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verdigrisprowl · 7 years ago

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Dec 6 Blurr’s Horror Stream - The Dark Tower

Prowl & Co. weren’t actually here tonight. Not much chatting happened.

Welcome to the 'speedxstealer' room. The chat room has been cleared by the moderator. B l u r r: / okay here he is. Walking with the confidence of a murderer. / B l u r r: / and is going to flop on his couch. Yes, good. / ItsyBitsySpyers: *Soundwave is here. Soundwave is tired-ish, and he also flops (if with more grace), but he's here.* B l u r r: / waves at Soundwave / Bevel: *would flop but that might break something so she'll sit in her usual seat and look about as good as one can when they're a purple tank, which is pretty good* B l u r r: / waves at Bevel / Bevel: *waves back* B l u r r: How's my crew mech, huh? B l u r r: [[ lemme know when y'all are ready ]] Bevel: ((ready! FakeProwl: ((im good)) Bevel: Good? B l u r r: ... Just good? Bevel: Really good? B l u r r: ... K-Kyehheeheh. B l u r r: I guess that suffices. B l u r r: [[ i wait for cro to be ready! ]] Bevel: *she's not following this line of questioning and the mun is giggling8 ItsyBitsySpyers: ((i'm here)) B l u r r: [[ kay so everyone is ready? ]] B l u r r: i set up ]] Bevel: ((think so ya B l u r r: [[ kay here we go ]] B l u r r: [[ I think it has captions. Lemme check ]] B l u r r: [[ oh yeah, it does ]] B l u r r: ... I'm asking how you are in a sense of more than good. B l u r r: Details. Bevel: Oh! B l u r r: Oh for pit sake... this human is annoying. Bevel: I have had a lot of time to myself. I made a model ship. B l u r r: Oh? Did you now? B l u r r: Well, we're going to have some things to do soon. Bevel: What kind of things? B l u r r: I think I found another universe. Bevel: Really? B l u r r: Mmhm. B l u r r: A bit hard to locate. I might need some help. Bevel: Do you think I could help any? B l u r r: It's possible... B l u r r: Do you know much about universal travel. Bevel: Some. Maybe not the math parts. B l u r r: ... Pity. I'm not too well versed in math either Bevel: Prowl said he would send me math stuff. Maybe I can ask him about that kind of math? *universe math???* B l u r r: / tilts helm / Depends on if he's going to arrest us or not. Bevel: He is not a cop right now and it is just math. B l u r r: I suppose. B l u r r: even so, we need to make sure we get into the verse right... B l u r r: A wrong jump could put us somewhere we don't want to be Bevel: Oh. That would be bad. You could end up in a black hole or a nebula or space where this is nothing. B l u r r: /shrugs/ I was thinking more along the lines of the wrong territory. Bevel: Wrong like Autobots or Decepticons? B l u r r: Eugh, either. B l u r r: Both Bevel: *laughs* B l u r r: I don't do well with either these days Bevel: Why? It is because you are a pirate? B l u r r: No. I just don't get along with goody two pede Autobots and Decepticons are patheitc at being malicious. ItsyBitsySpyers: [[He wouldn't say that.]] B l u r r: Well, most are. Bevel: Most Autobots I know are not very goody two pede. B l u r r: Most Autobots aren't like me. Bevel: Yeah. B l u r r: [[ he can honestly tell me stories all night ]] B l u r r: I'm better than most Autobots. B l u r r: You see, when we were in the middle of war... Pits, we made most Decepticons look like wilting flowers. Bevel: They call universes like yours negative polarity universes. B l u r r: ... That's rude. B l u r r: There's nothing negative about us. B l u r r: / makes a face/ Okay, MAYBE we have negative attitudes. But, they're pretty positive Bevel: I think it means negative like the electricity in sparks is different. B l u r r: ... We don't have sparks. Bevel: Yeah! But it works sort of the same as sparks. But the energy is different. B l u r r: I suppose so. B l u r r: We've never really researched our differences, to be honest... Bevel: There were lots of bots from both kinds of universes where I lived before I became a mercenary. B l u r r: Hn...? We didn't have much difference. Well, I mean, the Decepticons are wimpy. B l u r r: The Autobot that came from the other world... he was odd. B l u r r: Heroic. Different. Bevel: Yeah, sometimes the Autobot in my world are like that. Bevel: *autobots* B l u r r: It's disappointing. B l u r r: If Autobots were more like us, they wouldn't die so often. Bevel: *frowns sadly* B l u r r: Hnnh? Bevel: I guess. *she doesn't want to talk about heroic Autobots dying* B l u r r: Mm... / shrugs/ It's not all that bad, though. Living on my ship. Is it? Bevel: *perks up* I like having time to make things for fun. B l u r r: Well, you see? That's better than nothing. Bevel: It is! And now we might find another universe which could be really neat to see. B l u r r: K-Kyeheheh. You see? Exploring is worth it. B l u r r: Besides, a new universe means no one knows us. Bevel: No bounty for you :D B l u r r: Exactly! FakeProwl: ((brb, let me know what i miss)) Bevel: ((i'm having so much trouble taking matthew mcgoogle seriously because I literally just watched part of 10 things i hate about you when I travelled out of town B l u r r: [[ omf ]] Bevel: ((no way how to lose a guy in 10 days, whatever, 10 is involved B l u r r: [[ man, i want idris elba to adopt me ]] Bevel: ((he's the love interest douchewaffle nice guy and i can't take him seriously as the bad guy B l u r r: [[ what a GREAT DAD ]] Bevel: ((Idris Elba is great B l u r r: [[ yas ]] FakeProwl: ((i'm back, what'd i miss)) B l u r r: [[ jake's mom is dead, idris elba adopted him, they got guns ]] Bevel: ((and bullets, so many bullets FakeProwl: ((knifeslinger)) FakeProwl: ((... peopleslinger)) B l u r r: YAS IDRIS ELBA. YAS ]] FakeProwl: (("SAVAGES." *eats it*)) B l u r r: [[ me tbh ]] B l u r r: [[ IDRIS ELBA CAN ADOPT ME TOO ]] B l u r r: [[ tbfh ]] B l u r r: [[ btw i have the bh6 baymax movie now if anyone wants to see it sometime ]]

#chat

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one-tale · 8 years ago

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New Chapter 1

The other chapter I posted will most likely become the second chapter now.

The dusty trail to town was coming to an end. Civilization was in view, after nearly two months of nothing but the farm, Ondette finally had a chance to escape to normalcy, or as near as she could come as a one tailed slave.

She was a Halen, a feline species, and the only intelligent species of her world. Standing upright on two legs, with two arms ending in five fingers. Beyond those basics, the species could vary greatly, short fur, long fur, or no fur, long faces, short faces, or flat faces, tall or short, bulky or lithe. Even their numbers of tails varied from person to person. Anywhere between one and eight, depending on their past life, and the moral purity of their soul.

Ondette was of average stature and build. Her fur was short, not quite hugging her skin, but not long enough to sag except at its longest points, such as the fluff on her cheeks, and the top of her head between her two pointed ears. Her coloring was ash grey around most of her body, with aa lighter patch trailing down from her chin to between her legs, trailing out to the inside of her arms as well. The texture of her fur was coarse and dry, serving as a testament to her lifestyle, sleeping on old sheets, bathing once a year, and spending nine hours each day in the sun, working. Her palms were calloused, the thin layer of fur typical to Halen having been rubbed off from handling rakes, hoes, scythes, shovels, and anything else her master deemed necessary work. Her muscles were well defined, her legs substantial from walking all across the massive farm, her arms firm from lifting, pulling, pushing, and anything else required of her.

Her clothes were ragged. The faded brown shirt was tight around her shoulders and stomach; it hadn’t been replaced in years, since before she was fully grown. Even before she had received it, it had gone through the hands of two other owners. The cloth was rough, and rubbed against her fur when she moved, causing some thinning around her joints underneath. Her pants in comparison seemed like silk to her, though they were only black cotton. Her single tail poked through a slit in the back, long and thin, hanging low to the ground as she slowly made her way towards town. Around her neck and over her shoulder hung a small sack, a few coins jingling inside. A makeshift pendant hung from her neck, falling midway down her torso, a simple chip of wood with a barely recognizable letter “M” carved into it, indicating her master had allowed her to leave the farm to go to the market, and nothing else.

Along both sides of the dirt path there were two massive fields of grain. To the right, far behind her a mill’s blades spun, only one of the four blades was intact, the bare skeleton of the three others allowing it to keep balanced, while all force came from the one. Somewhere along her left she knew one of the large rivers in the area ran, cutting a swathe through the fields, carrying water down south to the delta of Godoy Bay. The river would run past town, and meet with another, the one her farm stood on, four kilometers to the west.

The fences that bound her to the path were old and rotten. As far as Ondette knew they could have been there since the dawn of time. Occasionally there were gaps, leading into the vast fields. The thought crossed her mind of slipping into the field, straying from her path, but it was quickly crushed. The plants stood too tall, well above her head, and would obscure her sight, and would cause her to lose all sense of direction and be lost forever. Or at least that’s what the old man, Haplos had told her.

Haplos had been on the farm all his life, and had given up on becoming free. The former owner of the farm, who had died before Ondette could remember, was even worse than his son, Felle, but had developed a soft spot for Haplos. The crafty and double-dealing slave had demonstrated a proficiency in scams and “gambling”, if the setups he constructed could be called that. When the old owner discovered his abilities, he gifted the slave free reign over town, as long as the profits were split between them. The deal continued with Felle after his father’s passing, but with a forty-sixty split. The scams however prevented Haplos from ever developing himself enough to be freed from slavery in his lifetime. His exploits left him just shy of the four tail mark, the requirement for a slave to be freed.

As she passed by a wooden sign leading into town, she read the faded words, old as the barriers on the road, “Welcome to Lagdelte, national agricultural center.” Underneath, in much smaller text she also read, “All one and two tails must report to guard post outside of town, and provide proof of permission or proof of liberation.”

Groaning in annoyance, she strayed from the path, and approached a small building to the right. A single male Halen sat, dozing. Above his head hung a board with several columns of sheets, each with a bright red caption scrawled at the top. “Wanted”, “Missing”, and “Escaped”. The escaped section, which was also the largest, caught her attention, and as she skimmed through the sheets she recognized a total of six names. Five women, and a man. The hopefully former slaves were each described in great detail, listing tail number, height, coloration, and any other distinguishing features. She noted they each had the same description for anything not physical, “Extremely dangerous”. Scoffing at the description, she turned her attention back to the guard.

“Excuse me,” Ondette mewed, attempting to gain his attention.

The guard continued to doze.

“Excuse me, I need to provide proof of permission,” this time louder.

Seeing her words still had no effect, she raised her voice, “HEY, WAKE UP.”

The guard immediately jumped up, and put his hand on the crossbow leaning to the wall behind her, and aimed at her. “State your purpose, one tail.”

Ondette, who immediately regretted waking the guard, put both hands in the air, “I just needed to provide proof of permission like the sign said,” she squeaked.

“Well, hand it over,” the guard kept the crossbow aimed.

Ondette lowered her hand to the wood chip hanging from her neck, the guard shifted the crossbow in his hands as she did so, as if to tell her not to make any sudden movements. The young woman carefully lifted it from her neck, and held it out to the man, who gestured towards the ground with the weapon.

Sighing in annoyance and understanding, she backed up several feet and sat down, and then tossed the amulet to the ground in front of the guard. The guard carefully lowered down, and examined the “M”, and then tossed it back to her.

“To the market and back, don’t let me hear you went anywhere else.”

Ondette nodded at the usual warning, and replaced the amulet. She slowly stood herself back up, and backed away from the guard. Once she was back on the path and continued to walk towards town the guard finally lowered his weapon.

The market was in the center of the town, supposedly bandits used to be a larger problem in the past, and the town had needed to protect its valuables. After the market, there was a ring of shops and businesses, and after that came the homes of the wealthy, and then the middle class, and finally the poor. Because the market, businesses, wealthy, and middle class were encapsulated in center there was no room for the groups to grow. Buildings came and went, but it was one in, one out. None dared expand into the ring surrounding them, lest their building be surrounded by someone from the other group. Only the poor on the outskirts had room, slowly expanding into the fields around the town.

The wailing of the beggars quieted as she passed. She noticed their tails flicking to and fro as they eyed her. They knew that they would get nothing from a slave, and they feared what she may do if they heckle her for coin. A small girl approached her, five tailed and tan with dark splotches around her arms and face. Ondette wasn’t sure if the secondary colors were a natural part of her fur, or grime.

“A bronse for two flowers, ma’am?” the naïve child offered, holding out a basket of wilted flowers.

Ondette smiled and opened her mouth to explain she didn’t have specific change for that, but two hands grasped her shoulders and pulled her back, and pushed her away. “Stay away from my daughter, I know your game, one tail,” the mother snarled, her three tails whipping back and forth. “You were a child molester, weren’t you? It will always be in your nature! You stay away!”

Barely registering the hostility, having become accustomed to the treatment, Ondette stumbled away, and continued through to the center of the city. The transition from the poor area to the next was abrupt. Houses increased in size and quality instantly from one to the next, parallel on both sides. Dirt and filth had been pushed off the street, and left in one long pile, drawing a line through the street between the two areas. Small streaks breached through, dragging into the clean streets where carts had rolled through. The slave stepped over the line after pausing for a moment, and continued towards her destination.

The middle-class ring was mostly empty, as the majority of its residents would be at work this time of day. Several wives were out weeping doorsteps, they glanced at her with concern, but didn’t bother her at all. Two children, a light grey four tail, and a white and brown calico five tail, tossed a sack of beans back and forth from opposite sides of the cobblestone street. Ondette stopped when she came across them, waiting to see if they would pause for a moment to allow her to pass. They continued, despite her presence. After waiting for a good opportunity to slip through she quickly ducked through without being hit, and trotted along the street with a few quick steps to make up for lost time. She smiled at the innocence of the children, wishing her life had taken a similar route, until the sack of beans struck the back of her head, and the sounds of giggling came from behind her.

The two children laughed out loud when she turned around and scowled at them. Her anger began to boil over as she bent down to grab the sack laying limp at her feet, and pulled back her arm, aiming to put the sack on the roof. She heard the gasps of the children, and their faces turned fearful, reaching their arms out in futility at the woman.

Ondette stopped herself before she did anything she would regret. She turned and instead of throwing it on the roof as she had planned, threw it down the street, past the boys and down the street. The boys promptly followed in pursuit. She stood in place and watched them chase the ball, as it bounced and slid several times, and fell into a drain. Her hand collided with the side of her face, “even when I try” she muttered under her breath.

She evacuated the area quickly, before the children could tell their parents, and get her into trouble. She would have to take a different route out of town.

The passage to the upper-class ring was less abrupt. The street was equally clean on both sides, although the houses increased in size and ornateness. They were nothing compared to paintings she had seen in the marketplace of grand mansions in the capital, Godoy, but compared to the shack she slept in they may as well be a palace.

Each house, unlike the houses in the previous rings, had a small fenced off area between the street and the building, filled with grass or other plants. Ondette eyed the gardens in confusion, why in the name of Niende would someone farm for fun? She would never do anything with plants if she had any choice in the matter. It was back breaking work, and always left her tired, filthy, and sick from the strong scent of the soil, if she didn’t do it she would be refused her daily portions and starve, and here these rich Halen did it to make their yards “pretty”, or smell “nice”.

As she shook her head at the gardens and continued forward through the relatively thin ring, a small white furry animal jumped up on top of the fence, and fixed its yellow eyes on her. Its head, tail, and fur were very similar to her own, but that was where the similarities ended. It stood on four legs, instead of two, and instead of feet and hands the stubby limbs ended in small round paws.

Ondette was surprised at the cat, they were uncommon pets. Most Halen preferred dogs as companions, some breeds were utilitarian, while others were more decorative, but the largest reason cats were rare as a house pet was their uncomfortable similarity to Halen. Ondette assumed whatever snotty aristocrat was particularly eccentric to have something like this. The cat leaned out over the fence and gave Ondette a sniff, flicking its single tail behind it. Ondette tentatively ran her fingers through its fur, allowing the tail to slide through her fingers at the end. “I guess we aren’t so different, are we?” she thought out loud to the animal.

A figure came out from behind the house, “Get away from my cat!” the woman screeched, and rushed to the two felines, scooping up the smaller of the two, and throwing a dirty look at the larger. “She didn’t hurt you, did she? If only one tailed Halens were as sweet and nice as you, Snuffles” she comforted, as the cat struggled against her, digging its claws into her garden apron.

Her treatment as she passed through the business ring was reminiscent of the poor ring. Shopkeepers simply ignored her as she passed, not willing to waste the energy on her. This ring had the most bustle, as customers wandered between buildings, and apprentices carried deliveries between locations. She apologized to the first few people she bumped into, but after her words were not reciprocated she gave up and pushed through to the end, finally reaching the large square in the center, where hundreds of stalls were set up by wandering traders, farmers from the surrounding area, and aspiring business owners who could not yet afford a building in the business ring.

The cobblestone was both the cleanest, and the dirtiest of anywhere in the city. At one stall the dirty may be clean enough to eat from, and its neighbor scummy, dirty, or even covered in dung, since fertilizer was sold in some stalls.

“Hey! Ondette!” A familiar voice called. The subject’s head spun around, trying to locate the source of the sound in the din of the crowd. “Over here!” this time she was able to zero in on the voice, and rushed over to the speaker, jumping on him in a bear-hug.

“Flukt!” she cried as she squeezed the short, silver tabby male. “You got a job!?”

“That’s the thing you’re noticing?” He smirked, “not my iron medallion?” he lifted up the roughly circular piece of grey metal from his chest, with five long lines carved into it, representing his new spiritual tail number, differentiating from his two birth tails.

“Well I assumed you had passed after you never came back to the farm,” Ondette blushed slightly. “Either that or made a dash for the border, but if that was the case you wouldn’t be able to show your face here.”

“I was bound to pass anyway, even old Haplos admitted it,” Flukt rubbed his fist against the medallion and grinned.

“He still denies that he ever said that,” Ondette crossed her arms, “and to be honest I don’t believe it either.”

“Believe what you want, but you knew I would get out,” the former slave shrugged, “I just didn’t expect to get an iron medallion instead of bronze.”

“Bronze is spiritually four tail, right?” Ondette questions, “I can never keep them straight.”

“Yup, copper is three, bronze is four, iron is five, steel is six, silver is seven, and gold is eight,” he counted off on his fingers.

“I only needed to know bronze, you didn’t have to list them all,” the woman rolled her eyes. “So, what have you been doing for work? I thought it was hard for former slaves to find anything.”

Flukt gestured to the stall behind him. “I joined this caravan of traders. Their leader grew up in Ny-Ide so he’s a bit more open minded. We started in Godoy, crossed over to Osthavn, and then continued up along the coast until Norhavn, and came down here to Lagdelte. The whole journey took about a year.”

“You were in Godoy for five months?” Ondette’s eyes widened in worry, “What did you do then?”

The man shrugged, “I mostly floated between shelters, did a few odd delivery jobs, stuff like that. Some of the other former slaves I met there had resorted to stealing to get by, but I didn’t want to get caught in that trap, if you know what I mean.”

She nodded somberly, and leaned against his stall, “Yeah, I’ll get worried I won’t pass since I still have a lot of problems with my anger, but I’m just as worried I will pass. I always hear about how few opportunities there are for us out there.”

“Ah”, Flukt mumbled in acknowledgement, unsure of how to comfort the woman. A moment passed, as neither knew quite what to say. “So, uh, does Skaper still do his wood carvings? That’s something he could probably do to get by after he’s released.” He took a moment to dig through a bag on the inside of the stall, before pulling out a small knife. “I got this baby when we were passing through the mountains and ran into another caravan at the area my boss wanted us to camp in.” He showed it to her, “The handle was carved out of a Vakten lizard’s tooth, must have been a big one. I didn’t think they made it past ten feet long. It made me think of Skaper, so I got it for him. I knew his next test chance at his twenty fifth birthday wasn’t for another two years so I’d be able to give it to him when I passed through.”

“It’s, beautiful,” Ondette reached out her hand, before pulling back. “I’m. afraid he isn’t at the farm now. He made a run for the border about a month ago, with all of the other adult girls.”

Flukt’s hand dropped, as his eyes widened, “You can’t be serious. That wimp actually ran away. He’s crossing the desert?”

“That was the plan I think,” Ondette nodded, “They invited me to come as well, but I just couldn’t get behind it, especially when my twentieth birthday was only months away. I didn’t want to risk my life.”

The trader took a moment to examine the knife, “Yeah. I wish him the best.” He gripped the knife tightly for a moment, before pressing it into Ondette’s hand. “Just hang onto it I guess. If he comes back, give it to him. If not, it’s yours.”

The slave’s eyes widened, as she tried to give it back, “No! No! I can’t take this! Felle would have my tail if he knew I took anything that could be used as a weapon.”

“It’s not a weapon, it’s a tool,” he comforted her, and refused to take it back. “And he doesn’t have to know. It’s not like he does regular strip searches of cabins.”

“Are you sure?” Ondette eyed him, “This must be worth a month of your pay…”

“Two actually,” he grinned, “And it’s not like I can just take it back. So just take it.”

Hesitantly, the woman lowered the folded knife into her sack. “I should probably go. Felle just sent me to get corn for planting, he had to sell our usual replanting stock to pay off a debt in the short run. He’ll be suspicious if I take too long, especially considering six of his slaves just ran off.”

Flukt nodded in understanding, “By all means. It was great seeing you, Ondette; I wish you the best of luck in your test.”

The woman bit her lip for a moment, as her blue eyes teared up some, before pulling her old friend into a hug, and continuing further into the market.

After the interaction, she quickly found the stall selling seeds and produce, and spent what little coin Felle had given her to buy the seeds. She realized after she had two bronse left over which she could use to buy flowers with from the girl, before remembering the attitude of the mother. She instead bought a small sack, which she filled with some of the corn she had bought. On the way out of the city she placed it on the side of the street where she saw the two children playing. Once she was far enough down the street she heard a door open, turning around she caught one of the children reaching out to grab the sack, before running back into his home, without acknowledging her.

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viralhottopics · 8 years ago

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The Very Serious Reason Why You Should Never, Ever Sit In A Field Of Wildflowers

Every state has a flower, and California’s is the mesmerizing, orange California poppy.

Annually, these beautiful wildflowers open in massive drifts across the state. In an area of Mojave Desert, there’s an especially beautiful annual bloom called, fittingly, the superbloom.

The wildflower superbloom (which is made up of a whole range of wildflowers, not just poppies) lasts just 3 or 4 months before the arid desert summer takes over, but the brief period of time when the poppies are alive is truly spectacular.

People come from all over the world to see it in action. They also come to take selfies.

There’s nothing wrong with capturing the moment, butmany people seem to be using the superbloom flowers as a backdrop for their own personal fashion shoots.

We’d all like to hope that encountering a rare pink dolphin or a perfect quivering poppy would be a moment of reverence, but a few bad apples are ruining the experience for everyone.

A florist and environmentalist named Yasmine recently posted photos of damaged areas of the superbloom to her Instagram as a warning of what can happen when people don’t respect nature.

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Instagram / yasminemei

A florist named Yasmine Mei recently took to Instagram with a dire warning for all the ‘nature-lover’ trampling the superbloom flowers in pursuit of the perfect selfie.

Her photos shows a cluster of the signature California poppies, with a giant flattened circle of grass in the middle evidently where someone sprawled out to capture a perfect selfie.

Her powerful image of the marred beauty of the superbloom received thousands of likes on Instagram, but it deserves even more attention.

Instagram / yasminemei

In the caption accompanying the photo, she writes:

See the large spot where there are no poppies?Look closely.

You’ll notice that there were poppies (probably a few days ago), but they were crushed, likely by someone who wanted to get an Instagram photo sitting in a field of flowers.

Every time I see a sight like this, I’m disheartened.

Instagram / yasminemei

To those hoping to photograph these beautiful, delicate, California natives, stick to the paths.

Loving nature means respecting it.

P.S. I’m sure that people who have rolled around in California poppies were unaware of the damage they were causingdamage that could last a few years (that’s according to CA parks service, I’m not just pulling information out of thin air)so this is a cautionary tale for those who are planning a poppy adventure soon.

Facebook / Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve

The California Parks Department does indeed back up Yasmine’s words.

On the webpage for the Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve, the park that is home to most consistent superbloom, officials have laid out guidelines and cautionary words to would-be models and collectors:

Going off of the trails to walk in the poppies crushes the plants and may resultin a ticket.

DO NOT step off the official trail where others have already damaged plants or there is only bare dirt; it will compound the damage and leave a scar for years to come.

No dogs, bikes, drones, or picking flowers.

Facebook / Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve

Elsewhere, the Parks department notes that, “ALL the flowers in the park are protected;pickingthem is illegal and you may be cited for each flower damaged.”

That’s because picking a poppy doesn’t just kill that individual flower, it also causes the head of the flower to wilt, preventing it from scattering its seeds even if it is discarded.

In other words,a sight like the one above is only possible if the flowers are allowed to shed their seeds naturally, to perpetuate the bloom.

Facebook / Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve

Beauty like this is too spectacular to be damaged by tourists who have no idea how badly they are damaging the wildlife, so we’re hoping to get the word out there.

We aren’t naming any names, but social media is still full of beautifully-dressed nature lovers posing in fields of poppies, probably completely unaware of the damage they are doing to the superbloom.

With a little luck, we can spread the word and help educate people about the dangers of picking and stepping on wildflowers!

If you want to preserve this vista for future generation, be sure toSHAREfor all nature-lovers!