#scalinate

[reporter42]

Su e giù per le scalinate. #street #streetphotography #streetlife #streetstyle #stairs #scalinate #laspezia #analogic #film #pellicola (presso La Spezia, Italy) https://www.instagram.com/p/ClBUx0AtIo5/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#street #streetphotography #streetlife #streetstyle #stairs #scalinate #laspezia #analogic #film #pellicola

[francesco-scanagatta]

#scalinata #scalinate https://www.instagram.com/p/ChS5L4yr7dj/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#scalinata #scalinate

[jennywilbury]

#sister rosetta tharpe #rva #Noah Scalin

[mondonguita]

#scalin #lionel scaloni #la scaloneta #Argentina #2022 world cup #amor puro y eterno #amor absoluto y eterno #looove #my heart 😭❤️ #keepsake meme #memes

[foolishfera]

if symmetry is so fucking cool then explain this

#scaline #triangle #the scaline triangle #stop showing mirrors to shapes to make them conform to your symmetronormalist standards of beauty

[decayedgender]

OCEAN THEMED PRONOUNS ─ ꒱ ocean/oceans ﹒ sea/sea ﹒ deep/deeps ﹒ mari/marine ﹒ creep/creeps ﹒ scar/scary ﹒ beauti/beautiful ﹒ coral/corals ﹒ tide/tides ﹒ shell/shells ﹒ fish/fish ﹒ coral/reef ﹒ jelly/fish ﹒ jel/jelly/jellyfish ﹒ kelp/kelps ﹒ whale/whales ﹒ killer/whale ﹒ lob/lobser ﹒ sting/ray ﹒ ray/ray ﹒ shark/sharks ﹒ orc/orca ﹒ orca/orcas ﹒ star/fish ﹒ starfish/starfish ﹒ prawn/prawn ﹒ shrimp/shrimps ﹒ squi/squid ﹒ octo/octopus ﹒ tusnami/tsunamis ﹒ tide/pool ﹒ tidepool/tidepools ﹒ whale/shark ﹒ unknow/unknown ﹒ ?/? ﹒ cold/colds ﹒ warm/warms ﹒ bea/beach ﹒ beach/beach ﹒ curr/current ﹒ current/current ﹒ blue/sea ﹒ water/waters ﹒ sea/weed ﹒ seaweed ﹒ plant/plants ﹒ reef/reefs ﹒ giant/squid ﹒ giantsquid/giantsquids ﹒ turtle/turtles ﹒ turt/turtle ﹒ cliff/cliffs ﹒ coast/coastal ﹒ drift/drifts ﹒ in/land ﹒ inland/inlands ﹒ tidal/wave ﹒ wave/waves ﹒ ship/ships ﹒ boa/boats ﹒ 🐬/🐬's ﹒ 🌊/🌊's ﹒ 🐚/🐚's ﹒ 🐳/🐳's ﹒ 🏖️/🏖️'s ﹒ 🐙/🐙's ﹒ 🦑/🦑's ﹒ 🐟/🐟's ﹒ 🦀/🦀's ﹒ ⚓/⚓'s . . .

OCEAN THEMED TITLES ─ ꒱ being who lives in the ocean ﹒ ocean lurker﹒ the deep dark one ﹒ the oceans tides ﹒ the water breather ﹒ the one who swims ﹒ [ pronoun ] who swims ﹒ [ pronoun ] who is scaled ﹒ [ pronoun ] who drifts ﹒ the giant one ﹒ unknown being ﹒ one who is shrouded in mystery ﹒ being who rides waves ﹒ [ pronoun ] who lives in reefs ﹒ keeper of the ocean ﹒ keeper of the reefs ﹒ being who is seen from the coast ﹒ the one who exists in the blue . . .

OCEAN THEMED NAMES ─ ꒱ oceanetta ﹒ oceaniette ﹒ oceanietta ﹒ oceanine ﹒ maria ﹒ marinettia ﹒ fwish ﹒ whalette ﹒ walenia ﹒ walen ﹒ fisha ﹒ marinea ﹒ oceaitta ﹒ squitta ﹒ squidette ﹒ octoitta ﹒ octohle ﹒ barocen ﹒ vansea ﹒ waveia ﹒ shelle ﹒ shelle ﹒ scalin ﹒ seain ﹒ oceanipha ﹒ seaipa ﹒ merine ﹒ ozen ﹒ watine ﹒ vesipha ﹒ mereine ﹒ mereina ﹒ maretta . . .

#pronoun suggestions #pronoun list #neopronouns #neopronoun list #title list #title suggestion #name suggestions #name list #[ 🖊️ guess who got bored and made some lists randomly ] #← it was valkerine

[clo-rofilla]

Amo la nostra casa sul lago, che abbiamo ampliato, progettato, ristrutturato come un lungo capolavoro di sudore e sogni, e amo queste montagne che abbracciano il Lario e ci si specchiano dentro, e adesso anche il cane, un altro tassello del puzzle che mi sedimenta qui, ma -

A volte Parigi mi manca come un pugno in pancia che ti mozza il respiro.

E quelle volte lì, quando fa più male, non mi manca affatto per la vita patinata, i ristoranti, il fois gras o le vetrine sugli Champs Élysées. Mi mancano i tetti azzurri, le scale a chiocciola interminabili, i vecchi palazzi dalle corti fatiscenti e gli studió col parquet che scricchiola, tutto storto. Le strade bagnate dallo scolo dell'acqua sporca al mattino presto, il freddo di febbraio che ti sferza il viso. Mi mancano i metró strapieni delll'ora di punta, trasportare la spesa su a casa e girare le chiavi nella toppa, varie rampe di scale dopo, accaldata e col fiatone nella mia pelliccia nera. I bistrò affollati; i camerieri col grembiule che fumano une petite clope fuori da quei bistrò. Il parco di Buttes Chaumont gremito di mamme che chiacchierano e bambini col pallone, di ragazzi e ragazze con baguette e vino, sdraiati come lucertole al sole quando arriva la bella stagione. Le pantegane di notte sul bordo della Senna. Le coppie di notte sui ponti sulla Senna. La canicule insopportabile di agosto. Il profumo della boulangerie all"angolo sotto casa - sotto tutte quelle case che ho chiamato chez moi, e ognuna di esse. I signori col completo e le scarpe stringate a punta che sfrecciano a lavoro in vélo. L'attrazione libertina per le donne di questa città, struccate, spregiudicate, rumorose, autentiche, di loro stesse e di nessun altro. Le scalinate del sacro cuore al tramonto quando il cielo di marzo si tinge di rosa e di azzurro prima dell'imbrunire. Quel senso pulsante di libertà.

#la mia vita lì #mon paris

[sciatu]

TAORMINA - PASSEGGIANDO

Nessun poeta può scrivere una poesia su Taormina perché Taormina è già poesia nel suo essere cielo e mare nella luce che la veste nella sua infinita primavera nei mille colori che l’accendono nel suo solare abbraccio perché qui nessun cuore può essere straniero o triste o vestirsi di malinconia o non credere nei sogni mentre parla con il mare dai suoi balconi fioriti da quel gradino del paradiso che è la sua piazza luminosa. Nessuno a Taormina può negare la bellezza o ignorare la felicità o non amare la vita. Perché Taormina è la luce del giorno è i versi di una tragedia nel teatro sospeso sul mare è il fascino dei palazzi medievali arrossati dal sole al tramonto Taormina è il sorriso delle sue bellissime donne è le lingue del mondo che qui trovano casa. Taormina è i suoi vicoli il verde ed i fiori che la vestono è il profumo dei suoi ristoranti l’ironia, la gioia delle scalinate il suo essere nobile e casta sensuale e provocante, sorella e amante ricca e generosa silenzio e musica. Taormina è abbracciare il nord è il lungo sereno viale che vive da levante a ponente è il suo volto rivolto a sud è il centro di tre mari lo specchio di sette cieli il tempo che si ferma la vita che scivola felice su i suoi antichi palazzi. Taormina è il crocevia di ogni poesia d’amore è le stelle d’agosto con cui le sue luci si confondono felici è il sospiro di amanti e poeti è la luna che la veste d’argento le nubi che la sfiorano la serenità che la culla il vento che l’accarezza. Taormina è il bello racchiuso nella sua profumata, antica multicolore, immensa, elegante anima mediterranea

TAORMINA - WALKING: No poet can write a poem about Taormina, because Taormina is already poetry, in its being sky and sea, in the light that dresses it, in its infinite spring, in the thousand colors that light it up in its sunny embrace because here no heart can be foreign or sad, or dress in melancholy, or not believe in dreams, while it speaks with the sea, from its flowered balconies, from that step of paradise, which is its luminous square. No one in Taormina can deny beauty, or ignore happiness, or not love life. Because Taormina is the light of day, it is the verses of a tragedy, in the theater suspended over the sea, it is the charm of the medieval buildings, reddened by the setting sun, Taormina is the smile of its beautiful women it is the languages of the world, which find a home here. Taormina is its alleys, the greenery and flowers that dress it, it is the scent of its restaurants, the irony, the joy of the stairways, its being noble and chaste, sensual and provocative, sister and lover, rich and generous silence and music. Taormina is embracing the north, it is the long serene avenue, which runs from east to west, it is its face facing south, it is the center of three seas the mirror of seven heavens, time that stops, life that slides happily, on its ancient buildings. Taormina is the crossroads of every love poem and the stars of August with which its lights happily merge is the sigh of lovers and poets it is the moon that dresses her in silver, the clouds that touch her, the serenity that cradles her, the wind that caresses her. Taormina is the beauty contained in its fragrant, ancient, multicoloured, immense, elegant Mediterranean soul

#sciatu #taormina #sicilia #art #messina #poetry #sicily

[bumblebeeappletree]

Air pollution kills millions each year, especially in the world’s megacities. But we found some surprising news: In many places, it’s actually getting better! Here’s how megacities around the world are already making their air cleaner and safer. 

#planeta #smog #airpollution

We're destroying our environment at an alarming rate. But it doesn't need to be this way. Our new channel Planet A explores the shift towards an eco-friendly world — and challenges our ideas about what dealing with climate change means. We look at the big and the small: What we can do and how the system needs to change. Every Friday we'll take a truly global look at how to get us out of this mess.

Credits:

Author: Kira Schacht

Video Editor: Frederik Willmann

Supervising Editor: Kiyo Dörrer

Fact-check: Kirsten Funck 

With thanks for interviews (included and not):

Rafay Alam:

/ rafay_alam

Zoe Chafe: https://www.c40.org/our-team/zoe-chafe/

Sophie Gumy, Technical Officer at WHO's Department of Environment, Climate Change and Health

Frank Hammes, IQAir: https://www.iqair.com/

Bhavreen Kandhari:

/ bhavreen-kandhari-8028...

Abid Omar:

/ abidomar

Read more:

WHO Ambient (outdoor) air pollution:

https://www.who.int/news-room/fact-sh...

C40 – Air quality:

https://www.c40.org/what-we-do/scalin...

Pakistan Air Quality Initiative:

/ pakairquality

Chapters:

00:00 Intro

00:46 The problem

01:31 Our analysis

02:00 The causes

02:36 Transport

04:04 Industry

04:45 Waste

05:39 Energy

07:12 What now

09:46 Outro

#dw planet a #solarpunk #air pollution #smog #lung health #air quality #air health #health #fossil fuels #car exhaust #electric vehicles #ev #electric car #bicycle #foot traffic #Youtube #waste management #clean energy #green energy

[theformerbastard]

• I don't mean to sound like the little kid whinin' about how his sister crossed the imaginary line he drew in the backseat but why in the name of Zeus's butthole do people always seem to park right beside me when there are dozens of empty spots around?

• My customer the other day was so goddamn sweet. I won't bore you with the whole story but when I told her that Enterprise called to tell me they didn't have a car for me she was like "I am not leaving here until you have a car" and, sure enough, she stayed until she saw me get into a car. I wish I'd met her a different way. That's another downside to this job that I hadn't quite prepared myself for: I've met a few people that I've thought I hit it off with but it feels unprofessional/creepy to be like "I wanna be your friend!" So I just give em their keys and accept that I'll likely never see em again.

• Your disposition is more important than your position. Jimmy Carr brought that up more than once in an interview I listened to today. The whole interview gave me a lot to think about, but I especially loved that.

• I was kinda gettin' excited about wakin' up to flannel weather in the midwest but now I'm headin' to Phoenix where they haven't gotten word that it's Fall yet. Weak.

• I saw this dumb thing on instagram the other day that I've let occupy more of my thoughts than I care to admit. I keep tryin' to write it out but I can't quite get the words right. The gist is that I see fragile men moanin' about how men have become feminized but I'm not seein' it anywhere other than on social media. It's like these chicken shit pussies see a picture of Harry Styles in a dress and think that every guy but them dresses that way. I love nail polish and jewelry but I've found myself scalin' back because I don't like callin' too much attention to myself and everywhere *I* go, I see dudes in grunt style shirts with beards that would flip shit if their son wanted pink crocs.

I don't think I'm articulatin' my point as well as I would like. I'm just incredibly fascinated by how we all see this world very differently. I wonder how much of it is based on what we actually see vs. what we see in our phones.

#does that make ANY sense? #what is a horseshoe? #what does a horseshoe do? #are there any horse socks? #is anyone listening to me?

[1-ufo]

Anybody else here in muse tumblr around when people were posting pics of all of Matt’s gig boners like there was a legit collection of them.

And how it happened to occur at the same time as the scaline triangle meme was big

And so there were Matt’s gig boners with a scaline triangle drawn over them and the caption “ahh the scaline triangle” memes everywhere because

I remember that

I remember a time when horny on main was not only practiced regularly but also highly celebrated here in the muse fandom. It was amazingly cringe and yet I look back so fondly at absolute stupidity of memes back then.

#and if anyone somehow still has access to those posts from back then #I would love to see them again

[sweetearthandnorthernsky]

He had become enamoured of Gwindeth and Lake Nenuial, and chose to remain behind. listening: spotify, youtube

run river run - run river run / out of dreams, into the sun / wake river wake / there's fire coursing through your blood

trees - climbin' trees / like we did when we were children / scalin' walls / the walls that took us years to build

to be young - oh, it was white sand and deep blue waves / we were running up the shore / sun glints on sparkling faces / i don't feel or see anymore

old friend - old friend come back home / even though you always were alone / you had to push against the fates / just to make it / make it through the gate

brother - i've shared my life with you, brother / since i recall, you've been my friend / you say we're not like the others / still we must die, all things must end

cold is the night - long is the road that leads me home / and longer still when I walk alone / bitter is the thought of all that time / spent searching for something I'll never find

shoulder to shoulder around the fire - and the cities all crumble / brick by brick / while i'm stuck on the top floor / watching it give

collapse - these ancient skies have seen / more than you could ever dream / so watch the world collapse around you / to melt that heart of stone

i hear it in the wind - i hear it in the wind / through the echoes and whispers that come with warning / of old stories and cautionary tales / of a world that's changing

the ghost on the shore - lie where i land let my bones turn to sand / i was born on the lake and i don't want to leave / every eye on the coast ever more / will remember the sight of the ghost on the shore

#hello i did a thing #my fic #(not really but for tagging purposes--) #og post

[art-for-our-love]

More Scalin

#oc #splatoon

[scorcidipoesia]

Un treno corre nella notte. Attraversa un paese, lo unisce, lo compagina. Dalle mura di antichi castelli circondati di uliveti, fonti e scalinate, a una città del nord fredda, con pochi colori e molte persone che camminano su marciapiedi disegnando mondi ed etnie. Il treno attraversa colli, città, profumi nell’aria, venti. Una foglia lotta sulla rotaia e si stacca a metà viaggio finendo al centro, il treno continua a correre perché c’è una stazione che lo aspetta. Una stazione molto bella. Antica. Bianca. I grattacieli della città fredda si affacciano sui passeggeri che scendono, si alzano il bavero del giubbotto e si sistemano la sciarpa. Salgono sui taxi e vanno verso i loro appuntamenti, impegni di lavoro, riunioni. Sono già parte della città appena arrivano.

Una donna in auto cerca di districarsi nella circonvallazione. Nel freddo ha abbondato di rossetto e di profumo, perché attende un uomo che arrivi a portarle il mondo. Nei palmi delle mani , un tripudio di colori. Nella voce, un mappamondo di parole.

Si è alzato un vento di inverno sulla città, ha spazzato le nuvole e un azzurro insolito fa capolino sopra i monumenti che finalmente brillano, svelandosi maestosi anche agli abitanti.

È l’inverno che si annuncia, è l’inizio di una settimana importante in cui le sue sorti cambieranno, le sue radici saranno spazzate via e le occorrerà cercarne altre . Perché ‘il luogo migliore è quello in cui devi ancora andare’.

Ha passato tutta la notte a tremare, con le dita dentro la barba di lui in allucinazioni reali, si è sentita viva e con il cuore impazzito. La mente ha iniziato un viaggio, quell’uomo è sceso dal treno, ci sarà uno sguardo, e da quello sguardo potrà nascere un’opera d’arte. Qualsiasi forma avrà quell’opera, sarà un regalo, sarà una forma di gratitudine che lei terrà nel cuore per molto tempo e lui sorriderà, risalendo sul suo treno, verso la sua città tra gli ulivi, tra le sue opere e i profumi della terra. Tatiana Andena

[updates-from-po-town]

Hey u got a plan to actually reach the castle? Last time I went there it was a hell of a climb.

@touya-san

woah wait climb? whadda ya mean climb? like are we talkin a hike or are we scalin cliffs and shit??

#pokeblogging #pokemon irl #pkmn irl #irl pokemon #irl pkmn #answered asks #the gang goes to unova!

[la-novellista]

Non importava quante piazze ci sarebbero state in seguito, quante statue, scalinate, chiese, dipinti o palazzi straordinari ci avrebbero atteso alla fine di quel buio; quel suo sorriso sarebbe stato sempre una bestemmia urlata in faccia a Dio, o all’arte, e niente avrebbe mai potuto essere più bello.

-Rossana Soldano

#citazione #Book #letture