“Sometimes in late summer I won’t touch anything, not the flowers, not the blackberries brimming in the thickets; I won’t drink from the pond; I won’t name the birds or the trees; I won’t whisper my own name. One morning the fox came down the hill, glittering and confident, and didn’t see me—and I thought: so this is the world. I’m not in it. It is beautiful.”
— Mary Oliver, October (excerpt)
“Does anything in nature despair except man? An animal with a foot caught in a trap does not seem to despair. It is too busy trying to survive. It is all closed in, to a kind of still, intense waiting. Is this a key? Keep busy with survival. Imitate the trees. Learn to lose in order to recover, and remember that nothing stays the same for long, not even pain, psychic pain. Sit it out. Let it all pass. Let it go.”
— May Sarton. “Journal of a Solitude: The Journals of Mary Sarton”.
were looking at metaphysical items on ebay
late 19th century perfume bottles
Il bagno nel bosco (The bathroom in the woods) by Augusto Corelli (Italian painter, 1853-1918)