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". He slipped a feather behind her ear, as he always did when he was leaving. "Don't stop flying, my little bird." He would whisper in her ear. Then when he was gone she would add the feather to the small cubbard where she kept them. He was her soldier and she was his bird. Nothing could change that. But bullets would try. "

Beautiful vintage-style bubble photography.

sineaddee: I love the colour in this photo - does make me think of How I met Your Mother though.  I want to yank the yellow umbrella up and scream “WHO ARE YOU??”

Découvert! (Discovered!) • photo: Bernard Chevalier on Flickr ~ looks like my secret hiding place in the wheat field as a young girl