#sandy beech

[lasudio]

VeronaHills, Round Eleven: Beech

Of all the families in the village that the Crittur litter went to, Brady rather liked the bunch he chose.

They were a small family like the Travellers, consisting of two parents and their pup. Brady heard all about an older sibling he was yet to meet; he saw the parents' chests puff with pride when they spoke about her. The younger sibling was called Rocky and he was the first to answer the door when Brady scrabbled on it with paws (it was only polite to knock). The boy had a brow that seemed permanently set to serious, until it was offset by a glowing grin when Brady introduced himself.

Sandy spoke of frequent walks and attention and care required for such a stocky dog. She had a smile on her face, though. Brady could feel a sense of being welcome here. Now he just had to win over Hamilton, the somewhat lukewarm head of the family who only seemed energised when he was on the computer or reading books. His energy felt flat otherwise, as if something was missing.

It was late when Brady settled into his cosy new bed, picked out and proudly presented to him by Sandy and Rocky. He could hear fast and furious clacky tapping - Hamilton was nowhere near his bed.

Thinking back to being a puppy, Brady always liked the comfort of his mum or dad or one of the Travellers being close by. He decided to do the same for Hamilton. If he happened to receive a little pat, that would be a run on the board of becoming friends.

[wickedjr89gaming]

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

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

[widespot]

Okay, that was just what he needed to get through the homework.

Hamilton decides it's time for another party. (When is it not?) Wallys figures a cup of espresso will keep him from conking out too early.

"Come and get it, y'all!"

Virginia is full of the show she's working on, and it doesn't escape Wallys's notice that Dawn hangs on her every word. "Yea, I'm the third astronaut, the one who fights the alien with the wrench and screams: "Mayday" as I spiral off into space. Not much screentime, but I can sink my teeth into it."

Let's try this again, Sandy thinks. "So you're down with the plan to move back in here?" "It seems very economical, and I can take over the housework while you're in the store. Or I can help with the store." "Don't you have ambitions of your own?" "Not the sort that other people think of as ambitions."

"Watch out! You saw what I can do earlier today!" "Yeah, but I don't have a bum knee." "You two watch out! This oven's hot!"

Yup. The party is still hearty in this old bod.

"I was thinking - a memoir of mama would be a good thing, wouldn't it?" "…Surely that'd be primarily of local interest." "Nothing wrong with local interest. She did a lot for this town - she should be remembered!"

[penig]

Hamilton is winding up his political career and leaving things in order for his hand-picked successor, but he leaps at the chance of a junket to Takemizu Village. It'll be a good experience for his successor, a chance to prove themself; a nice honeymoon for Rocky and Ginger; and educational for Wallys, too!

Sandy starts right in arranging tours, sightseeing, and shopping.

They're kind of jetlagged, though, and the first tour leaves them all exhausted and hungry. "Thanks for ordering room service, but - isn't it very expensive? Just for food?" "We need food and we can afford the extra convenience." "This cake cost more than Grandma Faith used to make in a day!" "Grandma Faith was grossly underpaid." "Well, that's true."

(They damn near died in a TPK! The tour drained energy and hunger into the deep orange on everybody and we all know how dangerous that loop is! Fortunately I cut my teeth on Sims 1 and I can micromanage a crisis like nobody's business. If I could only get through real life crises as well!)

(Also, they have gobs of money and an all-family honeymoon is exactly what Hamilton would think appropriate.)

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you please do one where the reader is Stan and ford’s childhood friend? I’d imagine that they would both be SUPER protective, and later in adulthood they move in with does to help with his research. Stanley and ford secretly developed a crush on them over time but neither have admitted their feelings 🤭🤭

I made this one too fucking long as well the to might need to make a part two as not to overwhelming people.

You probably threw sand in some bullies eyes when they didn’t leave poor Ford alone/ and or comforted Ford alongside Stan afterwards bc confrontation wasn’t your thing. Either way it didn’t take long for you, Stan and Ford to become a well known trio in the town of New Jersey, one was never seen without the other two trailing behind.

You three were inseparable.

Ford was the brains and intellect

Stan was the protective fighter

And you were the mediator, the confidant, the person who’d encourage the twins to keep moving forward for that was the only way to go.

The mystery trio you called yourselves as you’d spend countless hours on the beech, searching for the abnormal and mysterious with nothing but your flashlights and determination to make a name for yourselves.

You didn’t give a shit about Ford’s six fingers, you thought they were cool and told him often that you were jealous.

‘Why?’ He’d ask.

‘It’s cooler to be different than it is to fit in the norm.’ You’d tell him as you’d both sit somewhere overlooking the beach, hearing the cries of seagulls and the crashing of the waves against the sandy beaches. ‘One day everyone is going to try and find something abnormal about themselves to fit in, as though they weren’t the same people who’d shun people for being a little different. They’ll never admit that they’re the bad guy and all they want is attention and will throw a tantrum when they don’t get it.’

You then placed a hand on Ford’s shoulder and squeezed. ‘So don’t listen to them Stanford, you’ll make a name of yourself one day and they’ll all flock to you like moths to a flame. High six?’ You raised your hand.

‘High six.’ Ford replied as you high-fived/ high-sixed each other.

Their dad didn’t like you but you didn’t give a shit because you didn’t like him all that much either with how he treated Stanley in comparison to Ford and would often refuse to go to their house when you knew he was there.

Shermie pines however adored you for keeping her boys in line and being their friend and practically adopted you into the family as she would then move her attention to her sons.

‘So which one of you is going to fall for them first?’ She would ask as Stan and Ford look at her with flustered cheeks.

‘They’re just a friend!’

‘Yeah a friend!’ The twins defective words would overlap which didn’t help their matching blushes that looked like cherry tomatoes by now.

Shermie would then throw her arms over the boys’ shoulders and said. ‘That’s what they all say until it becomes harder to ignore what you truly feel for them. Now it might be platonic but what about later on in the future where you look at them and suddenly think about planning a future with them.’

Now at this point neither Ford nor Stan truly understand what they felt for you at the time, they only thought they were being your protective friends who’d glare at whoever from behind your back if they caught them looking at you weird. They thought they were looking out for you much like you did for them as they stood on either side of you like two towering towers.

After all they didn’t have that many friends besides each other form such a young and so having you in their corner made you all the more special to the brothers.

You and Stan would playfully rough house, doddle in the margins of a notebook or write in code that you’ve only just made up on the spot to one, another and just do dumb goofy stuff in your spare time.

You and Ford would read, come up with theories about the things in New Jersey to make them more interesting than they were, go on a ‘monster chase of the week’ type of adventures when you were bored and in need of thrills.

Stan and Ford were your boys and you would have their backs no matter what as they always had yours in return. Much how like you made Cathy’s life hell after she threw punch at Ford, thinking that standing in solidarity with him as you and Stan both threw punch at each other and making a right ass of yourselves in order to make Ford feel better.

You and Stan then tp’d the bitches house and probably caused property damage but if they couldn’t see the person who did it, then did it actually happened in the first place? (Stans logical explanation to why tp someone’s house in the dead of night was a great guise.)

Or the time you had gotten stood up on a date and Stan threatened the beat the little shit up while Ford - equally as upset at the coward who stood you up- was more focused on comforting you and reminding you of your self worth and how it should be dictated by you alone and not some temporary crush.

You thought that it would be you, Ford and Stanley against everyone, that you’d get to live with them until you were old and grey but life ultimately took you and Ford in different directions from Stanley, who at this point had resorted to conning people for a living after being kicked out of the house by his cunt of a father.

The rift between the brothers that you though wouldn’t split from another for more then five minutes was larger then you’d like to admit, and it broke your heart to see them stand across from one another rather then beside each other.

Your parents refused to take him in afterwards despite your begging and pleading that you’ll do better in school if they house Stanley for a while. Needless to say you were gutted about not having your friend in your life that you didn’t take to your parents for a good while.

You did fairly well in school and ended up in Backupsmore university with Ford, who found a new friend in fiddleford and spent countless days and nights in the library doing extensive studies on the abnormal and the mysterious. You and Ford didn’t have as much time for each other as you use to as kids, that and you couldn’t contact Stanley who was god knows where, god knows what and getting into a fuckton of trouble. You missed it when days were a hell of a lot more simpler but that’s not how life worked and you were being told this constantly.

Ford was excelling at everything while you were average at best and while Ford tried to help, he could tell your heart wasn’t in to listening what he had to say and he knew the reason why.

‘You miss Stan.’ He says one day when you came to his dorm for help.

‘And you don’t seem to miss him one bit.’ You replied as you doodled a cartoon version of yourself, Stan and Ford celebrating a well earned victory over some weird lake monster that had a comedically large bump on it head.

‘He ruined his own life y/n why can’t you accept that.’ He reminds you but it was obvious that you weren’t so willing to hear him out as you use to be. ‘I could’ve helped him Ford, I could’ve!’ You cried.

‘But he didn’t want your help, he was on the path of self destruction and he didn’t want you getting caught in the aftermath of it all.’ Ford said as he placed his hand on your shoulder, much like you did to him when you were younger. ‘Stan is stubborn but wouldn’t avoid you for no reason.’ Ford adds as you look at him.

‘And how would you know that?’ You asked, brow raised.

‘Because I wouldn’t avoid you for no reason either.’ Ford admitted and you swore your saw a blush cut across his face. This conversation never gets brought up again by Ford as no matter how often you reminded him of it, he’s try to change the subject to something else entirely with a nervous laugh and shifty eyes.

You knew something was up and hated being left in the dark but you knew Ford was equally as stubborn as his brother, whether that’s something he’d like to admit or not. However life moved on and so did you as soon you found yourself becoming Ford’s assistant and moving to Gravity Falls, a small town not on any map but had a reputation for being a little odd much like its residence.

[firestars-five]

Territory

Known to the humans as Grandview Forest (or Wailing Wraith Woods to some), it is a hiking destination occupied by four colonies of cats.

Notable and neutral landmarks include:

Twolegplace - Known by Twolegs as Grove City, the Twolegplace is home to Twolegs, kittypets, dogs, and monsters. Borders the Thunder and Shadow Colonies to the west. 

Treecut Place - Known by Twolegs as Happy Holly-days Tree Farm. Active during leaf-fall and leaf-bare and an occasional hunting ground for the Thunder Colony. Borders the Thunder Colony. 

Highstones - A long-abandoned quarry in the mountains. It’s home to the Moonstone, where oracles meet with the Ancestors every other half-moon. 

Fourtrees - A hollow with four massive oak trees. The Colonies gather here every moon to share news and trade goods. 

Windover Farm - A farm near Wind territory that is home to two loners; Barley and Piper. 

Morgan’s Farm - A farm in River territory that is home to three loners; Sunny, Spooky, and Splash.

The Growling Thunder Colony

Located in the southeastern part of the forest. Borders the Shadows to the north, Rivers to the southwest, and WInds to the west. Notable landmarks include:

Sandy Hollow - A training ground for apprentices located close to camp. It’s surrounded by new elms and lined with bushes and soft reddish sand. 

The Great Sycamore - A mighty sycamore near the Shadow border. Apprentices practice climbing and occasionally stalking here. The tree was said to sprout from the remains of Boulderclaw and his mate Wetfoot. 

Snakerocks - A pile of rocks home to venomous snakes. During leaf-bare, it is used for hunting. Otherwise, it is mostly avoided, outside of finding herbs, although the Graves are always preferred. Apprentices are banned from approaching without a warrior around. 

Owl Tree - An oddly tall maple tree home to a moody Long-Eared owl nicknamed Honey. Rumored to be a hunting ground for restless spirits. 

The Graves - An old Twoleg burial site with three graves. Thunder Colony oracles grow most of their plants here. 

The Lurking Shadow Colony

Located in the northeastern part of the forest. Borders the Thunder and Wind Colonies to the south and southwest. 

The Burnt Sycamore - An ancient tree that was struck by lightning long ago. Apprentices do most of their training here. 

Star’s Blessing - A small garden cared for by Shadow oracles. The Blazing Star flower that was used in ancient times only grows here. 

Ratplace - A Twoleg dump site. The Shadows rarely use it as hunting grounds due to Twolegs, dogs, rats, and diseases. Apprentices are forbidden from nearing this place.

The Tranquil River Colony

Located in the southwest part of the forest. Borders the Thunder Colony to the northeast and Wind Colony to the north. 

Night Falls - A steep gorge and a waterfall that separates the River and Wind Colonies. Cats are banned from nearing here alone. 

Finch Meadow - A small meadow with a stream running through it. It’s the only part of the territory that rarely floods. Apprentices practice swimming here. 

Beech Copse - A thicket of beech trees that overlooks Finch Meadow. Apprentices do their regular training here. 

Abandoned Nest - An abandoned Twoleg nest that functions as the River’s second camp in times of flooding. Also doubles as a garden for River oracles. 

Twisted Tree - A twisted honey locust tree. The River Colony often gets their lumber from here.

Twoleg Camp - A Twoleg camp near the bridge used from late new-leaf to early leaf-fall. 

The bridge - A bridge sometimes used by the Rivers (and Thunders) when the river is at its highest. 

The Whispering Wind Colony 

Located in the western part of the forest. Borders the Rivers to the south, Shadows to the northeast, and Thunders to the east. 

Outlook Rock - A tall rock that overlooks almost the entire territory. Scouts are here day and night.

Midnight’s Haven - An abandoned badger sett that is the main entrance of the tunnels, the entrance to the Wind Colony's underground camp, and a popular hunting spot.

Wind’s Peak - A walnut tree located near the camp. Thought to be Windstar’s final resting place. 

Bluecoat Rocks - An easy hunting spot due to reptiles of all kinds adoring these sunny stones.

[skyhavens]

PROMPT : Campfire. DRAGON AGE: THE VEILGUARD ERA. Words: 1202. Characters: Kehda Mercar, Bellara Lutare, Lucanis Dellamorte.

“Join us, Kehda.”

“Yes, join us, join us!”

Around a crackling fire on one of the many white sandy beaches of Rivain, Lucanis and Bellara sat with their bodies turned towards the expertly kindled flames – not for heat, given how balmy the air was around them, but for dinner. The two rarely agreed on matters of the kitchen, given that their tastes were so vastly different, but here, they were both out of their element.

Rockcod, skewered through with sticks wet with saltwater and held over the flames until their skin bubbled and crisped. Flatbread, warmed on Lucanis’s trusty iron pan beside the fire, covered in a salty-sweet smear made of white cheese they’d purchased in Llomerryn and the sticky dates that had kept Kehda’s sweet tooth in check for the better part of the last week of travel. In front of Bellara on a pretty orange mat sat a spread of fruits and other tidbits that she both could and could not recognize by sight alone.

The nuts were the most familiar. Otho had imported similar treats for himself from all across Thedas – almonds from Southern Tevinter, beech nuts from the Marches, chestnuts from Ferelden. Her favorites were the peanuts he’d have brought in from Antiva, but Otho’s greatest weakness was for Rivaini walnuts. 

Kehda knew of papaya, as well, but her knowledge stopped short just there.

“Everything smells delicious,” she offered to the both of them as she plopped down onto the sand beside Bellara, stretching out her short legs and digging her toes into the sand. Everything was so warm in Rivain – the wind, the rain, the sand. The part of her that loathed sweating yearned for southern Thedas. “Before the expedition is over, you’ll have me begging for just one more fish.”

Lucanis chuckled at that. Then, they all did.

READ THE REST ON AO3.

[quinndominion]

Urns, Urns, Everywhere. And sometimes Un-Armed Statues.

Another hitch. But not with the set dressing so much. I realised that none of my Widespot men had body hair, so I guess the controller wasn't in the files when i first loaded up Past Widespot. Which is weird...that's staple cc, goes with me in every setup. And Nelson has his... (Maybe I did altSurgery to get them re-costumed? Would that do it? Remove their overlays?) Anyway, had to switch over to Widespot proper to find out which body hair they each usually have. (Even though I have no present intentions of re-shooting a damn thing...I know I might once i've pruned all the pics and it's only one or two where a hairless arm is visible.)

But I was still, am still, in the game with the cc for RESPECT for which I only carried over some stuff from my Widespot folder so...urns...

...more urns...and a whole lotta statues. I don't even know what any of these are meant to be replacing. Around the pool especially. The fence is intact, so what else was there? This house doesn't exist yet in the timeline I'm working on so it couldn't possibly matter. But seeing this has had the knock on effect of making me less obsessive about the floating artifact at the Beech house. I mean, I did save and move on like I said, but I could sense my brain still trying to solve the mystery of the missing cc. And now it's just like, eh, whatever. Could be worse.

And while I was at it, a few pics of Wrong Widespot.

So...Rich has a want to drink Lana...and a fear of being struck by lightning. Actually worried about a smiting there, Rich?

It's funny to me because I was just writing an aside about Rich's willingness to dispose of his women who displease him. But actually giving him the benefit of the doubt (of a sort) to the extent that once he considers them disposable they become simultaneously not worth the bother. Maybe I was wrong?

Even though Una's got such distinctive features - like, this couldn't be any other baby - the randomised hair and that dress make her look very not-Una to me.

Same with Penny. No one else's Penny looks remotely like mine, if only because she's not green. But even though the genetic cc is intact and probably most of her makeup, she still doesn't really feel quite like my Penny.

She also happens to want to be struck by lightning here. My Penny seldom asserts her knowledge-sim-ism like that. And she wants to flirt with Rhett and invite him over? Like, what, really? Let's get you back into your own proper world and, hopefully, proper mind, pronto.

Dora popping up in this scarf is, unfortunately, giving me ideas. But, we'll see.

Aw no, Daytona, no. Why they do that to you? This hair on her is like her worst nightmare vision of completely losing her sense of self and all her pride in her old age. It's not even grey, it's platinum blonde! Almost like she's trying to emulate that ex mother-in-law of her son's and came up far short of the mark. And Sandy's mother was a woman that she could not stand, by the way. So this really is like nightmare fuel. "Get this damn wig offa me! And don't you dare show this to nobody." Too late.

[chaotically-genderfluid]

@your-average-art-dealer warriors names go.

Mei - Greenwisker

Sandy - Sandystream

Azure (actually this was one of the first names I thought of) - Bluemane

Peng - Swiftclaw

Yellowtusk - Yellowtooth (bit too similar to Yellowfang but what can I do)

LBD (I can see her being a rouge) - Ghost

Jin - Goldfur

Yin - Silverfur

DBK - Boulderbite

PIF - Breezestep

Red - okay ik you have a name for him already, but hear me out, SINGESNAP.

Nezha - Lotusleaf

i’d make more if i wasn’t at the beech ;-;

[n8eulchen-sims2]

Widespot: 20 Jahre später (1)

Widespot ist die chaotischste Nachbarschaft, die ich je gespielt habe. Jeder hat irgendwie mit jedem Affären und Babies, sodass aus Widespot quasi eine große Familie geworden ist:)

Fam. Weiss:

Skye Weiss (Senior) lebte mit seinen Alienkindern Penny (Erwachsene) und Woody (Teenager) allein.

20 Jahre später:

Inzwischen wurde das Haus mehrfach renoviert und umgestaltet.

Skye erreichte die Spitze der Wissenschaftskarriere, maximierte seine Logikfähigkeit, erlebte eine kurze Romanze mit einem weiblichen Townie und starb schließlich an Altersschwäche.

Penny hat zwei Söhne, Alfred und Cornelius, von zwei verschiedenen Vätern. Neben Alfreds Vater Rhett Hart hatte Penny Affären mit Valentine Hart (Vater von Rhett), Rocky Beech und River Land. Letztendlich entschied sie sich dafür Rhett zu heiraten und seinen Namen anzunehmen. Außerdem nahm sie eine Stelle in der Bildungskarriere an und ist inzwischen Hilfslehrerin (Lvl 3).

Woody ist inzwischen Erwachsen und hat als Romantiksim trotz seiner Verlobung mit Goldie Hart einige Romanzen am laufen: Virginia Beech, Goldies Schwester Candy Hart, Lana Mann, Dixie Land und einige Townies. Kein Wunder, dass bei all seinen Abenteuern irgendwann einmal ein Unfall passiert. Sein Unfall heißt Phil Hart und der Grund, warum er sich mit Goldie verlobt hat. Woody ist außerdem Ritter der Tafelrunde (Lvl 6 der Unterhaltungsbranche)

Alfred Hart wurde zu Beginn des Spiels geboren und ist inzwischen junger Erwachsener und auf dem College. Er hat bereits dir Körperfähigkeit maximiert. Sein erstes Mal hatte er mit Mary Land. Sie war bereits erwachsen, er noch ein Teenager und das ganze ist durch einen autonomen Bootycall entstanden.

Cornelius Hart ist Pennys zweites Kind und der Sohn von Valentine Hart, der Vater seines Stiefvaters. Er ist inzwischen Teenager und 3er-Schüler.

Außerdem hat die Familie den Rüden Buddy adoptiert.

Rhett Hart ist nach der Hochzeit mit Penny in den Weiss-Haushalt gezogen. Er ist der Sohn von Valentine Hart. Auch er hat einiges an Affären aufzuweisen: Sandy Beech, deren Tochter Virginia Beech, und drei weibliche Townies. Er ist der Vater von Alfred und außerdem von Florentina und Bobby Beech. Er ist freiberuflicher Webdesigner (Lvl 9 der Faulenzerkarriere) und damit kurz davor seinen Lebenswunsch zu erfüllen.

[ellupelluellu]

Beech

As I mentioned before, playing few rounds with LGU families changed how things are.

I play now wants based, and Sandy for example rolled "play with Rocky" , "Virginia gets A+" and Jane Gutenberg becomes best friend and calling Jane. Nothing on Rhett yet.

I take the suitcase as hint for a weekend vacation soon.

[lasudio]

VeronaHills, Round Twelve: Beech

The busy Beeches dove into different ways to refill their cups.

Hamilton sank into bubble baths, a favourite since he was a baby, and even now, well beyond. He wished he could tell mum about his recently-earned cosmetology certification, specialising in natural hair. She would've done a photo op in his salon chair for sure. Voters would've loved the wholesome family angle.

The drops of lavender oil in the bathwater hadn't diverted the thoughts of a former campaign manager. Relaxation just couldn't win against a racing mind and heart sometimes. Hamilton swirled his floating limbs in the heat. Coulda, shoulda, woulda. All that jazz.

Sandy's relaxation was just a little more active - on her feet at the easel on the porch. She became quite the Bob Ross disciple; her phone overheated from the videos she loaded and rewound for guidance on making her own happy accidents on canvas. When the phone had to be sent off for a battery replacement, Sandy decided to find her own subject to paint. She visited the well in their garden and hauled up the bucket that would have once watered a village. Nowaways it was a rustic reminder of time gone by, and a very aesthetic one at that.

"This is my study of decay in the water," Sandy narrated to Brady as she swept her first brushstrokes. His tail gave an affirming nod and he shuffled a little to be more comfortable at her feet. She was only painting for herself but it was nice to have an audience member who unconditionally approved of her output.

The kids were impressed too. Rocky returned from a walk and raved about how cool it was to immortalise the well. Sandy reminded him of his play-pretend as a ye olde villager fetching water when he was younger; it was nice to have a chuckle about adorable memories. Daytona's death had been a bit of wet blanket across the household for a while, especially with Virginia's vivacity being spread across Mission University. Her visits home were a welcome addition to the overall vibe of the Beech cottage.

Perhaps a preference shift from politics to peace was transpiring.

[wickedjr89gaming]

Sandy needs money, stat! She doesn't work at her culinary job for a couple days but bills are coming before then! So, this is what she does. Guaranteed money. Sandy is not a slacker. A cheater, yes. Slacker, no.

[widespot]

Beech

Turns out, Wallys doesn't have to get himself together enough to ask a girl out if she gets herself together enough to ask him out! Kissing on Dawn is different from kissing on Olivia is different from kissing on Portia, but it's all good. He'll have to watch his back at school today, though. Can't kiss one with another in line of sight.

"Aren't you going to be late for work, dear?" "Nope. I'm taking today off so I can help you in the store, since Virginia won't be there." "Okay. That's very thoughtful of you." That has "potential disaster" written all over it. She'll need to hire somebody new soon. Not that she isn't delighted that Virginia's finally getting somewhere in her chosen profession.

The first thing Hamilton does at the store is chow down on some churros he finds in the fridge. After all, nobody's shown up yet.

Sandy doesn't waste time making her pitch as soon as anybody comes in the door, though. (No, the counter isn't supposed to be for sale. I keep forgetting to fix that.)

"Hold on, hold on -" "What happened to my neighbor? The little red-haired one? I thought she worked here." "My daughter, I'll have you know, has moved on to better things and will soon be a great star of stage and screen."

Ooh, newlywed with money just walked through the door! "This thing has a state-of-the-art icemaker. No more ice cubes spewing out onto the floor!"

Wow, this whole family loves appliances!

[penig]

"This is not how I expected the first day of my honeymoon to go…but we'll have time."

"Eggrolls for breakfast?" "Brilliant, right? Anyhow, it's not exactly breakfast."

It's dark by the time they go out again to sample the local color. Wow, that guy has a neat trick! Wonder how it's done? Where's his tip jar?

At Sandy's insistence, they all undertake to dress in the local costume. "You're not gonna fit in like that, though, son!"

Wallys had hoped for some exotic beauties to hang with, but so far, not so much.

"I really don't think the chopper adds to the experience!" "What?!"

[idleseas-ops]

The late summer air is comfortably balmy and still today as we meander down the North end of Green Road. Our footsteps are muffled by the sandy two-track that splits the forest in two, as if into separate biomes. To our right, and the West, is a second-growth forest of beech and oak, it’s canopy a brilliant stained glass cathedral of autumnal colors in beams of golden sunlight cascading down to the ferns below, with with wood thrushes and bluejays and northern peewees for a chorus.

To our left, on the east of the road, stands hundreds of identical rows of stock-straight, scraggly, sickly-looking pine trees, each and every one more sparse and pathetic looking than the last. Together, they look like a clone-brushed swath of a badly manipulated photo, like an AI generated post on r/nosleep, "What if the backrooms was in the woods?" Little else grows on this side of the forest, and even the trees themselves have few branches to identify them by, all of them clustered loosely at the top of their matchstick trunks, stripped bare and flaking the rest of the way down to their roots.

Still, taken together, the forest as a whole is beautiful, even in it’s more liminal spaces. This is our favorite place in the world, and the two of us are happy to be taking such a lovely walk today, enjoying the weather, and one another’s company, taking turns photographing any weird fungi we find with my camera. This is only one of many noteworthy things we’ve seen here; a bobcat sauntering down the road in broad daylight, clouds of golden pollen wafting from pine trees, a hummingbird alighting on hammock ties, the night sky aflame with northern lights.

This very stretch of road— though further south a bit— was where Bellamy and I originally met, group camping with mutual friends at a site affectionately (and appropriately) dubbed ‘Fairyland.' In the two years since, we’d spent every possible moment camping together in the back of my car- a peeling but sturdy Nissan that has served my family for almost two decades- though camping is not what we're doing out here today.

This time of year is idyllic. It’s September, so the tourists have gone home, the snowbirds have begun to flee south, and most of the townies are back to their typical routines with kids now back in school, thankfully including the ATV enthusiasts who often speed through here late at night. Tourists still come for the Fall Color Tour, but being as it’s hard to predict when it will begin or end, it’s a much smaller rush than the steady stream of summer vacationers that has now ceased.

We have had several miles of this road to ourselves for days, so we are a little surprised, though not unpleasantly, when we see another hiker coming towards us up the road. He looks from one side of the road to the other with a fond familiarity, like someone might appraise an old neighborhood they once called home.

He veers towards us and we exchange a pleasant greeting. The weather has put us all in a kindly mood. He gestures around broadly as he asks, are we from around here?

Bellamy and I exchange a quick glance, the question hanging unspoken between us. The small, rural towns in this area rely heavily on that good old “Midwest hospitality” which is, of course, not a type of hospitality at all; when you’re a vulnerable minority in these places, being honest can be dangerous.

But forest people are different. Someone who waits for the off season to visit the deep woods, and who comes alone, came out here specifically to find peace and connection with other living things.

Put another way: there are plenty of locals who wouldn’t have approached two visibly queer people if we were the last ones on Earth, let alone the only other two people in the forest.

I look back at our new friend and, after a moment of deliberation, decide he passes the initial vibe check. He has a kind face.

“We live here,” I tell him, gesturing broadly towards our campsite. “We’ve been living our car for about two months now, but we are locals originally, yeah.”

His jaw drops with a polite amount of awe. "Oh, no way! W-?” He peers through the trees to spot our vehicle, wine red still visible through the trees to a vigilant eye.

We give him the abridged version; Bel’s family evicted us, and we had no other prospects. We are too disabled to work. We had nowhere else to go. We were lucky to have national forest so close by, and one we were already familiar with.

Of course, choosing to disclose that you’re queer and trans is a risk above and beyond disclosing homelessness. I have already chosen to lay bare one of those things. The rest doesn’t need to be said. I figure he can read between the lines.

Our new friend listens to our saga with a due amount of reverence, gasping in shock and offering sentiments of disgust and disbelief that our communities would fail us this way, and comments what a tragedy it is that it's happening to so many people since Covid began, especially with the cost of living, and with the class stratification only growing steeper each year…

My vibe check was sound after all; this guy is with it and cool as hell. We immediately like him.

We ask him of himself. What brings him to this neck of the woods, quite literally? He tells us he is a horticulturist back in Ann Arbor, a famously accepting and diverse, but deeply expensive place to live, so he is sympathetic in more than one way (and I was right about reading between the lines; he himself mentions the lack of queer acceptance in rural communities and families like ours).

Though he was doing what he thought was once his dream job, he found himself increasingly disenchanted with it, working more and more with hoity-toity, wealthy landowners and their landscaping projects, rather than to protect natural areas like this one.

He had been traveling up to Nordhouse for decades to camp and hike, and the reason he had flagged us down today was to ask about the changes to Green Road. How familiar were we with this area over the past few years, and did we know what had changed lately? He had been coming here for decades, and it was virtually unrecognizable to him now.

He's in luck; our time spent camping, and now living, together out here means we are just the guys he wanted to meet, and have detailed answers to most of his questions. We are eager to lament the blocking off of trails for private property and cottage rentals; parcels of national forest land being sold and clear-cut, as well as clear-cutting around and widening roads; and an increase in signage, new two-tracks, and DNR presence along with increased overall traffic, owing to the discovery of Green Road of van life and camping apps. This very road has been cut off just ahead. Where once it used to connect to another trail further on, our campsite now marks the end of the road, along with a six-foot mound of dirt and some very clear signage.

He shakes his head sadly, and we all lament the mismanagement of the forest. To my absolute and utter delight, he motions to the soldier-like pines on the other side of the road as an example. We talk about how, when the CCC was mobilized, one of the things they did was plant millions of trees… the same type of tree, over and over and over, in identical little rows, in a very poor attempt to 'reforest' the devastation of the Midwest fire, logging and mining industries.

As many of these seemingly well-intentioned efforts do, they did not use a particularly well-suited species for this, nor did they pay any heed to biodiversity or what lived here before. They simply planted billions of the same type of tree in a massive monocrop that was, contrary to it's image of reforestation, often sold back to the lumber companies in due time.

The lack of biodiversity means an ecological dead zone in the forest, something one can sense even if one knows nothing about biology. hiking through that part of the forest is eerie. In the scraggly, too-orderly rows of pines, the birds don't sing. What sounds you do hear echo unnaturally above you, yet your footsteps are weirdly muffled by the endless bed of dry pine needles. The sunlight that filters through the patchy canopy feels weak and smoky. You feel far too exposed, as if something is watching you from just beyond the bend in the rows of trees, just past where you can see. It makes the hairs rise on the back of your neck and arms.

As soon as you pass back into the normal part of the forest you release so much tension you didn't notice you were holding, and realize you can hear birds and bugs and wind passing through the trees again. Like stepping between a sepia photo and full color video.

Having my disproportionate hatred for that chunk of woods validated by a horticulturist has made me giddy, and we commiserate about the state of the forest for some time.

Probably only 15 minutes have passed when he decides it’s time to be on his way, and us on ours; but he thanks us for stopping to talk to him. Our conversation has been intriguing for all of us, and we all seem to take heart from one another's company.

We are glad for it, too; we have had a dearth of normal and friendly interactions with people in general since becoming homeless. I will never forget the bit of “advice” we got from someone manning a booth for a therapy practice at a suicide prevention event, who suggested we merely buy or rent land to escape homelessness.

Even a conversation as simple and brief as this feels nourishing by comparison, like a hearty, homecooked meal for the soul. It’s nice to be treated like a person. It’s nice to be asked about our observations and to have our opinions respected even after disclosing that we are homeless.

As we move to part ways, the stranger pauses for a moment, palms together at his lips, brow furrowed. He is thinking very deeply, and choosing his last words with great care.

"I hope you guys thrive. I really do."

I realize only after we part ways that we never even exchanged our names.