beth

I admit to still loving the world. The flowers bent in their small, soft skulls; the lazy pleiades, who tell no more stories concerning their eternal forms of evasion - These are heavy sins. The slow slipping away of old griefs. The way we forget ourselves in childhood, the loneliness inescapable, still breathing there. I look backwards: the insects row on their raw wings and it has been too long since I last knew the haunting softness of late spring. The earthy sinew of swamp waters. Wolves fleeing distant hills and the call of screech owls in the palm trees of my youth. Nothing is what we were told. And our hands grow cold. Still, still, I love the world. 

april

All images taken from pinterest ♡

As the weather changes and the world grows colder, it will be warm here. I will make blankets and soups, bake pies, and fresh cookies. My home will smell of love and there will always be a fresh pot of coffee or a warm kettle of tea waiting. My home will have a comforting heaviness that keeps you rooted in the plush chairs as you stare at the snowfall from the ice-frosted window.

don’t you love when you’re casually reading a random poem and suddenly come across a line that burrows into your bones and becomes the definition of your heart for the next 17 years

mary oliver, upstream

A pair of corvids are observed perched silently atop a street light during a misty morning in coastal California. ♡

2024 is all about being cozy and saying i love you whenever it crawls to the tip of my tongue

and my heart, like the moon, sank into dark waters where nothing was radiant

I’ll live in a cozy home filled with beautiful things and sunlight and I’ll lay on the floor for many hours

archive moodboard for @frostbitten-cabins

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