Sentences with phrase «by crackling fires»

Seated next to a towering limestone fireplace, or outdoors on a terrace warmed by crackling fires.

Aged in American Oak casks a minimum of 36 months, the 70 proof spirits impart a gentle, lush and full - bourbon flavor with notes of spices that are reminiscent of drinks enjoyed by a crackling fire.

It's the time of year when one sits by a crackling fire and ponders, as beads of remorseful sweat collect on one's forehead, all the things that went unaccomplished in the preceding year.

Read on for easy, natural decorating ideas using fall leaves, fresh produce, and farm - stand flowers, plus some simple pleasures to savor like sipping hot apple cider by a crackling fire...

Before the holiday chaos sets in, it's nice to take advantage of festive fall activities: fall foliage for one, but also pumpkin picking, and maybe a couple days off to sip some hot apple cider by a crackling fire.

Wintertime Sunriver vacations suit two very different kinds of cold - weather travelers: those who love time lounging by a crackling fire, catching up on reading or binge - watching movies, and those who go for adventure, hitting the trails, snowshoeing, and cross-country skiing, returning to their vacation home to recharge and hit the trails early the next morning.

Returning from the slopes, spend a quiet evening on sumptuous sofas by the crackling fire, sipping fine wine while watching your favorite shows.

All your cares will melt away as you sit by a crackling fire on the resort's private beach, surrounded by views of moonlit Point Loma, the Kona Kai Marina, and the most picturesque sunsets in Southern California.

Not exact matches

If you're at all concerned that your baby or toddler is too cold, head inside and celebrate the wintry temperatures by sipping hot chocolate and warming up next to a crackling fire.

Lo and behold, the tasters ranked the whiskey as «grassier» when sitting in lawn chairs among potted plants, «sweeter» when sniffing a sugary scent before a bowl of berries, and «woodier» when savoring the beverage surrounded by wood paneling and listening to a soundtrack of a crackling fire — even though they knew they were drinking the same whiskey the whole time.

Warm blankets on benches, fall leaves rustling on the ground, a close - by fire - pit crackling....

I THINK THE BEST TIME TO VISIT SABIE is all year round, because our Winter days are warm and sunny with chilly nights when we love to snuggle up by a crackling log fire.

In addition, several fantastic microbreweries thrive here in Orange County and, recently, makers of distilled spirits have opened, providing an interesting combination of local tastings and tours to choose from.And, if it is a taste of the «Big Apple» you seek, you can take a day trip by train or car into New York City, just 60 minutes away.Upon your return to the inn, unwind with a glass of wine on the same wrap - around front porch the Caldwells used two centuries ago, or sit in the parlor with a hot cup of tea and read a book while a crackling wood fire keeps you warm.

Cozy Up By a Beach Fire: Dig your feet in the cool sand and cuddle up around a crackling beach fire with the sound of the surf serenadFire: Dig your feet in the cool sand and cuddle up around a crackling beach fire with the sound of the surf serenadfire with the sound of the surf serenading.

Sink into overstuffed chairs by your own crackling fire or restore in a deep - soaking Jacuzzi tub for two.

The Tudor Suiteis an intimate suite with Queen Size 4 Posted Carved Mahogany bed, crackling log fire at the foot of same, kitchenette, whitewashed walls and garden deck with romantic outdoor setting for two surrounded by evergreen trees and foliage opposite the entry.

A gourmet dinner of seasonal cuisine created with locally sourced ingredients follows by the light of candles or the crackling fire and is accompanied by a selection of fine wines, beer, and spirits.

Enemies die quickly whether Kirby's sword is on fire, encircled by wind, crackling with electricity, or just plain nothing - special metal.

Upon booting up The Librarian, the single person project of developer Octavi Navarro, you are immediately swept up by the sounds of a crackling fire, howling wind and the simple message: «To my dad.»

According to legend, Prometheus introduced fire to mankind (after he stole if from the God Hephaestus's workshop), an act that enraged Zeus; Garabedian winks at this myth by depicting Prometheus's right hand as a crackling torch.

Solo exhibitions include «Fire Tale», curated by Joseph R. Wolin at Four Gallery in Dublin, Ireland, 2007; «Wading Under a Crackling Sky», curated by Glenn Ligon at CUE Art Foundation in New York City (2007); and «The Evening Canopy and the Sunset Hour» at Mercer Union in Toronto (2006).

, you are lying on the floor of your place looking up, a small draft runs through the room, between the door and the window, and all things seem perfectly still, wind only disturbs concrete in imperceptible ways, or it may take millions of years to be noticed and, as the air runs through the space, all your plants move and all is animated and all is alive somehow, and here are the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me, and that wind upon your plants is the common air that bathes the globe, and we have no ambitions of universalism, and I'm glad we don't, but the particles of air bring traces of pollen and are charged with electricity, desert sand, maybe sea water, and these particles were somewhere else before they were dragged here, and their route will not end by the door of this house, and if we tell each other stories, one can imagine that they might have been bathed by this same air, regrouped and recombined, recharged as a vehicle for sound, swirling as it moves, bringing the sound of a drum, like that Kabuki story where a fox recognizes the voice of its parents as a girl plays a drum made out of their skin, or any other event, and yet I always felt your work never tells stories, I tend to think that narrative implies a past tense, even if that past was just five seconds ago, one second ago was already the past, and human memory is irrelevant in geological time, plants and fish know not what tomorrow will bring, neither rocks nor metal do, but we all live here now, and we all need visions and we all need dreams, and as long as your metal sculptures vibrate they are always in the Present, and their past is a material truth alien to narrative, but well, maybe narrative does not imply a past tense at all and they are writing their own story while they gently move and breathe, and maybe nothing was really still before the wind came in, passing through the window as if through an irrational portal to make those plants dance, but everything was already moving and breathing in near complete silence, and if you're focused enough you can feel the pulse of a concrete wall and you can feel the tectonic movements of the earth, and you can hear the magma flowing under our feet and our bones crackling like a wild fire, and you can see the light of fireflies reflected in polished metal, and there is nothing magical about that, it is just the way things are, and sometimes we have to raise our voice because the music is too loud and let your clothes move to a powerful bass, sound waves and bright lights, powerful like the sun, blinding us if we stare for too long, but isn't it the biggest sign of love, like singing to a corn field, and all acts of kindness that are not pitiful nor utilitarian, that are truly horizontal as everything around us is impregnated with the deadliest violence, vertical and systemic, poisonous, and sometimes you just want to feel the sun burning your skin and look for life in all things declared dead, a kind of vitality that operates like corrosion, strong as the wind near the sea, transforming all things,

Rather than the added ambience of a crackling fire or candles or twinkling lights that we might have really enjoyed at Christmas time, we sit in a dark dreary space lit only by a television set or computer screen.

Embrace the character of your home by designing a rustic bolthole with a simple chair, mound of messy cushions and a low blaze emitted from a crackling fire — the perfect cave.

Warm blankets on benches, fall leaves rustling on the ground, a close - by fire - pit crackling....