Maine-ly a Wednesday Walk on a Tree Tuesday


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Survival of the fittest. Growing on the face of granite. Life imitates nature some days. This post is dedicated to #TreeTuesday by @Old-Guy-Photos. You can find his dtube video for the challenge here. I dare you to show me some trees! While we are at it, we are going to do our #WedensdayWalk with @Tattoodjay. You can check out his post here. It was a wonderful day to hike in Acadia National Park in Maine!! Who's in? All you have to do is raise your hand!

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I am overlooking the fractures in these pieces of granite, the pieces that form square blocks. The joints enlarge and expand when water fills them and freezes and the joints get larger and larger.

From October to the earlier parts of March, many people flock to Cadillac Mountain to be able to lay claim to witness the sun striking the earth of Cadillac Mountian first, here in the United States. The rest of the time, Mars Hill in Aroostook Country claim the rights to it.

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I wanted to revisit the beauty of spring once again. For that is my true love, true love. The freshness of a new start, to begin, all over again. That is why I took my car and pointed it in the direction of Cadillac Mountain, in the beauty of Acadia National Forest, Maine. Hail the beauty. These shots cannot hold a candle to its natural wonder. But, I breathe the freshness of the pine and take in the salty air from the tide that beats upon the shores, constantly changing the landscape of the shoreline. The walk is brisker than it has any business being. I have on shorts and I think it is reading 59 degrees. Oh, Lord. I forgot I was going to Maine. Weather be damned.

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The white birch bark trees are probably one of my favorite kind of trees and they are sprinkled all over the landscape here. I walk through this forest, noticing the trend of these beautiful trees, mixed in with the various varieties of pine. When I was growing up, I had three in my yard and I used to love peeling the bark off them, fascinated by stories of Native Indians building canoes from them, starting with peeling the bark and measuring it out to the length of the frame. Oh, guide my hands and teach me the ways of the Algonquin.

Winding my way through the edge of the forest and the cliffs of granite, the signs of spring meet my eyes, and I behold the sights with all my might. Nothing prepared me for reliving spring again, in the most delightful way.

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Or maybe this is my season
Perchance
Leaving the irrational longing behind
Welcoming the feeling instead

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Leaning on the doorway, the entrance for which

Waiting for my heart to separate
Reality from not

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What is not to love? The newness of how it all feels, the way the golden sun shines through the unfurling fern.
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I walk out into the clearing and enjoy the day. Once again. And so, I put away my trees for another week and end my walk here. I hope you enjoyed just a touch of the Maine landscape, it is always incredibly beautiful there. Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall. Ask James Taylor.


A flower. There must always be a flower. This flower is dedicated to #TuesdayOrange and #WednesdayYellow #ColorChallenge by @Kalemandra who colors my world. Every. Single. Day.

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¸.♥´¸.•♥*¨) Let the sun shine in on your life
So the joy may touch your soul

(¸.•´♥ (¸.•´ ♥



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Thank you for visiting my post 💖 Because of you, I come back to post again and again, I am encouraged by you, for the time you take to visit, comment or even upvote. For all of these reasons, I am eternally grateful. Don't ever forget what a wonderful world we live in, people. Let's hold hands around the globe and make this earth really spin. Some days, it is not as easy to see, how wonderful it really is. Kindness counts. Wherever you go, whatever you do.


I always post this poem down at the bottom of my posts. It is one that has become so near and dear to my heart. I only post the most famous part of it, but, wanted to post it in its entirety today.

they set my aunts house on fire
i cried the way women on tv do
folding at the middle
like a five pound note.
i called the boy who use to love me
tried to ‘okay’ my voice
i said hello
he said warsan, what’s wrong, what’s happened?

i’ve been praying,
and these are what my prayers look like;
dear god
i come from two countries
one is thirsty
the other is on fire
both need water.

later that night
i held an atlas in my lap
ran my fingers across the whole world
and whispered,
"where does it hurt?"
it answered,

"everywhere"
"everywhere"
"everywhere"

warsan shire



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