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Edgar Allan Poe

There seemed a deep sense of life and joy about all; and although no airs blew from out the Heavens, yet everything had motion through the gentle sweepings to and fro of innumberable butterflies, that might have been mistaken for tullips with wings. ― Edgar Allan Poe, from “The Island of the Fay,” The Fall… Continue reading Edgar Allan Poe

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James Bradley

Overhead the birds are calling, their cries seeming to fill the air. As I watch, they rise, flinging their bodies against the sky, intent upon the moment, spinning and turning like embers or smoke upon the air. I envy them, this life of theirs, the way they live so free of themselves, they are without… Continue reading James Bradley

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