5:00 PM Bell!

jump-dive-diving-summer-swimming


Notes: Photograph by 

Lightly child, lightly

dive-fly-black-and-white

An absurd lightness
draped itself around him;
all things were possible,
all things were manageable.

~ Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, from Half of a Yellow Sun


Credits:

  • Image Source: Precious Things. Photographer: Samo Vidic. Athlete: Jorge Ferzuli
  • Poem Source: the distance between two doors
  • Prior “Lightly child, lightly” Posts? Connect here.
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”

Zephyr (ZƐF ƏR)

breeze-legs

ZEPHYR (ZƐF ƏR), noun.

Deemed one of the most beautiful words in the English language due to its euphony, rare sighting and letter composition, Zephyr is described as a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.

 


Notes: Definition source: Words N Quotes. Photo: Here’s to the crazy ones (Breeze by Igor Egorov)

Lightly child, lightly

I might enjoy being an albatross,

being able to glide for days and

daydream for hundreds of miles along the thermals.

~ Seamus Heaney, Paris Review – The Art of Poetry No. 75


Credits:

  • Image Source: BBC Earth. Poem Source: Schonwieder
  • Prior “Lightly child, lightly” Posts? Connect here.
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”

Early Mornings

sit-sitting-black-and-white

The air of those rooms
was saturated with the fine bouquet of a silence
so nourishing, so succulent,
that I never went into them
without a sort of greedy anticipation,
particularly on those first mornings, chilly still…

― Marcel Proust, Swann’s Way


Sources: Quote: The Hammock Papers. Photograph – Nini Poppins

Guess.What.Day.It.Is?

camel-caleb-black-and-white-wednesday-hump-day


Notes:

What do you mean?

Eric Rose

[…] The room is dark,
and the light is on her (Dr. Wendy Fried’s) face.
I see her eyes, moving around,
like she’s panicking.
I felt the blood draining out of my face.
My lips got cold.
“I’m so sorry, Eleni,” she said. […]
I barely got my words out, asking,
“What do you mean?”
She came over and she held my hand. […]

~ Eleni Michailidis

Read entire article here: A Silent Delivery Room


Photography: Eric Rose

Lightly child, lightly

simon-birch-painting-motion

“Was it hard?” I ask.
Letting go?”
Not as hard as
holding on to something
that wasn’t real.

― Lisa Schroeder


Notes:

  • Image Source: Simon Birch artist via ufunk.net and mennyfox55
  • Prior “Lightly child, lightly” Posts? Connect here.
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”

I am a man made of rain.

rain-raining-water-black-and-white

I could grumble about the rain and the discomfort, but after all, rain affirms what this country is. Today I stand face to face with the maker of it all, the source of its beauty and abundance, and I love the rain as desert people love the sun. I remember that the human body is ninety-eight percent water, and so, more than anything else, rain is the source of my own existence. I imagine myself transformed back to the rain from which I came. My hair is a wispy, wind-torn cloud. My eyes are rainwater ponds, glistening with tears. My mind is sometimes a clear pool, sometimes an impenetrable bank of fog. My heart is a thunderstorm, shot through with lightning and noise, pumping the flood of rainwater that surges inside my veins. My breath is the misty wind, whispering and soft one moment, laughing and raucous another. I am a man made of rain.

~ Richard Nelson, The Island Within


Photo: Journal of a Nobody

Sunday Morning: Nothing more than a face in a raindrop.

black and white, raining, rain,

At this moment, there must be more raindrops falling on the surface of the island than there are humans on earth, perhaps more than all the humans who ever lived. I’ve thought of raindrops as tiny and insignificant things, but against the scale of earth itself, they’re scarcely smaller than I am. On what basis, then, can I consider myself more important? Koyukon elders say that each kind of weather, including rain, has its own spirit and consciousness. If this is true, there must be a spirit within every raindrop, as in all else that inhabits the earth. In this sense, we are two equal forms of being who stand in mutual regard. I bend down to look at a crystal droplet hanging from a hemlock needle and know my own image is trapped inside. It’s humbling to think of myself this way. In the broader perspective of earth, I am nothing more than a face in a raindrop.

~ Richard Nelson, The Island Within


Image: freefoto.com