#short grass prairie

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Wagonhound is my favorite rest stop along 80 in Wyoming, about the halfway point of my journey. The views here are always absolutely incredible. The wind is furious, though, with gusts over 40mph. Had to make a hasty retreat after these photos; guess I'm not cut out to be roaming around the hills with the coyotes and the elk.

[appalachianfuturism]

“It is simply impossible to overstate both the importance of the buffalo to the Indian people and the damage that was done when the buffalo were nearly wiped out,” ITBC President Ervin Carlson said in a statement. “By helping tribes reestablish buffalo herds on our reservation lands, the Congress will help us reconnect with a keystone of our historic culture as well as create jobs and an important source of protein that our people truly need.”

[ghostoffuturespast]

23 August 2024 - Friday Field Notes

Paint Mines Interpretive Park - Sometimes there are rocks on the prairie.

Apparently, those geological formations, the spires of rock formed by erosion, are referred to as hoodoos.

Hoodoos and haboobs, there ya go.

[chillydownhere2]

Beautiful Bliss...

Canadian Geese on the Prairies of Oklahoma

Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge

[incognito-princess]

Never say that the short grass prairie of the high plains aren't beautiful!!!

[a herd of American bison frolic on a green expanse of short grass prairie. The sun is setting and the end of a rainbow shines against scattered stratus clouds. A meadowlark sings.]

[michael-massa-micon]

High Prairie - June 2023 About two hours north of Salt River Gorge, we came upon something I didn’t expect, a high prairie. The rolling hills were covered with short prairie grass typical of arid areas and seemed to stretch out for miles. I took this image through the windshield as I drove with my Nikon P500. MWM

[reasonsforhope]

In the Willamette Valley of Oregon, the long study of a butterfly once thought extinct has led to a chain reaction of conservation in a long-cultivated region.

The conservation work, along with helping other species, has been so successful that the Fender’s blue butterfly is slated to be downlisted from Endangered to Threatened on the Endangered Species List—only the second time an insect has made such a recovery.

[Note: "the second time" is as of the article publication in November 2022.]

To live out its nectar-drinking existence in the upland prairie ecosystem in northwest Oregon, Fender’s blue relies on the help of other species, including humans, but also ants, and a particular species of lupine.

After Fender’s blue was rediscovered in the 1980s, 50 years after being declared extinct, scientists realized that the net had to be cast wide to ensure its continued survival; work which is now restoring these upland ecosystems to their pre-colonial state, welcoming indigenous knowledge back onto the land, and spreading the Kincaid lupine around the Willamette Valley.

First collected in 1929 [more like "first formally documented by Western scientists"], Fender’s blue disappeared for decades. By the time it was rediscovered only 3,400 or so were estimated to exist, while much of the Willamette Valley that was its home had been turned over to farming on the lowland prairie, and grazing on the slopes and buttes.

Pictured: Female and male Fender’s blue butterflies.

Now its numbers have quadrupled, largely due to a recovery plan enacted by the Fish and Wildlife Service that targeted the revival at scale of Kincaid’s lupine, a perennial flower of equal rarity. Grown en-masse by inmates of correctional facility programs that teach green-thumb skills for when they rejoin society, these finicky flowers have also exploded in numbers.

[Note: Okay, I looked it up, and this is NOT a new kind of shitty greenwashing prison labor. This is in partnership with the Sustainability in Prisons Project, which honestly sounds like pretty good/genuine organization/program to me. These programs specifically offer incarcerated people college credits and professional training/certifications, and many of the courses are written and/or taught by incarcerated individuals, in addition to the substantial mental health benefits (see x, x, x) associated with contact with nature.]

The lupines needed the kind of upland prairie that’s now hard to find in the valley where they once flourished because of the native Kalapuya people’s regular cultural burning of the meadows.

While it sounds counterintuitive to burn a meadow to increase numbers of flowers and butterflies, grasses and forbs [a.k.a. herbs] become too dense in the absence of such disturbances, while their fine soil building eventually creates ideal terrain for woody shrubs, trees, and thus the end of the grassland altogether.

Fender’s blue caterpillars produce a little bit of nectar, which nearby ants eat. This has led over evolutionary time to a co-dependent relationship, where the ants actively protect the caterpillars. High grasses and woody shrubs however prevent the ants from finding the caterpillars, who are then preyed on by other insects.

Now the Confederated Tribes of Grand Ronde are being welcomed back onto these prairie landscapes to apply their [traditional burning practices], after the FWS discovered that actively managing the grasslands by removing invasive species and keeping the grass short allowed the lupines to flourish.

By restoring the lupines with sweat and fire, the butterflies have returned. There are now more than 10,000 found on the buttes of the Willamette Valley."

-via Good News Network, November 28, 2022

[pinkrelish]

Eddie and miss mouse doing missionary with his hands beside her head and she grabs his wrists moving her head side to side moaning and him begging her to look at him in the eye 👁️

ugh, yes. 18+ sweet, romantic smut [wc: 1.4k]

humming praise along your jaw, he asks from his husky throat not yet warmed from dawn, “please, baby,” and you nod, “—don't wantcha missin' your god.”

oh, how you explore him without sight, skimming your fingers over the smooth length of his back, planes of muscle filling your palms with steady breaths. from the sway which dips with each long draw of his hips. up bumps of spine, curve of ribcage. contrasts of solid strength feeding into the hidden lurch beneath his skin, subtle contours shifting and flowing in sync with his lazy thrusts. shoulders. working man shoulders, broadened by time and labor, flexing under your loose grip. hard shapes for your hands to find; groove of his delt, swell of his bicep. strong arms beginning to shake.

you lower your sightless study to his forearms. fingertips grazing through prairie grass hair leading you over the ridge of an at-home tattoo and through the field of faint scars. upon his knuckles, you widen your reach to encompass them all, falling short. falling weak. falling, falling.

stability was found in his mighty palm to your cheek. stifling hot, big, and rough with character. everything familiar you sought in a home, cherishing the doorway between forefinger and thumb, trailing open kisses to the bed of his palm—three pecks for good luck, and one to grow on—then feasting on the meat above his wrist, and bathing your warm tongue over the rest.

"makin' you feel good?" eddie checks to inflate his ego, brimming with amusement. "or's here better?" his abs brace, his knees move in, and your body clings to a shiver. "mm, right there, huh?" his tender tease flows into the kindest sigh.

he peels his stomach off yours, chilling your combined sweat and tightening your nipples with the rush of air. sharp teeth flirt on the pulse beneath your ear as he adjusts, uncoordinated, rocking an arm under your shoulder and tugging the fitted sheet loose on the mattress; his other hand slips up to cradle your head, protecting you from the old oak headboard while your pillow lifts your hips.

the position loads his weight where he pins you best—embraced in his arms, wholly respected. your leglock around his ass restricts him down to a fraction of his long draw from before. he understands. the ache he stirred with his practiced fingers crooked between your thighs reached a yearn for something bigger, and when he sank into you, half an hour ago, you expressed your satisfaction in a whisper-thin gasp. "that's it," he kissed. to be stretched by his head notched at your opening, easing in, splitting you, fulfilling you, reaching a depth which was made for him. "that's fuckin' it," he moans in the present when you clench firmer around him.

the pretty noises you made then, when he could last, earned his pride. now, they spur his pace.

you dig your heels into his backside and cradle him close, tilting your hips; wet friction grinding bliss against your core. the warmth of his body smothers you, and the wiry hair above his solid base follows the same quick roll, lapping at you like his tongue. you seek foundation beyond the darkness of your eyelids, turning your mouth to the hand on your shoulder, sucking a kiss on the peak of knuckles. his polished skill between your legs spark deep, fluttering moans. the angle was a work of trial and error over the years, but eddie was ever diligent to learn—eager, you'd say—to delay his release, and build yours.

consuming throbs of hot pleasure pulse within you. each stroke is better than the last. the pillow, the angle, the extra twitch of his cock when you squeeze around him just right. you were—"eddie, i'm—"

"look at me, baby," he asks, and you switch to pursuing his other hand, slotting your small fingers through the gaps where he worsened your bedhead. "open your eyes. wanna look at you," he laughs, mashing his nose along the blooming fever on your cheek, draping his curls over you both. it takes all your strength to answer him in an inarticulate whine, nestling into his palm until he understands the message and caresses his thumb over your temple. "please," he begs. you try. yet, he demands, stern voice pooling molten lust where he delivers relentless smacks of skin, "look at me when i'm your god."

your eyes fly open.

sleepy blue on the cusp of yawning orange presses through the thin curtains. light floods his smugness in swings between his long hair, stupid shadowed grin glinting in the daybreak. his curls tickle in sweeps across your cheeks, and at once, your weak limbs are threaded in the space where your chests press, and you're bringing him down for a rough kiss, teeth to lips, dirty like the sounds drowning out the birdsong.

muffled moans grow loud as he pulls away, just enough to adore you in the cage of his arms, watching you battle the haze while his eyes shine from vanity. his muscles burn from fatigue, and his smile interrupts his panting, cutting each labored breath with a stutter, but he keeps going, chasing the reason your expression pinches.

it comes on so strong, so fast, you clamp down on him hard, and though he expects it, eddie's whine is punched from his lungs, surprising you both. the pretty sound lends you strength, and he nearly collapses from every wet ridge massaging him as he grinds slow and steady in your heat, driven deeper by your assertive legs forcing him to bite his tongue as you rode out your high. he's dying. "baby," he pleas, nose to nose, forehead to forehead, sweat mixing on his damp bangs, soft body squirming under his, "y'look so fuckin' hot. can i?" poor boy asking to finish.

you soothe him in circles scratched on his scalp while he stills from motion, sighs jumping in time with the aftershocks pulsing on his length. the feeling of weightlessness was taking over. showing mercy, you release him, and he rises. careful as he can be in this state. fast, fast, fast, hiking you higher on the pillow and keeping you in place with one hand on your hip and the other cupped under your thigh, dimpling shadows in the sunrise. strong torso between your legs, top of his stomach flexing on every slap, sending ripples over your skin. light penetrates the center of the curtains to paint his beauty. flushed red, head dropped forward, messy hair kissing his shoulders, long lashes marrying, succumbing to whatever his body decides. watching himself slide into you, mouth hanging open at the sight of your pussy gripping him as he rocks back, upper lip lifting at the sheen of cream coating the base of his slick cock, eyebrows scrunching from the honor.

he picks up the urgency in which he's fucking you, each moan cracking higher.

"look at me," you break his concentration, voice not as powerful as his. he obeys, and the connection races an extra heartbeat in your chest, throat gone tight from the sense of accomplishment.

nothing compares to the flattery of his lidded gaze fighting to stay open as his warning comes late, already spilling into you.

wicked heat spreads in waves, burning your cheeks, pumping your reward in arrhythmic pulses. his tip is oversensitive and red when he pulls out, covered in a beautiful shine. he gives you the pillow, and adjusts himself so his length follows your stomach; though he takes a sharp inhale at the sensation; and lays on top of you, stretching his legs between yours. the magnitude of his understated working-man muscles go lax. amalgamating scents of sex encompass the tangle. birdsong rings through the blood rush. you hum, he hums.

"love starting our days like this."

"mhmm."

you revisit discovering him without sight. his weight limits your movement as he catches his breath from his efforts, but you encircle his middle. trace the tacky skin along his spine, roll your head to feel his curly hair sticking to the dew on your neck, rub your foot along his hairy calf. you lean up to press your lips to the salty crest of his shoulder, and end the motion when thick honey drips to the bedsheets. his spent self softens on your belly. you almost drift into a dream. "you're so corny with the 'god' line," you complain in a whisper, only a tad annoyed, and he sweetens you with his full lips smacking a noisy kiss to your cheek.

"yeah, but it worked," he replies, voice retaining its rasp from sleep, yet sporting a teasing rise, "and you still love me."

"and i still love you," you yield, rolling your closed eyes.

"do you?"

"i do."

"good," he huffs, "didn't wanna lose my grocery shopping partner."

you roll your closed eyes harder.

[tomblythismyhusband]

flowers [billy the kid x fem!reader]

[summary]: billy the kid x fem!reader | You and Billy enjoy a sunny afternoon out in the flower fields to get away from the pressures of life.

[warnings]: just fluff :)

[wc]: 890

[note]: little blurb i wrote so it’s kinda short, basically just imagining what it would be like to lay in a field with billy…. sigh….

Sun kissed and happy.

That’s all you were at this moment. Your body in the strong arms of your lover, Billy as you both sprawled out in a vast field of daisies. The warmth of the summer sun danced upon your skin as you laid on the soft grass.

Billy had taken you out early that morning to this little spot out on the prairie. “We won’t get caught here.” He had said with a smile. You trusted him.

Obviously, being romantically involved with an infamous outlaw had its down sides but Billy always made it up to you. Anytime that he could do something for you, he would. Whether it was leaving little gifts by your doorstep or sneaking you out of your Pa’s house, he always worked hardest to make you feel loved.

And now, laying in a field of smiling daisies, you felt at peace. You were often worried about Billy when he was away. At any time he could be caught, killed, or imprisoned, so moments like this - where you were safely in his arms - made you feel like you were in heaven.

You lazily tilted your head up to nuzzle against the crook of his neck. Laying next to him on the warm earth almost felt unreal, like a part of a romance novel you’ve read before.

“You smell good.” You hummed against his neck, taking in the scent of him. He smelled like campfire and whiskey, two things that shouldn’t smell as good as they did.

A laugh puffed out of Billy’s lips as he angled his head down to place his lips on your temple. His lips felt soft against your skin.

“I’m guessin’ you’ve missed me huh?” He said, his voice rough and ragged. You could feel his warm breath against your forehead making your cheeks heat.

You shifted your body so you laid on your side with your face over his as he stared up into the blue sky.

“Of course I’ve missed ya.” You said softly. You couldn’t help but smile down at him, your lashes fluttering over your eyes.

He reached a hand up to trace your cheek. You would never get bored of the feeling of his rough, calloused hands caressing your skin. It was comforting, his touch felt like home.

When Billy touched you, nothing else mattered, only him. Despite his rough exterior he was always soft with you, as if you were a delicate flower that could be crumpled easily.

You picked at the grass below you while you stared into his striking blue eyes.

“I can’t stand being away from you for too long darlin’” He whispered, also shifting his body so he was propped up on his side.

Billy’s eyes couldn’t help but follow the gentle swoop of your hips and waist waist as you laid there. God were you beautiful. Billy felt like the luckiest man in the world to be lounging here next to you.

He stared at you for a while, taking in all of your perfects. He loved the way your hair fell into place on your shoulders, the way your eyes sparkled in the sun, and especially the faint pink of your cheeks.

You felt his eyes on you and blushed. “What?”

Billy’s lips parted as if he was trying to find the words to say.

“You're just so… Beautiful.” He finally said, giving you a soft smile.

You couldn’t contain your joy as you swooped over to him to plant a kiss on his lips. Your arms found their place around his neck as he let out a muffled grunt.

Billy leaned into the kiss, pulling your body closer to his. He put his arms around your waist and moved you so laid on top of him. When you broke apart from the kiss you couldn’t look anywhere but him. You loved the faint freckles that dotted his face, the curls that softly sat on his brow. You loved all of him.

You spent the rest of the day in the flowery meadow, not having a care in the world. You sat and talked for hours about everything and nothing at all simultaneously. You liked the time away from the stress of the real world. You liked being able to live in your own fantasy, even if it was just for a day.

“I wish I could stay here forever.” You whispered to Billy, as your hands worked meticulously on crafting a crown of daisies. The sun was starting to set now, casting an orange glow across the meadow.

Billy smiled down at you. “You sure you wouldn't get tired of me darlin’?”

“Never.” You giggled, placing a finished daisy crown on Billy’s head. Who knew a known killer could look so impossibly gorgeous in a flower crown?

Billy smiled at you, adjusting the crown on top of his messy brown curls.

“Jesse would never let me hear the end of it if he knew I was sittin’ here with flowers on my head.” He joked.

You let out a laugh, scooting closer to him. You cupped his cheek gently.

“I love you Billy.”

He leaned down to kiss your lips, pink and warm. “I love you too darlin’.” He murmured against them. You could feel his words vibrate through your body.

You wanted this moment to last forever.

You and Billy.

And a field of flowers.

[lol-im-done]

First Lady of Panem

Pairing: Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: When your family arrived to the Capitol from District Ten to secure their place as one of the most prominent and wealthy families of Panem you could have never dreamed fate would lead you into the arms of Coriolanus Snow. Falling in love was easy, watching him become President and becoming First Lady of Panem at his side would test your limits. Panem's history would forever be changed by this union.

AO3 Link

Author's Note: TW & Tags will be updated as each chapter comes out, first chapter is just to set up the story & characters. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Sky Blue Eyes

Those bluebonnets how sweetly they grow

For all the wide prairies they're scattered like snow

They make all the meadows as blue as the skies

Reminding me of my darlings blue eyes

The cow-filled prairies shifted to mountains signaling the train's entrance into District Two as you hummed to the tune of an old song from before Panem’s creation. The sprawling grass sea of District Ten, of your home, disappeared in the distance as you made your way to the heart of Panem. 

“Darling, are you listening to me?”

Lifting your head from the rattling window you turned to see your mother looking at you with soft concern. 

“Sorry Mama, what were you asking?”

Her hand smoothed over your younger sister Mellona’s curls, making her nuzzle deeper into her side. “I was asking if you were hungry so I could order lunch.”

“That would be nice Mama. Thank you.” 

“Alright, call for Agnes if you need anything she’s in the next car,” your mother stands, lays a snoozing Mellona down, before making her way to the dining car. 

“Homesick already?” Victoriosa, the eldest, asks from the chaise never taking her eyes off the magazine in her hands. 

“Is it that obvious?” 

“We always knew we’d have to move to the Capitol.”

“Why now? I thought at least another year or two,” you asked, sinking into the plush leather seat. Victoriosa pauses, looks up at you and for an instant you can see your father’s intense expression staring back at you. 

“Papa wants to finally establish himself as a prominent figure in the Capitol. He needs Capitol support if he is to fully absorb the rest of the ranches, you know that,” she states. “This is also our opportunity to reach our full potential, choose our own paths. Once you finish your career you can always return to Ten if you wish but that would be a waste,” she returns to flipping through her magazine.

“Silva, what do you think?” you turn to your only brother who is seated next to you. 

He gives a short shrug. “I don’t mind it much as long as I can continue my research,” Silva sighs from behind his thick textbook. 

Victoriosa tilts her lithe neck backwards, “Yawnnnnn.” A snort leaves your lips and you’re grateful your mother isn’t nearby to reprimand you for your ‘unladylike’ behavior. 

“Biodiversity is the pinnacle of our success as cattle breeders!” Silva scowls. 

“I thought you’d be missing a certain milkmaid Carpathia,” Victoriosa smirks and a wild blush spreads under Silva’s glasses.  

“Oh like you’ll be missing your ranch hand Bronco,” Silva snaps back.

“There’s always summertime. Plenty of time to catch up,” Victoriosa grins like the cat who got the cream. The three of you burst into a fit of giggles right as Mellona groggily rouses from her nap. 

“Are we there yet?” 

Another burst of laughter fills the private train car. 

It would only take a few more hours before you arrived at the Capitol train station, nightfall falling over the city. Unlike District Ten, not all the stars were visible, the Capitol’s bright lights polluting the sky. Peacekeepers were already stationed to help move all the luggage into the waiting line of cars. Driving through the streets towards your new home, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe at the statues in the squares and the towering buildings. Most of all you were excited to finally see your father, it had been almost a month since you had seen him last. 

“Papa!” 

All of you crashed into Alicio Lupus’ awaiting arms, his rumbling chuckle bouncing off the high marble ceilings of the penthouse. Refugio joins in on the hug with teary eyes, reaching up to press a kiss on her beloved husband’s cheek.

“Welcome home my darlings,” he squeezes you all tighter. Any fear you held disappeared in an instant, as long as you had your family by your side, all would be well. 

The first few weeks in the Capitol had been a whirlwind- meeting other Capitol families for dinner, registration for coveted internships and school courses, and endless shopping trips to assure your home and wardrobes were up to Capitol standards. Refugio Lupus wanted only the best for her children, which included constantly coaching you all to leave behind the District Ten accent that made certain words in your vocabulary drawl. 

After dinner one day you thought you had finally caught a moment of peace before a knock at your door startled you from your book. Agnes, your family's nanny, rolled in a rack of dresses with Victoriosa in tow. Victoriosa was already dressed in a sleek blood red dress with a mink shawl wrapped around her shoulders. 

“What’s all this?”

“We’ve been invited to a soirée to commemorate the end of the 13th Hunger Games. Papa thinks it’s a good chance to introduce us to others in the Capitol’s high society,” Victoriosa swept her arm towards the rack of glittering and ruffled dresses. Nerves made your stomach churn, mouth turning downwards into a frown as you remembered people’s faces this past week when it was revealed you had recently arrived from District Ten. Most look startled before looking at you like you were some exotic bird at the zoo. 

“They’ll never accept us.”

A prideful look crossed her face, so similar to your father’s. No wonder your mother said they were cut from the same stone. “They will once we show them we are as refined as they are. As long as you lose that accent of yours you’ll blend in like a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” she grinned, canines glinting in the light of the chandelier. Rolling your eyes you step over to the rack, feeling the fabrics under your fingers. Stopping at a silver dress, the sequins twinkled like stars entrancing you. Agnes helped dress you before getting to work on sweeping your hair up into a fashionable updo. You waved away the highly pigmented makeup, not ready to delve into that side of Capitol fashion quite yet. 

“Remember you’re a Lupus. We’re wolves among sheep,” Victoriosa pinches your cheek. The usual calluses that adorned her hands were gone, chemical treatments making them a long forgotten memory. 

Wolves among sheep. 

Victoriosa’s words replay through your head like a mantra as you step into the grand ballroom behind her and your father. Thankfully your sister was a gifted extrovert, introducing you to the friends she had already made. Soon you found yourself surrounded by members of the new Gamemaker class, a glass of posca in your hand. It took some time but slowly your shoulders loosened and your smile widened, confidence making you stand a bit taller. 

Across the ballroom, Coriolanus Snow was repeating his own mantra to himself- Snow always lands on top. A reminder that showing up for another Capitol soirée wasn’t simply a waste of time but another way to show all these sycophants how high he had made it. Now heir to the Plinth fortune he was dressed impeccably. Tigris had helped style him, no more handmade shirts, and the final touch- Grandma’am’s rose pinned to his lapel. Like at most parties he was surrounded by his former classmates who were all desperate to remain in his inner circle- he was an esteemed Gamemaker after all. A glimmer in the distance caught his eye, distracting him from the meaningless chatter before him. He recognized the group as intern Gamemakers but not the young woman, fresh faced and glowing in the candlelight. 

“Who is that?” Coriolanus feigned nonchalance as he tilted his head towards her. 

Festus Creed followed his gaze, “Don’t you know?” 

“How could he know? The Lupus Family only recently decided to establish here in the Capitol,” Pup Harrington said in between bites of hors d'oeuvres. The name rang a bell, stories and information from his various connections coming to mind. 

“I believe that’s (Y/N) Lupus. I saw her the other day with her father, Alicio Lupus, at my mother’s bank” Livia Cardew said, inching closer to Coriolanus. “They practically own all the ranches in District Ten, Alicio Lupus’ brother is the Mayor of the District,” Livia whispered, lips coming close to his ear. Festus and Pup exchange an eye roll at her shamelessness and Coriolanus resisted the urge to shrug her off. Offending a Cardew would never bode well.  

“She’s district, probably going back and forth from Ten to the Capitol like one of her family’s pigs,” Livia giggled, but it sounded like grating metal in Coriolanus’ ears. 

“Don’t forget cows! Oh Panem, I dream about those steaks-,” Pup practically salivated. 

“Imagine living all your life in that District, like poor Sejanus,” Festus tutted. Coriolanus immediately bristled at the mention of Sejanus, his icy blue eyes darkening like an impending storm. Festus must have realized his mistake because his eyes widened, apology on the tip of his tongue before Coriolanus cut him off. 

“I should go make her acquaintance then,” he announces, ignoring Livia’s scowl. It was an opportune moment he thought as you now stood by the bar alone. Perhaps you would be desperate enough to try and get in his good graces, and offer to introduce him to your father. Coriolanus would be a fool not to recognize the Lupus family’s wealth and influence, they kept the Districts fed and the Capitol fat. Any potential relationship he could make was more support he could need when he would take a position in the Government. 

As you took another swig of posca, you thought you had managed to escape more social interactions for the night until a voice made you jump. 

“Hello, I’m Coriolanus Snow. Welcome to the Capitol.”

Turning around you looked up at the man’s captivating eyes, as blue as the sky back home. His pink lips curled slightly at the ends as if he was holding in a secret. Blonde hair pushed back in a neat fashion, accentuating his cheekbones. For a moment you were speechless. Remembering yourself, you gave him your name but you had a feeling he already knew it. 

“Pleasure to meet you Coriolanus Snow.”

His stomach swooped. Coriolanus swore he heard a familiar lilt in your voice, but it was not as strong as Lucy Gray’s and those in District Twelve. No, yours was smoother and made your pronunciation of his name sound like it was dipped in warm honey. 

“How are you finding the Capitol?”, he forces himself to ask, to ignore those dangerous thoughts. 

“It's something...definitely not like back home,” you look around at the extravagant decor. 

“Ah yes, District Ten. I’ve never made my way there but I’ve heard wonderful things,” the lie flows smoothly past his lips. “How grateful you must feel to finally be brought to us.” 

Coriolanus would never miss a chance at making anyone District born feel inferior, all the posca he had been drinking making him loose lipped tonight. Indignation made your hands tingle, but you took a deep breath and clenched the glass tighter in your hands to ground you. 

“I’m surprised you weren’t assigned there as a Peacekeeper. I suppose wherever the songbird called from you followed,” you replied, taking a demure sip from your glass, relishing in the way his jaw tensed. You knew who he was, his story with Lucy Gray Baird. Victoriosa had heard it all from a friend and had no qualms in passing the gossip down to you. If he was going to throw thinly veiled insults you’d have to show him you wouldn’t take them lying down. 

“There’s that famous Lupus bite I’ve heard about,” he grins, taking a step closer to you. The scent of roses fills your nose, the sudden proximity to him making a blush rise up your neck. His hand reached out, moving to push a piece of hair behind your ear but the moment was broken when Victoriosa called out for you, pointing to your father who was making his way out the doors. 

“If you’ll excuse me it’s time for me to get home. I’m sure our paths will cross again,” you murmured softly, dipping your head in farewell. Coriolanus stepped back with a slight bow, eyes never straying from your figure as you sauntered away. Oh yes, like two stars crossing in the night sky, you would meet again. Coriolanus would make sure of it. 

[suzirya]

I'm like if a girl was a continuously looping bloom and decay animation sequence. I'm like if my thought patterns hyphaed, mycelially. I'm like if a girl was a mountain-striding giantess. I'm like if a girl was a chimera. I'm like if a girl was a bunch of tea leaves left a minute or two past ideal in their steeping vessel. I'm like if a girl were the ember left on an incense stick when the flame sinks in. I'm like if a girl was "buy 10 for $10" on that fruit you go apeshit for in the grocery store. I'm like if a girl was 52-pickup played with a tarot deck. I'm like if a girl was a collection of cool rocks. I'm like if a girl was her own patron saint of integrity. I'm like if a girl were the priest's favourite sacrificial lamb. I'm like if a girl were an inward-looking oracle. I'm like if a psychopomp. I'm like if Girls Against God. I'm like if a girl transfigured. I'm like if a girl were a designated area of concern under remediation. I'm like if a girl were a hide-and-seek game with herself. I'm like if a girl were hallow(ed) on the inside. I'm like if a girl were the entire water cycle diagram. I'm like if a girl were a grown-ass woman who was a coyote. I'm like if a girl were wish full. I'm like if a girl were golden hour in a short-grass prairie in the mountain foothills and the path was riotous with dandelions. I'm like if a girl's shards were showing. Like if kintsugi. I'm like if a girl visibly mended. (Insp.)

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

The rich people neighborhoods in my town are awful

Just these giant houses in these giant MOWED fields that could 100% be grassland and FULL of native plants CUZ WE LIVE IN FUCKING KANSAS

*googles "how to make it socially shameful and abhorrent to have 8 acres of treeless lawn"*

[ghostoffuturespast]

1 November 2024 - Friday Field Notes

Autumn's finally sighed itself in on the prairie.

I live in an area that has a lot of new housing development going in, and it kills me to see all this prairie getting ripped up. I get it, people need places to live. But seeing all these cookie cutter houses and turf grass supplanting everything that's here, just seems so ungrateful and wasteful. People just have no fucking clue and are so disconnected nature. I see all theses Prairie Dogs and Northern Harrier Hawks and Bullsnakes they're all getting boxed in and pushed out. People water and mow their Kentucky Blue Grass and wonder why all the pollinators are gone and there's no water...

I'm one person and there are limits to what I'm able to do, but I've been going on walks in the evening and collecting seeds from the plants I find. The plants that people walk past and call weeds. There's a lot of non-native plants but just some of the things I've been able to find just on the fringes of the sidewalks. Hoary Tansyaster, Sunflowers, Buffalo Grass, Blue Grama, and the Side Oats Grama. The Side Oats Grama! There's so much Side Oats Grama out here and it's beautiful! It has these gorgeous crimson red hues when they're flowering and on they're leaves. A gorgeous grass and almost no one ever takes the time to admire it.

Blurry Swainson's Hawk. (I think. I'm still horrendous at IDing birds.)

The last of the Sunflowers.

Cold sleepy prairie.

I'm really glad it's November. This past fall and summer season has been so fucking hectic that I feel like I didn't really get a chance to enjoy them. In between project planning, I'm gonna try and spend more time outside this winter. Try and keep the SAD at bay.

It may not seem like there's a lot going on in the cold season but I'm interested to see how all the plants get along through the winter. What they look like. Who's growing when. Having a better understanding of plant life cycles and growing succession will hopefully help more with our restoration and gardening efforts.

And look at these buggers! A couple of badasses right here, growing straight out of some rocks. I think that's Hairy False Golden Aster (on the left, some kind of asteraceae at least) and Fringed Sage (on the right).

If you two can make it, then so can I.

[locallygrowndaikon]

Post therapy holiday short story about my ocs that i totally didnt just run through grammarly once and called it a day under cut!

“Woah,” Lark breathed out as he squints at the light reflecting off of the fields of white, “I’ve never seen it snow here in prairie before.”

The once-green fields were now covered in snowfall. The sun still shines down as it hangs in the clear sky but instead of warmth, the air still felt cold. Kari sifts their hand through the snow. It was still powdery, still fresh.

“That’s so cool!” Ness squeals in awe before running past Lark and throwing herself into the ground. Kari follows Eira as she walks up to Ness who’s rolled onto her back and started making snow angels.

A disgruntled voice comes from behind. “It’s too cold here now. The grass was better. And why are you wearing a sunhat in the cold? That’s weird,” Beefy releases a string of complaints as he stops next to Lark, looking down at Ness.

“It’s for the aesthetic! Not that you would know anything about that,” She throws back as she sits up while grabbing her hat defensively. The metaphorical camera pans to Beefy’s god-awful outfit consisting of too many expensive cosmetics thrown together. He just scoffs at Ness’ glare.

Ness stands up and brushes snow off of her pants. Beefy has his arms crossed as Ness approaches him. She lifts one of the capes Beefy has stacked up on him before she pulls out a white camera.

“Wha- Hey!” Beefy sputters as Ness examines the camera.

“I’ll be borrowing this, thanks,” Ness deadpans before taking off and flying away.

“DO YOU HOW MUCH THATS WORTH GET BACK HERE,” Beefy yells as he chases after Ness, leaving Lark, Eira, and Kari standing there in silence.

Lark takes a few steps forward and looks back with a smile that one would put up when dealing with young rowdy moths. “Sorry guys, I’m going to go make sure those two don’t get lost. I’ll be right back,” Lark says then runs off after Beefy, leaving just Eira and Kari standing in silence.

Kari kicks at the snow. “Lark knows some weird people, huh.”

Eira lets a small laugh at the comment. “Beefy scares me sometimes,” she replies. Kari silently agrees in their mind. They did not sign up for meeting Beefy when Lark had become their friend.

“I think the snow is pretty,” Eira changes the subject. Kari looks over at her.

“Really?”

“It reminds me of Valley of Triumph. I like the snow,” She says. Kari looks away. She did say that a long time ago when they were younger, didn’t she?

Kari kneels down in the snow without a word. Eira looks over Kari’s shoulder as they start scooping up snow in their hands and pressing it together into a small pile.

“Can I borrow your hair clip?” Kari asks, holding out their hand, waiting for Eira to agree, which Eira does. She puts the clip in their hand without much of a reaction. Kari flips the clip over in their hands. They had fiddled with this clip in their hands the first time they found it too. It really has been a while since then. Eira must’ve held it with so much guilt during the time they separated too.

Kari glances at Eira for a second to check her expression. It’s blank. She’s still looking at Kari, confused. Kari goes back to pressing snow together with the clip in their hand. They hope Eira doesn’t see their expression falter at the sour thoughts and picks up two small stones and sticks them in the crooked lump of snow they’ve made before sticking the harmony clip on too.

“It’s you,” Kari takes on a mischievous smile as they present the little wonky pile of snow that barely resembles a snowman. The only it has similarity to Eira that it has is the harmony clip that sits on the side of it. Eira covers her mouth as she chuckles and kneels next to it.

Kari watches as Eira makes her own little pile of snow, her pile becoming more of a flat pile than the one Kari made.

“Can I borrow the leaves on your antlers?” Eira asks, similar to how Kari asked earlier with her hand pointing at Kari’s withered antlers. Kari lowers their head and lets Eira pluck two leaves. She sticks the leaves on her little snow pile.

“It looks like bunny ears,” Kari notes. Eira smiles.

“It’s supposed to be you,” She says as she adds a bit more snow to the base of her Kari snowman, which also barely resembles Kari. The two take a seat back to admire their little snowman copies of each other. Kari wants to laugh at how bad the snow lumps look.

It’s quiet as the two sit there with their snow versions. Eira is the first to break the silence. “It’s nice, spending time with you again,” she says with her eyes on the snow. “I missed it.”

Kari’s expression falls. “I’m sorry.”

Eira looks up in shock at the sudden change in Kari’s tone. “I- No, it’s-“ she stutters, still taken aback from the sudden apology, “No, I didn’t mean that… that I’m talking about how we hurt each other, I just- I just think the moment we’re having right now is nice. I’m just glad we’re here together right now.”

“Oh,” Kari answers, still focusing on the snow rather than Eira.

Eira pulls her knees to her chest. “I’m glad we’re here now,” she repeats.

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad you’re still here with me after everything.”

Kari hums in response. Eira scoots closer to them.

“You’re still hung up in the past,” Eira states.

Kari grimaces. Eira didn’t sugarcoat it or talk around it. “It’s hard not to be. It’s hard not to think about it when I’m with you. Hatred is what most of my memories of you are. It doesn’t feel like long since we’ve become… friends again.”

Eira doesn’t say anything immediately. She sticks out her hand and pokes the snowman Kari made.

“I feel scared when I look at you sometimes too,” she returns. “I’m not used to this yet.” Kari keeps their face flat as they listen.

Eira continues to talk. “I hope it will change one day, so let’s keep making new memories together.”

Kari tries to wear a smile, hoping Eira doesn’t see through it. “Let’s keep making the good memories.”

Eira gives a similar smile back. Kari pokes at the snowmen too.

“Our snowmen copies of each other are kind of ugly,” Kari comments. Eira gives a real huff of laughter at this.

“I guess so,” Eira says fondly with a smile that doesn’t look as strained as before. Kari finds that their own smile is a bit easier to wear too.

Footsteps crunching in the snow sound behind them. Lark leans over the two sitting skykids. “I’m back, what are you guys do-“

Lark is promptly interrupted by Beefy being shoved into him and Ness pushing Beefy off to the side. Beefy regains footing and buts back in but Ness continues to try and push him.

“Are you making snowmen-“ Ness starts.

“-without us??” Beefy cuts in, pushing Ness back away. Ness screams for Lark to do something about the hooligan on the loose as Lark proceeds to ignore the chaos.

Lark sits down next to Eira. “Oh, these little guys look like you two!” He points out.

“Barely,” Kari smiles. Lark laughs in response. He starts lumping together snow and makes a small snowman with two coherent bolls of snow stacked on top of each other.

“That can be me then,” Lark proclaims as he dusts his hands free from snow. Kari squints at Lark’s snowman. It looks good for a snowman, but in terms of resembling Lark himself, Kari gives it 0 points. At least theirs and Eira’s sort of have their defining features. Lark catches on Kari’s judging stare. “It looks close enough to me,” he shrugs. Kari continues to disagree silently.

Ness finally pushes Beefy over and bends over Lark. “Oh, let me add myself in too! I'm joining the snowman gang,” she declared as Beefy held his knee while he limped over, cursing something about how Ness should stop aiming for the knees.

“What? Snowman gang?” Beefy asks as he finally catches up, “I bet my snowman’s gonna look the best.”

“There’s no way,” Ness states with a dead stare into Beefy. Lark definitely let out a sigh somewhere in the background. Kari personally finds the whole situation entertaining to watch as Beefy tries to make the largest pile of snow before sticking his party hat and sunglasses into the pile and calling it a day. Ness just makes a little snow bunny as she stares at Beefy’s “snowman” in disbelief.

Kari scoots closer to Eira as Beefy tries to preach about why his snowman is the best while Ness has never looked more distressed and Lark just acts as if this were another day. The Eira snow lump and the Kari snow pile were now surrounded by other friends' snowmen. Kari smiles without even realizing it.

Their snowmen look a lot less lonely now.

[whencyclopedia]

Homolovi

Homolovi or Homolovi State Park (formerly: Homolovi Ruins State Park) is a cluster of archaeological sites that contains the ruins of eight pre-Columbian Ancestral Puebloan (Anasazi) and Hopi pueblos in addition to some 300 other remains and petroglyphs. Homolovi lies within sight of the Little Colorado River in a floodplain, 2 km (4 miles) northeast of Winslow, Arizona in the United States. Archaeologists believe that Ancestral Puebloan peoples and the ancestors of the Hopi tribe once occupied these settlements, which spread out along a 32 km (19 miles) corridor on the Little Colorado River, at different intervals of time from c. 1250-1425 CE. Two pueblos - Homolovi I and Homolovi II - each contained more than 1,000 rooms in ancient times, and 40 ceremonial kivas are scattered throughout the park. The Homolovi ruins are unique in the ancient Southwest as they have helped archaeologists better understand the cultural transitions and social changes that occurred in the region during the 13th through 14th centuries CE. Four of the sites at Homolovi are listed on the U.S. National Register of Historic Places, and the park is currently managed by the Arizona State Park system.

Geography & Prehistory

Homolovi or Homol'ovi is Hopi for “place of the little hills,” and Arizona's Hopi Reservation and Hopi Mesas are located only 84 km (52 miles) north of Homolovi. Lying in extreme close proximity to the Little Colorado River (Hopi: Paayu), Homolovi is situated in the Great Basin Area Desert Grasslands and is 130 km (80 miles) southeast of Flagstaff, Arizona, 117 km (73 miles) from Wupatki Pueblo, and 217 km (135 miles) west of Gallup, New Mexico. Homolovi covers a total area of 1,800 ha (4,500 acres) and sits at a high desert altitude of 1494 m (4,900 ft). Homolovi only receives about 178 mm (7 in) of precipitation annually.

Scientific and archaeological research has shown that nomadic, prehistoric peoples occupied the area that now comprises Homolovi intermittently from c. 4000 BCE- 400 CE. The Little Colorado River made the area somewhat attractive to an array of fauna: cottontail rabbits, jackrabbits, beavers, prairie dogs, porcupines, waterfowl, fish, elk, deer, and antelope come to the river seasonally. Ancient prehistoric peoples and tribes came occasionally to the region while hunting and migrating seasonally, but they did not construct settlements within the region until c. 500-600 CE. The reasons for this are likely due to the area's very dry climate and lack of wood and storable food resources. When possible and climatic conditions were favorable, early sedentary people hunted and gathered like their prehistoric forebears, but they also began farming, growing corn, beans, squash, and other small crops. It is also known that they grew cotton for textile production. Yucca and rice grass have grown in the area for several millennia, and indigenous people utilized rice grass as a staple food when the maize crop failed.

There were two periods of inhabitation of Homolovi prior to the construction of the pueblos at Homolovi in the 13th and 14th centuries CE: an Early Period from c. 600-900 CE and Middle Period from 1000-1225 CE. When favorable climatic conditions existed in the 11th and 12th centuries CE, indigenous peoples built small pit houses as opposed to large-scale constructions made of adobe. These earlier occupations of the area around Homolovi appear short-lived and sporadic, lasting around a decade or two. This pattern of periodic settlement and abandonment is likely due to changing local environmental conditions and the Little Colorado River. Depending on the year, the river could be bone-dry due to lack of rain or prone to flooding due to heavy snowfalls near the river's headwaters. It is known that the Little Colorado River was flooded regularly in the early 1200s CE and that the decades leading up to the 13th century CE were wet.

Continue reading...

[thedeviltohisangel]

MUSTANG ON A PRAIRIE

Ok. Completely self-indulgent post me attending a rodeo thing. Yellowstone/Cowboy AU that was originally a Cass/John AU but seemed to fit Austin? Let me know if you guys would be at all interested in something further with this pairing and universe 🤠💕

Willa put her car into park and looked across the expanse of land that all fell under the name of the Strickland Ranch. God was it intimidating sometimes. It was daunting to see the green grass stretch even further than her eyes could see. Daunting to watch the way her father ached over every head of cattle and every horse and every cowboy. Daunting to think that anyone truly expected her to run this place one day. She was having a hard enough time getting through her first clerkship.

The sound of hooting and hollering had her looking to the right at one of the pens at the front of her family’s property, closest to the stables. It looked like that new mustang had just been let out of the trailer he’d been trying to kick his way through for a couple days. He looked beautiful in the Montana sunshine. His hair so black it looked like a rainbow when the light hit it just right. She hated when they brought back a wild horse to break. She knew the feeling all too well.

“Evening, boys,” she called as she strolled over to the fence. They all tipped their hats and greeted her with a chorus of ma’am’s before turning their attention back to where the newest ranch hand had pulled the short straw and was sat on the back of the mustang as he bucked. “Our resident bull rider didn’t want the honor?”

“No, ma’am, he’s getting ready for the rodeo tonight.” As if he sensed they were talking about him, Willa looked towards the bunkhouse and saw his figure leaning in the doorway. She swears he smiled at her.

“Right. Well don’t keep Chris up there so late he misses the rodeo. Want to be able to laugh at him later.” They all laughed. “See you all tonight.” She threw the blonde cowboy in the distance a parting glance, he was already watching her, before disappearing into the house to get ready for tonight.

-

She held her friends hand as they took their seats on the bleachers. Willa had a clear view of her father in row one, no doubt ready to castrate his ranch hand that was competing tonight, and was perfectly in line with shoot four where her handsome cowboy would be.

“You didn’t give him a good luck kiss beforehand?” her friend asked.

“No. He hates that shit on rodeo days. I barely even looked at him this afternoon.” Willa munched on a French fry.

“I’m surprised your dad would let him ride. Hard to be a good cowboy if you break your back on a bull.” The elbow in her side was sharp.

“Don’t talk like that.” Her father hated that Austin rode bulls. Had threatened to fire him the moment he got hurt. If he even got sore. But James Strickland hated the way he looked at his daughter even more. “My father doesn’t own him.” She couldn’t look her in the eye when she said it.

When his name was announced as the next rider, Guns N’ Roses blaring through the speakers, everyone cheers except for Willa. This was where her nerves settled in. It was only ever 8 seconds. 8 seconds of holding on tight and then it would be over.

The shoot opened and people cheered. The bull bucked and bucked but he stayed on. Held tight and looked like it was nothing. Like it was Sunday morning and the sun was shining just for him. Down to the toothpick lazily hanging from his mouth.

The buzzer rang at 8, the crowd erupting as Willa simply exhaled. The bull being chased around the pen as the cowboy in question cheered himself and faced the adoration. She spared a glance at her father, stoic and no trace of anything to give his feelings away.

“Willa! He’s coming this way!” It was her turn to be elbowed as her friend was frantically trying to grab her attention. Oh no, not something public. Whatever it was between them had been so good. So good because it was in the shadows. Truck bed nights. Sunrise rides. Sneaking out to the bar three towns over where hopefully no one would recognize her or her name.

“Ma’am.” Gracefully, he placed his signature cowboy hat on the top of her head. With a wink and a searing smile he walked back the way he came like it was nothing at all.

-

Regardless of her constant blush and the jealous stares of the all the women at the rodeo, she kept the hat on all night.

They did their best to keep a healthy distance to not invite any scrutiny, Willa picking at her funnel cake and Austin smiling for photos and autographs with the younger children that considered him a local hero.

Slowly but surely couples were breaking off towards the band that was playing an acoustic song. Something soft and slow about falling in love but questioning if it was worth the risk. The irony wasn’t lost on her. “Excuse me, Miss Strickland, but might I borrow you for a dance?” She swallowed the piece of fried dough in her mouth and nodded silently as he offered her a hand, kissing the back, and let her to the open patch of grass where everyone else had paired off.

“You were amazing tonight,” she whispered as they found a slow rhythm.

“I’m happy you decided to come. Know you don’t like it.” He wanted to steal a kiss but knew better. The money in riding could be good if you were good enough. Austin was more than good enough, sponsors already sending out feelers and trying to get him on the national circuit. The money would be to build a little house somewhere on the acres of property for them to live in one day, something all their own. A ring for her finger.

“You seem so inspired when you’re up there. Makes me want to get back into racing.” Willa had been quite the prolific barrel rider before she was sent off to law school. Barrel racers got into too much trouble for her to keep up with it.

“You should race again. Should let me take you for a ride tomorrow. Sierra can stretch her legs and-“

“I want to ride the mustang in the front paddock.” He paused their dancing.

“Wills, he’s not ready. Needs a few more days.”

“He doesn’t need to be broken. He’s fine just as he is.” Austin laughed and composed himself, pulling her closer and brushing his nose against hers.

“You want to ride the wild thing, you can ride the wild thing. We’ll see how that goes as soon as the sun rises.” His lips ghosted over hers but didn’t quite kiss her.

“Want to win me a teddy bear?” she whispered.

“Let’s go get you the biggest teddy bear this side of the Mississippi.”