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- autumn clarity Connection Contemplation Deeper Truth Existentialism Haiku Moment Inner Knowing Inner Life Intuition Knowing memories Moment of Peace Monochrome Mystery Photo Photography Poetry Prose Remembrance Ruminations sentimentalism Silence Spirituality Stillness sub consciousness Uncategorized Visual Poetry Winter Wondering
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Blogs I Follow
- Seeing Things 10,000 Ways
- DoubleU = W
- Walking my path: Mindful wanderings in nature
- Dreams Never End
- The Morning Porch
- AshiAkira's Blog
- Find Your Middle Ground
- Dancing on Frozen Beaver Ponds
- DSH notebook
- Quiet Pilgrim
- In A Spacious Place
- Belinda Broughton
- Bri Bruce Productions
- Virgilio is on a quiet journey...and wondering...
- Ming Thein | Photographer
Author Archives: Virgilio Gavia
Beauty speaks through the crunching sound of dried leaves. Alone and lonely on a long walk, it makes so much sense. I think this is how we fall in love.
Knowing who we are brings us to that soft curve of truth that leads us to the very purpose why we are here on earth. This is more a heart issue.
Raining, cold, and dark. Autumn leaves. Silence. They all are not lies. They just made me realize what truly matters in life. And it goes deep.
The way I understand the mystery of being alive is the way I understand how the ancient cold autumn wind blows.
Sometimes time travels life a floating leaf.
The nerve of silence quivers in the intense longing of the heart and everything is reduced to an expression of tears. And I rediscover compassion, intimacy, and serenity. It is, after all, a contemplative expedition in the depths of my … Continue reading
The backyard, the shadow, the light, dried leaves, the dirt. All are engaged in silence and stillness, in an afternoon of destiny, at the same time, and for a few minutes, I, too, was silent and still, absorbing, internalizing, my … Continue reading
It is achingly beautiful when the golden shaft of sunlight hits the leaves and make them glow that I just stand in silence. And yet it is fleeting and sad.
The beautiful clarity of the early morning like a clear brook in ancient times. There is a quiet insistence in this that ties holiness with beauty. Then the yellow light silently and slowly spreads, glittering the leaves that help unfold … Continue reading