#Himalayan Escapes

[boanerges20]

Lost & Found Royal Enfield Himalayan

[manojnaironline]

Beach or mountains? Which do you prefer? Why?

For me, the choice between beach or mountains often tilts towards the mountains. Living in two vibrant Indian cities, Mumbai and Thiruvananthapuram—both blessed with gorgeous beaches—means I have had my fair share of seaside moments. Yet, the allure of mountains feels refreshingly different, almost irresistible. Mountains possess a majestic calmness that is hard to describe. Their soothing…

[sammelantoursandtravels]

Bhutan Travel Packages | Unveil the Hidden Kingdom

Discover Bhutan's mystical monasteries, breathtaking hikes & vibrant culture. Explore our travel packages!

[lelifeholidays]

Explore the Himalayas: Unforgettable Tour Packages with Lelife Holidays

Embark on an extraordinary journey through the majestic Himalayas with Lelife Holidays, and make it happen with our convenient travel loan options. Contact us at +91-9147376628/9871450349 or llgspl2020@gmail.com. Visit www.lelifeholidays.in for more.

[spanresortandspa]

Best Riverside Hotel in Manali | Span Resort

Discover the perfect blend of nature's beauty and luxury at Span Resort, the best riverside hotel in Manali. Nestled along the serene banks of the Beas River and surrounded by the awe-inspiring Himalayan mountains, this resort offers a magical escape from everyday life. Feel the soothing embrace of the crisp mountain air, listen to the gentle flow of the river, and unwind in spacious, elegantly designed rooms that reflect the charm of the region. With lush green landscapes, riverside dining, and exceptional service, Span Resort is where memories are made, and your heart finds peace. Read more…

Contact-  +91 9816092413

Website:- www.spanresorts.com

[artifacts-and-arthropods]

The Oriental Blue Clearwing Moth: these moths were regarded as a "lost species" for more than 130 years, until they were finally sighted again in 2013

For more than 130 years, the Oriental blue clearwing moth (Heterosphecia tawonoides) was known only from a single, badly damaged specimen that was collected in Sumatra in 1887. There were no recorded sightings of this species again until 2013, when entomologist Dr. Marta Skowron Volponi unexpectedly found the moths feeding on salt deposits that had accumulated along the riverbanks in Malaysia's lowland rainforest.

These moths were observed by researchers again in 2016 and 2017, and research indicates that the moths are actually bee-mimics, as they mimic the appearance, sound, behavior, and flight patterns of local bees. Their fuzzy, bright blue appearance might seem a little out of place for a bee-mimic, but those features do appear in several different bee species throughout Southeast Asia.

When the moths are in flight, they bear a particularly strong resemblance to the bees of the genus Thyreus (i.e. cuckoo bees, otherwise known as cloak-and-dagger bees), several of which are also bright blue, with banded markings, dark blue wings, fuzzy legs, and smooth, rounded antennae. The physical resemblance is compounded by the acoustic and behavioral mimicry that occurs when the moths are in flight.

Cloak-and-Dagger Bees: the image at the top shows an Indo-Malayan cloak-and-dagger bee (Thyreus novaehollandiae) in a sleeping position, holding itself upright with its mandibles clamped onto a twig, while the image at the bottom shows a Himalayan cloak-and-dagger bee (T. himalayensis) resting in the same position

The moths also engage in "mud-puddling" among the various bees that congregate along the riverbanks; mud-puddling is the process whereby an insect (usually a bee or a butterfly) draws nutrients from the fluids found in puddles, wet sand, decaying plant matter, carrion, animal waste, sweat, tears, and/or blood. According to researchers, the Oriental blue clearwing moth was the only lepidopteran that was seen mud-puddling among the local bees.

Dr. Skowron Volponi commented on the unusual appearance and behavior of these moths:

You think about moths and you envision a grey, hairy insect that is attracted to light. But this species is dramatically different—it is beautiful, shiny blue in sunlight and it comes out during the day; and it is a master of disguise, mimicking bees on multiple levels and even hanging out with them. The Oriental blue clearwing is just two centimeters in size, but there are so many fascinating things about them and so much more we hope to learn.

This species is still incredibly vulnerable, as it faces threats like deforestation, pollution, and climate change. The president of Global Wildlife Conservation, which is an organization that seeks to rediscover "lost species," added:

After learning about this incredible rediscovery, we hope that tourists visiting Taman Negara National Park and picnicking on the riverbanks—the home of these beautiful clearwing moths—will remember to tread lightly and to take their trash out of the park with them. We also recommend that Americans learn about palm oil production, which is one of the primary causes of deforestation in Malaysia.

Sources & More Info:

Phys.org: Bee-Mimicking Clearwing Moth Buzzes Back to Life After 130 Years

Mongabay News: Moth Rediscovered in Malaysia Mimics Appearance and Behavior of Bees to Escape Predators

Journal of Tropical Conservation Science: Lost Species of Bee-Mimicking Clearwing Moth, H. tawonoides, Rediscovered in Peninsular Malaysia's Primary Rainforest

Frontiers in Zoology: Southeast Asian Clearwing Moths Buzz like their Model Bees

Royal Society Publishing: Moving like a Model - mimicry of hymenopteran flight trajectories by clearwing moths of Southeast Asian rainforests

Medium: Rediscovery in a Glint of Blue

re:wild.org: The "Search for Lost Species" Project

[meangreennunseen]

My favorite thing about Primarchs has to be that no matter in what groups you combine them, it's just pure chaos...

I have no idea how Big E planned to carrel all 18 of those idiots into giant pens rooms he built for them under Himalayan palace...

Not like Corvus wouldn't successfully escape in first hour.

Perturabo would break adjecting wall just to beat on Dorn who's been berating him (also Dorn was busy berating structural integrity of his room, because that's what Dorn does best)

Magnus already had teleported away via warp and Konrad's somewhere in the vents...

Vulkan got bored and teleported to Ferrus' room for a chat.

Fulgrim is singing his heart out, with Sanguinius joining in and Lion, in his room sandwitched between the two, is going insane.

To add:

Alpharius Omegon is not even there. There's random Alpharius locked in that room.

Moration already started to shovel out with a Primarch grade spoon.

Mournival are trying to sneak in to get Horus out. Meanwhile Horus joined sing along just to piss Lion off, because he's bored.

Angron hates everyone even more than usual.

Lorgar is reading prayers to drown out the singing.

Guilliman is reading a book in bed and discussing it over the wall with Khan.

Leman, most weirdly is just asleep snoring loudly. The chaos makes him sleepy.

As I said, pure fucking chaos.

[cushfuddled]

When I first started shoveling Jayvik fanfic into my mouth a month and a half ago, I was shocked and delighted at the avalanche buffet of top Viktor and dom Viktor content. But I've started to feel like the detective who kneels down and touches some footprints in the dirt like, "Something happened here..."

Because I can't remember the last time I saw a fanon concept become...so ubiquitous? Even in fics where Viktor bottoms, he's a power bottom/topping from the bottom. Spotting a fic with an overwhelmed sub bottom Vik in the Ao3 tag feels a bit like the moment a snow leopard graces your Himalayan trail cam.

I DO NOT mean to suggest anyone "should" write more inexperienced/bottom/sub Viktor! It's just...as someone who likely missed whatever ancient discourse might've plagued the Arcane fandom years hence, I've been through this fandom song and dance enough times to recognize the smell of...what say, capital-O Obligation.

I just want people to know they can write whatever kind of fanfic they want. That's the point of this post. I hope someone somewhere reads this and feels emboldened to let loose/goof off/get freaky/whatever.

Because I can see why people would feel Obligated to portray Viktor as a top/dom/the sexually experienced one. He's physically disabled and chronically ill. Ableism so often takes the form of paternalism and infantilization. There's this pervasive notion that disabled people don't have sex. People think we're too "pure" for sex, or assume we're "undesirable" as romantic partners/that our physical or mental disabilities would make sex impossible. With that cultural context, it's a radical act for so many people to come together and choose to portray Viktor—a disabled, terminally ill man who struggles with suicide ideation—as a sexually experienced top.

One of the hardest things about being disabled/ill is the lack of control. You can't plan for the future; you don't know whether your pain levels will be better tomorrow or demand another trip to the ER; your life is totally in the hands of overworked doctors who don't care about you. So it feels kind of like an act of reclamation to put Viktor in a dominant position. In a safe, sane, consensual arrangement, all parties have control over the situation, but with topping and/or domming comes the Role of authority/power. Making Viktor an experienced, sly top/dom gives back Viktor's autonomy and agency.

So yeah. I get why this trend is pervasive within the fandom! It's fantastically subversive. I just hope nobody feels like they HAVE to fall into this dynamic.

I remember a Tumblr post from years ago where someone described the drawbacks of a supposedly "feminist retelling" of Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty, wherein the heroin saves herself by her own strength and wits. This, I would argue, is a perfectly fine story to tell...but its lack of intersectionality betrays a shallow definition of feminism. In casting those retold fairy tales in a feminist, "empowering" light, one ignores the realities of the people who found escapism in those helpless damsels.

In a paradoxical way, when my MCAS knocked me flat on my ass for two years, I was always out of control of my life AND forced to take control all the time. All those overworked, traumatized, apathetic doctors meant I had to be my own patient advocate. I had to do my own research; figure out which treatment plans made the most sense; find doctors who took my insurance and could see me within six months; argue with Medicaid when they didn't want to pay for one of the drugs I'd been prescribed; find new and creative ways to feed myself when my body reacted like it was allergic to everything other than water and Cheerios. And god, I had to self-police myself all the time. At the doctor's office, you have to look sick enough that they believe you when you say you're hurting, but you don't want to seem TOO sick because the desperation will make the doctor diagnose you with "hysterical woman" (or they'll just assume you're fishing for drugs). At home, you want to project some amount of strength so you don't worry your loved ones or make yourself too much of a "burden." (You also don't want to have to manage other people's anxiety on top of your own.) My disability (autism) and chronic illness (MCAS) are invisible, but I imagine there's a lot of masking that goes into navigating public spaces with a visible disability/illness, too.

So...when everything's this constant battle for control—when you're forced to project strength every day regardless of your pain level—of course some people are going to find relief in stories where they're allowed to shut down. I think it's important to let disabled characters be vulnerable and overwhelmed and even dependent on someone else, because as often as disabled and chronically ill people are infantalized, so too are we expected to "overcome" our disabilities/illnesses through miracles of resilience and cunning. We're pushed to perform strength, cheer, and "normalcy" for the public, who find our disabilities "sad" and "uncomfortable." Every time someone refuses to put on a mask, or a relative tells us to simply get more exercise, or a politician rails against "wellfare queens," or a bus route gets cut or a bench gets removed or our doctors hand-wave our symptoms, our world reinforces the message that we are Too Much; that our needs are exorbitant, our very existence a drain on society. So many of us throw ourselves into self-sabotaging grasps at independence. We work ourselves far past our limits to prove we aren't a burden on society. We refuse help just to maintain that tiny sense of control over our lives.

I find it deeply comforting to read stories where ill and disabled characters are...allowed to be helpless, I guess. To break the fuck down and let someone else finally take the reigns for a while—to lift some of that burden off their shoulders. I love when ill and disabled characters trust someone enough to take off that heavy armor, revealing the pain and weakness beneath the facade they were forced to take up to survive, and are rewarded with warmth and reassurance and care.

At a certain point...is it not a little ableist in itself, to restrict a disabled, chronically ill character to one specific role? To essentially lock them out of a position where they're allowed to relinquish control and be taken care of?

In essence,

Disabled and chronically/terminally ill people are not a monolith. As I always say, what offends one person will uplift another. It's an uncomfortable reality, but there's really no such thing as perfect representation. I think part of intersectionality is being willing to accept that multiple things can be true at once, because everyone's lived reality is different. It's absolutely fine to prefer one trope over another. But if I find a fanfic offensive or uncomfortable, I can always click the back button with the knowledge that there's almost certainly someone out there who'll find that same so-called problematic content empowering. Whether fic writers prefer top Viktor, power bottom Viktor, bottom Viktor, switch Viktor, sub Viktor, dom Viktor, experienced Viktor, virgin Viktor, omega vs. alpha Viktor, and every niche in between...I just hope they go where their heart tells them and write what they want.

[haveihitanerve]

You Can Cry If You Want To-

Bruce Wayne was just on his way to bed when he paused in the hallway. He hadn't checked on anyones bedroom since steph and tim had moved out, and damian didn't seem the type to sleep heavy and feel secure if his father poked his head in the door at midnight. But Bruce missed watching his children sleep, missed watching as their chest rose and fell, missed seeing all the tension leave their bodies as they relaxed. Got to be children. Young. For the night. So quietly, in a way only a man trained by ninjas in the himalayans can move, bruce snuck over to his youngest sons bedroom, and gently pushed open the door. He frowned when the light fell onto an empty bed, his heart starting to race. He had checked all the cameras, he had raised dick grayson and jason todd, there was no way to escape the Manor without Bruce knowing and letting it happen. And no one could come in either. Cautiously, he stepped a bit further in, looking around. Maybe for signs of a struggle, or a packed bag or anything. But he found nothing. Bruces frown deepened and he walked in further, scanning. That was when he heard the sniffling. Bruce tensed, but realized it was… the sound of crying? He turned slowly, and spotted the closet door cracked open slightly, a small light, probably from a flashlight, shining through the slats in the door. So bruce crouched down and crept forward slowly, opening the door further. “Damian?” he whispered. The crying cut off. “F-father?” Damian's shaky voice floated out to him from behind a few racks of clothes and he let out a sigh of relief. “Hey dami. You alright Prince?” Bruce pushed aside the hangers and peered down at his youngest, huddled in the corner, alfred the cat curled up next to him, his knees up to his chest and tears streaked across his cheeks. “Oh baby.” Bruce reached out a hand, slowly, so that damian wouldn't tense, and gently wiped his tears away. “Whats wrong?” he asked. Damian blinked, and the confusion at the kindness, the simple act of fatherly behavior, made bruce want to snap Talia Al Ghul's neck. But he kept the anger off his face, instead crawling deeper into the clothes and pulling damian onto his lap. He carded his fingers through the soft brown curls and damian cuddled closer, digging his hands into bruces chest. “What happened?” Bruce asked softly, reaching out a hand to rub alfreds chin when the cat let out a put out meow. “I-I had a bad dream.” Damian answered quietly and the doubt and fear in his voice made bruce see red. But he pushed it away, focusing instead on the small, scared little boy in his arms. His heart squeezed. How many times had he been in this position before? How many times had he held dick, held jason, tim, cass, steph, and even babs when the things they had seen had been too much or memories of their past flooded their senses. And in that moment Bruce hated his sons mother. Hated the League of Assassins. He had kept damian’s conceiving quiet, not revealing anything to alfred as to how the child had actually come to be, for he knew that if the butler got even a whiff of it, or the exact details of what life had been like for damian there, he would tear the place apart to get to those who had hurt him. But in that moment, as he held his son who had been kept from him for so many years, had been hurt and trained to be a weapon, had been beaten for showing emotions so much so to the point where showing any here, in a place he was safe, when he had a nightmare and wanted comfort(if the vice grip he had on bruce was any indication) had scarred him so severely, bruce didn't know if he wanted to keep the secret any longer. Or hold alfred back when he did. 

But Bruce shoved all his emotions, his feelings of rage aside, in favor of calming the little boy in his arms. “Thats okay baby. Sometimes i have nightmares too.” He kissed damian’s head. “You wanna talk about it?” Damian shook his head, but he cuddled closer. “Alright.” Bruce said softly, wrapping his arms tighter around the boy. “Grandfather said we’re not to cry.” Damian whispered pitifully. Bruce felt a growl build up in his throat, but he swallowed it down, rubbing damian’s back soothingly. “That is because Ras Al Ghul is incapable of human emotion.” he kissed damian’s head. “You are ten. You can cry if you want to.” Damian didn't answer, but bruce felt his shirt grow wet. He didn't move, just held the boy closer. “You wanna sleep with me tonight?” He asked quietly. Damian hiccuped, nodding. “Y-yes. Yes please.” “okay.” Bruce stood and damian moved to get back on the ground, but bruce just held him, cradling him as he walked to his own room, alfred the cat trailing behind him. Damian sniffed, wiping his nose as bruce pushed open the door to his bedroom and walked to the bed. “Wait here okay? Ill be right back.” he promised. Damian nodded, hugging alfred close to his chest when the cat leapt onto the bed. Bruce hurried to get changed, slipping into his bed clothes before half running back out. Damian was seated in the same spot as before, alfred in his lap. Bruce smiled softly, coming over and slipping under the covers. “Come here.” he bade his son softly. Damian crawled over to him, snuggling underneath his arm. Bruce kissed his head and wrapped the blanket around them, pulling alfred in as well for damian to cuddle. Damian's eyes drooped and bruce smiled, opening his mouth to sing. He had used to sing goodnight lullabies all the time when dick and jason had been younger, but had stopped after a while. Damian let out a yawn, and his eyes slid shut. Bruce smiled, finishing the song and switched off the light. Damian rolled in his arms, snuggling closer.  “I love you baba.” he murmured, drowsily, before wrapping his arms around alfred and passing out. Bruce wiped at his eyes and kissed his sons head again. “I love you too Princeling.” He whispered. Neither noticed the flash of the camera, or the butler, watching from the hall with a smile. 

based on this little short but changed slightly because, come on, gotta give bruce some good dad points. he would so stand by his kids if they cried. he might not understand the emotion because hes been through too much, but he would let them cry

[maximumwobblerbanditdonut]

mountainworld In Hinduism, a ghee lamp (diya) and it's flame symbolizes purity, knowledge, and the spark of enlightenment. The warm light of a ghee flame is believed to attract a divine presence, bringing peace and calm. In this holiday season and the near dawn of a new year, amidst the hardship and chaos of our world, may you all find a bit of peace, calm, beauty, knowledge, and a light in the dark.

Happy Holidays and Happy New Year!

* This photo was taken when @samheughan and I visited the Bishwarup Mandir in the forest above Pashupatinath Temple in Kathmandu, Nepal, a truly peaceful and spiritual place.

_______________ 🗻🗻🗻🗻______________

Jake Norton’s photo, with a ghee diya lamp, in Bishwarup above might be the temple of Lord Vishnu** in the Pashupati area of Kathmandu in the Mrigasthali forest a tranquil site located in Kathmandu, Nepal, the forest is a a significant tourist attraction. The Mrigasthali forest is an enrichment place close to several religious sites. Allowing for a blend of nature and spirituality.

Mrigasthali offers a perfect escape from city life. The highlight of Mrigasthali is the panoramic view it offers of its surrounding landscape, including the majestic Himalayan foothills. Photographers and nature enthusiasts will find this location particularly rewarding, as the vista changes with the shifting light throughout the day. The area is less crowded allowing you a personal experience with the spirituality that permeates this part of Kathmandu than other tourist hotspots.

From the main entrance of the Pashupatinath Temple, head south towards the Bagmati River. You will see the riverbank on your left. Continue walking along the riverbank, enjoying the view of the sacred river. After about a 10-minute walk, you will arrive at the entrance to Mrigasthali, the path is straightforward.

This area is the junction of three ancient cities of Kathmandu, Bhaktapur and Patan where SH and JN stayed at Hotel Timila in Lalitpur, also known as Patan. Tribhuvan International Airport is located 1 km (0.6 mi) from Pashupatinath Temple and 6 km (3.7 mi) east of the city centre and the place to stay to organise your departure from Nepal🇳🇵

** Lord Vishnu In Hindu mythology, is said to have grabbed the horns of Shiva and shattered them into four pieces after Shiva refused to return home from the Mrigasthali forest. He is the second god in the Hindu triumvirate, along with Brahma and Shiva.

Pashupatinath temple is a sacred Hindu temple and a pilgrimage site in Nepal situated in the eastern Kathmandu valley on the banks of the sacred Bagmati River, approximately 5 km east of Kathmandu's main city. Lord Pashupatinath is the national deity of Nepal and is considered to be the guardian of Nepal (is a form of the Hindu deity Lord Shiva central figure in the religion)

The main temple an architectural masterpiece is built in the Nepalese pagoda style architecture. All the features of the pagoda style are found here, like cubic constructions and beautifully carved wooden rafters on which they rest (Tundal) often carved with deities and celestial beings. There are four main doors wrapped in silver sheets and the two-level roofs are made of copper with gold covering.

Lord Pashupatinath is the oldest temple in Kathmandu and has also been listed on a UNESCO World Heritage Sites list since 1979 was erected anew in the 15th century by King Kirat Yalambee, and stood strong with no damage against the great earthquake of 7.8 magnitudes on 25th April 2015.

Pashupatinath Temple and Bagmati River in Kathmandu, Nepal. 🛕 some visitors can view the main temple from the opposite side of the river, similar to Sam in the photo above.

Entry into Pashupatinath Temple itself is only allowed to Hindus. Entry into the inner courtyard is strictly monitored by the temple security, which is selective of who is allowed inside. The temple and its grounds are considered so sacred that only Hindus are allowed to enter. This includes Foreigners and non-Hindus who are asked to watch from the opposite side of the Bagmati River.

Sonia Gandhi, the Italian-born wife of former Indian Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi, was famously refused entry to Pashupatinath when she visited in the 1980s, so mere tourists shouldn’t expect the rules to bend for them.

Posted 26th December 2024

[scotianostra]

December 29th 1914 saw the birth of a Scottish legend, Tom Weir

Tom was born in Springburn, Glasgow the son of a locomotive engineer fitter, he belonged to the first generation of working-class outdoor men and began his career tramping the hills near the city whenever he could escape from the grocers shop where he worked.

The adventurer, is credited as introducing thousands of people to Scotland’s great outdoors through his tales of climbing, walking, nature conservation and campaigning. Tom is also fondly remembered for his long-running STV series, Weir’s Way, and his Scots Magazine column, which he wrote for 50 years.

Tom Weir was a writer, broadcaster, hill-walker, rock-climber, historian, naturalist and explorer. He was a popular sight traipsing across the Scottish countryside in his red bobble hat and Fair Isle jumpers since the 1930s.

There's probably not a single glen or mountain that he hadn't visited. Tom didn't just climb in Scotland, in 1950 he was a member of the first post-war Himalayan expedition and in 1952 was one of the first mountaineers to explore the hitherto closed ranges of Nepal, east of Katmandu.

His travels took him to the High Artic of East Greenland, the peaks of Northern Norway, the High Atlas of Morocco and the troubled frontier of the Iran, Syrian and Turkish Mountain lands known as Kurdistan.

He was the best of Scots and represented all that is good in our Nation. He spread enlightenment and joy wherever he went and will live on in our memories.

To this day the legend lives on with his statue at Balmaha on the shores of Loch Lomond, who hasn't visited and not had their photo taken beside it? Well me and ma wee Sis have, as seen in the pic.

Tom Weir passed away at the grand age of 91, on July 6th 2006, he was buried at in Kilmaronock Parish Church, near Drymen. He was buried in the same plot as the ashes of his big sister the actress Molly Weir.

[roguephenon]

My fan lore on Hoagie’s Dog

Hoagie P. Gilligan Junior-Junior. Double J. “DJ”

Old English Sheepdog with some border collie.

Found by Hoagie as a young pup during a time Hoagie ran away from home. Adopted by Betty after the dog guided him back.

Bonded with the Gilligans but is a free spirit. He likes to wander.

Likes watermelon.

Loves kids.

Hates Lydia. Forcibly herds her back to Sure Would Retirement Home when he is around.

Nigel and Kuki know him. Abby and Wally do not. The latter two just always miss him somehow.

Is an ESA.

Either guides lost kids back home or to KND bases to escape abuse.

Carries emergency root beer in his collar, brewed from fresh Himalayan soda water.

Somehow has an accredited doctorate in being a good boy.

Is the reincarnation of Hoagie’s dad.

[wolfbanesarchive]

Here is one of my many Cult of the Lamb oc. This oc is based off of @whysoblue2 fanfic: "The Last Bishop, The First to Fall". Here is her info:

Her name is Esen, which translates to "wind", she is 23 years old. She is a light brown Himalayan Wolf who lost her lower right leg due a landslide after she escaped from her family, who were going to sacrifice her to Midas. She has befriended the bishops, the Lamb. Narinder, and Tharen; however, she does have a crush on a certain frog but don't tell anyone.