Goodbye;

this blog is closed 12/July 2017

Photo Ts

Arte perire sua.

Earth our home for a very short time in the matter of things.

Sunset in the Currumbin Valley;

Scientists have calculated that Earth is 4.54 billion years old, with an error range of 50 million years. 

It took 4 and a half Billion years before single-cell life appeared. 

Man dabbles and makes changes in nature. He has created a hell on earth for animals, poisons crop, seeds clouds,  makes a hell of a mess in the atmosphere, changes and poisons the food we eat, overeats, over medicates, creates wars, kills for-profit and creates unimaginable weapons to destroy himself. 

Yet some, a hand full in this throng of humanity show their intrinsic humanity to love and care, try to save what there is still to save.  

Arte perire sua. To perish by one's own creation.

© Photo/Text Ts 

Bono malum superate;

The debate is about whether or not,  enough people on this planet are sick of wars and violence and want to stop these arranged human conflicts. The west has opened its Pandora's box and it seems it can not contain the evil it has let loose on other Nations. Instead of bringing understanding and love it has brought and brings a blood bath to these nations.

Looking back as far as we are able to, wars and violence have been part of humans. Perhaps we are not made to be peaceful, perhaps when we evolved this part of our brain has been neglected. This other part of human nature is and has been used and abused by Rulers and Politicians, by Multinationals, Conglomerates and the World Bank; the whole caboodle of evil,  in their the pursuit and theft of  Natural resources.  A few want to rule a global world and to do this they walk over the dead. The Western Democracy has been sacked, Politicians are brainwashed and use the same bullhorn for their lies. 

 What a terrible mess has globalization achieved until now! 

What sort of game and tune are the globalists playing?  Is it an Opera called  "Disaster"?

Bono malum superate - Overcome evil with good

Photo mygarden; flowering Alexandria Palm;

© Photo/text Ts

Tempus edax rerum;

The wings of time may carry sadness into oblivion.  Thoughts of loss return brittle and bittersweet like a dry leaf in winter, at the softest knocks. Crushed and bruised it lodges in your heart and mind. Trudi S

Tempus edax rerum - Time is the devourer of things  

In my garden/Acidanthera/Ghost of flowers

©Photo/Text/ Ts

A fronte praceipitium a tergo lupi;

     Some People are like a butterfly with a broken wing; can not go forward and can not go back. They are stuck and can not reach the bridge they would like to cross. Fate has conquered their spirit, opened up a chasm, the only way out is to jump, shout  and remember to be free.

 A fronte praceipitium a tergo lupi 

“A precipice in front, wolves behind”

©Text and Photos Ts/ Titania's Pellucidity

Amare et sapere vix deo conceditur;

Sunset Currumbin Valley 18/November 2013 18:30 PM

Nature’s  conflict; 

 the most  marvellous, most beautiful,  the most cruel. Ts

Amare et sapere vix deo conceditur -

Even a god finds it hard to love and be wise at the same time.

©Photo/Text Ts

Tempus anima rei;

A glimpse into time...

Yesterday time was spend, tomorrow time will be spent, today grasp it with both hands. Ts

Today this moment of time is precious if you make it so.Ts

I like the time it always returns.Ts

Time heals, but just skin deep.Ts

Tempus anima rei

Time is the soul of things.

©Photo/Text Ts /Titania's Pellucidity

 I sit beside the fire and think 

Of all that I have seen

Of meadow flowers and butterflies

In summers that have been

Of yellow leaves and gossamer

In autumns that there were

With morning mist and silver sun

And wind upon my hair

I sit beside the fire and think

Of how the world will be

When winter comes without a spring 

That I shall ever see

For still there are so many things

That I have never seen

In every wood in every spring

There is a different green

I sit beside the fire and think

Of people long ago

And people that will see a world

That I shall never know

But all the while I sit and think

Of times there were before

I listen for returning feet 

And voices at the door” 

J.R.R. Tolkien

Thank you dear J.R.R. Tolkien for your beautiful poetry.

Wild rose/ my garden/