#Lake Express Ferry

[mrsmoose54]

States 46 & 47 (Kenosha WI - Milwaukee WI - Chicago IL) Days 7 & 8

[galaxysupreme17]

Jealousy at the Fair

Y/n = Your Name

AgathaRio x daughter!reader

The Westview carnival was in full swing, with its colorful lights reflecting off the nearby lake and the faint sounds of laughter and music weaving through the air. Y/n dragged her moms through the crowd, pointing excitedly at every booth they passed. They’d already hit the classic games, winning a stuffed fox and a goldfish in a plastic bag, and Y/n was determined they’d conquer the whole carnival before they left.

As they neared the cotton candy stand, a man sidled up to Agatha, his expression overly friendly and his smile wide. “Enjoying the carnival?” he asked, his eyes not leaving her.

Agatha raised an eyebrow, her gaze shifting to the cotton candy. “Yes, it’s lovely,” she replied, her tone polite but distracted. She was more interested in their evening as a family than chatting with a stranger, and she was about to move on when the man spoke again.

“Would you like some cotton candy? On me,” he offered with a smile that bordered on smug, gesturing toward the stand.

Agatha’s eyes flicked down to the wedding ring on her left hand, which she wore proudly and openly, a constant reminder of her family and everything she held dear. But the man seemed either oblivious or unbothered by this detail. Just as Agatha was about to give a polite but firm decline, Rio appeared, gliding smoothly into the conversation.

Without acknowledging the man, Rio wrapped an arm securely around Agatha’s waist, pulling her close. She fixed her wife with a warm smile and spoke as if the stranger simply didn’t exist. “What do you think, darling?” she asked, leaning into Agatha with a soft smile. “Should we get caramel apples and hot chocolate, or maybe one of those big pretzels?”

Agatha caught on immediately, leaning into Rio with a smile that radiated warmth. “Caramel apples, definitely,” she replied, her voice softening. The two gazed at each other with such genuine affection that the man might as well have been invisible.

The stranger huffed, clearly unimpressed by being ignored. With a heavy roll of his eyes, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd.

Once he was out of earshot, Y/n broke into laughter, clapping her hands and leaning against Rio’s shoulder. “Mom! That was amazing! You didn’t even have to look at him!”

Rio smirked, tightening her hold on Agatha as she dropped a playful kiss on her wife’s cheek. “No need to waste my energy on someone who can’t even see what’s right in front of them.” She gave Agatha a quick, soft kiss on the lips, making Y/n scrunch her nose in playful disgust.

“You two are like a rom-com waiting to happen,” Y/n teased, feigning exasperation. “Mom, you’re so protective—it’s like you’re making sure no one even thinks about stealing Mama away!”

Agatha chuckled, brushing a stray lock of hair out of Y/n’s face. “Your mom’s always had a flair for making her point.” She squeezed Rio’s hand. “It’s one of the many reasons I adore her.”

Rio flashed Y/n a grin, clearly pleased with herself. “Well, someone’s got to keep everyone in check. Right, kid?”

“Absolutely,” Y/n replied with a laugh. “I’m just lucky I’m already family, or you’d probably give me the same treatment.” She glanced back at the now-abandoned cotton candy stand. “Think we can grab one of those pretzels on the way to the Ferris wheel?”

“Only if we get caramel apples, too,” Agatha chimed in with a smile.

With an arm still wrapped around Agatha, Rio steered them toward the food stands, indulging Y/n’s every whim and laughing along at her daughter’s antics. After a few games of ring toss and a round at the balloon darts booth, they were stocked with snacks, prizes, and laughter.

As they strolled toward the Ferris wheel, Y/n suddenly stopped, spotting a booth where a small magical flame danced inside a glass sphere. “Ooh, look! They’ve got enchanted trinkets!” she exclaimed, rushing over.

Agatha smiled, following her, and Rio joined, inspecting the various mystical items on display. The carnival vendor noticed her interest and explained that the flames changed colors based on mood. Agatha raised an eyebrow, turning to Rio. “Care to test it out, love?”

Rio chuckled, stepping up to the orb. She placed her hand over it, and the flame flared a deep, rich blue. “What does that mean?” she asked, half-curious, half-amused.

The vendor grinned. “Blue is for calm. It means you feel… well, at home.” He gestured toward Agatha, who was watching Rio with a smile, warmth evident in her gaze. “And that, I’d guess, has something to do with it.”

Rio and Agatha shared a tender look. Each lost in the other’s eyes for a moment. Y/n pretended to gag, though her smile betrayed her happiness. “Seriously, I can’t take you two anywhere.”

Agatha wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders, giving her a playful squeeze. “You’ll understand one day.”

They finally made their way to the Ferris wheel, settling into one of the carts just as the first fireworks burst above them. The colors exploded in a dazzling display, casting hues of pink, green, and gold across the dark sky. Y/n leaned her head back, sipping her hot chocolate as the cart slowly rose, watching her moms.

Rio slid her arm around Agatha’s shoulders, pulling her close as they watched the show. Agatha rested her head on Rio’s shoulder, a smile gracing her lips as she made eye contact with her daughter.

As the ride ended, they made their way back through the crowds, Agatha’s hand tucked in Rio’s and Y/n walking beside them, still clutching her stuffed fox and occasional cotton candy bites. The energy of the evening lingered, and their laughter and closeness filled the night with a warmth that outshone the glow of carnival lights.

As they left the carnival, Y/n looped her arm through Agatha’s and leaned her head against her mom’s shoulder. “Tonight was perfect,” she murmured, a hint of a smile in her voice.

Rio smirked, nudging her daughter. “And we have the carnival’s resident gentleman caller to thank for it, don’t we?”

Y/n snorted, rolling her eyes. “Mom, I don’t think he’ll ever try his luck around you again. You were terrifying.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Rio replied with a wink. “I’ll do it again if it means protecting my gorgeous wife.”

They all laughed, their voices echoing in the quiet night as they strolled toward home. Secure in each other’s love and laughter. They had memories of the perfect carnival night tucked safely in their hearts.

[loveinhawkins]

kept thinking about Eddie & Steve deliberately making jokes to ensure that Dustin and co don’t get into the boat on Lover’s Lake.

“Nicely done,” Steve says when they’re far enough away from the bank—when they’ve left a disgruntled Dustin behind rather than a worried one.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” Eddie says—glances back to where the kids are, although they’ve already got swallowed up by the darkness. “‘Course, man.” He gives a weak smile as he drags the oar through the water. “Those little shrimps would probably try and, like, cannonball right in, and honestly? I, uh, really don’t think my heart could handle that.”

“Yeah, they… really throw themselves into things.”

Steve decides that he’s never gonna bring up Operation Child Endangerment if Eddie’s in the vicinity—the dude already looks at them all like they’ve got a few screws loose, he doesn’t wanna make it worse.

Although, on second thought, him and Dustin probably let that particular cat out the bag with their persistent optimism way back in the boathouse: “There’s nothing to worry about.”

Eddie’s wide-eyed look painted a thousand words.

Oh, he thinks you’re crazy, sing-songed the perpetual high schooler hiding in Steve’s brain. Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson thinks you’re crazy. Time to seriously re-evaluate your life choices.

“Did you think Eddie was a bit, uh, weird back there?” Dustin asked him later. “Like, he’ll be okay, right?”

Dustin was prone to using ‘weird’ as a catch-all term, where it could mean anything from someone being genuinely weird to them experiencing severe emotional distress.

Steve clapped him on the shoulder reassuringly. “Henderson, I’m pretty sure he thinks we’re weird.”

He almost wants to make a joke about that now, get Eddie to laugh, maybe. To tell the truth, Steve had almost cracked and laughed himself once he’d gotten into the boat, when he turned and saw Dustin’s comically outraged expression.

It was only as Nancy and Eddie began to row that he registered the laugh would’ve secretly been one of relief—heartened by the sight of the kids left on the shore.

He stays quiet; Eddie’s shoulders are slowly tensing more and more the further across the lake they go.

It’s not noticeable at first—Robin’s providing a running commentary on the movements of Dustin’s compass, while Nancy determinedly pulls her oar in and out of the water—but Steve soon realises that Eddie’s kind of stopped rowing, instead just making ripples as his grip goes slack.

It’s damn hard to see, but Steve just barely makes out Eddie’s eyes glittering in the dark, staring down at the lake.

“Hey,” Steve says quietly. “You don’t have to—we’re not too far out, we can take you back, man.” He tries for levity. “This thing holds three people tops, remember?”

Eddie’s smile is more of a grimace. “Nah, man. Had enough of being chickenshit.”

“Dude, you’re not…”

Steve trails off, biting back his frustration—it doesn’t look like Eddie’s listening to him anyway; he’s still not taken his eyes off the water. Steve briefly wonders if he’s got that thing Robin says she gets sometimes, something about an imp—it’s why she never gets on Ferris wheels or whatever, convinced that she’s somehow gonna fall.

Eddie gives himself a shake and resumes rowing.

“Sorry. S’just… pitch black down there. He—” Eddie clears his throat. “He wouldn’t have seen—”

His voice cracks, fades into the night. His grip on the oar slips—he snatches it back before it can fall.

“Eddie,” Steve begins, but Eddie speaks right over the top of him.

“I—I hoped he was just drowning instead.” Eddie scoffs, and there’s a bitterness to it, an edge of self-loathing that Steve wishes he couldn’t hear. “And then maybe—” A sigh, another grimace disguised as a smile. “That’s a pretty fucked up thing to think, huh?”

He’s got that tone, Steve thinks, like when he kept repeating that he ran away from Chrissy—like he thought that if he said it enough, someone would snap, condemn him. Like he’s looking for proof that he’s monstrous.

Robin’s still talking, tactfully giving Eddie a semblance of privacy. Underneath her chatter, Steve hears Nancy’s rowing falter for just a moment, and he feels a pang in his chest.

He thinks of Barb and drowning. Wonders again if an ordinary tragedy would’ve been better compared to…

Then he lets it all sink back down.

“That’s not fucked up,” he says firmly. “Trust me, dude, that’s… that’s normal.”

Eddie chuckles shortly—it sounds like he’s doing something similar, pushing everything down, down…

“Normal, huh? No-one’s called me that before.”

“First time for everything.”

There’s a flicker of amusement across Eddie’s face when he replies, “Guess compared to you freaks, I’m pretty normal.”

“Ooh, did that feel good?” Steve says, appealing again to his mental high schooler. “Bit of role reversal?”

Eddie laughs more genuinely. “Sure did. Community theatre’s done wonders.”

A silence falls, and Steve encourages himself to get all relaxed by the boat bobbing up and down. Yeah, nothing’s strictly been confirmed yet, but he already knew what he was getting into when he stepped off the shore, water leaking into his shoes.

It’s gotta be him.

“I know what you’re doing, Harrington,” Eddie murmurs.

Steve gives him a questioning look.

Eddie pulls in some long breaths in exaggerated imitation. “You’re not subtle, Mister Swim Captain.”

“Co-captain,” Steve corrects, hiding his surprise. He can’t really imagine Eddie paying attention to the swim team, least of all a former swim team.

“Oh, forgive me for my inaccuracy.”

Hmm, he’s getting borderline poetic, Steve thinks. Like he was with Mordor and stuff.

So. He’s afraid.

“I’ll be fine,” Steve says lightly.

Eddie lets out a short groan, mutters something that sounds like famous last words. Then, quieter still—Steve can’t quite make it out.

Something about the dark.

Steve could repeat that he’ll be fine, but he knows that’s a shit reassurance. He settles for continuing to breathe in and out, long and slow; Eddie’s beginning to look like he’s unconsciously mimicking the pattern, his shoulders lowering.

“Just come back up, Harrington,” he says, so softly that Steve might’ve imagined it.

“Co-captain’s promise,” he says.

Eddie’s lips twitch. But he’s still fixed on the lake’s depths, like he’s waiting for something—dreading it.

Like something’s lurking in the dark.

[geekednori]

ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ

🎧 ғᴀᴋᴇ ᴘʟᴀsᴛɪᴄ ᴛʀᴇᴇs ʀᴀᴅɪᴏʜᴇᴀᴅ ↻ ◁ ɪɪ ▷ ↺

.・。.・゜✭・.

Once Andie's head made contact with the feathery pillow, her eyelids immediately shut.

In her wildest dreams, the events that occurred that day replayed in a more magical and imaginative way. She plunged into the cool embrace of the deep green lake. Nothing but pure bliss and her heart at peace. Andie delighted in the shades of green.

The refreshing sensation of the water lingered on her skin in contrast to the warm rays of sunshine that kissed her skin. Spring was here, casting its spell on the forest, leaving it a vibrant and lush sanctuary of tranquility and beauty. Amidst nature's splendor, she discovered a profound sense of joy, simply by being the happiest version of her herself.

Upon waking, there seemed to be another source of warmth besides the covers she laid under. A cat with a brown coat similar to Bean's, curled against her side.

"Good morning," Andie cooed, "You must be Moka."

Andie followed the alluring scent of warm pancakes to find Luca in the kitchen with breakfast already made. Although he suggested for her to take her time, she couldn't contain her eagerness to explore as Luca had planned to show her around.

Bean came along the journey, endearing himself to Andie even more when she learned that he was a mighty protector and obedient dog. They ferried across a vast lake to a small town on the other side of shore. Luca preferred the excitement of boat travel over driving through the crummy roads.

It was a quaint and humble town. Walking beside Luca, she observed how small it truly was, seeing as he greeted each townsfolk by name. The contrast to her New York City life made her realize how much she had missed out on.

"Do you mind if I ask what you do?" Andie asked breathlessly as they hiked up a hill, with the promise of a gorgeous view at the end. She was curious to know about his occupation given the house he lived in and the amount of leisure time her had.

"I own some of the local businesses here." Luca answered confidently, "I inherited them from my grandfather."

She smiled, appreciating the humility in his words.

"And, your siblings?"

"I'm actually an only child. But I know one of my cousins inherited real estate and the other got his college tuition paid."

Her eyes widened. "Wow, can your grandfather adopt me?"

"I'm sure he would if he was still alive." He laughed.

Andie's expression softened, worried that she might've tugged on the wrong sting. Though, the smile on Luca's face remained.

"My parents often went on business trips, so much of my childhood was spent in the care of my grandparents." Luca explained, digging his hands into his pockets.

"Despite my bond with my parents, my relationship with my grandfather grew especially strong during high school. When I came out to my parents and they initially rejected me, grandpa was there for me with open arms."

"I'm sorry.." she said softly.

"It's okay! It wasn't long till my parents came around and have been the best support one could have. I'm definitely lucky to have had a family who loved me enough to look past their differences." He responded, smiling.

Andie smiled back, feeling relieved that there was no tension.

"It was also prosperity for me."

Andie had known Luca for only a day, but she was beyond joyous that he received what he deserved.

Reaching the end of their hike, the view as promised was photogenic as ever, with a canopy of trees below. True to Luca's word, stunning and inspiring.

She hurried to get her art supplies. Luca watched with curiosity as she set up her easel and prepared the spread of colors. He went on to ask about her techniques, favorite painters, and her thoughts on art and life. Though not well-versed in art, Luca's wisdom belied in his young age.

Often times Andie would get carried away by the sound of his laugh, the value of his words and the sight of him to focus on what she had originally decided to paint. Eventually, she had stopped glancing at the view and instead let her brush stroke the canvas according to how she felt.

Layers of green tones formed, creating a landscape that captured the essence of Luca. It wasn't a portrait, but a reflection of him in nature. A single glance at the painting evoked an image of Luca in all his splendor.

"It beautiful," He whispered beside her.

Andie tore her gaze from the painting to Luca, "Yes, it is."

Returning home, they settled on the couch with dinner and a movie. But the movie was merely background noise, Andie's focus remained on learning more about Luca and his life.

Turned out, he had eyes on a pharmacist in town. He had the courage to ask for his number a few days prior but hesitated to make the call. Eventually, with a little persuasion and a few glasses of wine, Luca took the plunge. Thanks to her, he has a date set for Friday night.

"Luca," Andie whispered, noticing him drifting off to sleep.

"Hm?" He murmured, one eye cracking open she scooted closer. Tentatively, she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder like a child seeking comfort. He chuckled, eyes remaining shut as he nestled his head atop hers.

"Thank you," She whispered, shutting her eyes to refrain from letting her eyes gloss with tears. "For everything."

"Of course, Andie." He replied, sinking deeper into the couch with her at his side.

Bean settled on her lap, providing warmth as Andie struggled to keep her eyes open, distracted by the flickering TV light. Uncertainty about her next stop filled her with both excitement and fear.

As dawn broke, casting a silhouette of trees against the curtains, Andie knew it was time to leave. Slowly, she untangled herself from Luca's embrace and gently lifted Bean from her lap. His tail wagged eagerly as she led him to the bathroom, where he waited patiently outside as she changed.

Leaving her number on a Post-It, Andie kissed the top of Bean's head, a. gentle stroke down Moka's back as she had joined to see her out, and tousled Luca's hair before slipping out of the house.

Driving down the winding roads, she mentally captured the treasure she'd stumble upon after misreading the map and taking the wrong exit en route to the airport.

ᴍᴏsᴀɪᴄ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ғᴏᴜʀ

[cedarboughs]

Hiking Journal: The West Coast Trail

Day V: Crabshack Blues

September 1

Cribs Creek to Tsusiat Falls

The new month, not that such things had any meaning on the Trail, dawned in a thick fog. We couldn’t even see the Cribs rising at the shore as we packed up the tents. The trees were painted in a gentle newly faded palette, though the myriad flotsam bouys still coloured every branch around the campsite.

When we clambered up onto the rock to trek along the Cribs, leaping sea lions appeared like sleek silver ghosts arcing through the waves.

Please appreciate this video because it took like twenty minutes to upload. And, you know, four days of hiking to shoot, but that’s further in the past right now. The buffering is present.

The first starfish!

The morning trail passed through many small pockets of Ditidaht land. Past the cute cabins of Clo-ose village, along a hard climb, an old sewing machine rusts beside the trail.

Boardwalks and bridges are wonderfully maintained and easy to walk here, or should be, but I guess the sum of kilometres was beginning to wear on me. I faded quickly here, needing what seemed like an embarrassing volume of snacks and rest to maintain the energy to walk. It was a relief to at last see the waters of Nitinaht Narrows.

This tidal connection of lake to sea is more or less the halfway point of the West Coast Trail. A ferry bridges the gap as well as taking people in and out of the village of Nitinaht an hour’s putter inland up the lake if they only wanted to trek half of the route. I would have been tempted, but that was a decision to make after I was full of crabmeat.

The ferry dock also serves the freshest, best, least freeze-dried meals on the whole Trail. A freshwater giant Dungeness crab, the only ones in the world, fished out of the lake within the hour of service, will set a trekker back eighty-five dollars, but when else will you have a meal like this? Money isn’t a real concept on the Trail anyway. We got salmon, too.

While we waited on our order, “Hippie Doug,” who’s been the ferryman for almost fifty years, showed us his photos.

Our table at the crabshack was like a reunion of our northbound group. F—— and S——- were there, along with C—— and another of her fellow Regina nurses whose name I can’t remember and it doesn’t matter since I’m censoring them like a nineteenth-century novel anyway. The “Sema Four” had come up from Portland. Apparently one of the couples was trying to teach the semaphore alphabet to the other. The Sema Four were staying at the crabshack tonight along with the nurses. It sounded like it would be a good party. Sure, it was forty dollars per tent and the tents would be crammed in side by side on the porch; on the other hand, it was another hard, muddy, inland seven kilometres to the next campsite at Tsusiat Falls.

And that's how the drama began.

Mom didn't want to carry on, but wouldn't insist on it. Dad didn't want to spend eighty bucks on a likely sleepless night. A few scattered words went back and forth, but to no avail. Eventually, newly full of crab energy (at least I was,) we shouldered packs and moved on.

The ferry ride across the channel was nice. Hippie Doug pointed out the fleeing hind legs and tail of a river otter disappearing up the north bank into the bush.

But north of the bank the vibes quickly turned rancid. Mom marched ahead without waiting, checking, or stopping, a passive agressive (though not especially passive) sort of expression of an easily parsable sentiment: you wanted to go, so we’re going, and that means going ceaselessly forward without help or advice or patience, not even where bridges are entirely collapsed down treacherous slopes. No waiting to stick together even to put gaiters on before plowing forth past shin-deep mud patches. When we caught up, it was to disparaging remarks about our speed, and we trudged on in terse bitter silence. I desperately wanted to make peace, but it was hard to find neutral ground. We needed time, but time the way we were going was just making everyone more exhausted.

I managed a few good words of accord before the return to the beach, four gruelling inland kilometres past the crabshack. It was still a long misty beach trek to Tsusiat. Somewhere there, though, we passed the flip of the two sided map. Whatever happened now, and however impossible the first few days had seemed, it was beyond any doubt or question now that we were in the latter half in the trek, going out. From here on or likely earlier, every step no longer took us deeper into the wild, but took us closer to the comforts of the grid.

Some writing says that the “Hole in the Rock” is the most iconic view on the Trail. I don’t know how it ranks personally — it’s not visible from very far away, compared to the wide arc of Carmanah or the slope of the Cribs — but it’s a cool spot for sure. The tide was too high to pass through the south-side surge channel and climb or circle around to the hole, but we could double back from the north and stand beneath the natural arch, nearly lapped by water on either side.

It was a joy to see the coloured tents of Tsusiat down the beach. This is a beautiful campsite tucked below towering sandstone cliffs. Water is collected for dinner boiling beneath a grand waterfall.

[calicohyde]

The light in the room is pink. Ferris's cat eyes see it mostly as a sort of rosy gray, but he recognizes the giant salt lamp stretching all across the mantle and remembers the hue from his past as a human, with color-sensitive rods and cones and all. The women sitting in their typical circle in the center of the room appear to Ferris in tinted shades of gray as well. There are thirteen of them. A… volatile number.

It's the usual number. The nine crones of the Shaw coven are hosting four crones from the Bellefontaine coven, their neighbor to the West. It's always arranged for a meeting like this that the total attendees will come to thirteen. The witches think it's a lucky number. Ferris doesn't believe in luck, personally, not to mention that if he did he wouldn't foolishly assume "lucky" could only mean the good kind. 

Where the Bellefontaine coven is concerned that's all irrelevant anyway. They only have the four crones to send. They pride themselves on being exclusive, not that it does them any favors magic wise, for Ferris's money. He figures they're mostly just rich and they only like other flush types. But he also figures that's their business. It's not like he has to live with them.

As is also usual, in the West corner of the room there is a crystal bowl of rainwater set out by the Shaw witches to honor the Bellefontaine, and in the South corner a sputtering red pillar candle brought along by the Bellefontaines from their own coven house to honor their gracious hosts. The rest of the circle is cast only with the women's bodies in their rearranged and mismatching chairs, informal.

The atmosphere that's meant to achieve would probably be a little easier to reach if anyone at the meeting was actually friendly.

Ferris is mostly ignoring them all. They're arguing over which coven the Creve Coeur lake belongs to (as if a lake could belong to anyone), and it mostly just strikes him as whiny posturing. It's a whole ass body of water; there's no reason they can't share it, aside from their own fragile egos. Humans are such babies.

"As a Southern coven you hardly need access to that volume of natural water to do your spellwork," one of the Bellefontaine crones is insisting. Her name is Camille Fay, and her tone is less than diplomatic. She's the youngest crone of her coven at fifty-eight, but she still acts like she's the wisest damn person on the whole of the earth. Ferris hates every fiber of her being, from her silvering blonde hair down to her sensible flats. Usually he doesn't get to express that feeling much. Happily for him, his job tonight is to have an opinion. For once he'll be able to let his mistress know all about it.

"On the contrary," a Shaw crone, Nubia, responds. Her voice is quiet and calm but as unyielding as steel. That's how her whole personality is, as far as Ferris has ever been able to tell. He knows her a little better than he might if only Nine, her snooty familiar, wasn't always getting on his furry ass. "The element doesn't come as easily to us as our own. We can gain more from the resource than you."

"Sisters, please," interrupts Breanne, another Shaw crone. Her voice is croaky with both accent and age. She's the eldest crone in attendance. Ferris doesn't even know how old she is, but from the way her aura fills rooms he'd guess probably old enough that none of his little magic tricks work on her anymore. He's not daft enough to try asking her. "The simplest course is to share the lake. It's already split by the borders of our covens, we might as well just keep it that way."

"Please forgive us, Crone Clearly. You must understand why we wouldn't want to share magical space with…" Camille pauses, pursing her lips in the most contrived thoughtful moue Ferris has ever seen. He's glad he can't see the shade of her lipstick, or he'd probably be put off the color for the rest of his lives. Finally Camille finishes her sentence, her tone making it obvious that she'd rather use a much less politically correct word. "Clairvoyants."

"No," Breanne replies, harder now than Nubia has ever been. She's right to be. Ferris comes from a time long before Camille's, and he even knows that all the dogshit everyone says about clairvoyants is just that - dogshit. He knows it now, and he damn well knew it back then too. "I'm afraid we can't understand that at all." She leaves it at that and Ferris sniffs. If he were in charge here, he would have cast a little something special to bring the point home.

Instead of backing up her superior, Nubia coolly tells Camille, "We don't have any clairvoyants in our coven," as if Breanne had never spoken.

There's a long silence. The air in the room chills and the salt lamp flickers briefly in an effort to stay on in the sudden onset of negativity. Breanne's aura darkens noticeably, though she - too mercifully, in Ferris's opinion - refrains from reproaching Nubia in front of their guests. Ferris shivers at the feeling of her anger, but he has his own rage to contend with too. The Shaw coven does have clairvoyants in it - two of them, and it would have another if Nubia and her likeminds hadn't practically hanged the third themselves!

"The Shaw coven proposes that we maintain the current borders, and share the lake," Breanne says officiously, holding her anger behind her teeth with long-practiced skill (a skill Ferris himself has never learned and doesn't have any plans to, though he supposes it's respectable enough in her case). "Let's convene a moment to discuss the motion privately."

The mood lifts, barely, as all thirteen witches rise. Tradition and decorum dictate that they all present some level of camaraderie to each other as neighbors regardless of their disagreements. Of course, craftism isn't what Ferris would call a disagreement, but he's only been around for a century so what could he possibly know about anything.

Ferris ignores the shitty atmosphere and the bad taste in his mouth at great cost to his patience, not that he ever has much of that to start with. It's amazing the shit he has to put up with in this being-a-familiar biz. Sometimes it can get hard for him to remember what fucking year it is, when living people still manage to think so backwards.

Whatever. It's like he said; at least he doesn't have to live with them. With her. If he had been reborn Camille's familiar he thinks he might have gone into the regular cat life instead, power and extra lives be damned. As it is, he has a mistress who fits his sensibilities much better, thank the Gods. If only she'd quit giving him such tedious jobs.

Ferris waits impatiently by the heavy double doors as the Bellefontaine crones kiss cheeks and exchange brief, disingenuous pleasantries with the Shaw crones. He knows his pale orange fur makes a stark contrast against the backdrop of shiny dark wood, but unfortunately that flare will be lost on the Bellefontaine witches. Ferris carries some of his mistress's power with him when he does her work. He can't be seen unless he makes a particular point of it. 

The four Bellefontaine witches file over and exit the pink-glowing room in a line, with Camille leading the way. Ferris follows them out, careful to keep his tail out of the way of the closing door.

Ferris watches in silence - and boredom - as the witches discuss Breanne's movement to share the lake. One crone thinks it fair, one is indifferent. The eldest Bellefontaine crone - Justine or Josefine or something, Ferris doesn't remember or care - hears them both out without showing any reaction. Camille watches her with a sour look, her gaze pointed.

"Speak, Crone Fay," the elder says eventually. "You obviously have a strong opinion." Camille draws herself up to her full height, taller than her fellows by virtue of her relative youth, and steps forward. It's easy to tell she hasn't been listening to her coven sisters, only waiting for their turn to speak to be over.

"I am extremely hesitant to share my magical space and resources with them," she sneers. Ferris's hackles rise, but he manages to stop himself short of acting. "They'll taint the purity of the natural water! It's only a fact, Crone Sommer, you know the history. They spread their magic sickness everywhere they go. If they go to the lake, we won't be able to. Not safely. How is that fair, when it's ours to begin with?"

Ferris pants through his mouth, trying to avoid the tar-like scent of Camille's self righteousness. If there's any grace among the Bellefontaine coven, Sommer will shut down Camille's dogshit. The eldest are meant to be the wisest, after all. Surely she must know the "history" Camille referred to is a long legacy of widespread slander, at a generous description.

Sommer sighs. "We have to function within these new times, Crone Fay," she murmurs. "Our sisters in the Shaw coven won't welcome us to the resources inside their borders if we refuse to grant them access to ours."

Ferris's teeth itch. So much for growing with age. Not to mention that as Breanne pointed out, only half of the Creve Coeur lake is inside the Bellefontaine borders as they stand.

"Fine," Camille snaps. She folds her arms. Ferris is shocked she doesn't stomp her foot too. Gods almighty. "A compromise then. We can share the lake with the Shaw coven, as long as the sixers don't muddy it. It shouldn't be a problem since they said they aren't part of the coven anyway. And if we catch them causing trouble, we should be permitted to step in."

The fur along Ferris's spine stands on end, his skin underneath it crawling with revulsion. His teeth hurt now, with the urge to retaliate. That might just be a word nowadays, might have been just a word for as long as Camille Fay has known it, but when Ferris was living his first life people said that when they were locking clairvoyants up in old houses and leaving them there to wither away into hauntings. It hasn't even been a decade since the taboo passed against abandoning clairvoyants to the 'treatment' inflicted on them by non-witches - and that's the word people use when they break it.

"There's no need for crass language," says the witch who had first supported Breanne's movement. It's not really a reprimand; her tone is light, and 'crass'? That hardly even begins to cover it.

"Language aside," Sommer says, and she's smiling. Ferris holds in a hiss, letting the guttural thing squirm in the back of his throat and make him gag rather than alert these repulsive women to his presence. "Your compromise sounds perfectly reasonable to me."

Ferris doesn't bother to follow again when the Bellefontaine witches return to the pink-lit meeting room. He knows well enough already that the Shaw crones will agree to their so-called compromise, treading all over the already trodden clairvoyants supposedly under their cloak. Nubia isn't the only one on the Tier with craftist ideals, and even Breanne can't overrule a majority choice. Maybe if they'd heard what Camille had said things would be different, but they hadn't and it's not within Ferris's abilities to tell them about it.

The meeting is over in a matter of minutes and Camille is the one to lead the Bellefontaine crones out the dark double doors again, the extinguished red pillar candle cradled in her hands.

"You don't think any of us will see one of the clairvoyants in our park, do you?" one of her peers asks her.

"Don't worry, sister," Camille says, sounding almost eager. "I know exactly what to do to those motherless things if we do see one."

The lights all go out with a crack. Ferris slinks away in the sudden darkness. He didn't mean to do that, but it serves them all right. He hopes every one of them bumps into something sharp.

Hours pass and Ferris still seethes. He knows Fred and Eddie - the clairvoyants in question - are both grown-ups who can take care of themselves, but to him they're still just kittens. And regardless, the Alfaro siblings are only the clairvoyants in question this time. Who knows what Camille Fay has planned for them or who else she might set her malevolent sights on.

The pads of his paws leave smears in old incense dust as Ferris paces back and forth across his mistress's window sill altar. She doesn't do much magic during the day, her temperament much more suited to the sleeker energy of the moonlight, so she isn't here to see him ruminate. She's probably just gone to bed, a few rooms away. The ash Ferris kicks up swirls around in sparkling motes in the early dawn light leaking through the glass pane. He can't bring himself to appreciate the beauty of it when all he can think about is the hideous rot living barely thirty miles away.

Camille Fay, and the rest of her elitist coven, are not the only craftists in St. Louis. Not by far. Even the Shaw coven, arguably the second most progressive St. Louisan coven is filled to the brim with them, though none quite so blatant. But Ferris can't do anything about all of them. He feels so Gods-damned helpless against the insidiousness of it sometimes he could just explode. The fucking hypocrites will go on and on about the clairvoyant "sickness" when they're the ones spreading their awful spiritual rot. Ferris can feel it in his fur sometimes, trying to sink into him and erode his power. It's no wonder craftists feel weaker around clairvoyants. The irony is that they only have themselves to blame.

There's no telling them that though. Ferris has no voice, except to other cats, and people like that would hardly find him worth listening to even if he could speak. He swipes a paw at the array of crystals lined up along the wide sill in frustration, knocking some amethyst and lepidolite onto the carpeted floor with two muted thunks.

He can't stay here, pacing and fuming, going stagnant and bitter. Ferris's mistress has him watching this and keeping an eye on that, and he acts on nothing. He doesn't generally have a proactive kind of personality (less go-with-the-flow and more stay-right-here), but for once in all three of his lives Ferris simply can't stand to sit still. If Camille decides to act on her implicit threat, running home to tattle on her just isn't going to cut it. Not this time.

Ferris leaps down from the window altar, unintentionally taking a piece of labradorite with him. He pauses, considering waking his mistress up to let her know, but discards the thought. He doubts she'd support him taking any kind of direct action, nevermind the kind he's starting to warm up to right now. He's not in the mood to be stopped.

Soft paws avoid the creaky parts of the stairs with expert ease as Ferris makes his way toward the front door. Witches always want to have mysterious comings and goings, so it's used less than the back door is. Even if he's not the only one awake Ferris is less likely to be intercepted if he goes out this way. 

There's a narrow window that is always left open in the entryway, because as a general rule familiars like Ferris do not take too kindly to using cat flaps. He leaps lightly up onto the pillar table, onto the sill, and out into the rapidly rewarming air of the city.

Ferris doesn't set off straight away. He sits in the middle of the sidewalk, looking off into the West. His tail sweeps back and forth behind him, brushing aside the soft green leaves that fell from the maple in the yard overnight. Camille Fay and the rest of her coven will have arrived back at their coven house several hours ago. They're probably all asleep. And what with their all too obvious opinions about clairvoyants, there's very little chance any of them know he's coming. Even if someone tried to warn them, and even if they believed that person, there's no chance in hell they would expect Ferris to actually arrive this morning.

The Shaw coven house, where last night's meeting took place, is in South St. Louis (hence the burning candle, fire, to honor them). The Bellefontaines are in the West; rich bitch water witches. Their coven house is all the way out in Ballwin. That's over thirty miles, and a very long distance to go on four paws.

At least it would be, for anything on four paws other than Ferris.

In his first life Ferris was a tectonist, an earth mover. He couldn't take all of his abilities with him into reincarnation, but familiars retain just a touch of what made them powerful as a human, twisted around to be useful as a soul companion to a living witch. Ferris doesn't know how it all works exactly, and he doesn't care, he's just glad he doesn't have to walk everywhere like- Well, like an animal. 

Ferris's old powers have translated into a sort of… distance warping. For every step over land that Ferris takes, he can travel many more. It's not really that much less work, but at least it's quicker.

So Ferris sits, and he stares off into the West towards the Bellefontaine coven house thirty miles away, sweeping his tail back and forth, and he gathers his power. His mistress will probably feel him using it, but it's like he said: she has him running around all over the place spying on people, so with any luck she'll just assume he's finally taken some initiative. It's like taking a deep breath, pulling his magic around him. He feels it mainly as a strength in his heart and a warmth in his paws. When he feels fortified enough, Ferris stands and takes a step.

The smell of warm bread fills Ferris's nose as he passes by Vitale's Bakery in The Hill, getting ready to open. Another step and the fountain in the Clifton Heights park babbles in his ears. He moves on past the university, through the sculpture park, the conservation area, and circles around a little to avoid that last Starbucks which no doubt will be teaming with people now that the sun has fully risen. Fuck if he knows what day of the week it is, but he's not willing to risk getting trampled in a before-work coffee rush.

Ferris takes smaller steps through the Bellefontaines' neighborhood, until finally he's walking without magical enhancement, squinting in the bright sunlight at every ostentatious manor house he passes. He'll know the one the coven lives in without any trouble, even though he's never been here before. Even folks without any witchy gifts can tell a coven house when they see one; they're so lousy with magic there's no way not to notice something. It just happens that Ferris figures everyone else on this street probably deserves a good hard stare from an unfamiliar and suspiciously focused cat first thing in the morning.

When he finally reaches the looming monstrosity that is the Bellefontaine coven house, Ferris has worked himself back up into a frothing tizzy. The coven house looms up above the street, a mansion among manors. The siding is too-pristine white, the shutters a too-deep blue, all the windows delicately frosted. It's framed on either side by trees that are fuller and lusher than any plant in their neighbors' yards. The front walk is long and lined on both sides with lamb's ear, and on the open brick porch are huge pots of aromatic mint. The tarry smear of hateful magic can't be contained by its walls; Ferris can feel it dirtying him from here. He sneers, showing his long bicuspids underneath a curled lip.

Camille's threat echoes in Ferris's mind. She knows 'what to do' with clairvoyants, huh? Well Ferris knows what to do with craftists, how 'bout that.

Ferris trots up the walk, still just as unconcerned with being seen as he was listening in on the Bellefontaine crones' conversation last night. He peers up at the house again from between the mint bushes on the porch, checking one window and then the other to see which one is open. When he spots it, Ferris lifts himself up onto the lip of the left mint pot and then springs onto the sill. Another familiar is sitting there on the inside, a Siamese. She maiows questioningly at him, but she doesn't smell or feel like Camille so he ignores her.

The indoor sill is actually a platform, covered by a plush velvet purple cushion with bright white trim and tassels. It's just as ostentatious as the exterior of the house. There must be some kind of spell on it to keep it from getting covered in fur. Wasteful. Ferris doesn't doubt the rest of the decor here will match. He resolves to pay as little attention as possible.

Camille's room is as easy to find as the coven house was; the way Ferris can feel her magic leaking out around the slightly ajar door is like standing next to an open sewer when the city is at its hottest and most humid. Ferris paws down his revulsion and enters.

The exact bedroom he'd expect from a well-off water witch is what greets Ferris on the other side of the door. The floor is covered wall to wall with deeply plush, pale carpet. The bed, a queen, is by the double windows, which are dressed on either side with sheer white curtains and have prisms hanging all across. There are several high bookshelves filled with crumbling old tomes, each topped by a thriving water plant with their roots all on display in their clear crystal vases. Camille is at the dresser, dark heavy wood and a huge vanity mirror, digging through the top drawer.

Ferris sits just inside and watches her. Impulse and rage carried him all the way here, and the latter hasn't died down one bit from arriving. Camille is dangerous, evil, a fast acting poison to the city that Ferris loves. But Ferris is only barely more than a cat. He can't threaten her, and if he did it would be taken as from his mistress, and a bribe is just the same. Both options are beyond Ferris's abilities, and unreliable besides. Ferris wants his city to be safe - he needs it to be. He's spent over a century here and he knows every last corner of it, as constantly changing as it is. He knows its spirit.

Camille Fay is nothing special. Not unusual, no anomaly. She has always been here, and she is everywhere. But all the same, she does not belong.

Ferris makes his way to the top of one of Camille's bookshelves in three bounds, curling his body around behind the water plant on top. It's a tight fit, he's quite fat, but he ignores the squeeze in favor of watching Camille from his new vantage point. She hums to herself as she opens the miniature boudoir thing atop the dresser to select the day's jewels. He hates her. She has to go. She chooses diamonds set in gold: earrings that stretch her lobes with their weight, a necklace just shy of gaudy, and a ring nearly as big as the prisms in the window. She turns her head back and forth to catch and reflect the light, giving herself a smug look in the mirror.

Ferris holds back a snort. Oh, but isn't Camille Fay simply the finest specimen on earth? Surely only the most gold- and furs-laden mourners will be allowed at her funeral. Ferris can't wait to not show.

Of course, that would be in poor taste even if he were properly dressed. Since he's going to murder her and all.

Yes, he's finally decided on it fully. He's prepared to follow through. It's not like he's never killed or caused death before, in this life and in the lives previous. Truly it's a favor anyway. To the Bellefontaine coven. Three crones is certainly a better number than four, and Camille is very rude besides. It's not that Camille deserves to die necessarily, though the argument could easily be made, but more that everyone else deserves to live without her. Ferris can only imagine what would happen were Camille Fay to become the Bellefontaines' senior crone and then for a clairvoyant to be born in West County. Best to remove her before anyone has to find out.

Camille stands up from her vanity and moves away into the walk in closet on the other side of the room. Ferris stays sunk down behind the water plant on top of the bookshelf and contemplates what's available to him. Without thumbs it's very difficult for him to wield any weapons. He shifts restlessly, looking around the room for something opportune, and the crystal vase of the water plant scrapes heavily on the shelf top when he accidentally nudges it. He pauses in his perusal of the room, turning his attention to the plant instead. He nudges it purposefully now and it scrapes along, closer to the edge of the shelf.

Perfect.

Camille comes back out of the closet, pausing at the doorway to slip her feet into the gold flats she's chosen for the day. Ferris watches her now with the eyes of a hunter. He can feel his energy building up in his hind legs as if to pounce, though he knows in this case he'll be doing no such thing. Camille ambles closer, slipping a woven jacket over her shoulders. Ferris rotates his shoulders. Closer. Come closer.

Idly, Camille browses her shelves as she applies her lipstick (another subtle color that Ferris can't quite see). She smiles the same smug smile at some of the titles that she did at her diamonds. Does she even read them? Probably not unless someone impressionable is watching. Ferris hopes the books will go to the coven and all the young witches will get to read them, once he's done his deed. Camille comes ever closer.

Finally Camille is just beneath him, and Ferris stands abruptly, throwing his weight against the backside of the water plant. It makes a horrendous scrape against the wood as it moves, and Camille looks up to see it tip towards her head.

It's then that Ferris lets her see him. Just so that she knows, in her final moments, that she is the one to have been dealt with.

Her eyes focus on him, wide, as she gasps, and then the water plant in its heavy crystal vase hits her with a muted crunch. Camille and her plant topple to the floor. Water from the vase sinks into the plush carpet. Moments later, it's joined by blood from Camille's head. Ferris watches it spread for a moment, vibrant enough against its pale surroundings for him to see its redness. He disappears himself back into magically assured unobrustiveness when he hears footsteps rushing near.

There are exclamations of the names of various Gods as the young witches who crowd inside see Camille's body on the floor. As the eldest of the group sends the youngest off to collect the crones Ferris slips, perfectly unnoticed, back out the door, down the stairs, and to the open entryway window.

"You're welcome," he rumbles to the Siamese familiar, now standing and looking up towards the commotion. She turns her blue eyes to watch him curiously as he leaps back down into the mint pot on the porch, and leaves her coven house behind.

The Starbucks is still a little busy, but the morning rush has passed. Ferris sits at the edge of the parking lot and breathes in the smell of coffee, feeling nostalgic. Cat food isn't as bad as one might assume, but it still can't compare to a good roast or a stiff drink. Eventually, Ferris has sniffed his fill and continues home

He travels back through the conservation area and the sculpture park, past the Clifton fountain and the bakery in the same dozen or so steps, until he reaches his own neighborhood and slows. The city is awake now, more than just birds contributing to the noise around him. The cats from the night's Watch are turning in; some greet him with quiet feline chatter. Cars pass. Dogs are being walked.

Ferris leaps up onto the open windowsill when he reaches his home. It's cool, quiet, and dusk-dark inside. He trots up the stairs, through the room with the sill altar, and into the bedroom. His mistress still sleeps. He springs up onto the bed with her, landing on light feet and picking his way over the covers to curl up at her side.

"Hello, pretty boy," she murmurs sleepily. She brushes a hand down his back, her touch heavy and clumsy with drowsiness. "What have you been up to?"

Ferris opens himself to her, lets her feel what he's feeling. Pride, satisfaction, relief. She hums happily, smiles, and goes back to sleep.

Ferris closes his eyes and sleeps too, purring.

© Calico Print 2017. Do not copy, repost, or redistribute. @girlfriendsofthegalaxy @haectemporasunt @jezifster @blackhannetandco @fearofahumanplanet @godsleftarmpit @littlehastyhoneydew @rainbowabomination @antihell @isherwoodj @marrowwife @ashen-crest @wildswrites @ceph-the-ghost-writer @garthcelyn @muddshadow @cohldhands @unrealistic-android @glam-pir @outpost51 Sign up to be tagged when I post about this project.

[crosseyedcricketart]

the natchez trace in 2024

original website post here <3 originally posted on January 14 2024 at 9:00 a.m. 01-14-2024.

The Natchez Trace – Updated into 2024.

The Natchez Trace was recently updated, reopening last year in Alabama, with some new pavement and updated rest areas. I recently passed through there when traveling out of Alabama so I thought it would be nice to have an anecdote from me to you about the updates.

Before the repaving, we always used the Trace heading into north Alabama and stopped at the rest stop in Colbert, Alabama. (Now, if you’re familiar with Steven Colbert, you may think you pronounce it the same as his name. But no. It’s “cole-bert” with a hard “t”.). This rest stop has been updated a bit, with a stable accessibility bar in the wheelchair-accessible stall of the restroom. Here’s some little bullet-points about this particular stop-

Water fountain, bottle fountain, and dog fountain. (Winterized at the time of travel).

Wheelchair/large stall with mobility handle available.

Multi-stall bathroom.

Hand drier, no paper towels.

Natchez Trace map available.

Picnic tables available.

Trash cans and recycling bin available.

Bicycle rack.

At the time, the fountain water was probably shut off for the winter season as it was ranging between 20°-40° F while we were there. The bathrooms were clean— very clean for what they are— with hand soap. In the women’s restroom, there is one sink, a mirror, and a filled soap dispenser. They use foaming soap in this area. These are the same buildings as before, while the inside had a facelift. These buildings are insulated well so they don’t let in too much of the cold. When I went in, it was a comfortable temperature. Not steaming, but certainly not cold. It was 43° F at the time of my visit. They use low light so the majority of the light in the buildings is natural light from the windows.

There are also no stairs at this stop, with ramp dips in the pavement from the parking lot into the side walk, and a ramp up to the restrooms. There is a little stand with a pamphlet of a map of the Natchez Trace Parkway and it’s expanse through Tennessee, Alabama, and Mississippi. This was a very comfortable stop with dogs; our two dogs went with us on this trip and there was a comfortable amount of space between the road and the parking lot for the dogs to (leashed) walk around without me worrying about a freak accident happening. Speaking of dogs, this stop has a doggie water fountain. Or for a person who is a foot off the ground.

This stop, on Apple Maps, is “Colbert Ferry Visitor Center” with the address being:

Colbert Stand Trail Cherokee, Alabama 35616 United States

This stop is on the eastern side of Pickwick lake. This stop is where the Trail of Tears and Natchez Trace cross, the Trail of Tears following the Tennessee River and the Natchez Trace Parkway crossing over the river.

This leg of the trip was the trip back to Memphis, so we also passed through Walnut, Mississippi on Highway 72. Walnut is a small community with a Love’s Travel Stop. This particular Love’s has a Godfather’s Pizza Express in it. This location is very clean, well stocked, and has fresh food out. I am a very picky person with where I stop on trips and I tend to stop at truck/travel stops instead of normal gas stations. There is also a Jack’s beside the location. If you have never stopped at a Love’s, or a proper travel stop, they have fresh fruit, fresh coffee, warm food, and ample shelf-stable foods, along with some auto/truck care inside. Depending on the size of the stop, they have less and more of each. In my personal experience, Walnut’s location is one of the smaller travel stops.

Here’s the location of this Love’s off of Highway 72:

Travel Stop #799 600 Richardson Dr Walnut, Mississippi 38683 United States

For your own reference, if you’d like some more information, here’s a few resources relating to the Natchez Trace Parkway:

Natchez Trace Parkway via National Parks Service

Alabama Trail of Tears Locations via Muscle Shoals Heritage

Trail of Tears in Alabama via National Parks Service

That's all for today. I hope this was insightful and gave you an anecdote for this section of the Natchez Trace. Make sure to subscribe to get new blog posts in your inbox when I post. Have a beautiful day or night, wherever you are, and most of all, happy travels! - Annie, the crosseyed cricket.

[manousjournal]

Travel Sketches (Nov 2023 - March 2024)

Nov 2023.

Bishnumaya just turned 100 this October. She comes from Pokhari, about 15 kilometers from Mirik town. As we spoke, she recalled old memories, her expressions shifting as if reliving those moments. She seemed elsewhere, gazing past me into the distance, and then, as if continuing a conversation with herself, she said, “Nowadays people ask about caste when they meet someone, and how is that of any use?”

She described how, when she was small, there were no proper schools in her village. She learned to read and write, however little, by arranging corn kernels on the ground to form shapes that resembled letters and numbers. Reflecting on her long life, she added that everyone around her—friends her age and younger siblings—is dead, and she feels like a monster who swallowed them all.

The sun is out, but it’s only warm where the light falls. The history of Mirik is reflected in its lake, which used to be a marshland. According to Wikipedia, the name Mirik comes from the Lepcha words Mir-Yok, meaning "place burnt by fire." It's very green now for a place that was once burnt.

A town fair is underway, offering a range of attractions: a Ferris wheel, flower park visits, fast food stalls, ice cream carts, horse and boat rides, live pop music, card game betting, balloon shooting, local bingo-type card games, and hoopla with prizes up for grabs. Some prizes are cash with notes of 20, 50, and 100 rupees.

——

For the past ten years, I haven't had a permanent home. When I wanted to sidestep the weight of planning and longed for comfort and familiarity, I returned to places I liked a little more than others: Auroville, Dharamshala, Shillong, Aizawl, Nagaland. 

I like meeting new people and have formed what feels like extended families in some of these places. Since I have mostly felt free to move around, sometimes nostalgia of people or a time or a curiosity to see how things may have changed would draw me back to a place.

Earlier in August, while I was temporarily living in Auroville, I got a call about a six-month project called The Great Himalayan Exploration, a collaboration between UNESCO and Royal Enfield. The project aims to document the intangible cultural heritage of local communities in the Himalayan region of Northeast India.

My work on this trip specifically involved photographing the people behind various cultural practices and examining the ecosystems they exist in. To build context, I engaged in various methods, such as scanning old photos from people’s personal albums, taking photos of their living spaces, landscapes, and exploring archival resources. From November to April, we were in West Bengal, Sikkim, Tripura, Mizoram, Assam, Nagaland, and Meghalaya.

------

On our way back to Siliguri from Mirik, we made a lengthy stop near a tea estate. Lalita, from Tingling village, shared that she had spent two decades working on the estate, much like many other women from the village. Their collective hope was to earn a minimum of 500 rupees per day for their labor. Currently, they are receiving 250 rupees per day for an eight-hour shift.

------

Sanchamaya, 74, sits with her friend Bodhimaya in the front yard of her house in Darap, both lifelong farmers of the area and belonging to the Limbu community. They're nice and welcoming. It's our second day in Pelling, West Sikkim, and I've ended up at the wrong house. Today, we're supposed to see a drum dance(chyabrung) performance by local Limbu boys, which I'll catch later.

They talk in basic broken Hindi, with Shusan translating most of it. Sanchamaya leads me to the back of their house, where she proudly shows me trays of dried large cardamoms. Later, we'll visit her cardamom field. They also cultivate Mosambi, oranges, guavas, maize, peas, ginger, and onions. Sanchamaya spends her days with her friend, grandchildren, working in the fields, and cooking in the kitchen.

------

I visited Chuba village, 3 hours away from Gangtok, with Semeon from Haflong, Assam, a textile design graduate from NID and working at Sonam’s design studio called EchoStream based in Gangtok. Semeon was familiar with the village and the community I was there to meet. Arun Gurung and his wife, founders of Chubako, are endeavoring to revive an old tradition of sourcing wool from indigenous banpala sheep to make clothes. They operate a small cooperative called Chubako. In this village of 43 families, one person from each household now works for Chubako. (photo above: Arun Gurung, founder of Chubako)

(photo below: Designed by Sanskruti Shukla, co-created with the craft community of Chubako for Echostream, Gangtok)

Local stories of the craftspeople of Chuba are showcased and incorporated into wool through interactive workshops focused on storytelling and design development. The felted art rugs depict the flora and fauna of Sikkim.

Gangamaya Gurung, 83, Arun Gurung's mother, lit up like a child when she saw Semeon. They shared a bond akin to best friends. Despite her age, Gangamaya remains active, tending to sheep, cutting grass, farming, and weaving. When asked about her leisure activties, she said, "eat, watch TV - eat, watch TV."

Sampati Debbarma, a farmer, returning from work in Takarjala, Tripura.

--------

Jan, 2024.

We have been out on this trip for 3 months. My thoughts scattered in a kind of bardo between the world I know and the world I am coming into contact with. I picture house fronts with flowers in Darjeeling, roads winding, the long cold rivers snaking toward mountains that seem no bigger than my thumb, the snow capped peaks shifting colours, the prayer flags in high altitudes and on house doors. Gangtok’s Lal Bazaar skateboarders flash by, a school in Tripura where a student lives on 700rs a month, nini bung tamo and 4 other sentences I learned in Kokborok nag me like a tune. Sidangcherra to Pecharthal to Panisagar to Damchara checkpoint we make our way from Tripura into Mizoram by road. I think about where I will be later in the summer and see a white fluffed cloud taking the shape of a growing tree far on the horizon.

——

Krismas Ruaitheh(Christmas feast) at Khatla Presbyterian Church, Aizawl. This is my 3rd time in Aizawl. I used to go for dinners, sometime evening tea to my friend’s family house further up the road from the Khatla church. We are here to document the traditional community feast of the Mizos.

Priscilla is currently pursuing her BA in Political Science in Delhi, and she's home for the holidays. She was volunteering at Khatla Presbyterian Church where she and her friends were tasked with serving lemonade, a customary drink after the meal. For Priscilla, the most remarkable aspect of the feast is its longstanding tradition — dating back to pre-Christian times — where the entire community comes together to share its moments of joy and sorrow + they still use Changel Hnah (plantain leaves) — the traditional way to serve meals.

-----

On an idle walk one evening in Khatla, I find myself in a local thrift store and get invited to meet James Lalhmingliana. He is 80, one of the founding members of Aizawl's first bike club, Aizawl Thunders. He went to school at Sts. Edmund’s in Shillong.

In 1966, he joined the Mizo National Front uprising, fighting for freedom. He went underground for seven years, first in Arakan, Burma, then in 1969 to East Pakistan for shelter. "It was useless," he says. "We wasted our good years. When I came back, I was put in jail, but not for long."

He has been housebound for years due to his health.

———

At 8 am on a cold January morning, we arrive at Joonbeel Mela. (Joon and beel are Assamese terms for moon and wetland. The Tiwa community first organized this in the 15th century to exchange goods between indigenous tribal communities in Assam and the surrounding areas.)

It is known as the only fair in India where people still practice barter, exchanging goods like fish, sweet potatoes, yam, homegrown vegetables, turmeric, chili, kali miri, and rongalau.

Over a few hours, I have brief interactions with people from Jagiroad, Pamlatar, Deosal, Sira, Changsari, Potia Pathar, Bengenabari, Palahguri, ulukunchi, morigaon, Nagaon, Saru Amli, Belguri, Damal, and places as far as Langpih, mawlynnong in Meghalaya.  No one refuses a photo.

—

This is my fifth time in Nagaland. I first came here ten years ago and stayed at Kevesho's home. He is the father of the Tetseo Sisters, a well-known folk group of four sisters from Nagaland.

Kevesho Tetseo, son of Nülhüprü Tetseo was born in 1950s in Thüvopisümi village, Phek District, Nagaland. Initially schooled in the village, he finished his HSLC at Government High School in Kohima and graduated from Kohima College in Arts. He worked in the Education Dept. for sometime and now retired. Active in cultural music, Chokri language preservation, and in church choir since his youth.

(Tati - - a single string musical instrument which is used as an accompaniment with singing of li- indigenous songs by the Chakhesang Nagas.) 

Kevesho learned how to make Tati from observing elders in his village when he was young and has done Tati making work since 1990s and a good number of it has been produced till date by him including improvising it for longer life by using steel wires as strings.

He tells me, the woven shawl he is wearing in the picture is "thipiqhü". It is the most prestigious shawl (indigenous cloth) among many traditional clothes of the Chakhesang tribe. It is a shawl they wear with humility and honour.

“Nagaland is my home and I love my culture, its rich traditional heritage, and the natural beauty.”

-----

Daisy Yaden was born in Zotlang, Mizoram. She studied at the Welsh Mission School in Mission Veng, Aizawl. She will turn 98 this June. She learned to weave shawls on a backstrap loom, stitching, and baking from her mother, often baking cakes in the fireplace. She taught in the interiors of Nagaland, in places like Noklak and Changtongya. She started her career by teaching people self-sufficiency—how to cook, make jams and pickles—skills she picked up from a British magazine called Woman’s Own. She used to compose little tunes for children at Sunday school. She loves flower gardening and her favourite film is "Gone with the Wind."

Photographed at her house in Duncan, Dimapur.

I am sitting with Marian, Daisy's daughter, at her house in Duncan. Marian, now 75, lived in Bombay from 1970 to 2012. She went to college there and worked as an air hostess with Air India for 34 years. In 2012, she returned to Nagaland. We agreed to meet again for lunch and look at her old photo albums.

(below: Marian,16, in Kohima trying a sari for the first time / in Santa Cruz, Bombay in the 80s with James Ferreira and friends)

——-

Khinchi is Christian, and Sindri is Songsarek, belonging to one of the last animism practising communities. I learned a few words in Achik: Khading bo, Methela, Namja, and Manja. Here I am in the extended kitchen space at Sindri's hut, in Sadolpara, Dadenggre, where they are taking a break from cooking lunch. 

-----

First published in Hindustan Times June '24

[newzealandmozsombi]

Fiordland day 2

Today was a rather chill day and I really needed that. Had a good porridge in the morning, wrote the previous post and then went for on a short hike with Andrea. Now I feel like drawing sketches so i’ll make a sketch of this one. But first some back story. She told me she met some locals a few days ago who showed her a canoe that was hidden on the shore by someone and is now in community use so basically if you know where it is you can use it. We found it, put it on the water and paddled across the small river to reach the trailhead. Okay the river is not that small, there are ferries and cruise ships on it (we had to get through the waves of one of them actually) and the crossing is right where the river and Lake Manapouri join.

The hike itself wasn’t that impressive although I still cannot get over the greenery. In the end we got a pretty good view at the lake from a higher spot and saw some trees hanging over the ledge due to errosion. They looked cool. We had a really great conversation about politics and spiral dynamics, that was probably the highlight of my day.

I actually wanted to go for a swim on the way back but the wind picked up while we were hiking and it wasn’t cold but wasn’t warm enough anymore to go into the water. The wind also meant that there were waves and we weren’t sure whether we can make it back without flipping over but in the end was fine. Oh yeah, did I mention that there were actually no proper paddles in the canoe?! There was one with broken ends so the flappy parts were as thin as the handle and a piece of wooden lath that was a bit wider so could push the water better..Anyway, we managed. It felt like a mini adventure, it was fun.

These cars are from the campsite. It’s a bit vintage and pretty quirky campsite, I kinda like it. There are these old cars parked all over the premise, the main office building looks like an old house from Tirol, there is stuff written in german all over the place and I just noticed the austrian national symbol above my head on the ceiling in the living room while typing this. Cool place, I liked it here. Big trees, good kitchen (bit small but well equipped).

Regarding the next few days it seems like I’m gonna stay in Te Anau, Andrea is doing pet sitting there (looking after people’s dogs and staying at their place while they’re away) and she offered me to stay over which I gladly accepted. I wanna express how grateful I am about this, and just ponder over the fact of meeting a random person on the other side of the world (her also coming from a different side of the world) and being offered a place to stay without anything in return. Not to mention the great chats that we can have so yeah. Here’s to that! Tomorrow I’ll drive over there (it’s a 15 min drive from here) and probably have a really chill day, weather should be grey with rain overnight. Not sure what I wanna do on friday, if it clears up maybe I’ll go back to the Milford area, there is an amazing hike Andrea did there and if it’s sunny i’d be keen to do that. Maybe checking out some Lord of the Rings locations? I found out that there are quite a few in this area..

Days like these are needed sometimes, going non stop can be really exhausting and after a while each mountain and lake combo just becomes “oh yeah another one” without being able to actually appreciate it. My brain gets flooded with stuff and I can’t come down from this high of constant new exciting stimulation and slowing down just becomes more and more difficult.

Since I already drew a sketch I feel like drawing another one with the spots I stayed at until now (not including daily excursions, only places where I stayed at least for one night. For those who are wondering, I am not planning to see the southeast (or coastal places really) there aren’t any proper mountains to hike or bike stuff to ride and there are plenty of those places still to discover on the westcoast and north so I will prioritize those.

Obligatory song suggestion:

Linkin Park - Good Things Go

I think this is actually a sad song but I just listened to it for the second time today so that must mean something, I really like the vibe. It’s from the newest album with Emily (new singer) and I love how her and Mike’s voice are mixing in this song.

[luzdaydreamer]

Event: Waking Reverie

Chapter 2, part 1

After we finished taking pictures that morning, I start checking the previews OTTO had sent over. The more I look, the more I feel something's off.

MC: Throughout the haunted house, your smile never wavered. On the Ferris wheel, you stared into the distance, lost in thought, and you responded to that cute NPC actor's enthusiasm with a cold, dismissive eyebrow raise. We've taken so many photos already. But you only have three expressions... Are you just stuck in some all-purpose, photo-ready face mode the whole time?

Under the intense afternoon sunlight, Sylus's sunglasses appeared permanently fixed. They obscure any real hint of emotion.

Sylus: Some things exist to make life easier for those who use them, kitten.

MC: But when you posed with the handsome Mr. Goose, you didn't even smile. You really do have a heart of stone...

Sylus: Why don't you show me how it's done? Imagine yourself stuck between Mr. Goose and Miss Dove, all thanks to me. What sort of face will you make to stop those mascots from constantly stepping on your feet?

I stand on my tiptoes and yank down Sylus's sunglasses. I look into his slightly narrowed eyes before grinning.

MC: There's a toy castle at the center of the park's lake. Let's row over. I'll do a live demonstration when we get there. After that, I want ten different expressions in your photos. It's to see if my lesson was effective. Deal?

Sylus leans in and confirms our agreement with a conspicuous smirk.

Sylus: Only ten? You're really underestimating my abilities.

The sun is shining, and the park is alive with visitors. When Sylus and I finally get to the water's edge, there are only a few pedal boats that we could use. Sylus eyes the ones that have been bleached by the harsh sunlight. He imperceptibly raises his eyebrow.

MC: Wow, everything by the lake is being cooked.

I put the pirate hat that I got earlier on Sylus's head. Then, I playfully twirl one of the glittering tassels.

MC: Good thing I came prepared. Voilà! The pirate captain in all his glory has arrived!

Sylus: Do all your weird photography props have to be on my head? Am I your personal clothes rack?

MC: You're the grandest, most stylish clothes rack in the world. Besides, I bought two. It'd be boring if I was the only one wearing a hat. Should we pretend to be the famous pirates venturing into the amusement park today?

Sylus: That's a better excuse than being protected from the sun. Get on the boat, Miss Pirate.

Sylus is about to board a beautifully decorated big boat, but I quickly pull him back.

MC: Wait, this is too large. Big boats like this are bulky and tough to control. They're not for us.

Sylus shifts his gaze to a nearby boat with fresh flowers and cherub statues.

MC: Have pirates ever sailed something that fancy and pristine?

Sylus: Did you see a boat you like with someone else at the helm? Let's take it and make it ours.

I give a wicked grin and nudge him towards an unoccupied white goose boat.

MC: Look at it. Geese can be quite fierce. It's perfect for ruthless pirates like us!

[drachinvonterra]

English video description (la déscription en Français ci-dessous):

The Episode « INFINITY » of ‘SHAMANE SHE - the Ladies of the Lake » by Drachin von Terra takes us into the Universe, and more precisely into the constellation of Orion in our Galaxy where we find the Horsehead Nebula discovered in 1888 by the Astronomer Williamina Fleming.

Moving with ease through the time warps of Space, the Shamane She and the Ladies of the Lake cross the seasons and different epochs of our planet. Are we truly on planet Earth ? If so, are we 10 million years from here and now?

A science-fiction film in episodes by Drachin von Terra who is : the Shamane She, Director, Editor, main camera, special effects, graphics, costume designer and clicker communicator with the wild cat, Silver Sphinx.

Original Music composed and orchestrated by Zed Terra

(Copyright Viviane Clarac aka zed terra all rights reserved).

‘Solstice’, 2019 ISRC: FR-9W1-19-15356

‘Ocean Meditation’, 2023 ISRC : FR-9W1-23-66893

‘La Grotte’, 2024 ISRC: FR-9W1-24-28291

‘All Gone’, 2024 ISRC : FR-9W1-24-13423

With

The Ladies of the Lake, Commedia Donne del’Arte, Dancer :

Drachin von Terra

Jess Nightingale

Patricia Douce

Manon Grange-Peterle

Artist

Micheline Reboulleau

‘Frimousse’ 2016

Technique mixte sur bois

75 x 75 cm

2 chalk drawings of isadorian dancers by Micheline Reboulleau are presented in the credits.

Feline

Silver Sphinx

Fairy

Nicole Clarac-Lagès

Camera

Drachin von Terra

Didier Duval

Nadine Ferry

Zed Terra

Sincere thanks to :

Dominique Mitaine et Jaqueline Tupinier for their precious help in making the costumes for the Ladies of the Lake, and Zed for the catering and material organisation,

Laurence Crotet-Beudet et à Rachel Nectoux for their support in helping me explore editing possibilities for the final project,

Many thanks to the Mairie de Fontaine-lès-Dijon and to the Mairie de Poiseul la Grange in Burgundy for their support and for having authorized the filming sets for “Shamane She,”

A special thanks to ESO, ESA, et NASA for sharing their fabulous images and videos of the Universe:

- The photograph of the Horsehead Nebula taken by the space telescope Euclid :

Finding_a_planet_in_Euclid_s_view_of_the_Horsehead_Nebula

Copyright: ESA/Euclid/Euclid Consortium/NASA, image processing by J.-C. Cuillandre (CEA Paris-Saclay), G. Anselmi

https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/igo/

Disclaimer :

In the episode « INFINITY » of ‘Shamane She, Les Dames du Lac’, the above image was modified to create some 3D animations. The authors of the image have no legal responsibility concerning the content of this creative work.

Image modifications created by Drachin von Terra are as follows : zooms and panoramic movements, creation and animation of graphic layers taken from the original image, color modification, lighting, changes in gain, and application of a lens effect.

la constellation Orion de notre Galaxie, la Voie Lacté.

Orion Head to Toe, photo de Rogelio Bernal Andreo, 2010

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Orion_Head_to_Toe.jpg

https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/igo/

Disclaimer :

In the episode « INFINITY » of ‘Shamane She, Les Dames du Lac’, the above image was modified to create some 3D animations. The authors of the image have no legal responsibility concerning the content of this creative work.

Image modifications created by Drachin von Terra are as follows : zooms, rotation and panning movements, addition of animated graphic layers and of a lens effect.

https://youtu.be/rTLCDsQ37eY find the video ‘UNIVERS’ de Drachin von Terra here.

The ESO video :

A 3D panning (artists expression) on the Orion Nebula

ESO/M. Kornmesser

Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International license,

Disclaimer :

In the episode « INFINITY » of ‘Shamane She, Les Dames du Lac’, the above image was modified to create some 3D animations. The authors of the image have no legal responsibility concerning the content of this creative work.

Modifications of the original video by Drachin von Terra are variations in speed and the superposition of videos.

SHAMANE SHE LES DAMES DU LAC – EPISODE – INFINITY – DRACHIN VON TERRA – ISRC : FR-1A9-24-02318

Doris Büger aka Drachin von Terra 2024 tous droits réservés

Déscription en Français:

L’Episode « INFINITY » de SHAMANE SHE, LES DAMES DU LAC de Drachin von Terra nous amène dans l’Univers, et plus précisément dans la constellation Orion de notre Galaxie ou se trouve la Nébuleuse de la Tête de Cheval qui fut découverte en 1888 par l’Astronome Williamina Fleming.

La Shamane She et les Dames du Lac traversent les saisons et les époques avec l’aise du temps élastique de l’espace. Sommes-nous réellement sur la planète Terre? Et si oui, sommes-nous à 10 millions d’années d’ici et de maintenant?

Un Film de Science-Fiction en Episodes de Drachin von Terra qui est : la Shamane She, la réalisatrice, la monteuse, chef opératrice, créatrice des effets graphiques, costumière, et ‘clicker’ communicatrice avec la féline sauvage, Silver Sphinx.

Musique Originale Composée et Orchestrée par Zed Terra (copyright Viviane Clarac aka Zed Terra all rights reserved)

‘Solstice’, 2019 ISRC: FR-9W1-19-15356

‘Ocean Meditation’, 2023 ISRC : FR-9W1-23-66893

‘La Grotte’, 2024 ISRC: FR-9W1-24-28291

‘All Gone’, 2024 ISRC : FR-9W1-24-13423

Les Dames du Lac, Commedia Donne, Danseuses :

Drachin von Terra

Jess Nightingale

Patricia Douce

Manon Grange-Peterle

Artiste Peintre Micheline Reboulleau ‘Frimousse’ 2016 Technique Mixte sur Bois 75 x 75 cm

Deux dessins au fusain des danseuses isadoriennes par Micheline Reboulleau sont présentés au générique.

Féline Sauvage Silver Sphinx

Fée Nicole Clarac-Lagès

Caméra Drachin von Terra Didier Duval Nadine Ferry Zed Terra

Grand Merci à Dominique Mitaine et Jaqueline Tupinier pour leur aide précieuse à coudre les costumes des Dames du Lac, et Zed pour la régie générale, Laurence Crotet-Beudet et à Rachel Nectoux pour leur solidarité et pour m’avoir aidé à trouver des possibilités de montage pour mon projet final.

Merci à la Mairie de Fontaine-lès-Dijon et à la Mairie de Poiseul la Grange pour leur solidarité et les autorisations de tournage.

Grand merci à

ESO, ESA, et NASA pour le partage de leurs images et vidéos fabuleux de l’Univers :

- La Nébuleuse de la Tête de Cheval prise en photo par le télescope spatiale Euclid. Finding_a_planet_in_Euclid_s_view_of_the_Horsehead_Nebula Copyright: ESA/Euclid/Euclid Consortium/NASA, image processing by J.-C. Cuillandre (CEA Paris-Saclay), G. Anselmi https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/igo/

Disclaimer : Dans l’épisode, INFINITY de ‘Shamane She, Les Dames du Lac, l’image ci-dessus à été modifié pour créer des animations à effet 3D, sans que les auteurs de l’image s’engagent à prendre une responsabilité juridique concernant le contenue de l’œuvre.

Des modifications apportées à l’image par Drachin von Terra sont des zooms et des panoramiques, la création de calques graphiques à partir de l’image originale et l’animation de ces calques, la modification des couleurs, de l’éclairage, et du gain de la photo originale, ainsi que l’ajout d’un effet d’objectif.

- La Constellation Orion de notre Galaxie, la Voie Lacté : Orion Head to Toe, photo de Rogelio Bernal Andreo, 2010 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Orion_Head_to_Toe.jpg https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/igo/

Disclaimer : L’image ci-dessus à été modifié pour créer des animations dans l’épisode, ‘Shamane She, Les Dames du Lac – épisode – INFINITY, sans que l’auteur de l’image s’engagent à prendre une responsabilité juridique concernant le contenue de l’œuvre.

Des modifications apportées à l’image par Drachin von Terra sont des zooms et des panoramiques, l’ ajout de calques graphiques animés par-dessus l’image originale, superpositions de vidéo sur l’image animé par zooms et panoramiques, modification de l’éclairage, ainsi que l’ajout d’un effet d’objectif. https://youtu.be/rTLCDsQ37eY trouvez ci-dessus le lien vers la vidéo ‘UNIVERS’ de Drachin von Terra

- La Nébuleuse d’Orion (vue d’artiste) en animation 3D : A 3D panning (artists expression) on the Orion Nebula ESO/M. Kornmesser Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International license,

Disclaimer : La video ci-dessus à été modifié dans l’épisode INFINITY de ‘Shamane She, Les Dames du Lac, sans que l’auteur de l’image s’engagent à prendre une responsabilité juridique concernant le contenue de l’œuvre. Les modifications apportées à la vidéo par Drachin von Terra sont des variations de vitesse ainsi que des superpositions de vidéos.

SHAMANE SHE LES DAMES DU LAC – EPISODE – INFINITY – DRACHIN VON TERRA – ISRC : FR-1A9-24-02318 Doris Büger aka Drachin von Terra 2024 tous droits réservés

[noman-007]

Iconic Chicago Wedding Photography Locations

Chicago is full of iconic spots that make for stunning wedding photography. Here are some of the best locations in the city for capturing memorable wedding moments:

Perfect Blue Maternity Dress

Millennium Park

Millennium Park is a favorite spot for wedding photos. The famous “Bean” (Cloud Gate) sculpture offers a modern and unique backdrop. The park also has beautiful gardens and fountains, combining urban and nature shots.

Chicago Riverwalk

With stunning views of the Chicago skyline and river, the Riverwalk offers a perfect blend of city life and water. Couples can capture romantic moments on the bridges or along the scenic pathways.

Lincoln Park Zoo and Nature Boardwalk

For couples who want nature in the heart of the city, Lincoln Park Zoo and the nearby Nature Boardwalk offer beautiful greenery, a pond, and skyline views. The pavilion at the Nature Boardwalk is a popular spot for its unique architecture.

North Avenue Beach

This location provides breathtaking views of the Chicago skyline with Lake Michigan as the backdrop. North Avenue Beach is ideal for couples looking for urban and natural scenery.

Art Institute of Chicago

The historic steps and stunning architecture of the Art Institute are perfect for a classy and timeless wedding photo shoot. The lush gardens behind the museum also provide a peaceful, romantic setting.

Navy Pier

Navy Pier is an excellent option for couples looking for a fun and lively setting. The Ferris wheel, boardwalk, and lake views offer fun and scenic shots.

Wrigley Building

The Wrigley Building, a Chicago icon with classic architecture along the Magnificent Mile, is perfect for sophisticated wedding photos. Its grand staircase and riverside location make it ideal for photo shoots.

Adler Planetarium

The Adler Planetarium has one of the best views of the Chicago skyline. Couples can capture breathtaking shots with the city and Lake Michigan in the background, especially during sunset.

Lurie Garden

Hidden in Millennium Park, Lurie Garden is a peaceful and picturesque location with blooming flowers and a sense of privacy. It’s a perfect spot for intimate, nature-inspired wedding photos.

The Chicago Cultural Center

For an indoor option, the Chicago Cultural Center is a stunning choice. Its grand staircase, Tiffany dome, and ornate architecture make it a timeless and elegant location for wedding photography.

These locations offer diverse backdrops, making Chicago a top city for wedding photography.

Final Words about Iconic Photoshoots In Fashion

Iconic fashion photoshoots are more than just pictures. They capture moments that change how we see beauty and style. A simple photo with a suitable model, clothes, and photographer can become legendary. These shoots often create new trends and leave a lasting impact on fashion and culture.

Some of the most famous photoshoots, like Kate Moss for Calvin Klein, stick in our minds because they show something fresh and bold. These images inspire people, making us think differently about what fashion can be. In the end, iconic photoshoots are like works of art, reminding us that fashion is more than clothes. It is a way to tell stories and express ideas.

[orlando-hypnosis]

Expert Hypnosis Services

When looking for a skilled hypnotist Orlando residents trust, choose Orlando Hypnosis Center for proven results. The center offers hypnosis services designed to help with weight loss, smoking cessation, stress, anxiety, and sleep disorders. Clients can experience benefits such as better sleep, reduced stress, and increased confidence. Whether the goal is to manage weight, prepare for success, or gain confidence, the expert team at Orlando Hypnosis Center provides personalized programs tailored to individual needs. With a focus on improving overall well-being, the center helps clients achieve their goals in a supportive and professional environment. Orlando Hypnosis Center is the go-to place for those seeking effective and lasting change through hypnosis.

The Geography of Orlando, Florida

Orlando, Florida, is located in the middle of the state, far from the beaches but surrounded by beautiful lakes and forests. The land is mostly flat, which makes it easy to get around the city. There are many lakes, both big and small, that add to the city’s natural beauty. Orlando is also close to the Everglades, a large area of wetlands filled with unique plants and animals. The city enjoys warm weather most of the year, with hot summers and mild winters. Because it’s in Central Florida, Orlando is safe from hurricanes that often hit the coast. The geography of Orlando makes it a pleasant place to live and explore.

The Orlando Eye

The Orlando Eye, now known as The Wheel, is a giant Ferris wheel in Orlando, Florida. It stands 400 feet tall and offers amazing views of the city. When you ride The Wheel, you step into a comfortable, air-conditioned capsule that takes you slowly to the top. As you go up, you can see famous sights like theme parks, lakes, and the downtown skyline. The ride takes about 20 minutes, and it’s a peaceful way to see the city from a new perspective. Whether you go during the day or at night, when everything is lit up, The Wheel gives you a special experience that’s perfect for visitors of all ages.

Orlando Police Identify Man Killed in Officer-involved Shooting Near Downtown

Recently, Orlando police identified a man who was killed in a shooting involving officers near downtown. This incident happened when the police were responding to a situation, and the man was shot during the encounter. The police are investigating what led to the shooting and why it happened. These situations are really serious and can be hard for everyone involved. It’s important to wait for more details from the police to understand exactly what happened. In the meantime, the community is feeling the impact of this tragic event, and people are hoping for answers and working towards keeping everyone safe.

Link to map

The Orlando Eye 8449 International Dr, Orlando, FL 32819, United States Get on I-4 E from International Dr 6 min (0.9 mi) Take I-4 Express to FL-15 S in Orlando. Take exit 12A from FL-408 E/State Rte 408 E 10 min (10.3 mi) Take Maguire Blvd to Lake Baldwin Ln 11 min (3.3 mi) Orlando Hypnosis Center 1440 Lake Baldwin Ln, Orlando, FL 32814, United States

[allwaswellrp]

THE CHARIOT victory • willpower • determination • control • strength

DO NO HARM, TAKE NO SHIT ✧ CRUSADING TEMPERAMENT ✧ PROTESTS WITH A PURPOSE ✧ BEING A SOURCE OF INSPIRATION ✧ STANDING UP FOR THE UNDERDOG ✧ SCARS THAT TELL STORIES ✧ ACTIONS ARE YOUR WORDS ✧ OLD LEATHER JACKETS ✧ HARD WORK THAT PAYS OFF ✧ ROLLING WITH THE PUNCHES ✧ FUCKING RIGHT I’M RELENTLESS ✧ GOING OFF THE HANDLE ✧ SPIRITED DEBATES ✧ BALLED UP FISTS ✧ COMPETING WITH YOURSELF ✧ ALWAYS WANTING MORE OUT OF LIFE ✧ RELENTLESSLY TRAINING ✧ MIGHT BE A SINNER MIGHT BE A SAINT

THE DEVIL addiction • obsession • independence • freedom • dependency

HALF HEAVEN HALF HELL ✧ ALWAYS LOOKING FOR THE NEXT HIGH ✧ WATCHING A CANDLE BURN TO NOTHING ✧ CRACKED MIRROR HIDDEN AWAY ✧ STAYING OUT ALL NIGHT ✧ THE LOUDER THE BETTER TO DROWN IT ALL OUT ✧ FACING YOUR FEARS ✧ ONLY FALLING APART ALONE  THUNDERSTORMS IN THE DISTANCE ✧ STRIKING A MATCH TO WATCH IT BURN ✧ PRETENDING NOT TO CARE ✧ DISTORTED SELF PORTRAITS ✧ FIERCE BUT VULNERABLE ✧ LOST LOVE THAT STILL STINGS ✧ THE CALL OF THE VOID ✧ DON’T TOUCH ME ✧ BREAKING FREE FROM CHAINS OF THE PAST

THE EMPEROR protection • power • domineering • unyielding • practicality

YOU CANNOT GAIN RESPECT WITHOUT SHOWING WHY YOU ARE WORTHY OF IT ✧ EVERYTHING IN ITS PLACE ✧ SLEEK AND POWERFUL AND FREQUENTLY MISUNDERSTOOD ✧ THE EMPTY HALLS OF A MUSEUM ✧ POWER GAMES ✧ THE STING OF BETRAYAL ✧ FAMILY CRESTS ARE A DECORATION ✧ INTELLIGENT DISCUSSIONS OVER WINE ✧ HEAVY IS THE HEAD THAT WEARS THE CROWN ✧ A GOLDEN CAGE IS STILL A CAGE ✧ THE BITTER COLD OF A WINTER EVENING ✧ CRAVING RECOGNITION ✧ UNBRIDLED AMBITION ✧ WANTING EVERYTHING IN YOUR CONTROL ✧ HIDDEN SECRETS

THE FOOL creativity • curiosity • self-expression• spontaneity • naivety

LIVE AS ONLY YOU CAN ✧ SUDDEN BURSTS OF INSPIRATION ✧ NEVER DOING THE SAME THING TWICE ✧ SPINNING AROUND UNTIL YOU’RE DIZZY ✧ KEEPING EVERYONE ON THEIR TOES ✧ AUTHENTICITY IS A CHOICE ✧ LOOKING THROUGH A KALEIDOSCOPE ✧ DREAMING OF SOMETHING BIGGER ✧ A FERRIS WHEEL RIDE AT NIGHT ✧ TAKING THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED ✧ UNFINISHED BUCKET LISTS ✧ LOSING TRACK OF TIME ✧ MESSY SHEETS AND AN UNMADE BED ✧ LEARNING THE HARD WAY ✧ KISSING STRANGERS ✧ LONGING TO FIND YOUR PLACE IN THE WORLD

THE HERMIT introspection • solitude • knowledge • exile • honesty

STILL WATERS RUN DEEP ✧ NOTEBOOKS FULL OF WRITING ✧ ON YOUR OWN DOESN’T MEAN ALONE ✧ A CONSTANT PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE ✧ EXISTENTIAL QUESTIONS ✧ LOCKS WITHOUT KEYS ✧ A LOON CALL ON THE LAKE ✧ THE CREASE IN A BOOK’S SPINE ✧ THE RAIN SPEAKS QUIETLY ✧ OLD ANIMAL SKULLS ✧ FINDING THE MEANING IN EVERYTHING ✧ A TREE FALLING IN THE FOREST ✧ HIGHLIGHTED PASSAGES IN A BOOK ✧ RAZOR SHARP WIT ✧ HALF-FINISHED MUGS OF COFFEE ✧ JIGSAW PIECES STREWN OVER A TABLE ✧ OUT WITH A LANTERN SEARCHING FOR YOURSELF

THE MAGICIAN resourceful • manifestation • deception • desire • metamorphosis

CLEVER AS THE DEVIL AND TWICE AS PRETTY ✧ TURNING VISIONS INTO REALITY ✧ WORK SMARTER NOT HARDER ✧ TRANSFORMATIVE SUCCESS ✧ ROLLED UP SLEEVES OF AN OVERSIZED SWEATER ✧ EVERY ROSE HAS ITS THORNS ✧ SOFT CANDLELIT BATHS ✧ ALWAYS BEING ORGANIZED ✧ POSSESSING ALL THE RESOURCES YOU NEED ✧ IMPOSTER SYNDROME ✧ KISSES THAT TAKE YOUR BREATH AWAY ✧ CHASING YOUR GOALS ✧ DOING THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT PEOPLE EXPECT ✧ FALLING OUT WISPS FROM A MESSY BUN ✧ CONFIDENCE THAT COULD KILL ✧ KNOWING HOW TO GET WHAT YOU WANT

THE MOON dreamer • soft • emotional • artistic • duality

MAYBE I’M CELESTIAL ✧ SPEAKING IN METAPHORS ✧ CALMING PRESENCE ✧ FEELING EVERYTHING DEEPLY ✧ WISHING ON EVERY FIRST STAR YOU SEE ✧ GETTING INSPIRED AT 2AM ✧ BAND-AIDS ON SKINNED KNEES ✧ CONSTELLATIONS DRAWN IN NOTEBOOKS ✧ MEANINGFUL TATTOOS ✧ HEART-TO-HEART TALKS DURING A SLEEPOVER ✧ HIDDEN TRUTHS COMING TO LIGHT ✧ DREAMS BLURRING WITH REALITY ✧ MUFFLED SCREAMS INTO A PILLOW ✧ NOT WANTING ANYONE TO SEE YOUR DARK SIDE ✧ SAVING EVERYONE BUT YOURSELF ✧ LONGING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT

THE SUN optimism • confidence • unrealistic • excessive • success

COURAGE, DEAR HEART ✧ SOFT ACOUSTIC PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND ✧ THE DAWN WHICH FOLLOWS THE DARKEST OF NIGHTS ✧ LOUD LAUGHTER ✧ EXPERIENCING EVERYTHING LIKE IT'S THE FIRST TIME ✧ BEING THE SUNSHINE IN EVERYONE ELSE'S LIFE ✧ A VOICE AS SWEET AS HONEY ✧ THE SMILE A STRANGER GIVES YOU ✧ STEPPING IN FRESHLY FALLEN SNOW ✧ LIFE COULD BE A FAIRYTALE IF YOU LET IT ✧ FINDING THE SILVER LINING ✧ HANDWRITTEN ‘THANK YOU’S ✧ FLYING TOO CLOSE TO THE SUN WITH WAX WINGS ✧ BELIEVING IN YOURSELF EVEN WHEN NO ONE ELSE DOES

[thelongfifteen]

Lake Chelan and Holden Village

We got the express ferry from Chelan to Lucerne and then the bus from Lucerne to Holden Village.

The bus service is run by the Village for their guests coming in and out, they had 66 people leave that day and only about 20 come in, so there was lots of room for us. The buses are former school buses and the road is so steep and winding that they barely get out of second gear.

The ferry carries all the parcels and mail for Stehekin, including the hiker parcels.

[travtips-tourpackages]

Discover Europe: Tailored Tour Packages for Dubai Travelers

Embark on a journey through the heart of Europe, where history, culture, and natural beauty intertwine to create an unforgettable experience. With many iconic landmarks, charming cities, and picturesque landscapes, Europe offers a treasure trove of adventures waiting to be explored. For travellers from Dubai seeking immersive and tailor-made experiences, Europe tour packages from Dubai cater to every preference and desire. Let's delve into the enchanting world of European travel and explore the meticulously crafted tour packages designed to captivate and inspire.

A Tapestry of European Adventures

Classic Europe Tour:

Highlights: Embark on a journey through Europe's most iconic cities, from the romantic streets of Paris to the ancient ruins of Rome. Marvel at architectural wonders like the Eiffel Tower, Colosseum, and Brandenburg Gate. 

Inclusions: Round-trip flights from Dubai, deluxe accommodations in centrally located hotels, guided city tours with expert local guides, and seamless transportation between destinations. 

Romantic Retreat in Paris and Venice: 

Highlights: Indulge in the romance of Paris with a private cruise along the Seine River and intimate dining experiences overlooking the City of Lights. Then, venture to the enchanting canals of Venice for a gondola ride and sunset stroll through St. Mark's Square. 

Inclusions: Luxury accommodations in boutique hotels, exclusive dining experiences at Michelin-starred restaurants, and personalized concierge services to enhance your romantic getaway. 

Scenic Splendors of Switzerland: 

Highlights: Immerse yourself in Switzerland's breathtaking landscapes, from the majestic Swiss Alps to the pristine shores of Lake Geneva. Embark on scenic train journeys aboard the Glacier Express and Bernina Express, and discover charming cities like Lucerne and Interlaken. 

Inclusions: Chalet-style accommodations in picturesque mountain villages, first-class train tickets with panoramic views, and guided excursions to iconic Swiss landmarks like Mount Titlis and the Jungfraujoch. 

Crafting Your European Escape

Selecting the Right Season: Europe offers something magical year-round, from the colourful blooms of spring to the festive markets of winter. When planning your European adventure, consider the climate and seasonal events.

Exploring Cultural Delights: Enjoy Europe's rich cultural heritage by visiting world-renowned museums, historic landmarks, and vibrant local neighbourhoods. There's no shortage of cultural treasures, from the Louvre in Paris to the Vatican Museums in Rome.

Indulging in Gastronomic Delights: Europe is a paradise for food lovers, with each region boasting its own culinary delights. Sample French pastries in Paris, Italian gelato in Rome, and Swiss chocolate in Zurich as you indulge in gastronomic delights from around the continent.

Navigating Transportation: Europe's extensive transportation network makes it easy to explore multiple destinations during your trip. Whether you prefer travelling by train, bus, or ferry, plenty of options suit every traveller's needs. 

Leading Travel Agencies: Your Guides to European Bliss

Emirates Holidays: With a reputation for excellence and unparalleled service, Emirates Holidays offers a range of Europe tour packages tailored to your preferences and budget. From romantic getaways to family-friendly adventures, their experienced team ensures a seamless travel experience from start to finish.

SOTC Travel: SOTC Travel specializes in crafting personalized travel experiences, including bespoke Europe holiday packages designed to exceed your expectations. With their extensive network of partners and suppliers, they curate unforgettable journeys that cater to your individual interests and preferences.

Cox & Kings: For over 260 years, Cox & Kings has been synonymous with luxury travel and unparalleled expertise. Their Europe tour packages offer a blend of cultural immersion, luxury accommodations, and exclusive experiences, ensuring an unforgettable journey through the continent's most captivating destinations.

MakeMyTrip: MakeMyTrip is your one-stop-shop for all your travel needs, offering a wide range of Europe tour packages to suit every budget and preference. Whether you're planning a solo adventure or a family vacation, their experienced team of travel experts will help you create the perfect itinerary for an unforgettable European getaway. 

Conclusion: Embark on a European Odyssey

From the romantic streets of Paris to the majestic Swiss Alps, Europe beckons with its timeless beauty and rich cultural heritage. With meticulously crafted Europe holiday packages and expert guidance from leading travel agencies, travellers from Dubai can embark on an unforgettable odyssey through the heart of Europe. Let the magic of Europe enchant you as you explore historic landmarks, indulge in gastronomic delights, and create memories to last a lifetime. Your European adventure awaits – are you ready to explore?