#Red spider mite

[loong-shern-blog]

Red spider mite spotted on rose apple leaves. It started to infest on the leaves tip and expand to other parts of the leaves

[antiqueanimals]

Grzimek's Animal Life Encyclopedia: vol. 2 - Insects. Written by Dr. Bernhard Grzimek. 1984.

Internet Archive

1.) Orchesella cincta

2.) Onychiurus sp.

3.) Campodea staphylinus

4.) Abax ovalis

5.) Notiophilus rufipes

6.) Penthetria holosericea

7.) Tipula scripta

8.) Red wood ant (Formica rufa)

9.) Geophilus sp.

10.) Brown Centipede (Lithobius forficatus)

11.) Polydesmus complanatus

12.) Julus sp.

13.) Glomeris marginata

14.) Pardosa palustris

15.) Nothrus silvestris

[critter-creature-or-beast]

Matthew Allen – some rights reserved (CC BY-NC)

[skapediem]

made myself a spidersona!!!! spidermite's just a silly little guy with silly little eyes

[semprvivum]

ahhhh i wanna start gardening already

[etherrreal]

"good growing"

Pairing: asahi x fem!reader Genre: fluff Summary: asahi walks into a plant shop and gets more than he bargained for. WC: 2,410 Warnings: reader's favorite color is pink A/N: I want everyone to send me guesses on how many plants you think I have 🥰 if anyone gets close enough (+/-5), I'll drop a picture of my plant set up 🌱 -Luna

I think this Monstera adansonii cutting can be repotted, you think, wiggling it free from the propagation station it was growing in. The roots are well past two inches long, and it's already spitting out a new leaf. You plop it into one of the empty nursery pots you have lined up on the counter behind you, having it join the Neon Pothos and Red Maranta waiting to be potted into new homes.

Potting up cuttings is probably your favorite chore at the plant shop you work at. Something about tucking the little stems into some dirt and preparing them for new homes made your heart happy. That was after you learned that naming them wasn't the best idea and only ended in you mourning little Millie the Watermelon peperomia after you handed her to a very young child who no doubt watered it to death.

A hand slaps against the doorway to your right, making you nearly jump out of your skin, muttering expletives under your breath. Your coworker Eri's head soon pokes out, a grimace already on her face. "Heeey, so, I have good news and bad news."

"Oh no. Good news first?"

"Okay, the good news is that our order of Calathea zebrina came in two days early!"

"That's great! Did some of them get damaged from the cold?" She shakes her head. "Did they tip out of their pots and get smooshed?" She shakes it again. "Then what's the bad news?"

"…They're already infested with spider mites."

You close your eyes, gathering what little strength you still have after working 6 hours already and being 2 hours away from closing. You open them to see your coworker staring at you with hands clasped in front of her chest and eyebrows pinched with worry.

With a deep sigh, you raise your right fist over your left open palm, ready to play a game of rock-paper-scissors with your coworker to decide who's going to do the easy job of writing and sending the email to the parent company to complain and who's going to shove on some gloves and deal with the mites. You're halfway through 'paper' when the bell above the front door rings signaling a customer's arrival.

It's a race between the two of you to slide in behind the register, but you win it, shooting a smug look at your coworker knowing the manager will ask her to be on pest control while you're working up front. If she glares any harder as she stomps to the back, you're pretty sure you'd be dead.

"Hello, welcome to Plant Parenthood! How may I help you today?" you call out to the man who walked in. He is incredibly tall, dodging many of the hanging trailing pants from above like he was walking through a jungle. Once he gets a few steps in, he stops and looks around frantically, looking a mix of lost and overwhelmed.

His dark brown eyes finally land on you, wide and desperate. "Um, I was looking for a small plant for my office."

"Okay! Does your office have any windows for natural lighting?" You ask, already sifting through your mental catalog of plant species.

"Yes, actually, I face an entire wall full of windows."

"Do you know what direction they're facing? East, West?" You both stare at each other for a bit when you realize that was definitely too complex of a question for a beginner. "Can you see the sun rise or set from your windows?"

"Oh, yeah! I can see it rise in the morning, sometimes."

Alright, we're getting somewhere. "So, you probably have an east-facing window which gets really good morning light and indirect light all day."

He cautiously nods, agreeing with you but also not quite knowing how that's important. It didn't matter, you were already roaming the store for the potential match.

You continue spitting out questions for him as you hover around the Calatheas. "Do you think you'd be more likely to forget about a plant and under water it or obsess over it and over water?"

"A mix of both, actually," he says, embarrassed. "I'll obsess over giving it the right amount of care that I'll hover over it every single day and be afraid of watering it in case I water it too much."

You pat the pot of the Calathea ornata, mentally wishing it well on living to see another day. "So you probably need something that can take a bit of healthy neglect?"

"'Healthy neglect?' How can neglect be healthy?'

You chuckle, looking through some well-established Golden Pothos plants. "Some plants can't take the constant babying. They'll sense your fear and keel over just to spite you, like Calatheas. You need a plant that can go a bit without watering and can sit nicely on a table and just /be/."

He hums, and that's when you tense up, realizing he's standing right behind you, looking over your shoulder at the plants on the table in front of you. He smells absolutely delicious. "What are those? Are they easy?"

He's close enough that you can almost feel how his deep voice rumbles. "Yes, and normally I'd recommend these to beginner plant people, but I think I want to find something that'll stay more upright and looks nicer on a surface."

You spot a potential option on a high shelf and start setting up the step ladder to grab one. You only get to take one step up when you see him easily grab one off the shelf without even having to try.

"Something like a ZZ plant. We have two kinds in right now, the classic green that you're holding or the Raven. Which fits more with your decor?" Reaching towards the back of the shelf, you grab a full planter of the Raven foliage and offer it to him.

He psychically weighed the two plants in his hands before handing back the green one. "I think the black one will look better in my space."

"Just so you know, when new stalks come in, they'll appear to be a pretty bright green. That's completely normal. They'll slowly become black as overtime," you ramble on as you're setting the plant back and climbing back down the ladder.

"We also sell cover pots if you want to put him in something more aesthetically pleasing?" You gesture to the table of handmade ceramic pots and saucers sorted in pastel rainbow order.

"Which one do you like?"

"My favorite color is pink, so I'd usually go with that, but what—"

"I'll get that one then."

Is he attempting to flirt? Or have you been single for too long?

You have to catch yourself before you stumble too far down that road. He could simply be too overwhelmed by choice and wants to just go with whatever choice is easiest. Or he's just one of the rare, nice customers who truly trusts your judgment and doesn't mansplain your line of work to you.

"Can I interest you in anything else?" you ask, to which he shakes his head and says 'no thank you.' You type in the product names and begin the checkout process before pausing for the customer information. "Can I grab your name for our system, please?"

"Yes, uh, first name is Asahi, last is Azumane."

"Mmhm, and your phone number?"

He lists off the digits of his number and you can't help the nefarious thought of coming back to his profile to grab his number and shoot him a text. But you must remain professional, and also, you really need this job to pay your bills.

You fill out the rest of the profile and tell him his total, flipping over the payment pad to have him pay. You turn around and busy yourself with writing a care card, not liking the fact that your boss allowed the option for people to add a tip when you only just do your job. It's created some unsavory reactions from people as if you're the one who decides what your POS system is and all of its features.

When you hear the beep from the pad indicating he paid, you turn back around to finish the card as to not be rude. "So, I'm creating a care card so you can have just some basic facts about watering and light needs. A ZZ plant practically takes care of itself since it has rhizomes built into its root system so it doesn't need much besides good light in front of your windows."

"And if I need to come back and get more advice?" You pause to look up at him, eyebrows scrunched in mild confusion. "I can come back and ask you?"

His apprehensive smile is sweet, and his eyes are so gentle and warm as they look at you. It trips you up expeditiously. "Y-yeah," you answer, flipping over the care card to the back and scribbling your name and number onto it before handing it to him, along with the bag his plant was in. "Or you can call or text me directly? You'll get a quicker answer that way, in case of emergencies."

"E-Emergencies?" He stutters, eyes widening like he may have overstepped boundaries. "Y-Yeah, of course. Emergencies only."

Ah fuck. You didn't mean to make it so formal. "Or if you have any questions. Or if you need to know if I'm going to be at work before you swing by. Or just—" you check for anybody at the doorway behind you. "—want to talk, I guess. I wouldn't be opposed to that."

You shoot him a bright smile, hoping to let him know that you reciprocate his interest. His growing smile tells you that he does get the hint, his hand purposefully brushing against yours as he takes the bag from you with a gentle 'thank you.' He wishes you well and makes his way out of the shop, not without glancing over at you once more with a smile so wide it makes you flustered.

With a hand holding your warm cheek, you take a quick moment to look at his client profile, trying to familiarize yourself with his number just in case he decides to call later instead of text. Curiosity gets the better of you and you pull up his order, eyes nearly falling out of your head when you see that he tipped you $20.

There's suddenly snickering coming from behind you and you turn to see Eri standing there with her hand over her mouth as if that'll disguise it. "Oooh, I'm telling your boss you were flirting with a customer."

"What's he going to do? Fire me? I'd love to see him try. There are only three employees here." You turn back to the propagations, grabbing the bag of soil lying on the ground to start potting. "Not to mention, I'd just tell him you used the system to get that one girl's number last month."

"Whoa, hey, let's not get too serious here. I was obviously just joking and will be getting back on spider mite duty while singing your praises to our employer," Eri says, backing out the doorway with her hands held up.

Asahi's face stays stuck in your mind for the rest of the work day, and you find yourself in between tasks cracking a smile at your interaction from earlier. You try not to hover over your phone too much—mostly because you don't want to get scolded by your boss—but you're feeling antsy.

The text doesn't come until later that evening once you arrive home from work, chiming as you set down your backpack and have one shoe kicked off. You grab for it desperately, face ID quickly opening up your phone so you can click the message notification.

[XXX-XXX-XXXX]:: Hello, this is Asahi from earlier. Just wanted to say thank you for all your help today :)

Then a photo comes in and while it loads, you're having a mini heart attack, hoping it's nothing inappropriate. Your feelings are quelled when it finishes loading and reveals a picture of the ZZ plant he purchased today, nestled in its new pink pot on what looks like solid wood desk. The view in the background is stunning. What looks like it could be floor to ceiling windows overlooks the city, the lights of buildings and advertisements blurred in the background.

[000-000-0000]:: It's settling in well! Can't wait to see it in the morning. Got any name ideas?

The smile on your face is so wide it starts to hurt. You jog over to your Raven ZZ plant that's sitting on your living room console table, holding up the green planter in front of your plant covered shelves lining the wall to snap a picture to send to Asahi.

[you]:: I named mine Morticia after the goth queen herself 🖤

[000-000-0000]:: That's a great name! I could name mine Gomez?

It's a bit embarrassing how the implication of your plants being a married couple that makes you plop yourself down on your couch and squeal into your hands, but there's nothing more attractive than a man who can flirt using your interests.

Once you've gathered yourself, you type out a response that hopefully doesn't give away how frazzled you are, and you spend the next 15 minutes exchanging messages with Asahi. It consists mostly of him asking about the plants he saw in the background of your photo and how you got into your hobby. Metaphorically, you're laying on your stomach and kicking your feet, feeling like a teenage girl again.

Although you don't want to stop the conversation, you feel like there's a layer of literal dirt on you along with a sprinkling of spider mites. You keep the conversation going while you put some leftovers to warm up on the stove and into the bathroom while you start getting ready for a shower. It vibrates once more before hopping in, and you decide to check once more.

[Asahi 🌱]:: Maybe we can grab some coffee and you can show me your favorite plant store? I have a lot of empty space in this office to fill and I need an expert to help me choose :)

[you]:: I'm in love with you

[you]:: wanna move in and fill OUR space??

[you]:: I'm an expert in other things, too 😉

[you]:: I'd love to! When are you free 😊

[calicoarthropodcrafts]

milkweeding

Found a brilliant jumping spider who I couldn't get good pics of.

This red milkweed beetle fell on its back to escape me. Look at it all scrunched up.

Here's a selection of milkweed fellows

and here are the bees (and one COCK CHAFER)

Mite on a buttercup

[scriptorsapiens]

Classicstober Day 13: Arachne (𐀀𐀨𐀏𐀕)

Arachne was a mortal woman and a weaver beyond compare. She claimed that her skill surpassed even the gods'. An old woman warned her in a cracked voice:

"Be careful what you say, child; the gods loathe hybris."

"I'm not afraid of the gods. Even if Athena, goddess of weaving herself, appeared before me I know I can make a better tapestry than her!"

Arachne clearly had no idea she was living in Bronze Age Greece, because when an elder warns you about the ways of the divine it is ALWAYS a god in disguise.

Long story short, she is the reason spiders can weave so well.

Those of you who know me, and those of you who take the time to read these 'behind the scenes' things know that I do lots of research, but sometimes there just are no resources for me to draw on. Case in point, we know that the Mycenaeans had looms like the one I depict here, but as far as I know no Mycenaean tapestry has been preserved. This is not unexpected, since perishables like cloth can't really survive 3000 years without lots of luck and/or intentional preservation, but it also left me with a question of how Arachne's tapestries might have looked.

While we have some preserved Mycenaean and Minoan frescoes, I decided to not really draw from those for Arachne's tapestry. Her art was supposed to be breathtakingly realistic, so I opted from a more naturalistic, if a mite stylized, rendering of a woman. Perhaps a little anachronistic, but Arachne was a prodigy.

Speaking of which, Arachne is wearing a typical Mycenaean skirt and tunic but this piece finally gave me a good chance to show off Mycenaean makeup. Women, when depicted in Minoan and Mycenaean art, are often very pale and sometimes their faces are decorated with red florets on the forehead and cheeks. Arachne is not royal, but she is incredibly proud. Therefore I decided she would powder her face and rouge her lips, almost making herself look royal. The florets are just dots on her face, but the extras added to her forehead let me evoke the spider eyes she will bear in the near future.

Gods often take the appearance of the elderly (Zeus, Hera, and Athena all come to mind taking this disguise), and for whatever reason I have always had a vivid image of what Athena's mortal guise would look like. I know black was usually a very difficult color to dye, making it reserved for the wealthy, but maybe because of the old women in Portugal I grew up seeing the archetypal Old Woman is wearing black and using a shawl.

I would also like to formally apologize for not including the Linear B name for Athena, which is preserved: 𐀀𐀲𐀙

[britishraptor]

Gonna kick the hornets nest here, but the file from the most recent episode of The Magnus Protocol was incredibly underwhelming. It didn’t take into account at all anything that actually makes snakes scary, little to no foreshadowing, and basically attempted to jumpscare the audience with a reveal that reads more like a parody of a horror story than an actual one.

I might look like an idiot or a fool when everything all strings together later than the line, but I’m questioning so much about this episode.

Parasites are scary. Worms, and insects and mold and rot. Decay, possession. Spiders are scary because they’re hard to see, hard to pinpoint and they move fast, plus the connections with webs related to control, and manipulation. So yeah, a worm lady, sure, a person filled with spiderwebs, also sure. But the only connection between snakes and parasitism could be a joke about ‘shedding your skin’ or how disturbing that one scene in Harry Potter was.

Snakes are scary for two reasons:

1) the same reason bears and tigers all that are scary. Hunt style being hurt, and killed, and eaten. Simple.

B) uncanny valley reasons. Snakes don’t blink. They don’t have facial expressions. The way they move and eat and exist is totally different from humans and mammals. They’re often described as alien and cold.

My questions:

a) why rodent control? why was he even actually brought in? His walls are FULL OF SNAKES. It wouldn’t have lasted five minutes. It doesn’t make any sense even if you know he was concerned about parasites. Snakes don’t give a shit about other snakes. To call someone a snake is to literally call them callous and prone to betrayal. A snake eats the rodent, so you kill the snake. Plus a snake store would have access to medications to kill mites and deal with snake illness? Why call the guy at all?

b) the foreshadowing on the owner is terrible. You could have mentioned his skin needed moisturising. That it seemed dry, flaky. Scaly. But just. A red rash? A rash? Are you saying being full of snakes is an infectious disease? That’s what he said at the end, right? That his throat itches. It was swelling. You can just?? Grow your own snakes?? Is that the implication?

No uncanny valley mention on the owner either at all. He didn’t move weird, being full of snakes? Didn’t sway or limp as he walked, didn’t move sluggishly? Bad hearing, didn’t know what to do with his hands? No? Just a short tempered customer. Okay.

c) You lost me at the thousands of snakes. THOUSANDS? What is this, a clown car? A snake clown car in some random guys skin, who explodes because he was mad a customer walked out.

Look, I’m Australian. And when I ask my friends ‘hey, how big do you normally picture a snake being?’ we picture snakes about 1.5m long. Dinner table length is pretty common for all of our common brown, tiger snakes, red bellies, and even longer for our common carpet pythons. But even if I adjust to like, other countries’ grass snakes, thousands?

The throwaway line at the end was plot relevant I’m sure, but I’m all around confused, and totally not even a little bit scared.

The only praise I have is that the description of the crickets was very creepy, and I loved the visual of them moving around like a shuddering wave of pixels on a screen, only really perceived by their screaming.

But yeah. The setup, the foreshadowing, the coherent theming and consistency all just fell totally flat for me. The only thing I learnt was that this guy applied to the institute and was rejected, and that snakes can’t do dishes.

[apollolabsworld]

Red Spider mite appears after heavy rainfall

[alienbath]

I haven't been updating recently on cute bugs I've been researching, I am unfortunately a college student and started my bachelor's this year. Lots of writing (boo english student boo) so here's a little bug.

Is that a spider? Nope! This is a mite. A long-legged velvet mite

Source: bugguide.net by  Bryan E. Reynolds 

Velvet mites also can look like this. This is a Trombidium grandissimum found in India but these little guys like pitbull are worldwide.

Source: India Biodiversity Portal

(Thinking about it I totally saw these as a kid and freaked out at little red dots moving)

[loong-shern-blog]

Rose apple fruit have some minor scar on the fruit surface due to red spider mite damage

[iamblue15]

Moditrix AU: Alien Nicknames

Dipper

*Grey Matter: Little Grey

*Humongusaur: Gigantosaur

*Wildvine: Xenoplant

*Blitzwolfer: Weirdwolf

*Ampfibian: Ghost Jelly

*Shocksquatch: Shocksquatch

*XLR8: Acceleraptor

*Brainstorm: Crabstein

*Ball Weevil: Goop Beetle

*NRG: Meltdown

Mabel

*Wildmutt: Hyperhound

*Chromastone: Rainbowblast

*Ditto: Multi Buddy

*Grey Matter: Little Grey

*Humongusaur: Gigantosaur

*Bloxx: Build a Thing

*Cannonbolt: Maball (Mabel + Ball)

*Buzzshock: Zip Zap

*Fasttrack: Kitty Fast

*Upchuck: Stuff Up

Raz

*Heatblast: Hot Shot

*Jetray: Rayser

*Spider Monkey: Spider Monkey

*Clockwork: Time Lord

*Cannonbolt: Rollout

*Feedback: Feedback

*Echo Echo: Dupli-Sound

*Gravattack: Mars Head

*Ball Weevil: Gunk Mite

*Way Big: Goggalor

Lili

*Wildvine: Green Queen

*Chamalien: Camo Gecko

*Chromastone: Meteor Quartz

*Four Arms: Red Bruiser

*NRG: Rad Tank

*Grey Matter: Tinker Frog

*Snare-Oh: Celopatrap (Cleopatra + Trap)

*Astrodactyl: Jetrassic (Jet+ Jurassic)

*Buzzshock: Battery

*Whampire: Batula (Bat + Dracula)

Coraline

*Diamondhead: Hardstone

*Swampfire: Wildfire

*Big Chill: Frostbite

*XRL8: Rush

*Rath: Raging Stripes

*Water Hazard: Flash Flood

*Crashhopper: Kicket (Kick + Cricket)

*Ampfibian: Astrosquid

*Grey Matter: Liliphibian (Liliputian + Amphibian)

*Echo Echo: Surround Sound

Wybie

*Brainstorm: Shell-Minded

*Upgrade: Symbiote

*Feedback: Cable Guy

*Stinkfly: Mutant Fly

*Lodestar: Magnetizer

*Artiguana: Frizard (Frigid + Lizard)

*Ripjaw: Depthmaw

*Nanomech: Microdroid

*Ball Weevil: Crud Bug

*Spider Monkey: Arachney (Arachnid + Monkey)

Norman

*Goop: Slimer

*Echo Echo: Screamer

*Frankenstrike: Lightningstein

*Big Chill: Ghostmoth

*Ripjaw: Angler Man

*Snare-Oh: Bind Tut

*Wildvine: Trap Plant

*Eye Guy: Multeye (Muliple + Eye)

*XLR8: AMX (Alien Motorcross)

*Terraspin: Draftshell

Neil

*Four Arms: Double Muscle

*Cannonbolt: Wrecking Ball

*Upchuck: Spit n' Boom

*Wildmutt: Mad Dog

*Armadrillo: Diggin' King

*Kickin' Hawk: Rooster Fighter

*Fasttrack: Felay (Feline + Relay)

*Articguana: Sub-Zero Dragon

*Brainstorm: Intellishrimp

*Bloxx: Stackem'

[sudriantraveler]

Vicarstown 1923

Happy 78th anniversary to The Railway Series!

I figured it's only right to mark the occasion with something, so here's a story I just wrote.

Vicarstown 1923

“PEEP PEEP! WAKE UP LAZY BONES! It’s time you all did some hard work, like me!”

Groans and curses emerged from the sheds in response to this.

“Ugh, really Thomas” yawned a big blue engine, “It’s far too early for this”.

��I thought on a proper railway, work started bright and early Gordon” replied Thomas.

“On a proper railway, little tank engines like you don’t go around pestering the big important engines” huffed Gordon.

“HAH” laughed a big red engine, “for once we agree on something Gordon”.

Gordon grunted and looked away, scowling at the red engine's remark.

“Anyway” the red engine continued, looking back at Thomas, “Why don’t you run along and get my coaches ready”.

“Actually, It’s a goods train for you today,” replied Thomas, and he gave a cheeky grin.

“WHAT!”

“It’s Fat Director’s orders” continued Thomas, trying to cut off the red engine’s tirade before it could begin.

Then he chuckled, “Or perhaps you’re just not capable enough for the job. Maybe Emily could…”

“THAT SPINDLY OLD…”

“Who ye callin spindly?!” barked the emerald single in question. “I’m more than capable of takin the train. At least unlike ye, I can handle a bit of real work!”

“OH Please!” the red engine cut it, “it’s a miracle you and those clapped out things you call coaches even make it to Norramby each day”.

“Why ye F-”

“That’s enough!” said a voice from the far corner of the shed.

Everyone stopped to look at who had spoken up.

In the shadows at the back of the shed was a little blue engine. His paint was worn and dirty, and a cobweb trailed down from his funnel. He looked like he hadn’t been out in a long time.

Apart from Thomas and Emily, the other engines were all bigger than him, and he seemed to shrink even further back under their gaze.

“Er… What I meant to say is… Thank you for the wake up call Thomas. But our crews haven’t even arrived yet. Once they do, we’ll all set off to work”.

“Well… Most of us will Edward,” teased another one of the big engines. “The driver won’t choose you again. He wants big strong engines like us!”

“Leave Edward alone!” shouted Thomas, “He’s just as useful as all of you lot put together!”

At this, laughter erupted from the rest of the sheds.

Edward winced, and Thomas went red in the face.

“Really” chuckled the big engine.

“YES REALLY, 98462!” shouted Thomas.

His safety valve lifted, and he didn’t care what he said next.

“In fact… Edwards got a train to take now!... It’s er… It’s the first train of the day too… It’s very important!”

More laughter was the response to this, and Thomas’s face went pale as he realized what he had said.

“OH, OH THAT’S RICH” guffawed 98462. “You’re a horrible liar Thomas. We all know the first train of the day is my job”.

“er… well… Technically it’s Henry’s job…”

“Oh yes, the failed pacific” 98462 laughed again, “Who, need I remind you, is currently rotting away in the tunnel”.

“Good riddance” huffed another engine.

“Yes indeed 87546” remarked 98462. “A waste of space and nothing more. At least Edward here keeps the spiders off of us”.

Edward blushed with embarrassment, as right on cue another web was being woven between his wheels.

“Now… Now you listen here” called Thomas, trying to rally back against the big engines.

“It’s alright” said Edward quietly, “I think it’s time you went back to the yard”.

“Yes” added 87546, “Go back and play in the sidings little mite, and leave us big engines alone!”

Thomas tried to ignore him.

“If I’m going, then you’re coming to Edward,” he said. “You’re getting out of that shed, I promise”.

Edward gave a sad smile, “I think it’s time you got back to your work. I don't think the Fat Director will be all too pleased to hear you’ve been wasting your time hanging around here”.

Thomas wanted to say more, but by now he was feeling rather small under the mocking eyes of the big engines.

Reluctantly, he began backing away from the sheds towards the yard. As he did, he could see tears forming in Edwards eyes.

Then, rounding a bend, Thomas saw two people walking down the path towards the shed. It was a driver and fireman, the first crew arriving to start the day.

Thomas suddenly had an idea.

“Um… Excuse me Mr Driver, Sir” he called.

The driver stopped, “Yes Thomas?”

“Which engine will you be taking out today?”

“Well, I believe we’ve got 98462”.

Thomas’ heart sank.

Then he said “Well… I mean… you don’t have to take 98462 do you? Er… So long as an engine is taking the first train I’m sure the Fat Director wouldn’t mind. He’s got much more important things to worry about”.

The driver sighed, “Where are you going with this Thomas? This better not be another one of your tricks”.

“It's not a trick, honest! It’s just… There’s another engine, far more deserving of going out today than 98462. He’s… smaller than the rest, but he’s very hard working, a-and really useful too! If you just give him a chance I’m sure he’ll…”

“Alright, that’s enough” soothed the driver. “You’re talking about Edward, right?”

Thomas grew more hopeful. “Y-Yes Sir!” He said.

“Well…”

“I say we go for it” It was the fireman who had spoken up.

“That 98462 is a coal hog anyway” he continued “I’d happily take another engine over him”.

The driver sighed. Then he smiled. “Alright Thomas… We’ll take a look”.

“Oh thank-you-thank-you-thank-you-”

“But no promises” he added, trying to rein in the bubbling tank engine. “In any case, I think it’s time you got back to work. The yard would certainly be a mess without you.

“In fact,” he added, “I think just yesterday evening, one of the other engines managed to bump the coupling off of one of the coaches”.

“Oh what the… Those brutes don’t know the first thing about shunting” fumed Thomas.

“It better not have been Annie or Clarabel. Those old girls are far too kind to deserve to be bumped around like that”. And he hurried off to see if there was any other mess he had been left to sort out.

The driver and fireman turned, and resumed their walk towards the sheds.

They arrived to find the sheds in uproar, with mocking laughter and curses filling the air.

The engines soon stopped however, when they noticed the driver glaring at them.

He said nothing, as he and the fireman walked right past the big engines, and into the back of the sheds.

Edward stood there looking cold and miserable, with tear drops dripping down onto his buffer beam.

“Hello” said the driver gently, “Why are you sad?”

Then…

“Would you like to come out today?”

[vampire-meta-knight]

tell me about the bats

please?

Sure thing! I’ll tell you about some of the bats I caught with my biology professor (they weren’t harmed or killed, don’t worry).

(Side note, you need a permit to catch bats, so don’t try this at home, kids!)

First up, let’s talk mist nets! The nets my professor uses are actually meant for birds and are nearly invisible (especially at night) since the strands are so fine. However, bats can still actually see them with their echolocation! How do we counteract this? We put the nets over a stream or in a clearing that bats fly through so regularly that they don’t constantly echolocate because they’ve memorized their path, or they’re getting a drink of water and can’t echolocate with their mouth full. Then you carefully untangle them while wearing leather gloves (I used a crochet hook to help untangle them). You obviously must be gentle with them, especially their wings. The bats I was able to touch without gloves were as soft as a rabbit. Bats are typically very clean and groom each other as a way of bonding (though can still have mites, as many of the big browns did).

The most common one we caught, as well as the largest, was the big brown bat (Eptesicus fuscus), which has the nickname Eptesicus fuss-n-cuss because of how loudly they yell at you when you catch them. These bats only weigh about as much as a car key, and the females are larger than the males. They have big teeth for crunching beetles. These ones also find their way into buildings frequently and are around humans more than some of the other species I caught. Big Brown pictured below (not my pic)

Eastern red bats (Lasiurus borealis) are such pretty bats; they look like Halloween with their orange fur and black wings. Their fur is designed for cooler weather, even having fur on their wings. They’re related to the hoary bat and look similar, though much smaller and redder. We didn’t catch any hoary bats since they fly higher than the nets go, but a cool fact about them is that their echolocation actually can be heard by some humans. It’s just on the threshold of frequencies we can pick up, so some people still can’t hear it.

Eastern Red on left, Hoary on right (not my pics)

Evening bats (Nycticeius humeralis) look like smaller big brown bats, but you can easily tell them apart by smell. They have a distinct “burnt oranges” smell.

Evening bat (not my pic)

Little brown bats (Myotis lucifugus) have long hairs on their toes, so my professor likes to compare them to hobbits. They, like others in the genus Myotis, have a distress call that draws in other Myotis species (such as Indiana bats and Northern long-eared bats), so if you catch even one Myotis, you’re bound to get several more all in the same area of the net.

Little brown (not my pic)

Other fun facts: The shape and size of a bat’s wings determine its speed. Some bats are very fast, and others (such as those that eat spiders or caterpillars) can slowly hover.

When releasing a bat, you can’t put it on the ground, as they have a hard time getting off the ground. Instead, you toss them in the air so they can fly away. Alternatively, you can place them on a tree trunk, and they’ll sit there or climb a little higher before letting go to fly. This is also why they hang upside down, so they can just drop and go. Not many bats can jump—I know vampire bats can, but still not very high. However, don’t pick up a bat you’ve just found on the ground. Although I not nearly as many bats carry rabies as people often think, rabid bats will often wind up on the ground, so it’s best to leave them be.

To tell if a bat is an adult or juvenile, we hold their wings up to the light and check a joint in the arm part of their wing. If it’s clear, that means it still has cartilage, so it’s a juvenile. Adults will have solid bone, so it won’t be transparent.

Thanks for asking about bats!

[swanmaids]

how big, how blue, how beautiful

written for the prompt “different” for @yearoftheotpevent prompts for february (just!). vignettes of earendil, elwing, and the sea. one line of implied sexual content.

i.

His father is the first to see the sea as it stretches along the horizon. They are a ragged chain of refugees, half-starved and weary, and Eärendil can scarcely remember the last time that he saw his parents properly smile, but all of a sudden his father is whooping and laughing and shouting the sea, the sea!

And then Eärendil sees it too.

The sea is not beautiful to him, not exactly. Eärendil, Sea-Lover, beholds the ocean before him for the first time ever, and feels- frightened, overwhelmed, faintly ill. His heart thumps and his stomach twists and his scalp tingles, and in that strange way of Knowing that all children, and this child more often than many, sometimes feel, he knows that something within him has been forever changed.

ii.

Eärendil has been told that the little queen of Sirion is just like him, but he isn’t so sure. For one, Elwing is a real queen, even though she’s only eight, the same as he is. Everyone who wants to live in Sirion has to kneel before her and kiss her tiny hand.

For another thing, Elwing doesn’t seem to like the sea. After a fortnight of splashing in the shallows with his father, screwing up his eyes and dunking his head under the water, he had asked her with his best Sindarin if she didn’t want to come and paddle with him; but Elwing had muttered who cares about the stupid sea? and stomped off, her nurse and guardswomen darting after her. Elwing thinks a lot of things are stupid. Eärendil isn’t allowed to call anything stupid - mother and father say that it’s rude- but as he watched Elwing leave, father had simply sighed and said poor little mite.

Eärendil feels sorry for her too. Everyone does.

And he feels sorry for himself, sometimes. Maybe it’s wrong - he has mother and father and uncle Voronwë, and Elwing has no mother, no father, no family - but he does. He misses how Ecthelion would play the flute for him to fall asleep to, and how grandfather would hold him on his shoulders on the balcony of the king. They would look over the whole of Gondolin together, and grandfather would say I love you more than all of this.

It’s only when he’s in the water, floating weightless, that Eärendil can forget. The roar of water and salt overwhelms all else.

iii.

Elwing sits beside him on the sand, making a spiral out of large, flat stones. She doesn’t speak. Occasionally she passes him bits of shell, to embed in the sand tower that he is building.

The waves rush against the shore. Soon the tide will come in.

iv.

The sand sucks against Eärendil’s feet, as he wades through the water, catching crabs. He likes the way they look, little red spiders piled atop each other in his little red bucket. Mother has noticed that the creatures of Ulmo’s domain seem to favour him- they flock to where he is, and allow him to catch them. Then he takes the best to his parents, and tips the rest back into the sea.

Sometimes Elwing joins him. She is less interested in the crabs- she lives by the sea yet will eat no flesh, like her grandfather would not- but she has taken to paddling more frequently lately. She has been smiling more too. When Elwing joins him, she is still quiet, but he feels the lack of presence when she does not.

Elwing is not like one of Ulmo’s creatures. She does not bend to Eärendil’s will- he does not think he would want her to. She is stubborn and grumpy and entirely herself.

v.

Eärendil is growing. Like a weed, his mother and uncle say. Like a man, his father says. The children that he left Gondolin with are children still, with round cheeks and squeaky voices, but Eärendil is growing up and out, his stomach flattening and his shoulders broadening, hair sprouting on his face and his voice changing like the weather.

He feels like a freak. He swims and swims, to escape the feeling.  The push and pull against the waves burns away the worst of it, but it lingers.

He spends his time with Men. Men, and Elwing. To the Men, he is almost normal - but his parents and his title mean he is never quite one of them. Only to Elwing is he truly alike.

Elwing is changing too. He tries not to notice, when she strips off her dresses to swim with him, but he does.

Some days she waits on the sand while he swims. He calls to her to join him, but she shakes her head firmly, one hand clasped over her stomach, her face pained.

vi.

They race down to the shore together after every council meeting. Elwing is a born stateswoman, and has sat in on every major decision Sirion has made since she was three, but Eärendil is restless and a poor listener. But mother and father and uncle will not be here forever- father’s hair is already the colour of salt and slate, and mother and uncle are frightened- so Eärendil must prepare to lead in their stead. He chases Elwing over the sand after every exhausting rountable discussion, both of them laughing as they run, and they run into the shallows, still fully clothed but for their shoes.

My best friend, Eärendil thinks, as he watches her. Her skirts are heavy with water, and her hair dances in the wind, going up and up and up.

vii.

They journey to Balar, to assist with the building of Eärámmë , and spend a summer there. Elwing rejoices at the sight of her old guardian Círdan, and Eärendil’s heart lifts at her happiness.

For a season, they chop wood and hammer nails. They count their calluses and splinters as proof written on the body of hard work well done. Eärendil listens to Círdan’s teachings, and hangs off of every one.

 He complains he is baking under the sun, and Elwing pushes him into the water, then jumps in after him. They laugh more with each other than with anyone else.

He rises with the sun each morning, to swim. The waters are blessed here, and the shallows carry an abundance of pearls. He gathers more each day, and fashions a headpiece. Elwing wears it as they bid farewell to his parents, and the white pearls in her dark hair shine.

viii.

He kisses her breasts, and listens to her heartbeat. He pushes his tongue inside of her, and tastes the ocean.

viiii.

He begins to dream of the ship he will build soon after the wedding. The great white sails, and the prow of the swan, of the Teleri and of his father. The ship will be a little bit elven, and a little bit not, just like him and his wife.

Every ship needs a name, and he knows at once what he will call his. Foam Flower, for the woman called Star Foam, who is the rarest and brightest-blooming flower that Eärendil has ever known.