SMWI*: Shake it!

sumo-wrestler-funny-cute


Notes:

  • SMWI* = Saturday Morning Work-Out Inspiration
  • Image Source: Mennyfox55 (Sumo v Child)

 

T.G.I.F.: It’s Been A Long Week

The footage is being widely shared on the Wild Wings Safaris Facebook page – nearly 15,000 shares at the time of this post – and generating feedback that’s almost as touching as the footage. A random sampling of the comments:

  • “Leave it to the smart old women to solve the problem!”
  • “I feel like the mother was trying to allow he baby to figure it out on its own, but the other elephant was impatient. Elephants are stinking adorable! And they stand on their tippy toes!”
  • “I wish humans would look after their kids so well. Why oh why do we treat animals so badly?”
  • “Maybe it’s the mom in me, but watching it just stressed me out even though I new he was gonna get out.”
  • Aren’t animals awesome? We need to realize they have feelings like us.”

Source: Grindtv (Thank you Susan)

Only the Winds


Ólafur Arnalds, 28, is a multi-instrumentalist and producer from Mosfellsbær, Iceland. Ólafur Arnalds mixes strings and piano with loops and edgy beats crossing-over from ambient/electronic to pop.

  • His official web site can be found here.
  • This song can be found on iTunes on his 2013 Album titled For Now I Am Winter

Related Posts: Olafur Arnaulds

Saturday Morning (that hopeful sounding on the roof)

catch-raindrops-rain-mouth

It’s raining this morning.
That hopeful sounding on the roof.
I can almost hear the roots
suck water through their fragile hairs,
raising it through the tough trunk
into the cloud-shaped canopy of the live oak […]

Can’t you remember being a child,
opening your mouth to the rain?

— Ellen Bass, “Sometimes I’m frightened


Sources: Photo by t does wool– “walking between the raindrops.’ Poem – Memory’s Landscape

A Mother’s work is never done (85 sec)

A mother raccoon is teaching her cub how to climb a tree.

 

 

And I know now what a moment can hold

bath-tub

And then I hear the water rumbling into the tub. Naked, the baby’s arms and long legs flail against the bare air, and she wails. “Oh you,” I whisper, unable yet to call her by my name, “it’s all right.” I want my joy pure, I want to get rid of the echo in my head. This is my granddaughter, named for me. This beautiful child. I gather her up, nuzzling her soft face, and bring her into the bathroom, and my daughter, her breasts heavy with milk, reaches up her arms for the child. The moment she is lowered into the water the baby stops crying, her body goes limp, her eyelids drop—it all happens at once. Under her half-closed lids her irises are now moving left to right, over and over, rhythmically, as if to a beat. At first I am afraid, and put my hand in the water to make sure it’s not too hot, but it is fine, comfortable. We don’t speak, but my daughter touches my arm as we realize what we are looking at, what the two of us are being shown. This is the face of the unborn child. And I know now what a moment can hold.

~ Abigail Thomas, What the Moment Can Hold. Safekeeping: Some True Stories from a Life


Photo: With Love and Light

Mother and Child


“As a small experiment of women’s uniqueness and the special bond between a mother and child, we met up with 6 wonderful women, and asked them to let us blindfold their most precious loved ones. Their children!

The children were guided towards the group of women, and using their senses and intuition asked to try to find the one they believed to be their mother. Anxiety, love and a bit of heartfelt tears filled the room as children from the age of 3-9 tried and succeed in finding the one and only they could call mum! 

All women are unique in shape, personality and heart, and so is the beautiful connection and precious love we saw this day.”

Floated down the milk river

milk

For months the baby woke at seven, fed, fell asleep at eight thirty, woke at ten, fed, fell asleep at eleven thirty, and so on for the rest of the day. I’d made him into a milk clock. Every hour was part of a ritualized ceremony of adding or subtracting milk. A river of milk flowed in and out and around him. He floated down the milk river toward the rest of life.

~ Sarah Manguso, Ongoingness: The End of a Diary


Notes:

Forty weeks later we howl. Then the world starts in on us.

lights-blue-photography

We all come into existence as a single cell, smaller than a speck of dust. Much smaller. Divide. Multiply. Add and subtract. Matter changes hands, atoms flow in and out, molecules pivot, proteins stitch together, mitochondria send out their oxidative dictates; we begin as a microscopic electrical swarm. The lungs the brain the heart. Forty weeks later, six trillion cells get crushed in the vise of our mother’s birth canal and we howl. Then the world starts in on us.

― Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See


Credits: Photograph:on montague via Katy Elliot. Quote Source: Precious Things

 

 

SMWI*: Morning Jam with lil man


SMWI* = Saturday Morning Work-Out Inspiration. Source: Weighty Matters.

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