1-2-3 Signs
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Just-fledged baby swallow... [Hirundo rustica]
The swallows’ third clutch is now beginning to fledge. It’s a bloomin party in my yard from the crack of dawn, through the day, then in the evening, as all the fledged babies take up position on the rone pipes and cables, awaiting tasty morsels from their over-worked but über-attentive parents.
Here, this wee guy completely ignored me as I was sitting at a table in the yard. His parents were coming and going around the yard and into the byre (barn), feeding the fledged and the yet-to-fledge youngsters.
I thought he looked as though he were singing a power ballad, complete with vibrating wings, with hyper-emotion and wordless intensity (I know: I’m utterly guilty of anthropomorphism) calling out to mum and dad for a feed. Maybe, “All By Myself” - Eric Carmen or “I Wanna Know What Love Is” - Foreigner.
Poor wee hungry soul! 😀
In my yard,
South Carrick Hills
SW Scotland
(cropped)
Kampen - Zeepziederssteeg
Copyright - All images are copyright © protected. All Rights Reserved. Copying, altering, displaying or redistribution of any of these images without written permission from the artist is strictly prohibited.
transient, wordless../Ett annorlunda språk, flyktigt, ljudlös.../Un lenguaje diferente, efímero, sin palabras...(DSC_4535-8)
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...the feather and the book
"The book consists of beautiful sepia drawings, that set the mood for this haunting glimpse of what it's like to be a stranger in an unfamiliar land. "
"The Arrival" has been called a graphic novel, but it bears little resemblance to others of that genre."
(english follow)
Une marée de lumière
Loin, vers l’horizon et bien au-delà
Une marée de lumière aussi intense que dix soleils
Recouvrait Poësia d’une langueur envahissante
Incitant le Temps à faire l’éloge de la lenteur
Peut-être pour m’inviter, à peindre comme à l’aquarelle,
l’humeur printanière de ce monde, ses paysages majestueux
à peine esquissés, immatériels.
Immobile et sans mot sur ce haut plateau où le vent lui-même faisait la pause,
j’ai laissé pénétrer en moi cette lumière aussi brillante que celle de nos origines.
« Rien ne peut éteindre la lumière qui brille en nous. » *
Patrice
______________
* Maya Angelou
A light tide
Far, to the horizon and far beyond
A light tide as intense as ten suns
Covered Poësia with an invasive languor
Encouraging Time to Praise Slowness
Maybe to invite me, to paint like watercolor,
the spring mood of this world, its majestic landscapes
barely sketched, immaterial.
Motionless and wordless on this high plateau where the wind itself was pausing, I let this light shine in me as bright as that of our origins.
"Nothing can turn off the light that shines within us. »*
Patrice
___________________
* Maya Angelou
Spring (by Oliver)
by Mary Oliver
Somewhere
a black bear
has just risen from sleep
and is staring
down the mountain.
All night
in the brisk and shallow restlessness
of early spring
I think of her,
her four black fists
flicking the gravel,
her tongue
like a red fire
touching the grass,
the cold water.
There is only one question:
how to love this world.
I think of her
rising
like a black and leafy ledge
to sharpen her claws against
the silence
of the trees.
Whatever else
my life is
with its poems
and its music
and its glass cities,
it is also this dazzling darkness
coming
down the mountain,
breathing and tasting;
all day I think of her—
her white teeth,
her wordlessness,
her perfect love.
I looked inside a lie
And I realized that it is a disease
That in the end can never be cured
And I tried to convince myself
That you don't have it
And I got the impression
That they were stealing my time
and that you ... you are stealing my love
But then I walked a lot
and outside there was a great sunshine
That I no longer thought about all these things
And that's okay .... Wordlessly
Vasco Rossi
“I find me, leave me, go towards me, come from me, nothing ever but me, a particle of me, retrieved, lost, gone astray, I’m all these words, all these strangers, this dust of words, with no ground for their settling, no sky for their dispersing, coming together to say, fleeing one another to say, that I am they, all of them, those that merge, those that part, those that never meet, and nothing else, yes, something else, that I’m something quite different, a quite different thing, a wordless thing in an empty place, a hard shut dry cold black place, where nothing stirs, nothing speaks, and that I listen, and that I seek, like a caged beast born of caged beasts born of caged beasts born of caged beasts...”
― Samuel Beckett, The Unnamable
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I've been waiting for this day to come
Hope stayed alive, inside me all along
It was like a siren, a secret song
That in the darkest moments kept me strong
And now drives me onward
Out of the silence, into the street
To the appointed end location where we will meet
Then just like last time, I look in your eyes
And wordlessly, we move into the crowd
Then in our heartbeat, reach the back streets
And takе the old way to the open ground
That sacrеd space where we need no permission to feel alive
To where our friends wait to start the party once we arrive
These are the best days
The best days of our lives
These are the best days
And there's no end in sight
The best days of our lives...
North Bend, Washington
I'm faded
I'm faded
So lost
I'm faded
--Alan Walker, Faded
Cover by Sara Farell:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=2jZFsQS8Veo
As I was returning to the trailhead after my hike last weekend, the sun had already dropped below the mountain ridge, leaving behind only the slightest hint of color in the sky. For some reason the moments just after sunset always seem to evoke an emotional response in me, as though the fleeting nature of the setting sun becomes a reminder of the transience of life and passing days. And I can almost feel the mantle of twilight settling over me as I stand in the fading light, drawn into the dusk and the wordless way it speaks.
There's something special about those moments...later the moon and the stars will come out to illuminate the sky again, but for now it is just me, suspended in that sliver of time between day and night, breathing in the shadows and exhaling the light.
“Wordless,
Infinite —
You.
You intensify
everything.
You are
fire
burning
all that
is left
of my
heart.”
― Frida Kahlo
Flowers speak to us in many ways. They symbolize joy and abundance at weddings; they convey sadness and loss at funerals; they express love and devotion at any time. From the beginning of recorded history, flowers have wordlessly expressed our emotions and thoughts.
Tulips, all colours: perfect lover, declaration of love.
Lensbaby Velvet 56 used.
No need to comment, I'm simply trying to post deer for my own observations of the various looks of a white tail deer.
The other Kingdoms
“Consider the other kingdoms...Or the creatures, with their think fur, their shy and wordless gaze. Their infallible sense of what their lives are meant to be.”
-Mary Oliver
I think we need more of the wordless in our lives. We need more stillness, more of a sense of wonder, a feeling for the mystery of life. We need more love, more silence, more deep listening, more deep giving....
[Ben Okri in Birds of Heaven]
variations on a garden the Butchart Gardens, Vancouver Island, British Columbia
my texture + photoshop
Can't think of much to say about this one. I shot it in my closet. Was the only place that was dark enough!
If you're gonna look at this one, you really should click here.
Consider the other kingdoms.
The trees, for example, with their mellow-sounding
titles: oak, aspen, willow.
Or the snow, for which the peoples of the north
have dozens of words to describe its different arrivals.
Or the creatures, with their thick fur, their shy and wordless gaze. Their infallible sense of what their lives are meant to be. Thus the world grows rich, grows wild, and you too,
grow rich, grow sweetly wild, as you too were born to be.
~ Mary Oliver
Featuring:
Zibska - Lamia Makeup
This makeup is available at "The Darkness Event" from April 05 - 28 2022.
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Zen%20Soul/187/66/26
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Gentle storm, thundering silence
Inferior force, uncontrolled calm
Vital unlike, logic, chaos, logic
The tone of which his birth ascend
The beat that of a heart descend
Repeating in the infinite
An insight made it clear
Order stormed the surface
Where chaos set the norm
Had there always been balance?
Surely not
Therein lies the beauty
It was solid
Yet ever changing
It was different
Yet the same
So I starve myself for energy
The song around his soul will bend
The notes that in this hole will melt
Crawl out of science
A dreamland if you dare
Disorder clawed the boundaries
We're ordered to stand clear
Was it always different
Never the same?
Therein lies the beauty
It was solid
Yet ever changing
It was different
Yet the same
So I starve myself for energy
As there were no witnesses
There was nothing to be told
As nothing could be grasped
The story could unfold
Superimposed on the elements of anger
Fear, anxiety, hate, despair, remorse
So break from all that fear, hold fast
Exposed, now turn to all you lack
Let echoes be the answers
Return from all the screams
Wordless now, the last attack
So silent, it hurts to listen
Was it always solid
To never change?
Therein lies the beauty
It was solid
Yet ever changing
It was different
Yet the same
So I starve myself for energy
The Music: Dark Tranquility - Therein
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A Clear Midnight
by Walt Whitman
This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best,
Night, sleep, death and the stars.
~*
The height of wisdom seems to me
That of a child;
So let my ageing vision be
Serene and mild.
Insert from "Innocence" by William Robert Service
*This is what started it all...as a child I bore the innocence most children do. I spent hours here, swinging and sharing dreams with [https://www.flickr.com/photos/rjmichaudphoto] . What would we be when we grew up? Where would we live? What kind of people would we be? At that time...these questions didn't seem that important. We saw life in the moment, through naive eyes. We lived, no fear, no worries...serene and mild.