A pining nymph
“Rippling through thy branches goes the sunshine, Among thy leaves that palpitate forever, And in thee, a pining nymph had prisoned The soul, once of some tremulous inland river” ~…
“Rippling through thy branches goes the sunshine, Among thy leaves that palpitate forever, And in thee, a pining nymph had prisoned The soul, once of some tremulous inland river” ~…
“The buttercups, bright-eyed and bold, Held up their chalices of gold To catch the sunshine and the dew.” ~ Julia Caroline Dorr Continuing on with the outdoor theme for June…
“That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.” John Keats As the prompt last week…
I have been taking outdoor self portraits for a long time now. People are often surprised that all the images here on my blog are taken by me, well 99%…
“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across…
I am a city girl at heart. I love the buzz and the people and the lights and the noise. I like the atmosphere and the impersonal aspect of it.…
I posted this image alongside what it still one my favourite pieces of fiction I have ever penned: Haunting You. I do like the original edit, the way the light…
“This is a work of fiction. All the characters in it, human and otherwise, are imaginary, excepting only certain of the fairy folk, whom it might be unwise to offend…
Sometimes a hat is all you need… You give me reason to live. You give me reason to live. You give me reason to live. You can leave your hat…
Some things about this image… Yes it is a self-portrait. If you look closely you can actually see my camera on its tripod with in the middle of the bauble.…
Yay for it being Friday and double yay for me finally having time to join in with Boobday again. The last few weeks have been so hectic that every Friday…
“There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir; We must rise and follow her, When from every hill of flame She calls and calls each vagabond by name.”…