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Trace Journals
@tracejournals.bsky.social
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Roots, Wings, & Vestiges Of History, Culture & Community TraceJournals.com Carlos Alejandro
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Language... has created the word 'loneliness' to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word 'solitude' to express the glory of being alone.
Paul Tillich
Reposted by Trace Journals
The No Kings Map looks PACKED. No wonder Mike Johnson is shaking in his boots! There are even 20 protests in other countries!!!

##nokings #protest
One of the longest continuously inhabited lands of North America, Canyon de Chelly preserves ruins of the indigenous tribes that live(d) in the area, from the Ancestral Puebloans to the Diné, encompassing three major canyons: de Chelly, del Muerto, & Monument. None of the land is federally owned.
The Rain
Sounds like a river
In the trees
Pouring through the leaves
That fall to the black
as dried blood asphalt
Decayed into oil
Because…
With us or without us
The rain.
And it’s a hard, it’s a hard…
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall
Dylan
Well the sun is surely sinking down
But the moon is slowly rising
So this old world must still
Be spinning round
And I still love you

And the deer on the hill…
October 18th should be Day ONE of a GENERAL STRIKE… not one day of protest.
Day after day
It never gets old
The same walk
In different light
Day after day
The scents and smells
And birds singing their edges
While the moon grows imperceptibly full or new
Everyday I learn how to say goodbye.
New York Fern in Pennsylvania.
At end of generation, a season, a life, an incarnation… fading into the future.
Imagining a future.

A dream waiting for a breeze
To lift it into the ether
The fifth element.
Equinox. Equidiem.
Autumn becomes the day and night.
Not safe to be a child in school or church or to be black or brown or… be a woman. Get real…
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Lewis Carroll
Locust in the parking lot.
Paradise Paved.
Day after day
Leaves at the edges
And then they are gone
Event Horizon

Time slows
Beauty is enhanced
Perspective shifts
Nothing has changed
Everything is different
Dyer’s Polypore
Fungal inspiration for new museum building.
Before the Blight
by Ruth Stone

…My lips whispered over the names of things
in the meadows, in the orchard, in the woods,
where I sometimes stood for long moments
listening to some bird telling me of the strangeness of myself;
rocked in the sinewy arms of summer.