Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light.
ephesians 5:14
Springtime is the land awakening. The March winds are the morning yawn.
:: Lewis Gizzard ::
and i've learned that it's okay that we all love a little differently we all awake some type of wonderful enchantment in each other like the march breezes bring sprays of luscious lilacs to bloom in the most overlooked corners of the town but if you breathe deeply enough you might catch a sigh of summer. 'ello, spring. good to see ya. xx
:: all stills taken with an iPhone {either mine or mum's} with VSCO ::
we don't have civil war reenactments in these parts. no, we re-live an era when farmers were growing fruit for the soldiers in the Great War raging in Europe, Mr. Randolf Hurst was a common face to stumble upon in a crowd, and barn dances - nothing fancy - were the highlight after the week's biddings. families from all over the States, Canada, and Europe came to stake their claim in california's hills, dotted with wildflowers; living and accomplishing business in canvas tents while the houses they would someday call home were being built. this is the story of how we relived a hundred year's worth of history.
||| after the awards ceremony...it was a great thrill and honor to win for my second and final time :) |||
the weather was altogether balmy and autumn-like. dreamy morning sunbeams splashed in little pools on the velvety carpet of grass. octobers had always been good to me with birthday celebrations and disneyland trips, but one of my favorite highlights was always the day we would don on 1900's outfits and reenact an era long gone by. the sleepy morning soon slipped into a rambunctious afternoon. strands of music from the mudskippers band weaved through the crowd; while newies shouted announcements, the anvil pounded from the smithy, and laughter floated amidst the excited guests composed the cacophony of noises. arm in arm with one of my dearest friend, we greeted guests warmly and relished a sarsaparilla at the end of a very long day.
even in another time period, dressed in lace and gloves, i felt at home. and i will miss octobers in cali dearly.
thank you for the best of times, tent city. xx postscript // view more stills from this photographer.
there is triumph announced in the declaration, "I am afraid no longer," but there is so much bravery breathed when someone says simply, "I am afraid." not expecting judgements or relief. simply trusting that the world will stir in recognition at the sound of three simple words. "I am afraid." and to be frightfully honest, I am. I'm afraid. I am afraid you're going to forget me. I'm afraid that we are forgetting each other already. each day steals another one of my precious memories of you. each day steals us farther from who we used to be. I'm afraid of what these years do to us. no matter what we promise aloud, they etch us. they change us. they pull us apart. they mold us. one day, i feel we will meet each other and never breath a hello, we'll be strangers with a lot of memories flashing in our eyes in that brief moment of recognition. each day I hold my breath in anticipation of seeing you again; each day I hold my breath in anxiety wondering how much this year has changed the both of us. "where are you running to?" you may ask now. the sweetest word in the english language is "belonging." and i guess that's where i'm headed. whether or not these stars will always lead me back to you is what i await to discover. xx
