Springtime and baby blue-tits singing along to Michael Jackson! as much as I hate the word, ‘adorable’
Springtime and baby blue-tits singing along to Michael Jackson! as much as I hate the word, ‘adorable’
A beautiful start to the day.
listofnow:katelovesliterature:bodyparts:
“Can’t Help Falling In Love” — covered by Fleet Foxes
(Source: fleetfoxessing)
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After months of below average rainfall, April is certainly making up for it. Waking up to the sound of rain pitter-pattering on the window, cocooned in my duvet, is something I find deeply comforting.
I love a good thunderstorm, this afternoon looks fun!
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I have been very lucky in receiving beautiful flowers recently, the sun shining through these tulips the other morning made me stop still for a bit.
I would like to start going to live gigs like this again. Stunning.
Creep (Radiohead) | Carrie Manolakos
(via gawker)
(Source: youtube.com)
This is the thing: When you hit 28 or 30, everything begins to divide. You can see very clearly two kinds of people. On one side, people who have used their 20s to learn and grow, to find … themselves and their dreams, people who know what works and what doesn’t, who have pushed through to become real live adults. Then there’s the other kind, who are hanging onto college, or high school even, with all their might. They’ve stayed in jobs they hate, because they’re too scared to get another one. They’ve stayed with men or women who are good but not great, because they don’t want to be lonely. … they mean to develop intimate friendships, they mean to stop drinking like life is one big frat party. But they don’t do those things, so they live in an extended adolescence, no closer to adulthood than when they graduated.
Don’t be like that. Don’t get stuck. Move, travel, take a class, take a risk. There is a season for wildness and a season for settledness, and this is neither. This season is about becoming. Don’t lose yourself at happy hour, but don’t lose yourself on the corporate ladder either. Stop every once in a while and go out to coffee or climb in bed with your journal.
Ask yourself some good questions like: “Am I proud of the life I’m living? What have I tried this month? … Do the people I’m spending time with give me life, or make me feel small? Is there any brokenness in my life that’s keeping me from moving forward?”
Now is your time. Walk closely with people you love, and with people who believe … life is a grand adventure. Don’t get stuck in the past, and don’t try to fast-forward yourself into a future you haven’t yet earned. Give today all the love and intensity and courage you can, and keep traveling honestly along life’s path.
"(via Diana)
(Source: meredithbklyn, via my-own-melt)
It’s raining in LA and I recorded 20 seconds of it for you. It’s pretty wonderful.
I’ve realised this is one of the things my current house is lacking in. Good noises. There’s no rain, or gutter gurgles, bird song is only really caught from the small kitchen, looking out onto the small gravelled garden we can’t get into.
In my childhood home there was rain on the conservatory roof, drumming on the roof of my triangular box room window, birdsong galore (the coo of a wood pigeon still takes me home), lawn mowers, the engines of small bi-planes from a nearby airfield. The wind in the huge sycamore tree at the end of the gardens. Sometimes you could hear the train horn of the railway line further down the valley (it sounds like I lived in countryside, I didn’t, but on the much built upon sides of an old valley, very much in a town). You could hear shouts of children playing from the gardens all the houses in our street and the ones we backed onto, and the ice-cream van in the summer. In the house, there was the sounds of my mum; Radio 4, saucepans, skipping in the kitchen, or the comforting sound of the washing machine. Or my brother playing the piano, my sister always softly whistling under her breath, my dad blowing his nose. And when it was quiet, you could just hear the air.
Here I have cars, not a constant drone, but a pretty regular roar as they sputter past my house. Police cars wailing as they scream by from the nearby station, using our road to bypass the busy high-street. Police helicopters hover frequently. There seems to be an endless cycle of rubbish collection trucks. It’s pretty uninspiring, and as I work from home, it can be a struggle.
But every now and then, I catch the low chimes of the outdoor xylophone from the nursery down the street, or their earnest singing of Puff the Magic Dragon. And it makes me smile.
This video of a dude doing some yogabreakdance type of thing totally hypnotized me. I found it through my awesome friend Tyler, a hilarious and interesting blogger who recently moved over to Tumblr.
The lyrics to the song are perfect: Maybe I’m a different breed. Well, yeah. With those bendy legs? You’re certainly not just human.
Could not watch this without grinning. Just incredible. Would love to have such grace and strength.