The sun is going down, somewhere in the Southwest.
Somewhere in Australia, in a land of scorching sun,lived a mother kangaroo and her little joey one.'Hop,' said the mother. 'I hop,' said the one,as they hopped over land scorched by the hot sun.Join the little joey and many more familiar animals in this glorious Australian counting book based on the classic rhyme 'Over in the Meadow'.Number of Pages: 32 pagesBook Cover: HardbackIllustrated by Danny Snell
I am not a solian but this has been requested. Since the solian label and flag are based on the land and sun, I made these season-based! All flags based on Kenochoric's solian flag #1: Summertime So…
Explore kobunecraft's 83 photos on Flickr!
Have you seen the picture of this awesome track somewhere in the internet before? which run through the forest... And this? These pictures are of the same track, and this beautiful track is located at the Nike Campus in the Nike World Headquarters, Beaverton, Portland. It is also known as Michael Johnson Track. Obviously there is a statue of Michael Johnson at the track. For the younger folks, Michael Johnson is the legendary retired sprinter. I believe he still hold the world 400 meters record. Notice the golden spikes on the statue and the person? Must be an awesome athlete this Michael Johnson to have this handsome track named after him. From the top, the track look like this. Wouldn't that be so awesome if we have something like this here? We can train anytime of the day, not afraid of the hot afternoon sun. And especially during hot weather like now? I think those who knows how to live brings nature to their lives instead of drowning themselves in a world of concrete.
Explore Flubie's 6473 photos on Flickr!
Visiting Basel and not keen on museums? We've got you covered with our list of Top 5 things to do in Basel, Switzerland without stepping foot inside a museum!
Hello! **I am thrilled to share that this card was chosen as Papercraft Stars Runner Up and given the Quasar Award** I have a tuto...
Visiting Basel and not keen on museums? We've got you covered with our list of Top 5 things to do in Basel, Switzerland without stepping foot inside a museum!
Ships become clouds and towns become cobblestone streets in the magical realist works of Rob Gonsalves.
Visiting Basel and not keen on museums? We've got you covered with our list of Top 5 things to do in Basel, Switzerland without stepping foot inside a museum!
Summer is here, and it's time to let your wardrobe shine as brightly as the sun! Introducing the "Take Me Somewhere Sunny" shirt, your new favorite go-to for all your warm-weather adventures.
Once upon a time, far, far, seven seas and seven hills away, somewhere at the end of the world, a gaze away from the sky and a step away from the mother earth, there was a people. They were special. They lived in peace and harmony. They lived in harmony with nature, their gods, and their beliefs. They defended themselves from others, with a wise head and a brave heart. They were simple, their soul was unsullied, their desires were clear, they cared for their families and their roots. Finally, they were a magical people, with strong faith they derived from the energy of nature. That’s why everyone saw them as different and unbeatable. Unfortunately, life likes to remind us that no one is unbeatable. And so this people dispersed, fell apart, got estranged. From its origins, its beliefs, its gods. It has let time lay the dust of oblivion on everything that tied it to the place of its origin, making it drift away from its true blood, and by accepting a new religion, new alphabet, new history, this people got embedded into some new structures. Its people have turned their back on their primeval origins, and have been building walls to separate them from their fellow countrymen, walls that grow higher and higher every year. This people still exists. The Slavic people, as it is called. Divided into four sides of the world, four religions. It lives embedded into some new countries, some new stories in textbooks. Rarely reminiscing its origins, most often in disputes, where each side uses its own scraps of past to prove they are the true ones, the greater ones, the original ones. Once upon a time there was a people, the Slavic people, living in harmony, almost unbeatable. And this people still exists today, dispersed and estranged. The people who don’t recognize their fellow countrymen when they meet them, because they have different gods, different borders, different currency. Sometimes, the four groups of Slavs resemble four beautiful girls who used to be friends when they were little, and have met again after many years. They will smile at one another, because that’s polite; after all, they used to be close. They’ll say hello, perhaps nod at one another, but still, they will check one another out, from head to toe, looking for flaws, telling themselves they are nothing alike, that they are better, more successful, more beautiful than the others. And yet, it takes so little for them to see themselves in others. They just need to look past the differences. They need to look past their clothes, that is, their economic status and politics, then makeup, that is, the faith that beautifies them. In the end, they should cast it all away and bare themselves in front of one another, showing their scars, creases, and imperfections, everything that represents their life, what they’ve gone through, hard and wonderful times, their history. And if not even then, after they have casted away all the superficial differences and have bared themselves to the core, if they still don’t realize they are the same, they need to do only one more thing – they need to speak. Only one word is enough for them to instantly realize everything, to recognize themselves in others. Maybe they live in opposite sides of the world, maybe they belong to different religions, have different social status, politics, alphabet, but when they talk, combine phonemes into syllables, syllables into words, they understand. Maybe there are no Old Slavic scripts, not enough temples, idols, preserved tradition, maybe there will soon be no Slavs in history textbooks, but the Slavic language is still there. Alive and beautiful. A bit altered, but clear. Because, if you listen for just a while, you will understand a Slav, it will not matter if he’s from the south or the Baltic, a Protestant or an orthodox Christian. The language will tell you that this person, whether you like them or not, belongs to that special people who once lived united, far, seven seas and seven hills away, a gaze away from the sky, a step away from the mother earth, from the homeland, the one and only Slavic homeland. images retrieved from www.voenpro.ru
Lyn McElwee pauses thoughtfully before answering the question I pose to her, which has been forming in my mind all day – actually, for the last 10 years. “Hmm. I’m not sure,” she responds. “I don’t know. Maybe just let them experience it through your eyes.” Lyn is not the type to be short on […]
