I hope to live in a meadow full of flowers. the sun kisses my skin every time I water my garden and the leaves are turning an autumn orange. I watch as birds are flying across the sky which is painted with white fluffy clouds. One can hear humming from my wind chimes and through the window see my cat sleeping. I am at home with myself and at peace with the earth.
“I can sit alone by an open window for hours if I like, and hear only bird songs, and the rustle of leaves. The trees are pure gold and orange,”
— Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Violet Dickinson wr. c. October 1904
Met the cutest cat at a very quaint flower shop during my travels.
I loved to sleep with the window open. Rainy nights were the best of all: I would open the window and put my head on the pillow and close my eyes and feel the wind on my face and listen to the trees sway and creak.
If you care even a little bit about climate change, animal abuse, world hunger, colonialism, deforestation, human health, the oceans, you really really really need to take a long hard look at what you eat. As much as people don’t want to admit it, animal agriculture is killing the environment, animals, and humans, and the longer society refuses to admit it the more damage is going to be done.
if you start living for the smallest reasons, that’s when you know you’re really living. the smell of rain after a thunderstorm, the shades of pavements when it’s autumn, the harvest season and the unspoken competition to pick the freshest tomatoes, the mediocre midnights and the color of the sunsets, the smell of bakeshops early in the morning, the frosty breeze of the fast-approaching winter, the warmth of oven when baking christmas cookies, the thickness of paper when flipping through magazine pages, the smell of new books and new clothes and new things. when you start looking at things, really really looking, you’ll start living. because then you’ll understand how it is to really be a human in this world full of people.
You’ll always be the
oak tree in autumn;beautiful and strong,
even when you seem
to be falling apart.
Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The morning of the first September was crisp and golden as an apple…
“Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The morning of the first September was crisp and golden as an apple.”
— Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows [JK Rowling] (via alrightanakin)
