Sentences with phrase «wild place on earth»

Come with us and experience the wonders of the last wild place on earth!

I would not change a thing and I have to say to the management and owners, thank you, for creating such a fantastic place where you are protecting one of the last truly wild places on Earth.

Influenced largely by her own trips to some of the wildest places on earth, Wild Giants captures the remote, sweeping majesty of the edges of the world: the high places where humankind is nothing more than a spec on the landscape.

Set against the backdrop of one of the wildest places on Earth, this year's film is called «African Cats.»

Not exact matches

Take all of your fondest memories, mix them with your wildest dreams, put them together with the most beautiful places on earth, add in the most enjoyable people you know of to be around, and if can imagine such an event, you have not even come close understanding what God is preparing for those who love him.

Vegas has been a pretty wild place for some time now... don't you think if your god didn't like what was going on he'd bring some plague upon them or open the earth and swallow them whole or something like that?

Packs of wild kangaroo bounce across the horizon, and in springtime, this is one of the best places on earth for wildflower spotting.

Cool things to do in Donegal Ireland span the rugged Wild Atlantic Way and explore unique hidden gems of the «Coolest Place on Earth».

We here in the Gili Islands are amazingly lucky to be in one of the few, if not the only place on earth where seeing a turtle in the wild is all but guaranteed.

, 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,

Daydreamer and antisocial butterfly, Andrea has put her wild imagination to good use at some of the most creative places on Earth, including EA, ABC, MTV, Yahoo! and FOX.