Language of Flowers Award 1
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You don't know what you did, did to me
Your body language, speaks to me
I can make it hurricane on it
Hunnid bands, make it rain on it
Tie it up, put a chain on it
Make you tattoo my name on it, oh
Make you cry like a baby, yeah
Biarritz lies on the Bay of Biscay, on the Atlantic coast, in southwestern France. Unlike any other part of France. The region has its own language, cultural landscape, architecture, and culinary traditions. The land here is breathtakingly distinctive— with the turquoise blue waters, wild coastline, and rugged foothills of the Pyrenees
The Great Blasket Island is one of the remotest parts of the Irish Language Speaking area of Corca Dhuibhne. Although deserted since 1953 it is famous for the abundance of literature produced by the Irish speaking inhabitants who will live on forever through the documentation by them of the extraordinary details of their ordinary lives
Glam Affair Mina Jamaica Rare Applier for Catwa Mesh Head New** @Epiphany
Catwa Mesh Head Bibi @Catwa mainstore
Catwa Mesh Eyes and Tears New** @Catwa mainstore
=Zenith= Harness Pantie and Spiked Sock Garters Boots New** @Kustom9
=Zenith= Anniversary Ring New** @Kustom9
=Zenith= Star Gladiator Bra @Zenith mainstore
[Kunst] Chronos Watch New** @Kustom9
Disorderly Blood Stash New** @Epiphany
[anc] Swalow @anc mainstore
Body Language SS Pose Fruit Bonus for AO Juicy New** @Romp
Scarlet Creative LoveCraft Gothic Cottage New** @Collabor88
Ty:) <3333
"Es regnet, Gott segnet, die Erde wird nass."
Es regnet, Gott segnet... ist ein bekanntes deutschsprachiges Kinderlied aus dem 19. Jahrhundert.
Endlich Regen!!!
HMM liebe Flickr Freunde!
"It´s raining, God blesses us, the earth is getting wet"
It's raining, God blesses us... a well-known 19th-century German-language children's song.
Rain at last!!!
HMM dear flickr friends!
Batman is using his body language to tell me he is hungry.
A stack of bowls is on the other side of that cabinet door--with leftover dry kibble in them. He checks this spot frequently, to see if one of us forgets to close the cabinet.
why I like making photographs :-)
Catherine Sue Opie
HPPT!! Hands Off Clean Air!! Science Matters! Resist the Delusional Ignorant Orange Cockroach and his Cabinet of Lunatics and Buffoons!
hybrid tea rose, 'Double Delight', little theater rose garden, raleigh, north carolina
Formsprache bezeichnet das gezielte Zusammenspiel von Linien, Flächen, Farben und Volumen in Design, Kunst oder Architektur. Sie fungiert als visuelles Vokabular, das unterbewusst Emotionen, Werte sowie historische Epochen kommuniziert.
Organisch (Fließend & Rund): Steht für Natur, Dynamik, Sanftheit und Lebendigkeit.
Design language refers to the deliberate interplay of lines, surfaces, colours and volumes in design, art or architecture. It acts as a visual vocabulary that subconsciously conveys emotions, values and historical eras.
Organic (flowing & rounded): Symbolises nature, dynamism, softness and vitality.
source: wikipedia
"Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow [seed] nor reap [the harvest] nor gather [the crops] into barns, and yet your heavenly Father keeps feeding them. Are you not worth much more than they?" - Matthew 6:26
Find out God's loving Grace to you in many different languages: www.gty.org/live
It's available on 24-hour Live Stream also: www.gty.org/broadcasts/gracestream
The Green Heron on the left flew over to this log and convinced the other heron, that was there first, that it should leave, which it did.
Cuyahoga Valley National Park, Ohio
Title courtesy of the pensive expression and body language of this female Superb Fairy Wren seen whilst at Walka Water Works (Maitland, NSW; Australia) a couple of days ago.
Hope you like this!!
*** Best viewed Large on Black!!! ***
Thanks for any comments, views or favorites - much appreciated!!
Have another awesome day and weekend everyone!!
In the tradition of Garry Winogrand who was more interested in capturing a good moment over creating a meticulous photo.
Shot in a quick flow informal manner to bring energy to the scene.
Six Aboriginal language groups are the traditional owners of the Greater Blue Mountains World Heritage Area:
Darug.
Gundungurra.
Wanaruah.
Wiradjuri.
Darkinjung.
Tharawal.
I acknowledge the Traditional Custodians of the land on which I work and live, and recognise their continuing connection to land, water and community. I pay respect to Elders past, present and emerging.Top of a misty Wentworth Falls.......
Got home from work grabbed Jen and the camera and headed off to Wentworth falls to check out the flow!!! The flow was a bit disappointing to be honest but I didn't mind this shot in the mist and all. This shot was taken in the actual water bare feet with the Manfrotto poised precariously in the drink!!! ... have a good weekend!!!
The ocean has never been silent. It simply speaks a language that cannot be heard, only remembered. She wanders through its emerald halls without disturbing a single current, listening to conversations carried by bubbles, seaweed, and forgotten tides. Every creature that passes seems to recognize her, as though she belonged not to the sea itself, but to the memory the sea keeps of the world.
Some truths were never meant to rise to the surface. They remain suspended beneath the waves, waiting for those who understand that wisdom is not always found in answers... sometimes it lives quietly in everything that chooses not to speak.
The style card and credits here.
PETRICHOR / :[P]:- Advent 2025 - Variani @ in main store now
BESPOKE / BeSpoke - Blossom - HEAD v1.4 @ Access event
ZIBSKA / Zibska ~ Erato set @ in main store
[QE] Designs / [QE] Leviathan Female Claws - Mystic Shrooms 001
GLOOM / Gloom - Shojo Skin - Velour Fantasy : Ghost for Blossom head
FAETAL / FaeTal - Bay - LeLutka Human Female @ weekend offers
CURELESS / CURELESS[+] Goddess Touch Halo @ weekend offers
BACKDROP **SN~ Below the Sunken Ship
I promise it's the little things that you do, that make me wanna give it all to you
Hope your Valentine's Day is filled with lots of self-love!
This might be a slightly silly idea, but I had a lot of fun sharing a small glimpse of what was going on in my head while creating and editing this image and this character. Writing it down felt right in the moment.
For me, it’s never just about the looks.
Editing is the part where my brain goes off on its own little adventure and the character starts to take shape beyond pixels and poses.
Please keep in mind that I’m just a roleplayer whose biggest passion is emoting — not a professional storyteller. And yes… this was also translated from my native language into English, so please be gentle with me. 😅
Still, I hope some of you enjoy getting a peek into Arawn’s backstory. And if not — hey, at least I had fun doing it.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Arawn was born where the water never forgets.
In the drowned groves beneath the world—where roots strangled the light and rivers murmured names no living throat should shape—he learned early that mercy decays faster than bone. The spirits there did not raise him. They claimed him. Fed him lies sweet as honey. Wrapped living vines around his wrists and called it protection.
He was beautiful even then.
That was his first curse.
They crowned him with antlers grown from living wood, not as a blessing but as a tether—proof that he belonged to the wild dark, to a bargain he had never agreed to. Power gathered in him like still water: patient, cold, inevitable. He learned to take what he needed. He learned that love, when offered, always carried a hook.
And in the water’s memory—long before Rowan was born—
their name already waited.
The spirits whispered it not as prophecy, but as warning. A flaw in the pattern. A future threaded into root and river alike that would not bow. Something the forest could not own.
They knew Arawn could be claimed.
He was dangerous, yes—but predictable. He could be bound with antlers. Tethered with ritual. Fed devotion until he mistook it for choice.
Rowan was not.
The spirits felt Rowan first as an absence—a hollow where roots refused to grow straight and rivers forgot which way they were meant to flow. Where futures forked and refused to settle. Rowan was not born of the forest, nor sworn to it.
They were not meant to kneel.
The spirits tried to erase them. Names misplaced. Paths misaligned. Chances quietly drowned before they could surface. But Rowan kept surviving—kept walking forward—kept becoming unavoidable.
By the time the upper world learned Arawn’s name, he was already a villain in their mouths.
The Forest King.
The Whisper in the Mire.
The one who traded salvation for obedience.
He conquered not with armies, but with want. Cities fell because people knelt willingly. He never corrected them.
But sometimes—rarely—Arawn would hear it again.
A name carried on running water. A presence just beyond the treeline. Not a command. Not a prayer.
A pull.
(You can find the rest on my FB Page)