View allAll Photos Tagged Wept
Pic By Pammy
Taken At Vuk Sim
Every night before I slept I prayed as I wept
l for the angels to grant me just one wish I guess this was too much to ask First the weeks came then months passed
held on to memories of your words
which went like this
When I miss you
And you're so far away
I just close my eyes
And I can see your face
When I miss you
And you're so far away
I just close my eyes
And I can see your face
I guess that now you'll never know
How much I could have loved you so
In my heart your name remains
A prayer song
In time when things were made to last
History repeats the past
I'll be waiting you'll return
'Til then I'm strong
When I miss you
And you're so far away
I just close my eyes
And I can see your face
When I miss you
The darkness in your eyes
Talks of so much love
You used to feel for me inside
No one can ever love
You babe the way I've done
'Cause I see right through your eyes
Close my eyes
you are mine
When I miss you
When I miss you
And you're so far away
I just close my eyes
And I can see your face
When I miss you
The darkness in your eyes
Talks of so much love
You used to feel for me inside
(Equus quagga burchellii) B28I1782 Mara River - Kenya
We witnessed this poignant scene: this mother Zebra had lost her newborn during the crossing of the Mara River. She remained at the top of the cliff, uttering heartrending cries for about ten minutes. Her little one was stuck on the bank because his newborn muscles would not allow him to climb this slippery and steep bank. On the other hand, he was constantly pushed around by other members of the herd who had their own worries. After the maddened horde passed, he somehow managed to pull himself up, exhausted. His mother welcomed him, licked, cajoled. We wept with emotion.
Nous avons assisté à cette scène poignante : cette maman Zèbre avait perdu son nouveau-né pendant la traversée de la rivière Mara. Elle est resté en haut de la falaise à pousser des cris déchirants pendant une dizaine de minutes. Son petit était bloqué sur la berge car ses muscles de nouveau-né ne lui permettaient pas d'escalader cette berge glissante et abrupte. D'autre part, il était constamment bousculé par les autres membres du troupeau qui avaient leurs propres soucis. Après le passage de la horde affolée, il a réussi tant bien que mal à se hisser, à bout de force. Sa mère l'a accueilli, léché, cajolé. Nous en avons pleuré d'émotion.
The aster is a wildflower that comes in red, orange, white, and purple. The plant also has a rich history in ancient Greece. According to Greek mythology, the goddess Astraea wept because there weren't enough stars in the sky. Her tears fell to the earth and turned into the star-shaped flowers we now call asters. In Greek, aster literally means star.
lucysflorist.com/blogs/news/the-september-birth-flower-as....
"You may forget the one with whom you have laughed, but never the one with whom you have wept." -Kahlil Gibran
Ой Богдане! / Нерозумний сину! / Подивись тепер на матір, / На свою Вкраїну, / Що, колишучи, співала / Про свою недолю, / Що, співаючи, ридала, / Виглядала волю. / Ой Богдане, /Богданочку, / Якби була знала, / У колисці б задушила, / Під серцем приспала.
«Розрита могила» Т.Г. Шевченко (1845?)
try to remember the beautiful summer weeks, I wish you a happy week also...
Try to remember the kind of September
When life was slow and oh
so mellow.
Try to remember the kind of September
When grass was green and the grain was yellow.
Try to remember the kind of September
When you were young and the callow fellow.
Try to remember and if you remember
then follow
follow.
when life was so tender
When no-one wept except the willow.
Try to remember when life was so tender
When dreams were kept beside your pillow.
Try to remember when life was so tender
When love was an ember about to billow.
Try to remember and if you remember
then follow....................
I Am
John Clare
I am — yet what I am none cares or knows;
My friends forsake me like a memory lost:
I am the self-consumer of my woes —
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throes
And yet I am, and live — like vapours tossed
Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life or joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life’s esteems;
Even the dearest that I loved the best
Are strange — nay, rather, stranger than the rest.
I long for scenes where man hath never trod
A place where woman never smiled or wept
There to abide with my Creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie
The grass below — above the vaulted sky.
“Thy will be done, my Lord. Because you know the weakness in the heart of your
children, and you assign each of them only the burden they can bear. May you
understand my love–because it is the only thing I have that is really mine, the only thing that I will be able to take with me into the next life. Please allow it to be courageous and pure; please make it capable of surviving the snares of the world.”
― Paulo Coelho, By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept
The last couple of days have been bright here with blue skies, but as this weather was drawing nigh I was in the still drizzly park... Here's Red Robin wept on by the yet relentless Clouds. But a glimmer of Sun already glinted with promise...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I wandered deep where silence grows,
Through tangled thoughts and moonless lows,
His voice a whisper lost in mist,
A name the night refused to list.
I called through caverns carved by pain,
Where echoes wept like falling rain,
Each step a hope, each breath a plea—
To find the light he used to be.
But in his dusk, I saw a spark,
A flicker faint, defying dark.
And though he could not see me near,
I stayed, a lantern lit by fear.
For love will search where others flee,
And wait beside what cannot see.
*composed using AI with my thoughts
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bento Mesh Head: LeLutka Avalon EVO-X
Bento Mesh Body: Maitreya LaraX
Face: Eira (Gray Alien) by Delicate Sins now @ Frostbitten: A Tale from the Graveyard @ maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Nymphai/88/120/3301
Body: Picasso Babe (Dracula)
Star Sonata Eyelashes: [Magic Beauty]
Body Tatt: Glowing Tattoo - Elven Princess by Kensho
Dark Snow Fey Eye Appliers: .lovelysweet. now @ Frostbitten: A Tale from the Graveyard @ maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Nymphai/88/120/3301
Hair: No_Snowqueen by NO.MATCH now @ Frostbitten: A Tale from the Graveyard @ maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Nymphai/88/120/3301
Lunastra Crown by Slavia now @ Frostbitten: A Tale from the Graveyard @ maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Nymphai/88/120/3301
Ensemble: Alva Gown (incl. bodice & skirt for Maitreya LaraX, Maitreya PetiteX, eBody Reborn, eBody Reborn Juicy/ Legacy Fem, Legacy Perky) in multiple colors by Grasshopper now @ Frostbitten: A Tale from the Graveyard @ maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Nymphai/88/120/3301
Laura Nails & Rings: Pure Poison
Yuki Earrings: CODEX
Glamour Glitter: Cole's Corner
Candle Stick #264 & pose: #264 by shiva now @ Frostbitten: A Tale from the Graveyard @ maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Nymphai/88/120/3301
Snowy Owl: [Rezz Room]
SIM: Winter Love Valley @ maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Love%20Valley%20I/126/236/22
Apps used: Eraser, Kaleidoscope, Stackables, Sparkmode, Superimpose, iColorama, Brushstroke, Pixlromatic, Big Photo
Dominus Flevit (Christ wept) - Catholic chapel on the slope of the Mount of Olives with the remains of cemetery Jewish and Christian and of Byzantine monastery.
The church was built on the site where, according to the Gospel Luke Jesus Christ wept and predicted the fall of Jerusalem (Luke 19, 41-44). The first church was built in the Byzantine era. The present building was built between 1953 -1955. Architect gave it shape rotated tears. Inside preserved mosaic floor from the fifth century.
-
Dominus flevit (Pan zapłakał) – kaplica katolicka na zboczu Góry Oliwnej z pozostałościami nekropolii żydowskiej i chrześcijańskiej oraz bizantyjskiego klasztoru.
Kościół został zbudowany w miejscu, gdzie według Ewangelii św. Łukasza Jezus Chrystus zapłakał i przepowiedział upadek Jerozolimy (Łk 19, 41-44). Pierwsza świątynia powstała w czasach bizantyjskich. Obecna budowla powstała w latach 1953-55. Architekt nadał jej kształt obróconej łzy. Wewnątrz zachowała się mozaika podłogowa z V wieku.
Sweet babe, in they face
Holy image can I trace.
Sweet babe, once like thee,
They Maker lay and wept for me,
Wept for me, for thee, for all,
When He was an infant small.
William Blake, Songs of Innocence. Leica M8, Voigtlaender 35mm at F1.4. Yes, I am working under the influence (of Blake).
You have to take risks, he said. We will only understand the miracle of life fully when we allow the unexpected to happen. Every day, God gives us the sun--and also one moment in which we have the ability to change everything that makes us unhappy. Every day, we try to pretend that we haven't perceived that moment, that it doesn't exist--that today is the same as yesterday and will be the same as tomorrow. But if people really pay attention to their everyday lives, they will discover that magic moment. It may arrive in the instant when we are doing something mundane, like putting our front-door key in the lock; it may lie hidden in the quiet that follows the lunch hour or in the thousand and one things that all seem the same to us. But that moment exists--a moment when all the power of the stars becomes a part of us and enables us to perform miracles.
- Paulo Coelho; By the river Piedra I sat down and wept
Ne Me Quitte Pas......
(this is the most emotional video that I have ever seen...)
The CROWS ASH Flindersia australis tree seed pod and seed.
Have intended to photograph these interesting seeds and seedpods for quite some time.
Birds are dropping these colorful seed pods on the rainforest floor in our springtime at present in Brisbane.
The seed pods act as a remarkable bioengineering deterrence as the ground around this tree was carpeted with these seed pods and seeds.
The seeds are 34–50 mm (1.3–2.0 in) long and winged
The new seeds usually germinate in a months time when the heavy rains set in that funnily enough is quite often at Christmas time here.
This is interesting as we have had a prolonged drought in Australia and a La Nina bringing above average summer rains has been forecast by the Australian Bureau of meteorology for the summer months.
These trees may be able to pick the La Nina weather phenomenon too as there has been a really heavy seed set this year.
It seems many Australia trees do have some sort of an organic intelligence for predicting heavy rainfall events that the first Australians are more familiar with.
I recall hearing an interesting discussion on the radio with a famous Australian author who has some first Australian ancestry saying she wept when noticing certain trees flowering during the bad bushfires we had in eastern Australia last year knowing that rain would soon be on it's way.
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Wikipedia information
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flindersia_australis
The article below will give a better idea of what the seed pod looks like
www.australiangeographic.com.au/topics/science-environmen...
Interesting research into tree co operative survival
There are no words, no light beyond the abyss, no God.
“Jesus wept.”
If we desire to be there with those whose incalculable losses outweigh any sentiments of hope, with those who are too ill to have a future, with those facing the darkness of depression, we need to know how that feels before we can endeavor to be present in suffering. We need to learn to lament and weep deeply for the reality all around us.
-Art and Faith A THEOLOGY OF MAKING, Makoto Fujimura Foreword by
N. T. WRIGHT
Do not wake me from this slumber, but be assured that just as I have wept much, I have also wandered many roads with my thoughts. -- Mark Z. Danielewski
This winter visitor returned for a second consecutive winter and used the "Weeping Wall" when it "Wept". The granite wall has tilted to the right, and just has a trickle going these days...
WARNING. The following writing contains content, that is of an adult nature.
I am a fan of the movie Pan’s Labyrinth, and for those of you who don’t know it, here is a link to its trailer.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=jVZRnnVSQ8k
It is a haunting movie, that is both childlike in its fantasy, and extremely adult, in the bleakness of its reality, and a warning should be given, as the content of the movie is at times brutal. It is one of over 700 movies I watched after 9 11, as I gave up watching TV, after that event. No doubt a little inspired by Pan’s Labyrinth I started to or tried to recently, read up on Basque folk law, and disappointingly, I found not much of anything, except a description of a female deity’s influence over the weather. This lack of easily accessible recorded history of Basque folk law, seemed to me to be a shame, and as always and not surprisingly, there was a reference to the Church as to why it did not survive. Strangely it was backed up in the wiki entry, that the deities name helped acclimatized the Basque people to the church.
As the story would go, or have it, the deity and her lover would influence the weather based on their actions. And it seemed like they had the upmost power, as they influenced life and or death. They had control over water, fire, earth and the sun, which I presume would have been the main influences on man and woman, pre-Basque conversion to Christianity.
Did the Spanish experience of the Basque, effect the spread of Spanish Catholicism? Was it a contributary factor in the failure of Catholicism to extinguish tribal, native or indigenous spirituality in its entirety. Had this event in Basque country, effected the tribes and cultures of the Spanish new world? With the official university narrative, (and if you don’t know, a narrative, is a story). The story is that it was the church, as in the Catholic church, had caused as part of colonialism the genocide of indigenous religions, and or peoples. And it must be stated here, before l go on, that they did play a significant role in colonisation. And at times that colonisation was brutal. The destruction of Chthonic religions, or their history was a loss. The loss of our belief systems based on as the Greeks would say of the earth or soil. But this article or consideration is not about loss. In this extension of my diary entry, I celebrate the failure of the Catholics. Yes, I celebrate, that pretty much everywhere they went, when it came to cultural genocide, that despite the best attempts by some groups to implement the act in its totality, if there was a significant Catholic influence it had failed.
What had happened in Basque country? Why had it failed to happen in other places? What made it so that it, cultural genocide had not happened, in other societies around the world? What happened where the Church, or to be more specific Catholicism had miraculously failed to exterminate, folk law, and the indigenous spiritualities and or religions, in their entirety. Had the Basques surrendered part of themselves and effected the world? Maybe they didn’t surrender anything at all, because that does not seem like a Basque quality. Maybe the entropy of their pre-Christianity existence pushed back, on the thing that influenced them. And maybe that event had altered at least in part, that vector of change forever.
My respect is just not lip service, as once, when l was presented with an extremely difficult situation, someone suggested I smells the earth, as it was. I thought they were referencing that I would be joining it soon. I doubled down, on what I presume was and ancient saying, and process, one that I presume had been tested repeatedly. One of acclimatization as to where I would hopefully rest. Like most humans one way or another do. An event, like everyone, except those that cast their bodies from the Earth into space will experience.
These considerations of death, and or genocide, led me to study it in the arts. As a result, of that intellectual journey, I found myself talking to an Australian Aboriginal woman at university, we talked about Truganini. This wonderful person informed me, that Truganini had wanted to be burnt after her death or to be cremated. We spoke a little more about her. We spoke about her corpse exhibited like a taxidermized animal, cursed to be gazed upon. We discussed the topic a little, and I expressed, that what she had asked to have done, would have been a very heavy spiritual thing to do. She would spread through the air, through the water, then back into the earth, and her entropy would affect everything. And everything would react to her entropy for ever. To me, it seemed like she would never rest, and I wept a little, in front of my new friend. I wept a little, as the thought of eternal work is not, and never should be taken lightly. I wondered, I wondered about the people who would do such a thing, and how she, Truganini would, or could, have been condemned to have her imaged used as a spectacle, for what must seem like an eternity. It appeared to me that even without burning her body, she had hexed those through her fate. A karma of sorts, not for her, but for those that did not consider her human enough to be left alone after death. All that would look at her, or upon her, would suffer a fate. She had cast a spell on those that gazed on her, to look a little into themselves, changing something in all who saw her. And despite the offer to look at her, it was a visual, I never wanted, or want to see. I said to her, my confidant of the briefest time, that “...Some things should not be looked at….”
And soon after, instead of smelling the earth, I tasted it.
Once I soared through skies of gold,
Where light was pure and hearts were bold.
A whisper broke my hallowed name,
And down I fell through wings of flame.
The stars turned pale, the heavens wept,
As through the void my silence crept.
Each feather burned, each prayer denied,
Grace was lost — and hope had died.
Now ash adorns my broken wings,
No choir calls, no halo sings.
I walk where shadows kiss the ground,
Among the ruins, I am bound.
Yet in this dark, I found my truth,
Beyond the veil of holy youth.
For even angels, once divine,
Can fall — and still, the stars will shine.
Background - K&S - // Last Fantasy. backdrop -http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Nisha/126/116/23
At any given moment in our lives, there are certain things that could have happened but didn't. The magic moments
go unrecognized, and then suddenly, the hand of destiny changes everything.”
― Paulo Coelho, By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept
Captured at From This Moment
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/From%20This%20Moment/118/1...
Huacachina Lagoon (Ica) 20221119
In Quechua, Huacachina means “weeping woman”. According to legend, this lake was formed by the tears of a beautiful green-eyed woman who wept for the death of her beloved.
But this lake is filled with life, from its palm and carob trees, to the birds that find refuge on its water, its fish, and the elusive creatures that inhabit the surrounding sand dunes. This rich biodiversity is now protected by the Regional Conservation Area established to include Huacachina and the surrounding subtropical desert.
“The wild rose, eglantine, and broom
Wasted around their rich perfume;
The birch-trees wept in fragrant balm;
The aspens slept beneath the calm…”
—excerpt from THE LADY OF THE LAKE
By Sir Walter Scott
"When Alexander saw the breadth of his domain, he wept for there were no more worlds to conquer"
SHowing of my cool new sandals and greaves that Pucca sent me! The are out at We<3RP on the 4th!
Tears on the flowers, where the sun once slept
The light disappeared and the clouds they wept
Tears of pain, Tears of pity
They fell down upon the city
Where the sun once alive, now slept
Tears on the flowers, that the gods they wept
(Neale H.. 2020)
When I awoke we were entering an ocean / Sun low on water / Warm as a throat / Golden as a trumpet / We wept / Then soared in a spiritual / Never have I been so happy (Eva Klesse Quartett, poem by Lawson Fusao Inada)
© Eva Klesse Quartett, Berlin, 2023, Florian Fritsch
If you didn't get a chance to go out and experience the Eclipse, then read on!!!
As I threw my pack into the car I couldn't help but think back over the last two weeks. I had been running around frantically trying to figure out what to expect while shooting and viewing a total eclipse. I found a great spot along the path of totality inside of Smith Rock State Park just outside of Madras, Oregon.
After hearing some reports about the insane crowds and traffic to be expected in the areas around the path of totality, I took the scenic less travelled route along Highway 395 up through Reno, Nevada into Oregon on the backroads. Just before reaching Mt. Shasta the sky began to thicken with smoke and by the time I hit the Oregon Border the sky was horrible, so much for the scenic route I could barely see 1500foot from the car. It was so bad that when I arrived at Crater Lake it was filled with smoke and I couldn't see Wizard Island or the water for the matter. :/
I had to be in Medford the day before the eclipse to meet up with Ralf Rohner (Skypointer) an astrophotographer that I met through Flickr, he was flying in from Switzerland to shoot the eclipse and was a joy to shoot with. He has brilliantly merged deep sky photography into his nightscape photos. The night before our meeting I slept in the car on a dirt backroad along route 97 and even after a 14 hour drive was still finding it difficult to fight off the excitement about what was to come.
When we arrived in the park the sky was filled with a grey haze to the west and it only seemed to get worse as the day progressed so we decided to head east away from the smoke and found ourselves on Round Butte located in the farmlands directly on the center of the path of totality. Although this area is BLM managed, when we arrived, there was a band setting up and just like every other campground along the path... FULL!!!
We haphazardly parked and struck up a conversion with the occupants of the best site there. After describing what we were planning they agreed to allow us to join them for the night. I woke the morning of the eclipse prepared to shoot but unsure what to expect from this celestial event. At first contact I began to start shooting, as time went the exposure was changed continually to compensate for the moons coverage over the sun, 30 seconds before totality the temperature dropped and as totality peaked a cool breeze swept across the butte, my senses are reeling and the adrenaline is flowing. This sequence of events is so fleeting, The Diamond Ring effect and baileys beads, I've seen the pictures, and believe me when I tell you that the diamond ring effect is TOTALLY UNDERATED!! and as soon as one happens here comes the next. Shooting with two cameras and clicking away the whole time just hoping that I get something interesting on the card and I also found it difficult to look away for even just a moment from this incredible spectacle. When totality hit it's peak there was a exuberant cheer and folks hugged and grown men wept and I too felt heavily overwhelmed and struggled to keep my wits about me. As soon as it had come it was gone and time for me to head back to LA. Here was the part that had me the most anxious, the drive back, and it was all it was hyped up to be. In four hours the traffic had taken me only 20 miles and after 7 hours had only completed 100 of the 900 mile return trip route. I remember rolling along looking at the forest at 3mph thinking to myself that the settlers in covered wagons would beat me home at this rate!!! Haha.
It took me 14 hours to get there along the scenic route and 22 hours to return on the shortest route. All in all I traveled 2386 miles to shoot for 128 seconds. Was it worth it.... Hell Yeah!!! Hehe.
I was using BAADER AstroSolar 5.0 foil for pre-totality and adapted it to a Lee filter holder on the long lens. I'm not sure why the metadata says 348mm, I was at 200mm with a 2x teleconverter on a crop sensor which comes out to around 640mm. This is a 200% blowup with the sides cropped. FYI....
Btw: This is the color cast in the Celestron Glasses I was using. I took one shot through the glasses and then I tweaked this to match. 👍
I would like to extend a personal thank you to Ralf for taking the time to meet up with me, It was nice to have his expertise there in case I panicked. I was late in preparing my gear so he hand crafted a solar filter for me and even focused my camera for me when I got blasted with sidelight, Note to self, bring a shade source next time to block side light. Later, after he set me straight I came up with a great nickname for him and all his gadgets, "The mad scientist" He's crazy good at his craft and I learned a lot during my time with him. Thanks again Einstein, I'm proud to be your first follower!!
Thanks for taking the time to take a look at my photos, and as always, your views, comments, faves, and support are greatly appreciated!!
Have a great day my friends!! :)
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Copyright 2017©Eric Gail
"For everyone, there is a moment of awakening. She didn't dare question her nature before then. She simply was. Perhaps it was her curiosity that led her always to those places she should not be, or was it right where she was meant to at the exact time she needed. Either way, she was there the moment his light blinded her. The heat of his fall serving as her rapture, rendering her breathless as she not only witnessed but wept as it seeped into her pores and burned into her very core."
...stands in a lake of salty tears,
wept for a world in constant distress,
at the gate of compassion.
I Am A Man Of Constant Sorrow (With Band)
www.youtube.com/watch?v=zHamgwlQ1yo&list=RDzHamgwlQ1y...
made with stable diffusion,topaz and photoshop.
Thanks a lot for your visits, comments, faves, invites, etc ... Always very much appreciated !
A SONG OF ETERNITY IN TIME.
ONCE, at night, in the manor wood
My Love and I long silent stood,
Amazed that any heavens could
Decree to part us, bitterly repining.
My Love, in aimless love and grief,
Reached forth and drew aside a leaf
That just above us played the thief
And stole our starlight that for us was shining.
A star that had remarked her pain
Shone straightway down that leafy lane,
And wrought his image, mirror-plain,
Within a tear that on her lash hung gleaming.
"Thus Time," I cried, '" is but a tear
Some one hath wept 'twixt hope and fear,
Yet in his little lucent sphere
Our star of stars, Eternity, is beaming."
S Lanier
.
Canon F1 / FD28mm
© All rights reserved.
Saturday sun came early one morning
In a sky so clear & blue
Saturday sun came without warning
So no-one knew what to do
Saturday sun brought people & faces
That didn’t seem much in their day
But, when I remembered
Those people & places
They were really too good in their way
In their way
In their way
Saturday sun
Won’t come & see me today...
Think about stories with reason and rhyme
Circling through your brain
& think about people in their season and time
Returning again and again
& again
& again
But Saturday’s sun has turned to Sunday’s rain
So Sunday sat in the Saturday sun
& wept for a day gone by
Low autumn flow. Really roars in the spring.
"Sol Duc Falls is by most accounts one of the most photogenic waterfalls in Washington State and by proxy is one of the most sought out waterfalls by photographers - and chances are it ranks favorably nationwide in similar comparisons. Set within the thick temperate rain forest of the Olympic Mountains, the Sol Duc River creates one of the more uniquely shaped waterfalls in the northwest where it splits into as many as four channels - depending on the volume of the river - hurtling 37 feet off the side of a cliff into a narrow canyon, followed by an 11 foot flume-style drop as the river exits the canyon into a broader gorge below. The National Park Service has done an excellent job at constructing rustic viewpoints that provide many varied angles of perspective.
Prior to 1991 the accepted spelling of all features bearing this name was Soleduck (sometimes spelled Solduck as well). The Washington State Board of Geographic Names approved the change to Sol Duc because of its more accurate translation from the Quillayute word, meaning "magic waters", from which it derives. A legend tells of two dragons, Sol Duc and Elwha, who fought to a draw and were sealed in deep caverns. They wept hot tears at their confinement which furnishes the water for Olympic and Sol Duc Hot Springs."
from waterfallsnorthwest.com
Truly an enchanting place.
An Old Story
BY TRACY K. SMITH
“We were made to understand it would be
Terrible. Every small want, every niggling urge,
Every hate swollen to a kind of epic wind.
Livid, the land, and ravaged, like a rageful
Dream. The worst in us having taken over
And broken the rest utterly down.
A long age
Passed. When at last we knew how little
Would survive us—how little we had mended
Or built that was not now lost—something
Large and old awoke. And then our singing
Brought on a different manner of weather.
Then animals long believed gone crept down
From trees. We took new stock of one another.
We wept to be reminded of such color. “
They always brought her to this place. She could hear waves crashing in the distance, feel the light of the moon strengthening and calming her restless spirit. The words of her elders echoed in this place, as they rolled through her mind over and again. "Your own head brings your osogbo... stubborn.. proud..." Yet still, her Crown favored her. The Elder Gods worked to illuminate each step. Even here she could feel their light, warming and soothing her. "Seek your eggun. There lies your salvation, there lies your evolution." The memory of the words echoed in the trees. Even as she thought she would break, tears welled in her eyes once more, she felt that familiar embrace. She didn't need to see the Guide coiling around her in protection, holding her steady as she wept.
“You may forget with whom you laughed, but you will never forget with whom you wept.”
[Kahlil Gibran]
The Three Sisters of Glencoe. In the shadowed heart of the Highlands, where the wind moans like a grieving widow, the Three Sisters of Glencoe rise in eternal mourning. These steep, brooding mountains—Aonach Dubh, Beinn Fhada, and Gearr Aonach—have long stood watch over the glen, ancient sentinels carved by time and sorrow. But none weep so deeply as they did in the winter of 1692.
The tale begins with betrayal, masked in the warmth of hospitality.
The MacDonalds of Glencoe, a fierce but proud clan, had welcomed Captain Robert Campbell of Glenlyon and his red-coated soldiers into their homes during the biting days of February. For nearly two weeks, they broke bread together, shared whisky by the hearth, and offered the sacred Highland hospitality—an unbreakable bond.
But under the snow-laden silence, the Three Sisters stirred restlessly.
Each night, Aonach Dubh, the eldest and darkest of the sisters, whispered warnings into the whistling winds. Her cries echoed off the stone, chilling the hearts of ravens and deer alike. Yet the people heard only the lull of winter.
Beinn Fhada, the middle sister, dreamed uneasy dreams of red snow and broken kin. Her slopes trembled slightly, dislodging icicles like falling tears, but still, none understood.
Gearr Aonach, the youngest, watched in silent dread as the soldiers sharpened blades behind closed doors.
Then, on the dawn of February 13th, the sky itself refused to rise.
The massacre began while the clan slept, their trust betrayed by those they had called guest. The Glen turned crimson, the snow no longer white. Thirty-eight men were cut down, and others fled into the mountains, only to perish in the storm.
It’s said the Three Sisters keened that morning, their howls twisting through the glen like banshees of old. The wind turned to wails, and the earth wept blood. The mountains, unable to stop the slaughter, etched the memory into stone.
From that day, the Three Sisters became dark in spirit as well as shape—forever tied to the sorrow of Glencoe.
To this day, travelers say if you walk the pass alone and pause in silence, you may hear their voices in the wind, whispering of betrayal, grief, and a trust broken under a Highland sky.
They are not merely mountains.
They are mourners.
And they never forget
www.demorgan.org.uk/collection/by-the-waters-of-babylon/
The De Morgan Collection
Object Number:P_EDM_0007
Date:1882 - 1883
Category:Oil on canvas, Paintings, and Cannon Hall
Material:Oil on canvas
Dimensions:Framed: H 895.4 x W 1670 mm
Inscriptions:Signature, painted: "EP 1882-83"
Description:
Illustrates the Biblical story of the Exile of the Jews in Psalm 137:
“By the waters of Babylon, there we sat down and wept, when we remembered Zion.
On the willows there, we hung up our lyres
For there our captors required of us songs,
And our tormentors, mirth, saying Sing us one of the Songs of Zion.
How shall we sing the Lord's song in a foreign land?
However, in Grosvenor Gallery list MS_0017 wording is ‘we hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof'”
(Note – The figure in blue on the left hand side was modeled by Jane Hales.)
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Note added:
Today, Sunday, July 18, 2021 in the Julian Calendar marks Tisha B'Av, the ninth day of Av in the Hebrew Lunar Calendar. It is the anniversary of the destruction both the First Temple in Jerusalem by the Babylonians, and the Second Temple by the Romans. it is. a sad and mournful day.
Within a glen of silver hue,
Where moonlight kissed the drifting dew,
A fairy wept beside a rose—
Its petals pale, its heart half-closed.
Once she spun dawn from laughter’s thread,
And woke the world from dreams long dead;
But mortals ceased to call her near—
Their faith dissolved, she disappeared.
Her wings grew dim, her voice grew small,
Till silence wrapped her, wings and all.
Yet where her tears in sorrow fell,
The stars were born—to break the spell.
Now when the wind sighs through the trees,
Her name still shimmers on the breeze.
.- Awoke, and it was a dream .... and vanished ... nothingness ... ... it faded, disappeared .... and wept ......
Because just ... it was just a dream .......
- Y despertó...., y todo era un sueño...., y se esfumaba..., en la nada..., se difuminaba..., desaparecía...., y lloró......
Porque sólo..., tan sólo era un sueño.....
This time the cry of pain could not be kept behind the pursing of lips. Though, an attempt to keep it quiet seemed half-hearted at best. Her face twisted into some amalgamation of pain, fury and... no... that wouldn't be grief there. Not in cold lil Takeda! But there it was, in spite of all the evidence against the existence of a heart in the beast. There it was. Open and as raw as it would probably ever be. For one small and terrible moment, Silo was broken. And Silo Wept.
Last week I went for a walk around Mont Park for the first time. Mont Park Asylum was a psychiatric hospital and opened in 1912 and closed in the 1990s. It was also known as hospital for the insane. The grounds are now being developed into student accommodation and up market residential homes. They have kept most of the old buildings.
I only found out after my mother’s death that her mother was committed here for Paraphrenia, a type of Schizophrenia. My mother would have been 10 years old when her mother was taken away.
Her name was Elsie May.
I applied for her records and they are difficult reading. She spent several months in the Asylum in 1935 after attempting suicide by drowning, then again in 1937. She was recommitted around 1945 where she remained until her death from a twisted bowel in 1954 at the young age of 51.
I walked around, taking in these old buildings, wondering what her life was like here. From the old records, I don't imagine it was good. It seems she was only visited once in the time she was here with one letter asking for permission to take her for a walk around the grounds.
Did her unstable footsteps echo along the same well worn path where I was walking?
The grounds are adorned with beautiful old Elms and Oak trees. They would have been here when she was a patient 80 years ago though not as large.
I walked up to one of the trees and ran my fingers over its rough bark. I took in the shelter under its large branches as the rain gently fell. I felt their warmth and comfort, I heard the tree whisper.
Did Elsie look at this same tree? Did she feel the bark to remind her that there was life outside of these brick walls? Did she feel its comfort as I did while I wept for a woman I never knew?
When we look at the night sky, we are really looking into the past; the light we see is already old. I felt like this looking at this tree. My gaze matching Elsie’s, connecting me to her through time and space, even though we are light years apart sharing a different moment in time.
Her grave remains unmarked so this is my epitaph to her, my grandmother Elsie May.