This is one of the most beautiful places in the US, with waterfalls, lakes, rivers and plenty of big mountains to climb.
Mountain Dogwood along the Merced River
One of the two major waterways in the Park is the Merced River, which carries rainwater and snow melt from the high Sierras and drains the southern part of the Park.
How can you not love this view! Just look at the postcard I got. It’s so incredible. It’s heaven, you’ll have to agree with me. Just imaging the wind blowing and the sounds on the river around you, some animals passing by, and the sound of trees waving. It is a paradise for the soul, and I wish I was there to really feel it.
Thank you /u/coolcatjames, for the amazing postcard from Yosemite! I love it!
You! Yes, you! You are beautiful, and don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise!
Ah, this card took a while to come in my hands. It went through an incredible journey until I got it, but I am not even mad. I guess it was its purpose – to remind a lot of people how beautiful they are.
I received this card with a letter inside, where /u/Aleksandria sends the letter again, because instead of coming to me, it went to Canada, in another envelope. I am glad a lot of people had to see it /u/Aleksandria. Because everyone should know how beautiful they are!
Hope you had a lovely Valentine’s Day! I surely did.
And once again, I’m so glad I am a part of the /r/RaOC community on reddit!
Before I start talking about goals in life, what is actually life? When do we know that we live? Does every person live, or some of them just come and go, without ever living?
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We are all born and we all spend our lives here, on Earth. But some of us don’t live their lives. We all pass through the same stages of life, we are all children and we all love to play, and then we just grow up, and we have different aspirations in life, different ideas and opinions, and different goals, of which I’ll speak today.
Does it means that you’ve lived, if you actually live like others tell you? Does it count as living if you never get to do all those stuff that you thought are amazing and special? Do you actually live, if you’re not happy while you’re living?
I don’t think so.
I think a person lives at that moment when he starts achieving his goals. And we all have different goals. Lara, for example, the girl that sent me this postcard, loves bikes and she has a mountain one. But she wants to have a bike that she can actually drive in the city. I want to go and travel the world with my boyfriend, and live in a small cottage around nature and river and a lot of trees and a fireplace in my home, and read lots of books and drink tea. Many people want to have good jobs and families, and live nice, and those are great goals. Some of them want to travel. visit random places, or be popular and earn a lot of money.
And it doesn’t matter what our goals are. What matters in the end, is that we are happy with what we are doing, because then we are happy with our life. Then we truly live. We could live on this planet and do nothing, but where are the benefits of that? Where is the excitement of life and all the adventures we could have? Where is the love, and where is the happiness?
I was looking at this postcard and I though, I want to be a fairy. But something else happened meanwhile…
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I saw my high-school teacher yesterday at the book fair. She told me a story that happened at her class. A girl took a flower, and destroyed it with her pen. She had a bad day, she said. And that was all her explanation. My teacher is just like me. She does care about things that some people find as irrelevant. She cares about what people think and feel, and why they feel that way. What made them think this or that way, and why do they act or don’t act at all.
She is so curious, about our feelings, our thoughts, about life. She asks a lot of questions, and I love having those conversations with her. She was wondering why would someone want to destroy a flower.
Now I am looking at the picture again, and I’m thinking… I don’t want to be a fairy anymore. I want to be a flower.
Yes, I might get destroyed with that pen. Yes, I can’t fly like the fairy has. But I will still be gentle and shy, and beautiful. I will remain untouched by nature, and I will shine. I will give love back when others give me love, and I will smell good. I will be rare, and who knows, maybe I’ll get destroyed faster than the other ones.
And then again, I maybe want to be a fairy too. I don’t even know myself.They both seem so gentle and shy and precious. They both seem to be peaceful and caring, and they both seem to have wings, real or imaginary ones. Either way, I would be spreading love and enjoy life without a worry. Either way, I will be happy.
It reminded me of my travels, of my wandering around the cities. Some cities full of life and people, and some of them quiet and unnoticed. It reminded me how I walk around, looking both sides, and trying to find something in common with all the buildings surrounding me. Trying to find a single clue in the architecture, that will prove me that that country has one way of building things.
It reminds me of my walks in Valbonne, France , where parks are green and people are happy. Where they smile at each other for no reason and they wander around the city every day, for years. It reminds me of the smell of the cheese on the Friday market, the warm baguette and the olives.
It reminds me of the street of Salzburg, Austria, where Mozart’s house is. The ice-cream shop right opposite from that, where they put you more chocolate cream that you ever hoped for. The children running around, with their fingers sticky from the ice-creams they ate.
It reminds me of Genova, Italy, and the Juliet’s balcony. The shop for love stuff right on the corner, and the millions of locks there, reminding me how lucky I am. All the names written on the walls, and all the people kissing each other right there, where the most famous love story happened a long time ago.
And in the end, it reminds me of Skopje, Macedonia, my city, where people are always in hurry, but you can still see some random faces sitting in the park and enjoying life. The taste of the cold beer on a sunny day, and the songs in your head, telling you everything will be okay.
