lovers delight


I finally can bring myself to post about this. I’ve been walking around with tears in my eyes lately and part of it is other circumstances, but this is always coming to mind, maybe because it’s a metaphor for a lot of the other stuff.

But this feels so personal. There’s been a nice little patch of pink lady slippers, maybe 20-some of them, not far off the trail around the lake. I love watching them at every stage, from in spring when the tiny green slippers form, to fall and winter when the dried stems and seed pods stand like sticks among the leaves.

But some time over the winter, the caretakers at the lake, which is a county park, cut down the tree that these orchids are gathered around, and when they did, they used some huge heavy machine. The whole area is packed down and devastated. At the very least, the soft mossy soil and other light undergrowth will no longer make the spot seem like a healthy woodland place, and the area is now exposed to the road which was hidden before. But I wonder how all that weight on the soil and the change in the canopy will affect the lady slippers now. I’m sure some if not most of them will still come up this year. I hope so. But what are the chances they will be as healthy? Reproduce and spread? Be as happy? Will they still be there next year and in years to come?

Why couldn’t they leave this precious little area alone? There is a wildflower walk planned there in May and I had convinced the people giving it to wait until May 13th so we could see this little gathering of lady slippers along with everything else. I pictured the wildflower lovers’ delight as we stepped off the path and found these beauties nodding in the dappled shade. Now there’s probably no shade and a broad unshaded path from here to the road, so it will feel like we’re along the sunny roadside, which also means everyone driving by will be able to see the flowers, which puts them in further danger of poaching, too.

It just makes me sad. And it emphasizes what I said before about documenting everything now. I may repost that suggestion. Maybe my pictures of these flowers will be all that’s left of them. That is certainly true of the hepaticas of Black Rock woods. I have watched them dwindle from many plants to two, and this year I can’t find the winter leaves of either of those last two. I’m probably the only person who knew they were there. With all the terrible news we hear each day, this is what makes me want to cry. I guess I felt no matter what else happened, I had these wonders to turn to, but they’re disappearing. I needed them. <3

anonymous asked:

Could you tell us about having a spirit lover? Pros and cons or something like that?

FAQ: Could you tell us about having a spirit lover?

What follows are my experiences that may not reflect the experiences of others.

I find having a spirit lover to be delightful! There are ways it is like a relationship with a physical human, and ways it is dissimilar. 

You get all the benefits of spirit communication (they can be there pretty much any time and no one else needs to know) and all of the drawbacks (hugs are somewhat less satisfying). 

You need to put work and effort in to your relationship just as you would need to do with a physical lover. Spirit companionship is not a shortcut or “easy way” to get a cute boyfriend, although for many of us spirit loves may be easier to maintain a relationship with than a human.

I find my relationship with my spirit lover to be extremely fulfilling, although I am in a somewhat different situation. My spirit lover and I came together in an unusual way and are bound together in an unusual way. I have never purchased a companion or sought one out to be a lover before :)

[faq project]
[the faq]

Let’s Dance

written by the Ludlow Vineyards’ Wine & Poetry Circle

Hand in hand, o’ lover mine, gracefully moving through the starry night.
You step forward, I step back,
we begin with smiles on our lips and hearts full of life.

The music makes us sway, from left to right.
Pulling us into a lover’s delight.
Then our arms wrap around each other, so close & so tight.

The very beginning to a wonderful night.
Around we spin, breaking a part then back together.
We tease with our dance around the floor.

Loving looks, hands clasped and loosed.
We dance nearly too close to the door.
A twirl and a spin!
A near miss, but off we are again to dance a lover’s dream.

The door was missed but instead we spun
into the back of the butler, his tray of drinks sent flying.
But the lovers paid no mind, they continued to twirl away time.
Even as the butler cried out from drinks that flew high,
covering his eyes with a sting of lime.

The lover’s, oblivious, twirled to the music,
as the poor staff scrambled to the right careless spill.
Upbeat and down, they could not be stopped,
even as one tripped over the soppy mop.

The butler jerked the mop out of the way as the lover dipped his body back,
gracefully bringing the fall to a halt.
As the young woman was tilted back, her leg straightened out,
unknowing what chaos it would bring.

And when her foot was brought up,
it hit the butler with a high swing!
h that’s surely going to sting!
A cry of, “Aaah!” slices the air
and the lovers blink as the illusion of their private world
shatters with the butler’s ignoble fall.

He looked at her and she looked at him,
a bereft shrug of shoulders met.
And at once they spoke,
“Lets dance.”
to the other, despite the floor so wet.

Elizebella Ludlow & Lumen Bridgeton of Ludlow Vineyards hosts their Wine and Poetry event each Wednesday evening at 6 bells in the Bridgeton home (OOCly Ledgerman Lounge in Old Dalaran)

Join them every Wednesday to help build a poem!


Εἰνοδίην Ἑκάτην κλῄιζω, τριοδῖτιν, ἐραννήν,
οὐρανίαν χθονίαν τε καὶ εἰναλίαν, κροκόπεπλον,
τυμβιδίαν, ψυχαῖς νεκύων μέτα βακχεύουσαν,
Περσείαν, φιλέρημον, ἀγαλλομένην ἐλάφοισι,
νυκτερίαν, σκυλακῖτιν, ἀμαιμάκετον βασίλειαν,
θηρόβρομον, ἄζωστον, ἀπρόσμαχον εἶδος ἔχουσαν,
ταυροπόλον, παντὸς κόσμου κληιδοῦχον ἄνασσαν,
ἡγεμόνην, νύμφην, κουροτρόφον, οὐρεσιφοῖτιν,
λισσόμενοις κούρην τελεταῖς ὁσίαισι παρεῖναι
βουκόλωι εὐμενέουσαν ἀεὶ κεχαρηότι θυμῶι.
I summon Hecate of the Wayside, lovely crossroads-dweller,
she of the heavens, underworld, and sea, saffron-robed,
sepulchral, celebrating Bacchic mysteries with the souls of the dead,
daughter of Perses, lover of solitude, delighting in deer,
nocturnal, protector of dogs, inexorable queen
who roars like beasts, ungirded, with irresistible form,
bull-hunter, ruler and key-holder of all the cosmos,
governor, bride, nurse of the young, mountain-wanderer;
be present with those who pray, Maiden, at the hallowed rites,
gracious to the herd-priest, with an ever-joyful heart.
—  Orphic Hymn to Hecate (1)
The Book (Hardenshipping fanfiction)

Maxie has been really hooked on a particularly long book for an entire week. Archie has been really sexually inactive due to a particularly long book for an entire week.

Very silly idea I came up with.

Takes place in a post-game scenario in which they’re married to each other and live together. (About 5 years after RSE/ORAS.) 

No special warnings (they do the do so not for kiddies.) 

2,379 words, under a readmore.

Keep reading

10 Words Every Bookworm Should Know


The immediately recognizable smell of old books.


An extreme preoccupation with the ownership and acquisition of books.


The act of divination through books; opening up at random and interpreting a specific passage.


One who devours books (either in a literal or figurative sense).


An individual who loves and collects books, especially those that have unusual printing, binding, antiquity, etc.


The act of illustrating a book with pictures or photos taken from other sources.


A book that has been printed before the 16th century.


A lover of words who delights in their meaning and usage.


The movement of the eye when it jumps from one point to the other, especially while reading.


One who enjoys using long and obscure words.

As a history lover, I’ve been entirely delighted by the sudden focus on historical accuracy in our fictional television shows. This is why I am personally hoping that in upcoming episodes, Game of Thrones gives literally all of its characters dysentery. Yes, let us have lingering close-ups of Jon Snow’s agonized face as he dies on a toilet. Let us cut off Jamie’s redemption arc by having him struck down by the bloody flux. I know that this has bad things happen to characters for seemingly no reason and in the face of good writing, but like, that’s historical accuracy for ya. Ya know?