In the Beeloud Glade

Let Ecclesiastes and Auden be your guide to this affair; find contentment in all things. Sow peace and reap joy.
oldbookillustrations:

The death as enemy (1847). The plague making its first appearance at a masquerade at Paris in 1831.
A. Rethel, from Alfred Rethel; des Meisters Werke (Alfred Rethel, the master works), by Josef Ponten, Stuttgard & Leipzig, 1911.
(Source: archive.org)

oldbookillustrations:

The death as enemy (1847). The plague making its first appearance at a masquerade at Paris in 1831.

A. Rethel, from Alfred Rethel; des Meisters Werke (Alfred Rethel, the master works), by Josef Ponten, Stuttgard & Leipzig, 1911.

(Source: archive.org)

ginandbird:

rcruzniemiec:

Harvest time Franz Schumacher

Summer storm at harvest time in Strohgaeu Baden-Wuerttemberg, Germany

oh! i’ve been looking for the photo credit fir these for ages… hooray!

Mantis Shrimp

scientificillustration:

Illustration by Jas Bird from Greyflowergirls.

Thanks for the submission Jas!

Megan Snyder-Camp
 
Sea Creatures of the Deep

O sockeye O rock sole O starry flounder
O red Irish lord O spiny lumpsucker

Dear threespine stickleback, sweet broken-backed shrimp-
hear the dreadful voices from the balcony. You’re the blind

taking the bull by the horns. You’re snow on a stick,
a stuck jukebox, a ribbon-swamped trike. O gum boot,

O lemon peel nudibranch-do not fear the leafy horn-mouth;
dogwinkle and moon snail walk the floor and burn their bridges.

Lonely whitecap limpet, days are not true. You stand on one foot,
and we brush past. To live a life is not to walk across a field.

Pity the ghost shrimp, heart on his sleeve, or the glassy sea squirt,
run through with tears. O to have gathered no moss, to know a clam’s

muddy joy. You shut with a snap, you blur with silt, you poke 
among barnacles. A bunch of one-trick ponies, even brave wolf-eel.

Cornered, the plainfin midshipman sings when afraid. 
They say it fears only the elusive cloud sponge.

Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.

—Hermann Hesse   (via thetigerleaps)

(Source: ninefoldgoddess, via wolfintheforest)