A conversation w/ a snared fox at the edge of the field

JBB: An Artblog!
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@jack-inthe-green
A conversation w/ a snared fox at the edge of the field
Streaming Live
gifs by riverwindphotography, 2017
Illustration from Viridarium Umbris, The Pleasure-Garden of Shadow.
Posting this again for the spring bird song.
I don't feel particularly proud of myself. But when I walk alone in the woods or lie in the meadows, all is well.
— Franz Kafka, Letters to Friends, Family, and Editors
There is wisdom in the woods. There are blessings in the brooks. 💚🍃
Building a treehouse is the biggest insult to a tree. “I killed your friend, here hold him.”
“Friend”
Its more of I killed a potential enemy. Hold his dismembered corpse in victory.
Plants don’t wage war
Ever heard of blackberries?
Yes, plants do wage war
Mint and strawberries, too. They need to be quarantined or they will kill basically everything else.
I planted mint in the ground 2 years ago.
It’s currently fighting a bitter battle to the death against the raspberries attempting to invade from the east while trying to annex the patio.
Could go either way at this point TBH. Unless, of course, I take a shovel and the blowtorch out there and battle both back to within their original boundaries.
And anyone wondering if a blowtorch is overkill for weeding back mint has never actually planted mint.
This post did not go where I expected it to.
Our garden plot at my childhood home slowly got overrun by wild blackberries after we stopped managing it while my sister and I were in nursing school. And by overrun I mean it was like a 4 foot tall thicket of wild blackberries. It hadn’t been touched by humans in at least 4 years. I started the ultimately futile task of trying to clear this plot with a machete and discovered to my amazement a patch of mint several feet across underneath the canopy of blackberry, still fighting the good fight all those years later.
Ultimately it took two jars of homemade napalm and some creative fire placement to clear that patch but I damn sure saved that patch of mint. It earned the right to be there.
Yall mother fuckers don’t even talk unless you’ve had to wage war on kudzu (it’s an ivy strain directly from Hell) that shit doesn’t just wage war with other plants, it wages war with all living things on planet earth. It’s some gnarly ass Blood for the Blood God, Chlorophyll for the Chlorophyll Throne demon weed.
Can second the comments of Kudzu.
I forget where I read it but there’s this one tree that creates an extremely flammable substance that’s in both the bark and leaves. Dead trees become torches and crushed up leaves become dust-incendiary, all while the plant’s seeds are Giant Redwood levels of resilient to open flame. IE it has a goddamn scorched earth policy. It’s even more badass than plants that use toxins to starve other plants.
I’d like to third the comments on Kudzu. These are the battlefields:
See those weird pillars? Those were trees. See that strange lump in the middle? That was a house. Everything green you see in this photo is kudzu.
Kudzu is an apocalyptic nightmare
They smother every other living plant to death
Those trees under there are dead, they can’t get sunlight. Kudzu takes over and steals everything from these trees, and becomes them. It’s creepy as hell. These plants are basically straight out of a horror novelist’s wet dream tbh.
The bodies of everything the kudzu has slain.
What used to be a house
Someone attempting to drive a four wheeler through it, to give you scale
It’s an ornamental plant kept in check in china, but was introduced to north america where it immediately went rampant and began to spread incredibly fast like a disease, destroying everything in its wake
The ONLY thing that has stopped this curse from engulfing the united states is goats. Apparently goats love this stuff like no tomorrow. Everywhere we find it now, we just bring a horde of goats to cut it down. Everything is fine…. for now.
Kudzu is on time magazine’s top 10 invasive species to look out for.
This little buddy doing his part
Not to keep spamming this post but
“the growth of kudzu as it became a “structural parasite” of the South,[7] enveloping entire structures when untreated[11] and often referred to as “the vine that ate the South”.[13]”
“It has been spreading rapidly in the southern U.S., “easily outpacing the use of herbicide spraying and mowing, as well increasing the costs of these controls by $6 million annually”.[2]“
yall it’s been estimated this plant consumes 600 kilometers of the united states every year
it’s been suggested that we just start eating it to make it go away
Adding to the spam: yes, kudzu IS edible. In fact, all parts of it but the vine are edible. The leaves are supposedly great in salads or baked into quiche. The flowers supposedly are great in jam. The roots… Well, if you know how to cook other root vegetables, you know what to do with kudzu root. Feed this stuff to your livestock and cook it.
Eat it before it eats your house.
@solarpunkcast @solarpunkactionweek @solarpunkinspo @enviropunk feels relevant
In this world it’s eat or be eaten
I dunno what kind of barbarian-ass mint you guys are planting, all the mint I plant goes leggy and scabby and then dies.
this post is too amusing not to share XD
Seriously.
Go out to the woods sometime. Find a big tree, the biggest you can.
Go up to that tree, lay a hand on it, and ask it about what it feels, about how it feels about having won its place. Ask it how it feels about having smothered and shaded out a hundred smaller enemies, and then feasted on their rotting corpses. And that huge ancient oak tree will tell you how sweet triumph tastes, and how death pays for life.
Then find one of the struggling little scraggly trees under that oak, and ask it what it feels, and it will tell you of patience, of endurance, and of how sweet will the bones of the giant taste when the giant falls at last, and gives the sapling its chance.
Plants understand more of triumph, of death, and of how death and life are but two sides of the same coin than most humans ever will.
Building a treehouse is the biggest insult to a tree. “I killed your friend, here hold him.”
“Friend”
Its more of I killed a potential enemy. Hold his dismembered corpse in victory.
Plants don’t wage war
Ever heard of blackberries?
Yes, plants do wage war
Mint and strawberries, too. They need to be quarantined or they will kill basically everything else.
I planted mint in the ground 2 years ago.
It’s currently fighting a bitter battle to the death against the raspberries attempting to invade from the east while trying to annex the patio.
Could go either way at this point TBH. Unless, of course, I take a shovel and the blowtorch out there and battle both back to within their original boundaries.
And anyone wondering if a blowtorch is overkill for weeding back mint has never actually planted mint.
This post did not go where I expected it to.
Our garden plot at my childhood home slowly got overrun by wild blackberries after we stopped managing it while my sister and I were in nursing school. And by overrun I mean it was like a 4 foot tall thicket of wild blackberries. It hadn’t been touched by humans in at least 4 years. I started the ultimately futile task of trying to clear this plot with a machete and discovered to my amazement a patch of mint several feet across underneath the canopy of blackberry, still fighting the good fight all those years later.
Ultimately it took two jars of homemade napalm and some creative fire placement to clear that patch but I damn sure saved that patch of mint. It earned the right to be there.
Yall mother fuckers don’t even talk unless you’ve had to wage war on kudzu (it’s an ivy strain directly from Hell) that shit doesn’t just wage war with other plants, it wages war with all living things on planet earth. It’s some gnarly ass Blood for the Blood God, Chlorophyll for the Chlorophyll Throne demon weed.
Can second the comments of Kudzu.
I forget where I read it but there’s this one tree that creates an extremely flammable substance that’s in both the bark and leaves. Dead trees become torches and crushed up leaves become dust-incendiary, all while the plant’s seeds are Giant Redwood levels of resilient to open flame. IE it has a goddamn scorched earth policy. It’s even more badass than plants that use toxins to starve other plants.
I’d like to third the comments on Kudzu. These are the battlefields:
See those weird pillars? Those were trees. See that strange lump in the middle? That was a house. Everything green you see in this photo is kudzu.
Kudzu is an apocalyptic nightmare
They smother every other living plant to death
Those trees under there are dead, they can’t get sunlight. Kudzu takes over and steals everything from these trees, and becomes them. It’s creepy as hell. These plants are basically straight out of a horror novelist’s wet dream tbh.
The bodies of everything the kudzu has slain.
What used to be a house
Someone attempting to drive a four wheeler through it, to give you scale
It’s an ornamental plant kept in check in china, but was introduced to north america where it immediately went rampant and began to spread incredibly fast like a disease, destroying everything in its wake
The ONLY thing that has stopped this curse from engulfing the united states is goats. Apparently goats love this stuff like no tomorrow. Everywhere we find it now, we just bring a horde of goats to cut it down. Everything is fine…. for now.
Kudzu is on time magazine’s top 10 invasive species to look out for.
This little buddy doing his part
Not to keep spamming this post but
“the growth of kudzu as it became a “structural parasite” of the South,[7] enveloping entire structures when untreated[11] and often referred to as “the vine that ate the South”.[13]”
“It has been spreading rapidly in the southern U.S., “easily outpacing the use of herbicide spraying and mowing, as well increasing the costs of these controls by $6 million annually”.[2]“
yall it’s been estimated this plant consumes 600 kilometers of the united states every year
it’s been suggested that we just start eating it to make it go away
Adding to the spam: yes, kudzu IS edible. In fact, all parts of it but the vine are edible. The leaves are supposedly great in salads or baked into quiche. The flowers supposedly are great in jam. The roots… Well, if you know how to cook other root vegetables, you know what to do with kudzu root. Feed this stuff to your livestock and cook it.
Eat it before it eats your house.
@solarpunkcast @solarpunkactionweek @solarpunkinspo @enviropunk feels relevant
In this world it’s eat or be eaten
They’re currently making some headway in turning kudzu into biofuel, and an acre of kudzu yields more ethanol than an acre of corn. Unfortunately, very few farmers are willing to participate, since the harvesting kudzu is pretty difficult unless you plant fields of it intentionally, since you can’t risk crashing your expensive harvester into something the kudzu buried. And the last thing anyone wants is to plant more of it.
Btw, it grows so fast that you can actually watch it grow. It moves about as fast as the minute hand of a clock.
The man near the buffet is terribly thin - nearly emaciated, and it's not helped by the unfitting lines of his cheap black suit. His hair is dark auburn and seems to have been slicked down with some form of product. His mask is a simple white surgical mask, stretched over his mouth. He stares at the buffet the way a drowning man looks at the island that's too far to swim.
Jack’s also at the buffet, quietly taking some fingerfoods. He’s dressed in a tan leather vest, green pants, and a mask shaped like a maple leaf, with a pair of vine-draped antlers on top of his head. He pauses when he sees the gentleman in the suit, though. “You don’t have to dance to earn your meal, you know. Dig in.”
“The Stacks are within Book’s, which surely was on any good map of our city from our end of things. The shop and its owner, while not safe by default, aren’t malevolent. The Stacks might be, if they’re smart enough to be.”
“That’s….” He takes a moment to recover. “…Is the bank evil, t- never mind. I just realized what I was asking.”
“This one is worse than most. It’s run by bad mages who use predatory lending practices to keep people too worried about mundane concerns to ever Awaken as mages.”
A moment of confusion, then a slow nod. “Who turns people into Mages? What do you have to give them?”
“That’s getting into theory and theology and cosmology there. Uh, short answer is ‘no one’.”
The man near the buffet is terribly thin - nearly emaciated, and it's not helped by the unfitting lines of his cheap black suit. His hair is dark auburn and seems to have been slicked down with some form of product. His mask is a simple white surgical mask, stretched over his mouth. He stares at the buffet the way a drowning man looks at the island that's too far to swim.
Jack’s also at the buffet, quietly taking some fingerfoods. He’s dressed in a tan leather vest, green pants, and a mask shaped like a maple leaf, with a pair of vine-draped antlers on top of his head. He pauses when he sees the gentleman in the suit, though. “You don’t have to dance to earn your meal, you know. Dig in.”
“The Stacks are within Book’s, which surely was on any good map of our city from our end of things. The shop and its owner, while not safe by default, aren’t malevolent. The Stacks might be, if they’re smart enough to be.”
“That’s….” He takes a moment to recover. “…Is the bank evil, t- never mind. I just realized what I was asking.”
“This one is worse than most. It’s run by bad mages who use predatory lending practices to keep people too worried about mundane concerns to ever Awaken as mages.”
The man near the buffet is terribly thin - nearly emaciated, and it's not helped by the unfitting lines of his cheap black suit. His hair is dark auburn and seems to have been slicked down with some form of product. His mask is a simple white surgical mask, stretched over his mouth. He stares at the buffet the way a drowning man looks at the island that's too far to swim.
Jack’s also at the buffet, quietly taking some fingerfoods. He’s dressed in a tan leather vest, green pants, and a mask shaped like a maple leaf, with a pair of vine-draped antlers on top of his head. He pauses when he sees the gentleman in the suit, though. “You don’t have to dance to earn your meal, you know. Dig in.”
“The Stacks are within Book’s, which surely was on any good map of our city from our end of things. The shop and its owner, while not safe by default, aren’t malevolent. The Stacks might be, if they’re smart enough to be.”
The man near the buffet is terribly thin - nearly emaciated, and it's not helped by the unfitting lines of his cheap black suit. His hair is dark auburn and seems to have been slicked down with some form of product. His mask is a simple white surgical mask, stretched over his mouth. He stares at the buffet the way a drowning man looks at the island that's too far to swim.
Jack’s also at the buffet, quietly taking some fingerfoods. He’s dressed in a tan leather vest, green pants, and a mask shaped like a maple leaf, with a pair of vine-draped antlers on top of his head. He pauses when he sees the gentleman in the suit, though. “You don’t have to dance to earn your meal, you know. Dig in.”
“I get that, man. But…part of all of us being comfortable here is that even our hungriest man-skank takes a ‘no’ for keeps, if it’s delivered to him. Boundaries are important.”
A slow nod. “Then no. I do not want to talk about why I left. It’s… private.”
“Alright. Welcome anyway. You planning to stay, or just hanging out for a bit? Or not decided yet–that might be a better answer for some people.”
“I… hope to stay, for a while.” He looks around again, seemingly less out of paranoia than… something else. “It seems… nice, here.”
“Well, good. Without totally revealing my identity, if you want to meet me mask-off sometime, come to Kingswood. It’s a neighborhood south and west of here.”
“Kingswood… yes. I think I know the place.” He examines the other man. “Not a wealthy area, is it.”
“No, it’s not. But it’s safe. It’s also not territory claimed by any court, if that affects your feelings on it.”
The man snorts at “safe,” but doesn’t directly comment. “I might look around, he says.” He stares at the buffet for another couple seconds, then takes a sip of water. “What isn’t safe, here?”
Jack ticks off the answers on his fingers. “Grimmick Alley, The Stacks, the North Woods if you don’t call ahead, Memento Mori and Mako Records, The Flaming Skull bar, Merris-Cooperville Bank, Rhyme, Yesterday in the presence of technology, the weather if Boreas is back in town, and most of us if you’re a threat to those we care about.”
The man near the buffet is terribly thin - nearly emaciated, and it's not helped by the unfitting lines of his cheap black suit. His hair is dark auburn and seems to have been slicked down with some form of product. His mask is a simple white surgical mask, stretched over his mouth. He stares at the buffet the way a drowning man looks at the island that's too far to swim.
Jack’s also at the buffet, quietly taking some fingerfoods. He’s dressed in a tan leather vest, green pants, and a mask shaped like a maple leaf, with a pair of vine-draped antlers on top of his head. He pauses when he sees the gentleman in the suit, though. “You don’t have to dance to earn your meal, you know. Dig in.”
“I get that, man. But…part of all of us being comfortable here is that even our hungriest man-skank takes a ‘no’ for keeps, if it’s delivered to him. Boundaries are important.”
A slow nod. “Then no. I do not want to talk about why I left. It’s… private.”
“Alright. Welcome anyway. You planning to stay, or just hanging out for a bit? Or not decided yet–that might be a better answer for some people.”
“I… hope to stay, for a while.” He looks around again, seemingly less out of paranoia than… something else. “It seems… nice, here.”
“Well, good. Without totally revealing my identity, if you want to meet me mask-off sometime, come to Kingswood. It’s a neighborhood south and west of here.”
“Kingswood… yes. I think I know the place.” He examines the other man. “Not a wealthy area, is it.”
“No, it’s not. But it’s safe. It’s also not territory claimed by any court, if that affects your feelings on it.”
The man near the buffet is terribly thin - nearly emaciated, and it's not helped by the unfitting lines of his cheap black suit. His hair is dark auburn and seems to have been slicked down with some form of product. His mask is a simple white surgical mask, stretched over his mouth. He stares at the buffet the way a drowning man looks at the island that's too far to swim.
Jack’s also at the buffet, quietly taking some fingerfoods. He’s dressed in a tan leather vest, green pants, and a mask shaped like a maple leaf, with a pair of vine-draped antlers on top of his head. He pauses when he sees the gentleman in the suit, though. “You don’t have to dance to earn your meal, you know. Dig in.”
“I get that, man. But…part of all of us being comfortable here is that even our hungriest man-skank takes a ‘no’ for keeps, if it’s delivered to him. Boundaries are important.”
A slow nod. “Then no. I do not want to talk about why I left. It’s… private.”
“Alright. Welcome anyway. You planning to stay, or just hanging out for a bit? Or not decided yet–that might be a better answer for some people.”
“I… hope to stay, for a while.” He looks around again, seemingly less out of paranoia than… something else. “It seems… nice, here.”
“Well, good. Without totally revealing my identity, if you want to meet me mask-off sometime, come to Kingswood. It’s a neighborhood south and west of here.”