"Hope" is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all

And sweetest- in the Gale is heard

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm-

I've heard it the chillest land-

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - Never - In Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

by: Emily Dickinson

Image taken at Crystal Gardens -

Crystal Gardens

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♫ What I've Done [Official Music Video] - Linkin Park

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me."

Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

(Emily Dickinson)

“Hope” by: Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

(Spanish Translation):

“La Esperanza” es algo con alas-

Que posa en el alma -

Y canta las melodías sin palabras -

Y nunca se detiene - del todo -

Ni una sola migaja me ha pedido.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me. ~ Emily Dickinson

HOPE is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I ’ve heard it in the chillest land,

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

Emily Dickinson

Explored Dec 21, 2008

"Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all.

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chillest land,

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me."

Emily Dickinson

Deichtor Rings, Hamburg

Some found art? A pair of chairs sit invitingly in Trafalgar Park, Victoria, British Columbia, overlooking the Strait of Juan de Fuca. That's the Trial Island Lighthouse at right in the background, and the Olympic mountains in Washington state on the horizon between the chairs. We sat for a spell. Funnily, when I go look at the Google map now, this spot is labelled 'Chillest spot to chill'.

"“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me."

- Emily Dickinson (1830-1886).

If there's one poet I love more than William Blake, it's Emily Dickinson. In many ways the Sage from Amherst was just as difficult to understand as Blake (whom she had read thoroughly of course). But Dickinson is beguiling for the way she dressed her complexity in simple words.

Here in this dull industrial landscape a lone swallow flies. We are kin to each other that bird and I. Here I was taking some photographs that capture a moment, and that feathered creature was darting around simply enjoying the thrill of the moment. Somewhere, as Emily Dickinson said, there is "Hope".

BY EMILY DICKINSON

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

❤︎

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –

And sore must be the storm –

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm –

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –

And on the strangest Sea –

Yet – never – in Extremity,

It asked a crumb – of me.

Emily Dickinson

Black Paper

For A Reason

Movie : Bird Box

In a post-apocalyptic world, Malorie Hayes informs two young children that they are going down the river in a rowboat. She sternly instructs them not to remove their blindfolds, or they will die.

Ana in Opensim

hellayver's region Opensim

Nature photography.

Studio: "Jumis Dreamers"

Sitting Paragon: Violetta

Location: "V's Place"

Capture: Firestorm

Presets, Editing & Post Processing: Gimp

:: NO Ai ::

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope is the Thing With Feathers

~Emily Dickinson~

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Paul the bird man - I love this guy-he's like a bird magician. The way the local birds flock to his open hands in anticipation of a feast, is just wonderful to watch and to capture in light. Great street photography from the great city of Bath.

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

Hope is the thing with feathers

by Emily Dickinson.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you for your support and comments of my photography!

Would you like to licence an image or purchase a fine art print?

Why not contact me @: Www | instagram | email

Follow me on instagram: www.instagram.com/daz.smith/

“Hope” is the thing with feathers

BY EMILY DICKINSON

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

"During turbulent or troubled times, hope is there for us!"

Not a very sharp image of this heron - I'am not a bird fotographer - but when I walked here it flew up and in a split second I thought of grabbing my camera.

Actually I needed a singing bird to accompany this image, but well, this has feathers...

‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers –

That perches in the soul –

And sings the tune without the words –

And never stops – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –

And sore must be the storm –

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm –

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –

And on the strangest Sea –

Yet – never – in Extremity,

It asked a crumb – of me.

Poem by Emily Dickinson

Thank you for taken your time to visit me, comments or faves are

always much appreciated!

Just chilling with my lil homie

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul

And sings the tune without the words

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land

And on the strangest sea,

Yet never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

~Emily Dickinson

Welcome to a laid back atmosphere where nightlife can finally be cozy. The chillest spot in Macon where you can bring your own bottle and pour your own drink! Simple and affordable!

cherrysthookah.com/

“Hope” is the thing with feathers

By Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

Thanks to you Le Chateau is perhaps the chillest place in Second Life: a place where it’s perpetually the summer of 1985.

We went from a shabby roadside motel in the obscure mainland to a multi-sim leisure resort offering a wide variety of entertainment all over this new French Guiana Community project committed to making a more beautiful mainland within a common theme. And you know the best part? We're still growing to offer even more fun!

Thank you so much! Bon anniversaire Le Chateau! ❤

✦ Websites:

- peinturelure.wixsite.com/le-chateau-motel

- peinturelure.wixsite.com/le-chateau-plaza

✦ Flickr group: www.flickr.com/groups/14746714@N24/

✦ Discord : discord.gg/8yy8SPaqJu

✦ SLurl: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/St%20Lion/197/67/78

"Hope" is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul

And sings the tune without the words

And never stops at all,

It asked a crumb of me.

Emily Dickinson

Macro Mondays theme: "Patterns in Nature"

White-faced cockatiel feather (1.75 inches)

I hope you will enjoy the other feather images following this one in my photostream.

HMM

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

BY EMILY DICKINSON

is the thing with feathers

that perches in the soul

and sings the tune...without the words,

and never stops at all

and sweetest in the gale is heard

and sore must be the storm

that could abash the little bird

that kept so many warm

I've heard it in the chillest land

and on the strangest sea

Yet, never, in extremity

it asked a crumb of me

--Emily Dickinson--

ღ Only the chillest vibes in SL whenever these people are involved. Whether it's shopping for random things or just watching videos on Youtube I always have the best time. Thanks for sticking with me through thick and thin ღ

Our Last Night | Chicopee, Mass.

View On Black

Twitter.

Facebook.

Natty light.

First off, let me say, these were THE coolest guys to work with. Such good dudes.

This weekend was more than anything that I could ever imagine it ever being. Gage and Jeremy and the chillest guys. . Jeremy's hospitality is unreal. Such an awesome guy, and way too nice.

Gage is such a genuine breather. His energy is an instant inspiration. His ability to form his ideas and work flow into a way to be taught is so natural. I don't think he even know how well he conveyed everything.

such good times chilling with Gage, Dan, Mark, Petey, & so many more outside Jeremy's pad. Good times.

So many good people. So many good talks.

A little house high on a mountains side, in autumn.

One of the chillest places I have visited. I wish i could live here :(

If you clicked on this photo I hope you know who these characters are, but if you don't I will tell you their names.

Sans - The chillest skeleton around.

Frisk Chara - The one who fell down a hole.

Papyrus - The coolest skeleton around (as evidence by his shirt).

I'm not sure whether or not I'll be making any more figures from this game, but if you want me to, let me know and I'll consider it more.

“Hope” is the Thing with Feathers

By Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

"Hope" is the thing with feathers—

That perches in the soul—

And sings the tune without the words—

And never stops—at all—

And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—

And sore must be the storm—

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm—

I've heard it in the chillest land—

And on the strangest Sea—

Yet, never, in Extremity,

It asked a crumb—of Me.

Emily Dickinson

Feather and droplet

This will be one of three that I will be posting, so bear with me. ;0)

HNFF!!

Hope is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

Iâve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

Emily Dickinson

For Sliders Sunday!

Happy SS!

Photo, texture: My own, Filter: Topaz Glow.

Hope

Emily Dickinson

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune--without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

It asked a crumb - of me.

www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/emily-dickinson

Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) knew a lot about angels, but even more about those angelic messengers of the natural world - birds. Birds in many spiritual traditions have had close links with prophets. Elijah was fed by the ravens when hiding from the murderous wrath of evil King Ahab.

In medieval times the patron saint of animals, St Francis of Assisi, would preach to the birds so ostensibly they would spread the good news amongst their flocks too. Perhaps it is not surprising then that the archetypal image of an angel is one with feathered wings (though in the complex Angelology of the Jewish, Christian and Islamic traditions, not all angels have wings).

If I had a choice to be any creature at all, I'd be sorely tempted to chose the life of a bird. It is perhaps not surprising that Jesus once said, "Consider the birds of the air, how they neither sow, nor reap, nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of much greater value than they are?" Matthew 6:26.

The way the world is heading, we may need to cling to that message of HOPE more so than ever before.

P.S. This little angel here dates from 1876. Six years before Emily Dickinson wrote her poem. www.flickr.com/photos/luminosity7/50070397341/in/album-72...

"One of the chillest spots on Hades, if I do say so myself. We've got the best Martian grown you'll find in the Sol System, from indica, sativa, to hybrid strains! If you're looking for some other stuff... well make sure you ask about our 'Martian Specials!' Dispensary and lounge in the front, tattoo parlor and ripperdoc clinic in the back for those of you craving some new ink and cyberware or need a spot to work out of. You can find us in the Redlight Distric of Hades Colony, Mars! Come on down!"

Back with a new photo post after idk how long!

Photo taken at Dark Future 24XX: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Esperia/237/170/4086

"Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

It asked a crumb - of me. ~ Emily Dickinson

A robin at Singleton Botanical Gardens. ( robins always remind me of the above :)

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

by Emily Dickinson.

Unaltered photo,

Hope

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune--without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

-Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I've heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

- Emily Dickinson

After starting our mornings between 2-3 am in Siskiyou county, our group managed to hit sunrise above Castle Lake, Faery Falls, Mccloud Falls, Burney Falls, Mossbrae Falls, and finish for sunset at Lake Siskiyou. My watch clocked 14.3 miles and every minute was a blast with this group of IG'ers..

Not the smoothest day for everyone, but I think we all came out with some awesome images and a good day of exploration.

Not only did I have a great day, but I maybe took my favorite Shasta image to date as we wrapped up the day with the chillest spot of the day. Sometimes the best shots aren’t the most difficult to capture. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

The chillest bittern I ever saw. Found him about 20 feet away, & the find brought a small crowd of camera ready bird people. More people just brought this atypical member of the elusive species a bit closer.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

(Emily Dickinson)

Chillest frog ever :)

© Paint the Moon Photography 2010

Images may not be used in ANY way without written permission

View Large On Black

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune – without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

- Emily Dickinson

This was a fun one to do with little miss A. Some of the outtakes were hilarious. Good news for all those bored with the pink background ... getting some new papers tomorrow! And even better news is that it's supposed to stop raining this weekend for a couple days so hopefully I can get out to where I'm most comfortable shooting - OUTSIDE! Man, I miss natural light this winter! But thank heavens I have the studio so I can keep shooting even during our grim, rainy and cold winters here in Oregon!

Hope all my Flickr friends have a wonderful Monday!!

Processed with Paint the Moon actions and a NicholeV texture. :)

Dear Kingsley,

When we met you last summer you were near death. As you may remember, you were a fully adult male who hadn't been neutered and yet so emaciated that you weighed only a shocking 5.1 pounds (2.3 kg). You were too weak to do much of anything, blood work showed that most of your organs were not functioning properly, you had every intestinal parasite known to man and were so flea ridden that you were severely anemic. We didn't want to tell you this but we were pretty sure you weren't going to make it.

Thankfully, you proved us wrong. You now weigh a slightly chubby 13 pounds (we can't resist giving you treats), are completely healthy and are the delight of the entire practice. Your antics make us laugh every day. You are the coolest, chillest, most social cat we've ever met. You are also the clumsiest (sorry, but it's true) cat imaginable and you know nothing about personal space. These things just add to your charm.

Today is a big, big day for you. You are about become part of a new family who will cherish you as much as we do. On this happy day we won't dwell on the sappy stuff like what a huge presence you are and what a huge void you'll leave. No need to mention you are a one-of-a-kind, irreplaceable goofball who has wormed your way deep into all our hearts. We'll just concentrate on how proud of you we are and grateful for the time we've had with you.

Wishing you all the best, dear Kingsley,

Kerri and all the rest of your fans at Carnegie.

'Hope'

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune--without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

Poem By Emily Dickinson.

~ Hope ~

© Sharon ~ღ~