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moonsoakedcottage
1 year ago
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"𝙞𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 ð™―ðšŠðšðšžðš›ðšŽ 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚃𝚛𝚞𝚎 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚛."

ð™ū𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 ð™ļ 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚕ðšĒ 𝙞𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 ð™―ðšŠðšðšžðš›ðšŽ 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚖𝚎, 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊ðšĒ𝚜. 𝙰 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚖ðšĒ 𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚞𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚜 𝚖ðšĒ 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛ðšĒ 𝚍𝚊ðšĒ. 𝚂𝚎𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 - 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 ð™ŋ𝚒𝚐𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 ð™đ𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 ð™ąðšŠðš‹ðš‹ðš•ðšŽðš›ðšœ, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 ð™ē𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚗ðšĒ 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜ðšĒ𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 - 𝚝𝚑𝚎ðšĒ 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎, 𝚓𝚘𝚕𝚕ðšĒ 𝚊𝚗𝚍 ðšĒ𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎ðšĒ 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖ðšĒ 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖ðšĒ𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚛𝚊ðšĒ𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖, 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎. ð™ļ 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚝𝚘 ð™ķ𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 ðšŽðšĄðš™ðšŽðš›ðš’ðšŽðš—ðšŒðšŽ 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 - 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝙞𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 ð™―ðšŠðšðšžðš›ðšŽ'𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝ðšĒ, 𝚊𝚜 ð™ļ 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚍𝚊ðšĒ.

- 𝙰 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚖ðšĒ 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍

✧˖°.ðŸ—ï―Ą

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moonsoakedcottage
1 year ago

𝐓ðŦ𝐚ðĒ𝐧 ð“ðĄðžðŦ𝐚ðĐðē ⋆𐙚₊˚âŠđ♡

ðŸš‚ï―ĄðŸš‹ï―ĄðŸš‹ï―ĄðŸš‹ï―ĄðŸš‹Ë™âŠđ⁚. ⋆.˚âœŪ🎧âœŪ˚.⋆

𝐈ðĶ𝐚𝐠ðĒ𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐚ðĪðĒ𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐜ðĻðĶ𝐟ðĻðŦ𝐭𝐚𝐛ðĨ𝐞 ðŦðĒ𝐝𝐞 ðĒ𝐧 ð­ðĄðž 𝐭ðŦ𝐚ðĒ𝐧 ðĻ𝐧 ðĻ𝐧𝐞 ðĻ𝐟 ð­ðĄðĻ𝐎𝐞 𝐛ðŦðĒ𝐎ðĪðĨðē 𝐜ðĻðĻðĨ 𝐚ðŪ𝐭ðŪðĶ𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞ðŦ𝐧ðĻðĻ𝐧𝐎, 𝐰ðĒð­ðĄ 𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐧ðĒ𝐜 ðĨ𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐎𝐜𝐚ðĐ𝐞𝐎 ð°ðĄðĒðģðģðĒ𝐧𝐠 ðĐ𝐚𝐎𝐭 ðĻðŪ𝐭𝐎ðĒ𝐝𝐞 ð­ðĄðž 𝐰ðĒ𝐧𝐝ðĻ𝐰ðĐ𝐚𝐧𝐞. 𝐘ðĻðŪ 𝐚ðŦ𝐞 𝐎𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ðĒ𝐧 𝐚 ðĐðĨðŪðŽðĄ ðœðĄðšðĒðŦ 𝐛𝐞𝐎ðĒ𝐝𝐞 ð­ðĄðž 𝐰ðĒ𝐧𝐝ðĻ𝐰 𝐰ðĒð­ðĄ 𝐚 𝐰𝐚ðŦðĶ 𝐛ðĨ𝐚𝐧ðĪ𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 ðĐðĒðĐðĒ𝐧𝐠 ðĄðĻ𝐭 𝐜ðŪðĐ ðĻ𝐟 ðēðĻðŪðŦ 𝐟𝐚ðŊðĻðŦðĒ𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐚 ‧ð“ĒÖīāŧ‹â˜• Ũ‚ 𓈒 ⋆ ÛŠ ðĻðŦ 𝐜ðĻ𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 ðĒ𝐧 ðĄðšð§ð. ð“ðĄðž ðŦðĻðĨðĨðĒ𝐧𝐠 ðĄðĒðĨðĨ𝐎 ðĻðŪ𝐭𝐎ðĒ𝐝𝐞, 𝐝ðŦ𝐞𝐎𝐎𝐞𝐝 ðĒ𝐧 ðŽðĄðšððžðŽ ðĻ𝐟 𝐚ðĶ𝐛𝐞ðŦ 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠ðĻðĨ𝐝, ðē𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞ðŦ 𝐜ðĨðŪ𝐎𝐭𝐞ðŦ𝐎 ðĻ𝐟 𝐛ðŦðĒð ðĄð­ 𝐭ðŦ𝐞𝐞𝐎 ðĒ𝐧 𝐟ðŪðĨðĨ 𝐚ðŪ𝐭ðŪðĶ𝐧𝐚ðĨ 𝐛ðĨðĻðĻðĶ. ð“ðĄðž ðŦðĄðēð­ðĄðĶðĒ𝐜 ðœðĄðŪ𝐠 ðĻ𝐟 ð­ðĄðž 𝐭ðŦ𝐚ðĒ𝐧 ðĶ𝐚ðĪ𝐞𝐎 𝐟ðĻðŦ 𝐚 𝐎ðĻðĻð­ðĄðĒ𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜ðĪ𝐠ðŦðĻðŪ𝐧𝐝 ðĶ𝐞ðĨðĻ𝐝ðē, ðĻ𝐜𝐜𝐚𝐎ðĒðĻ𝐧𝐚ðĨðĨðē ðĐðŪ𝐧𝐜𝐭ðŪ𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛ðē ð­ðĄðž 𝐟𝐚ðŦ-ðĻ𝐟𝐟 ð°ðĄðĒ𝐎𝐭ðĨ𝐞 ðžðœðĄðĻðĒ𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐜ðŦðĻ𝐎𝐎 ð­ðĄðž ðŊ𝐚ðĨðĨ𝐞ðē. 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭ðĨ𝐞 𝐎ðŪ𝐧ðĨðĒð ðĄð­ 𝐟ðĒðĨ𝐭𝐞ðŦ𝐎 ð­ðĄðŦðĻðŪð ðĄ ð­ðĄðž 𝐜ðŪðŦ𝐭𝐚ðĒ𝐧𝐎 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐎𝐭𝐎 𝐚 𝐎ðĻ𝐟𝐭, 𝐰𝐚ðŦðĶ ðĨðĒð ðĄð­ ðĒ𝐧𝐎ðĒ𝐝𝐞 ð­ðĄðž 𝐜𝐚ðŦðŦðĒ𝐚𝐠𝐞. 𝐄ðŊ𝐞ðŦðēð­ðĄðĒ𝐧𝐠 ðĒ𝐎 ðĐ𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐟ðŪðĨ ðĒ𝐧 ð­ðĄðž 𝐜𝐚ðŦðŦðĒ𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 ð­ðĄðž ðĐ𝐞ðĻðĐðĨ𝐞 ðŪ𝐧𝐰ðĒ𝐧𝐝 𝐭ðĻ ðĨ𝐞𝐭 ð­ðĄðžðĶ𝐎𝐞ðĨðŊ𝐞𝐎 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐞ðŊðĻðŪðŦ𝐞𝐝 𝐛ðē ð­ðĄðž ðĢðĻðŪðŦ𝐧𝐞ðē. ð“ðĄðž 𝐭ðŦ𝐚ðĒ𝐧 ðĐ𝐚𝐎𝐎𝐞𝐎 𝐛ðē ðŊðĒðĨðĨ𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐎 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐎ðĶ𝐚ðĨðĨ 𝐭ðĻ𝐰𝐧𝐎, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰ðĒð­ðĄ 𝐞ðŊ𝐞ðŦðē 𝐎𝐭𝐚𝐭ðĒðĻ𝐧, ðĒ𝐭 𝐎ðĨðĻ𝐰𝐎 𝐝ðĻ𝐰𝐧, ð­ðĄðŦðĻðŪð ðĄ ð­ðĄðž 𝐰ðĒ𝐧𝐝ðĻ𝐰 𝐠ðĒðŊðĒ𝐧𝐠 𝐚 ðŊðĒ𝐞𝐰 𝐭ðĻ ðĨðĻ𝐜𝐚ðĨ ðĨðĒ𝐟𝐞: ðœðĄðĒðĨ𝐝ðŦ𝐞𝐧 ðĐðĨ𝐚ðēðĒ𝐧𝐠 ðĒ𝐧 𝐠𝐚ðŦ𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐎, 𝐟𝐚ðŦðĶ𝐞ðŦ𝐎 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝ðĒ𝐧𝐠 𝐭ðĻ ð­ðĄðžðĒðŦ 𝐟ðĒ𝐞ðĨ𝐝𝐎, ðĻðŦ ðĢðŪ𝐎𝐭 𝐞ðĨ𝐝𝐞ðŦðĨðē 𝐜ðĻðŪðĐðĨ𝐞𝐎 ðœðĄðšð­ð­ðĒ𝐧𝐠 ðĻ𝐧 ð›ðžð§ðœðĄðžðŽ. 𝐌ðĻðŦ𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 ðĶðĻðŦ𝐞 ðžð§ðœðĄðšð§ð­ðĶ𝐞𝐧𝐭 ðĻ𝐟 ð­ðĄðž ðŦðĒ𝐝𝐞 𝐛ðĨðĻðĻðĶ𝐎 𝐚𝐭 ðžðšðœðĄ 𝐎𝐭ðĻðĐ, ðŦ𝐞ðĶðĒ𝐧𝐝ðĒ𝐧𝐠 ðĻ𝐧𝐞 ðĻ𝐟 ð­ðĄðž 𝐝ðĒ𝐟𝐟𝐞ðŦ𝐞𝐧𝐭 ðĐ𝐚𝐜𝐞 ðĻ𝐟 ðĨðĒ𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚ðē 𝐟ðŦðĻðĶ ð­ðĄðž ðŦðŪðŽðĄ ♡₊˚ ðŸĶĒãƒŧâ‚Šâœ§â‹†â­’Ëšï―Ąâ‹†. 𝐈𝐧𝐎ðĒ𝐝𝐞, ðĒ𝐭 ðĒ𝐎 𝐰𝐚ðŦðĶ, 𝐛ðŪ𝐭 𝐧ðĻ𝐭 ðĄðĻ𝐭. 𝐌ðŪðŦðĶðŪðŦ𝐎 ðĻ𝐟 ðĐ𝐞ðĻðĐðĨ𝐞 𝐭𝐚ðĨðĪðĒ𝐧𝐠 𝐛ðĨ𝐞𝐧𝐝 ðĒ𝐧 𝐰ðĒð­ðĄ ðŦðŪ𝐎𝐭ðĨðĒ𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐎ðĐ𝐚ðĐ𝐞ðŦ𝐎 ðĻðŦ, 𝐟ðŦðĻðĶ 𝐭ðĒðĶ𝐞 𝐭ðĻ 𝐭ðĒðĶ𝐞, 𝐭ðŪðŦ𝐧ðĒ𝐧𝐠 ðĐ𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐎 ðĒ𝐧 𝐚 𝐛ðĻðĻðĪ. 𝐒ðĻðĶ𝐞 ðĐ𝐚𝐎𝐎𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞ðŦ𝐎 𝐎ðĒ𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 ðœðĄðšð­ 𝐊ðŪðĒ𝐞𝐭ðĨðē ð°ðĄðĒðĨ𝐞 ðĻð­ðĄðžðŦ𝐎 𝐭𝐚ðĪ𝐞 𝐚 ðŦðšð­ðĄðžðŦ 𝐭ðŦ𝐚𝐧𝐊ðŪðĒðĨ ðŊðĒ𝐞𝐰 ðĻ𝐟 ð­ðĄðž 𝐜ðĻðŪ𝐧𝐭ðŦðē𝐎ðĒ𝐝𝐞. 𝐀𝐎 ð­ðĄðž 𝐭ðŦ𝐚ðĒ𝐧 ðœðĄðŪ𝐠𝐎 𝐚ðĨðĻ𝐧𝐠 ð­ðĄðĒ𝐎 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭ðĨ𝐞 ðĢðĻðŪðŦ𝐧𝐞ðē, ðēðĻðŪ 𝐝ðĻ 𝐟𝐞𝐞ðĨ 𝐊ðŪðĒ𝐭𝐞 ðŦ𝐞ðĶðĻðŊ𝐞𝐝 𝐟ðŦðĻðĶ ð­ðĄðž ðĻðŪ𝐭𝐎ðĒ𝐝𝐞 𝐰ðĻðŦðĨ𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐧 ðŊ𝐞ðŦðē 𝐞𝐚𝐎ðĒðĨðē 𝐞𝐧ðŊ𝐞ðĨðĻðĐ𝐞 ðēðĻðŪðŦ𝐎𝐞ðĨ𝐟 ðĒ𝐧 ð­ðĄðž 𝐜ðĻ𝐜ðĻðĻ𝐧 ðĻ𝐟 𝐜ðĻðĶ𝐟ðĻðŦ𝐭 ð­ðĄðšð­ 𝐎ðŪðœðĄ 𝐚 ðĢðĻðŪðŦ𝐧𝐞ðē 𝐛ðŦðĒ𝐧𝐠𝐎. 𝐈𝐭 ðĒ𝐎 ðĻ𝐧𝐞 𝐟ðĻðŦ ðŦ𝐞ðĨðšðąðšð­ðĒðĻ𝐧, 𝐭𝐚ðĪðĒ𝐧𝐠 ðĒ𝐧 ð­ðĄðž 𝐎ðĒðĶðĐðĨ𝐞 𝐛ðĒ𝐭𝐎 𝐚𝐛ðĻðŪ𝐭 𝐭ðŦ𝐚ðŊ𝐞ðĨ, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚ðĐðĐðŦ𝐞𝐜ðĒ𝐚𝐭ðĒðĻ𝐧 ðĻ𝐟 𝐟ðĨ𝐞𝐞𝐭ðĒ𝐧𝐠 ðĨðĻðŊ𝐞ðĨðĒ𝐧𝐞𝐎𝐎 ðĒ𝐧 ð­ðĄðĒ𝐎 𝐭ðĒðĶ𝐞 ðĻ𝐟 ð­ðĄðž ðē𝐞𝐚ðŦ. ð“ðĄðĒ𝐎 ðĨðĒ𝐭𝐭ðĨ𝐞 𝐭ðŦ𝐚ðĒ𝐧 ðŦðĒ𝐝𝐞 ðĒ𝐎 ðĨðĒðĪ𝐞 𝐭ðĒðĶ𝐞 𝐚ðĨðĶðĻ𝐎𝐭 𝐎𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝ðĒ𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐭ðĒðĨðĨ, 𝐎ðĻ ðēðĻðŪ 𝐰ðĒðĨðĨ ðĄðšðŊ𝐞 𝐞𝐧ðĻðŪð ðĄ 𝐭ðĒðĶ𝐞 𝐭ðĻ 𝐝ðĒ𝐠𝐞𝐎𝐭 ð­ðĄðž 𝐎𝐞ðŦ𝐞𝐧ðĒ𝐭ðē 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰ðĻ𝐧𝐝𝐞ðŦ ðĻ𝐟 ð­ðĄðž ðžðąðĐ𝐞ðŦðĒ𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. 𝐈𝐭 ðĒ𝐎 𝐧ðĻ𝐭 𝐚 ðĢðĻðŪðŦ𝐧𝐞ðē 𝐟ðŦðĻðĶ ðĐðĨ𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭ðĻ ðĐðĨ𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐛ðŪ𝐭 ðĻ𝐟 ð­ðĄðž 𝐎ðĻðŪðĨ, 𝐞𝐧ðŦðĒðœðĄðĒ𝐧𝐠 ðĒ𝐭𝐎𝐞ðĨ𝐟 𝐰ðĒð­ðĄ 𝐎ðĒð ðĄð­ðŽ, 𝐎ðĻðŪ𝐧𝐝𝐎, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐞𝐧𝐎𝐚𝐭ðĒðĻ𝐧𝐎 𓂃 āĢŠË– ÖīÖķÖļ 𓈈˚˖ð“ĒÖīāŧ‹`ðŸŒŋ:✧˚.📷⋆𖧧.

==🚂🚃🚃🚃====

🚂 𝐀ðĨðĨ ð­ðĄðž 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐎 𝐚ðŦ𝐞 𝐟ðŦðĻðĶ 𝐆ðĻðĻ𝐠ðĨ𝐞 🚂

── .âœĶ

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moonsoakedcottage
1 year ago

â‹†ï―ĄïūŸâ˜ïļŽï―Ąâ‹†ï―Ą ïūŸâ˜ū ïūŸï―Ąâ‹†

áĻ’↟ Longing the Mountains áĻ’â†ŸÂ â‹†ï―ĄÂ°

August 21, 2024 Wednesday 🧚ðŸŧ‍♀ïļâ˜ū⋆˚˖° Dear Reader, To me, the mountains always feel homely wherever I am. They are my home in my heart. A home which feels as warm as a hug and as comforting as a touch that tells me everything will be alright. The mountains always teach me something new. It is this special connection for which the hills keep me alive. An invisible thread that makes me beholden to those bewitching hills binds us together. The foggy thickets in hilly regions pull me towards themselves as if they are drawing me home. I will always go back home - the place where I belong truly, not the chaos of city life, but the slow and serene life in the mountains. My soul feels hollow, whenever I am not in the mountains. My life seems to move aimlessly and my thoughts are always swirling around in my head, looking for a home, very far away from home, a home away from home, but still not being able to find the way back home. When is it time for me to go back home! Will I be going back home!? Once more, when can I come back? â‹†ï―ĄÂ°áĻ’↟↟áĻ’↟áĻ’↟↟áĻ’⋆˚

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