Oneness

All life
the sages say,
is One
- and I believe them;
nay, I know 'tis so. 

I may not feel it 
viscerally,
but my mind sees and knows
the evidence,
and
my heart shares
the intellectual position ... 

but I still want,
from time to time,
a physical hug.

Copyright © Kayleen White, Wiradjuri and Widjabul-Wiabol woman of the Lost Generations, 2025 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication). I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :) 

NO AI I do not consent to any machine learning aka Artificial Intelligence (AI), generative AI, large language model, machine learning, chatbot, or other automated analysis, generative process, or replication program to reproduce, mimic, remix, summarise, or otherwise replicate any part of this post or other posts on this blog via any means. Typo’s may be inserrted deliberately to demonstrate this is not an AI product. Otherwise, fair and reasonable use is accepted under Creative Commons 4.0 on an Attribution-ShareAlike basis https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/  

This Waring morn

This morn
this softly lit morn
with dawn tinged wisps
is a blessed relief
after months of heat,
as I welcome and am welcomed to
to this season of Waring. 

Copyright © Kayleen White, Wiradjuri and Widjabul-Wiabol woman of the Lost Generations, 2025 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication). I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :) 

NO AI I do not consent to any machine learning aka Artificial Intelligence (AI), generative AI, large language model, machine learning, chatbot, or other automated analysis, generative process, or replication program to reproduce, mimic, remix, summarise, or otherwise replicate any part of this post or other posts on this blog via any means. Typo’s may be inserrted deliberately to demonstrate this is not an AI product. Otherwise, fair and reasonable use is accepted under Creative Commons 4.0 on an Attribution-ShareAlike basis https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/  

The Trap and The Trapped

Not yet of middle age,
they lie and joke to each other
oh, we're getting older now
- ya hafta expect a little slowin' and a little stiffenin' of ya joints
all the while ignoring
the desperate fear and panic
- only partly hidden by joke and smile and "laugh lines"
as they come to realise
the true pain and cost of corporate world
- of wanting the big, glitzy house
      paid for by so many hours away
      it is never seen by sun
- of seeking pay rises to pay for
      performative family treats
      - fast paced holidays away, to be enjoyed no matter what
- of seeing and coping with and doing
      abuse and bullying and exchanges of
      well, if you want, ya gotta do and give and pay
      - even if you don't
- of locking in and hiding pain and misery and self loathing
      from those one loves
      especially when their wishes make it worse
- and, maybe worst of all, the self loathing of
      knowingly lying to and deceiving
      those who will come next
      and watching their growing horror and hate
      as they find and see the truth,
      and loathe with such a contempt
      it chills what little heart you had left.

Copyright © Kayleen White, Wiradjuri and Widjabul-Wiabol woman of the Lost Generations, 2025 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication). I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :) 

NO AI I do not consent to any machine learning aka Artificial Intelligence (AI), generative AI, large language model, machine learning, chatbot, or other automated analysis, generative process, or replication program to reproduce, mimic, remix, summarise, or otherwise replicate any part of this post or other posts on this blog via any means. Typo’s may be inserrted deliberately to demonstrate this is not an AI product. Otherwise, fair and reasonable use is accepted under Creative Commons 4.0 on an Attribution-ShareAlike basis https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/  

Collaborative Cluelessness [CW - sarcasm, language]

It is a little thing, ‘twould seem,

and yet mostly seemly

to tell a tale

of privileges and presumption,

and collaborative self deception.

‘tis a tale

of keeping medicine most seemly cool,

as manufacturers decree,

by keeping them in bathroom cabinet

‘cos that, you see, is always cool …

No, you cretinous clowns

in our houses cheap and flimsy

- as known by all who spend

even half a day in any of

those hot and cold boxes
and have to pick apart
a melted mass of tablets
to get the one kept cool
by the profound power of pronouncement.

Or are you out working

and never do see

the nature of reality?

Or mayhap your mind

cracked, could not comprehend

- or could not cope

with the consequences

- the illnesses unhealed

of your collaborative calumny.

Perhaps a builder ye be,

worried, doing what you will

- what you know and can,

and seek to salve your conscience

with a lie you deem most harmless,

a deception of and by the self- yours and theirs

so you can lie to yourself

that it makes the clearly and unbearably flawed

bearable - as with the hypnotist’s

victim, now confident that they are somehow

magically different, not suffering any more

despite body’s dismay.

Or, perhaps, you are some

rich, indifferent ponce

a couldn’t care less tosser

- a doctor, no doubt,

lying to keep the messy plebs

meek and docile

while they work and die

- whether of work or medicine cooked

beyond any semblance of worth,

while you sip your chill cocktails,

as you countenance a change

in air con temperature setting.

 

Copyright © Kayleen White, Wiradjuri and Widjabul-Wiabol woman of the Lost Generations, 2025 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication). I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :) 

NO AI I do not consent to any machine learning aka Artificial Intelligence (AI), generative AI, large language model, machine learning, chatbot, or other automated analysis, generative process, or replication program to reproduce, mimic, remix, summarise, or otherwise replicate any part of this post or other posts on this blog via any means. Typo’s may be inserrted deliberately to demonstrate this is not an AI product. Otherwise, fair and reasonable use is accepted under Creative Commons 4.0 on an Attribution-ShareAlike basis https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/  

Difference [CW - sarcasm]

The macho macho munchkin

- he calls himself a man,

is floundering - put out,

at meeting difference.

The macho macho munchkin

is demanding an explanation

- a reason to agree

that said difference exists

and is real,

and that he needs must

change his cherished

plan or speech or
quarter-baked performative thought

to accommodate what is real.

Oh macho macho munchkin

did you grow up in a fairy princess kingdom

where ponies and wands were replaced

with guns and trucks and things,

and rose coloured glasses had

a definite bloody hue?

Hey macho macho Princess Munchkin

stop denying your upset feelings

stop your tiny little-minded denial games

grow the hell up - leave your princess paradise

and come join the adults
in greater, gentler, more genuine reality.

Copyright © Kayleen White, Wiradjuri and Widjabul-Wiabol woman of the Lost Generations, 2025 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication). I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :) 

NO AI I do not consent to any machine learning aka Artificial Intelligence (AI), generative AI, large language model, machine learning, chatbot, or other automated analysis, generative process, or replication program to reproduce, mimic, remix, summarise, or otherwise replicate any part of this post or other posts on this blog via any means. Typo’s may be inserrted deliberately to demonstrate this is not an AI product. Otherwise, fair and reasonable use is accepted under Creative Commons 4.0 on an Attribution-ShareAlike basis https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/ 

More landscape photos

 

Copyright © Kayleen White, Wiradjuri and Widjabul-Wiabol woman of the Lost Generations, 2025 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication). I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :) 

NO AI I do not consent to any machine learning aka Artificial Intelligence (AI), generative AI, large language model, machine learning, chatbot, or other automated analysis, generative process, or replication program to reproduce, mimic, remix, summarise, or otherwise replicate any part of this post or other posts on this blog via any means. Typo’s may be inserrted deliberately to demonstrate this is not an AI product. Otherwise, fair and reasonable use is accepted under Creative Commons 4.0 on an Attribution-ShareAlike basis https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/  

The normies ... [Content Warning - language]

When the normies ask ...
   why am I alive?
They really mean ...
   how can I be
   the same
   as everybody else. 

When the normies ask ...
   how should I behave?
They really mean ...
   how can I be
   the same
   as everyone else. 

When the normies ask ...
    what jobs should I do?
They really mean ...
   how can I be
   the same
   as everything else.

When the normies ask ...
    what should I think about?
They really mean ...
   what is the best fakery
   of being smart
   - cos ya can't pretend pretty.

When the normies ask ...
    how do I improve my workplace?
They really mean ...
   how can I suck up
   while acting progressive
   - cos ya gotta be a teamie.

When the normies ask ...
    who should I support and vote for?
They really mean ...
   how do I polish and progress
   my normalcy and niceness
   - cos ya gotta be stable.

When the normies ask ...
    WTF just happened?!
They really mean ...
   But I was a perfect puppet! 
   WTF just happened?!

Copyright © Kayleen White, Wiradjuri and Widjabul-Wiabol woman of the Lost Generations, 2025
(where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication). I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :) 

NO AI
I do not consent to any machine learning aka Artificial Intelligence (AI), generative AI, large language model, machine learning, chatbot, or other automated analysis, generative process, or replication program to reproduce, mimic, remix, summarise, or otherwise replicate any part of this post or other posts on this blog via any means. Typo’s may be inserrted deliberately to demonstrate this is not an AI product. Otherwise, fair and reasonable use is accepted under Creative Commons 4.0 on an Attribution-ShareAlike basis https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/  

Burdens be ...

Burdens of
... life, of living
   - eating, sheltering, clothing
      of meeting other needs ... 

Some are a joy, some neutral be,
others an unpleasant burden be. 

Burdens made worse
   by hate,
      by selfishness that excludes and hates and fears
         and is flummoxed by the unfamiliar,
            the new, the ... "strange"
the smallness of the neoliberal,
   the authoritarian,
      the hate-filled and hate-fuelled bigot. 

Other burdens may come
out of compassion, of caring
- for loved ones,
   for strangers in need,
        of working for a better world ... 

Those burdens,
maybe gladly entered,
can a less joyful burden become,
with undue demands,
   with taking for granted,
      with blindness to suffering caused,
         with burdensome wear and worry and worldly change ... 

Burdens be ...

 

Copyright © Kayleen White, Wiradjuri and Widjabul-Wiabol woman of the Lost Generations, 2025 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication). I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :) 

NO AI I do not consent to any machine learning aka Artificial Intelligence (AI), generative AI, large language model, machine learning, chatbot, or other automated analysis, generative process, or replication program to reproduce, mimic, remix, summarise, or otherwise replicate any part of this post or other posts on this blog via any means. Typo’s may be inserrted deliberately to demonstrate this is not an AI product. Otherwise, fair and reasonable use is accepted under Creative Commons 4.0 on an Attribution-ShareAlike basis https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/  

[Content Warning - WW2, war, violence, mass atrocities/genocide, other human rights abuses] After watching the movie “Lee” ...

I wrote this after watching the 2023 movie “Lee”, which covers key parts of the life of Lee Miller, photojournalist, model, CSA survivor, and war correspondent - and is particularly evocative of the experiences she underwent in World War II that left her - very understandably - further (and severely) traumatised (see also here and here). Follow the links if you want to know more (I have to be wary of Blogger’s rules), but this poem was my response to watching the movie. 

In modern war, the shell and bomb
destroy the most
- and, in buildings, do not
leave neatly disassembled piles
of what had been, maybe lovingly,
maybe skilfully, maybe cheaply,
wrought into one conjoint creation ...
No, shell and bomb leave
a tangled scatter of pulverised components
each break and smash a release of pulver
till shocked cloud tries to hide
some of what has been done. 

But not to bodies of man nor other beings ...
it is not dust
that pulverised flesh
contributes to the air
(and land, and water). 

And, in modern war,
that's not all that's in the air;
civilians hide and hope,
bullets fly, soldiers dodge,
and washing is, of necessity, set aside
adding living human smells
- and taint of wounds,
to all that colours that air. 

And yet those smells
- stenches of death,
reminders of hurt or unwashed life,
all pale before what wafts
from train and camp
- not from pulverised, once living flesh,
but twin stenches:

One of cruelty devised, planned, 
organised - people herded and counted,
cruelty sustained ...
- cruelnesses both known and new,
cruelty of size and severities
and length and breadth and depth
that, beyond its victims, survivors, and perpetrators,
robs the witness of body's breath
and heart's humanity and soul's hope ...
- cruelty that stains the pores of witness's soul ...
a besmirching totality of cruelty not known nor conceived
- till then ... 

And the other stench ...
the  evil  that  conceived  it ... 

those two foulnesses
pollute those airs.

 

Copyright © Kayleen White, Wiradjuri and Widjabul-Wiabol woman of the Lost Generations, 2025 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication). I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :) 

NO AI I do not consent to any machine learning aka Artificial Intelligence (AI), generative AI, large language model, machine learning, chatbot, or other automated analysis, generative process, or replication program to reproduce, mimic, remix, summarise, or otherwise replicate any part of this post or other posts on this blog via any means. Typo’s may be inserrted deliberately to demonstrate this is not an AI product. Otherwise, fair and reasonable use is accepted under Creative Commons 4.0 on an Attribution-ShareAlike basis https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/ 

They persist ...

They persist
- those nightmares of old,
tho' I wrought art and skill
- with help,
in a quest to banish them. 

The truth,
'twould seem,
is simple:
those who have done evil to me
must needs apologise
for my sake
not theirs; 

but their power
their twisted misuse
of what I have done to save others
from their evil
is being now used against me
by those smug sacrosanct bastards
- and bitches,
incompetent and hateful all; 

may they rot in eternity,
as I,
having cleared the air,
now begin to heal. 

Copyright © Kayleen White, Wiradjuri and Widjabul-Wiabol woman of the Lost Generations, 2025 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication). I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :) 

NO AI I do not consent to any machine learning aka Artificial Intelligence (AI), generative AI, large language model, machine learning, chatbot, or other automated analysis, generative process, or replication program to reproduce, mimic, remix, summarise, or otherwise replicate any part of this post or other posts on this blog via any means. Typo’s may be inserrted deliberately to demonstrate this is not an AI product. Otherwise, fair and reasonable use is accepted under Creative Commons 4.0 on an Attribution-ShareAlike basis https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/  

A home

Settled.
Safe.
I can indulge
- new things,
my colours,
- new clothes,
one day, maybe
a new me
- the old me,
the one before the scars,
in a place I can call ...
home. 

 

Copyright © Kayleen White, Wiradjuri and Widjabul-Wiabol woman of the Lost Generations, 2025 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication). I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :) 

NO AI I do not consent to any machine learning aka Artificial Intelligence (AI), generative AI, large language model, machine learning, chatbot, or other automated analysis, generative process, or replication program to reproduce, mimic, remix, summarise, or otherwise replicate any part of this post or other posts on this blog via any means. Typo’s may be inserrted deliberately to demonstrate this is not an AI product. Otherwise, fair and reasonable use is accepted under Creative Commons 4.0 on an Attribution-ShareAlike basis https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/  

Old nightmares of yore

Old nightmares of yore
traumas of old,
and not so far,
are being foisted
on me - again
by the privileged powerful few
and their thoughtless characterisations
for social and governing systems.

Copyright © Kayleen White, Wiradjuri and Widjabul-Wiabol woman of the Lost Generations, 2025 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication). I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :) 

NO AI I do not consent to any machine learning aka Artificial Intelligence (AI), generative AI, large language model, machine learning, chatbot, or other automated analysis, generative process, or replication program to reproduce, mimic, remix, summarise, or otherwise replicate any part of this post or other posts on this blog via any means. Typo’s may be inserrted deliberately to demonstrate this is not an AI product. Otherwise, fair and reasonable use is accepted under Creative Commons 4.0 on an Attribution-ShareAlike basis https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/  

My friends

They're back! my friends of yore
- not lost,
but long not seen,
with changes now
you I can recall
and lay you there to see
- purple and blue and green,
and one too rich to name,
Friends from the Earth,
Friends of the Earth,
Friends on my Way. 

 

Copyright © Kayleen White, Wiradjuri and Widjabul-Wiabol woman of the Lost Generations, 2025 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication). I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :) 

NO AI I do not consent to any machine learning aka Artificial Intelligence (AI), generative AI, large language model, machine learning, chatbot, or other automated analysis, generative process, or replication program to reproduce, mimic, remix, summarise, or otherwise replicate any part of this post or other posts on this blog via any means. Typo’s may be inserrted deliberately to demonstrate this is not an AI product. Otherwise, fair and reasonable use is accepted under Creative Commons 4.0 on an Attribution-ShareAlike basis https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/  

Aid

The aid of another
has been denied
so oft and so long
I am learning
to seek it not ...

Copyright © Kayleen White, Wiradjuri and Widjabul-Wiabol woman of the Lost Generations, 2025 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication). I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :) 

NO AI I do not consent to any machine learning aka Artificial Intelligence (AI), generative AI, large language model, machine learning, chatbot, or other automated analysis, generative process, or replication program to reproduce, mimic, remix, summarise, or otherwise replicate any part of this post or other posts on this blog via any means. Typo’s may be inserrted deliberately to demonstrate this is not an AI product. Otherwise, fair and reasonable use is accepted under Creative Commons 4.0 on an Attribution-ShareAlike basis https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/  

The cool, grey rain

The cool, grey rain 
is more than a relief
after the scalding, burning sun; 

it is a renewal
- a surge of life
to plant and people both.

Copyright © Kayleen White, Wiradjuri and Widjabul-Wiabol woman of the Lost Generations, 2025 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication). I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :) 

NO AI I do not consent to any machine learning aka Artificial Intelligence (AI), generative AI, large language model, machine learning, chatbot, or other automated analysis, generative process, or replication program to reproduce, mimic, remix, summarise, or otherwise replicate any part of this post or other posts on this blog via any means. Typo’s may be inserrted deliberately to demonstrate this is not an AI product. Otherwise, fair and reasonable use is accepted under Creative Commons 4.0 on an Attribution-ShareAlike basis https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/  

Absorbance

Life can be
a game of how much
one can absorb: 

the blows, the stings,
- the barbarities of life
- the choice between
respond in kind,
or rise above
- which needs must
absorb the pain
and, as one may,
heal or ... hide
hide until one
vents, becomes ill, or dies
or maybe ...
perhaps
a bit of both ...

Copyright © Kayleen White, Wiradjuri and Widjabul-Wiabol woman of the Lost Generations, 2025 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication). I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :) 

NO AI I do not consent to any machine learning aka Artificial Intelligence (AI), generative AI, large language model, machine learning, chatbot, or other automated analysis, generative process, or replication program to reproduce, mimic, remix, summarise, or otherwise replicate any part of this post or other posts on this blog via any means. Typo’s may be inserrted deliberately to demonstrate this is not an AI product. Otherwise, fair and reasonable use is accepted under Creative Commons 4.0 on an Attribution-ShareAlike basis https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/ 

Waiting

I am waiting
watching time go by 

Enduring
till it is time to die ... 

Or am I learning peace
- to be, not do?

Copyright © Kayleen White, Wiradjuri and Widjabul-Wiabol woman of the Lost Generations, 2025 (where this date is different to the year of publication, it is because I did the post some time ago and then used the scheduling feature to delay publication). I take these photographs and undertake these writings – and the sharing of them – for the sake of my self expression. I am under no particular illusions as to their literary or artistic merit, and ask only that any readers do not have any undue expectations. If you consider me wrong, then publish me – with full credit and due financial recompense, of course :) 

NO AI I do not consent to any machine learning aka Artificial Intelligence (AI), generative AI, large language model, machine learning, chatbot, or other automated analysis, generative process, or replication program to reproduce, mimic, remix, summarise, or otherwise replicate any part of this post or other posts on this blog via any means. Typo’s may be inserrted deliberately to demonstrate this is not an AI product. Otherwise, fair and reasonable use is accepted under Creative Commons 4.0 on an Attribution-ShareAlike basis https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/