bapples grassfield

Summer in Kamchatka by Andrey Grachev

Sunset after the Rain by Alexej Kokorin

In the Gorge, Altai Mountains by Andrey Polyakov

by Luzanov Vyacheslav

by Chironius

Wild Garlic Woodland by Michelle Bullimore

Something’s moving in, I hear the weather in the wind, sense the tension of a sheep-field and the pilgrimage of fins.  Something’s not the same, I taste the sap and feel the grain, hear the rolling of the rowan ringing, singing in a change. Something’s set to start, there’s meadow-music in the dark and the clouds that shroud the mountain slowly, softly start to part.

by Alexander Zharnikov

somewhere (ig: marshayame)

If I had a single flower for every time I think about you, I could walk forever in my garden.

minnekhada

april 22, 2007

hiadammarshall.com / Instagram

Everyone try to stay calm but I saw this baby bunny last week