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Photo Essay

A Walk on The Trail

One of the reasons we moved to Washington was the Riverfront Trail. I never get tired of it, because depending on the time of day and the season it offers different kinds of beauty. Here are some pictures from my walk tonight at sunset paired with some wonderful quotes.

 “People who walk across dark bridges, past saints, with dim, small lights. Clouds which move across gray skies past churches with towers darkened in the dusk. One who leans against granite railing gazing into the evening waters, His hands resting on old stones.”  ― Franz Kafka

“People who walk across dark bridges, past saints,
with dim, small lights.
Clouds which move across gray skies
past churches
with towers darkened in the dusk.
One who leans against granite railing
gazing into the evening waters,
His hands resting on old stones.”
― Franz Kafka

“Every plant teaches us. When the blossom dies, the fruit appears in it.”  ― Vikrant Parsai

“Every plant teaches us. When the blossom dies, the fruit appears in it.”
― Vikrant Parsai

“Ready for a new life”  ― Sylvia Plath

“Ready for a new life”
― Sylvia Plath

 “and the leaves were telling secrets to the wind.”  ― Peter Mulvey

“and the leaves were telling secrets to the wind.”
― Peter Mulvey

"We may pass violets looking for roses. We may pass contentment looking for victory." Bernard Williams

“We may pass violets looking for roses. We may pass contentment looking for victory.”
Bernard Williams

“It was such a spring day as breathes into a man an ineffable yearning, a painful sweetness, a longing that makes him stand motionless, looking at the leaves or grass, and fling out his arms to embrace he knows not what.”  ― John Galsworthy, The Forsyte Saga

“It was such a spring day as breathes into a man an ineffable yearning, a painful sweetness, a longing that makes him stand motionless, looking at the leaves or grass, and fling out his arms to embrace he knows not what.”
― John Galsworthy, The Forsyte Saga

When the spirits are low, when the day appears dark, when work becomes monotonous, when hope hardly seems worth having, just mount a bicycle and go out for a spin down the road, without thought on anything but the ride you are taking.”  ― Arthur Conan Doyle

“When the spirits are low, when the day appears dark, when work becomes monotonous, when hope hardly seems worth having, just mount a bicycle and go out for a spin down the road, without thought on anything but the ride you are taking.”
― Arthur Conan Doyle

“Golden bridge, silver bridge or diamond bridge; it doesn’t matter! As long as the bridge takes you across the other side, it is a good bridge!”  ― Mehmet Murat ildan

“Golden bridge, silver bridge or diamond bridge; it doesn’t matter! As long as the bridge takes you across the other side, it is a good bridge!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.”  ― Henry Ellis

“All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.”
― Henry Ellis

 

“Too much green, too much happiness”  ― Mehmet Murat ildan

“Too much green, too much happiness”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“Song of myself A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;  How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green  stuff woven.  Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,  A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt,  Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see  and remark, and say Whose?  Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the vegetation.”  ― Walt Whitman

“Song of myself
A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;
How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he.
I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green
stuff woven.
Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt,
Bearing the owner’s name someway in the corners, that we may see
and remark, and say Whose?
Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the vegetation.”
― Walt Whitman

“The earth laughs in flowers.”  ― Ralph Waldo Emerson

“The earth laughs in flowers.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Are you a princess? I said & she said I'm much more than a princess, but you don't have a name for it yet here on earth. ”  ― Brian Andreas

“Are you a princess? I said & she said I’m much more than a princess, but you don’t have a name for it yet here on earth. ”
― Brian Andreas

“There was after all no mystery in the end of love, no mystery but the mystery of love itself, which was large certainly but as real as grass, as natural and unaccountable as bloom and branch and their growth.”  ― John Crowley, Little, Big

“There was after all no mystery in the end of love, no mystery but the mystery of love itself, which was large certainly but as real as grass, as natural and unaccountable as bloom and branch and their growth.”
― John Crowley, Little, Big

“You smiled and talked to me of nothing and I felt that for this I had been waiting long.”  ― Rabindranath Tagore

“You smiled and talked to me of nothing and I felt that for this I had been waiting long.”
― Rabindranath Tagore

A large drop of sun lingered on the horizon and then dripped over and was gone, and the sky was brilliant over the spot where it had gone, and a torn cloud, like a bloody rag, hung over the spot of its going. And dusk crept over the sky from the eastern horizon, and darkness crept over the land from the east.”  ― John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath

A large drop of sun lingered on the horizon and then dripped over and was gone, and the sky was brilliant over the spot where it had gone, and a torn cloud, like a bloody rag, hung over the spot of its going. And dusk crept over the sky from the eastern horizon, and darkness crept over the land from the east.”
― John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath

“Without darkness, nothing comes to birth, As without light, nothing flowers.”  ― May Sarton

“Without darkness, nothing comes to birth, As without light, nothing flowers.”
― May Sarton

If you like the pictures and you’d like a print, e-mail me at slavabowman@yahoo.com. Thank you 🙂

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

About Slava

I am a twenty-something Bulgarian girl in the USA, re-discovering the world through the lens.

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