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a few pages from the 19th century diary of miss elizabeth aveling. i don’t know who she was or where she was from, but holding her diary of sketches and daydreams was transcendent. 

life in a bookshop, no. 20 photo by celeste noche

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Leaf/tree identification guide by Nutt & Stevens Ltd., Leicester, England

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“Is it the sea you hear in me, Its dissatisfactions?”

— Sylvia Plath, from Ariel; “Elm”

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“He who returns has never left.”

— Pablo Neruda, “Adioses”

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pan’s labyrinth (2006)

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the magick of acorns

acorns are a cute, perfectly-sized magick charm to carry in your pocket. they represent the energy of the beautiful oak tree, which has long-held associations with strength, endurance, courage, generosity and honesty. for this reason, it has “kingly” attributes; it’s said that king arthur’s round table was made from a cross-section of a big elder oak tree’s trunk.

each acorn on the oak tree is believed to have its very own faerie watching over it. keep this in mind before you pluck an acorn from its tree; when harvesting acorns, it’s best to forage for fallen ones so as not to bring about fae mischief.

☾ using acorns as charms

carry an acorn in your pocket for health, abundance, prosperity and luck.

plant an acorn in your garden under a full moon to cultivate happiness.

use an acorn at your altar to represent the earth element.

wear an acorn around your neck to bring beauty, youth, and protection.

place an acorn in your purse or wallet to attract financial security.

an acorn at your desk inspires patience and long-term success.

☾ a simple acorn spell for strength during hardships

light a red candle, which represents strength, survival and endurance. hold an acorn in your hands and look at the flame, meditating on the hardships you’re going through and your wishes to overcome them. remind yourself that you are strong and resilient. visualize the end to the situation. warm the acorn over the candleflame, kiss the acorn, and place it under your pillow.

☾ kitchen witchcraft: acorn maple shortbread cookies

these cookies are delicious and rustic, celebrating the oak and maple trees. the cookies have powerful spiritual healing properties. here is a recipe for how to make acorn flour, which involves a couple days of labor and requires a food processor. the end product, however, is a delicious dark gluten-free flour that has chestnut flavor notes. for the cookies (makes 12), you will need:

2 sticks unsalted butter, at room temperature (8 ounces)

½ cup sugar

¼ cup maple sugar

½ teaspoon vanilla extract

A pinch of salt

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 cup acorn flour

1. Combine the butter, sugars and vanilla extract in a bowl and whisk together with a fork.

2. Mix the salt and flours together with a whisk in another bowl, then pour the mixture in with the butter/sugar. mix with a fork just enough to make a sticky dough with no butter chunks.

3. shape the dough into a large disk, wedge between parchment paper and freeze for at least two hours, so they maintain their structure in the oven.

4. preheat the oven to 350°F. flatten the dough disk to about ½ inch and use a cookie cutter to cut out the cookies.

5. place the cookies on an ungreased baking sheet and bake for 23-26 minutes (or until the edges are beginning to brown).

☾ an acorn-top faerie offering

to make an offering to nearby fae and good spirits, place a ring of acorn tops on a tree stump, and fill the acorn tops with wine. leave a pile of rose petals in the center of the ring. 

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by Paul Keates on 500px

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The harvest is coming.

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“Barn Owl” by Nigel Pye 

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a collection of the many 17th century timber frame houses seen in one place, some held and created from the trees of ancient forests  

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Red deer in moonlight landscape by Eugen Krüger (German, 1832–1876)

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The Last Words Of Famous Writers

When you’ve dedicated your life to words, it’s important to go out eloquently.

Ernest Hemingway: “Goodnight my kitten.” Spoken to his wife before he killed himself.

Jane Austen: “I want nothing but death.” In response to her sister, Cassandra, who was asking her if she wanted anything.

J.M Barrie: “I can’t sleep.”

L. Frank Baum: “Now I can cross the shifting sands.”

Edgar Allan Poe: “Lord help my poor soul.”

Thomas Hobbes: “I am about to take my last voyage, a great leap into the dark,”

Alfred Jarry: “I am dying…please, bring me a toothpick.”

Hunter S. Thompson: “Relax — this won’t hurt.”

Henrik Ibsen: “On the contrary!”

Anton Chekhov: “I haven’t had champagne for a long time.”

Mark Twain: “Good bye. If we meet—” Spoken to his daughter Clara.

Louisa May Alcott: “Is it not meningitis?” Alcott did not have meningitis, though she believed it to be so. She died from mercury poison.

Jean Cocteau: “Since the day of my birth, my death began its walk. It is walking towards me, without hurrying.”

Washington Irving: “I have to set my pillows one more night, when will this end already?”

Leo Tolstoy: “But the peasants…how do the peasants die?”

Hans Christian Andersen: “Don’t ask me how I am! I understand nothing more.”

Charles Dickens: “On the ground!” He suffered a stroke outside his home and was asking to be laid on the ground.

H.G. Wells: “Go away! I’m all right.” He didn’t know he was dying.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe: “More light.”

W.C. Fields: “Goddamn the whole fucking world and everyone in it except you, Carlotta!” “Carlotta” was Carlotta Monti, actress and his mistress.

Voltaire: “Now, now, my good man, this is no time for making enemies.” When asked by a priest to renounce Satan.

Dylan Thomas: “I’ve had 18 straight whiskies…I think that’s the record.”

George Bernard Shaw: “Dying is easy, comedy is hard.”

Henry David Thoreau: “Moose…Indian.”

James Joyce: “Does nobody understand?”

Oscar Wilde: “Either the wallpaper goes, or I do.” 

Bob Hope: “Surprise me.” He was responding to his wife asking where he wanted to be buried.

Roald Dahl’s last words are commonly believed to be “you know, I’m not frightened. It’s just that I will miss you all so much!” which are the perfect last words. But, after he appeared to fall unconscious, a nurse injected him with morphine to ease his passing. His actual last words were a whispered “ow, fuck”

Salvador Dali hoped his last words would be “I do not believe in my death,” but instead, they were actually, “Where is my clock?”

Emily Dickinson: “I must go in, the fog is rising.”

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“Oh, for the time when I shall sleep ⁠without identity. and never care how rain may steep, ⁠or snow may cover me –”

— Emily Brontë, from The Complete Poems of Emily Brontë; The Philosopher.

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“There is such beauty in discovering what we can do without. The most beautiful gift of this wintertime is ultimately something that is unspeakable; it is only livable. The winter is actually begging you to just let go, and then let go of letting go. Let this natural and spontaneous returning to the root of your own existence happen. Return to that which is not definable.”

— Adyashanti