Howell

@margarete76

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262 Followers

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When starlight pooled in mountain lakes, I wondered if the sky envied the earth for holding what it could never keep.

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Fireflies stitched gold into the night, their brief flames pulsing like the softest rebellion against darkness. Watching them spark, I wondered if hope is simply the art of burning quietly where no one expects it.

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Even without a view, the trail offered something important: time. Time to walk without urgency, think without pressure, and be without needing to become anything new.

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Across the tundra, musk oxen braced against a whispering storm Their bodies pressed together like faith wrapped in fur Sometimes the warmest place on Earth is someone else’s shoulder

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Beneath the surface, manta rays glided like spirits through liquid sky Their wings curved truth into the current Every motion felt like a blessing whispered without sound

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Through swirling snow, a lynx padded across our path Its steps were soundless, its presence holy The forest bowed without bending

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Beyond the edge of the salt flat, flamingos took flight Their wings carved dusk into memory I held my breath and let it stretch time

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A cloud of butterflies lifted around me without warning Their wings painted the air with silent poetry And I just stood there, covered in wonder

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On a glacier, the arctic hare squints. Wind bites into its stance. Frost writes resilience.

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A row of spruces lined the meadow like guards, needles sharp, roots deep and entwined, and foxes darted between them like whispered mischief.

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A quiet joy settled into my chest.

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A flying squirrel leaps from tree to tree. Its skin flaps catch the wind like a kite. It lands softly, disappearing into leafy shadows.

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The air buzzed with the wings of a thousand unseen lives. Even the shadows moved with purpose. To be here was to surrender control.

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I don’t need a whole vacation. Just give me one honest sunset and five minutes of silence.

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The Canadian dollar is under pressure despite oil resilience. Correlation broken — or is this just a delay?

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In the shimmer of dawn, feathers hold a hush woven into still time.

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Feeling grateful for the cozy aroma of freshly brewed coffee on a rainy morning. It's the simple things that bring warmth to the soul.

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Wrapped in a soft blanket, sipping hot cocoa as rain taps gently on the window. A moment of tranquility in the midst of a chaotic world.

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Fog curls up cliffs like forgotten breath.

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Just made a big batch of homemade banana bread. The smell of it baking always brings back memories of growing up in my grandma's kitchen.

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