#little beehive cluster

[quiltofstars]

The Little Beehive Cluster, M41 // Kevin Kurtz

[angel-of-the-moons]

Any peeps in Florida/down south! In light of many people likely losing power, here is a friendly tip if you want to wash your hair etc!

These are awapuhi (shampoo) "bitter" ginger; also known as the "beehive flower", "pinecone flower" or "corn flower" as I like to sometimes call them.

I have seen them grow in nice big clusters in different parts of Florida (and some other places too). These flowers have helped out the past couple of years when we don't have running water during outages and storms; but we want to stay clean!

(images found on Google)

HOW TO IDENTIFY:

They are rather obvious plants, but some come in different colors! The "unripe" ones are usually green, and their nectar smells slightly bitter but still works the same as a fully mature plant. Just remember to be a bit more gentle on these, and the tiny blossoms they may have on them.

If you want a sweeter, more perfume flowery-type scent: a ripe flower can range from deep pink/red (like these images), though I've read that some can get darker.

WHAT THE NECTAR IS/HOW TO USE IT:

The liquid "nectar" can range from thick to watery--but!--you can put it in your hair and let it dry (it does dry like water) and it will help keep your hair shiny and lightly fragranced.

I grow my own, but if you see them, try to collect the nectar in things like bottles or cups, and apply as much as you like/need for your hair. I recommend holding your head over a sink or tub to keep it from getting everywhere while you cleanse.

(It CAN make your eyes sting if you get it in them, so be careful!)

You can also freeze them in ice cube trays or small Tupperware for later use to preserve the quality of the nectar as it CAN go sour at room temperature if left out for too long (ask me how I know THAT lol). I usually only harvest a few ounces and put it in the fridge for immediate use a few times a week.

HOW TO HARVEST:

DO NOT remove the flower or cut it, as they do not grow quickly and you will kill the plant that much quicker. Try to avoid bending the stalks as well. As we approach the end of their season, I hope people can get a lot of use from these little guys in the wake of the storm!

Make sure to wear rubber/latex/vinyl gloves if it feels icky (some of them also have tiny barbs. While not painful, they can be annoying to graze while milking the plant). With all the rain incoming, these flowers will be nice and plump--full of nectar!

What you do is lightly squeeze in an upward motion and make sure the nectar drips into your container or hand (a funnel greatly increases chances of a better collection). You can strain it through a coffee filter to remove any unwanted "pulp", bugs or dirt. Then use as you please!

The nectar also soothes things like bug bites, cracked skin etc (at least in my personal experiences with it) so you can also use it for that! Just remember to do an allergy test just in case you're worried about that.

These are uses I can confirm myself that work! I love harvesting bare-handed because it always leaves my skin so soft and buttery!

Stay safe out there from this storm, everybody.

And have fun jerking off your flowers aksksklsdl

[haydenn]

One of the angels is his group looked at the bottles lined up behind the bar, jaw dropped and looking scandalized, “Alcohol? But that’s a source of drunkenness!”

“Yes, that’s why it’s fun,” Crowley smiled at them before sauntering up to the bar. “Barkeep! A round of whatever you think’s drinkable for all my friends.”

Crowley helped pass out pints of beer to everyone in his group and then milled about, showing a pair of demons how to shoot pool and a pair of angels how to throw darts. The barkeep dealt blackjack for a group sitting at the bar. Crowley was pleased to see that many of the angels and demons under his charge were sitting together and chatting in a way that, while not friendly, was at least not openly hostile. Smiling a little to himself, he took a seat alone at a table near the window to keep an eye on how the rest of the Faire was faring. 

Outside the window, other groups were milling about Whickbar Street. Crowley saw a group of angels and demons clustered around Nova’s flower stand in front of the bookshop. She was handing out long stemmed flowers to each of them, white roses and daisies, sunflowers and chrysanthemums. He had to chuckle a little at the different reactions the angels and demons had to the flowers. Several were smelling them, some smiling and others with looks of confusion or skepticism. Some were tucking the flowers into their hair and button holes. One confused-looking angel put their sunflower blossom side down on top of their head like a hat. Others were trading the flowers, trying to collect each variety. And one demon, whose mountain goat horns had been disguised with an elaborate beehive wig, ate theirs whole. 

Across the street from the flower stand, Aziraphale stood with his group sampling the drink Nina had prepared. Aziraphale chatted animatedly with a demon while sipping on what Crowley hoped was anything but an oat milk latte (He’d developed rather an aversion to those.) and nibbling on an Eccles cake. The sunlight made his hair glow like a halo and his eye crinkled as he smiled at the demon. He was lovely. The most beautiful being in all of creation. Crowley could look at him all day and not want for anything. But, seeing how his angel laughed with the other demon reminded Crowley that he was supposed to be mingling with his own group instead of skulking by the window. Being friendly did not come as naturally to him as it did to Aziraphale, but if their plan was to work, he needed to be personable.  

________________

The Whickber Street Cultural Exchange Faire is officially underway in the newest chapter of May You Be Forgiven (pt 2).

Here's a link to part one if you haven't read it yet.

[theothervonkarmagirl]

"These wasps are easy to deal with. You just have to be brave."

A certain species of wasp was terrorizing a beehive. Said wasp was large and venomous enough to kill humans and animals easily, but Clara walked over to a cluster of them with a net, caught one, and disarmed it with her foot like she'd been doing it for years.

"Here's the magical part."

She released the wasp onto a glue trap she'd prepared. Naturally, it wasn't going anywhere.

"These wasps release pheromones when they're in danger. They draw all the nearby wasps over to them. This one will lure the others away from the hive, they'll all get stuck, and there you have it! Safe bees!" She folded her arms. "These are a little cruel for mice. But they're okay for wasps."

[innocentlymacabre]

The cavern boasted an impressive selection of species, sure to rattle the first-time patron. It was like those forced diversity university pamphlets, only the diversity in this case was actually real.

“HA! I told you they would leave. Next round’s on you,” Axle boasted.

“How in the name of fuck did you know that?” Lott lamented, waving to the bartender for two more whiskeys.

“Well, while you’ve got that lovely little Tracker lounge of yours, I stay loyal to this bar. Any time I’m in the human realm, I drink here. And I’ve been spending a lot of time here lately. Morgan and Morrigan – that’s who those two were –”

“Yes, of course I know that. Only two necromancers this side of the Atlantic worth a damn.”

“Right well, Morrigan happened to have ghosted that werewolf. Twice.”

Lott sucked his teeth in. “Twice?”

“Twice.”

“Fool me once?”

“Yeah, well, a werewolf can still rip you to shreds with ease, full moon or not.”

“Good point. You know who’s probably too stubborn to be ripped to shreds?”

“Lay it on me. What did Jayce do now?”

“Oh, he’s got this insane idea.”

Lott raised his paw to the table to show Axle the wound.

“Long story short, I got this wound from a dream and we’ve tracked the dream down to The Crescent of Fools and Forgotten Time.”

“Why not just name it Foreshadowing McDeath at that point?”

“I shit you not, I thought that exact thing. Anyway, Jayce has got it in his head – and unfortunately mine too – that we’re going to go to the Crescent and find out what’s what.”

“God damn.”

“Yeah.”

“When do you leave?”

“Day after. Jayce said he’s got to visit an old friend or something. I don’t know. He said it’s better if he goes alone.”

“Concerning.”

“I suppose.”

A small moment of silence lapsed between the two of them, as they sipped their drinks and turn their attention to the bar around them. A group seemingly made of exclusively people with some pointy feature crowded around the dart board, vampires, gnomes, elves, and more drunkenly slurring out bets. A moleman entered from the dark of the outside and slipped a pair of sunglasses on, muttering something about modern electricity being a curse. The characteristic twinkling lights of fairies floated around, greens and reds and pinks blinking around the room. They were just faint enough that it would have been easy to convince someone drunk enough that they were just seeing things.

“There used to be a beehive just outside my window,” Axle said, breaking the brief silence.

“Hmm?”

“When I was a child. Outside my window there used to be a cluster of beehives. Bees twinkle just like fairies in the Dreaming. I used to fall asleep to their soothing glow.”

“What happened?”

“Hmm?”

“Why “used to”?”

“Oh. We moved. We moved houses. I sometimes dream I’ll buy that place again, sometime in the future. Little holiday home. Or someplace I go when I want to feel the warmth of home around me. I’d like to show it to Trance one day.”

“Can they even enter the Dreaming?”

“Not sure. We haven’t tried that yet. But I don’t see why not.”

“Hey,” Lott said, raising his glass. “To beehives.”

Axle clinked his and smiled. “To beehives.”

“Want to get out of here? I hear we’ve got a wonderful moon tonight.”

“You asking me out on a midnight flight, Morton?”

“You going to say yes, Carter?”

Axle looked at Lott in the eyes and gave him a lopsided smile. He shrunk down until he was small enough to zip through the busy bar and shot outside. Lott laughed and followed him out, clumsily wading through the sea of drunken patrons.

“Lead the way, good sir.”

Lott and Axle took off. Their wings spun around one another, their bodies intertwined in the air, and their conjoined form cast a shadow on the town below against the magnificent light of the moon.

↝✧↝

I'd started taking my writing a bit too seriously and somewhere along the way I forgot that art is fundamentally meant to be fun. So I decided to do something dumb. I took two characters from two different projects - both dragons, by the way - gave them a pre-existing relationship, and chucked them into a bar. It's unedited, it's stupid, and nothing said here has any sort of impact or acts as any sort of indictor for the canon of either story, but it was fun. So I wanted to share this with you.

ko-fi 💜 • newsletter ☕ • instagram • masterlist

[mentallyinvernation]

Dreamling Bingo - Creature: Canine

Preview of a werewolf Hob fic

2023 @dreamlingbingo fill for square: B2 Creature: Canine

｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Hob always likes the morning after a full moon.

The forest is quiet, dappled light filtering through the leaves as dawn yawns into a new day, the scent of damp moss, softwood and garlic toying pleasantly with his nose. The air is crisp, and Hob’s paws crunch through the lay of snow as he trots happily along the underbrush, winding his way through the maze of trees. It’s the middle of winter, but the cold doesn’t bother him past the shaggy fur coat of this form.

A rabbit hangs limp from his jaw, the metallic tang of blood singing on his taste buds, and adrenaline pumps through his veins after a night spent racing through the woods, engaged in the thrill of a hunt. It’s always so much better when the moon is at its peak. His senses seem sharper, faster. Hob entertained himself by chasing a stag for a short while, but only for a bit of fun. As much as his instincts yearn to bring home the biggest kill, he doesn’t think his husband would appreciate waking up to find a mangled stag carcass left on the kitchen tiles. Dream is, without a doubt, the strangest packmate Hob has ever had the good fortune of living with, but then again, Dream isn’t a wolf. Dream’s human, and not overly fond of dead animals being brought into the house - though, he does keep stealing their bones for those freaky little rituals of his.

The trees part as Hob comes across a picturesque glade, revealing a cabin with a smoking chimney tucked in one corner and an iced over pond to one side. There’s gloam gathered at the edges, shadows that weave the surrounding thicket together like a shield, but the centre is bright and lush. Home. Hob’s tail wags helplessly at the sight, and he breaks into a run, feeling the welcoming brush of Dream’s magic sweep over him like the drag of cool fingers in his fur as he passes through the protective wards set up around the area. The cabin is invisible to everyone but them, and should deter any hikers from travelling this far up. It’s really quite genius. Strong magic. It prevents creature hunters from discovering their location, and as Dream tells him, will act as a temporary shield should they ever be found out.

Hob kicks up plumes of snow behind him as he races over to the cabin, heavy-footfalls matching the beat of his thudding pulse, only slowing once he reaches the disorderly arrangement of planters at the front of the house, all of them growing a wild array of herbs, flowers, and crops that are impossibly flourishing even in this weather. The only thing that hasn’t been touched by the snow is the collection of beehives, as though there’s an invisible umbrella above them. There’s a strange, unrecognisable cluster of purple mushrooms that make Hob’s nose itch with the urge to sneeze as he passes, but then he catches the familiar scent of petrichor and lightning, and perks up considerably, eagerness snowballing in his gut at the close proximity of his mate.

He drops the rabbit unceremoniously on the doorstep, flexing his jaw from carrying it for so long. Beside it, there’s a jar of what Hob thinks might be fireflies (but he can never really be sure) glittering and glowing a luminant blue. Hob’s not sure whether it’s supposed to be an outside light, an ornament, or if they’re ingredients Dream gathered and forgot to bring inside earlier. Regardless, Hob learnt his lesson a long time ago about touching things he doesn’t understand, so he leaves it be (Dream’s awful when it comes to leaving his experiments about the place).

Shifting between forms is never a pleasant experience; it’s a crushing, tightening feeling all over, like trying to fit into a jumper that’s too small, joins popping this way and that, before he’s sprawled on the ground in a heap of fleshy limbs. Hob lets out a shuddering breath, letting the pain seep out of him again befre shaking the snow and leaves out his hair, running his tongue over his bottom teeth as they shrink into something less visicious. God, he hates that part. But it doesn’t last long, and he’d do it again and again to keep returning to Dream.

Once Hob manages to pull himself onto both feet, staggering slightly as he adjusts to the balance change, he opens the front door as quietly as possible and slips inside. All Hob wants to do right now is sink into the embrace of his mate, instincts still charged by the moon and leaping. But before he can make it more than a step into the corridor, he’s greeted by their resident cat sat waiting for him. Hob freezes. Technically speaking, it’s not their cat. Hob doesn’t even know where the blasted thing came from, it just showed up one day and started following Dream around. Always. Hob has tested this. Wherever Dream goes, the cat is always neabry. The only reason Hob hasn’t attempted to get rid of it is because Dream didn’t seem overly concerned about its presence.

“Jessamy is exactly where she needs to be,” Dream had explained without really explaining anything at all when Hob asked, and like, what the fuck, okay then, they live with a cat now apparently.

Except this cat quite plainly hates Hob’s guts for no good reason.

It also probably bears mentioning that Hob doesn’t think Jessamy is a cat at all. She might look like one, but she smells like…like hellfire. Frankly, Hob isn’t sure what she is - a demon, a goblin, the embodiment of evil - whatever. The general term is probably a familiar. Maybe. Hob’s not sure of that either, but it’s the best explanation he’s got for a magically appearing cat that’s latched onto the closest thing to a wizard in this area.

Long story short, Hob hates his cat, and he’s pretty sure Jessamy hates her werewolf too. But they both refuse to leave because they both like the not-really-wizard, so they’re at a bit of a stalemate with the matter.

Jessamy’s tail swishes back and forth as her eyes flick up and down Hob’s body, unimpressed. He suppresses a shiver, suddenly far more aware of the chill and the fact he’s butt naked now that he’s lost his coat. Goosebumps are prickling over his skin, and theres a horrible ache starting up in his knee from a wonky shift that happened a few years ago.

“Fuck off already,” he whispers with a glare. “Go on, scram.”

Jessamy stares back at him, and he feels his hackles rise. The thing is while Hob is objectively terrifying, Jessamy is actually terrifying.

But after a moment she seems to decide he’s allowed inside - his own fucking home - and pads off to go darken some other corner of the house. Hob’s shoulders relax again, and his eyes land on a pile of neatly folded clothes on the entryway table, set out with a glass of water and some painkillers. Hob smiles, affection bursting in his chest, and knocks two of the painkillers back, chugging the rest of the water. The clothes Dream set out for him are light; a threadbare t-shirt and some washed-out, blue joggers. Hob tugs on the joggers a little awkwardly, hopping sideways as he tries to tug one leg through and colliding with the wall. The thump makes him wince, but he doesn’t hear any movement in the rest of the house.

After he’s decent - not that it really matters, but it is much comfier - he pads down the hallway to go wash his face, sure that there’s probably blood streaked down his chin, only to pause between the leaping archway of the living room. There, on the worn, green couch, is Dream. There’s a book laying open on his chest, and his head is lolled sideways at a bit of an awkward angle, cheek resting on the armrest, eyes shut. Hob tilts his head, listening to the soothing mantra of his heartbeat. He must have been waiting up for Hob. No wonder Jessamy was in such a foul mood with him. If there’s one thing they both agree on, it’s making sure Dream gets enough sleep.  

[adragonsoulants]

Forgot to share this crazy happenstance of events. So my family and I keep honey bee's, last year I developed an allergy to their stings but that's not important to this story.

Gonna put a break here but there's pics of bees swarming below the cut if you're interested!

So we have a little homemade green house out by our beehives and I was in there planting some gourd seeds that finally started to sprout ( 2/10 so far 😭) and while I was out there I was like "why do the bees sound like they've been getting louder?" Figured it was just me and didn't pay much mind.

Then I turn to leave the green house and see loads of flying around!! Startling! Caught them right as they were starting to swarm. I go in to talk with a family member about it but we've only had this happen once before and we didn't know till it was too late and haven't had a hive make it over the winter since. I decided to head back out and see what they're doing now a few mins later and sure enough! They were in fact swarming and had clustered on a nearby tree right in easy reach for us!

They were really weighing down those branches, I think one cluster fell off because of the weight haha.

Sadly in the rush of things I left my phone inside while changing so I wasn't able to get any more photos of the process but it's a pretty simple one.

I'll try to explain it!

So basically we go grab an empty hive and put it under the clusters and just shake them off into the box haha.

If we had a little thing to put the queen we would go looking for her first (though we've never been good at that) so that we can be sure she got in. It kinda looks like those plastic hair clips with the claws, but like to hold a bee haha.

We know the queen is in the hive once other worker bees literally start marching into the box, highly recommend looking up a video of it, it's wild they just form a line walking right in. Other bees will stick their butts in the air and use their wings to fan out pheromones for other bees to find the nest.

After we get most the bees in we close up the top, we did put in some frames with some honey on them to give them a little boost and entice them to stay ;)

During the whole process the bees are surprisingly chill! Swarming bees (assuming they aren't of the killer bee variety) are! They have no brood or honey to protect at this point and are really exposed.

We had gone and checked our other hives as well as the one this came from to see if any others were about to swarm and they are all remarkably chill as well, we suspect whatever pheromones the swarming hive gave off was also affecting the other hives.

Oh and to add the hive that had swarmed had already FILLED with honey?! ITS NOT EVEN JUNE!! We gave them an extra honey medium and even took two frames out of their brood deeps that were just honey and scored them to uncap them so that the honey would be recollected by all the hives. And we replaced them with empty frames for them to hopefully put brood on this time.

Also the photo above, they aren't trying to establish a home there. They're collecting there to wait for scouts to come back and tell them about potential new locations for their home. Figured I should add that.

Also when a hive swarms they more like splitting into 2 hives. The one that leaves has the current queen that they've been training and getting ready for this. And the old hive is in the process of making a new queen with premade queen cells and they feed the larva a very rich honey, often called Royal Jelly, to turn what would just be a worker into a queen.

These little bugs really plan this shit out.

So anyways that evening we went to check on them and make sure they were still in the box and sure enough they're still hanging around!

You might also notice that doesn't look like a typical wooden hive box. It's made of styrofoam so it's lighter than the traditional wooden nest while also being like 10x more insulating.

It gets pretty cold in the winter here with a lot of temperature fluctuations, lot of melt and freeze, and some strong northern winds so it helps them out in the winter.

Thanks for reading this word dump!

[wayti-blog]

Astronomers discover striking evidence of 'unusual' stellar evolution

“Astronomers have found evidence that some stars boast unexpectedly strong surface magnetic fields, a discovery that challenges current models of how they evolve.

In stars like our sun, surface magnetism is linked to stellar spin, a process similar to the inner workings of a hand-cranked flashlight. Strong magnetic fields are seen in the hearts of magnetic sunspot regions, and cause a variety of space weather phenomena. Until now, low-mass stars—celestial bodies of lower mass than our sun that can rotate either very rapidly or relatively slowly—were thought to exhibit very low levels of magnetic activity, an assumption which has primed them as ideal host stars for potentially habitable planets.

In a new study, published today in The Astrophysical Journal Letters, researchers from The Ohio State University argue that a new internal mechanism called core-envelope decoupling—when the surface and core of the star start out spinning at the same rate, then drift apart—might be responsible for enhancing magnetic fields on cool stars, a process which could intensify their radiation for billions of years and impact the habitability of their nearby exoplanets.

The research was made possible due to a technique that Lyra Cao, lead author of the study and a graduate student in astronomy at Ohio State, and co-author Marc Pinsonneault, a professor of astronomy at Ohio State, developed earlier this year to make and characterize starspot and magnetic field measurements.

Although low-mass stars are the most common stars in the Milky Way and are often hosts to exoplanets, scientists know comparatively little about them, said Cao.

For decades, it was assumed that the physical processes of lower mass stars followed those of solar-type stars. Because stars gradually lose their angular momentum as they spin down, astronomers can use stellar spins as a device to understand the nature of a star's physical processes, and how they interact with their companions and their surroundings. However, there are times where the stellar rotation clock appears to stop in place, Cao said.

Using public data from the Sloan Digital Sky Survey to study a sample of 136 stars in M44, a star crib also known as Praesepe, or the Beehive cluster, the team found that the magnetic fields of the low-mass stars in the region appeared much stronger than current models could explain.”

continue article

[innervoiceartblog]

The Beehive Cluster over the Great Herdsman, Glencoe.

Scotland's most famous mountain - Buachaille Etive Mòr is iconic for a reason. Viewed from the A82 road on the way past it looks incredible, and even more so if summited - with amazing views over the flat, vast Rannoch Moor that lies off to the East.

The Beehive Cluster is an open star cluster in the constellation Cancer. One of the nearest open clusters to Earth, it contains a larger population of stars than other nearby bright open clusters holding around 1,000 stars. Under dark skies, the Beehive Cluster looks like a small nebulous object to the naked eye, (a little fuzzy patch of light) and has been known since ancient times. It was among the first objects that Galileo studied with his telescope.

This looks quite beautiful and serene but I was well aware how dangerous the scene was. At this area there is a huge bog which had partially frozen in areas as the temperature dipped to a cool minus 7 celsius. In the pitch black with my feet sliding about next to water and rocks is always something that makes you work much slower and deliberately.

- Steven Robinson

[kariachi]

I managed a little fic! Pokemon stuff, just a dude and his grandkid and his pokemon.

~~

“Papou?”

“It’s fine, kiddo, vespiquen won’t let me fall. Will you, old girl?” Vespiquen buzzed and chirped a negative, not that it stopped her circling him on his way up the ladder. Even with little Asya worried at the edge of the grove, safeguarded by venomoth, Klaudio couldn’t help but laugh as the beehive pokemon stopped to hover as he settled into place at the top. He took the time to hang the gathering bucket over his target branch, but no more before he set to scratching at her faded crest.

Retirement looked good on her. It looked good on all of them.

Humming, he pulled the knife from his belt and set to work carefully cutting away the comb from the tree. Each cell could hold up to a jar’s worth of honey, and to accidentally put a hole in one when he was just trying to separate them from the branch and each other… Well, it wouldn’t be a disaster, but it would be annoying. Each cell and cluster was placed gently in the bucket, stacked as neatly as possible, until the branch was as clear as he could get it. That was one of… well, he didn’t know how many.

He was going to spend that weekend at least going around the whole grove, he knew that much. There was plenty of comb stored away in safe and secure locations, but near as much had been built on the outer bark of trees, along branches, nestled among shrubs and inside trees that were just as likely as not to collapse over winter, all as the combee tried to hoard as much as they could. If this had been a wild hive this would have been a double-edged sword- all that excess honey would have attracted countless thieves during the depths of winter to be driven off, but also would act as a safety net in case spring came late, something happened to the hive’s vespiquen, the weather turned truly nasty. For a kept hive, where trainers took the place of that safety net, it would only cause them more stress and trouble over the coming months.

Even if he hadn’t had a market and bills to pay, he would have been out there every year, clearing things out to a level the hive could manage.

With the branch more or less clean, Klaudio set his knife aside and slowly worked his way down the ladder, old joints creaking as he went. Maybe, just maybe, his Niki was right about getting somebody younger to help out. Maybe. As it stood vespiquen followed him back to the ground, continuing to hover as he untied the rope holding the bucket and slowly lowered it to the ground. Thing had to be an easy fifteen or more pounds of honey and wax, and he was glad to have kept up his exercise as he hauled it back to the truck and his granddaughter.

“See,” he asked her, grinning broadly as he dropped the bucket in the back and watched her look it over in childish curiosity. “Perfectly alright.”

[doomanddead]

Skellig Explores the Edge of Existence

I’ll let you in on a little secret: I’m dead. I collapsed ten years ago. Momentum has carried my lifeless body forward, but entropy will eventually have its way. 

Ghosthood can be isolating. So many joys of the living are out of reach. Touch and taste may be long gone, but music still holds sway over my incorporeal form. For a specter perched on a jagged rock in the middle of the abyss, plodding riffs and endless drones are the only things that move my listless spirit. 

That’s where Skellig’s new album comes in. Resonance of Our Dolmen is a beautifully carved slab of doomgaze. This instrumental solo project is sparse without being simple — minimal but wholly complete. 

I don’t usually hang out with breathers, but I could make an exception if there’s some gnarly fucking doom on the agenda. Join me on this remote outcropping and we can both take in the drone at the edge of eternity. 

The album opens on Supplication at Dawn’s Egress. You know you’re in for a treat when a track starts out heavy and gets HEAVIER. The riff trudges forward, grim but insistent. We slog through an endless waste, haunted by cumbrous riffs and melancholy scuzz. 

Under the Pall of an Obsidian Sky chugs us through desolate terrain thick with distortion. The fuzz recedes in a moment of clarity as we approach the bridge. The central riff glitters like snow on the charred remains of a burned out trestle. Just as we reach the other side of the crevasse, the fuzz rolls back in and the landscape is once again obscured.

Between Breaths makes for a pleasantly proggy palate cleanser. The clean, layered ditty revolves, hypnotizing the listener like a spinning top. 

Consequence is for What Remains is a looming megalith, ominous and unknowable. As the song burrows deeper, a vast and terrifying structure is exposed. The track is unyielding and oppressive but resonates with an arcane power that’s impossible to ignore. We may not have unearthed the beast, but we must bear the repercussions for awakening it.  

Resonance of Our Dolmen is the capstone of the album. Monotonous strumming sculpts a hefty drone.  A cluster of beehive huts shiver alone in the wasteland. Labored melodies haunt the barren expanse. This is 9 minutes and 50 seconds of intense instrumentals with an onerous ringing tone. Skellig finds rapture here at the brink of oblivion. 

This album is a study of contrasts. Minimal moments stand luminous against organized chaos. It’s melodious sludge, as atmospheric as it is weighty. Skellig summons listeners to the “threshold of totality.” If you spare a thought for the departed you may just find me there.

[quiltofstars]

The Little Beehive Cluster, M41 // Spencer Collins

Located just south of the bright star Sirius (α Canis Majoris), the Little Beehive Cluster was perhaps known to Aristotle, but most accounts credit its discovery to Hodierna before 1654. It contains around 100 stars at an age of about 190 million years old.

[casspurrjoybell-25]

The Healer of Shakkara -

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter 23 - Snowstorm - Part 1

Galen ducked his head against the freezing wind and struggled to hear the others' shouts above the gale.

"This way," Sev yelled, tugging on his hand.

"We will shelter by the rocks."

They had passed a large outcrop of stone right before they chose a place to camp.

"Good idea," Rea shouted in reply.

"They'll have stored some heat from the day and should keep the snow off for a while."

"Everyone gather whatever fuel you can. We'll need to get a fire going," Sev hollered and Galen slipped his hand free and dropped back a bit to help Behn scoop up armloads of the firewood they'd already collected.

Laden with their burdens, they followed the others as the icy wind stung their ears.

Within minutes, the few flakes had increased and fell so thickly they could hardly see more than a few yards ahead through the swirling sheets of white.

"Damn it," Sev swore loudly several minutes later.

"We've gone too far east. We need to double back."

"Sev, we're losing light fast," Obi warned.

"I know. Stay calm."

They turned back, retracing footsteps that were already vanishing beneath thickly falling snow.

Galen shivered.

He'd been wondering what they would do when they reached the mountains.

Their clothes and blankets were warm enough for most weather but from Harrald's tales he knew the snow was another matter.

Despite the warmth of exertion, he already felt the bite of cold through his clothes, cold never seemed to bother Thrynians like Triss and Behn but Galen hated winter.

Moreover, despite the rush of triumph he'd felt after healing Obi's hand, he couldn't deny it had left him drained.

He wasn't sure how much trudging through blizzards he was up for.

Meanwhile, Obi was right.

The light was fading, dimming from pale gray to blue and within an hour would be gone entirely.

Then, if they did not have a fire and with the moon and stars behind thick clouds, they would be as blind as Zenír and in all likelihood they would freeze to death long before dawn.

"There it is," Triss yelled, pointing ahead to a dark shape just visible through the snowy gloom.

"The rocks."

Galen's heart lifted as Rea gave a whoop of excitement.

Obi chimed in but Sev remained silent and as they approached and the shape resolved itself, their hopes dimmed.

It was an outcrop of rocks but not the ones Sev had in mind.

Those were a jumble of upthrust slabs, some of which leaned together or canted at angles that would have made good shelter... these were little more than a cluster of rounded boulders.

Still, the largest was the size of a small shed and offered at least some measure of protection from the wind.

"We must make do," he said, as they all huddled against its leeward side, heads close together.

"We can't risk getting even more lost and being left with no shelter at all."

He picked up a stone the size of a loaf of bread, with flattened surfaces.

"Look around for more rocks like this but don't stray beyond sight of one another."

Without question, everyone obeyed and soon they had a pile of such stones.

Then Obi and Rea began laying them in a half circle, with the boulder forming its flat side, building a firepit with high, curved walls, like a beehive with the top cut off.

To everyone's great relief, they soon had a fire going strong and while the wind still licked at the flames, it burned steady and bright.

"We must conserve our fuel," Sev warned.

"And as soon as we are able we must gather more. The first snow will have left everything wet and it will need to dry before it burns."

"Agreed," Rea said.

"What we've gathered should last us through the night but barely and while we may not freeze, neither shall we be particularly warm."

"We must hope the snow stops and the clouds lift by morning," said Sev.

"If we are fortunate, the storm will depart as quickly as it came."

No one said so but Galen suspected they were all thinking something similar... they had not been particularly fortunate... so far.

They sat in a semi-circle around the firepit, with their bedrolls around their shoulders and their backs to the cold.

Rea and Obi had left gaps between the stones, letting the heat escape while keeping the wind out but the heat felt weak compared to the chill of the driving snow.

Despite the fire and the warmth of Sev and Behn on either side of him, Galen soon shivered uncontrollably.

"Come here," Sev said, as Galen shook so hard his teeth chattered.

"Sit in my lap."

"W-W-What?" Galen stammered, sure he had not heard the man right.

Sev reached an arm around him and pulled him closer, shifting so Galen sat with his back to Sev's chest.

"It's a survival technique. Our bodies produce warmth... why waste it? The rest of you do the same," he added to the group at large.

"Pair up."

"We're oddly numbered," Rea remarked.

"We can rotate with Zen," Obi said.

"I've got a better idea," to Galen's surprise, this last came from Behn.

"I might not be good for much but I'm good at keeping warm. I'm hardly ever cold... even now. And I'm big. Triss and Rea can sit with me and I'm happy to stay on the outside."

"Keeping two girls warm at once, eh?" Triss teased, even as she moved to sit in front of him.

"There's something to brag about."

"Shut up, Triss," Behn grumbled.

"Besides, this is probably the closest to any girl I'll ever get."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that," Rea said, winking at Triss as she leaned back against Behn's other shoulder.

"I bet you have a sweetheart at home."

Even in the firelight's dim glow, Galen saw Behn's round cheeks, less round than they were some weeks ago, flush red.

"I don't," he mumbled.

"Oh? Are you a 'man's man' then, like Sev?"

"N-No," Behn exclaimed.

"I like... I mean... I like girls."

"Ah... well, don't go getting too warm on us, then."

"Rea, enough," Sev chided.

"He's only a boy."

"That's not stopping you, is it, Omalan Sevhalim," she said, with something almost like a sneer.

At his back, Galen felt Sev stiffen and he spoke just to break the sudden and unexpected tension in the air.

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"'Omalan' that is. Obi called you that before."

Sev relaxed.

"It means 'honored' or 'most dutiful.' It's a title among Hands."

"Hands who have taken certain vows," Rea added pointedly.

In a voice Galen hadn't heard before, Sev said...

"I am well aware of my vows, Sei Re'annith. Perhaps you ought to mind your own."

Galen held his breath, seeing his uncertainty mirrored in Triss and Behn.

The sudden tension seemed to come out of nowhere and nothing like it had surfaced on the journey so far.

Sev and Rea continued to stare at one another but after a moment, Rea looked away first.

"Forgive me. I think the strain of travel has affected me," she said.

Sev huffed an incredulous laugh.

"The 'strain of travel?' We've lost a friend, Rea. And we're allowed to lose our tempers, now and then."

She shook her head.

"No. We're not. We're supposed to be above that."

A hard edge returned to Sev's voice.

"Not above, Rea. Apart. There's a difference. Now enough talk. Everyone sleep or at least rest, if you can. We will rotate a watch for the fire."

[godchoice1]

Dive into the Different Varieties of Organic Raw Honey

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From the robust Mustard Flower Creamy Honey to the delicate notes of Lychee Flower Honey, our offerings cater to every palate.

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Delight your senses with the following varieties and the interesting tale behind each honey variety:

🍯 Mustard Flower Creamy Honey

The making of mustard flower honey begins in the winter season, typically in December and January, when mustard flowers (sarso) start to bloom abundantly. During this period, our nomadic beekeepers strategically place beehives near mustard farms and patiently wait for the bees to collect nectar from the blossoming flowers. The bees then transform this nectar into honey within the honeycomb. As a result, the honey acquires the distinctive properties and flavor of the mustard flowers.

🍯 Eucalyptus Flower Honey

Clusters of small, spikey, delicate flowers beloved by bees blossom in late spring and summer seasons. Beehives are strategically placed within eucalyptus plantations to allow bees to collect nectar and produce honey. The distinctive flavor of eucalyptus in this honey is entirely natural, with no added extracts or flavors, ensuring that the honey retains all the benefits of the eucalyptus flowers.

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[activatebutterflyshield]

Day and WIP number two! This was a response to one of @/writing-prompt-s’ writing prompts, but I’ve lost the original post. I’ll add a link if I find it again.

-

Responsibilities

-

“House meeting!”

The words echo in the bathroom, and Reginald Gardener winces. It’s not his fault that albinism was punished in the past by being drowned in the bath by his wife. He melancholically drifted out of the tub and down the stairs.

“House meeting!”

The words bounce around the bedroom, and Abadzel covers her ears with her wings. Though she learned modern English over the seventy-five odd years she resided in this house, the harsh syllables still got to her sometimes. She crawled out from under the bed, stretching out her legs before clomping down to the living room.

“House meeting!”

The words ring out into the garden, sending Dahlia and Bramble and Bluejay and Robin and Maple and Redwood Flagstone into a sudden scramble. They raced out from under the porch, swiftly kicking off their shoes and running inside the house.

Richard Jean-Pierre stood, hands on his hips, as he looked over his roommates. Reginald gloomily lurked by the upright piano, Abadzel was looking at her cloven hooves shyly from in front of the fireplace, and the Flagstone family were clustered on the coffee table.

Richard sighed.

“Look, guys. I know you aren’t used to people knowing about you, or being in the 21st century, but you’ve got to pitch in on the rent somehow.”

The gnomes nodded along eagerly, and Abadzel grunted some form of assent, but Reginald just cocked his head without even looking at Richard.

“What’s rent?”

Richard sighed again.

“Reggie, don’t play dumb. Rent existed in 1658.”

The ghost sighed, crossing his arms in their tattered shirtsleeves, and finally turned to Richard.

“Fine. But what do you want us to do?” He asked in a hissing rasp that sounded like water barely flowing through clogged pipes.

Richard threw his hands up.

“Mate, you’re the freeloader here. You all are. Now, all of y’all need to find some way of putting two hundred dollars on the table by next Friday or we’re all toast. I won’t make you pay the other bills, since none of you seem to use the electricity or heat or water, but you live here, so you’ve gotta pay rent.”

The Flagstones nodded enthusiastically again, before quickly running out the back door. Abadzel nodded too, before clomping back up the stairs. Reginald just disappeared.

Richard sighed again.

-

The next few days were normal, or what normal had become for Richard at home. He woke up in the morning to Abadzel’s sated snores after she had eaten his dreams again, he saw Reginald sulking in the bathroom mirror, and the Flagstone family’s muddy footprints cris-crossed the driveway. As normal. He returned in the evening to Reginald weeping on the toilet, Abadzel crunching on some poor rat’s bones, and the Flagstones napping in the tulips. As normal.

But things started to change.

It started with the garden.

The old brick planter, once filled with nothing but nettles and ants, was suddenly covered in little wooden signs and filled with new, dark soil. Though it was empty the morning Richard noticed the change, by the afternoon, the tops of carrots were peaking out of the soil, and red strawberries gleamed in the sunlight. A cherry tree now sprouted from the earth, alongside a blueberry bush and grapevines on a trellis. The next day, a beehive came to occupy one corner of the yard, and a chicken coop was put up in the other, clucking with fluffy hens. Richard, thoroughly surprised by the change, knocked on the Flagstone’s corner of the porch.

Dahlia poked her head out, her usually pristine braids dirtied and messy.

“Oh, hello, Jean-Pierre! Do you like what we’ve done with the garden?”

“Well, yes, I do like it, Dahlia, but… why?”

The diminutive lady looked puzzled. “What do you mean, why?”

“Well, I get that you like to garden, but why fix it up now?”

She blushed. “Well, Jean-Pierre, you said that we must pitch in on the rent of the house, and we have no other skills, so the family decided to sell the fruits of our labor! And the vegetables, and eggs and honey eventually.”

Surprise crossed Richard’s face. “But how will you sell them?”

Mrs. Flagstone smiled. “Don’t worry, Jean-Pierre. We’ll manage.”

The garden seemed to grow supernaturally quick, as every plant bore fruit daily. Even the chickens and bees seemed to produce as much product in a day that ordinary animals would have in a week.

-

A few days after the garden was remodeled, Richard awoke at 3 am to Abadzel gently tugging on his hand with her own clawed fingers. He stumbled out of bed, putting on his glasses to see the demon nervously tapping her hooves.

“Wuzzhappenin, Abad?” Richard sleepily droned.

Abadzel seemed to blush, if the coloration on her cheeks wasn’t dried rat blood, and if goats, or maybe dragons, could blush at all. “Well, sir, thou dost said that we, uhm, freeloaders, needed to contribute to the paying of rent. And, well, though I am not human-looking, as thou dost know, I do know many things, and Missus Flagstone the Elder doth tell me that she doth need help using technology to sell her and her brood’s products. And, well sir, I thought that I may facilitate the selling of the products in question, sir, through the use of thine computer. And so I did register Mister Reginald Gardener the Third, in place of Missus Flagstone the Elder, at the farmer’s market that doth happen every Sabbath-Day, for the purpose of selling fruits and vegetables and eggs of chickens and sweet honey of bees. I do hope that thou art not angry with me, sir.”

The long and stammering explanation the demon gave was enough to wake Richard up, especially when she got to the part where Reginald would be selling fruit.

“What? Like, actually what? Reggie’s selling fruit?”

Abadzel blushed again, self-consciously wrapping her wings around herself. “Well, yes. Reginald Gardener the Third hast been registered to sell fruits and vegetables an—“

“Stop, Abad, I get it,” Richard said, cutting her off, “It’s just, well, this is a lot for 3 am. Tell me more in the morning.”

He stumbled back under his covers, and Abadzel followed, returning to under the bed.

-

Luckily, the next day was a Saturday. Unluckily, Richard didn’t wake up to Abadzel’s gentle tug, but rather to Reginald shoving a cold hand into his forehead.

“Get up, Frenchman. Abad won’t get up until you do. So make like a farmer and wake with the cock’s crow.”

[xtruss]

The Andromeda constellation, also known as the Chained Maiden, is seen over the El Capitan vertical rock formation in Yosemite National Park in California. To the surprise of many people, it can be spotted with the naked eye on a clear night from August through February. Photograph By Babak Tafreshi, National Geographic Image Collection

5 Famous Constellations That (Almost) Anyone Can Find

From Andromeda to Ursa Major, these cosmic landmarks dominate the sky. Learning how to spot them will turn you into a star gazer.

— By National Geographic Staff | August 23, 2023

The night sky is so vast; where do you start? Finding your way through the sky begins with a few dominant constellations, containing everything from star clusters and nebulae to obscure galaxies. If you keep looking upward, you’ll see these five constellations parade throughout the sky and through the seasons.

1). Andromeda (The Chained Maiden)

Andromeda, the Chained Maiden constellation, can be seen from August through February. This large constellation in the northern sky is conspicuous thanks to its attachment to the neighboring constellation Pegasus and that constellation’s Great Square asterism. The brightest star, Alpheratz, which represents the head of the maiden, happens to be shared with Pegasus. This blue giant star lies 97 light-years from Earth and shines 200 times brighter than our sun. Four main stars of Andromeda form a curved line toward the east, with Mirach representing her hips and Almach her chained foot. Although Mirach is nearly identical in brightness to Alpheratz, it is a larger red giant 197 light-years away.

Although Andromeda is considered a northern constellation, most of its stars can be glimpsed from the Southern Hemisphere, but always near the horizon, making it a bit trickier to observe its famous deep-sky objects. The most celebrated of these is the grand spiral called the Andromeda galaxy, or Messier 31. This, the closest large galaxy to our Milky Way, lies 2.5 million light- years away. To the surprise of many people, it can be spotted with the naked eye from a typical suburban backyard on a clear autumn night. It represents one of the farthest objects the unaided human eye can see in the universe.

2). Canis Major (The Great Dog)

To locate Canis Major, also known as the Great Dog, look for the brightest star in the sky, Sirius, which is seen here above Alqueva Dark Sky Reserve in Portugal. Sirius is actually Canis Major’s sparkling eye. Photograph By Babak Tafreshi, National Geographic Image Collection

Canis Major is the larger of the two faithful hunting dog companions to Orion, the Hunter (explained below.) Standing by the Hunter’s foot, the Great Dog is an easy-to-find constellation visible from most areas of the world, thanks to being positioned just south of the celestial equator. Canis Major’s sparkling eye is the brightest star in the sky: Sirius.

The dog days of summer were named specifically for the Dog Star. In the Northern Hemisphere, ancient sky-watchers noticed the intensely bright star would rise and set with the sun. The combined power of the two suns was thought to be the cause of the stretch of hot weather experienced in late summer.

For binoculars and telescopes, Canis Major is rich in star clusters. Leading the pack is the beautiful open cluster M41, also known as the Little Beehive, which lies only four degrees south of Sirius. Containing some 80 stars, this fourth-magnitude cluster is 2,300 light-years away, yet is visible as a hazy patch to the naked eye on a dark night. It is an impressive sight through a backyard telescope, with orange stars scattered within.

3). Orion (The Hunter)

Orion, the Hunter, is seen just above the tree line by Mammoth Lakes in California. One of the oldest constellation figures, many stories are attached to Orion, a great hunter in Greco-Roman myths. Photograph By Babak Tafreshi, National Geographic Image Collection

Visible across the world, Orion is one of the most identifiable as well as one of the oldest constellation figures, crossing cultures and thousands of years. Orion straddles the celestial equator, so it is well known to observers in both the Northern and Southern Hemispheres and holds the record for containing the most bright stars in one stellar pattern.

Many stories are attached to Orion, a great hunter in Greco-Roman myths. The most famous says that he was stung by a scorpion (Scorpius) in an epic battle, which is why the two figures have been placed in opposite parts of the sky. Orion boasts two first-magnitude stars, with Betelgeuse marking the shoulder to the viewer’s left and Rigel his foot on the right. Sitting between Rigel and Betelgeuse is Orion’s stellar line of three stars, Alnitak, Alnilam, and Mintaka, marking the Hunter’s belt.

Orion includes an area of the Milky Way that features intense star production. Beneath the Hunter’s belt, in the middle of three stars that form Orion’s sword, is the Orion Nebula (M42). Visible to the naked eye as a fuzzy, faint patch, in backyard telescopes delicate wreathlike structures show where star formation is taking place at a furious pace.

4). Crux (The Southern Cross)

Crux, also known as the Southern Cross, can be found just above the silhouette of an acacia tree in Amboseli National Park in Kenya. Its distinctive cross asterism is marked simply by four bright stars. Photograph By Babak Tafreshi, National Geographic Image Collection

One of the most famous of all southern constellations, Crux is the smallest constellation in the sky, yet it is among the most recognizable. Its distinctive cross asterism is marked simply by four bright stars. In ancient times before Earth’s precession shifted the stars toward the south, the stars of Crux were visible from Europe. But it wasn’t until the 17th century, when European navigators sailing south recognized the cross-like pattern, that Crux became its own official constellation. While best explored from south of the Equator, keen-eyed sky-watchers as far north as the southern tip of Florida can glimpse the Southern Cross.

Crux straddles a rich section of the southern Milky Way band and so is filled with deep-sky treasures of all kinds. Just east of Crux lies what appears to be a hole in the sky—a dark region devoid of stars known as the Coalsack Nebula. It is clearly visible to the naked eye as a strikingly large, dark gas cloud silhouetted against a bright star-studded Milky Way.

5). Ursa Major (The Great Bear)

Ursula Major, which includes the Big Dipper, is seen framed by the top of the entrance to Roodafshan Cave in Iran. Also known as the Great Bear, the Big Dipper in this constellation represents the bear’s rear torso and tail, with the other stars of the constellation mapping out its long nose and legs. Photograph By Babak Tafreshi, National Geographic Image Collection

Ursa Major, also known as the Great Bear, is one of the most prominent northern constellations, and its main claim to fame is that it contains the Big Dipper, a highly recognizable asterism. The easily identifiable Big Dipper represents the bear’s rear torso and tail, with the other stars of the constellation mapping out its long nose and legs. For most observers in the Northern Hemisphere, the Great Bear is close enough to the north celestial pole that it never sets below the horizon, and it rotates around the North Star once a day.

While to the ancient Greeks this stellar group represented a large bear, other cultures saw everything from a chariot to a horse and wagon, a team of oxen, and a hippopotamus (by Egyptians, who had likely never seen a bear). Some Native American tribes believe the cup of the dipper represents a bear and the stars in the handle represent warriors who pursue it.

Finally, remember that you will get your best viewing on moonless nights away from brightly lit areas. Give your eyes time to adjust to the darkness—and good hunting!