Cantanker runs in both forks of my family tree

and what we fight over is memory’s false
cavern, a cenote filled up with rain. Now why

would you let that dog in the house with you,

my grandmother says, of a shadow slipping in 
as I shut the door. Don’t lie to me. In the desert

once, she had come upon death

sitting on a log to nurse her child. My grandma
was hungry, no food all day and her water bottles

were empty. Death had seen it in her—

drew from a shivering canvas bag
a snared rabbit, slit open its belly with a penknife. 
Each inside a blood-veined veil lay three fetal rabbits, slick

fur and eyes shut, smaller than walnuts,
and she offered them to my grandmother.

— from “The Old Order,” Miriam Bird Greenberg

Jul 25th
Jul 25th  +  70    via anime dudes getting pegged ― from
ARTIST: Wakey!Wakey!
TITLE: Homeland
ALBUM: Salvation
15 plays
"So when people leave, I’ve learned the secret: let them. Because, most of the time, they have to.
Let them walk away and go places. Let them have adventures in the wild without you. Let them travel the world and explore life beyond a horizon that you exist in. And know, deep down, that heroes aren’t qualified by their capacity to stay but by their decision to return.”
— The Staying Philosophy (Everyday Isa)
Jul 25th


French photographer Jonathan Moyal's breathtaking photos of his travels into the wilderness awaken a strong sense of wanderlust. Moyal has recently embarked on a road trip through Canada—keep up with his journey through Tumblr or Flickr.

Jul 25th  +  2523    via My Modern Metropolis ― from My Modern Metropolis

architizer: Contemporary Brigadoons. Read more.

Jul 25th  +  113    via Architizer ― from Architizer


Jul 25th  +  1    via My Eclectic Depiction of Life ― from My Eclectic Depiction of Life
Jul 25th  +  20860    via hello galaxy ― from Alexander Burton

elenamorelli: { from the forest to the falls }

Jul 24th  +  8998    via For the Wild-Hearted Souls ― from a visible sign of my own.
Jul 24th  +  1419    via SO MUCH LIFE ― from m0rtality

A grimace transformed into a tent among banners, waving.

We are resilient. Even in cold the children learn to bend and give way. Tender lights accumulate along the edge, stand as landmarks among the starving or dead. My love, these tears have no bed to return to. Small magpies leave trails of stars between their wings, take on silent air now transformed into testimony, distance’s monument. We all hear the same things get said, bow our heads into murmurous ground.

The radiant silence of snow translates such mandates from heaven.

— from “Eastern Veil,” Sueyeun Juliette Lee

Jul 24th