View allAll Photos Tagged FestiveFun,
Unwrapping the cuteness! 🎁 Nori, my playful little Maine Coon kitten, couldn’t resist diving into the festive box full of wrapping paper and cat toys. Watch her curiosity shine as she explores her new favorite play space. Her fluffy fur and adorable antics make every moment a joy to capture. #MaineCoonKitten #CatPhotography #FestiveFun #KittenAdventures #CutenessOverload #MaineCoonLove #KittenPlaytime”
The Chocolate Door at Nextra Teej Carnival Bring your friends and family for a fantastic experience!
#TheChocolateDoor #TeejCarnival #TraditionalFestivities #CulturalHeritage #LiveMusic #DancePerformances #HennaDesigns #TraditionalFood #ShoppingBazaar #TeejRituals #EthnicWear #FestiveFun #FamilyTime #CelebrateTeej #TeejCelebration #NextraTheAddress #NextraDevelopers #NextraTeejCarnival
In Alpine nights of ages old,
A shadow stirred in winter’s cold—
Not kindly saint with gifts to give,
But Krampus, judging how we live.
A horned and hairy winter sprite,
Half-goat, half-demon, born of night;
With birch-rod switch and rattling chain,
He came to warn, not entertain.
Companion to St Nicholas’ round,
He trod the snowy village ground—
While Nicholas blessed the good and true,
Krampus dealt with the naughty few.
Yet far from peaks of snow and pine,
Where Central Europe drew the line,
His spirit wanders shores anew,
Where Whitby’s cliffs cut through the blue.
For not all tales here speak of fang,
Or Gothic fame the tourists hang—
Beyond the shadow of Dracula’s throne,
The Whitby Krampus stands alone.
Lanterns flare and drums resound,
Fur-clad figures cross the ground;
Through Abbey arches, wind, and sleet,
Ancient myth and modern meet.
So let the photos hold the night—
Of folklore’s fire, wild delight—
How Whitby welcomed winter’s guest,
And Krampus walked among the rest.
The Chocolate Door at Nextra Teej Carnival Brings your friends and family for a fantastic experience!
#TheChocolateDoor #TeejCarnival #TraditionalFestivities #CulturalHeritage #LiveMusic #DancePerformances #HennaDesigns #TraditionalFood #ShoppingBazaar #TeejRituals #EthnicWear #FestiveFun #FamilyTime #CelebrateTeej #TeejCelebration #NextraTheAddress #NextraDevelopers #NextraTeejCarnival
In Alpine nights of ages old,
A shadow stirred in winter’s cold—
Not kindly saint with gifts to give,
But Krampus, judging how we live.
A horned and hairy winter sprite,
Half-goat, half-demon, born of night;
With birch-rod switch and rattling chain,
He came to warn, not entertain.
Companion to St Nicholas’ round,
He trod the snowy village ground—
While Nicholas blessed the good and true,
Krampus dealt with the naughty few.
Yet far from peaks of snow and pine,
Where Central Europe drew the line,
His spirit wanders shores anew,
Where Whitby’s cliffs cut through the blue.
For not all tales here speak of fang,
Or Gothic fame the tourists hang—
Beyond the shadow of Dracula’s throne,
The Whitby Krampus stands alone.
Lanterns flare and drums resound,
Fur-clad figures cross the ground;
Through Abbey arches, wind, and sleet,
Ancient myth and modern meet.
So let the photos hold the night—
Of folklore’s fire, wild delight—
How Whitby welcomed winter’s guest,
And Krampus walked among the rest.
Unwrapping the cuteness! 🎁 Nori, my playful little Maine Coon kitten, couldn’t resist diving into the festive box full of wrapping paper and cat toys. Watch her curiosity shine as she explores her new favorite play space. Her fluffy fur and adorable antics make every moment a joy to capture. #MaineCoonKitten #CatPhotography #FestiveFun #KittenAdventures #CutenessOverload #MaineCoonLove #KittenPlaytime”
In Alpine nights of ages old,
A shadow stirred in winter’s cold—
Not kindly saint with gifts to give,
But Krampus, judging how we live.
A horned and hairy winter sprite,
Half-goat, half-demon, born of night;
With birch-rod switch and rattling chain,
He came to warn, not entertain.
Companion to St Nicholas’ round,
He trod the snowy village ground—
While Nicholas blessed the good and true,
Krampus dealt with the naughty few.
Yet far from peaks of snow and pine,
Where Central Europe drew the line,
His spirit wanders shores anew,
Where Whitby’s cliffs cut through the blue.
For not all tales here speak of fang,
Or Gothic fame the tourists hang—
Beyond the shadow of Dracula’s throne,
The Whitby Krampus stands alone.
Lanterns flare and drums resound,
Fur-clad figures cross the ground;
Through Abbey arches, wind, and sleet,
Ancient myth and modern meet.
So let the photos hold the night—
Of folklore’s fire, wild delight—
How Whitby welcomed winter’s guest,
And Krampus walked among the rest.
In Alpine nights of ages old,
A shadow stirred in winter’s cold—
Not kindly saint with gifts to give,
But Krampus, judging how we live.
A horned and hairy winter sprite,
Half-goat, half-demon, born of night;
With birch-rod switch and rattling chain,
He came to warn, not entertain.
Companion to St Nicholas’ round,
He trod the snowy village ground—
While Nicholas blessed the good and true,
Krampus dealt with the naughty few.
Yet far from peaks of snow and pine,
Where Central Europe drew the line,
His spirit wanders shores anew,
Where Whitby’s cliffs cut through the blue.
For not all tales here speak of fang,
Or Gothic fame the tourists hang—
Beyond the shadow of Dracula’s throne,
The Whitby Krampus stands alone.
Lanterns flare and drums resound,
Fur-clad figures cross the ground;
Through Abbey arches, wind, and sleet,
Ancient myth and modern meet.
So let the photos hold the night—
Of folklore’s fire, wild delight—
How Whitby welcomed winter’s guest,
And Krampus walked among the rest.
In Alpine nights of ages old,
A shadow stirred in winter’s cold—
Not kindly saint with gifts to give,
But Krampus, judging how we live.
A horned and hairy winter sprite,
Half-goat, half-demon, born of night;
With birch-rod switch and rattling chain,
He came to warn, not entertain.
Companion to St Nicholas’ round,
He trod the snowy village ground—
While Nicholas blessed the good and true,
Krampus dealt with the naughty few.
Yet far from peaks of snow and pine,
Where Central Europe drew the line,
His spirit wanders shores anew,
Where Whitby’s cliffs cut through the blue.
For not all tales here speak of fang,
Or Gothic fame the tourists hang—
Beyond the shadow of Dracula’s throne,
The Whitby Krampus stands alone.
Lanterns flare and drums resound,
Fur-clad figures cross the ground;
Through Abbey arches, wind, and sleet,
Ancient myth and modern meet.
So let the photos hold the night—
Of folklore’s fire, wild delight—
How Whitby welcomed winter’s guest,
And Krampus walked among the rest.
In Alpine nights of ages old,
A shadow stirred in winter’s cold—
Not kindly saint with gifts to give,
But Krampus, judging how we live.
A horned and hairy winter sprite,
Half-goat, half-demon, born of night;
With birch-rod switch and rattling chain,
He came to warn, not entertain.
Companion to St Nicholas’ round,
He trod the snowy village ground—
While Nicholas blessed the good and true,
Krampus dealt with the naughty few.
Yet far from peaks of snow and pine,
Where Central Europe drew the line,
His spirit wanders shores anew,
Where Whitby’s cliffs cut through the blue.
For not all tales here speak of fang,
Or Gothic fame the tourists hang—
Beyond the shadow of Dracula’s throne,
The Whitby Krampus stands alone.
Lanterns flare and drums resound,
Fur-clad figures cross the ground;
Through Abbey arches, wind, and sleet,
Ancient myth and modern meet.
So let the photos hold the night—
Of folklore’s fire, wild delight—
How Whitby welcomed winter’s guest,
And Krampus walked among the rest.
In Alpine nights of ages old,
A shadow stirred in winter’s cold—
Not kindly saint with gifts to give,
But Krampus, judging how we live.
A horned and hairy winter sprite,
Half-goat, half-demon, born of night;
With birch-rod switch and rattling chain,
He came to warn, not entertain.
Companion to St Nicholas’ round,
He trod the snowy village ground—
While Nicholas blessed the good and true,
Krampus dealt with the naughty few.
Yet far from peaks of snow and pine,
Where Central Europe drew the line,
His spirit wanders shores anew,
Where Whitby’s cliffs cut through the blue.
For not all tales here speak of fang,
Or Gothic fame the tourists hang—
Beyond the shadow of Dracula’s throne,
The Whitby Krampus stands alone.
Lanterns flare and drums resound,
Fur-clad figures cross the ground;
Through Abbey arches, wind, and sleet,
Ancient myth and modern meet.
So let the photos hold the night—
Of folklore’s fire, wild delight—
How Whitby welcomed winter’s guest,
And Krampus walked among the rest.
In Alpine nights of ages old,
A shadow stirred in winter’s cold—
Not kindly saint with gifts to give,
But Krampus, judging how we live.
A horned and hairy winter sprite,
Half-goat, half-demon, born of night;
With birch-rod switch and rattling chain,
He came to warn, not entertain.
Companion to St Nicholas’ round,
He trod the snowy village ground—
While Nicholas blessed the good and true,
Krampus dealt with the naughty few.
Yet far from peaks of snow and pine,
Where Central Europe drew the line,
His spirit wanders shores anew,
Where Whitby’s cliffs cut through the blue.
For not all tales here speak of fang,
Or Gothic fame the tourists hang—
Beyond the shadow of Dracula’s throne,
The Whitby Krampus stands alone.
Lanterns flare and drums resound,
Fur-clad figures cross the ground;
Through Abbey arches, wind, and sleet,
Ancient myth and modern meet.
So let the photos hold the night—
Of folklore’s fire, wild delight—
How Whitby welcomed winter’s guest,
And Krampus walked among the rest.
Unwrapping the cuteness! 🎁 Nori, my playful little Maine Coon kitten, couldn’t resist diving into the festive box full of wrapping paper and cat toys. Watch her curiosity shine as she explores her new favorite play space. Her fluffy fur and adorable antics make every moment a joy to capture. #MaineCoonKitten #CatPhotography #FestiveFun #KittenAdventures #CutenessOverload #MaineCoonLove #KittenPlaytime”