“Now I am surely becoming an incurable romantic.”
— Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals; p. 51

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@mielpomene
“Now I am surely becoming an incurable romantic.”
— Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals; p. 51
Dewdrops on Snowdrops | DeanMarston on Pixabay
Dark Academia in Winter.
Sylvia Plath
Chauve-souris lantern, France, ca.1930s
tonight’s mood is the deep desire to be held close in a dimly lit room, covered in blankets while rain is softly falling outside
Whats the point of owning 19th century natural history books if you dont take pictures of them in the sun?
who wants to come with me to pick wildflowers in a late august thunderstorm where our hair clings to our necks and our thin flowing dresses grow sheer and raindrops rest on our eyelashes and our toes dig into the mud and the lavender glows through the mist and everything seems eerie but also so calm
Botany academia
dark academia but you live in the countryside
wax jackets (barbour or similar) with lots of pockets… you can carry so many books in a poacher’s pocket
battered leather boots that were smart once
walking through a village graveyard with the sun at your back, warming you slightly in the crisp morning
always carrying a pocketknife (opinels are preferable)
tweed jackets - practical and warm (and classic da)
sketching the animals and plants around you and pinning them up in your room
collecting insects and labelling them neatly in their boxes
finding a sun-bleached sheep skull on a mountainside and taking it home
wandering across fields and moors with no particular aim in mind, and a hip flask full of whisky to keep you warm
stone churches in tiny villages, the smell of old bibles, sun through stained glass windows
taking a stack of books down to the river to sit and read in the sun
riding your bike down to the village library, occupying the only table for the afternoon
paddling barefoot down freezing streams, trousers rolled to your knees, cutting your feet on the rocks and feeling alive
𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧
the woodland academic, wandering the woods, the trees lendig her their wisdom as the passages of her book form themselves on her lips✨
ig: notes.and.teacupstains