THIS. IS A BIG DEAL. PLEASE REBLOG.
for alex, and others.
(Source: climateadaptation)
183 notes
THIS. IS A BIG DEAL. PLEASE REBLOG.
for alex, and others.
(Source: climateadaptation)
I tremble with gratitude
for my children and their children
who take pleasure in one another
At our dinners together, the dead
enter and pass among us
in living love and in memory.
And so the young are taught.
WB
A conversation with cleverbot which began with me being accused of mental illness because I said I was tired.
When you get the time to do it and you drive up here and leave your truck and walk into the woods and stay awhile in a pretty place where you don’t hear no noise and nothings bothering you, and you go back the next week and that place is not even there, that’s hard.
Joe Begley (1919-2000) of Blackey, Kentucky,
Speaking of mountain-top removal coal mining.
These are things which I saw over and over today. Tomorrow, I think a story.
Boarded peeling clapboard houses
Drainage ditches overflowing
Clods of tilled earth, sinking
The plow, which yields not
Single crop fields stretching to Iowa
Lots for sale
Piles of discarded apple trees, waiting for kerosine
Muddy livestock, spread out in open frozen fields, miles from home
Hog barns behind faded red bank barns, half sunken in and fallen over.
The farmers hope for wealth, freedom and quiet; But more likely, his absolute ruin
John Taylor’s Month Away by King Creosote and John Hopkins is my jam this morning…but it exceeds tumblr’s 10mb limit.
‘he’s one of the most magical people I’ve ever met’
Talking about my high school art teacher. He inspired some now pretty famous illustrators, along with a couple generations of outstanding human beings. I feel really lucky to have had the opportunity to watch trees dance with him.
Deciding not to continue chemo
is deciding to make your way off life’s summit, and clamor down, one foot in front of the other, into the valley of the shadow of death.
Before we kill another child
for righteousness’ sake, to serve
some bloody patriot’s anthem
and his flag, let us leave forever
our ancestral lands, our holy books,
our god thoughtified to the mean
of our smallest selves. Let us go
to the graveyard and lie down
forever among the speechless stones.
Wendell Berry
Leavings.