#on a walk through botanical gardens or the forest

[littleplantfreak]

Umemiya does that thing where he plants a tree when his kids are born so it grows with them. Chooses the type carefully so it has meaning, and even when they’re babies he takes them out every so often and tells them that’s their tree and looking at how they’re both growing makes him teary eyed

[asumofwords]

The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Angst.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Oh lordy, we all need a friend like Helaena don't we? She is just such a sweet angel. Here is the next chapter, hehe. Enjoy <3

Chapter 12: The Red Keep

The flight to the Red Keep was quick, and you had been almost horrified when the driver had driven you onto the tarmac at the airport and up to a small jet. Your eyes had widened, and the driver had to insist on you getting out of the car and into the private plane. 

You had sent Helaena some nervous texts, promising to pay her back, feeling guilty about how much it would have cost, to which she had replied that it was Viserys’ money and he had plenty of it.

It did little to quell the guilt that built within you, but you thanked her profusely in the air anyway, wifi available on the flight. 

It felt weird to be surrounded by sudden wealth, Helaena never usually opting to use it and making her own way in life. If this was what she had at her fingertips, you wondered why she didn’t use the convenience of it more often. 

But then again, you grew up with no money, and she didn’t. This could be as mundane as a bus trip to her.

The flight would have been barely over an hour long, and when you had landed, you were met by a sleek black Mercedes on the small and private landing strip amongst rolling green hills. 

Criston Cole sat in the driver seat, a tanned man with dark curly hair and darker brown eyes, dressed head to toe in a black uniform, greeting you politely by your last name as he took your bag for you, putting it in the boot swiftly before opening the door for you to get in.

The Keep was situated outside of the city, a large estate on many acres of land, surrounded by sea, rolling green hills and forests. It was a historical site that had been passed down through the Targaryen family for hundreds of years, with almost a hundred rooms within to match. They even had their own private botanical garden with the rarest of plants within, that housed one of the oldest trees in Westeros.

It was extravagant, and you felt a sudden sense of anxiety as you drove up a long and winding path, large gates opening automatically as you jiggled your leg in your seat. The Keep towered atop a hill, red brick work looking like they had been soaked in blood in the dark of the night as the car rolled up, headlights shining at two large wooden doors to the entrance. 

Helaena was standing in the spotlight, large slippers on her feet and oversized lavender sleep shirt sliding off of one shoulder. When you jumped out of the car she let you walk to her quickly, throwing yourself into her arms as she held you, soothing your back as tears threatened to fall once more, apologising meekly into her neck.

“Shhh,” She cooed, gentle fingers running along your spine, “You’ve done nothing wrong. I could never be mad at you.”

“But I-“

“-I’m mad at my brother. Not you. Let’s get some sleep, hm?”

You let Helaena drag you up through the Keep, Criston following closely behind with your bag. You had tried to turn and take it from him, but he had given you a stern glare with his handsome face, insisting he carry it for you.

The walls of the Targaryen’s Keep were tall and made of stone, various portraits of Targaryen ancestors strung on the walls, and tapestries of art from across the years and realms hanging delicately for decor. You couldn’t help but notice some newer editions to the Keep, heavy green works and sigils of the Seven Pointed Star that almost outnumbered the Valyrian traditions.

When you reached Helaena’s room, it was larger than your entire apartment. It had four poster bed with draped lavender and cream curtains in the centre, and its own sitting room. A writing desk was pushed into the corner on a far wall near a large stone fireplace. She guided you to sit on the bed, taking your bag from Criston before she thanked him and dismissed him for the night.

“I’m sorry-“

“Shh.” Helaena’s voice came out sharper, “Go to sleep, bug. I don’t want to hear another apology from you, okay?”

The way she spoke reminded you so much of Aemond. 

You nodded sadly, and pulled back the sheets, crawling beneath before Helaena joined you, turning the lights off as she settled against her pillow. She let you cry beside her, and stroked a soothing hand up and down your arm. 

Eventually the both of you fell to sleep, too exhausted to stay awake or cry any longer.

When you woke the next morning, it was to light streaming into the room from Helaena’s sheer curtains, the bright suns rays warming the room already. You stirred, looking beside you to find Helaena already awake and on her phone.

She turned her head to look at you, scrunching her nose, “You snore.”

Your mouth gaped, “I do not.” You blushed, feeling embarrassed.

Helaena hummed cheekily, before her face turned more serious, “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” You grumbled, tummy aching as you remembered your forgotten noodles uneaten and left behind in your room.

An uneasy quiet settled around you as she watched your face, phone set flat against her chest as she took you in. Her lilac eyes bored into your own, and you fought the urge to not wriggle in the spot.

“Do you love him?” Helaena asked abruptly and you felt your mouth turn dry.

Love him?

Did you?

It was too soon to tell.

But there was no denying there was something powerful that you felt for her brother.

“I don’t know.” You said quietly, and Helaena looked at you as if she knew the answer herself. 

The silver haired woman shifted in the bed, sitting up before she ripped the sheets away from you, “Right. No more moping. You had one night and one night only for the sad girl special.”

You looked at her incredulously.

“Hel, what the Hell?”

“You hungry?” She ignored your comment, crawling out of bed, stretching high on her toes to stretch her spine, long arms in the air.

Helaena was giving you an out.

A distraction.

And so you took it.

“Starved.” You chirped back, though the tone fell flatter than you intended.

Helaena turned around and lifted a brow at you, “Come on, let’s go eat before the boys demolish everything in sight.”

You nodded in agreement, going to stand before you followed her down to a large open kitchen at the bottom, back doors opening up to a grassy garden which led to a tiled area with chairs and tables littered here and there. A creamy white gazebo was seen a few ways away, and the sitting area bled into a large swimming pool, spa nestled beside it.

“Woah.”

Helaena, noticing your eye line scoffed, “I know right? Talk about gaudy. Mum had the pool upgraded. Not that she needed too. It’s only her, and she doesn’t even use it.”

Two chefs moved about the kitchen quickly, large island in the centre being gradually filled with food of all kinds. Pastries, meats, breads, fruits, eggs. It was almost a buffet style.

You felt strangely out of place. 

“Morning.” Helaena greeted the two chefs, to which they turned and nodded 'morning' back to her. Her face met yours and she grimaced.

You were glad she felt just as uneasy as you. 

At least you had each other. 

You grabbed a plate, following Helaena and piled it full of food that you wanted to eat, asking your friend where you could make some tea. Hel pointed you to a kettle, and you felt grateful that you would be able to make your own tea for breakfast. Though there was a sting in knowing that a certain silver haired man hadn’t done it for you.

“Good morning, girls.” A voice chirped from behind you, and you turned to face the auburn haired woman you had come to know well.

“Morning mum.” Helaena returned, eyes not lifting from where she piled another pancake upon her already high stack.

Alicent Hightower stood in a green dress shirt, darker green blazer thrown over the top, matched with a pair of black slacks and heels. She wore a dark red lipstick and gold jewellery, nails matching her lips. 

You couldn’t help but notice a similarity between her and Alys, but shrugged it away.

“Y/n,” Her hands were held in front of her, “I’m so glad you could make it.”

Alicent stepped forward to kiss at the air beside both of your cheeks, a blush rising along your neck as you awkwardly and stiffly returned it. Her long curly hair was pulled back away from her face with a butterfly clip at the back of her head, and against her chest was a Seven Pointed Star.

You shook your head, “Thank you for having me. I’m sorry I-“

“-None of that.” She chastised in a motherly way, “You are always welcome here at any time.”

You wet your lips and nodded, “Thank you.”

“It has been a while since I saw you last. I trust you know your way around?”

“Kind of.”

“Not to worry, Helaena can make sure you don’t get lost.”

Helaena groaned, and Alicent shifted on her feet.

“I’m leaving for the day, have some work I need wrapped up.” 

Your lips parted, about to apologise for leaving your job on such short notice. 

A job at her firm no less.

She eyed your sudden shift and dismissed you, “No need to worry about this week, I have already informed Larys you are on carers leave for family business here.”

Carers leave?

But that was paid leave.

“Alicent I-“

Her look stopped you in your tracks. 

There was no arguing.

“Thank you.” You said again, feeling sheepish and all too overwhelmed with both her and Helaena’s generosity.

She nodded as though she approved of the way you had responded, as if it was the way that you should have responded, as though it was a response that had been written down in a book to be studied, ‘Duty to guests and hosts.’ 

Alicent Hightower stepped over to Helaena to kiss her cheek. You watched as her daughter shied away from it slightly, but allowed it nonetheless with a stiff spine. 

“Behave.” She warned her, before casting you one last smile, “If you need anything, let Criston know." And then she set off with a click of her heels.

Helaena rolled her eyes, grabbing her stack of pancakes as you finished making your tea. 

You both made your way outside to sit at a large table, eating your breakfast with hungry speed. It was a beautiful day. The sun shone warmly down on you, the sounds of birds was loud in the distant trees, and the softest of breezes rolled over your bare arms and legs.

“So, did you bring your swimmers?” Helaena asked, mouth full of pancakes.

You nodded in affirmation, “Uh huh.”

“Good,” She smiled, “We can claim the pool first if we hurry.”

“Claim? Hel, It's huge.”

She swallowed the chunk of pancake she had been chewing on, syrup on the corner of her lip that she licked off with a quick swipe of her tongue, “Yeah, and the boys have been having a pissing war with each other, calling dibs on the pool. It’s been driving me insane.”

You laughed softly, imaging Aegon and Daeron bickering amongst themselves, “Is Jace and Luc here yet?”

Helaena smiled, “Yeah, and they’re the worst of all.” She snickered, “Can’t know a moment of peace with those two. They’re so chatty. Not that Aegon helps. Daeron is more observing than usual which is nice.”

You were excited at the prospect of seeing Luc and Jace again, but you worried that the news of your arrival, the reasoning behind it would only cause more family rifts than there already were. 

“Don’t worry," Helaena began, her sixth sense picking up on your sudden quiet, “I won’t tell anyone what’s happened, okay?”

You nodded, “Okay.”

Helaena swiped a finger through the syrup on her plate. How she managed to inhale all seven pancakes in one sitting amazed you. She brought the sticky digit to her lips which she sucked clean.

“Let’s get changed and have a pool day!” She beamed, and her excitement rubbed onto you. 

-

You laid in the sun for hours side by side, intermittently jumping into the pool to cool off. 

Helaena told you about how her dad was doing, and from the sound of it, they expected him to pass any day now, which made you feel selfish in having intruded on their pre-mourning. But Helaena had shrugged, and told you that he had been sick for a very long time, most had already mourned his loss despite him still being there. It was a waiting game. And each morning they waited with bated breath to see if he would rise from his sleep.

It was brutal, but honest. 

Warmth spread over your body as you laid on your back in a pool chair, the heat of the sun almost pulling you into a nap from how comforting it was. It was nice to not be at work, and to be away from your apartment. To have a moment of respite and relaxation.

A shadow crossed over your body, and you frowned. 

Damn cloud.

“Boo.” 

You shrieked, jumping up from where you lay, eyes wide and darting up to a short silver head of hair, wild smile on his lips. 

Aegon.

“Egg, you prick.” Helaena groused, turning onto her side to look up at her brother, book long forgotten and large floppy hat tilted sideways on her head.

You sat up higher in the chair, looking up at Aegon as he smiled down at you, “Miss me?” He teased, waggling his brows at you.

You pulled a face. 

He was in his swim shorts and nothing else. 

Aegon was wider, stockier, and shorter than Aemond or the other siblings, who seemed to be made of long, graceful limbs. And Aegon was anything but graceful. His face was softer too, looking much more Alicent than any of them did. 

Aemond was the outlier with his sharp jaw and nose.

“Like a hole in the head.” You teased back, standing to hug him tightly. 

His embrace was warm, snug, and not at all as flirtatious as it once had been. 

“Enjoying the Palace goodies?”

“Go away.” Helaena whined, falling back onto her back, long groan pushed out of her chest. 

“Am I not allowed to say hello to our guest?”

“You’ve said hello. Now say goodbye. It’s our pool today.”

Aegon mock gasped, and you had to chew your cheek to not laugh, “What would mother dearest say? ‘Sharing is caring, Helaena.’”

The silver haired woman huffed, “You share a bit too much…” She grumbled quietly.

“What was that?”

A slender hand lifted and presented a solitary finger in Aegon’s direction. 

His laugh was contagious. 

Aegon sat himself down in the chair beside you, catching up on the both of your lives, bar your recent escapades with his brother, and you learnt that Aegon was considering studying at Kings Landing University but was undecided on what he wanted to do.

You watched as he eventually pulled himself to stand, looking down at you, “You coming in?” He asked, hand held out to you in invitation. 

“Nah, not yet. In a minute though.”

“Lame.”

Aegon ran and jumped, diving, ungracefully, into the water with a large splash near the edge, though it was more like a belly flop with arms that bent downwards to enter the water first. Water splashed out of the pool and small droplets landed on you, where as a large splash crashed onto Helaena. 

“Ah!” She cried, “You fucking asshole!”

Aegon came up, tossing his wet hair away from his face with a laugh, smirk pulling on his lips as he came up to the edge slowly. There was no denying that he was handsome, white teeth peeking through soft pink lips.

Helaena sat upright, “No.” 

Aegon’s smirk only widened.

“Aegon, don’t you fucking dare.”

His violet gaze flicked to you and then back to his sister. 

His mind was made up. 

His arm crashed against the surface of the water, sending it flying at Helaena. 

It soaked her in her seat, frustrated growl falling from her lips as she stood, throwing her soggy hat to the side. 

Aegon’s smirk dropped. 

You couldn’t control your laughter, stomach clenching as you watched Helaena jump nearly on top of Aegon’s head as he tried to swim away from her, her hands slapping at him and pulling his hair childishly. 

“Okay, okay, okay!! Mercy!” He cried, finally throwing Helaena from his back and into the water again. 

She emerged with a scowl, wet hair slicked backwards, “Douchebag. You ruined my book.”

“Buy another.”

“Ugh.”

“Did you see mother this morning?” Aegon looked at you finally, swimming over to you as he watched you sit on the waters edge, legs dangling into the pool. 

You nodded. 

“Oh good.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “She was worried she wouldn’t catch you. The twins will be here soon.”

“Thank the Gods.” Helaena praised, “I need a break from you and the boys stench.”

Aegon frowned, “Who says we stink?”

Helaena dipped her head into the water, sucking some into her cheeks as she spat it at her brothers face, his hand coming to shield it poorly, “Me.”

Aegon turned to face you again, “Do you see how mean she is to me? How do you even stand her?”

You smirked, biting at your bottom lip, “I don’t know what your talking about.”

His eyes narrowed, “The Stranger will get you for your lies and deceit.”

You spent the rest of the day in the sun, Aegon settling beside the two of you, his presence clearly annoying his sister, but you acted as a buffer and indulged him in minor conversation. Daeron had joined you a while later, and you had hugged him tightly to you.

When the day grew long and you had spent more than enough time in the suns rays, Helaena took you back to her room and the ensuite joined to it, insisting you shower and get yourself ready for some dinner. 

You washed your hair, running shampoo through it to get the smell of chlorine out. Helaena jumped in straight after, talking to you as you began to put some light makeup on in the large mirror at the double sinked basin. 

This was something you had missed in her absence. Getting ready together, talking and chatting mindlessly, playing music as loud as possible as the both of you sang as loudly as you could. You didn’t know just how much you had missed her until that moment, and a wave of sadness crashed over you. 

She wasn’t the only person you missed. 

Your mind strayed to Aemond. You wondered what he was doing. How he was feeling. You wondered if Alys was back in your apartment now that you were gone. 

Did she stay the night?

Was she in his bed with him?

Did she-

“Oi. Cut it out.” Helaena’s voice broke you out of your revery. 

She was wrapped in her towel, cheeks flushed pink from the sun and hair dripping down her back. 

You smiled at her sheepishly, “Sorry.”

“If I hear you say sorry once more, I’ll drown you in the pool.”

You held your hands up in surrender as she came beside you at the mirror, pulling down her skin care to rub moisturiser into her face and body. 

“What are you wearing tonight?” She asked you, long pale finger rubbing circles into her cheek as her lilac eyes locked onto your face in the mirror.

“Dunno. Something casual?”

Helaena screwed the lid of her moisturiser back on before putting it in its spot on the shelf, “Hmm. No. Wear something nice. A cute dress. Tonight we are letting loose.”

You chuckled at her, brushing mascara over your eyelashes, “I don’t need to dress up to let loose.”

“No, but I’m not having you mope about. Got enough of that as is from my mother and Eggy. Dress up for me,” She turned to you, putting on her best puppy dog eyes, bottom lip sticking out, “Please.”

Shaking your head you snickered, “Fine. So needy.”

“Yes!”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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[sundew199]

All For You

tags: Fluff, reiner's pov, modern au, no specific p/n’s used

You had the roughest day yesterday, falling into his arms the second you stepped through the door, burying your face into his chest. It was a bit of a downer on his part, having planned a nice date night for the two of you but deciding what you needed was a night in, curled up on the couch and watching reruns of your favorite show. Reiner hated to see your spirit dampened, the glow from your face dimmed and somber from the actions of other people. He wanted to shield you from that, like a parent protecting the innocence of their child.

Even though he knew it would be best for you to quit your job or transfer to a different office, Reiner didn't want to put the pressure, you were an adult who could make their own decisions. That same night, while curled up in bed after nearly falling asleep on the couch, you quietly mention wanting to spend a day in nature, walk through sprawling gardens of flowers and sit in a thick forest of trees to clear your mind of everything weighing you down. That's where he got the idea to take you to the arboretum, buying tickets from his phone once he swore you were asleep.

He woke up earlier than usual the next morning, bringing you coffee in bed and shying away from your prying question, insisting he always does things like this for you, which wasn't a lie, Reiner's life might as well have been centered around you, his love and dedication driving him. And how could he not, you were his person, the other half of his heart and all things good, making it less of a challenge to fall more and more in love with you.

The morning was expectantly slow, curled up back in bed with you after taking a few sips of your coffee, head tucked under his chin and arms wrapped around his neck. He would've stayed like this all day, but there was somewhere the two of you had to be.

"Where are you going?" Hearing your whine that made him pulling away feel like a villain.

"To get dressed." Kissing the tip of your nose and watching your face turn to pondering.

"It's Saturday, our day off."

"Yea, but I'm taking you somewhere today."

A litany of question followed, eager to know where he was taking you, following him into the bathroom and into the closet. Gently he brushed them off, telling you the surprise would be ruined. That seemed to work, watching you turn giddy with excitement Time slowed as he tried to focus on getting dressed, distracted with watching you get ready, the detail you put into your appearance and just how much he loved the little things about you. And there were so many he could spend days listing them off to anyone who dared to listen.

He had your things ready to go by the front door, handing them off to you and interlacing his hand in yours for the short walk out the front door to the car. The drive was lengthy, but not horrible as Reiner got to listen to your ramblings, relieved the previous bad day at work had been overcome quickly by you.

A man at the gate scanned the tickets from his phone, directing him where to park. You were busy texting someone to notice where you'd arrive at, and Reiner was kind of glad, adding more sweetness to the surprise outing today.

"Where are we?" Asking as you walked beside him in the parking lot, hand in hand, swinging his arm back in forth with yours.

"The arboretum." Answering with a smile, swelling with adoration at your soft gasp and falter in your steps.

"You were listening?"

"When am I not?" Stopping to squeeze your hand and give a quick peck to your lips, hurrying you along so you could spend all the time you wanted in the botanical gardens. The woman who scanned the same tickets handed you each a brochure highlighting the different areas. The magnolia grove was first on your list, dragging Reiner along in excitement and him happily being dragged.

A canopy of trees shielded the paved path, familiar white blooming flowers with dark green leave blowing in the wind. Reiner hadn't noticed how sweet these flowers smelled, heavy with an odd trace of lemon that pulled him into memories of when you'd get home from work before him and was wiping down the kitchen counters. From the moment he talked to you before mustering up the courage to ask you on a date, he knew you loved flowers and not just bouquets to put in a vase, no you had a passion for the delicate beauty of nature.

Steps lingered in the grove, Reiner watching you take pictures of the trees from every angle, smiling from a distance and wondering how he got so lucky. You were pure, full of passion for the things that took your interest and unabashedly expressed your love for the things that caught your eye, Reiner just so happened to be one of them.

"I saw there was a Koi pond, let's go there next." Suddenly standing in front of him, concluding your photography session with the Magnolia trees.

The arboretum was expansive to the point it could take all day to explore every area, and he knew you would want to. The Koi pond was unfortunately on the other side of where the Magnolia grove was, with plenty of areas to stop by on the way to the pond.

"We can stop by the rose garden and butterfly greenhouse on the way to the pond, if you want." Suggesting, seeing you nod idly while looking over the brochure while walking down the paved path. You were focused on planning out your sightseeing, brows slightly pinched and lips pursed.

"Let's go." Grabbing his hands and picking up the pace in your steps, weaving in and out of the other people walking the other way, set on making it to where he had suggested.

Elegant roses of nearly every color filled the flower beds of the enchanting garden. There were people sitting in the eloquent spiraling benches, taking in the scenery or reading a book they had Brough for ambiance. Reiner felt entranced, never seeing roses look prettier than they already were, glancing in your direction to see you examining the flower. He came up behind you, softened when you looked back at him with a gleeful smile, like a little kid living out a fantasy and that stirred something in Reiner.

Seeing you happy made him swell in his chest already, but to see you guileless and almost innocent just reestablished how lucky he was. God he loved you, swore he loved you more than the average man loved their partner, with the way you always brought a genuine smile to his face at just a mere glance.

"I wish I could pick a few, maybe dry out some of the petals, press them into a journal." Saying to no one, but still catching Reiner's attention and having him look to see if there were any signs that instructed patrons to not pick the flowers.

Guiding you away, further from where majority of the people say on the benches, he did his best to look unsuspecting for what he planned to do. Confident both of you were out of view, Reiner bent down close to your ear.

"Which color?"

Your head snapped to look at him, almost immediately with how close you nearly collided with his face.

"What?" Whispering through your teeth in a hiss, not believing what you were hearing.

"Pick a color, hurry." Digging around in his pocket for the small pocket knife he carried, weighing his actions by moving this wallet to the opposite back pocket from where it was to ward off suspicious eyes, if there were any.

"Peach or the yellow red tipped one."

Giving a nod, bending down at the knees, balancing his weight of his feet, he slide the blade of the pocket knife right under where the flower bloomed, handing you the peach colored one first. The yellow red tipped one was in close proximity, repeating the method again and handing you the second one, flipping his knife closed and shoving it away.

It was a stroke of luck that it was slightly chilly enough for jackets to be worn, watching as you carefully placed two heads of roses into your inner jacket pocket, giggling when you casually took his hand to walk away.

"Thank you."

"All for you." Kissing your cheek as he pulled you by the hand into his side, headed towards the way you came into the rose garden.

[emilybeemartin]

Inktober Days 28-31

Day 28: Sparkle

When people ask me which national park I've worked in is my favorite, I have a diplomatic answer. They're all different! Yellowstone is never boring, Glacier is visually stunning. But Great Smoky Mountains? Great Smokies is home. It was my first park, even before Yellowstone--I was brought on as a summer intern in 2010, and it set the course for my whole career onward.

Where other national parks trade in dramatic grandeur, Great Smokies offers a more intimate beauty. The pale pops of Catawba rhododendron blossoms in the dark forest. The squiggle of a spotted salamander in dewy moss. The first flush of red on the autumn slopes. The Christmas-tree perfume of the balsam firs at high elevation. 

But some of the most special things to me are the fireflies. The secret of the synchronous fireflies has trickled out, and now people flock to see them in late spring, flashing in coordinated laser light shows. My absolute favorites are the blue ghost fireflies, which glow a moonlight-blue, without blinking, and drift a few feet above the ground. On a dark, quiet evening, it's the single most magical sight I've ever seen. So magical I built a whole fantasy system around them in my first novel, Woodwalker.

Day 29: Massive

There are so many parks whose scale simply can't be appreciated in photos. The yawning chasm of the Grand Canyon. The looming summits of Grand Teton. The plunging valleys of Glacier. And the massive span and height of sequoia trees.

Though this is a purely American tree, I've only experienced them abroad, when I lived in New Zealand. A short walk away from my student flat was a beautiful botanical garden, and I was amazed to find a grove of sequoias growing there. I greeted them like compatriots, foreigners in a faraway land. I visited them often and knew someday I needed to visit their cousins on their home turf. Like my fixation on Olympic National Park, I've frequently found myself plotting the drive from my Rocky Mountain jobs to the closest parks of sequoias and redwoods. I'll get there, one day.

Day 30: Rush

Yosemite—the rush of history toward the riches of the west, the rush of visitors in the valley, the rush of air through climbers’ ropes, the rush to protect endangered natural spaces. But to me, no homage to Yosemite is complete without rushing water. Plunging waterfalls, rivers foaming with spring melt, frigid banks piled with frazil ice--- this park sings with the power of water.

Day 31: Fire

We end Inktober 2023 in Hawai‛i Volcanoes National Park, a place where fire, earth, and water all meld together. At first I picked this park simply because it fit the prompt, but as I did some research, I realized how fitting it is to end this month-long celebration of national parks here. Built into the management policies for Hawai‛i Volcanoes is the practice of ho‛okupu, the action of creating growth through chanting or offerings. As Huihui Kanehele-Mossman, Kumu Hula and Executive Director at Edith Kanaka‛ole Foundation, puts it:

“[Ho‛okupu] is not showing gratitude… it’s a recognition between you and the place… that you are present there in order to have an exchange—an equal exchange between you and the place.”

As park rangers, we’re faced with tangible reminders of degradation every day—past, present, and future—in things like the violent history of land theft, the tenacious grip of invasive species, and the looming consequences of climate change. It’s easy for rangers to view both ourselves and the visiting public as interlopers and invaders, capable of only destruction, a force to be managed and mitigated.

But we’re not. That same force that enables us to destroy also enables us to restore, grow, and create. And as Robin Wall Kimmerer discusses in Braiding Sweetgrass, humans shouldn’t consider ourselves mere intruders in natural spaces. We evolved alongside nature. We do belong in it, and it relies on our power and gentleness as much as we rely on it.

Even beyond that, national parks are human-created spaces, with human boundaries, roads, infrastructure, and patterns. We have to be involved with them. We have to view ourselves as an integral part of their wellbeing, an equal partner, and a force for good, or we risk losing them to sheer indifference.

“If you don’t have anything else to give to a place, give your voice.”

-Huihui Kanehele-Mossman

Thanks for traveling along with me on this journey through our national parks! I hope you have an autumn full of peace and purpose!

[wullfric]

Anyways uhhh... trip review! Yay yippee hurray etc!

What we did: We went to the botanical garden using one of those fancy two floor buses. Everyone fell victim to the novelty of it and went to the second floor, except for me and five other people. This made the ride feel pretty chill because there was not much noise and I got two seats all for myself.

When we got there we were given some time to use the bathroom before meeting the guides, so I took that time to wander around a bit and found this cool pond

Then, I went to meet the guide and they took us to an orchid green house (they mainly study orchids here). I did not gain any new information apart from learning the name of the orchid's modified lower petal. I did take some pictures though

Then, we walked through a secondary forest area, which really did not have anything particularly noteworthy apart from a lot of golden weeb spiders. We did find some ginger root plants and that lead to me learning that the liquid secreted by its flower is used as a higene product by some of the native groups here, which was cool

(The flower that was used by natives was the red variant, I used the yellow one because the picture I took was cooler. Nor sure if there is a substantial difference between the two)

After that, we arrived at the fern area (there are ferns there). Once more, I did not learn anything new and, once morer, I took some pictures

I had never seen a fern three in real life, so this was really awesome. There was also a pond with some water lilies there for some reason

The cactus area followed this, and it was really underwhelming. There was a fucking inflatable there and some people grilling, nor to mention that the presentation of the cactus was terrible. I learned nothing new (not that they discussed the cactus much). Also I got left behind here

After someone finally answered my desperate calling on the group chat, I managed to be reunited with my group. They where at the japanese garden (that is there for reasons), but my late arrival caused me to miss the lore of the place. There were barely any plants there, but they got some nice looking architecture (although I do not know anything about it)

(The second and third photos were taken by a classmate. I used them because I had barely any time to be here)

And that was it for the guided tour. They just dropped us on a picnic area near the japanese garden an told us to go to the reaserch building in an hour. It was really disappointing

In the meantime I got a cool shirt and saw some flowers

The building tour was like ten minutes long. There was a cool library some laboratories where they did micro propagation of plants (taking some meristemas [cells that allow the plant to grow] and leaving them to grow in some substrate while being shaken around so the cells do not differentiate and create roots, leaves or other stuff and then they divide those cells and use them to grow new plants[I knew about the practice, but not the process]) and a photography room where they take apart the plants and make informational images about their individual parts. It was ok

Then I went home the same way on the bus. The end

As for my final thoughts: This trip follows the last trip's thing of feeling way more like a fun little visit than an educational experience and I heavily dislike that. There where some moments in last one that were actual field biology that were absent in this one, so I find this one worse. The shirt I got here was cooler, though. I hope you enjoyed this because I basically doxed myself with this and do not forget to like and subscribe for more in depth biology lab (and more classes in the future) field trip reviews

Final rating: 6/10

[bestghanatours]

Experience Pure Bliss in Ghana's Natural Havens with Best Ghana Tours.

Ghana, a country renowned for its vibrant culture and rich history, also offers some of the most serene and picturesque natural havens in Africa. At Best Ghana Tours we specialize in curating unforgettable experiences that allow you to immerse yourself in the pure bliss of Ghana’s natural landscapes. Whether you’re seeking lush forests, tranquil lakes, or pristine beaches, we have the perfect retreat for you.

One of our top destinations is Kakum National Park, home to Ghana's famous Canopy Walkway. Suspended high above the forest floor, this walkway offers breathtaking views of the lush rainforest. As you walk among the treetops, you can enjoy the calming sounds of nature and spot a variety of wildlife. Best Ghana Tours provides guided tours that delve into the park’s unique flora and fauna, ensuring a serene and educational experience.

Lake Bosomtwe, Ghana's only natural lake, is a tranquil oasis perfect for relaxation and adventure. Formed in a meteorite impact crater, the lake is surrounded by scenic hills and verdant forests. Our tours offer opportunities for boat riding, fishing, and swimming in the calm waters. For those seeking peace, our lakeside accommodations provide stunning views and a soothing atmosphere, making Lake Bosomtwe an ideal spot to unwind.

Just a short drive from Accra, the Aburi Botanical Gardens is a peaceful haven filled with exotic plants and towering trees. Established in 1890, these gardens offer a serene environment for a leisurely stroll or a quiet picnic. Best Ghana Tours organizes guided walks through the gardens, highlighting the diverse plant species and offering insights into their history. The gardens' tranquility makes it a perfect retreat for nature lovers and those looking to escape the city.

For beach lovers, Ada Foah is a must-visit destination. Located where the Volta River meets the Atlantic Ocean, Ada Foah boasts beautiful sandy beaches and clear waters. Our tours include boat rides along the Volta River, bird watching excursions, and visits to local fishing villages. The serene beaches provide an ideal setting for sunbathing, beach combing, and enjoying the gentle ocean breeze. Ada Foah’s peaceful ambiance is perfect for a relaxing coastal getaway.

Mole National Park, the largest wildlife reserve in Ghana, offers a unique blend of adventure and tranquility. With Best Ghana Tours, you can embark on guided safari tours to see elephants, antelopes, and baboons in their natural habitat. The park’s vast landscapes and remote location create a serene environment, making it an excellent destination for wildlife enthusiasts seeking peace and solitude.

Ghana's natural havens provide the perfect backdrop for experiencing pure bliss and tranquility. At Best Ghana Tours we are dedicated to creating memorable journeys that showcase the serene beauty of Ghana's landscapes. From the treetops of Kakum National Park to the peaceful shores of Ada Foah, we ensure that every moment of your trip is filled with relaxation and wonder.

Ready to experience pure bliss in Ghana’s natural havens? Contact Best Ghana Tours today to book your personalized tour. Let us guide you through the serene landscapes of Ghana and create unforgettable memories of tranquility and natural beauty.

[mixtapemag]

JULIEN BAKER AT THALIA HALL

Photos by Christopher Hall

Julien Baker kicked off her fall 2024 tour with an unbelievable show full of twists and turns on Monday night in Chicago. Julien walked on stage solo to start the set - launching into "Guthrie." The set saw live debuts of "Conversation Piece" and "Crying Wolf" and the debut of a brand new song named "Middle Children."

Julien introducing "Middle Children" was met with an excited roar from the crowd before the room fell completely silent - each human being in Thalia Hall feeling new Julien music wash over them. The song was beautiful and synthy and full of harmonies. It feels like a big new warm direction for JB.

The rest of the setlist bounced back and forth between Julien backed by her big band and just her and a guitar. There was a funky "Shadowboxing" and a big loud "Turn Out The Lights" which kicked off the encore. A one-two punch of "Ringside" and "Hardline" off of Little Oblivions closed the night.

Monday night was the start of a multi-city North American tour that runs through the end of October. Julien and the band sound spectacular and you should make it a priority to get out to a show ASAP.

Check out everything Julien Baker over here.

Previously on Mixtape:

Photos of Julien Baker at The Kennedy Center.

Photos of boygenius at connect festival.

Photos of boygenius at pryzm.

Photos of boygenius at the piece hall.

Photos of boygenius at way out west 2023.

Photos of boygenius at the idaho botanical garden.

Photos of boygenius at the forest hills stadium.

Photos of boygenius at the fox theater.

Photos of boygenius at the premiere of "the film".

Photos of Julien Baker at Fox Theater.

Photos of Julien Baker at 9:30 Club.

Photos of Julien Baker at Amplify Decatur.

Photos of boygenius at Brooklyn Steel.

Photos of Julien Baker at Shadow of the City.

Photos of Julien Baker in Prospect Park.

Photos of Julien Baker at White Eagle Hall.

Photos of Julien Baker at Union Transfer.

Photos of Julien Baker at Outside Lands.

Photos of Julien Baker at Newport Folk Festival.

Christopher Hall posts over here. Go see Julien & the band.

[headingalaxys-spicy]

Hello ! Can I request an headcanon for Russia please ? Russia has been in a relationship with a human (gender neutral please) for almost a decade and one day he decides to tell them that he's a nation. After the confession his s/o decides to reveal to him that they're not human but immortal (like they were born in France at the beginning of the 19th century, so they are about 200 years old), how would Russia reacts ?

Thank you in advance, have a nice day ❤

Incoming fluffy post. I don't know why; just this ask filled my mind with clouds.

Enjoy anon~

From the outset of an innocent romance that began when you were in Tomsk. You had seen a tall and imposing giant on the opposite side of the lake looking over at you. At first, his stance toward you seemed ominous. He looked like a legend of a summer Yeti, greyish blond locks slightly rustled in the wind, ever still and watching from the foliage out at other humans that he knows whose lives are transient like that of the mosquitos other small insects that buzz incessantly in his ears. He'd been watching you for a while now since your arrival in the spring to a small cottage home built of pure stone.

Since you were new, you paid him no mind. For he only seemed to appear at random times through the first couple of months. You kept track of the times that you would see the "man beneath the trees" A fun little pastime while adjusting to the new realities of being in a new nation. It was fun and also extremely depressing at times.

You wouldn't be lonely for much longer. Though for one day, he brought his eager cat, who go overzealous and dived into the river. Somehow it swam fast over to your side of the river.

'My owner needs to be bold and get a grip. This is the only way to accomplish it.' As the Siberian Forest Cat speeds away even though it's coat was heavily laden with water from the pristine lake.

From that point on, he finally decided to talk to you. It started a decades-long relationship. That involved long nights walking through secret botanical gardens only he knew about to old war sites that carried history that he deemed essential to him. Some days would be filled with frigid silence after an argument. Others were strange where you only wanted to hold his hand, but not hear his voice. The extreme highs reached the icy tips of Mount Elbrus to the deep lows of the murky black sea. Your type of love is enduring, real, and rare.

Which is why it was easier ...yet still vexing for him because losing you would be a detriment to him, but it could also be spellbindingly exciting. He would no longer have to edit his feeling and speech with you. He could lament about his past and sing you the songs of which he sang while he was lonely.

You were in the same place where you met him when he decided to let the truth soar into the sky.

"Y/N?" He grips your hand tighter than usual. It was a polar bear grip that he had whenever he'd had a harsh truth to tell you. This action pulls you out of your mind and away from the blooming sunflower fields that were only 15 ft away from your vision. You maneuver your now worried eyes up towards his glowing lavender shades. His face is still primarily unreadable. You knew you had to depend on his subtle gestures to read him. You turned your body to face him, and you felt a little wobbly on the grassy ground that had small sprouts, lightly sweeping your snow shoes.

"Ivan."

"I'm a nation. Which means that I'm immortal and I've been alive for hundreds of years. I'm not like you at all but....You're one of the only beings to ever struggle with what love is, and I....." The words came rushing from his mouth like the Neva river reaching the Gulf. He wanted the unpleasant moment to be over in a flash. He know he'd lose you now. You'd think he's crazy, power-hungry, a mons-

A lone hand gently caresses his face to ease his fears. You're unsure of how to react to a confession like that. You don't accuse him of lies or of trying to gain some sort of tiktok fame. You simply just stay silent and allow you smile to bring the sunshine that he's always loved gleaming over his tattered soul. It was a safe haven for him.

"What's wrong sweetheart? If you're afraid you'll lose me because of the confession well consider that fear invalid."

You reached up onto your toes to give him a reassuring cheek kiss. He will in turn accept and let his cheeks go full flush. His face is as red as the last stripe in his flag.

"Y/N?" He asks again as his heart quivers, he's unsure of how to handle the host of new feelings that come along with being as free as a songbird released from it's cage.

If you got Russia of all nations to confess that he’s a nation… Holy Shit that’s a lot of emotional labor that you put into the relationship. Not only that he’s the hardest to get to confess. 

This is a topic that the two of you will have to work out over time. You’re going to be shell-shocked by the truth for a while so much so to where you do leave for a while to work out how you feel. Although during that time you reassure Ivan that you don’t hate him, it’s just a lot to consider. Since he trusts you, he doesn’t freak out about your sudden trip back to your home country. He knows that you need time to process. He’s witnessed you when you’ve been baffled and acknowledges that you need space. Although right before you leave and right after you come back, he will be high-level of clingy. So be prepared for that. You’re the longest stable and HEALTHY relationship he’s ever had so he doesn’t want to mess it up. However, since the foundation of your relationship is solid and not transactional in any manner. His confession to being a nation will draw the two of you together closer.

Neither of you spoke for the rest of the day. You didn't need to. For the sturdy foundation of trust that was already built was enough for you to not worry about what he said but now you were curious as to what the real implications of his confession would be. But none of it scared you or made you anxious. For as long as you had trust that flowed freely between the two of you, nothing else mattered. You grabbed both of his thickly gloved hands and looked him dead in the eyes.

"I love you, Ivan Braganski." as a bold proclamation as if you were about to implement an immediate takeover. You rose to your feet once again and the sprouts seemed to bloom and push you upwards so that you could give him a gentle kiss.

[skymagpie]

Do you guys think that back on Al-An’s home world, the Architects have some kind of huge botanical garden with plant specimen from all around the universe? Same with animal specimen, or perhaps just the DNA of millions of species that they could synthesize as needed?

That would also be interesting with Robin’s arrival, will maybe Al-An try and find all the Earth plants they have and try and offer her familiar food since she has been on 4546B food for so long? Or if the garden has actual living plants, walking through miles and miles of different forests and fields would be really nice.

[signs-of-blossoming]

hello hellooo o/

for the platonic f/o asks:

🏝 Where would you like to travel with your platonic f/o?

📌 How soon and why did you decide to make them an f/o?

🧃 Were you and your f/o childhood friends? If so, what were you like? If not, what would it have been like if you’d known each other as kids?

for mitsuru and/or niki?:3

omg haii hello haiii bestie :D going to answer for both mitsuru and niki

🏝 Travelling gets me very stressed meaning theres like. 0,5 people in the whole world whom id travel with to some place i haven't been in before, so for this one im picking from places ive visited already :3

Mitsuru and Arisu are going to Georgia :3 I had to live there for a bit + came back there several times, and its actually a pretty nice place. I already know where the best bakery in Batumi is + they're going ham on achma and khachapuri + going to the botanical garden together but accidentally going on the wrong bus so Mitsuru and Arisu have to walk five billion hours uphill through the forest on the roadside hust to get there, and then its four hours of walking through it so Mitsuru (unbothered king, still running around) has to drag Arisu back to the exit afterwards <- based on true story. They had fun tho ^w^ A lot of walks near the sea too!!

Arisu and Niki Thailand trip is so real to me. The whole time I've been in Thailand i just kept thinking that having Niki there would be sooo fun. Eating insects without people being weird about it 💗💗💗 Going to a night market to try something different for dinner every time 💗💗💗

huh i really made both of those about food huh....

📌 If we're talking about specifically establishing them as my f/os... Pretty close to this blog creation ngl ^w^ im new here teehee. I have figured out me and Niki share an unbreakable bond pretty much as soon as ive read hot limit (and main story itself to some extent tbh) and i got a soft spot for Mitsuru after reading What Day Is Today and Purple Wisterias of May so... whenever I got my hands on those tls?

🧃 Arisu isn't from Japan originally, so they had zero chance of being childhood friends TwT7 But in an alternative universe....

Arisu used to be much more awkward in the past, but they got along with younger children well enough, so I'd imagine it would be Mitsuru dragging this older nervous kid into his adventures... Fun to imagine indeed hehe :3

And Niki and Arisu i feel like would constantly visit each others houses, to the point where their parents set an extra plate for dinner every time. And when Niki was left to live alone Arisu would come over even more often so he doesn't stay alone

[oliolioxenfreewrites]

Time's Eden: Prologue

In a world where nature has whispered its last breath under the crushing weight of human neglect, a solitary figure walks through the remnants of what was once known as the Eden of Time, the world's last botanical garden. This is Alex, a resilient botanist whose eyes hold the fervor of a fading hope, a hope to revive the barren earth that now stretches endlessly around them.

The garden, a mere shadow of its former glory, lies forgotten, its secrets buried beneath layers of decay and lost memories. Here, amidst the ruins, Alex stumbles upon something extraordinary — an ancient clock, its surface adorned with intricate carvings of flora long thought extinct. This clock, however, is far from ordinary. It hums with a strange energy, an energy that whispers of times past and secrets untold.

Driven by curiosity and the desperate hope that this clock might hold the key to reviving the earth, Alex investigates its mysteries. They soon discover that the clock is not just a keeper of time, but a gateway to it. With each turn of its hands, Alex is transported to different historical points, to times and places where the plants carved on its surface thrived.

But this power comes with a price. For in the shadows of the past, a figure emerges — Jordan, whose fate seems intricately linked with the garden's history and secrets. Their encounters, fleeting and filled with questions, hint at a story much bigger than Alex could have imagined.

As the sun sets on what was once Eden, Alex stands at the precipice of a journey that will span centuries. A journey to uncover the secrets of the past, to revive the barren present, and perhaps, to discover a love that transcends time itself.

But the clock is ticking, and with each journey, the mystery deepens. Who was Jordan, and what role did they play in the garden's history? Can the secrets of the past really save the future? And is Alex prepared for the truths they might uncover?

Join Alex on their journey through time and nature in "Time's Eden," a tale of hope, love, and the relentless pursuit of revival. #TimesEden

Next Part: The Clockwork Secret — Alex's first journey takes them to a time of lush forests and forgotten lore. But not all is as it seems, and danger lurks in the beauty of the past...

[bumblebeeappletree]

We meet Professor Kingsley Dixon, AO, a botanist whose devotion to science has transformed our understanding of native plant cultivation.

He lives on a 160-acre garden and bush block south of Perth, in the Darling Range. This is the passion project of Professor Dixon, an internationally recognised botanist who revolutionised native plant cultivation and is now cultivating a botanic garden of his own. Kingsley, his husband Lionel, and their dog, Rufus, have been working on this historic garden for almost 10 years, lovingly restoring the 12 acres of formal gardens, amassing collections of native and exotic plants, and observing the unique wet temperate forest surrounding it.

Kingsley has decades of important contributions to plant science in Australia, and created the Science and Research department at Kings Park, which he helmed for 32 years. Most notably, he led the team that discovered it was not heat or ash from a bushfire that stimulated the germination of so many Australian plants, but chemicals found in the smoke. This year, he was recognised for his contribution to Australian plant science, receiving an Officer of the Order of Australia (AO). He was also Western Australia's Scientist of the Year in 2016, and was featured in David Attenborough’s BBC Private Life of Plants documentary series.

Kingsley grew up in Bayswater, in the eastern suburbs of Perth. ‘My family loved gardening but we were really working class. My dad was a tractor driver but he collected water lilies, we were always building lily ponds!’ His family were largely unaware of native plants though, as were many people at the time.

"My first experience working with native plants was in the summer holidays of 1965/1966. I was 12 years old and had nothing to do, so I would sit in the car with my father while he worked as a bulldozer driver for the rubbish dump. Every day, we drove by a sign for Wyemando Native Plant Nursery, and I finally built up the courage to ask him to drop me off there in the morning and pick me up on his way home from work. I walked into this nursery and asked if I could help out."

The two sisters who ran it, Nancy and Susan Harper, begrudgingly obliged, and his mind was opened to the wonderful world of native plant cultivation.

"Working there exposed me to extraordinary diversity that impressed me so much. I wanted to find magical places that they talked about seeing and collecting plants." This obsession motivated him through his studies.

Along with a team of colleagues from Kings Park and the Universities, he undertook an 11-year study to identify the specific chemical in smoke that is responsible for germination. More than 4000 chemicals in smoke were analysed. This led to the discovery in 2004 of a new class of molecules that they named karrikinolides, after the Noongar word for smoke, ‘Kerrick’. Karrikinolides were the first new class of plant growth regulation hormones discovered in 30 years, and are now used in the common horticultural product, smokewater. "Few other single ecological findings have had such a profound impact across so many areas of Australian ecology.’"

Kingsley has also led significant research in the study and cultivation of native terrestrial orchids. He was one of the scientists who studied the link between orchids and their mycorrhizal fungi, which are crucial to their growth. In the field as well, he was the first to describe at least 3 species of orchid, and Caleana dixonii, the Sandplain Duck Orchid, was first identified by and later named after him.

His research now largely focuses on rebuilding landscapes, such as mine site rehabilitation.

At home, he is also excited to have grown one of Western Australia’s rarest plants, a carnivorous aquatic species called the Waterwheel Plant that traps small insects and animals in the water.

Filmed on Pindjarup Country in Waroona, WA

[bali-adventure-time]

🌴 Ready for an Unforgettable 4-Day Bali Adventure? 🌴

Day 1: Exploring Ubud 🌿🐒

Morning:

Tegallalang Rice Terraces 🌾: Walk through the beautiful rice fields and take photos.

Ubud Monkey Forest 🐒: See playful monkeys in a lush forest.

Afternoon:

Ubud Palace 🏯: Visit this stunning palace and learn about Balinese history.

Ubud Art Market 🎨: Shop for unique crafts and souvenirs.

Evening:

Campuhan Ridge Walk 🌄: Enjoy a scenic walk with amazing views.

Dinner in Ubud 🍽️: Try crispy duck at a local restaurant.

Day 2: Adventure in East Bali 🚵‍♂️🕌

Morning:

Tirta Empul Temple 💧: Visit this temple with holy spring water.

Gunung Kawi 🏞️: Explore ancient rock-cut shrines.

Afternoon:

Goa Gajah (Elephant Cave) 🐘: Discover a mysterious cave and beautiful pools.

Lunch at a Local Warung 🍛: Enjoy tasty Balinese food like Nasi Goreng.

Evening:

Relax at Your Hotel 🛏️: Enjoy spa time or relax by the pool.

Dinner 🍜: Have a quiet meal at your hotel or a nearby restaurant.

Day 3: Beach Day in South Bali 🏖️🌊

Morning:

Nusa Dua Beach 🏄‍♀️: Relax on the beach and try water sports.

Water Blow 🌊: Watch big waves crash against rocks.

Afternoon:

Jimbaran Bay 🦞: Eat delicious seafood at a beachside café.

Garuda Wisnu Kencana Park 🦅: See the huge statue and explore the park.

Evening:

Uluwatu Temple 🌅: Visit the cliff-top temple and watch a Kecak Dance at sunset.

Dinner at Jimbaran Beach 🍤: Enjoy a seafood dinner on the sand.

Day 4: Exploring North Bali 🌺💦

Morning:

Ulun Danu Beratan Temple ⛩️: Visit this temple on a lake.

Handara Gate 📸: Take cool photos at this iconic gate.

Afternoon:

Gitgit Waterfall 💧: Hike to this beautiful waterfall.

Bali Botanic Garden 🌳: Explore the gardens and see tropical plants.

Evening:

Lovina Beach 🏖️: Relax at this quiet beach and maybe see dolphins.

Dinner in Lovina 🍽️: Have dinner at a beachfront restaurant.

Additional Tips:

Transportation 🚗: Hire a private driver for easy travel.

Accommodation 🏨: Stay in central places like Ubud and Nusa Dua.

Local Etiquette 🙏: Dress modestly at temples and respect local customs.

Enjoy your Bali adventure! 🌴🌞

For more information, visit our official website La Esperanza Travels or contact us at 9811822579.

[idiosymphony]

少年の日の思い出：Das Nachtpfauenauge, by Hermann Hesse

Note: This story is translated from Japanese to English, but its original language is German. I could not find an English translation anywhere online, but I cannot speak German, so I referenced both the German and Japanese text to create this translation. Its German title means “The Peacock Moth” and the Japanese title means “Memories from the Days of Boyhood”. Although this story is very famous in Japan, as it features in a middle school textbook, it is little known elsewhere.

Translation is under the cut.

My guest, having returned from the evening walk, sat down close to me in my study. Daylight had begun to fade away. Outside the window, a faded lake stretched far into the distance, fringed sharply by a hilly shore. My youngest son had just bode me goodnight, and so we began to speak of our childhood memories. 

“Ever since I had my children, my childhood habits and interests have come back to me. In fact, for a year now I’ve been collecting butterflies again. Shall I show you?” I said. 

And my guest asked to see, so I went to fetch my light cardboard box that held my collection. Opening the first box, I finally noticed how completely dark it was. I took my lamp and struck a match. The outside scenery became shrouded in darkness, the entire window closed off into the opaque blue of the night. 

My butterflies glittered brightly in the box, illuminated by the bright light of the lamp. We sat hunched over it, gazing at the beautiful shapes and brilliant dark colours, naming the butterflies. 

“This is the Yellow Bands Underwing, Fulminea in Latin. It’s quite rare around here.” I said. 

My friend carefully took out one of the butterflies from the box, without removing its pin, and looked at the back of its wings. 

“How odd. Nothing arouses memories of my childhood quite as strongly as the sight of butterflies. When I was a young boy, I was a passionate collector.” He said. 

And he pinned the butterfly back to where it was, and said, “I’ve seen enough.” 

He spoke quickly, as if the memory was unpleasant for him. After I had swiftly put back the box and returned, he gave me a faint smile and requested a cigarette from me. 

“Take no offense,” he then said, “although did not give your collection a proper look. When I was a child, I also collected butterflies, but unfortunately I have tarnished those memories through my own fault. Really, it’s almost too embarrassing to speak of, but let me tell you this story.” 

***

When I was around eight or nine years of age, I began collecting butterflies. At first, I was not particularly passionate, but simply did it because it was popular. However, on the second summer when I was around ten years old, I had become completely captivated by this game. 

I poured all my heart into this game, putting off everything else around me. It had gotten to a point where everyone often thought to make me stop. When going out to catch butterflies, I was deaf to the clock in the tower chiming, be it schooltime or lunchtime. During vacations, I often trotted around from early morning till night without coming home to eat, bringing with me only a slice of bread in my botanical specimen bag. 

Even now, when I look at beautiful butterflies, I feel that same passion deeply within me. When this happens, for a split second I am gripped by that indescribable, ravenous, enthralling feeling that only a child can experience. It’s that feeling I had as a boy, when I first snuck up to a yellow swallowtail. 

And during those times, I immediately recall the numerous moments in my youth. The scorching afternoons in the strong-scented, dry wilderness. The cool mornings in the garden, the mystical evenings on the edge of the forest. I would lie in wait with my net, like a man searching for treasure. 

And when I found a beautiful butterfly⁠—it didn’t matter if it wasn’t particularly rare⁠—perched on a flower in the sunshine, its wings rising and falling with its breaths, the joy of capturing it would almost suffocate me. As I crept up to it gradually, making out each shining speck of colour, each crystal-clear feather veins, each fine auburn hairs on its antennae, I could barely contain my nervousness and delight. I did not often feel such mixture of subtle joy and intense desire. 

As my parents did not give me sophisticated equipment, I had to keep my collection in an old, crumpled cardboard box. I would cut out a piece of cork from a wine stopper, and paste it to the bottom of it. There, I would stick my pins into it. Between the crushed edges of this box, I kept my treasures. 

At first, I would often happily show my collections to my friends. But the others would have wooden boxes with glass lids, cages with green gauze pasted onto them, and other such luxurious items. And so I was unable to boast about my childish equipment. On the contrary, even if I had a significant and reputable finding or catch, I would keep it a secret and only show it to my younger sisters. 

One time, I caught a Freyer’s Purple Emperor, which was rare around where we lived. I spread its wings to display it, and once it dried, I was so pleased with myself that I decided to show it only to the boy next door. 

This boy was a teacher’s son, who lived across the courtyard. He possessed the vice of faultlessness, which was twice as off-putting for a child. Although his collection was small and meager, its neatness and precise care made each one appear to be a single gem. What’s more, he was familiar with the extremely difficult and rare technique of using animal glue to patch together damaged or broken wings. 

In any case, he was a model boy by all counts. And due to this, I envied, admired and despised him. 

I showed this boy my Freyer’s Purple Emperor. He expertly appraised it, acknowledged its rarity, and priced it at about 20 Pfennig. However, he then began to find fault, complaining about the way I had spread its wings, how its right antenna was bent, how its left antenna was stretched out. And on top of that, he correctly discovered the glaring flaw of two missing legs. 

Although I did not think much of these shortcomings, the merciless critique greatly wounded the joy I had for my catch. And so I never again showed him my catches. 

Two years had passed, and we had become older boys, but my passion was still at its climax. Around then, rumors spread that Emil next door had hatched a Peacock Moth from its chrysalis. Right now, if I were to hear that an acquaintance had inherited a million marks, or if a lost book from Livy had been found, I would not be as excited as I was then. 

Not one of my friends had caught a Peacock Moth as of yet. I had only seen it once, in an old book of butterflies I owned. Out of the ones I had known the name of but didn’t have in my box, there was nothing else I had wanted as fervently as the Peacock Moth. Over and over again, I gazed at its illustration in my book. 

One friend told me this: When the amber butterfly is perched on a tree bark or a rock, and a bird or another threat attempts to attack it, the butterfly would unfold its blackish front feathers and show off its beautiful back feathers. But because those large shining splotches present a very strange and unexpected appearance, the bird is struck by fear and ceases to engage with it. 

Hearing that Emil was in possession of this mysterious butterfly, I became overwhelmed with excitement and could not wait until I could see it. After lunch, when I was allowed out, I immediately hopped the courtyard and headed into the neighbor’s house. I went up to the fourth storey, and the teacher’s son had his own room, albeit small. There’s no telling how jealous I was. 

While making my journey, I did not meet anyone. I arrived upstairs and knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Emil was not home. I pulled the door handle, and noticed the entrance was unlocked. 

I entered, wanting to at least see that butterfly. And I immediately picked up the two large boxes that Emil kept his collection in. I couldn’t find it in either box, but I was thinking perhaps it was still on the setting block. 

And there it was. Its velvet amber wings spread out with thin paper, the Peacock Moth was pinned onto the setting block. I leaned over it, poring closely over the reddish-brown hairy antennae, the elegant edges of its wings with an indescribable color, the wool-like hairs on the inside edges of its back wings. Unfortunately, I could not see its famous splotches. It was hidden underneath the thin piece of paper. 

Heart thrumming in my chest, I lost to the temptation of wanting to remove the piece of paper and pulled out the pin. And the four splotches, large and mysterious, much more beautiful and brilliant than the one in my book, stared at me. 

Looking at it, I was overcome with an irresistible desire to obtain this treasure. And for the first time in my life, I committed an act of theft. 

I pulled the clip gently. The butterfly was already dry, and so it did not lose its shape. I placed it in my palm and took it out of Emil’s room. At that moment, I felt nothing but great satisfaction. 

Hiding the butterfly in my right hand, I went down the stairs. Immediately after, I heard someone heading up towards me. At that moment, my conscience awakened. I suddenly realized that I was a thief, a despicable sort. 

At the same time, I was struck with a horrific anxiety that someone may discover me. I instinctively hid my hand into my shirt pocket, with the catch still inside. I continued to walk, but my body shook with a cold feeling that I had done something most appalling and shameful. 

I crossed paths with the maid heading upstairs, frightened out of my skin. My heart pounded. Sweat gathered at my forehead. I completely lost my composure. Terrified of myself, I stood by the house’s entrance. 

Immediately, I understood that I could not, and should not keep holding onto this butterfly. I must return it to where it was, and if I could, pretend that nothing had ever happened. 

Though I intensely feared bumping into someone and being discovered, I hurriedly retraced my steps and ran back upstairs. A minute later, I was standing in Emil’s room again. I removed my hand from my pocket, placing the butterfly on the table. 

Without even taking a closer look, I already understood what misfortune had taken place. I was pushed to the verge of tears. The Peacock Moth had been crushed. One forewing and one antenna was missing, and when I cautiously pulled the broken wing out of my pocket, I found it torn to pieces, beyond mending. 

The sight of the beautiful, rare butterfly I had destroyed tormented my heart more than the feeling of theft. I saw the delicate amber wing dust sticking to my fingers, and the torn wing lying close by. I would have happily given up any possession or passion, if it meant I could make it whole once more. 

I went home sad, and sat in our small garden until evening, until at last I gathered up the courage to tell my mother everything. My mother reacted with shock and sadness, but seemed to feel that making this confession caused me to suffer more than any punishment. 

“You must go over to Emil’s,” she said firmly, “and tell him so yourself. You may offer him to pick something out from your possessions, to make up for it. And you must ask for his forgiveness.” 

If it had been anyone but that model boy, I would have immediately felt inclined to do so. I had a definitive feeling in advance that he would not understand me, nor attempt to believe me. It eventually became night, but I did not feel like going over. My mother found me in the courtyard and whispered to me, “It has to be today. Now, go.” 

And so, I went over, and asked for Emil. He came out and told me that someone had ruined his Peacock Moth, and that he didn’t know whether a bad guy or a cat had done it. I asked him to show me the butterfly. We went up, he lit the candle, and I saw the ruined butterfly on the setting block. I saw the marks of the efforts Emil had made to restore it, but there was no mending that. The antenna was indeed still missing. 

Now, I said it was me who did it, and attempted to elaborate and explain. Emil did not rail or yell at me, but instead clicked his tongue lowly and looked at me silently for a while. And then, he said: “I see, I see. So that’s how you are.” 

I told him I’d give him all my toys, but he still held his icy posture and looked at me in contempt. And so I told him he could have all the butterflies in my collection. However, he said: “No, thank you. I already know all of your collection. And today I got to see how you handle butterflies.”  

At that moment, I came very close to leaping at his throat. There was nothing that could be done anymore. It was already decided that I was a scoundrel, and Emil stood in front of me coldly, as if to represent the very laws of the world, shielded by justice, disparaging me. He did not even insult me. He only gazed at me in contempt. 

That’s when I realized for the first time, once something had happened, it could no longer be atoned for. I left, and was glad that my mother did not pry but left me alone after a kiss. “Go to bed,” she told me. It was quite late for me. But before I did so, I quietly went to the dining room and fetched my large amber cardboard box. I put it on my bed, opening it up in the darkness. And then I took out the butterflies one by one, and crushed them to dust with my fingers. 

[caterpillarinacave]

The Post TLH Children:

Zachary Carstairs:

Zachary is kind of living his best life.

He’s got a great brother, great sister, plenty of adults who love him, some really weird friends, some normal friends, a world to live in that he loves, and an entire universe to experience.

He gets along pretty well with most people, obviously loves him family a bunch. In his opinion, his brother is the coolest (though he’d never say it out loud.)

He’s got this deadpan sort of humor that not everyone catches onto, but genuinely means well, and when needed turns the sarcasm off for people he cares about. He’s very perky and optimistic, if not somewhat distractable. 

He thought about going into politics, decided that would be too boring. He fully intends to move to Paris, Chicago, Rome or something of the like, and do something INTERESTING. Maybe be a reporter, a designer, or better yet, a food critic. 

Mismatched socks, purple curtains, watching the sun set on a balcony, standing in solidarity with a crowd, sweet air, great skin, falling in love with life, city apartments, satin shirts, grinning to yourself, coffee with plenty of cream, the taste of grapes, golden handkerchiefs, being proud of your family, smelling like fresh linen, warm hazelnut and eau de cologne. 

Alexander Lightwood:

 

He’s honestly just a pretty nice guy. 

Blue eyed boy, straight black hair, pretty casual. Very loyal, very protective. He also is a music guy. He prefers band, specializing in brass, specifically tuba. You think the tuba doesnt give him rizz? Wrong, it does. So does the trumpet, but it doesn’t spark the same joy as the massive hunk of metal the size of a small child. 

 He can also sing, but doesnt pour his heart into it the way he does for instrument. 

He really, genuinely, adores Peter, swearing to be his friend when he met him as a tiny little baby. He probably didn’t expect to become parabatai, but pretty quickly realized that he got along with Peter better than he got along with anyone else, and enjoys his company like no other. All deeper meanings aside, they just really mesh well. 

Alexander doesn’t have the same obsessiveness Peter does, but he’ll come over to the Fairchild house for hours nonetheless. He’s content to sit in the room and read, draw, study, ect ect while Peter plays the same song thirty eight times. 

He starts a marching band. A street band, and a pretty damn good one. Peter, much as he isnt a band kid, helps him as much as he can. 

He runs around London a lot, usually with Peter. Botanical gardens, old graveyards, ancient churches, quaint coffee shops, patches of woods or flowers, he wants to poke around them. 

He’s really big on the natural, forest academia type of vibe.

He’s also got his own anxieties, and some survivors’ guilt.

He really wants to protect everyone. He never knew Christopher, but he sees how much everyone misses him and is terrified he’s gonna lose someone he loves. When he was little he started having dreams of Peter dying, and they’ve continued for years. Even though Peters is pretty much fine on his own, he’s deathly afraid Peters is gonna get bored of him, or he’s gonna go and get killed.

He’s still got a scar on his chest from Tatiana; and while it’s never caused him a problem, at times it feels like he survived when he shouldn’t have. 

 Everyone older than him went through all this trauma but he just barely slipped past.  What did he do that made him any better? Why did he deserve better? Why did he survive when his bother didn’t? Would it have been better if he died? If he had died, would they miss him as much?

Also he’s got a potty mouth. Considering how laid back and friendly he is, it’s a little jarring, but he walks into the room with his friends and swears like a sailor on a hot day.

Promises between friends, steel swords, creeks in the forest, misting rain running off of building, overgrown indoor plants, blueberry skins in your teeth, the scent of wool, protect those you love, falling asleep on your best friends shoulder, taking the stairs, swimming in lakes, walking around when the world is asleep, sharing your soul with one person, missing something you can't remember, running when you could walk, parades, the cacophony of a band, spit on your shoes, oil stains on your jeans, the perfect weight of a broadsword, stone sharpening a blade, warm milk, the scent of the forest, coffee, and wood, hundreds of voices mingling together in public until they are one with the world as the wind.

Peter Fairchild:

He was the last of the triplets to be born, and a surprise to end all surprises. With all the chaos Belials attack on London , Charlotte prenatal visits were mostly just “yep, no one’s dead in there”! So in a twist of fate that could only happen to the London Shadowhunters, bam, screaming baby boy. 

  Peter is super easy going, and joined at the hip with Alexander Lightwood. They’ve been besties literally since Peter was born. They bounce off each other well, and have spent multiple summers laying in the woods, swimming in lakes, and agonizing over music. They’ll end up teaching together in a music school eventually. 

Building on that, the kid is a musical masterpiece. Probably because music is all he does.

Adding on that memory rune, he’s Mozart on steroids. His big three are singing, piano and composing.

His voice is amazing, three octave range, most comfortable in as a low bass. Genuine talent, genuine passion. 

Piano was his first love, and he started it with Alexander. 

 His goal is composing, which he will eventually get to, and absolutely kick ass at.

All three of the triplets are the spitting image of their dad, it’s basically mini Henry 1# 2# and 3#. They inherited the red hair, freckles, eyes, and autism..  Peter is friendly, casual, so-so social skills, but he does try his best.

 He’s got plenty of curls himself, but he doesn’t like to mess with his hair, so he just goes with hats. Particularly herringbone caps, which he wears regardless of being inside or outside.

Also, he really doesn’t like getting his clothes wet. He likes to swim, doesn’t mind bathing, ect, but he hates the feeling of wet cloth on his skin.

Tweed jackets, flocks of songbirds going up, summer night air, leather shoelaces, piles and piles of sheet music, blinding heat of stage lamps, clapping of a crowd you can not see, the familiarity of piano keys, chopin and mozart, carnations, lapel pins, august days with your best friend, conductors baton slipped up your sleeve, the scent of rosin, valve oil, and pen ink under the smell of almond cologne.

Thelma Fairchild:

She’s trying, bless her.

She is dripping with that special brand of autism. She doesn’t realize when people are being mean to her, and doesn’t know how to tell them to leave her alone. She’s just as weird and exuberant as Henry, so she’s a prime target for the asshats of the shadowhunter world. She’s honestly very friendly, but just as lonely. 

Her poison of choice is dance.

When she was something like five, her mother took her to see a production of the Alice in Wonderland ballet and she fell in love. She’s tall for a ballerina, but the height standard for shadow hunter ballerinas is way higher than for mundane ones. The idea is seeing someone whose six foot tall dance en pointe is much more impressive than it is for someone a foot shorter do the same. 

Thelma, weird as she may be, is a genuinely brilliant dancer. She’s downright ethereal, totally willing to work at it 24/7 at it, great musicality, excellent actor, and an amazing storyteller. She’s a student at a ballet academy in Idris- arguably the best school in the world, and certainly one of the most challenging. 

She doesn’t love staying one her own, so she usually stays at the family residence in Idris as opposed to in the dorms at her academy.  

She loves the color yellow, loves her family, is definitely a lesbian and is hopelessly enthralled with life.

Sunlight streaming over wood floors, snow on the steps of massive stone libraries, books and candles, beating in pointe shoes, bobby pins in every drawer, dancing on your own, golden hour, freckles on your arms, standing on a balcony during a thunderstorm, sun faded furniture, poetry, reciting shakespeare to yourself, watching your shadow move, yards and yards of fabric, nooks and crannies, hidden corners, being loved by your family, “You’re just like your father”, blisters on your ankles, bruises on your knees, bones and angles, alone in a crowd, sweet candies, twirling in flowery courtyards, costumes and dresses, yellow everything, carefully polished jewelry, secrets whispered in candlelight, falling asleep on the floor, the satiny scent of a ballet studio over the scent of beeswax, and something warm and orangey, like wassail or mulled wine, loving the world despite everything it throws at you. 

Marigold Fairchild:

Mary, Goldie, Mary-goldie, whatever you call her, Marigold is the oldest of the triplets. 

Her thing is carving. Particularly, marble carving.

 She’s as obsessive as everyone else in her family and is really good at what she does. Probably because that’s all she does. She paints her statues, the same way ancient Romans did, though much updated. 

  She uses warlock pigments, fae powders, paints from every corner of the universe, and every piece of art is amazingly realistic. A fully finished statue is identical to an actual person. 

Her carving studio is a particularly large garden shed, renovated. Originally, it was supposed to be for all the triplets to play in but she took it over. Good luck getting it back.

She likes blue. A lot. When she isn’t carving, she looks for color. She loves the ocean, and likes to wander around the coast, the more wild the better. Scotland, Norway, Iceland, Denmark, ect. Her favorite by far is Ireland. The only thing she may like as much as carving or preparing to carve, is probably staring at the Irish coast. The color, the feeling you get, the greenness of it all, what she would give to live under those waves, stand in the surf during a storm, see that color, experience it, live in it.  Carving is the closest she gets to that type of living though, you know? It’s creating a person, freeing a form from its stone prison. Once you finish a carving you’re as familiar with that carving as you could be with any person in the world.

As an artist, she smokes a hookah recreationally. She’s the only one of the triplets to smoke, and none of them drink.

 She’s got a dog, an English setter, named Mary Shelly, Shelly for short. They figured since Matthew named a dog after an author they might as well keep the theme going (It was Matthew’s idea).

Shelly was her sixth birthday gift, for her first rune. Peter got a nice piano (and the old one moved to his room) , Thelma got one of the spare rooms redone to work as a ballet studio. 

 She takes very careful care of her curls. All the triplets have lovely hair, Marigold just uses product, lets it grow, covers it at night, ect. It’s waist length, 3a, excellent volume, and lowkey intimidating. 

Cold rain, paint on your forearms, pockets full of things, oversized clothes, nicks on your fingers, heather on the coast,  bare feet covered in grass stains, sleet in the morning, tons of cardamom tea, dyed fingertips, sketchbooks, drawing on yourself, callused fingers, sore arms, marble dust sticking on your hair, watching the stars with your one true love, shopping the shadow market searching for new pigments, bitten lips, dog hair stuck on your pants, and the scent of sea salt and stone with an undertone of wildness.

[vrgssmncht]

It keep on raining today so... Here's my recap of INVERTEFEST✨🪲 day 3 at Bogor Botanical Gardens!!

Yesterday was raining so much too but hell the change of scenery made me more enthusiastic of what I could find!

First I met with my partner and admiring some bracket mushroom when we found the first bugs! Never saw these kinds before! They're Eumorphus marginatus

After that, unrelated to bugs, kinda, but my local botanical gardens apparently has opened a new shiny NEPENTHES garden and it's just- the best new thing they have omg

They have a good collection of nephentes from Sumatra, Java, and Kalimantan (Borneo) while ALSO have Dorsera, Venus flytrap, and those American pitcher plants which is so cool of them my serotonin level is so high and still is it's the first time I ever seen them directly omgomg

Not only that, they also have information boards regarding where they came from, their functions, and other cool stuff! Thought most of the time you need to swipe water droplets off it cuz every so often the cool af water mist machine™ here's a pic of one of the board and me being absolutely thrilled with the water that came sprinkling down

After all that we continue our journey to the lake so I can find some aquatic bugs. It was not so successful though for the rain made it harder for me to focus to find bugs, I found some of these guys tho..

A water strider that actually kinda staying still as I took some pictures, a hell lot of dragonfly, a bee, apple snails (probably), and that little plant hopper in hell of a large group which eaten the aquatic plants..

Right after we decided to walk through the densely forested area to find more bugs which we did! lotsa little fella and this very cool coin spider and a skink!

dude's having lunch

skink guy

we also went to see the aquatic plants section, not very cool actually..

found an orange cranefly, some butterflies, snails fonicating.. though I found this small wasp nest with little wasps snuggling in it. their nest really camouflaged well to the background I'm impressed

Fast forward, walked far to see the orchidarium, it opens on wednesday, wack, we found bugs along the way and this carpenter bee though which was not wack.

Alas, we decided to go to the herb garden instead, which was also closed, so we just stroll around looking for bugs.. and bugs we did found!

even this very cool cicada molt which is my goal going there at the first place! great day great bugs!

man this is such a long post thank you for reading this far! 10/10 would do this again!