). 2.991 notes - Jan 11 2020
9). 2.804 notes - Feb 27 2020
10). 2.490 notes - Jun 5 2020
Created by TumblrTop10
peter.rajkai
My 2020 Tumblr Top 10
1). 13.209 notes - May 24 2020
2). 12.432 notes - Feb 15 2020
3). 9.617 notes - Jul 12 2020
4). 8.373 notes - Nov 21 2020
5). 8.080 notes - May 22 2020
6). 6.289 notes - Jul 11 2020
7). 6.026 notes - Jul 1 2020
8). 5.193 notes - Nov 4 2020
9). 4.471 notes - Apr 24 2020
10). 4.184 notes - May 27 2020
Created by TumblrTop10
beograd 2019
Last summer my friend’s mom discovered hundreds of teeny tiny toad tadpoles in a puddle in her driveway. It was drying up, so she asked me about moving them to a nearby pond. I told her not to, because moving amphibians unnaturally between water bodies can spread disease.
So she filled up a watering can every morning and every evening and replenished the puddle, adding dechlorinator drops she uses for her fish tank to make sure the water was safe.
The tadpoles survived and grew up into little toads who eventually hopped out of the puddle.
I think about the tenderness and compassion of this a lot.
maison margiela double-buckle boots by thuszarathustra on depop
why test on animals when there are prisons full of rapists
bold of you to assume rapists actually go to prison
https://www.instagram.com/harriorrihar/ https://www.facebook.com/Harriorrihar/ https://harriorrihar.myportfolio.com/
“I lost a close friend to suicide during my senior year of high school. It was a really dark time for me. I kept thinking that I must have missed something, and that I could have been more supportive. The day after his funeral was particularly hard, so I drove out to the cemetery after school. It was the beginning of March. It was freezing. His grave didn’t even have a headstone yet, but I sat down on the ground and started to cry. After a few minutes I felt a hand on my shoulder. It freaked me out at first, because I’d thought I was alone. But I looked up and saw a man in his eighties. He told me his name was Jack, and asked me if I was OK. And I don’t know why, maybe because he was so much older, but I ended up telling him everything. He listened quietly, then he told me not to blame myself. And that the best way to honor someone was to live your life to the fullest. It was nothing too profound. And it was nothing that I hadn’t heard before. But it was something I needed to hear in that moment. Afterwards Jack told me that his wife Anna was buried at the cemetery. He told me that he visited her every day, and could still feel her presence, and he couldn’t wait to see her again. Then he asked if I’d like to visit her grave. From the way he’d spoken about her, I assumed that Anna had just passed away. But when we arrived at her marker, I saw that she’d been gone for sixteen years. We said our goodbyes, and Jack told me that he’d visit my friend’s grave whenever he stopped by the cemetery. And I promised to do the same for his wife. For years I kept that promise. I’d often find the same bouquet of flowers at both graves, so I knew that Jack was keeping his promise too. After I moved away for college, my trips to the cemetery grew further and further apart. Then a couple of years ago I went for a visit, and I couldn’t find Anna’s grave anywhere. I started to panic. But there were a lot of fall leaves on the ground, and it wasn’t an upright stone. So I thought maybe it was hidden. After a few minutes of searching, I finally found it. In the same place it had always been. Only this time there was a completely new gravestone, and Jack’s name was on it too.”