Rain may fall and wind may blow, and many miles be still to go, but under a tall tree I will lie, and let the clouds go sailing by.

Was reading Kafka last night and came across some rather lovely, albeit bitter passages. It was the bitterness that made it so lovely, though.

Anyway, my sister and I ended up playing with glow sticks. I can't remember the last time something made me so excited and curious! Epitomized in my love for the sun and morning, I find light is a beautiful and magical thing.
We curled the glow sticks and as they cracked the fluorescent liquid within glowed brighter until it shone. Light is lovely, precious, and omnipotent.



















For many times now, I've woken and though to myself, "the trees are dancing today." Maybe it's my inner dreamy hobbit or Narnian speaking, but truthfully, the leaves and branches are whipped around by the wind in a flurry of green against the still sky, and it's lovely.