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The Selkie's Song|The Opal Dream Cave



(Source: aoshii)


An eerie meadow at dusk, with hundreds of grasshoppers among the petrichor.

On the stroke of twelve, the spell will be broken, and everything will be as it was before.

On the stroke of twelve, the spell will be broken, and everything will be as it was before.

Flying Dreams | The Secret of NIMH | Jerry Goldsmith

You and I
Touch the sky,
The eagle and the dove.
Nightingales,
We keep our sails
Filled with love.

And love, it seems,
Made flying dreams
To bring you home to me…

(Source: faeryhearts)

Juno, Queen of the gods, had the fairest cow that anyone ever saw. The creature was creamy white, and her eyes were as soft and bright a blue as those of any maiden in the world. Juno and Jupiter, the King of the gods, often played tricks on each other, and Juno knew well that the King would try to get her cow. There was a watchman named Argus and one would think that he could see all that was going on in the world, for he had a hundred eyes, and no one had ever seen them all asleep at once. For this reason, Queen Juno gave to Argus the work of watching over her beloved white cow.However, the King of the gods knew what she had done, and he laughed to himself and said, “I will play a trick on Juno, and I shall have the white cow.” He sent for his youngest son named Mercury and whispered in his ear, “Go to the green field where Argus watches the cream-white cow and bring her to me.”Mercury was always happy when he could play a ruse on anyone, and he set out gladly for the field where Argus safeguarded the cream-white cow with every one of his hundred eyes.Now Mercury could tell merry tales of all that went on in the world. He could sing, too, and the music of his voice had lulled many a god to sleep. Argus knew this, but he had been alone for such a long time, and he thought, “What harm is there in listening to his lively chatter? I have a hundred eyes, and even if half of them were to doze, the others could easily keep watch over one cow.” And so he gladly hailed Mercury and said, “I have been alone in this field a long, long time, but you have roamed about as you would. Will you not sing to me, and tell me what has happened in the world? You too would be glad to hear stories and music, if you had nothing to do but watch a cow, even if it was the cow of a queen.”So, Mercury sang and told stories. Some of the songs were merry, and some were sad. The watchman closed one eye, then another and another, but there were two eyes that would not close for all the sad and merry songs in the world. Then, Mercury drew forth a hollow reed that he had brought from the river and began to play on it. It was a reed infused with magic and, as he played, one could hear the water rippling gently on the shore and the breath of the wind in the pine-trees; one could see the lilies bending their heads as the dusk came on, and the stars twinkling softly in the Summer sky.It is no wonder that Argus closed one eye and then the other. Every one of his hundred eyes was fast asleep, and Mercury went away gleefully to the King of the gods with the cream-white cow.Juno had so often played tricks on the King that he was happy to have played this one on her, but Juno was furious, and she said to Argus, “You are a strange watchman. You have a hundred eyes, and yet you could not keep even one of them from falling asleep. My peacock is wiser than you, for he knows when anyone is watching him. Therefore, I shall take your one-hundred eyes and place them in the tail of the peacock!” And so today, whoever looks at the peacock can count in his tail the hundred eyes that once belonged to Argus.— Why The Peacock’s Tail Has A Hundred Eyes, by Florence Holbrook.

Juno, Queen of the gods, had the fairest cow that anyone ever saw. The creature was creamy white, and her eyes were as soft and bright a blue as those of any maiden in the world. Juno and Jupiter, the King of the gods, often played tricks on each other, and Juno knew well that the King would try to get her cow. There was a watchman named Argus and one would think that he could see all that was going on in the world, for he had a hundred eyes, and no one had ever seen them all asleep at once. For this reason, Queen Juno gave to Argus the work of watching over her beloved white cow.

However, the King of the gods knew what she had done, and he laughed to himself and said, “I will play a trick on Juno, and I shall have the white cow.” He sent for his youngest son named Mercury and whispered in his ear, “Go to the green field where Argus watches the cream-white cow and bring her to me.”

Mercury was always happy when he could play a ruse on anyone, and he set out gladly for the field where Argus safeguarded the cream-white cow with every one of his hundred eyes.

Now Mercury could tell merry tales of all that went on in the world. He could sing, too, and the music of his voice had lulled many a god to sleep. Argus knew this, but he had been alone for such a long time, and he thought, “What harm is there in listening to his lively chatter? I have a hundred eyes, and even if half of them were to doze, the others could easily keep watch over one cow.” And so he gladly hailed Mercury and said, “I have been alone in this field a long, long time, but you have roamed about as you would. Will you not sing to me, and tell me what has happened in the world? You too would be glad to hear stories and music, if you had nothing to do but watch a cow, even if it was the cow of a queen.”

So, Mercury sang and told stories. Some of the songs were merry, and some were sad. The watchman closed one eye, then another and another, but there were two eyes that would not close for all the sad and merry songs in the world. Then, Mercury drew forth a hollow reed that he had brought from the river and began to play on it. It was a reed infused with magic and, as he played, one could hear the water rippling gently on the shore and the breath of the wind in the pine-trees; one could see the lilies bending their heads as the dusk came on, and the stars twinkling softly in the Summer sky.

It is no wonder that Argus closed one eye and then the other. Every one of his hundred eyes was fast asleep, and Mercury went away gleefully to the King of the gods with the cream-white cow.

Juno had so often played tricks on the King that he was happy to have played this one on her, but Juno was furious, and she said to Argus, “You are a strange watchman. You have a hundred eyes, and yet you could not keep even one of them from falling asleep. My peacock is wiser than you, for he knows when anyone is watching him. Therefore, I shall take your one-hundred eyes and place them in the tail of the peacock!” 

And so today, whoever looks at the peacock can count in his tail the hundred eyes that once belonged to Argus.
— Why The Peacock’s Tail Has A Hundred Eyes, by Florence Holbrook.

(Source: faeryhearts)

I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.— The Gospel of Nature, by John Burroughs.Artwork by 鱼丸0001.

I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.
— The Gospel of Nature, by John Burroughs.

Artwork by 鱼丸0001.

(Source: faeryhearts)

(Source: beauleme)

Dewdrops, Nature’s tears, which she sheds in her own breast for the fair which die.The sun insists on gladness; but at night,when he is gone, poor Nature loves to weep. — Festus, by Philip James Bailey.Photography by Aubrey Carroll.

Dewdrops, Nature’s tears, which she 
sheds in her own breast for the fair which die.
The sun insists on gladness; but at night,
when he is gone, poor Nature loves to weep. 
— Festus, by Philip James Bailey.

Photography by Aubrey Carroll.

(Source: faeryhearts)

Come, little bees;The flowers are getting your breakfast ready.— Awake I., by Florence Bass.

Come, little bees;
The flowers are getting your breakfast ready.
— Awake I., by Florence Bass.

(Source: faeryhearts)

Once upon a time, there was a very old woman who lived with her daughter and a flock of geese in a lovely cottage among the mountains. The cottage neighboured a large forest, and every morning the old woman took her crutch and hobbled into it. There, however, the dame was quite active — more so than anyone would have thought possible, considering her age — and collected grass for her geese, picking all the wild fruit she could reach and carrying everything home upon her back. Anyone would have thought that the heavy load would have weighed her to the ground, but she always brought it safely home. The geese, sensing her return, would run to meet her, flapping their wings excitedly and stretching out their necks, cackling all the while.— The Goose-Girl At The Well, by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm.Artwork: The Goose-Girl’s Cottage, by Robert Sauber.

Once upon a time, there was a very old woman who lived with her daughter and a flock of geese in a lovely cottage among the mountains. The cottage neighboured a large forest, and every morning the old woman took her crutch and hobbled into it. There, however, the dame was quite active — more so than anyone would have thought possible, considering her age — and collected grass for her geese, picking all the wild fruit she could reach and carrying everything home upon her back. Anyone would have thought that the heavy load would have weighed her to the ground, but she always brought it safely home. The geese, sensing her return, would run to meet her, flapping their wings excitedly and stretching out their necks, cackling all the while.
— The Goose-Girl At The Well, by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm.

Artwork: The Goose-Girl’s Cottage, by Robert Sauber.

(Source: faeryhearts)

Artwork: Basket of Cherries, by Andrey Bogachev.

Artwork: Basket of Cherries, by Andrey Bogachev.

(Source: faeryhearts)

Tolkien had seen the horrors of mechanized war firsthand, having served in the trenches of WWI in France. Like the Hobbits in The Lord of The Rings, he’d returned from the desolation of the battlefield to a changed world — a world where all but one of his friends no longer walked the earth. Ten years after the Great War, he was staring at a blank page of paper when the opening lines of The Hobbit popped into his head.And thus was born the first Hobbit — the reluctant hero who departs his beloved abode and returns from a great adventure a changed man. We’d all be lucky in life if we had the chance to experience an unexpected adventure, and then make our way back safely to a place of comfort. Sometimes, the only way we can appreciate our home and the simple happiness it has to offer is to be away from it for a while.— The Wisdom of The Shire, by Noble Smith.

Tolkien had seen the horrors of mechanized war firsthand, having served in the trenches of WWI in France. Like the Hobbits in The Lord of The Rings, he’d returned from the desolation of the battlefield to a changed world — a world where all but one of his friends no longer walked the earth. Ten years after the Great War, he was staring at a blank page of paper when the opening lines of The Hobbit popped into his head.

And thus was born the first Hobbit — the reluctant hero who departs his beloved abode and returns from a great adventure a changed man. We’d all be lucky in life if we had the chance to experience an unexpected adventure, and then make our way back safely to a place of comfort. Sometimes, the only way we can appreciate our home and the simple happiness it has to offer is to be away from it for a while.
— The Wisdom of The Shire, by Noble Smith.

(Source: faeryhearts)

(Source: pactressia)

There are faeries in our garden who always meet for tea —Just past the hollyhocks at half-past three.Some come in feather caps, some in eiderdown;Some come in flowery hats, the finest in the town.When the day is sunny, they flit from tree to treeGathering the honey with the big bumblebee;Faery cakes, ice cream and tea for everyone.Do you want a fancy or an iced cherry bun?After tea is over on a Sunday afternoon,You’ll often hear them singing to a wee, quaint tune.Dancing ‘round the daisies, flitting ‘round the rose;But who can keep a faery cake balanced on their nose?When the fun is over and the crumbs are brushed away,You won’t hear a dickie bird: they’ve all flown away!But when the sun is shining and you know it’s time for tea,They’ll be just past the hollyhocks at half-past three…— Time For Tea, by Charlotte Bird.Artwork: The Flower Faeries’ Tea Party, by Alla Yurkovskaya.

There are faeries in our garden who always meet for tea —
Just past the hollyhocks at half-past three.
Some come in feather caps, some in eiderdown;
Some come in flowery hats, the finest in the town.

When the day is sunny, they flit from tree to tree
Gathering the honey with the big bumblebee;
Faery cakes, ice cream and tea for everyone.
Do you want a fancy or an iced cherry bun?

After tea is over on a Sunday afternoon,
You’ll often hear them singing to a wee, quaint tune.
Dancing ‘round the daisies, flitting ‘round the rose;
But who can keep a faery cake balanced on their nose?

When the fun is over and the crumbs are brushed away,
You won’t hear a dickie bird: they’ve all flown away!
But when the sun is shining and you know it’s time for tea,
They’ll be just past the hollyhocks at half-past three…
— Time For Tea, by Charlotte Bird.

Artwork: The Flower Faeries’ Tea Party, by Alla Yurkovskaya.

(Source: faeryhearts)


Photography: Female Brown Bear In Finland, by Edwin Kats.

(Source: faeryhearts)

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