#Canopy Growth

[delicatelysublimeforester]

Meet David Kirton during Arbor Week

[landwriter]

a ponderosa pine through binoculars

[halledammen1961blog]

[disgruntled-lifeform]

Loving the little water drips coming off the berries

[macabrecabra]

RIP big maple tree in my backyard, we tried for five years, but the previous owner of me maison slated you for death by not freeing you in times from the insects and gouging huge wounds into you...

Been trying for a while to nurse it back to health, but this year the only growth is on one branch (that is already dying) and some sprouts....

So the tree has to come down :c I've kept seeds it dropped, so maybe will try to grow its offspring to replace it.

[thebbtalks]

One more for the evening. Right now is all about momentum, progress, and growth. There are so many exciting things coming up in the near future, I can't wait to share them soon ❤️. So far this is a year of a new beginning, a new home, a new car, tons of new friends, healthy headway in processing old&lingering feelings, swift progress towards goals, and loads of travel. I'm working on some new art, and have plans to finally have some new photography to share. I'm still processing thru photos from last year, but I'm quickly approaching the present. #progress #trees #intentions #growth #sky #canopy #hiking #hikingadventures #beginning #past #photography #theprocess #latergram #selflove #growth #growthmindset #phoenix #changes https://www.instagram.com/p/CpRemSrLJr4/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[alyss-erulisse]

Centenarian Pecan Trees

A canopy of giant pecan trees shade the farmyard inside an eclectic perimeter of rotted posts, rusted chain-links and varied shrubbery.

See more of my work: Check out my archive.

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[reasonsforhope]

Ancient redwoods recover from fire by sprouting 1000-year-old buds

Article | Paywall free

When lightning ignited fires around California’s Big Basin Redwoods State Park north of Santa Cruz in August 2020, the blaze spread quickly. Redwoods naturally resist burning, but this time flames shot through the canopies of 100-meter-tall trees, incinerating the needles. “It was shocking,” says Drew Peltier, a tree ecophysiologist at Northern Arizona University. “It really seemed like most of the trees were going to die.”

Yet many of them lived. In a paper published yesterday in Nature Plants, Peltier and his colleagues help explain why: The charred survivors, despite being defoliated [aka losing all their needles], mobilized long-held energy reserves—sugars that had been made from sunlight decades earlier—and poured them into buds that had been lying dormant under the bark for centuries.

“This is one of those papers that challenges our previous knowledge on tree growth,” says Adrian Rocha, an ecosystem ecologist at the University of Notre Dame. “It is amazing to learn that carbon taken up decades ago can be used to sustain its growth into the future.” The findings suggest redwoods have the tools to cope with catastrophic fires driven by climate change, Rocha says. Still, it’s unclear whether the trees could withstand the regular infernos that might occur under a warmer climate regime.

Mild fires strike coastal redwood forests about every decade. The giant trees resist burning thanks to the bark, up to about 30 centimeters thick at the base, which contains tannic acids that retard flames. Their branches and needles are normally beyond the reach of flames that consume vegetation on the ground. But the fire in 2020 was so intense that even the uppermost branches of many trees burned and their ability to photosynthesize went up in smoke along with their pine needles.

Trees photosynthesize to create sugars and other carbohydrates, which provide the energy they need to grow and repair tissue. Trees do store some of this energy, which they can call on during a drought or after a fire. Still, scientists weren’t sure these reserves would prove enough for the burned trees of Big Basin.

Visiting the forest a few months after the fire, Peltier and his colleagues found fresh growth emerging from blackened trunks. They knew that shorter lived trees can store sugars for several years. Because redwoods can live for more than 2000 years, the researchers wondered whether the trees were drawing on much older energy reserves to grow the sprouts.

Average age is only part of the story. The mix of carbohydrates also contained some carbon that was much older. The way trees store their sugar is like refueling a car, Peltier says. Most of the gasoline was added recently, but the tank never runs completely dry and so a few molecules from the very first fill-up remain. Based on the age and mass of the trees and their normal rate of photosynthesis, Peltier calculated that the redwoods were calling on carbohydrates photosynthesized nearly 6 decades ago—several hundred kilograms’ worth—to help the sprouts grow. “They allow these trees to be really fire-resilient because they have this big pool of old reserves to draw on,” Peltier says.

It's not just the energy reserves that are old. The sprouts were emerging from buds that began forming centuries ago. Redwoods and other tree species create budlike tissue that remains under the bark. Scientists can trace the paths of these buds, like a worm burrowing outward. In samples taken from a large redwood that had fallen after the fire, Peltier and colleagues found that many of the buds, some of which had sprouted, extended back as much as 1000 years. “That was really surprising for me,” Peltier says. “As far as I know, these are the oldest ones that have been documented.”

... “The fact that the reserves used are so old indicates that they took a long time to build up,” says Susan Trumbore, a radiocarbon expert at the Max Planck Institute for Biogeochemistry. “Redwoods are majestic organisms. One cannot help rooting for those resprouts to keep them alive in decades to come.”

-via Science, December 1, 2023

[theveryworstthing]

an old growth dryad named Canopy. some say she was one of the first seedlings in her forest home.

weird that no one has ever seen her tree.

[whats-in-a-sentence]

When plants are grown under high R:FR, as in an open canopy, phy proteins become nuclear localized and inactivate PIF proteins, which act as negative regulators of the phytochrome photomorphogenic response (Figure 18.30).

"Plant Physiology and Development" int'l 6e - Taiz, L., Zeiger, E., Møller, I.M., Murphy, A.

[tenth-sentence]

In this way it can enhance its chances of growing above the canopy and acquiring a greater share of unfiltered, photosynthetically active light.

"Plant Physiology and Development" int'l 6e - Taiz, L., Zeiger, E., Møller, I.M., Murphy, A.

[shepscapades]

I completely forgot live was today, what's the cliffnotes? What's the deets on the pale garden? How does New Guy work?

Hi! Cliff Notes are:

New biome: The Pale Garden!

> Overworld dense forest biome > Features a brand new wood type called “pale oak” and it’s basically white wood :D and the “growth-style” of pale oaks mimic dark oaks, so there’s a lot of wood per tree > The canopy of the biome is thicker than a normal forest, the grass type is really desaturated, and it’s very graveyard-esque— they’re definitely going for an empty, vacant, spooky “something is wrong here” vibe. > New foliage! Hanging moss and Pale Moss Carpet (that, when placed next to vertical blocks, put little vines growing up the side of walls and stuff) > It’s safe during the day, but at Night the new mob can spawn, and there are new ambient sounds (creaking, crunching, very horror-esque sounds).

New Mob: The Creaking!

> They only spawn at night > They work like Weeping Angels— they’re completely still when you’re looking at them, and they scramble towards you as soon as you look away. > They deal relatively low damage, but damage can add up when there are multiple ganging up on the player > They do not take damage at all, but are instead linked to nearby “Creaking Hearts,” which are special-texture wood blocks nestled in the trunks of nearby trees. When you destroy/mine the Creaking Hearts, The Creeking mob will shatter, so they’re more like puppets. So this is a whole new way to manipulate/defeat this hostile mob :D > You can silk touch the Creaking Hearts, meaning you can place them down again and spawn a Creaking.

In my personal opinion it was really discouraging to see how negative the comments section was after genuinely enjoying the live/video (They had a cute animated section to tease the reveal of the new mob that I thought was really cute too, I couldn’t stop smiling), and I do think there are some small things that could be added to make the new biome a little more immersive or unique (new leaf textures, new tree-growth-style, a new flower type, fog, particle effects, things like that that could enhance the atmosphere!), but I honestly think this is all really exciting and it gives a lot of life to the Minecraft world-building/ecosystem :3

(In other news, they added hardcore to bedrock, gave some insights on the minecraft movie set building, and did a cool little community-feature pre-show. After the reveals above, they did an after-show where they went more in depth on all of the new blocks!)

Also, if I missed anything, feel free to add stuff in reblogs/comments/etc!

[kedreeva]

Crown shyness, also known as "canopy disengagement" is a phenomenon in some forests where the upper canopy of branches from different trees seem to avoid one another. Scientists aren't sure why this happens (and why it only happens sometimes/with only some species).

The two major contending theories are that physical damage (such as when wind blows and branches brush one another) at the tips of fresh growth make it difficult to grow to close the gap, and/or that certain species of trees are sensitive to shade, and will not grow close to the other tree to prevent new growth from being shaded. For the first, trees previously exhibiting crown shyness will close the gaps if damage from wind is artificially prevented. For the second, some species seem to exhibit crown shyness with regards to their same species, but will close the gap with other species.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Scorched Earth.

A Grab Bag For A Very Lovely Anonymous Commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Warrior x Reader.

Word Count: 1.3k.

TW: Unhealthy Relationships, Mentions of War/Death, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, and Kidnapping.

You saw the torchlight hours before he reached your cottage.

Bright and brilliant, a red stain ebbing through the trees and bleeding into the dark sky. The forest was dense, the canopy stifling, yet somehow, the light he and his soldiers carried was awful enough to pierce through it all, to burn away every behind them and fill the open air with thick, choking smoke. You could’ve tried to flee, it wasn’t as if you couldn’t guess what was coming for you, but you didn’t keep a horse, and you knew better than to stave off the inevitable. He’d catch you, no matter how far you ran, no matter how many times you refused him. He’d promised as much, the first time he declared that you’d be his.

Rather than escape, you stayed where you were, perched on the rotting wooden steps leading up to your door and watching the oncoming flare. His scouts, dressed in black and prone to circling your meager home like vultures, reached you before he did, then sergeants, piling in by the dozen, well-armed and jeering and carrying his insignia with a sort of heady arrogance. Finally, he emerged from the growth, surrounded by his lieutenants and mounted on a sleek, grey steed larger than any you’d ever seen before. He was a far cry from how you’d seen him last – his bandages gone, his pitch-black hair grown down to his shoulders, the rags you’d been able to lend him traded out for shining armor clean enough to catch the torchlight and glow scarlet. A great-sword sat at his hip, two more curved blades crossed over his back, but you couldn’t seem to find much joy in his fortune. Not when you’d soon be counted among one of his many, many precious things.

As he dismounted, the movements practiced to the point of thoughtlessness, you rose to meet him, hyper-aware that this would likely be the last time you’d be able to stand on equal ground. “Wren.”

It wasn’t his name. You’d misheard him, the first time you asked; made what you could out of the slurred syllables he’d been able to spit out and never found the time to look back. Even when he started to recover, when he was able to hold onto consciousness for longer than a minute at a time and more than just your clumsy stitching held the jagged cut stretching from his shoulder to his hip shut, he always failed to correct you. His real name – Wyvern, given to him as an unknown orphan after he slayed his namesake and delivered its head to a king who’d let him massacre armies and rampage through the countryside as he pleased – was something you had to learn the day he left, the day he told you who he was and why you’d found him bleeding out in a stream all those months ago. He’d asked you to come with him, back to the castle, and through tears, you’d told him that you wouldn’t have helped him if you’d known you were saving the life of a murderer. He’d tried to kiss you, and you slapped him and told him to get out of your cottage.

It wasn’t his name, but he smiled like it was, taking a step toward you. His soldiers started to close in, but he held up a hand, keeping them at bay. “Beloved.” It was a familiar petname. It used to make you blush, stammer, want to make flower crowns and kick your feet and learn to play some ridiculous stringed instrument. Now, it just made your stomach turn, your vision dim at the edges with rage. “I’m sorry I took so long to return to you. I had to gather a few friends – thought you should meet the future guests of our wedding.”

There was cheer from his soldiers, a flash of a grin from Wren. You stiffened, squaring your shoulders, but he remained unaffected, his expression only softening as you forced yourself to respond. “I meant what I said. I could never love a man with blood on his hands.”

If he heard you over the milling of his soldiers, the crackling of his torches and the distant sounds of the forest’s nightlife, he clearly wasn’t listening. Rather he closed the remaining space between you and him and took you in his arms. Your feet were off the ground in a moment, your chest against his chest in another, being spun idly as he let out a throaty laugh. “God,” he sighed, when he finally came to a stop. The sharp corners of his plated armor dug into your skin at odd angles, and his hold on your waist was tight enough to bruise. You’d had to ask him to be gentle before, to mind his inhuman strength when he touched you, but it was a lesson he just couldn’t seem to take to heart. “I missed the sound of your voice. I’ll have to take you with me on my next campaign - I don’t know if I could stand to leave you at court for all that time.”

“Put me down,” you hissed, hitting his shoulders with as much force as you could manage. He abided you, but didn’t let go of you – just moving his hold from your hips to your hands, taking them in his own before you had time to pull away.

“I couldn’t. I absolutely couldn’t. Most of the knights are absolute bastards, and you’re too sweet – they’d try to take you for themselves in a heartbeat. No, I can’t let you out of my sight for a moment, can I?” He paused, his face lighting up with apparent zeal. “You’ll adore the castle. I’ve already secured a cottage on the edge of the grounds, and you’ll have full reign of the gardens. We won’t have to—”

“Stop.” You attempted to wrench yourself out of his vice-grip, and when that failed, let out a ragged groan, tears already forming in the corners of your eyes. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“That’s not true.” His smile didn’t so much as waver. “You saved my life. You told me that you loved me, and I love you, too. How would either of us ever be happy if we were seperated?”

Something deep in your chest ached. It was impossible to look at him and not picture the countless mornings you’d woken up by his side, the countless days you’d passed teaching him how fish and tend to a garden, the countless nights you’d spent bundled beside a fire sharing stories with a man you thought you’d loved. It was impossible not to think about what he’d done and wish you’d driven that knife into his stomach yourself.

“I can’t love someone like you,” you said, finally, because you couldn’t bear to say anything else. “And I’m not leaving my home.”

At that, you could’ve sworn you saw something register in his dark eyes. He was quiet, his enthusiasm fading, and for a second, you thought he might’ve understood. For a second, you thought he might call away his soldiers, get back on his horse, and leave you to your quiet suffering.

Then, he leaned forward, his lips coming to rest against the top of your head. “Beloved,” his voice was low, stifled your skin. “You don’t have a home. Not without me.”

Abruptly, he pulled away from you, raising a hand and looking toward his soldiers. While you were left in the dark, they knew their signal, surging forward in a chaotic wave of yelling and footsteps. You pressed your form against Wren’s side, clenching your eyes shut and bracing yourself, but there was only a burst of heat, a sudden visible even through your eyelids. Another kiss, this one pressed into your cheek and chased with a soft chuckle.

When you could bring yourself to look, you found not a volley of arrows or a hundred swords all pointed at your neck, but your cottage engulfed in flame, shining golden in the oppressive night. Your shoulders fell, your mouth opening, but you failed to make a sound. Wren wasn’t as stunned, grinning as he pulled you close and pressed his lips into yours, the kiss delicate and tortuous all at once.

“Don’t worry,” he muttered as he pulled away, his tone so soft and so gentle, you could almost tell ignore the blood-soaked cruelty lingering just underneath it.

“The only home you need is with me.”

[typhlonectes]

Oroperipatus tiputini: A new species of Velvet Worm from the Ecuadorian Amazon.

Velvet Worms, Onychophora, are a unique group of elongate, soft bodied, many legged Animals, given phylum status and considered to be among the closest living relatives to the Arthropods. They are currently the only known phylum of Animals known entirely from terrestrial species, both living and fossil, although they may be related to the Lobopodans, an entirely marine group known only from Early Palaeozoic fossils. The 230 living Velvet Worm species are divided into two groups, the Peripatidae, found in the tropics of Central and South America, the Antilles Islands, Gabon, India, and Southeast Asia, and the Peripatopsidae, found in Chile, South Africa, Papua New Guinea, Australia, and New Zealand. All South American members of the Peripatidae are placed within a single clade, the Neopatida, which is further divided into two lineages, the 'Andean' genus Oroperipatus, and the 'Caribbean' lineage, comprising all other genera. Read the paper: (https://zse.pensoft.net/article/117952/) The new species is described from five male, three female, and three juvenile specimens collected in the vacinity of the Tiputini Biodiversity Station of the Universidad San Francisco de Quito in Orellana Province, Ecuador, between 2001 and 2023, as well as one youngling, which one of the female specimens gave birth to in captivity. The new species is named Oroperipatus tiputini, in reference to the location where it was discovered. Adult female specimens of Oroperipatus tiputini very between 46 and 65.3 mm in length, while the adult males are smaller at 22.7 to 39.8 mm. Females have between 37 and 40 pairs of legs, while the males have between 34 and 37, although one male specimen had a different number of legs on each side, with 35 legs on the right and 36 legs on the left. The species shows considable colour variation, with one adult male being a light brown colour with a faint rhomboid pattern, two adult males and one adult female being brown with orange diamonds, and another female (the one which produced a youngling) being a plain dark orange colour. The youngling itself was yellowish with a diamond pattern. All specimens were darked on their heads and antenae, had orange or brown legs, and a distinctive white band on the head. Most specimens of Oroperipatus tiputini were found on small herbaceous Plants within old growth, closed canopy upland forests around the Tiputini Biodiversity Station. Other specimens were found in leaf litter, or on the butress roots of trees to a height of about 70 cm above the ground. One specimen was found in a Bromiliad. The Worms were more active at night.

IMAGE: Colour variation in the life of Oroperipatus tiputini. (A) Adult male paratype, ZSFQ-i8270; (B) adult male paratype, ZSFQ-i5151; (C) adult female holotype, ZSFQ-i8248, and youngling paratype, ZSFQ-17794, a few days after being born. All photographs were taken at the Tiputini Biodiversity Station. Photographs by Pedro Peñaherrera (A), (C) and Diego Cisneros-Heredia (B).

[writingfromasgard]

Waldeinsamkeit pt 2[König]

[Masterlist] || Requests || More Konig || Part 1

gif source

Synopsis: König and his forest decide to keep you.

König shudders as the trees of his forest swayed, telling him the sweet one with the tree babies had returned. He found you in another clearing that had been decimated by mankind, attempting to unearth a decaying stump with your meager strength and a metal shovel. He watches you struggle before making his presence known, snapping a dead twig between his fingers.

It's cute how it startles you, he thinks.

He approaches you, touching the stump which rapidly decays into fresh soil - roots and all. Your eyes look up at him with wonder. He crouches beside you, digging his claws into the soil to make way for the sapling you've grown for his forest.

"Thank you." You speak politely, planting a sickly looking sapling in the soil. "This one isn't doing well and I read that rotting wood can help plants thrive."

His claws carefully lift the leaves of the sapling, studying it for a moment. He yanks his hand back unexpectantly and growls, anger flooding him. Your body leans away from him, eyes wide with fear again.

"Poison." He hisses, ripping it out of the gown and tossing it aside.

"Poison?" Your lips curve into a frown. "I'm not trying to poison the forest."

His claws reach for your chin, dragging you to look at him. His eyes are boring into yours, trying to choose the correct words - he didn't make contact nearly enough to fully speak your language.

He settles on, "Not my tree."

"Not your tree.." Your brows furrow, gears turning behind your eyes as you try to understand. "It doesn't belong here."

König lets go of your chin, patting the top of your head like he'd seen other humans do. "Good."

You shift your basket, full of saplings in various states of growth. "Can you tell me which ones I shouldn't plant?"

He takes little time, tearing the invasive ones in half and tossing them over his shoulder. Your basket is still halfway full, pleasing him. He stops with the last one, holding up a tree from his forest beside it.

He shoves them in your face, hoping you see the difference in their leaves and color. You gently take one then the other, looking at both of them.

"Bad." He tapped the grotesque one - lighter color leaves, lighter stem.

König prowls the ground around you, keeping an eye on which saplings you're planting to ensure none of the poison tries to take root in his forest. Sunlight grows sparse between the canopy as you finish planting the last sapling.

He watches you brush the dirt off your hands, leaving dark smudges on your clothing. Your contented smile tells him you're done for the day as you pick up your basket. Your smaller limbs creak and pop as you stretch, ready for the walk back home. He wants you to stay.

His forest groans and shifts when you go to leave. It calls out to you, roots and branches alike trying to grasp at you. Your feet stumble over a root. His hands are quick to reach out, catching you before you can fall.

With his hands curled around your waist, purring with satisfaction when you're pressed tightly against him. "You can't leave."

"Why can't I? I've left before." You question, relaxing in his grip.

"Forest wants to keep you. I want to keep you." He nudges your cheek with his, making that same purring sound. "Our - K̵̼̍̓̀͝į̶̲̟̒͠n̴͒̒͊̚͜d̵͎̺̟̄ͅè̶̱͇̠̌ř̷̢̞̠̐̀͜͝ need you."

Confusion is evident in your features. Rather than wait for you to ask more questions, König lifts you, carefully placing you on his shoulder to easily carry you to his home deeper in the forest.

The path twists and turns so frequently that he doubts you will escape the forest before he finds you again. The trees along the path rustle with approval. He stops at a large tree with carvings in the wood before he sets you down.

"Home." He simply says, shoving open the door.

The air is filled with the scent of earth and moss inside. Your nervous glances settle soon into wonderment. He lets you walk around, exploring the small inside. You approach his bed and a familiar ache builds in him.

"This is your home?" You ask, sitting down on the soft moss bedding.

"Our home." He corrects.

He reaches out tentatively, lifting your chin with one of his claws like he's done so many times before to get your attention. He leans down, making gentle contact with your lips. He was only attempting to understand more of your language when your hands came up, pulling him in deeper.

König sinks into it, his magic dancing across your lips and then your tongue when you gasp. His instincts force him to step forward, making you fall backward onto the mossy bed.

He hovers over you, humming with a need that is quickly becoming an ache. His claws graze down your sides, making you arch into his chest. His tongue lolls out, licking his own lips. He leans down, blue eyes staring at you. He can smell something sweet coming from you that he wants to consume.

With a few movements, you're removing the protective layers you wear against the elements, baring yourself to his gaze. That sweet smell grows without your clothing, making his mouth water with hunger.

His head dips between your legs where the smell is the strongest and his tongue laps between your thighs, purring yet again. The tangy taste that coats his tongue is delightful. Your hips move against his tongue so his hands hold them down while he drinks his fill.

Your breath hitches as König's tongue slithers deeper, finding a better source for the taste inside you. The heat around his tongue makes his chest rumble, his cock begins to harden. He watches as your hands claw at the moss beneath you, his magic slowly filling the space he's invading. You loudly cry out then he feels muscles tightly clenching around his tongue.

Your body trembles under him as he climbs over you. His hands fumble to grab hold of himself, memories of humans that would press tightly against each other. Their bottoms moving up and down..

König settles between your legs, poking the tip between your legs. He grumbles, unsure how this feels good to anyone when his cock is hardly making contact. Your hands reach down, grasping him.

"Let me help." You say, voice breathless.

He allows it, body tensing at the feel of your hands touching him there. His eyes watch your squirm to the edge, biting your bottom lip. Heat engulfs him and his hips buck forward, the need for more filling him.

His hands plant beside your hips, grunts leaving him. Your hands leave his length the more he works into you. Your groaning beneath him, clutching his arms.

The pleasure is intoxicating - filling his head with how hot, tight you are around his throbbing cock. Your legs hook on his waist, enabling him to bury all the way.

He lowers his head, licking at your neck. Your body shifts each time his pull-push motions happen. You mewl and arch up against him. His tongue flicks across a nipple on your chest, enjoying the sounds coming from your lips.

Sweat is forming on your skin as he continues on, digging his fingers deeper into the moss bedding. You're as beautiful as the forest around you - sweaty, pleasure stricken, and crying out.

König purs as he feels you clench around him. The sounds you're making turn to screams, your legs locking him in deep. He haunches over your body, drool dripping on your chest. His cock swells before flooding you with his seed.

He keeps thrusting deeper into you, butting against your cervix to make it welcome his cum. It feels too good to stop. His hips keep moving, dragging along your already sensitive nerves. You're crying out, hands shoving at his broad chest.

"Again." König grunts out.