todays bird

oozey mess
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
One Nice Bug Per Day
Not today Justin

Kiana Khansmith
d e v o n
Cosimo Galluzzi

blake kathryn
Mike Driver
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cherry valley forever

gracie abrams

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EXPECTATIONS

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Xuebing Du
Sweet Seals For You, Always
KIROKAZE
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@comfortable-cat6972
Every morning, the queen asked her magic mirror to show her the most beautiful person in the world.
The mirror replied "To whom?"
"The miller who made the flour for my bread," the queen would say, or "Whoever spun the thread my shawl was made of".
The mirror would show her, and she'd be amazed.
The first time, she says "To me," and the mirror dutifully shows her her reflection. And she is pleased.
The second time, she says "To the King," and she is pleased to see herself once more.
The third time, she says "To the Royal Advisor," and is once more satisfied to see herself.
The fourth time, she says "To the scribe who takes the King's letters." She is shown the man's wife. And she seethes, but quiets herself, for it is only right that a man loves his wife.
The fifth time, she says "To the Court Wizard," and is shown the man's departed mother as he remembers her from his youth, radiant and smiling and warm and larger than life.
The tenth time, she says "To the Stable Master," and is shown the fastest horse in the stable, majestic and free as the wind even in captivity
"To the baker," she is shown the man's daughter, young and adorable and full of joy and laughter.
"To the artist who did my portrait," she is shown a painting of a woman done by the man's teacher, who he still looks up to now that he is well established himself.
"To the Royal Knight," she is surprised but not displeased to see the castle's entire guard force in the middle of doing drills.
The one hundredth time she asks the mirror, and it asks her "to whom?" she once again says, "To me." And she does the same the one hundred and second, and again and again and again.
It is a different person each time, and they are all beautiful.
andrew didn’t choke that boy hard enough. there’s no way in hell you’ve just dragged your family through a riot, realized your little boo thing is missing, and your codependent situationship tells you “you were always going to lose him.” andrew should’ve squeezed til his eyes popped out bc where’s the urgency? why aren’t you also looking for this man who has saved your life, or at the very least has stood between you and your worst fear on multiple occasions? how dare you look at me in my worst hour and presume to know more than I do? do you realize you’ve violated the terms of our agreement by “keeping his secret”? I think andrew underreacted. I think it should’ve taken more people to drag him off the queen. I think that bruise didn’t linger long enough.
and yes this applies especially if kevin said it as a reminder to himself and not just a last minute notice to andrew. his spinelessness will never cease to amaze me and piss me off in equal measure. you promised a ghost from your past a taste of a life he will never get to live, and your contribution to his retrieval (dead or alive) is ambivalent self-righteousness? complacent and complicit asshole, walking that boy to his death and then abandoning him. go straight to hell. and to be fair you’re caught between two people who have protected you over and over again. the power dynamics at play are complex and confusing as fuck. I get it. but to not lift a single finger to help, to only lash out with a statement that is both unhelpful and unnecessary… to have harbored a truth (nathaniel’s desire to play exy) and a lie (neil’s future) and have no sense of responsibility?
In AWE at the sheer big dick energy this royal mistress exuded
no offense but like... in revolutionary school, as vicious as musain rule, i got my feelings bruised by the leader in red. And i propped the bar as he told me, "R, you're good for nothing, fool." And i heard every word that he said.
Do y'all have any favorite card games?
I know this is the jaded post-irony website and we all wanna be funny, but I am genuinely asking. Please, tell me about a good memory you have with some loved ones and a stack of standard playing cards.
instant loss 2koma
Seems legit
we all hear about kudzu being introduced as "erosion control" in the South but I don't think contemporary people understand on a gut level what that means
these are images from a 1930s pamphlet that endorsed kudzu, entitled "stop gullies: save your farm"
It was Bad.
Invasive plants need to be understood as part of a much larger cycle of incredible violence against the land.
For context: erosion on that scale occurred as a result of our clear-cutting entire states. The land east of the Mississippi used to be covered in old-growth forest to an extent that we literally can’t imagine anymore, because most of us have never seen a forest over 100 years old. It turns out if you remove all vegetation from a landscape, you end up with a bunch of loose soil ready to move downstream. A fast-growing plant that covers everything in dense vegetation sounds like salvation when you’re surrounded by 40-foot deep gullies that get wider with every rainstorm.
♥️💚 sources: 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6
I feel cheated. no one on Reddit told me that tumblr is a serotonin factory. Keep liking and reblogging my posts please thanks
Just don't fly too close to the sun.
Throw me to the sun and I’ll get it pregnant
he understands the website your honour
The one time that the strong female lead was literally a sexy lamp and it made the narrative
Since it is now pride month, I am allowed to add:
under US law, it's illegal for anyone who's not a member of a recognised native tribe to own an eagle feather. the penalty is a $100,000 fine.
14 years ago when I had recently moved to Alaska, I went hiking with an Aleut friend, and she pointed to a feather lying on the ground and said "hey that's a bald eagle tail feather, you should grab it!" and I was like "uhh I'm very white and that's very illegal" and she went "they're fuckin everywhere up here man. I have 20." so she grabs it off the ground and hands it to me and says "there, now it's a ceremonial gift from an indigenous person."
and I'm like, okay, cool, I guess this is how we do things in Alaska. nice.
so I keep this bald eagle tail feather around for years. display it in my home among other cherished memorabilia from places I've lived and visited, etc.
on a whim, I have just now looked it up. there is no exemption to that law for a ceremonial gift from an indigenous person. the last 7 years I lived in the US, I was technically a bald eagle poacher.
probably a good thing I don't intend to move back there anytime soon. I wonder what the statute of limitations is on bird crimes.
@freedomisscaryshit I'm fucking dying I think you forgot the word "feathers" in your tags?? or do you just wish you could grab whole ass eagles that land in your yard??
As an Indigenous person, it continues to astound me that there are such strict laws (written by White people) in our name, laws against...picking up things just found on the ground. Like, stop pretending this is "for" us. We don't want this.
so, for clarity, that's not what this is. the law against possessing feathers is an anti-poaching measure, derived from a North American treaty protecting certain migratory bird species from hunting. that treaty has an exemption for indigenous people to allow tribes that use eagle feathers in ceremonial or religious practices to continue doing so.
i used to collect feathers (illegally) as a teenager and the thing is that it's incredibly important for feathers from wild birds to be illegal to possess because it ensures that they never become fashionable to wear. the reason we passed the migratory bird act was because the american and european fashion industry was driving species to extinction in a timespan of years. not just decades. the ecological devastation of exporting birds for hats was absolutely insane and people were watching wetlands and forests and meadows just empty out in realtime. look at the wikipedia article for the plume trade.
the law against 'picking feathers up off the ground' means that you can't go shoot an eagle then sell the feathers on etsy by saying you 'just found them'. you can't own them no matter where they came from, which makes sure that they're not going to come from any birds killed and then secretly disposed of.
these laws, as harsh and ridiculous as they seem, saved flamingos, spoonbills, egrets, and all kinds of hawks and eagles from extinction. the minute these laws weaken and people can make money off killing them again, they're fucked.
this is one of those "no actually this regulation exists for a reason" laws much like work place safety and building fire codes (that Republicans keep trying to roll back) and is written in blood just like them as well. it's just not human blood this time, and the fact that people actually cared enough about long term future over short term profit to get it put in place is nothing short of astonishing. That it didn't get put in place in time to save several species is heart breaking.
I think part of getting better is complete ego death. Like you’re not above setting a timer for 5 minutes and focusing on a task. You’re not above doing a very simple 3 minute workout to start. You’re not above reading for 10 minutes a day when you first get out of your reading slump, even if you used to read for hours. You’re not above starting slow and then building up to where you want to be/where you once were. What you are above is total inertia. Doing something really is better than doing nothing. Radically accept where you are, radically accept your limits, and go from there. Don’t let your ego get in the way.
I believe Michael Distortion was overridden for the same reason Peter Lukas died; giving a statement went against the essence of his being. And not only did he give a statement, but he outright asked Jon to take one from him.
The Distortion should be more opposed to giving a statement than an avatar of the Lonely, and yet whatever piece of Michael was still left in there was able to reach out for some form of honest human connection one last time. and that's what killed him.
FEAST, GLADLY / MOON STEALER / WARM BLOODED
i hold werewolves as both a symbol of transformation and of self-actualization; they are the other, and the beast, and they are us. this art was created for october’s print club; it was also created for me (and for you).
Completely personal preference but gonna be real with you, vampires and werewolves and stuff like that just don't hit the same for me without the angst, the guilt, the terror, like what's the point, "oh but what if he was just a puppy," yeah yeah, that's nice, I don't care, what if their very being was tearing them apart from the inside, what if the hunger never stops clawing and clawing and clawing even if you have it under control for the moment, not to say there's not exceptions or variations, those who've come to terms with or revel in their nature or etc., different opportunities for silliness or softness for sure, but to strip *all* manner of horror or discomfort from the lore, it's like wow, where is the appeal, the flavour, I hope you're hungry FOR NOTHING, just like your "vampire" apparently