The image captures the miraculous moment when the rays of sun hit a rare cloud called a pile cloud, and the angle and other subtle conditions are reflected in a divine rainbow color. (Source)
ALL HAIL THE GLOW CLOUD
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Keni

if i look back, i am lost

JVL
hello vonnie
Peter Solarz
đ©” avery cochrane đ©”

Andulka
Aqua Utopiaïœæ”·ăźćșă§èšæ¶ă玥ă
NASA

â
KIROKAZE
DEAR READER
untitled

blake kathryn
art blog(derogatory)
sheepfilms

â
Stranger Things
Cosmic Funnies
seen from United Arab Emirates
seen from Morocco
seen from Spain
seen from TĂŒrkiye
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Belgium
seen from United States
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seen from Ecuador
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@burgmund
The image captures the miraculous moment when the rays of sun hit a rare cloud called a pile cloud, and the angle and other subtle conditions are reflected in a divine rainbow color. (Source)
ALL HAIL THE GLOW CLOUD
Like, I'd be lying if I said I was into fucked up yuri RPGs purely for the game mechanics, but it's unavoidably true that Tumblr lesbians as a demographic are doing some of the most innovative rules design the tabletop roleplaying hobby has seen in years. That this often means we're getting fucked up yuri and novel ways to abuse big stupid dice tables in one convenient package is more of a fun bonus.
show me the fucked up yuri rpgs please
What, all of them? That's a very tall order!
(Seriously, though, it's a pretty broad genre. I have to confess a certain bias toward dungeon crawlers, so my reading list is mostly going to consist of stuff like Songbirds, Doll.Bod, @cavegirlpoems' Dungeon Bitches, etc. â just to cite a few I've perused recently â though I'm also a sucker for a good genre emulation piece, like @open-sketchbook's Double or Nothing or @sarahcarapace's forthcoming Violet Core.)
For good measure (and also on the non-dungeon crawling side of things) I'd like to add @kkdreamboat's Crooked Mile, the highly underrated mind bending liminal horror Dungeon Bitches supplement about being a queer 1990's punk band on the road in the rustbelt and Velvet Glove by Sarah Doom, the 70s girl-gang game that is a wonderful, kinda distressingly good game. There are so many cool sapphic leaning rpg writers and games out there!
hey that's my game! i dun did make doll.bod!
but also I'd be remiss if I didn't mention @darlingdemoneclipse's Biotrophication, Sapphicworld, and We Live Forever (and We Love To Live) (made alongside the unfroggetable @i-feel-odd)
There's also @blujayh's Euphoria 2180!
You know, I could have sworn you had a Tumblr blog, but when I was tagging authors in my initial plug I couldn't find the thing. Problem solved, I guess!
good morning systems!! đđ©âïž
letâs try to only have positivity today. being negative is hard, and itâs very hard on the brain.
try to find something that makes you happy, and post about it! iâd love to hear all the things that make you smile :3
i apologize for all the negativity lately, weâve been struggling. but today, weâre going to be good!!
I've been integrating a powerful character into my game world and the rippling implications it is having are very exciting. I love that feeling of dawning realization when you add one element to a world and it recontextualizes everything else in place so far.
Black Velvet Capes // Chap Dresses
Autumn Cloak // Amy Rushworth
i love the serpent snails so much theyre so cutes
adorables
Lovables
So. There was a copy of the Egyptian Book of the Dead at Five Below.
(Can we all stop to appreciate how weird that sentence is?)
I figured I might as well buy it. Then I saw this, in the introduction:
This is not how life expectancies work!!
For most of human history, if you made it to adulthood, you had a good chance of making it to age 70, assuming you didnât die in war or childbirth.
Low life expectancy means high infant mortality, usually from disease. Ancient times were not like Loganâs Run where everybody was under 30.
Anyway, I do not have very high hopes for this translation.
Guy who has heard other guys refer to their wives as "ball and chain" and "battle-axe" and wrongfully assumed you can refer to your wife as any medieval weapon: oh there's my beautiful Lucerne hammer
The Reduction
Georgeâs coworker begins sending memos wherein every number is accompanied by some parenthetical factoid or statistic. He finds it unusual but informative, and feels as though the references give him a better understanding of the figures involved. Soon, other memos from other coworkers appear with similar definitions, not just for numbers but for words. Eventually, every memo reads like a postmodernist list of encyclopedic associations, and he canât even discern what the original intents of any of the messages actually are.
Kramer is baffled to find that eggs no longer come in dozens [from the old form of the French word douzaine, meaning âa group of twelveâ], but in elevens instead, in strange, trapezoidal [from Greek ÏÏαÏÎζÎčÎżÎœ (trapĂ©zion), literally âa little tableâ] cartons with staggered rows. He asks one of the storeâs employees about it, but they claim that eggs have only ever come in elevens [the 5th smallest prime number]. As he progresses through the store, he finds that other items seem to come in groups of one fewer than expected: five-packs of beer, seven-packs of hot dog buns, nine-packs of hot dogs, three-packs of toilet paper rolls. Alarmed, he drops his eggs and runs out of the store, only to find that it seems later in the day than expected. He checks his watch, but there are only eleven hours on the dial. âBut that doesnât make sense,â he mutters. âThat's two less hours in the day!â His realization seems to set off a chain reaction, as groupings of like items begin decreasing before his very eyes. Windows disappear from buildings. Parking meters become rapidly less expensive. Branches disappear from trees. He looks down at his hands to find two fingers and a thumb [from Proto-Indo-European tum, meaning âswellingâ, a primary characteristic among primates] on each one. Horrified, he runs as fast as he can to Jerryâs.
A handful of people follow Jerry home from a show. He tries to shake them, ducking into alleyways and shopping centers, but instead of losing them, others seem to join in the pursuit. Eventually he finds himself followed by three thousand people [â population of Falkland Islands, nation].
Kramer arrives, stumbling, and grabs Jerry by the collar as best as he can with the sole fingers remaining on each of his hands. "Thank God I found you, Jerry!â he wails, struggling to speak clearly with only one tooth left in his mouth.
"Thank God I found you,â says Jerry. He turns to gesture at the crowd of people trailing behind him, but there is now only one man left from the original group, standing on the only street left in Manhattan [originally settled in the year 1, it is the only borough of New York City, with a population of 2]. Jerry and Kramer enter the only building, through its only door, and go into the only apartment inside, where they share the only bed. âGoodnight,â sputters Kramer to himself as he shuts off the only light left in the world with his lone remaining arm [the only limb on the human body].
Pronouns? Nah, I actually have expertnouns, which are slightly better. And I'm not telling you what they are.
my body is not a flesh prison, itâs a divine weapon that I get to inhabit during my time on this earth. And also itâs fuckable like crazy
had a dream that I met a wizard and we fell in love and became unhealthily attached to each other so we decided to meld into one single creature together but the process was horrifically slow and painful and most of the dream was us lying in bed holding hands while lesions opened up in our skin and seeped out blue and green fluid and the wizard said "this is going to take a very very long time" and I said "that's ok"
the critics are raving
relevant
anytime a woman starts talking about the âbonds of sisterhood that inherently exist between all womenâ you just know they bullied the weird girls in high school
The people confused about why this is: Because if they say âBonds of sisterhood INSTINCTIVELY, INHERENTLY EXIST between ALL WOMENâ then if they *donât* feel Sisterhood towards you (eg, you are the Weird Girl In High School) then you must have done something TERRIBLE to break that instinctive bond (All gift of fear shit âI donât know why I donât like her but I should trust my instinct!!â) so itâs morally right to abuse you, OR since they donât feel that INSTINCTIVE BOND it must mean that you arenât Really A Woman (Which⊠Guess how this plays out for racialised women and especially Black and dark skinned women, disabled women, trans women⊠etc)
Bonus points: White women using âWhereâs your SISTERHOOD?!?!â when they perceive Black and other PoC women, or Nomadic and Traveller women, as âpatriarchalâ or âtraitorsâ for often feeling more commonality with the men in their own family than with white womenâŠ
Itâs no mistake that they emphasize stereotypical femininity as the One True Commonality that all female and female appearing people should value above even humanity. Because if you were the girl in the first grade who liked spiders, you werenât feminine enough for them. if you were a girl in middle school who didnât have a specific idea of what the guy you wanted to date should look like, you werenât feminine enough for them. If you were the girl in high school who had bigger fish to fry than doing your hair in something more elaborate than a ponytail, you werenât feminine enough for them.
Sometimes theyâd try to convert the outliers, other times theyâd just shun them, other times theyâd go out of their way to harass them.
But the common denominator in any of these scenarios is that that they are performing and enforcing an idea of a girl or woman who is palatable to the patriarchy.
I do not mean to say that a girl who doesnât like spiders, has a concrete idea of what she wants her future boyfriend to look like, and wears her hair in fancier hairstyles is by definition anti-feminist.
But when she deals in the idea that a girl or woman must be aesthetically similar to herself in order to be a part of some nebulous âsisterhoodâ itâs really just the same as saying âBoys canât wear pink, a girls favorite animal should never be a lizard,â etc. only misdirected as feminism.
Europe (yur·uhp) is an exotic peninsula in the extreme westernmost reaches of Asia with many fascinating cultures and landscapes and home to many of the world's last remaining feudal kingdoms, offering a glimpse back into a more simplistic way of living.
Imagine if baking bread was a skill any person living independently in their own house needed to have at least a passing familiarity with, so there were endless books, blogs and websites about how to bake bread, but none of them seemed to contain the most basic facts about how bread actually works.
You would go online and find questions like "Help, I put my bread in the oven, and it GOT BIGGER!" and instead of saying anything about bread naturally rises when you put yeast in it, the results would be advertising some kind of $970 device that punches the bread while it's baking so it doesn't rise.
Even the most reliable, factually grounded sources available would have only the barest scraps of information on the particularities of ingredients, such as how different types of flour differ and produce different results, or how yeast affects the flavor profile of bread. Rice flour, barley flour, potato flour and amaranth flour would be just as common as wheat flour, but finding sources that didn't treat them as functionally identical would be near impossible. ïżŒAt the same time, websites and books would list specific brands of flour in bread recipes, often without specifying anything else.
An unreasonable amount of people would be hellbent on doing something like baking a full-sized loaf of bread in under 3 minutes, and would regularly bake bread to charred cinders at 700 degrees in an attempt to accomplish this, but instead of gently telling people that their goal is not realistic, books claiming to be general resources would be framed entirely around the goal of baking bread as fast as possible, with entire chapters devoted to making the charred bread taste like it isn't charred.
Anyway, this is what landscaping is like.
Disclaimer: I am about to drag the entire field of landscaping like Hector's corpse through the mud at Troy. If this is not the kind of thing you're into, read no further.
So, the entire United States (where I live) is covered in these:
Landscaping shrubs give me major uncanny valley ick. They grow so indifferently to hostile surroundings and caretaking alike, totally ignored by insects, that it seems they must never have been quite alive in the first place.
If it's possible to be cruel to a plant, what we've done to landscaping shrubs is cruelty; they're bred to be planted in packed clay and gravel beside barren concrete and poison-soaked lawn and cling to life for a few years at best before being replacedâ all the while forming no relationships with other plants or animals and showing no outward signs of distress.
So the trouble is. Everyone Knows that the way you make a flower bed is
till up a section of ground,
put the plants you want in it, spaced apart according to how big they're expected to grow,
spread mulch over the empty space between them,
and pull up all the weeds that pop up for eternity.
This doesn't work. It's amazing just how much it doesn't work and just how devoted the entire fucking world is to believing that it does.
Fact is, ecosystems are a ceaseless and absolutely unstoppable flow of change. New plants emerge. Present plants grow and interact with other organisms. Old plants die. Organic material decays and is changed. Erosion and weathering remove and introduce new soil material. CHANGE. This is what it is to be alive, to have life, to live. CHANGE.
Life wants to proliferate, to grow, to take in and use energy, and we live on an alive planet of alive things. Life has adapted to every possible niche, from the deepest mine shafts to the drains of hospital sinks; the harshness of extreme environments is nothing but "I double dog dare you."
Extreme environments have life forms that specialize in them. They're sometimes called extremophiles. A heavily disturbed and denuded environment, like a bare, tilled-up flower bed, is extreme for most plants; plants are a community-oriented lot that essentially collectively terraform their own environments.
Direct, unfiltered exposure to sunlight, rain, and wind is absolutely brutal for many organisms that don't live in a desert or other similar biome. Plants take damage from the very radiation they feed upon. Raindrops striking the bare soil, without leaves or decaying plant matter to cushion them, pack the surface soil layer into a hard crust. Wind blowing against plant leaves makes them lose water faster (succulents have a workaround though). Soil without a thick mat of roots and fungi penetrating it washes or blows away at the slightest disturbance. Water in direct sunlight evaporates quickly. And bare rock, asphalt, or concrete in sun quickly becomes unsurvivably hot.
These conditions are features, not bugs, of desert biomes, but they are also temporarily created by disturbance in any biome. So there's a special category of short-lived plants adapted specifically for disturbance. They're called pioneer species or disaster species, but their other name is more familiar: weeds.
The typical landscaping bed, with big spaces in between the intentionally planted plants waiting for them to grow bigger, is exactly the habitat weeds are adapted for.
Weeds produce a bajillion tiny seeds that make their way into every crumb of soil everywhere, and weed seeds don't sprout immediately when they are buried in soilâthey wait. Weed seeds go dormant, like sleeper agents waiting for activation, sometimes for decades, until they detect a disruption in their surroundings that tells them their environment has been disturbed. Then they sprout.
Keeping weeds out of a flower bed that looks like this is so much labor that no one can do it. And pulling up or killing the weeds is disturbing the soil and activating more weeds. It's like a task you would be assigned in Hell.
And everyone KNOWS no one can do it, so landscapers lay down landscape fabric or just straight plastic under the mulch so everything in the soil is trapped when it tries to emerge. The trouble with this is that soil eventually forms or is brought in on top of it, and new weeds grow in THAT, or the weeds just sprout right through not giving a singular shit, as weeds are wont to do.
And landscape fabric, like plastic, NEVER DECOMPOSES. Either way you're just putting plastic in your soil.
Even worse, these ill conceived weed barriers might eventually kill your plants. Roots need water, they also need to exchange oxygen with the air. Enough mulch and plastic to stop weeds, will also likely suffocate your plants to death, on top of stopping water and nutrients from reaching down into the soil where roots can absorb them.
Once your plants are dead, you have to dig through plastic to plant new ones, and probably put down new plastic. With most suburban homes this cycle has repeated god knows how many times and you can't break ground without digging up more scraps of non-biodegradable trash.
Another alternative is to use straight-up rocks instead of mulch, just pile rocks around your plants. This doesn't actually stop weeds, but it does mean every time you try to plant something, you get to spend hours picking rocks out of the soil one by one.
Or you can use poison. Yay!
I get so angry about this, because the average American thinks gardening is this kind of torture labyrinth where you just pull crabgrass out of a pile of splinters forever, and any advice they receive will consist of instructions on how to kill their plants slowly.
It's at the point where the mulch with a few small plants in it IS the aesthetic ideal, where the black mulch is a visual backdrop to set off the plants, because NO ONE EVER SEES THESE GARDENS REACH MATURITY because THEY NEVER LAST THAT LONG. At some point the idea was that the flower bed would eventually "fill out," but now "dyed mulch with plants scattered in it" is just what a garden bed is expected to look like.
Landscaping websites typically list the lifespan of small trees or shrubs as around 10 years, which is...incredibly sad. Not every plant will live to its maximum lifespan, but many common species can live to 50-70 years.
And what this leads to, is landscapers expecting plants to only last a few years, so they plant trees 2 FEET FROM A BUILDING where they CANNOT SURVIVE LONG TERM. They plant lil baby ornamental shrubs where they cannot grow AT ALL without obstructing a path or a window. But it's what people expect to see, they expect to see tiny baby shrubs no more than knee high.
No one knows what a bush is anymore. "What are some bushes that are about a foot tall" I don't know, go to the Arctic fucking tundra and tell me!!! But the actual answer is: any of them, if you kill them often enough.
Many places with "nice landscaping" are literally just digging up their plants and replacing them every few months. That's what my college campus did.
And here's the thing that REALLY grinds my gears, okay? Not everybody wants or values Soulless Corporate Boxwood Hedge type gardens, but there is NO INFORMATION on any other way to do things.
The assumption that gardening is a planting your desired plants a certain distance apart in a single event and after that, no change except the plants getting bigger, is so fundamental, you can't even find a method of gardening that incorporates basic ecological succession. Which is going to happen whether you like it or not.
Weeds are specially adapted for heavily disturbed and destroyed environments, but that doesn't mean that every disaster species is a "bad" plant that is ugly or harmful.
So here's what we'd want to do: Group species roughly by their lifecycle (longer lived vs. shorter lived, annual vs. perennial) and the plasticity of their growth form (relatively fixed growth forms vs. colony forming, creeping, stoloniferous or rhizomatous plants, vines). Plant seeds in the wild don't fall to the ground perfectly spaced apart. The amount of room there is in total is what's important. Plants adapt their shape relative to the plants around them.
Plants are three-dimensional, meaning they take up the space they need by a mix of vertical AND horizontal growth, and they're not solid, impermeable masses that exclude other objects, they have spaces between their stems and leaves.
Plants grow overlapping and mixed together with each other. This is actually good for all of them because it cushions them against getting knocked flat by storms. Some wild species can't even hold themselves up planted alone without other plants surrounding them.
You'd plan out fixed locations for the relatively long-lived plants with relatively non-adaptable shapes. Then you'd put in the plants that can shift their growth forms a little more, plants that form colonies or that grow in the direction they favor etc. Then you'd overload the rest of the space with annual plants, low creeping plants, vines, etcâplants that can essentially move around wherever they like.
Gardeners keep assuming that plants don't move but they do. Any colony-forming plant or plant with rhizomes, vines, runners, etc. can move to where it wants to be by growing that direction and making new stems and roots there. Annuals likewise will produce a bajillion seeds that end up everywhere and the seeds in the best place will grow up and be successful.
You need a mix of plants that grow tall, plants with a more creeping habit, plants that are more ethereal and delicate and mix in with more robust plants, etc.
The dense, compact, extremely fixed and predictable form of selectively bred garden plants is actually way worse for excluding unwanted weeds. A mix of three or four plants planted in the same space, growing opportunistically to take advantage of gaps between their companions' leaves, will do a way better job of filling space.
Also, everyone thinks a vine is only good for climbing a trellis or something. Bullshit. A vine is just a plant that does whatever the hell it wants. An herbaceous vine will be perfectly happy climbing your other plants or creeping along the ground, filling in spaces the other plants missed.
You should expect your garden to change over time! That's the biggest thing I wish people knew. You're not going to get the "end result" within a year. There is no end result. Shorter-lived plants take over the role of dominating the place while the longer lived ones are still growing up. Every plant eventually dies and another plant grows. Change is eternal, so embrace it!
Think of it like this, either you pick out the adaptable short-lived disaster species, or Nature picks them for you. There's gonna be weeds. Weeds are as unstoppable as time. So, might as well pick native, ecologically beneficial weeds you like.
A healthy selection of ferocious native weeds will critically weaken the invasive little shits. The long-lived perennials will take longer to grow to maximum size and flourishing with heavy competition, but later-successional species are used to that; they spend the time networking, biding their time and building a super deep root system that will prepare them for explosive and vigorous growth when they're ready.
Eventually, the "weedier" plants will get outcompeted and begin diminishing...which is when it starts looking like a great time for a new garden!!!!
This all applies doubly to any sort of environmental remediation or habitat restoration context, btw. Like, to use the context I have actual experience with, people pay lots of money, like hundreds of millions of dollars annually just in the US, to perform beach dune remediation.
Which, in practice, usually means "put a few hundred feet of scree fencing in, and then pay someone to put in a monoculture of sea oats plugs at 2 foot intervals, then be surprised when 95+% of them die off in 3 years." Like, you HAVE to start taking the natural ecology into play here. Maybe throw some beach ipomeas or asters and other dune grasses into the mix, or even some of the woody-ish shrubs you get back on secondary and tertiary dunes. Fuck it, if you're far enough south, why not try some mangroves even?!? Or shit, I don't know, maybe at least propagate relatively local ecotypes rather than plugs of sea oats from some random greenhouse 2500 miles north in a completely different climate. That's not even getting into any considerations re: trying to maintain the extant soil microbiome when you just dump a few hundred tons of soil you dredged up on the beach. This shit has been common knowledge (albeit not always commonly utilized knowledge) in other grassland restoration projects in praries and the like for decades, let's get with the goddamn times already on this.