Inspired...

apoetreflects:

I return to the twittering of swallows above the water,
And that sound, that single sound,
When the mind remembers all,
And gently the light enters a sleeping soul,
A sound so thin it could not woo a bird,

—Theodore Roethke, from section 3 of “The Rose” in The Far Field (Doubleday, 1964)

yama-bato: Lawren Harris Rocky Mountains 1924 

yama-bato:

Lawren Harris
Rocky Mountains 1924 

Learning to let go should be learned before learning to get. Life should be touched, not strangled. You’ve got to relax, let it happen at times, and at others move forward with it.

—Ray Bradbury

(Source: middlenameconfused)

apoetreflects: “Sometimes, when one is moving silently through such an utterly desolate landscape, an overwhelming hallucination can make one feel that oneself, as an individual human being, is slowly being unraveled. The surrounding space is so vast that it becomes increasingly difficult to keep a balanced grip on one’s own being. The mind swells out to fill the entire landscape, becoming so diffuse in the process that one loses the ability to keep it fastened to the physical self. The sun would rise from the eastern horizon, and cut it’s way across the empty sky, and sink below the western horizon. This was the only perceptible change in our surroundings. And in the movement of the sun, I felt something I hardly know how to name: some huge, cosmic love.”  —Haruki Murakami, from The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle (Vintage, 1998)

apoetreflects:

“Sometimes, when one is moving silently through such an utterly desolate landscape, an overwhelming hallucination can make one feel that oneself, as an individual human being, is slowly being unraveled. The surrounding space is so vast that it becomes increasingly difficult to keep a balanced grip on one’s own being. The mind swells out to fill the entire landscape, becoming so diffuse in the process that one loses the ability to keep it fastened to the physical self. The sun would rise from the eastern horizon, and cut it’s way across the empty sky, and sink below the western horizon. This was the only perceptible change in our surroundings. And in the movement of the sun, I felt something I hardly know how to name: some huge, cosmic love.” 

—Haruki Murakami, from The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle (Vintage, 1998)


(via goodmemory)