Poo Patt

I used to jump in cow pats when I was a kid. The news states farmers are looking for pig poo to build high revenues. Words of the such bring me back to childhood memories, walking around fields in Dorset, discovering old roman roads, the smell of grass and jumping in crispy cow patts hardened from the sun. Wellies definitely came in handy!

What sounds can you make with your penis?!

I love nature; it's articles like this which make you appreciate the wonders of the world even more. I am reminded of my childhood days watching David Attenborough Life Planet series with his soothing voice commenting on the characteristics of each animal featured in a episode.

Walking ways

How do you walk? With your head up straight, looking down at the curb or staring high into space?

Our posture, our presence represents how we feel. Sometimes I stride in long steps, giraffe like and fast. Sometimes the ground seems more interesting then looking at the sky. The sky can be blinding at times.

Spongebob Square...Mushroom?!

This is amazing! A new mushroom has been discovered and because of it's appearance, researchers have named it after the one and only Spongebob Squarepants!

Stop complaining

Lets not complain about the rain when some countries are suffering from drought.

At least we have rain and water. Dance in it.

Brrr...A hopeless battle with nature

As summer begins I think it appropriate to remember winter as well. Often do I hear people say what their favourite season is, majoritively complaining about Britain and the weather conditions-how those wish to move away from it all. I can't help but sigh to myself when I hear these comments, for I see it as waste less energy for something to complain about. Weather is out of our hands and all we can do is prepare ourselves for how we take it. I find it best to remind self in what we appreciate more because of the change in environment. Let nature be nature and take its course, for then we shall follow it and make our own.

'Maybe the discontent that comes to us in winter is in the realization that every moment of joy is but a brief resting point on the greater journey toward oblivion. Or maybe that's too grand. Maybe the discontent in winter is the discontent about the fleeting quality of the present. Nothing holds still for very long, after all. Nothing that feels good stays good for very long. Even in Los Angeles, the perfect sunny day turns to night; a feeling of contentment is replaced by anxiety somewhere along the line.

If there is a greater contentment to be found, then, it is in the contentment of discontent. It is in the willingness, maybe, to have your winters and to have them in their dreariness and decay, neither surrendering completely to that discontent nor pretending to solve it.'