I have interwebz in my room.

Rejoice.

A clearing filled with dappled light
fading as darkness brings the night
yet this is the darkness of not rest, but eternal rest.

The darkness slides through the clearing
turning the once warm glade in to a fozen wasteland
Shadows twist and turn within themselves.
Shapes of things that once were leap follward
then are sucked back in to the abbis.
this void of darkness touching,caressing all around it.

Death steps aside, As new life begins.
Life watches Death as the shadow passes.
Death turns to life it's form like a dark mist.

"What's yours is mine, and you shall never have mine"

A new life begins in the shadow of Death, looking up it watches it's future as the shadow passes in to nothing, life clings to it like the mother it would never have.
The files are gathering there buzzing the only things left in the clearing, as life helps take it's first steps. Life has found something that at least for a while Death can't have......... Hope.

...when I told you that I loved your pretty face.




The world was coming to an end. The sky is falling. The stars are dying.

She is immensely pleased.

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

I saw a swan today and made up this poem.

.

.

Swan, you fly in the Heart of Winter

As white as the Snow you soar above
Swan, you fly in the Heart of Winter
Your Neck is held high, you bird of Love
Swan, you are in the Heart a splinter

...you see...

You remind me of the warmth of Sun
You remind me of the Summer and Spring
To laugh in the river that in the Forest run
You make me long for the Beauty they bring

...but...

Swan, the Sun is shining on your Wing
The clear white, glistening Snow is beautiful too
Swan, you soar in the yearning of Spring
and I know
Hope of Summer came with you

Swan! In my Heart, is where you flew.

.


.


More of the same

In the winter, with the frozen ground and thick snow that makes it hard for small birds to find food, we have the habit or tradition of feeding the birds sunflower seeds.

Apparently, not only the birds like those seeds. Today, when I went out to refill for them, I found the tracks and, hm, "presents" of some roe deer. I'm not sure how many, but probably two or three deer had been there some time between last evening and this morning.

Another person also had roe deer in their garden recently, feeding on sunflower seeds meant for the birds. I saw it in today's local newspaper (well, yes, this is a very small society). The person had also managed taking some really cute photographs on that roe deer, when it fed on the seeds and also when it actually slept in the garden.

I got so excited when I too found that a deer had been in my garden! Sunflower seeds seem to be very popular.

16 Feb 2010
Sevan woke up in the middle of a mushroom circle barely noticing the rabbit next to him, for all he can see around him are little white dots falling from the sky.

Yeah, Sevan's first snowfall. I don't even know whether it's a glitch or something 'cause the snow isn't piling up. It's sorta pretty, glitch or not. Too bad I couldn't take a screenshot of it (I don't know where the folder is).

I (or, Sevan) met the deer with a picto that looks like an axe again. We just jumped around with other deer. I tried in deer speak to ask 'why is it snowing' which goes like: Confused, Paws ground, Rears up. Of course nobody would understand. Then again, I wouldn't understand either if they tried to reply...

I'm still in search of my first TEF friend. The deer with the padlock symbol. I haven't seen him/her around... OR he/she has been on another account that I don't know of o.o Gotta find out soon!

Meanwhile, I'll see what I can do about my display picture... I don't know how to change it.

Plush flakes of white drifted gently down from the sky, melting upon the upturned nose of the fawn, and the creature gave a slight start at the cold feeling, golden eyes widening for a moment, focused on the cold forms as if the heat of his gaze would make them melt.

His steps were wary, flinching as the snow melted upon his thin pelt, slender legs picking over the ground hurridly.

Increasing in speed, soon he was at a trot, then a gallop.

He didn't like the snow, it muffled everything, hid the gentle music of the forest that was so dear to him.

And so, he ran, ears twitching, seeking the sound of his own hoofbeats.

But all that reached him was the muffled sound of snow as his hooves cut into it.
Silence...
It scared him, eyes filling with warm crystaline tears that burned trails down his cheeks, which the wind quickly cooled and froze.

"Mama?

(Read part one here: http://www.endlessforest.org/community/beginning .)

It was midday and two fawns frolicked through the violets on the path that led to the playground. The larger fawn went first, head held high, drinking in the fresh forest air, his tail twitching with excitement. Where the violet thinned out into yellow grass, he spun around and let out a playful roar. The lighter fawn, who had paused to soak in the sunlight as it filtered through the branches, pricked her ears at his roar and skipped over to him.

"What's the rush?" she asked.

"There's never any rush, according to you. If I wasn't around, you probably wouldn't make it to the playground until sundown, and then it'd be time to go home." He shook his body head to tail and spun around again, looking over his shoulder. "Come on. I'll race you!"

Without giving her a chance to protest, he bounded away through the grass. The young doe only hesitated a moment. Then, with a small hop, she was racing lightly after him.

The two friends skidded to a halt as the half-buried boulders loomed before them. A brief silence fell upon them as they gazed up in awe at the highest peak. The doe walked forward and pressed her cheek gently against the base of the rock. It was cool, as if the sun's rays did not reach this far down its stony mass. She guessed the top would be warmer. A scraping sound made her look to her right, and she saw her friend scrambling up one of the smaller boulders. A smile slowly spread across her face. She trotted over to join him, leaping nimbly onto the small rock and widening her stance to steady herself as she landed. She laughed when she saw her friend's surprised expression and leaped easily away onto the next rock and the next, making her way up to the peak.

Raise your hand if it's 1 am and you're too lazy to format?
-raises hand-

___________________________________________________________________________________

He heard it before he saw it.
Twice in one day.
This was a record for annoyance.

He only glanced back for a half second before his nostrils were assaulted by the putrid scent of violets. Rhys stood up shaking his head violently to clear the spots and remove the offending blossoms. He eyed the surrounding trees with some contempt before he laid back down.

His rest was interrupted again as he tried to close those eyes for a second time.
He raised his head scanning the treeline and growled softly under his breath.
Damn children.
They would be the death of him.

He sneezed violently a few times and took for the air. He defied the bounds of gravity and rested effortlessly in the treetops. It was silent and even the birds would hush their songs when he was near. You'd never know such a large deer could be so light on his feet, but for all of his extra pounds he soared.

Finally....
peace!

Rhys let out a relaxed sigh and laid down his head until he smelled it again.
Closer this time.
....
He raised his head and peered over his shoulder.
A skull and crossbones hovered inches from his face and the large garish imp mask rested lightly on his back.
"PSST...hey mister...FLOWERS!!"

Rhys groaned and laid back down his head.
It never ended.
He did his best to ignore the tiny dancing hooves on his back and glared down at any passing deer, just daring at them to comment.

Little bastard was persistent.
___________________________________________________________________________________
For Marcaello
Now stop raping my deer with tussie-mussie.
He likes flowers, just not on his head.
Seriously kid, watch your back or Rhys'll fat on you.

Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.

This has been posted in the community before, but I thought I would bring it up again to make y'all smile.