Beautiful Creatures No. 35: Icelandic Horses

Creatures, Nature, Reisen, Travel
Bildergebnis für Iceland pony
Islandic Horses – A National Treasure
Once a horse has left the island, it is not allowed to return anymore. to protect the domestic horse population.
Bildergebnis für Iceland pony
Bad hair day? Never heard of it.

Iceland Ponies…Time for a Declaration of Love.

They are real buddies and free spirits, who astonishingly seek and seem to enjoy the company of humans.

Loyal, friendly, affectionate, curious, smart, extraordinary relaxed and even-tempered, super-cute, strong personalities, cooperative and resilient….these are the characteristics which pop up immediately if people think of Islandic horses.

To put it in a nutshell – Islandic Horses are truely beautiful creatures!

Bildergebnis für Icelandic pony cuddling
Brin, A Sleeping Beauty
Only Islandic horses are capable to perform a 5th pace, called “TÖLT”. Due to the fact that always one foot is on ground, this pace results in a stable forward movement that is very comfortable for the Human.
Bildergebnis für Island ponies in winter
The Islandic Horses are living in herds in their natural habitat. During summertime they live independently in the uplands and in the wintertime in the valleys where they are additionally fed by their owners
Bildergebnis für Island ponies in winter
How are you, little one?
Bildergebnis für Icelandic horses at the black beach
Reynisfjara Black Sand Beach
Bildergebnis für resting with icelandic horses
Resting with Sláni

Shared No. 70: Cit.: “My Life with Gracie Reminded Me Even Small Gifts Help Keep Doors Open For Those Who Have No Voice” by Dad4Gracie – About Giving & Taking (Xmas Gifts)

arts, Cartoons, Creatures, humor, Insights, Kunst, Nature, Oddities

Please, feel free to visit the very charming blog of the artist Dad4Gracie that provides you with funny insights, heartwarming stories and universal wisdoms of his lively chicken family.

The beautifully ilustrated finding below refers to the capital campaign in favor of the St. John`s church in Portsmouth, which is well-known for supporting homeless and other vulnerable members of their local community.

The capital campain shall provide the church with a new roof, repair water damage to the stonework, and replace the knob and tube wiring that could cause a serious electrical fire.

Give yourself a special christmas or seasonal gift

…by making a small donation. You will find a link to the charity webiste on the blog “My Life with Gracie”….simply follow the link at the end of this post.

No, you won`t become visible, you are possibly no member of this community, you might have another religion, you are financially challenged at the time being (like I am due to the sudden death of my car), you wont get any direct payback or feedback …and nevertheless you´re compassionate and willing to be of help without any vanity & shelfishness. That`s true (inner) beauty which might rise you self-respect and -self esteem. Levitate your spirit…and prove that someone who is in need, will be helped — even by strangers at remote places. I am not religious frankly speaking but I believe that the universe wont forget anything….

However, Gracie and her chicken sisters, who are doing their best to support St. John`s too (pls. see the wonderful cartoon of Dad4Gracie below), are clucking: “Danke schön! Thank you! Merci! Xiexie! Gracias! Grazie! Shukran! Spassiba! Domo arigatou!”  

Dad4Gracie`s Blog:   https://mylifewithgracie.com/2018/10/14/my-life-with-gracie-even-small-gifts/

Even Small Gifts

PS: It would be also very kind of you to reblogg and forward this post or even better Dad4Gracies original post to increase the reach….Thx.

Poem No. 6: “When a Woman Loves a Man” by David Lehman (1948)

Gedichte, poems, Uncategorized

When she says margarita she means daiquiri.
When she says quixotic she means mercurial.
And when she says, “I’ll never speak to you again,"
she means, “Put your arms around me from behind
as I stand disconsolate at the window.”

He’s supposed to know that.

When a man loves a woman he is in New York and she is in
     Virginia
or he is in Boston, writing, and she is in New York, reading,
or she is wearing a sweater and sunglasses in Balboa Park and he
     is raking leaves in Ithaca
or he is driving to East Hampton and she is standing disconsolate
at the window overlooking the bay
where a regatta of many-colored sails is going on
while he is stuck in traffic on the Long Island Expressway.
When a woman loves a man it is one ten in the morning
she is asleep he is watching the ball scores and eating pretzels
drinking lemonade
and two hours later he wakes up and staggers into bed
where she remains asleep and very warm.
When she says tomorrow she means in three or four weeks.
When she says, “We’re talking about me now,"
he stops talking. Her best friend comes over and says,
“Did somebody die?”
When a woman loves a man, they have gone
to swim naked in the stream
on a glorious July day
with the sound of the waterfall like a chuckle
of water rushing over smooth rocks,
and there is nothing alien in the universe.
Ripe apples fall about them.
What else can they do but eat?
When he says, “Ours is a transitional era,"
“that’s very original of you," she replies,
dry as the martini he is sipping.
They fight all the time
It’s fun
What do I owe you?
Let’s start with an apology
Ok, I’m sorry, you dickhead.
A sign is held up saying “Laughter.”
It’s a silent picture.
“I’ve been fucked without a kiss," she says,
“and you can quote me on that,"
which sounds great in an English accent.
One year they broke up seven times and threatened to do it
     another nine times.
When a woman loves a man, she wants him to meet her at the
     airport in a foreign country with a jeep.
When a man loves a woman he’s there. He doesn’t complain that
     she’s two hours late
and there’s nothing in the refrigerator.
When a woman loves a man, she wants to stay awake.
She’s like a child crying
at nightfall because she didn’t want the day to end.
When a man loves a woman, he watches her sleep, thinking:
as midnight to the moon is sleep to the beloved.
A thousand fireflies wink at him.
The frogs sound like the string section
of the orchestra warming up.
The stars dangle down like earrings the shape of grapes.

 

 

I have a friend who personifies the word,
Her thoughts and reactions are often absurd.
Her normal day is a page taken out of a dramatic script,
Her life a big fat melodramatic manuscript.
Our story began in the most unexpected way,
Thanks to all the attention to her I had to pay.
But […]

via Mrs. Melodrama — The Travellothoner

Shared No. 52: Mrs. Melodrama — by The Travellothoner (“Wow! Very affectionate lines…”)

Gedichte, poems, Uncategorized