#BloodGold

[sunlight-through-the-trees]

the sheer intimacy of seeing someone's true side, their real feelings... being there in the evening, when everyone's gone, with the blind's closed, and holding the other in your arms... being allowed to see all the vulnerable and ugly parts. like they opened their ribcage and allowed you to look inside.

how, even when it's all over, when the ugly parts became too much, you still look back on those moments with tenderness. how you still love them, in those moments.

[noe10vg]

Blood & Gold (2023) ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆

[ukdamo]

On The End of the Iliad

Rowan Ricardo Phillips

They brandished their births like spears. Being there wasn’t enough. Their names Needed their fathers and their cities And their spears and the red air of Ilium.

There’s Apisaon lying on his liver As it curdles and leaks out rib-mangled From his wound like a clicking tongue In froth, mind-deep in its porn.

A grey scholar near the end of his talk Pauses, turns hazel in the maze of his thoughts, And as he gazes out the window asks, Why would the father at the end of the Iliad

Peer into Achilles’ tent and, through the bloodgold fire And smoke-slow seafog, pismire and simply stare At his son’s stupendous butcher? He waits for an answer from the weather.

He kneels before the cancelling hands of Achilles That did what they do to the dead of his son Because they could; and he kisses them. The father is our first noble disaster.

He knows his role. He knows he’ll beg. (Though not for the life: the life’s already gristle.) He’ll beg for the body. He’ll beg like a pagan for the body.

Even those who survive Achilles don’t. Priam returned, finally, to Troy’s dented doors And with every step he took toward the parting gold ruin,

Hollowed-out Hector bucked up and down on his back.

Even iridescent Helen, a trail Of billowing silks, poured herself From her paramour’s arms And descended with the rest to see

The sieged city surging to see its broken Breaker of horses. Half shout: “Hope!” Half bray: “Brave patriot’s sacrifice!” But Priam can’t bear to look at them.

He only looks back dimly at the door.

[corvidserpens]

Lynel’s Return

Note: to be revised (eventually), but posted for now.

prologue: part 1/2

Centuries ago the Lynel race that was born from death mountain battled over everything: territory, food, women, and above else love. At the height of the wars between the races, the ‘civilized’ races such as the Rito, the Zora, the Gorons, and the Hylians discovered advanced war made from ancient technologies and magic tools, whereas the Lynels, in turn, mastered archery, metalwork, and gained a natural resistance to all elements. Even with the advancements of the ‘civilized’ races they could not best the Lynels and lost. Though let it be known the Lynels didn't go attacking any of the other races unprovoked they were always fair when it came to their battles never fighting those weaker than them or travelers unless they proved themselves a threat to the younger Lynels. For the Lynels battles were more than just fighting, battles to them are a way of life, a sacred practice between opponents. It was only when the ‘civilized’ races encroached on the Lynel’s territory and killed the weaker Lynels from their race did Lynels battle against the ‘civilized’ races. The golden goddess Hylia grew displeased with the Lynels methods and actions against her chosen people, the Hylians, and evoked her divine power to drive most of the Lynel race from Hyrule. The remaining few Lynels that grew trapped in Hyrule’s lands were altered into mindless beasts by the effects of Hylia’s divine might, and it grew only worse for those few Lynels as Calamity Ganon took over rendering the from mindless beasts into complete monsters. That is until now as the divine power that banishes Lynels from Hyrule weakens it ushers forth the return of the Lynel race back to Hyrule; but with their return, they are not the same as before and evolved to never be bested in both mind, magic, and battle.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Life is forever in combat in death. Say once you reach the afterlife if you were given the generous opportunity to reincarnate as anything you wish to be in your next life. Would you choose to be reborn as a royal? A member of the opposite sex? A hero? An animal? Or perhaps a simple plant? This story begins after the birth of a very unique Lynel and the return of the Lynel race to Hyrule.

The thundering of hooves slamming into the dry, packed earth and stone, kicking up huge clouds of red dust trailed behind the large herd of Lynels traversing up and past the mountainous path to Hyrule. Lynels of every color were running together with weapons on their backs bumping against each other occasionally as they ran. The higher ranking Lynels were adorned with armor and weapons while the lowes ranking Lynels carried the food and supplies for the move back to their homeland. Leading the herd of fierce Lynels was a large gold and red Lynel with a traditional Lynel weapon and their humanoid torso covered from head to waist in armor. It was early in the morning when the Lynels finally arrived back in Hyrule after all these years. 

“Come now we rest for water than we must locate our scattered brethren and reconnect with them.” the large red and gold Lynel commanded.

The surrounding Lynels huffed and snorted in response to the leading Lynels command and began to take their rest. Some Lynels leisurely headed over to the river to drink while others dramatically flopped to the ground on their sides. Four larger-than-average silver male Lynels approached the armored red and gold Lynel.

“Player Bloodgold. What is our next course of action after our rest?” the largest amongst the silver Lynels asked in a deep growling rumble.

“Ah, Moonmane, for our next course of action we will continue our course reoining with our lost brethren according to what the scouts have reported there are 22 other Lynels around Hyrule we will spit into five teams. The four groups will be lead by you, Stormcaller, Lightmane, and Silentshadow. Moonmane you shall take the north, Stormcaller you shall take the south, Lightmane you shall take the west and Silentshadow you shall take the east. As for me I will lead the fifth group around Hyrule to find a suitable area for our tribe to reclaim and set up as our territory. I’ll announce this to the rest of the tribe once rest time is over.” the red and gold Lynel known as Player rumbled out the instructions to the four silver Lynels.

The silver Lynels huffed in acknowledgement of Player’s commands before dispersing to rest before they have to continue further. Player scanned the Lynels ensuring nothing was wrong and went to take a drink before rating near the tribe yet staying on guard for any potential threats. As an hour passed the herd of Lynels grew more relaxed and rested with a few stretching out on the ground to bask in the sun. That should be enough rest time.

Lifting up their armored frame Player stretches before standing tall and releasing a roar to garner the attention of their tribe.

“All right everyone! We’ll be heading out in five groups, four of the groups will be heading out to reconnect with our lost brethren and the fifth group will be joining me to claim a new territory for our tribe to prosper. The four groups are Moonmane who is taking the north, Stormcaller is taking the south, Lightmane is taking the west and Silentshadow is taking the east. If everyone is ready then let’s head out!” Player announced in a strong and steady voice.

With a slight rumbling of hooves, the four groups started heading to their destinations to find their brethren. And the rest that remained were mostly younger Lynels such as cubs and those who have just barely reached adulthood. With a rolling growl from Player the groups head out following behind where Player leads. A quick sniff of the air confirmed the weather of the area the wind blew in from and so Player began to lead the herd south east.

The path was overall peaceful with a few monsters that spotted the herd running away at the sight of the Lynel herd. Funnily enough on the path the herd passed by a traveler who was frozen stiff at the site of the herd passing by with one of the younger Lynels doing a cute mewling roar at the traveler only to be swept up by their parent Lynel away from the traveler. It took from midday to sunset before the herd finally stopped just slightly west from Hateno village to settle down. With one fierce yet short roar the herd came to a stop. A quick survey of the area confirmed that this is the perfect place to claim as the Lynel’s territory. There are plenty of mountains around to climb and call out to other Lynels and it wasn’t to far from death mountain if the view was anything to go bye, and fortunately it wasn’t too close to have to deal with the moisture of the Zora’s domain or the issues of living so close to the Hylian’s castle.

“This shall be our new territory. The prey is plentiful, the water is clean, and there are plenty of mountains around to carve our homes into. So now everyone rest and set up for this shall be our home from now on!”

At Player’s command, the herd began to settle down, some carving out their lairs for themselves and their mates while others kept watch of the area and the cubs, and the more energetic ones went hunting nearby for any large game for a feast in celebration of our new territory. As time passed and Lynels were finishing setting up their homes a few decided to flop down to their sides and roll in the grass or started to play fight butting horns and wrestling. 

Only after relishing in the breeze blowing through my fur as the warm sunset began to fall into night did I decide to move and alert the nearest Lynel with a grumbling horse-like whine to watch over the tribe while I patrol the area for any nocturnal threats. As I prowled off to the surrounding forests I wandered around the area twice; but just as I was about to return my ears swiveled at the sound of the blood moon ridding the air grew thick with bloodlust turning the very night sky red and malignant with corruption. With the blood moon came the sound in the distance of where the road to a village called Hateno village lay, the screeching of a mass hoard of Keeses and the rattling of stalkoblins, nothing unusual there until I heard a most unusual yet familiar piercing and hoarse battle cry.

“HHHYYYAAAHHHhh” 

[skinnyredheadsposts]

PESADELO 19/01/2018

Acordei em algum lugar depois com medo já exausta de subir um certo lance de escadas, fugindo de algo, meu desespero era tanto que eu não sabia onde estava,era tudo escuro , todos os lugares em que eu olhava era tomado pela escuridão , tudo negro ,meus olhos não viam nada alem do preto , meu inferno ????? Sera eu me pergunto. Começo correr em alguma direção mais tudo é em vão ,não vejo nada nada alem do preto, começo a ouvir vozes ,vozes que me chamam ,LOLLITAAAAA,LOLLITAAA ,LOLLITA , essas vozes me dão medo , corro pro outro lado mais nada adianta escuto elas ao meu encontro medo mais medo estou  fugindo na escuridão mais não sei do que aonde estou apenas uma rua deserta cheia de lodo asfalto velho feio ............................. Essa voz chega mais perto me deparo no chão caída , com os braços em volta do meus joelhos, encolhida em um lugar que eu não sei aonde é , o que é , só vejo eu nítida com medo , medo do que ?????????????? Sinto algo pegajoso mas minhas mãos e pés ,quando pego é algo com cheiro horrível, sensação grudenta , algo que estava em putrefação mais não sei o que é , quando vejo uma luz , vou correndo ate ela , vejo que em minhas mãos havia sangue , meus braços e pernas estavam com vermelhidão ,vermelho podre, grito , gritooo ,mais minha voz não saia , grito mais e mais , mais nada sai , estava sufocada com meus ecos internos , presa , quando consigo emitir algo parecido com um som só digo ;- VOCÊ?  E saio na direção da luz passo ela mais a escuridão volta e me leva com ela , algo me cobre com um manto escuro , que me faz enxergar nada tudo se apago novamente a luz morreu comigo , essa luz findou-se , fugir em minhas mãos , escorreu pelos meus dedos ,mão , corpos , olhos foi.............sera que morri ?MEPERGUNTO CONSTANTEMENTE TEM MAIS DETALHES SO NÃO LEMBRO BEM CERTO ATEO PROXIMO DIA .

[unnameablethings]

sunlight and allegiance

The bone-king, tall and shadowed, comes to the knight and asks, “Will you aid me?”

The answer is no, of course, will always be no, should always be no. Sunflor is the last shining bastion of what came before the god-king, and she will not bow her head. Her sun-king is dead, and the bone-king killed him, and only his seat on the throne and her oaths prevent her from taking his head off. She stands in the doorway of her quarters (inside the bone-king’s castle, inside the home that has been conquered,) and she knows that “no” is not an answer she can give, so instead she says nothing. Her face, however, betrays her. 

The bone-king winces, just the slightest twitch of his sharp-angled face. 

“Please. Lady Knight. They will listen to you, if they listen to none other, and I am so weary of bloodshed. Are you not weary?”

“There would be no bloodshed,” she says, very carefully, “If you had never come here.” 

The bone-king’s expression is… tired. Old, and drawn. She doesn’t know how old he is - he seems ageless, ancient and young all at once. “Of course there would be. Why else did you exist? A king doesn’t keep a land-blessed knight of sunlight and death unless he intends to use her for the slaughter. Are you telling me you had never killed before I came from the west?”

Sunflor says nothing, again, stubbornly silent. It’s not the same, she wants to say. That was keeping the peace, not war. I only slaughtered things like you. Threats. Monsters. Instead she drops her gaze to the floor, avoiding his old, dark eyes. 

“Need I make this an order?” the bone-king asks, very gently. Sunflor’s jaw clenches, works in a convulsive scowl. She is sworn to the throne, not the man who sits on it. It was meant to make her a peerless, unbiased warrior, but it feels, now, like a weakness. She wants to throttle him, wants to reach down his throat and tear out the way things used to be, as though he had swallowed it whole and unharmed. But she cannot disobey an order from her king, however little he has earned the title. 

“No. What do you need?”

“Thank you,” the bone-king says. He sounds relieved. She does not look at him, though the oath-bond pings with the righteous satisfaction of her fealty. It used to be one of her favorite feelings - it makes her sick, now. “Some parts of my land are still restless under my touch, and the kingdom loves you so much it burns. Come and help me coax it? Let us settle this gently, and with peace. I dislike the thought of having to stamp it down into fearful submission.”

“As you wish, my lord,” says Sunflor, because she is bound, and because she recognizes, through the haze of her rage and her grief, that it is better this way. Her king is dead, and a part of her is dead along with him, but no one else need die unnecessarily. 

He brings her first of all down into the labyrinths of the castle, where Sunflor would follow her sun-king when he did his rituals and his prayers. She knelt by his side, gave him her strength when he faltered, let him pull draughts of power from her like blood. She is almost nostalgic for the dizzy, giddy emptiness of being drained, of being filled instead with sunlight and the slow earth-love of a country. Not enough to want the bone-king to do it, though. She has no choice. 

The bone-king exhales, when they’re down in the wide, circular ritual-room, with the map of the kingdom stretched over the floor. There’s sunlight shining into the room from a window in the ceiling, though they’re dozens of feet below ground. The bone-king looks up at the sunlit window, inquisitive.

“A lovely working. Do you know the spell?” he murmurs, and stretches his fingers out to let the sun shine on them. Sunflor wishes for it to burn him, but it doesn’t. Just filters through his scarred fingers, making the webs between them glow faintly red, beams of light in the gaps. His flesh is slightly translucent, only the bones and the scars solid and pale.  

“It is a place of the sun,” Sunflor says, shortly, and kneels in the place where she always kneels, where generations before her have knelt. Had they ever knelt here and hated like she hates the bone-king? Stupid question. Of course they have. The kingdom is nothing if not ever besieged by conflict. They hardly go three or four generations without an upset - her own sun-king was only a second-generation dynastic king, and she knows the knight before the knight before her had ended up falling on her own blade, distraught by the loss of her queen. There is a strange comfort in the solidarity of a generational anguish.

Deep breaths. In. Out. The sunlight is warm, golden. The room is ritually hushed, and the scent of old blood and incense and dust fills her nose. It’s familiar, reassuring, down to the faint grooves in the stone from where thousands of years of knights before her have knelt in the same place. She has a duty to her country, not only to her king, and she will fulfill it until she can no longer. The kingdom cradles her in its stone, and she draws strength from it. 

The bone-king, watching, turns at last to stand over the map, closes his eyes, holding his hands out like he’s feeling along the top of a table. His hands are not callused in the way of one who wields a weapon, but blackened in forking patterns like lightning, from magic overuse. His fingertips are all scorched to a charcoal black. Those are recent - when she had battled the bone-king merely months ago, he had had much less prominent scarring. They are scars likely acquired in the battle against the sun-king, then. At least they managed to scar him.

“Here,” he murmurs, finally, hands poised above a part of the map like invisible strings tug his fingers down, and he crouches to touch a particular region on the map. He opens his eyes, and studies the landscape painted intricately beneath him. The knight watches him, looking from his face to the map and back. It does not surprise her that that particular demesne is giving him trouble - not when the forest loves its lady so much.

“What are your thoughts, lady knight?” the bone-king asks. 

“That is the demesne of Lady Lily-greenery,” the knight says. “Her sister, Violet, was slain at your hand.”

“I see.”

“She was one of the sorceresses in the king’s guard, and they were very close,” the knight says. “Not as close as some-” close as he and I- “but. Close.”

“I see,” the bone-king says again, quieter. “Well. There’s not much I can do about that, now. I’ll play bloodgold to the lady, if you think it will help?”

“She’ll consider it an insult. The gold you bought with her sister’s death? No.” 

“Mm. A wise consideration, Sunflor.”

“Do not use my name,” Sunflor snaps, and hears her voice break. “You haven’t earned it. Don’t you dare.”

There’s a long, fraught pause. “Apologies, Lady Knight,” the bone-king breathes, almost a whisper. It’s a concession she hadn’t expected from him, and she breathes in deep, breathes out the anger and sorrow. 

“If you want her to support you, then you need to show her respect, and show her forest respect,” she says, as though nothing particularly interesting had happened. “She lost a lot, in the war effort. A lot of her forest’s vitality was drained to shore up the borders and strengthen the soldiers.”

“I’ll send her some of that power back, then. Weakens the remaining military resources that are undoubtedly brewing dissent, and strengthens a possible ally. And helps me fix the absolute mess my predecessor has made of this beautiful thing,” the bone-king says, and runs a gentle hand along the map. 

“He didn’t,” Sunflor says, but it sounds like a lie to her own ears, a childish protest. It is not as though she hasn’t lain awake at night for years, hearing the kingdom in discomfort and weakness, knowing that it was stretched too far. She shifts in her kneeling, feeling herself sore to the bone though the kneeling hasn’t bothered her since she was knighted. “He did his best,” she amends.

“His best wasn’t very good,” the bone-king says, and looks steadily at her, eyes dark. His expression is opaque, unreadable. “He sought conquest and glory and didn’t have the means to manage it. I would never have bothered coming if he had not tried to conquer me in the first place, and I never would have succeeded against a kingdom as powerful as this if he had not already overextended it and strained its power and its patience.”

“The kingdom loves him,” Sunflor says. Her throat feels swollen and thick, and her hands fist in her lap. “It gave all it could for him because it loved him.”

“The kingdom loves you.” The bone-king’s stare is nameless, uncomfortably tender. “You gave all you could for him.”

“Not enough, clearly.”

“His weakness is not your fault.”

“His death is yours.”

The bone-king acknowledges this with a tilt of his head. “I am sorry.”

She laughs, ugly and shattered. It sounds wrong in the peaceful stillness of the ritual room, like a crow’s broken cackle. “Are you, my lord?” 

He stands from the map, shrugs off his cloak and holds his hand out over the ugly seething of the forest’s magic. The trees sprout up from the map, the flat surface rising to give way to infinitely small trees, a mass of greenery. The sunlight in the room goes strange, and she feels magic brewing, simultaneously familiar and repellant. It is the comforting kingdom-magic at the same time as it is the cold, dark grave-magic of an enemy she has been fighting for years, now, and it itches at her like a scabbing wound. 

It curls from the god-king’s fingertips, twining into the forest’s magic and settling in it. She feels it resist, struggle, but he does not fight back, even as it reaches for him in violence and fury. She watches his hands - he flinches, barely, when the magic sinks thorns into him, but he does not pull away. He merely offers the gift in open palms until the forest finally swallows it, and settles down. 

“My condolences for your loss,” he speaks, into the whispering of the forest. “And my utmost respect and honor for your sister’s battle prowess. She fought well. I regret her death. I hope this goes some small way towards amends.”

The forest takes the message, and subsides back into the map, smoothing out. A discordant note in the kingdom’s magic quiets, turns a little further toward the main body of it. 

“I regret that I caused you pain, lady knight,” the bone-king says, without looking at her. “I do not regret the sun-king’s death.” 

“What could I possibly matter to you?” 

“I underestimated the effect the kingdom’s power would have on me,” the bone-king says, instead of answering. 

Perhaps, however, it is an answer after all. 

The bone-king’s face is creased, sweat beading on his forehead. There are new pinpricks of red scars on his hands, and this is the point at which Sunflor would usually lend her power and her aid, let her king brace himself against her as the sturdy anchor-point of might and magic. She does not offer. The bone-king does not ask. 

“May I go?” Sunflor asks, at last.

“...You may. I will need you again, though.”

“I am aware.” 

Though her fealty-bond keens when she turns her back on the bone-king, alerting her he is in need of aid/strength/his knight, she does not listen. She climbs the stairs away from him, and does not look back. 

(I FORGOT I HAVE AN @ LIST... it’s from 2018 so it’s very probably outdated rip. sorry if you get mentioned when you did not want to be! @trishaloach @toastyglow @acefruitloop @skye07 @m1sosazai @yoyoendlessstring @blue-tomatoes @catsfeminismandatla @lady-redshield-writes @alhena09 @emanonnosrep, @je11yfish-queen @gingerly-writing @dramaticvoiceover @writingmyselfintoanearlygrave @authorisada @reciclingbin @lushprocrastinatrix @timeenoughforamasterpiece @tedrakitty @haphazardlyparked @kiwisoap @silver56 @pacifiedperoxide @kooncat @severe-fangirl-syndrome @startledserpent  @50-shaeds-of-fae @stritte @dorianelle @dhawandyke @churchyardgrim)

[dimespin]

I looked at my chart of L. dexter color morphs, called myself a coward and redesigned Vulture (Vulture is queen BloodGold's drone boyfriend)

[zeldah-legendof]

🎲I'm a boss, you a worker bitch I make bloody moves ⚡️👠🐉🔥🍷💰💉🔱🃏👁‍🗨🏁@cheetahshollywood NOW!!!#makeupbyme #bloodgold #fuego #puddin #bikinidancer #glitterscalp #bathroomselfie #atworkbored #whiteolive #skintone #yellow #redlipstick #pinkeye (at Cheetahs Club Hollywood)

[askarthurgabriel]

The New Student

It was the spring semester and school was back in session. Class one was home room and the teacher, Ms. Willows, was about to give announcements when the dean of students, Ms. Bloodgold, walked in cradling her head and cleared her throat. Some of the students either stopped, or simmered down. "Now. Welcome back from a thrilling vacation, as, I'm sure your holiday was. But, I'm here to introduce you to a new student. A foreign exchange student from Mexico, please welcome Mr. Arana."

A small boy slowly stepped through the doorframe. He had eight amber/gold colored eyes, two main larger main eyes and six smaller eyes, visible mandibles at the mouth, dark brown mane like hair with streaks of orange, he was wearing what seemed to a red silk vest with long white sleeves, a leather shoulder bag at his side, black pants with buttons running along the side, and somewhat pointy boots to complete the ensamble. "Now, Mr. Arana," walking over to Ms. Willows, "if you have any questions, please feel free to either ask Ms. Willows, or, any of the students." He sheepishly stepped aside and took the nearest empty seat. His eyes seemed to dart around the room a bit before settling in. "Otherwise, welcome to Monster High."

[frith-inle]

Bloodgold by Culpeo-Fox

[mmwm]

I attended day three (Friday) of the Boston Flower Show this year. The show was presented, as usual for 5 days, from Wednesday, 22 March, to Sunday, 26 March, at the Boston World Trade Center in the Seaport. There were actually more interesting-sounding lectures scheduled for other days — “Nibbling on Natives in Your Backyard & Beyond,” “Growing and Using Edible Flowers,” “Growing Food in Urban Settings,”, “Superheroes of Our New England Foodscapes,” “Ecological Landscaping: New Trends in Landscape Design and Management,” “A Camel’s Garden: Planning & Planting for Drought,” “The Benefits of Botanical, Compost and Enzyme Teas” —  but Friday was the day that worked for me, and I looked forward to “Striking, Uncommon Plants and Awe-Inspiring Design Tips” by Kerry Mendez, who lives in Kennebunk, ME, and particularly to “Permaculture Gardening: Learn to Work with Nature to Create an Integrated Ecological Design on Your Landscape” by Marie Stella, a landscape historian and designer who lives in LEED House in Shelburne Falls, MA.

Mendez is a dynamic and organized speaker. Her slides are instructive and beautiful. She provided the audience with a handout of suggested plants and some design tips (though the audience was so large that only about half those attending got the handout), and her ideas were genuinely different from the run-of-the-mill perennials and shrubs often plants recommended.

(I particularly like the Fine Line and had to take a photo of that slide. Here it is in my garden, in May 2015. I have only one so far, but I love the idea of using it in place of tall grasses for a longer season of display:

)

*

On the other hand, Stella’s permaculture talk was disappointing. I have no doubt that she walks the talk and has done great things with her property, and I liked her emphasis on experimentation. But the lecture was not a success, in my opinion.

To begin with, the topic advertised as the lecture title (“Permaculture Gardening: Learn to Work with Nature to Create an Integrated Ecological Design on Your Landscape”) was not the same as the topic of the actual lecture, which was “A Permaculture Perspective: Hydrology at Beaver Lodge.” Huh? There were many fewer in the audience to start with than at other talks I noticed that day, and more than a handful of us left within the first half-hour. I wasn’t clear what audience Stella had geared her talk for. I assumed that, given the advertised title, it would be mostly people who didn’t know much about permaculture and wanted an introduction. But instead of giving us the permaculture basics, she alternated between talking about her house and property — with emphasis on collecting, storing, and using water as sustainably as possible — and throwing up a few hard-to-see text slides of unclear permaculture principles and concepts (which she didn’t say much about), USDA maps and climate info,  and poor photographs of her yard, pond, and gardens.

The cute beaver in her beaver pond:

In contrast to Mendez’s dynamism, organisation, useful slides, and inspiring content, Stella’s lecture was disorganised, her slides did little to illuminate her words, and her scattered delivery confused me. It’s probably fun and instructive to visit and tour her property with her, but there are many other permaculture speakers who would have been better able to deliver an Intro to Permaculture talk with copious examples (and great photos) from their yards and lives. It was doubly disappointing because this was the only overtly permaculture module in the show — though there are talks featuring mushroom cultivation, soil, organics, native plants, etc. — and it would have been a great opportunity to inspire people to learn more.

*

On to the designs, displays, and plants! Of which, while I’m finding fault, there are never enough; I overheard a lot of folks noticing how few gardens and how many vendors there are at the show. That evening, I ran into a saleswoman at Copley Mall who had come to the show on Thursday for the first time, with her mother; they were both surprised to find that it was mostly things for sale, with the gardens taking up about 1/4 of the total show floor space. I don’t know how the show can incorporate more gardens, plants, and designs, but I think they should consider it, at least removing the vendors who have nothing to do with gardening, yard care, or flowers and who aren’t giving away or selling food and drink.

*

Unusually for me, this year I really didn’t have a favourite display garden. In fact, after all that railing about too many vendors, I actually thought Hudson Valley Seed Company had one the best displays in the main area, partnering their beautifully illustrated seed packets with the original artwork and the plant grown from the seed. A brilliant idea!

artwork and seed packet covers for Blue Jade sweet corn, Emerite pole beans, and Long Island Cheese pumpkin

artwork and seed packet art for stinging nettle and Shanghai baby bok choy seeds … and a woman whose clothes match the art!

Sweet Siberian watermelon art and seed packet

Nozaki Chinese cabbage watercolour, seed packet, and plant

Midnight Garden flower mix seed packet and owl art (night-blooming annual flowers: Candytuft, White Four O’Clocks, White Cosmos, Sweet Mignonette, Bishop’s Flower, Evening Scented Stock, Sensation Mixed Nicotiana)

Above, spotted trout lettuce art and seed packet (photo credit: T. Williams).

Bishop’s Children dahlia and lemon balm seeds, art, plants

*

Samantha’s Gardens and Jamaica Cottage Shop went in on a display together, with Samantha’s Gardens providing the plantings for Jamaica Cottage Shop’s tiny house, which could be toured. In fact, the first time I tried to get into the tiny house, the line was too long (extends much farther than shown),

but when I came back around 4:15, I got right in. The house, at 8×16 feet (128 sq. ft., plus two tiny lofts), was more like a sweetly decorated shed and felt very crowded with 5 people in it. Still, I managed to get up the stairs into the main loft to take a shot looking down at the main floor.

Below is the kitchen, bathroom, and stairs up:

And the dining table:

This is the view of the smaller loft from the larger one:

And the outside, including plantings, patio, window boxes, and a very large container garden:

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Martignetti Enterprises, in Woburn and Amesbury MA, made the most of their small, narrow display space allocation with a unique water table — water in the table and an intentional and quite large pool of water under the table, hence the flip flops, I think, because anyone sitting at the table would have wet feet. They also managed to fit a fire nook in.

(photo credit: T. Williams)

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Heimlich’s Nurseries in Woburn, MA, had another interesting garden display this year. They were paying homage to their founder and had some of his poems printed and posted around the garden (I’m sorry I didn’t get a picture of any) . What I especially liked about this garden were the juxtaposition of neon colours.

pond, pink azaleas, chartreuse maple, daffofils

purple hyacinths, pink azaleas, chartreuse maple, white rhododendrons ‘Milky Way,” weeping larch (I think)

weeping larch (I think), pink azaleas, umbrella pine (I think)

white rhododendron ‘Milky Way’ and salmon-pink azaleas et al.

hostas ‘Aureo marginata,’ pieris japonica ‘Bowers Beauty,’ salmon-pink azaleas, hellebore, white rhododendron, pink tulips

blazing orange ‘Tradition’ azalea with ‘Brown Sugar’ heuchera

gold-orange ‘Bloodgold’ Japanese maple with pink azalea

pink tulips, chartreuse heuchera, hellebore, salmon-pink azalea

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Maine Stonework, in Kennebunkport, ME, went all out with their material, building a stone house everyone wanted to visit. I also liked their little bog garden inside a large stone slab, and their mosses, in particular, and the ferns, pitcher plants, and other boggy/woodland plantings among rocks and on logs, plus hellebore, muscari, and white cyclamen.

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Massachusetts Horticultural Society, which hosts the show, supervises the floral design and ikebana competitions, the photography competition, the amateur horticulture competition, and also presents a display garden. This year, in keeping with the show’s overall theme of “Superheroes of the Garden,” they featured school gardens, garden mentors, and super plants. John Forti, the Mass Hort Society’s director of horticulture and education, and vice chair of the show, was on hand answering questions and talking about their display gardens. (Probably others were too but I recognise him from his time with Strawbery Bank in Portsmouth, NH. I would have loved to have heard his talk on Saturday on New England foodscapes.)

I took very few photos of the competitive floral designs (and none of the other competitions) but did like the idea of a steampunk design:

And I thought this one captured the superpower of “Invisiblity” well:

At the Mass Hort display garden, they showcased raised beds of edible plants:

squash, sweet potato, coriander, chard, among others

three sisters: corn, pole beans, squash

Here’s John Forti talking with attendees:

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John Gray Stonework and Sculpture (Stratham, NH), with Pleasant View Gardens (Loudon, NH) providing plants, of course focused on Gray’s stone and metal sculpture, much of it whimsical, like the spitting Easter Island head. I’m partial to his heron sculptures.

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Rutland Nurseries, in Rutland and Wellesley MA, offered a pavilion with pergola, with a little fire on the table inside, and a water feature:

I particularly liked some of their plants:

‘Black Tower’ elderberry (‘Nigra Eiffel’ Sambuca)

‘Rainbow’ leucothoe (which I love), with other plants

‘Montgomery’ blue spruce, tulips, muscari

a weeping winter pine tree  (with muscari, narccisus)

pink, red, orange ruffled tulips

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GardenUp (Boston), I gather from their website and what I saw of their display, asks customers questions about their yard conditions and garden desires, and from the responses uses an algorithm to suggest appropriate designs; once the design is chosen, they deliver and install the plants to make it a reality.  The display featured computer presentations, design schemes (including for the shady border, below), plus plants and garden art.

I loved this bunny statuary from Aardvark Antiques, and the ‘Platinum Blonde’ lavender plant.

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I didn’t take many photos of Oakwood Landscape & Construction (Millis, MA) or Liquid Landscape Designs (Westford and Carlisle, MA).

Three from Oakwood:

(photo credit: T. Williams)

It’s possible this ‘Hosford’s Dwarf’ white pine tree, whose light colour and thick needle bundles I liked, also came from Oakwood; I lost track:

And here are a few of the Liquid Landscapes display:

‘Bloodgood” Japanese maple leaves

Cyperus altrenifolia (umbrella palm)

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Some floral displays on the main floor:

floral mosaics and arrangements, Massachusetts Florists’ Coalition

more floral mosaics and arrangements, Massachusetts Florists’ Coalition

pink azalea bonsai, Bonsai Study Group

monkey floral design, Florists’ Invitational

Patriots’ jersey and floral football, Florists’ Invitational — “Living Legends” was their theme (photo credit: T. Williams)

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There were chickens, native flower seeds, bee-keeping equipment, etc., in the urban homesteading pavilion:

Make-your-own native seed packet

chicken coop with chickens

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Mass Wildlife offered their usual table of mammal pelts and stuffed mammals, with fact sheets on each. It’s sad to see, but they are so soft and soothing to stroke.

stuffed groundhog (aka woodchuck)

skunk, raccoon, coyote, bobcat pelts

coyote, bobcat, fox, squirrel pelts

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Massachusetts Master Gardeners Association made the best use of the theme (“Superheroes of the Garden”), I think, with their stations asking “What’s Your Superpower?” They demonstrated and provided instructional information on composting, vermicomposting (with worms), raised bed gardening, wise watering and drought-tolerant gardens, etc.

drought-tolerant sedum/rock garden

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And finally,

giant Crinium asiaticum bulb for sale

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And finally, finally, not at the flower show but close by, at the Legal Seafoods Test Kitchen (LTK), which is a great place for lunch when attending the show, this adorable poster advertising their Easter dinner:

Featured image at top of page: display garden of Minuteman Regional Vocational-Technical School, Lexington, MA

Boston Flower Show: Lectures, Designs, Displays, Plants I attended day three (Friday) of the Boston Flower Show this year. The show was presented, as usual for 5 days, from Wednesday, 22 March, to Sunday, 26 March, at the Boston World Trade Center in the Seaport.

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I'm love Vulture. A Handsome Man! And if you have the time - do the beeple find high color contrast attractive? Like humans tend to find features not commonly seen together striking ( something about finding genetic variation inheritly attractive bc survival favors diversity.) Do queens also find unusual or "exotic" drones more attractive?

I think there’s competing factors in what they find attractive, as on the one hand, there’s familiarity and how looking as expected could mean health and so on - but then on the other hand, as you say, looking very different can mean genetic variety - and in L. dexter it often means the drone flew a long ways, which means a survivor. So I imagine different queens have different personal preferences, since they are intelligent enough for personal experience and culture to factor into things.

I think high contrast has some benefits since they are also drawn to contrast like we are, so a high contrast drone is naturally eye catching - whether the queen likes what she sees when she’s unable to look away would be another matter though.

For example, when it comes to attractiveness - AmberRust and SunGlass both rejected Vulture. BloodGold grabbed him before he finished the courtship dance. Different strokes.

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I found out insects use melanin as an immune defense and this information has made Blood Gold’s scarring exponentially more visible.

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New adjusted coloration for Blood Gold modeled by Goldy herself.

Seems like every time I touch her design I end up making her look more evil.

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Done.

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What am I even doing with this palette, aaaaa.