Game of Thrones Daily
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NASA
JVL
dirt enthusiast
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
trying on a metaphor
h
todays bird
blake kathryn
Xuebing Du
Peter Solarz
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
@theartofmadeline
KIROKAZE
🪼
almost home
styofa doing anything
Kiana Khansmith
Claire Keane
seen from Türkiye
seen from Germany
seen from Brunei
seen from Malaysia
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from India
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United Kingdom
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seen from United States
seen from Indonesia
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@solarpunkqueen
The frost bitten December landscape still finds a way to shine.
Even in the cold the Earth seeks out a way to reflect the sun.
To shine back just a little light.
An offering of gratitude.
In the hope that within its own reflection the sun may see something lovely enough to sustain.
Something beautiful enough to call itself life.
It’s the time of year when I start to slip into the shadows of my mind.
The deep desires and passions no longer able to hide beneath the surface.
Scorpio season over I find myself face to face with all my shadows.
Sagittarius season upon me challenges me to integrate it all.
To find peace within the storms, light in darkness, life after death.
So I flow and evolve.
Allow the wildness to take me.
Trusting in my journey.
Aligned with the spirit of he wild woman within.
Found some false turkey tails that almost had me fooled today.
They were velvety and beautiful on top but underneath they were hard and smooth.
Either way they were a beautiful find on this beautiful November Day.
A day that I’m choosing to be grateful on but not celebrating as a holiday.
There is nothing to celebrate about the atrocities that took place in order for the colonization and theft of this land to occur.
Remember all that propaganda is just a false turkey tail. Pretty on top but hard and cold underneath, feasting on the death of other cultures, peoples, and beings.
Turkey Tails.
Blue Ridge Mountains October 2022
Missing home.
Yet home doesn’t exist like this anymore.
There is a special kind of ache when we long for the things we will never see again.
A kind of hollow longing that in the end reminds us that time is always passing.
Nothing stays the same.
Cycles shift.
We move on.
Yet a part of us is always left behind.
Trapped behind the empty windows.
Collecting dust.
Longing for the places we once called our own.
Sunday reading.
Trying to remember all the things my lineage has lost.
All the knowledge and wisdom that took centuries to develop.
The cultures and magic.
The undying faith in something more while living life simply.
This is what I long for.
This is what I’m reviving in my soul.
Trust your journey.
It’s yours alone.
We find the path by walking it.
By listening to our intuition.
In the tiny decisions we make everyday.
By staying grounded in the present.
In our bodies.
In our truth.
Little baby mushrooms for your Friday
There will always be something new
to discover: a minute moss never
found before, a rabbit eating
birdseed with the bores on a hungry
November day, a bittern that stays
only long enough to be remembered.
- Ann Zwinger
A garden full of Marigolds.
Lingering long into the cold.
A beautiful reminder of summer.
Days full of sun.
A reminder that beauty is all around when we just know where to look.
I always feel at home surrounded by the trees. Even at my lowest they remind me how important it is to grow in silence.
