Emotion (Spirit)
View allAll Photos Tagged SORROWFUL
Widow skimmer is one the most widespread and easily recognized dragonflies in the region besides the blue dasher,
The species name means sorrowful or mournful,
Taken in front of huge Hydrangea bush.
Long-Tailed Tit [Aegithalos Caudatus] on a hazel branch.
This little guy and two of his friends appeared at The Pixies not long after I had replenished all of the feeders. They love my fat- and protein-rich peanut butter/seed mix!
Today, it has been raining, all day, and this wee soul looked a little worse for wear. Pathetic fallacy to assume that he was sad in all the rain, but he just seemed bedraggled and sorrowful…and very wet! Poor wee guy. Maybe he was just being reflective and existential :-) and not just crying in the rain.
I’m sure he’ll be all huddled up, warm and cosy, with his buddies, after they all have their fill of peanut butter.
At The Pixies (about a mile down my track)
South Carrick Hills
SW Scotland
🎼 “Lágrima” - Miloš Karadaglić (Francisco Târrega)
Visit this location at Venice ARIA @ PRADA SIM~Venezia City Showcase~ in Second Life
“Oh yes, it was my Venice! Beautiful,
With melancholy, ghostly beauty—old,
And sorrowful, and weary—yet so fair,
So like a queen still, with her royal robes,
Full of harmonious colour, rent and worn!”
― Ada Cambridge, The Manor House and Other Poems
♫ Dark Necessities ♫ - Red Hot Chili Peppers
On Joy and Sorrow
by Kahlil Gibran
Then a woman said, Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.
And he answered:
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.
_________________
“We plant seeds that will flower as results in our lives, so best to remove the weeds of anger, avarice, envy and doubt...” —Dorothy Day
Nothing visible, nothing
I have been crying throughout
Not because I feel sorrowful
But because of the delight of feeling your warmth
Ah… Please don't go away, please don't go away
Please don't ever ever let us separate
Ah… Please don't go away, please don't go away
Let's remain this way
Someday my heart, someday
Will be somewhere afar
That everything will turn into memory
Though it's better not to know
Though it's better not to know
Ah… Please don't go away, please don't go away
Whenever it is, don't let us separate
Ah… Please don't go away, please don't go away
Let's remain this way
Ah… Please don't go away, please don't go away
Please don't ever ever let us separate
Ah… Please don't go away, please don't go away
Let's remain this way
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA The famous Dripping Springs is the scene of the tragic death of the lovelorn Indian girl whose broken heart is said to have given the lake its sorrowful name – Creve Coeur. Creve Coeur is French for “broken heart”. Creve Couer Lake Park.
This is my 2nd Hate Submission to #AdamsPhotoChallenge Theme: Love/Hate
Click www.facebook.com/adam.lavell.359/posts/968648410199142 for information to participate in this month's challenge!
In the stark contrast of black and white, her portrait revealed a profound sadness that words could scarcely describe. With her eyes closed and her head bowed, she seemed to carry the weight of the world on her delicate shoulders. Her lips, tightly sealed, held back a torrent of unspoken sorrows, while her serene yet sorrowful expression told a story of silent suffering. Shadows danced across her features, highlighting the lines etched by heartache and resilience. In this monochrome moment, the absence of color stripped away all pretense, leaving only the raw essence of her inner turmoil. Her downcast gaze and closed eyes were a silent testament to the pain within, a quiet cry for solace in the midst of her overwhelming grief.
Remember Me:
To the living, I am gone.
To the sorrowful, I will never return.
To the angry, I was cheated,
But to the happy, I am at peace,
And to the faithful, I have never left.
I cannot be seen, but I can be heard.
So as you stand upon a shore, gazing at a beautiful sea - remember me.
As you look in awe at a mighty forest and its grand majesty - remember me.
As you look upon a flower and admire its simplicity - remember me.
Remember me in your heart, your thoughts, your memories of the times we loved,
the times we cried, the times we fought, the times we laughed.
For if you always think of me, I will never be gone.
Margaret Mead
This morning as I walked the Autumn woods I was reminded yes to grieve but to enjoy this life for more than ever it is so precious. ~Have a great week dear friends! ~Sam
..auf dem Weg zur Wallfahrtskapelle "Zur schmerzhaften Muttergottes" in Leithen bei Kößlarn (Niederbayern)
...on the Way to the hermitage "To the Sorrowful Mother of God" in Leithen near Kößlarn (Lower Bavaria)
Fiddler's Green - The Tragically Hip
www.youtube.com/watch?v=35mJvcY104M
Photo taken at Ephemeral Woods, Second Life
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Nevernever%20Land/116/121/48
Fiddler's Green is an after-life where there is perpetual mirth, a fiddle that never stops playing, and dancers who never tire.
In 19th-century English maritime folklore, it was a kind of after-life for sailors who had served at least fifty years at sea
Dedicated to the memory of Gord Downie
-----------------------------------
September seventeen
For a girl I know, it's Mother's Day
Her son has gone alee
And that's where he will stay
Wind on a weathervane
Tearing blue eyes sailor-mean
As Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrain
For a boy in Fiddler's Green
His tiny knotted heart
Well, I guess it never worked too good
The timber tore apart
And the water gorged the wood
You can hear her whispered prayer
For men at masts that always lean
The same wind that moves her hair
Moves her boy through Fiddler's Green
Ah, nothing's changed anyway
Ah, nothing's changed anyway
Oh, anytime today
He doesn't know a soul
There's nowhere that he's really been
But he won't travel long alone
No, not in Fiddler's Green
Balloons all filled with rain
As children's eyes turn sleepy-mean
And Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrain
For a boy in Fiddler's Green
There was once a poor old fisherman, and one year he was not getting much fish. On a day of days, while he was fishing, there rose a sea-maiden at the side of his boat, and she asked him, "Are you getting much fish?" The old man answered and said, "Not I." "What reward would you give me for sending plenty of fish to you? "Ach!" said the old man, "I have not much to spare." "Will you give me the first son you have?" said she. "I would give ye that, were I to have a son," said he. "Then go home, and remember me when your son is twenty years of age, and you yourself will get plenty of fish after this." Everything happened as the sea-maiden said, and he himself got plenty of fish; but when the end of the twenty years was nearing, the old man was growing more and more sorrowful and heavy hearted, while he counted each day as it came.......
To read the rest of this tale click on the link... :-}}}
genius.com/John-francis-campbell-the-sea-maiden-annotated
Please view full screen on black...Just press L on your keyboard... Thanks for looking... :-}
This is an emotional image for me any time I see it but right now with all that is going on I find myself more emotional than ever. This beautiful Canada goose frantically flew over me several times going back and forth. It appears to have lost it's mate. It was squawking in a frantic manner until it flew out of my sight then I would hear it coming back over me doing the same thing time and time again. Geese possess a veritably human capacity for grief. Their feelings and emotions are far less different from us than you assume. Quite literally, humans, a dog, and a goose hang their heads, lose their appetites, and become indifferent to all stimuli emanating from the environment. For grief-striken human beings, as well as for geese, one effect is that they become outstandingly vulnerable to accidents; they tend to fly into high-tension cables or fall prey to predators because of their reduced alertness.
There have been reports of pair bonds that are so strong that if one goose is shot down by a hunter, the partner will circle back. Drawn by its need to stay with its lifelong companion, the single goose will often ignore the sound of shooting and return to die with its mate.
In The Pig Who Sang To The Moon, Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson writes about a goose who had a broken wing. During the fall migration, as other geese flew south, her gander accompanied her by air and by foot. She was going to walk south since she was unable to fly. He would not leave her, so after flying for a few hundred yards, he would stop and wait for her to catch up. He would call to her with his wildest, most piercing cry, urging her to spread her wings and fly with him to their distant home. He accompanied her until she was killed by carrion eagles and he had to continue his journey alone.
Widowed geese have been observed circling around and around, crying in heartrending sorrowful tones when their partners die or are shot by hunters. The remaining goose may mourn for a period of time and then mate again. Or they may mourn for the rest of their lives and never seek another mate. Just as with people, it varies with individual geese.....Choo Choo Rosenbloom
So I stood in the field with this knowledge and wept as she or he kept flying over me and frantically calling for their mate. It's an incredibly sad thing to witness.
Everyone please be safe. Thinking of you all.
Small farmhouse (Bavarian "Sacherl") and pilgrimage chapel to the Sorrowful Mother of God in Leithen, near Kößlarn, Bad Griesbach, Passau district, Lower Bavaria.
Let's go. The hike down from the Brocken into the valley.
It was quickly clear that I will not see and understand everything here just by hiking down.
thom yorke — suspirium ♫
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EOSR | RF50mm f/1.2L USM
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The species name of the Widow Skimmer (Libellula luctuosa) “means sorrowful or mournful, perhaps because the wings of both male and female seem to be draped in mourning crepe.”
I have always had a fascination with boats that have surpassed their ‘use by’ date. Just imagine the sights they have witnessed, the tales they could tell of riding the waves, assuming they don’t succumb to them, before reaching their final resting place. Then it’s a twice daily salt bath to soothe their aching joints before eventually perishing completely……
So, to the music. I’ve never linked this piece before and if you’re really not a fan of modern classical then look away now.
However, if you have 26 minutes and 46 seconds to spare, go find a quiet place, put some headphones on and immerse yourself.....
It’s a slow burner but builds and builds, gaining momentum and power. I see this boat battling against a progressively angry sea…..
It’s mournful and melancholic but truly beautiful, one of my favourite pieces and the voice of Dawn Upshaw is simply sublime.
Alternatively, on a lighter note, if your weekend would not be complete without a Pelican trying to eat a Capybara, then here you go...
Matthew 26:17-30 The Lord’s Supper
Jesus Celebrates Passover with His Disciples
17 Now on the first day of the Feast of the Unleavened Bread the disciples came to Jesus, saying to Him, “Where do You want us to prepare for You to eat the Passover?”
18 And He said, “Go into the city to a certain man, and say to him, ‘The Teacher says, “My time is at hand; I will keep the Passover at your house with My disciples.” ’ ”
19 So the disciples did as Jesus had directed them; and they prepared the Passover.
20 When evening had come, He sat down with the twelve. 21 Now as they were eating, He said, “Assuredly, I say to you, one of you will betray Me.”
22 And they were exceedingly sorrowful, and each of them began to say to Him, “Lord, is it I?”
23 He answered and said, “He who dipped his hand with Me in the dish will betray Me. 24 The Son of Man indeed goes just as it is written of Him, but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would have been good for that man if he had not been born.”
25 Then Judas, who was betraying Him, answered and said, “Rabbi, is it I?”
He said to him, “You have said it.”
Jesus Institutes the Lord’s Supper
26 And as they were eating, Jesus took bread, [c]blessed and broke it, and gave it to the disciples and said, “Take, eat; this is My body.”
27 Then He took the cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you. 28 For this is My blood of the [d]new covenant, which is shed for many for the [e]remission of sins. 29 But I say to you, I will not drink of this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it new with you in My Father’s kingdom.”
30 And when they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.
Pained piano keys compose
a chorus-less composition.
Melancholic moods crave
to sway back and forth
like bluebells and lilies dancing,
when kissed by the morning breeze
Forlorn flute flirts with sympathetic tunes,
echoing vivid vibrations,
piercing layers of a forgotten heart.
Somber undertones seduce the soul
as it struggles to swim,
silently immersing in sorrowful symphonies.
Yet the orchestra is mute - slumbering
in the ruins of unfinished musings.
Ignorant to the heartbroken harp
that lusts to strum romantic melodies,
but stands in sincere elegance,
decaying as dust suppresses its emotions.
Lyrics float by, searching for a home,
but remain unheard in the absence of the viola.
Its loss has become an enemy
to violin strings, crippled from cries
yearning for their cello comrades.
Alone their music does not co-exist
and falls upon deaf ears.
Music has no providence,
yet the mind is lost in its province.
Searching for soothing serenades
that softly sail ships towards
shores strumming sweet strings.
Sometimes harmonies struggle to enlighten in solitude,
but when composed together, their lyrics live forever.
The Silent One
Simple Musings
21 November 2017
The sorrowful gust of wind that blew right between you and me
Where did it find the loneliness it carried on the breeze?
Looking up at the sky after shedding a stream of tears
I could see for miles of blue, it's never been so clear
Speeches that my father gave me would always make me despair
Somehow, I feel a warmth and comfort today
Your ever kind heart, the way you smile, and even how you find your dreams
I knew nothing, so honestly, I've always copied you
------------------------
Yay finally I managed to do a pic of one of my best and closest friend. Ayumi-chan I´m so happy and proud to call you my friend. You´re the sun for me (´∀｀)♡
I want something gloomy and cute for her (just like she is) and hope I didn´t messed it up because it´s not the kind of pics I usual do.
Btw. LOOOOVE this song so much. It´s so beatuful that I could cry everytime. (☍﹏⁰)｡
[...]
The loving ones play at gathering water,
at tattooing smoke, at going nowhere;
they play the long, sorrowful game of love.
You don’t have to give in;
no one has to give in, they say.
The thought of conforming with anything mortifies them.
[...]
Jaime Sabines, The Loving Ones
This is for the Smile on Saturday group's theme Dead or Dying Flowers... er... which was one of my suggestions.
No pressure then :)
Thank you for choosing the theme Maria! I think other contributions to the group have been really diverse and interesting - I do hope others have had fun!
I often find images of dead flowers have an intriguing beauty and, rather than feeling that they are sorrowful, I tend to be as pleased as the plants surely are. From their perspective the the hardest part of their work is done; new life in the seeds has started and in that they must have great joy.
So I think it is not a time of sad endings and melancholy but happy new beginnings as the next generation is spawned into life.
This image was taken in January in my daughter's garden. These poppy head cases seemed delicate, empty homes. A bit like Urbex in the flower world...
The seed head is the last vestiges of the flower, and I did rather trip myself up wondering about the interpretation of my own theme :( Does this count as a dead flower? Hopefully it does!
Thank you for taking the time to look. I hope you enjoy the image. Happy Smile on Saturday!
[Handheld in daylight.
Developed in Capture One trying to tame the very bright and saturated background.
Sharpened with USM in Affinity along with a Depth of Field blur and a dark vignette, and a bit of playing about with the crop I'm not sure I like the big bokeh bottom right, but I've run out of time...]
...."Can you hear them, child of the mound?” he said, “The spirits of the forest are lamenting.” The knower of trees bowed his head in sorrowful surrender as he continued. “Great changes have begun. If we forget the language of the ancient ones, the earth will spin out of balance and the sky will be rent in two," he paused and opened his hand, "but you at least, will not forget."
Niamh looked up as a mighty gust hit the tops of the tallest of the trees. They bent and swayed in roaring whispers of affirmation. When she looked back to the grove the old magus was gone and her eighth dream lay on the ground where he had dropped it..." (Tales of the Tuatha found on my blog)
... and umbrellas fly ...
... the heart is blooming ...
... and umbrellas are falling ...
... and the heart scattered ...
-----------------------------rant 73.Octo.11,2019
=======================
ON JOY and SORROW
by: Kahlil Gibran - 1883-1931
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Some of you say, "Joy is greater thar sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits, alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.
Dedicated to my friend Johny Day who recently lost his Holly, the most beautiful standard poodle and an angel in his life. Johny know that you and Holly have been a source of inspiration to me and many others. You are in my thoughts and prayers.
young people, Italian Catholic youth. His patronage is also invoked by the Church for students, college students, seminarians, novices, youth, clerics, gun owners and the region of Abruzzi, Italy. Thousands of divine favors are attributed to his intercession with Christ Crucified and the Sorrowful Mother Mary.
Misty fog rolls across the still waters of the inlet. A small spindley tree reaches for the heavens, beckoning to be lifted from the mire it is surrounded by.. There it remains, limbs outstretched, cold and alone.
That one is the result of my first attempts at using the new EF50mm 1:1.4 lens.
While I am saddened that the time to finally try it came at such a sorrowful moment of losing a relative, I find comfort in the fact that she would have loved the results. She was a warm and amiable person, my cousin and a friend.
I dedicate these first photographs to her.
... go down the drain, Mr.Putin!
The world really has bigger problems at the moment
than dealing with your historicizing lust for power.
Give PEACE a Chance! (1969)
Downpipe at a facade in Saint Petersburg, Russia
for a sorrowful 'Travel Tuesday'
on #WorldBearDay
A European Brown Bear family at the swamp, Martinselkonen Wilderness Lodge, Finland, July 2016
World Bear Day is a celebration dedicated to the rescue and protection of the bears around the world, regardless of the species and natural habitat. On March 23 everyone interested in wildlife care, can participate in celebrating this event.
World Bear Day is a wonderful reason to spend the time with pleasure and joy. Beside that, it also can help to improve the lives of lots of bears. It is a positive way to spread the information about the plight of the bears around the world, as well as to change the sorrowful situations with exploiting of the bears.