#low

I stopped in front of a florist's window. Behind me, the screeching and throbbing boulevard vanished. Gone, too, were the voices of newspaper vendors selling their daily poisoned flowers. Facing me, behind the glass curtain, a fairyland. Shining, plump carnations, with the pink voluptuousness of women about to reach maturity, poised for the first step of a sprightly dance; shamelessly lascivious gladioli; virginal branches of white lilac; roses lost in pure meditation, undecided between the metaphysical white and the unreal yellow of a sky after the rain. ↗

— Emil Dorian

#nature #nature

Planning is helpful. If you don’t know what you want, you’ll seldom get it. But, no matter how well you plan, you will fare better if you expect the unexpected. The unexpected, by nature, comes unseen, unthought, unenvisioned. All you can do is plan to go unplanned, prepare to be unprepared, make going with the flow part of your agenda, for the most successful among us envision, plan, and prepare, but cast all aside as needed, while those who are unable to go with the flow often suffer, if they survive. ↗

— David W. Jones

#flexibility #flow #going-with-the-flow #nature

The garden has wrapped itself in autumn haze. An unusual autumn, lacking that thrill of vegetal warmth when the sap is still alive and holds up the trees, drunk on solar gold. It is the sorrowful climax of a summer's drought. Never before was I so struck by the cancerous emaciation in a garden. The leaves started turning yellow in July and began falling, like a dance of prematurely withered bodies. ↗

— Emil Dorian

#garden #nature #nature

Colors shift like smoke within the branch beneath our feet. Sprites jump from leaf to leaf, leaving sprinklings of glittery dust in the air behind them. Droplets of water are strung like pearls from the silver strands of a spider’s web. Bluebottle glow-bugs stick to the leaves and branches, lighting up the night with their blue-green bodies. And high above us, clouds are draped like sashes of color across the sky. Amethyst, azure, jade. ↗

— Rachel Morgan

#faerie-guardian #nature #nature

...my heart is a desolate field over which geese vee, the sky turns and the days lie fallow... ↗

— John Geddes

#fallow #geese #heart #nature #pain

The river is one of my favorite metaphors, the symbol of the great flow of Life Itself. The river begins at Source, and returns to Source, unerringly. This happens every single time, without exception. We are no different. ↗

— Jeffrey R. Anderson

#flow #nature #river #source #the-flow-of-life

In the first place, you can't see anything from a car. ↗

— Ed Abbey

#close #life #looking #nature #noticing

Her bedroom window overlooked the garden, and now and then, usually when she was "having a bad spell," Mr. Helm had seen her stand long hours gazing into the garden, as though what she saw bewitched her. ("When I was a girl," she had once told a friend, "I was terribly sure trees and flowers were the same as birds or people. That they thought things, and talked among themselves. And we could hear them if we really tried. It was just a matter of emptying your head of all other sounds. Being very quiet and listening very hard. Sometimes I still believe that. But one can never get quiet enough...") ↗

— Truman Capote

#nature #trees #nature

There seemed to be some correlation between devotion to God and a misguided zeal for marshmallows. ↗

— David Sedaris

#naked #religion #religion

Being in relationship with Jesus, "God, The One and Only", is the single cure for hatred ...the only guarantee of salam or shalom! ↗

— Gary Patton

#islam #jesus-following #religion #religion