#Grass Lands

[mx-corvidae]

Scavenger Hunt - Year of the Spirits

Old RM piece from two or three years ago-    It was made for the event of year of the spirits!  Aria here is trying to find some items for the altars they're building along with Panchito.    Aria belongs to Me (Mx.Corvidae)  Panchito belongs to Anonymous --------------------------------- I'm around on other platforms too! Bluesky, Deviant Art, and Tumblr to name a few- If you're interested in commissions, my prices are linked set in the link below. Feel free to take a look at my linktree ^u^  Mx.Corvidae ---------------------------------

Posted using PostyBirb

[subbalakshmisastry]

Cute Wallabies ( Medium Kangaroos) At Mysore Zoo Mysore Tourism

[adrawingowl]

[mournfulroses]

Lana del Rey, from Violet Bent Backward Over the Grass; "The Land of Fires,"

[pellinni-photo]

haystack on the grassy hill. mountainous rural landscape of ukraine rolling in to the distance on a sunny morning in summer

[awholebunchobananas]

This is exactly how Ed and Stede’s first night as innkeepers would go.

“Fucking nature!”

[akkariynn-tries-her-best]

Today's art is green, finished some of my sketches today. Here is an illustration of Leafeon in a garden and a tiny Shaymin doodle. Hope you like them! I love coloring and shading green characters.

[thatgaywizardoverthere]

Hey remember that time in 1.09 when Merlin went to take out wraith Tristan like “oh this’ll be SO discreet” because it was nighttime and then immediately proceeded to publicly light him up like a fucking Guy Fawkes Day effigy with a trail of fire leading directly back to him

[whollyjoly]

so aisha just tweeted this....

and im looking at those last two emojis 😐😳....

and i remember that lou said this....

...and this....

...

...what does it MEAN??

[adventuresofalgy]

Algy reclined on a thick, rich carpet of dry grass and heather, gazing out across the open moorland towards "the old brown hills", and wondering where his search for the light and warmth at the heart of the winter darkness was going to lead him.

Just at that moment, however, it was neither dark nor particularly cold, and the strong, stormy winds which had recently battered the landscape had subsided to a much more acceptable level, having completed their task of melting all the snow and ice with a powerful blast of mild air from the great Atlantic Ocean.

But Algy knew that the light and relative warmth of the low November sun would be sadly short-lived, and he ought to move on quickly, before another night fell and threatened who knew what kind of terrors in the darkness, if he had not found a safe place to shelter before the end of the day.

For a few minutes longer, Algy paused to enjoy the shoogling* of the grasses around him in the playful breeze, and as the wind ruffled his feathers in a not-unpleasant sort of way, he was reminded of a lilting poem by John Masefield…

For the wind that was blowing was a west wind, and although it was late November, it brought soft memories and thoughts of "the merry spring" and the song of the larks – tantalising dreams of April with its golden daffodils and the return of the bees. And as Algy recited the poem quietly to himself, all alone on the wide, empty moorland, it reminded him how lucky he was to live in the wild west land, for although the winters were long and dark and sometimes harsh, it was a fine land, and the land where he belonged…

It's a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries; I never hear the west wind but tears are in my eyes. For it comes from the west lands, the old brown hills. And April's in the west wind, and daffodils. It's a fine land, the west land, for hearts as tired as mine, Apple orchards blossom there, and the air's like wine. There is cool green grass there, where men may lie at rest, And the thrushes are in song there, fluting from the nest. "Will ye not come home, brother? ye have been long away, It's April, and blossom time, and white is the may; And bright is the sun, brother, and warm is the rain,– Will ye not come home, brother, home to us again? "The young corn is green, brother, where the rabbits run. It's blue sky, and white clouds, and warm rain and sun. It's song to a man's soul, brother, fire to a man's brain, To hear the wild bees and see the merry spring again. "Larks are singing in the west, brother, above the green wheat, So will ye not come home, brother, and rest your tired feet? I've a balm for bruised hearts, brother, sleep for aching eyes," Says the warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries. It's the white road westwards is the road I must tread To the green grass, the cool grass, and rest for heart and head, To the violets, and the warm hearts, and the thrushes' song, In the fine land, the west land, the land where I belong.

[Algy is quoting the poem The West Wind by the 20th century English poet John Masefield]

*shoogle – an evocative Scots language verb meaning to shake, wobble, sway etc.

[budugaapologist]

still dont see how so many people say that dawntrail is poorly written in comparison to other expansions like. what, did you realize you had to learn about a new culture and immediately not care anymore lmao? you've done it before, was this one not white enough for you?

genuinely i think more people should do side quests during msq so idk you can form a heart about the characters you're interacting with if you struggle with that and understand the land better so when impactful shit happens your illiterate ass can actually read and have empathy. theres no excuse for this.

if you can't handle storybuilding and character introductions from the expansion that feels like stormblood and shadowbringers had passionate gay sex that got one of them pregnant and birthed a beautiful daughter they both love and care about then idk what to tell you, maybe youre just lame and can't read. best of luck with that.

[ed13d1]

I am never lost

[bluebelly-sun-serpentine]

Sunset, Moonset, Sunrise at the campsite.

[nicdoesntexist]

[mycraftyways-blog-blog]

reddish sunset 

red sunset

[pellinni-photo]

capathian mountain landscape of ukraine in summer. trees behind the grassy meadow. rural valley at the foot of borzhava ridge. wonderful countryside of transcarpathia beneath a sky with cumulus clouds