@theartofmadeline
Sweet Seals For You, Always
★
Noah Kahan
#extradirty
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Fai_Ryy
macklin celebrini has autism
Game Changer & Make Some Noise
Cosimo Galluzzi
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
roma★
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Phantogram Three
todays bird
The Bowery Presents
occasionally subtle
art blog(derogatory)
TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr
untitled
seen from Vietnam
seen from United States
seen from United States
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seen from Peru
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seen from Mexico
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@on-the-planet-zzzz
My Tags:
A Whisper: my personal posts
Chorus of Trees: interactions/ replies
A Howling: ask posts/ asking followers a question
The Grove: asks
Green Court: humanoid pics
Meadow Dweller: animal pics
A Humming: music
Trinkets: other pics
They Wander: words that are not mine
Bones and Botany - E. Moss
I heard the trees whispering about you. They're so excited to see your Spring Era. You're blooming. It's been a long winter, but can't you feel the warmth of the sun on your skin?
peekaboo
Daily French Etymology #58
Champignon (mushroom)
Champignon came from the Vulgar Latin *campāniolus, meaning 'grows in the field'. This in turn was derived from the Latin campāneus, meaning relating to fields, from campānia, meaning countryside or cultivable land. Campānia itself was derived from campus, meaning level ground. Campus is of uncertain etymology.
* Indicates a reconstructed word
Deep in the woods, a mushroom friend
I am always making choices, turning through grass and grove and evergreen– each step I take presses clear in earth. I may never return to who I was before, and there is no center to this labyrinth, nor any meaning to my wheeling ways. I turn. I must keep going, or the vines will grow around me, and I will never turn again.
Happy Daze
Watercolor and Gouache on Yellow Paper
2019, 9"x 12"
White Daisies
Private Collection
Everything seemed to me to have an odour of damp earth and burial about it.
Hermann Hesse, from 'Steppenwolf', tr. David Horrocks
I thought the earth remembered me, she took me back so tenderly.
Choose one to sacrifice.
the old doe who has lost her swiftness and soon will fall to wolves
a childhood photo, fuzzy with time and nostalgia
a future moment of happiness so bright and sharp it aches the heart
the newborn bird and its damp feathers, begging for food so it may one day soar
the soft, slippery moment between being awake and falling asleep
her blood is warm and sticky, her pelt fly-bitten and scarred.
her children line up to pay their respects. so does the hunter who saw her at the salt lick years ago, saw the fawn at her side and spared her when you did not.
the wolves snap their teeth and howl, deprived of a meal. they growl and grumble and back away into the trees, still hungry.
世界遺産西芳寺・苔寺 / Details from Saiho-ji Temple. ♡
Constantly mumbling, talking, speaking, murmuring, announcing. But not thinking.
and the forest mumbles, the bubbling miss-match crosstalk of the water over river-bed. and the forest speaks, chitter-pause-chirp, call and response in the branches. and the forest announces, aged trunks letting out groans of still-here, reminding their saplings amongst whose roots they play. but the forest does not think. it does not plan. it is blank as the nightsky, pathless as the unstirred undergrowth at its feet. the forest sings with all its lungs, and it does not wonder about the song.
brandywine fog 1211 by John McNamara
Her
boofing
Baybekova Svetlana
