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Taken on a farm in Bold.
Each time I go I see more.
This time, I really should have asked what is beyond the door.
Sigma 24-105 f4 DG Art
Chapter Six – The Lighthouse Steps
🎵 Today's Music
www.youtube.com/watch?v=rVN1B-tUpgs&list=RDrVN1B-tUpg...
The lighthouse had watched over the sea for longer than anyone in the nearby village could remember.
Its light had welcomed sailors home, guided strangers through the mist, and quietly stood its ground through every storm that had come and gone.
Pippa loved that about it.
It never chased the waves.
It simply stayed where it was needed.
She climbed the old stone steps as the evening sun slowly melted into the sea, carrying with it another beautiful summer's day.
The robin was already waiting.
He perched on the worn stone beside her, his tiny feathers ruffling in the salty breeze, gazing out across the endless horizon as though he, too, was wondering what lay beyond it.
Pippa smiled.
"You're thinking about tomorrow as well, aren't you?"
The robin answered with a gentle song that disappeared into the wind.
Together they watched the golden path the setting sun had painted across the water.
It looked almost like a road.
Not one made of stone...
But of hope.
Near her feet, nestled amongst the tiny sea thrift flowers, a single golden butterfly rested quietly, its delicate wings glowing in the last light of day.
It stayed only for a heartbeat before dancing away towards the lighthouse.
Pippa watched it disappear.
Some journeys, she realised, are not about finding somewhere new.
They are about becoming someone new along the way.
As she stood to leave, she noticed a single white rose resting gently upon the old steps.
There was no note.
No name.
Only a quiet reminder that kindness often arrives without asking to be seen.
She carefully left it exactly where it was.
Perhaps, she thought, someone else would need it tomorrow.
The first light of the lighthouse flickered to life.
Far out at sea, a distant boat changed its course.
Pippa smiled.
Some lights, she realised...
are meant for everyone.
To be continued...
Made with my Second Life avatar, Ai and edited in Photoshop
Mondole', ( Ligurian alps ) Piemonte, Italia
Passi ( ....in salita )
La vera moralità consiste non già nel seguire il sentiero battuto, ma nel trovare la propria strada e seguirla coraggiosamente
( Mahatma Gandhi )
True morality consists not in following the beaten track, but in finding one's own way and in following it bravely
South Side Slopes in Pittsburgh
The hills are so steep that over a hundred years ago the city had to build steps (staircases) so people could get to work. This is particularly true on the South and North Sides of the city. There was a saying then that it's uphill both ways.
A black and white of steps. This was taken inside the Hallgrimskirkja bell tower in Reykjavík, Iceland. The clock is in the background. It was shot using a Rokinon 12mm lens in manual mode with camera set to lens off. #Steps #Iceland #Hallgrimskirkja
Are we going up or coming down though? Do we have a map...?
Another band you won't have heard of. Go for Swigset.
C'è chi scende e c'è chi sale, ma nella vita non si può mai dire. Le situazioni si potrebbero invertire.
Queste sono scale decorate con ceramiche nell'Alcazar di Siviglia.
Blogged for Ollie @ Cubura, featuring the Logan Hat, Marten Top, Danilo Pants, & Sanel Boots, available at The Mainstore. For full details you can check out my blog
Steps on Water
Two crows, quiet residents of our parks, stepped into a shallow puddle as if checking what the night had left behind. Their slow rhythm, the tilt of their heads, the careful picking through tiny leaves and grasses — everything feels like a small morning ritual of nature that usually goes unnoticed unless you truly stop and look.
There is something calming in their steps on the water: as if they’re gently parting the surface of the world, opening for a moment a window into a simpler, quieter time. And the water, always patient, remembers every one of their movements and returns it as a trembling reflection — like a sentence that remains unspoken.
Small things. Ordinary birds. A moment that could easily disappear — and precisely because of that, it becomes even more precious.
Koraci po vodi
Dvije vrane, tihe stanovnice naših parkova, zakoračile su u plitku baru kao da provjeravaju što je noć iza sebe ostavila. Njihov usporeni ritam, nagib glave, pažljivo prebiranje po travkama — sve djeluje kao mali jutarnji ritual prirode koji prolazi nezapaženo sve dok ne zastaneš i pogledaš stvarno.
U njihovim koracima po vodi ima nečeg smirujućeg: kao da razmiču površinu svijeta i na kratko otvaraju prozor u jedno jednostavnije, tiše vrijeme. A voda, uvijek strpljiva, pamti svaki njihov pokret i vraća ga u obliku odsjaja koji titra poput neizgovorene rečenice.
Male stvari, obične ptice, trenutak koji bi lako nestao — ali baš zato vrijedi još više.