Donner MacRae

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since Jul 26, 2019
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Biography
Honor your roots
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Location: Sherwood Forest
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Recent posts by Donner MacRae

Qua qua
Da diddley qua qua

Which is to say....


Stand and deliver!

4 hours ago
Michael Levy - Improvisation on a Replica of an Ancient Greek Lyre ('Lyre of Apollo')



BOANN - The Elfin Knight (Child Ballad #2)

2 days ago
Vance Joy - Riptide (FlicFlac Edit)



Lions - Girl from the North Country

3 days ago
Neil Diamond - Childsong



Neil Diamond - I Am The Lion

6 days ago
What are some of your favorite scents from around the homestead or that you associate with rural/country life?

I'll start with one of mine:

The still-smoldering remnants of a previous day's stump fire being rained out.
1 week ago
Adam Freeland - We Want Your Soul (Rivonia Toy Piano Remix)

1 week ago
Bon Jovi - Bad Medicine



β€œBon Jovi rocks... On occasion.” - Dean Winchester
2 weeks ago
There was once an animal born into this world, and opening his eyes upon Life, he saw above and about him confining walls, and before him were bars of iron through which came air and light from without; this animal was born in a cage.

Here he grew, and throve in strength and beauty under the care of an invisible protecting hand. Hungering, food was ever at hand. When he thirsted water was brought, and when he felt the need to rest, there was provided a bed of straw upon which to lie; and here he found it good, licking his handsome flanks, to bask in the sun beam that he thought existed but to lighten his home.

Awaking one day from his slothful rest, lo! the door of his cage stood open: accident had opened it. In the corner he crouched, wondering and fearingly. Then slowly did he approach the door, dreading the unaccustomed, and would have closed it, but for such a task his limbs were purposeless. So out the opening he thrust his head, to see the canopy of the sky grow broader, and the world waxing wider.

Back to his corner but not to rest, for the spell of the Unknown was over him, and again and again he goes to the open door, seeing each time more Light.

Then one time standing in the flood of it; a deep in-drawn breath – a bracing of strong limbs, and with a bound he was gone.

On he rushes, in his mad flight, heedless that he is wounding and tearing his sleek sides – seeing, smelling, touching of all things; even stopping to put his lips to the noxious pool, thinking it may be sweet.

Hungering there is no food but such as he must seek and ofttimes fight for; and his limbs are weighted before he reaches the water that is good to his thirsting throat.

So does he live, seeking, finding, joying and suffering. The door which accident had opened is opened still, but the cage remains forever empty!

Emancipation: A Life Fable - Kate Chopin
2 weeks ago
How happy he, who free from care
The rage of courts, and noise of towns;
Contented breathes his native air,
In his own grounds.
       
Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.
       
Blest! who can unconcern'dly find
Hours, days, and years slide swift away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,
       
Sound sleep by night; study and ease
Together mix'd; sweet recreation,
And innocence, which most does please,
With meditation.
       
Thus let me live, unheard, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.

Solitude - Alexander Pope
3 weeks ago