#beech hill

[manleycollins]

The day and the life of a substitute teacher. I had 1st, 2nd, 4th, and 9th through 12th. Thanks for the opportunities - Reeves Elementary, Beech Hill Elementary, Sand Hill Elementary, Newington Elementary, and Ashley Ridge High. I learned some new methods on managing kids, getting work out of them, build in positive reinforcement, and masking punishment. For the younger kids, the emoji stick :-| 😐 face destroys their whole world if they do not get a smiley face at the end of the day. For older teens, the importance of respecting a substitute teacher when over 50% of the class decides to use the restroom, go to office, go to media center, or recover a lost item. I was happy to start introducing a one-by-one concept of line and numbering each of them.

[alejaolch]

Polish forest in autumn moodboard Poland, The Low Beskid Mountains October 2022

[kleptonancydrew]

A vocab word for my freshmen is 'supernatural' and in-between breaking it down and going over how to recognise meaning in compound words and contextual significance, all I have echoing through the back of my head is the audio guide from Beech Hill Museum saying "sUUpeRNaturaL".

[sitting-on-me-bum]

Mystical Forest, Beech trees (Fagus sylvatica), Badbury Hill, Oxfordshire, England

‘On the remains of an iron age hill fort on Badbury Hill in Oxfordshire, Badbury Clump is an area of wonderful beech woodland, carpeted in bluebells each spring. On this particular morning, thick fog had descended, creating a magical, ethereal atmosphere, and it was a wonderful experience to be present in the woods with the camera in hand. Shooting into the light, I was struck by the sense of endlessness as the beech trees eerily dissolved into the silent, misty obscurity’

Photograph: Philip Selby

British Wildlife Photography Awards

[wickedjr89gaming]

Rocky asks his girlfriend Delta on a date (not their first).

You know I didn't even notice Sandy was there when Mary-Sue showed up and Hamilton was kissing her. I love the pictures I take for that reason. I see details in them sometimes that I missed while playing. And Sandy is waving, and Hamilton is just aggressively kissing Mary-Sue.

[forensicated]

Sierra-Oscar - a Tumblr community for all fans from Woodentop to Respect Part 2.

At the minute the settings and functionality are a little basic and lacking but hopefully, once it is out of beta we will all be able to do a lot more.

This does mean that it is invite only at the minute and we cannot change this setting.

Please click HERE to visit. If you would like an invite please click like or comment on this post and we will be more than happy to invite you!

[fleetingfutures]

untrodden // march 27th, 2023

[thorsenmark]

Homeward Bound to Places Wild (Blue Ridge Parkway) by Mark Stevens Via Flickr: While at a roadside pullout along the Blue Ridge Parkway. The view is looking to the northwest at the Raven Rock Overlook. In composing this image, I angled my Nikon SLR camera slightly downward, so that I could bring out more of a sweeping view across this mountain landscape. That would in turn allow me to raise the horizon and bring out more of a sense of grandeur present in the image.

[suxxesphoto]

April Landscape Photography 2024

April is all about springtime and capturing all the blooming rapeseed farmland and bluebell and garlic woodland. What follows is my landscape photography adventures through the Kent downs, east Sussex wealds, west Sussex parks and ancient woodland in Wiltshire during April 2024. Continue reading April Landscape Photography 2024

[blackcrowing]

Important Facts about Samhain from an Irish Celtic Reconstructionist

Pronunciation

SOW-in or SOW-een ~NOT~ Sam-han, Sam-win etc.

Dates

Most reconstructionists celebrate Samhain on Oct 31-Nov 1, however some may choose to celebrate on Gregorian Nov 13-14 as this would match the Julian dates of Oct 31-Nov 1. Some also believe that it was a three day festival spanning Oct 31- Nov 2 on which Nov 2 is specifically devoted to ancestral veneration, but there is no specific evidence of this, only possible extrapolation from more modern practices.

Following the Celtic method of days beginning at sunset, regardless of the specific dates you choose to celebrate on your festivities should begin at sunset and end at sunset.

Importance in the Mythos

Ná Morrighan has a strong connection to this time of year thanks to the story of Cath Dédenach Maige Tuired (The Last Battle of Mag Tuired) in which she is found depicted as the ‘Washing Woman’ (sometimes washing herself in the river and other times washing the bloodied armor of the soldiers that would die that day), on the eve of the battle which is also Samhain. The Dagda approaches her and couples with her (creating the ‘Bed of the Couples’ along the bank of river and granting Dagda her blessing in the battle to come). This encounter seems to over emphasize the liminality of the encounter by taking place during the changing of the year and with the couple each standing with ‘one foot on either bank’ of the river.

She and her sisters (Badb and Macha) then use various forms of magic to rain destruction on their enemies (in the form of fire and blood). After the day is won Morrighan speaks a prophecy that describes what is taken by some to be the end of days and others to be the events which will later lead to the Ulster Cycle.

Beneath the peaceful heavens lies the land. It rests beneath the bowl of the bright sky. The land lies, itself a dish, a cup of honeyed strength, there, for the taking, offering strength to each There it lies, the splendour of the land. The land is like a mead worth the brewing, worth the drinking. It stores for us the gifts of summer even in winter. It protects and armours us, a spear upon a shield Here we can make for ourselves strong places, the fist holding the shield Here we can build safe places, our spear-bristling enclosures. This is where we will turn the earth. This is where we will stay. And here will our children live to the third of three generations Here there will be a forest point of field fences The horn counting of many cows And the encircling of many fields There will be sheltering trees So fodderful of beech mast that the trees themselves will be weary with the weight. In this land will come abundance bringing: Wealth for our children Every boy a warrior, Every watch dog, warrior-fierce The wood of every tree, spear-worthy The fire from every stone a molten spear-stream Every stone a firm foundation Every field full of cows Every cow calf-fertile Our land shall be rich with banks in birdsong Grey deer before Spring And fruitful Autumns The plain shall be thronged from the hills to the shore. Full and fertile. And as time runs its sharp and shadowy journey, this shall be true. This shall be the story of the land and its people We shall have peace beneath the heavens. Forever

(based on the translation by Isolde Carmody)

It is also mentioned in Echtra Cormaic that on this festival every seven years the high king would host a feast, it was at this time new laws could be enacted. (but it seems that individual Tuathas or possibly kings of the individual providence may have done this for their territories at Lughnasadh).

It seems to be a time considered especially susceptible to (or of) great change as it is the time which the Tuatha de Danann win victory over the Formorians and take control of Ireland, the invasion of Ulster takes place at this time in Táin bo Cúailnge, in Aislinge Óengusa Óengus and his bride-to-be are changed from bird to human and eventually he claims kingship of Brú na Bóinne at this time of year.

Celebration Traditions

Samhain is the beginning of the “dark half” of the year and is widely regarded as the Insular Celtic equivalent of the New Year. The “dark half” of the year was a time for story telling, in fact in this half of the year after dark is considered the only acceptable time to tell stories from the mythological and Ulster cycle (the Fenian cycle being assumed to be no older than the 12th century based on linguistic dating). Traditionally anything that had not been harvested or gathered by the time of this festival was to be left, as it now belonged to the Fae (in some areas specifically the Púca).

This was also an important time for warding off ill luck in the coming year. Large bonfires would be built and as the cattle were driven back into the community from the pastures they would be walked between these bonfires as a method of purification (the reverse custom of Bealtaine where the livestock were walked between the fires on their way out to the summer pastures). Assumed ritualistic slaughter of some of the herd would follow (though this perhaps had the more practical purpose of thinning the herd before the winter and creating enough food for the feasting). In some areas the ashes from these fires would be worn, thrown or spread as a further way to ward off evil.

Homes would be ritualistically protected from the Aos Sí (Fae or ‘Spirits’) through methods such as offerings of food (generally leaving some of the feasting outside for them), carving turnips with scary faces to warn them off (we now tend to do this with gourds), and smoke cleansing the home (in Scottish saining) traditionally with juniper, but perhaps rowan or birch might be an acceptable alternative. It is likely these would be part of the components used in Samhain bonfires as well, for the same reason.

Lastly based on later traditions as well as links in the mythology this is a time where divination practices or those with the ‘second sight’ were regarded to be especially potent.

Art Credit @morpheus-ravenna

My Kofi

[koji-haru]

Freckles

[Sorry it took so long, but here's the first part of your request @inubaki! I hope you don't mind that I mixed the two into one 🙇‍♀️

Think of this as an extra scene for the Time Travel AU]

It was yet another perfect day in the idyllic garden of Eden. It was just as perfect as Adam had remembered it more than 10,000 years ago. Warm sunny rays that gently kissed his skin, baby blue skies that livened up the atmosphere, a refreshing breeze that sang serenity throughout his entire being. Everything was just as he had always wanted back then, except with a new addition. An angel friend. No, not Lucifer, but his much more tolerable brother, Michael. 

Today, the two were sitting on top of a gentle hill, taking shade from the midday’s rays under the canopy of a large beech tree, its broad foliage a beautiful purple-copper shade. Michael had brought some materials for bringing images to life; canvases, papers, pencils and paint. It was after he had caught sight of Adam creating a sketch of a gigantic moose using charcoal and a thin piece of a tree’s bark. Apparently, Adam had some sort of talent for it, and wanting to hone, Michael had brought down materials for Adam to try.

So now, here he was, sitting across Michael, trying to capture the angel’s very image onto paper. Michael himself seemed to be rather busy gliding his paintbrush across the canvas; a harmony of blues, green, yellows and whites with a dash of purples and pinks, the image of a distant lake was slowly, but meticulously being immortalised onto the canvas. 

As opposed to Michael’s vibrant depiction of Eden, Adam himself had resorted to using coal, slowly etching the heavenly being’s likeness onto a simple piece of paper. Adam’s hand moved slowly and carefully as he gently curved the coal on the paper, using his thumb to shade and fade it out a little, as he tried to draw the angel’s wavy locks; trying to capture the way it shined under the sun, how gently it flowed, and the softness of its texture. Then, he shifted his focus on Michael’s face. The eternal youthfulness of his face, his cool blue eyes that currently held a certain kind of softness to it, and then small little stars that surrounded them. Huh. Adam never really paid much attention to Michael before, but now that he was really looking at him, those little stars actually looked a little like freckles on his face. It looked quite nice, really.

“Hey, Michael,” Adam suddenly called out. “Are those freckles?,” he asked, pointing to his face. 

Michael put down his brush and palette as he turned to Adam, distracted from his painting. “Hmm? What do you mean?”

“The little sparkles under and around your eyes,” Adam clarified, putting down his coal and paper as he leaned forward to press a finger across Michael’s cheeks. “Oh, they even shine a bit!,” Adam added, surprised, as he then fully grabbed the angel’s face and brushed some of his hair behind his ear, running a thumb across the sparkly stars across Michael’s face. 

Michael could feel his face heating up, a yellow flush gradually blossoming on his pale face as his calm heart began to drum loudly within his chest. What was Adam doing? Why was he suddenly so close to him holding his face like that? If he didn’t know any better, it was almost like…

“Pfft!,” Adam laughed. “What’s with that look? I won’t bite you. I’m just taking a more thorough look at your face,” he clarified, grabbing the paper off the grass and showing it to Michael.

It was a surprisingly detailed image of the angel. Capturing details about him from the most obvious to the most fine details. It was almost like looking in a mirror. He had noticed then that it was unfinished, a start of a scribble present on his image’s face, just under the eyes. 

“Oh,” Michael muttered, mainly to himself. He couldn’t help but keep staring at his portrait, the care and detail poured into it. The warmth from earlier came back, filling his heart, but this time more gently, like colourful butterflies playing in the meadow. It spilt from within him and out onto his face in the form of a soft smile, glistening eyes and a tinge of yellow spreading across his cheeks. 

“Hellooo?” Adam waved a hand in front of his face.

“They’re not freckles,” he finally said after a moment. “They’re markings on my face, similar to how Lucifer has his red cheeks.”

Adam leaned closer forward again, invading the flustered angel’s space. “Oh, so they are little gold stars,” he remarked. “They’re quite pretty huh,” he muttered, though Michael heard it, as he leaned back again and returned his focus back on his unfinished drawing. “Kinda like faintly glowing stars at dusk, hmm…,” he muttered some more as he scratched his head trying to plan how to depict that onto paper.

“I wonder if those are the only markings he has. His robes are pretty loose fitting…,” Adam murmured, letting his thoughts unintentionally flow out.

“T-those are my only markings..!,” Michael clarified as he pulled the collar of his robe higher up to hide his flustered face, suddenly feeling very exposed under Adam’s scrutinising gaze. Ironic, considering he wasn’t the naked one.

“Hmm, but you know I can’t really continue drawing you if you hide your face like that,” Adam commented nonchalantly. 

That…was a fair point. And so, while he didn’t really want to, Michael pulled his robe back down and away from his face. “Better?”

“Better, thanks!”

After a while, Michael’s nerves finally returned to their prior calm state as his focus returned to his unfinished painting. His skillful hands brought the sun’s shine onto the painted lake’s surface, glistening like a million jewels strewn all over the body of water, almost ringing like thousands of little bells. The colours evoked a sense of calm and peace that only Eden could ever have, a gentle lullaby and a sweet goodnight kiss. 

Minutes passed like this, with just the whispers of the leaves in the wind and the occasional singing of the birds between the two. Both absorbed by the image they were trying to immortalise. 

Finally, Adam sat straighter up, holding his paper up and a proud look adorning his face. “Done!”

“Oh, may I see it?,” Michael asked, curious at what the final product looked like, especially if it already looked amazing when it was unfinished.

“Here.” Adam handed the drawing to Michael, chest puffed out, hands on his waist and a very proud look on his face. 

If the portrait before amazed him, then this final product took Michael’s breath away. Somehow, Adam had not only captured his very image, but also heightened it. Just the picture itself emitted such ethereal aura that Michael himself wasn’t sure any angel in Heaven had. The feelings it evoked within him was…indescribable. Like something more than the perfection of either Heaven or Eden. Every line and detail, every shadow and shading, all were created and etched onto the paper with such fine delicacy.

“Oh, this is…just breathtaking,” Michael whispered. 

“I know, I know,” Adam grinned even wider, happy to have his ego stroked. 

He even put so much detail on my markings. Michael’s fingers ghosted over the markings on his portrait's face. He had never seen it depicted so beautifully before…

Adam glanced back over at Michael, eyeing the markings on his face. While he didn’t particularly pay too close of an attention to others appearances, he was pretty sure that not all angels, even Heavenborn ones, had some sort of face markings. 

“Maybe it’s a genetic thing…,” he mumbled. 

“Hm?” Michael turned to Adam, putting the portrait down.

 “I wonder if your kids would have the same marks under their eyes,” Adam asked. It would make sense, Lucifer’s brat, Charlie was it?, also had the same red cheeks as her father did. Honestly, Charlie was almost a carbon copy of Lucifer, barely any Lilith in her, well, except for the height obviously. 

Kids? Michael with kids?? Adam’s words put a certain image in Michael’s head. If, somehow, he had kids, what would they look like? Michael imagined them to, yes, have the same markings as he did, a skin as pale as his, oh, or maybe the other would have lovely sun kissed skin. They could have his light golden hair, maybe darker, teetering between brown and gold, and then maybe they could have the same eyes as him, but a lovely gold would also be nice.

…

Oh. 

Michael quickly looked away from Adam. He could feel that certain kind of warmth returning to his skin, dyeing his cheeks as golden as the Eden’s sun, though it definitely wasn’t because of the midday heat.

[cedar-glade]

Old growth beech tree, Fagus grandifolia , Fort Hill SNP and Heritage site.

The largest two of the three have now fallen due to a storm.

Canby's trail.

[unteriors]

Beech Hill Road, Plymouth, New Hampshire.

[petaltexturedskies]

November — with uncanny witchery in its changed trees. With murky red sunsets flaming in smoky crimson behind the westering hills. With dear days when the austere woods were beautiful and gracious in a dignified serenity of folded hands and closed eyes—days full of a fine, pale sunshine that sifted through the late, leafless gold of the juniper-trees and glimmered among the grey beeches, lighting up evergreen banks of moss and washing the colonnades of the pines. Days with a high-sprung sky of flawless turquoise. Days when an exquisite melancholy seemed to hang over the landscape and dream about the lake. But days, too, of the wild blackness of great autumn storms, followed by dank, wet, streaming nights when there was witch-laughter in the pines and fitful moans among the mainland trees.

Lucy Maud Montgomery, The Blue Castle

[pellinni-photo]

forested landscape of ukrainian mountains. nature scenery with primeval beech forest on the grassy hills and meadows in afternoon light

[wickedjr89gaming]

Round 3 households

Widespot: Part 1 (of 3)