seen from Brazil
seen from Libya
seen from Iraq
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Ukraine
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from United States
vastness and intimacy
The galaxy spills across the night, a river of forgotten time, flowing where no map can follow.
(Photo: d.)
I don’t know why I like these viewpoints, but I do. / By mybloodstainedink
Loss: streets that never answer back, fog that keeps what it takes.
(Photo: d.)
Every path begins as a rumor,
a quiet suggestion in the earth,
someone once believed in that direction.
(Photo: d.)
This is a forest, no more, no less.
Light through branches, moss, roots, fallen wood — a patient arrangement of time and growth.
There is no intention here, no message waiting to be solved. The world simply continues whether or not I understand it.
Whatever meaning I could impose is optional — and today, I choose not to.
This is a forest, no more, no less.
(Photo: d.)
Some choices grow into forests you can never leave.
(Photo: d.)
Circles of light in frozen air, brief infinities drawn by unsteady hands.
(Photo: d.)
My friend, the forest, is quiet and respectful.
Teeming with life and dignified growth.
Photosynthesis is my companion now.
The world enters through leaves, breaks apart in silence, and returns as something I can almost live with.
(Photo: d.)
