#shrubby plant

[chacrunashrubplant]

Assets of Ayahuasca and also Tips On How It Can Calm You

Ayahuasca is a medicinal drink that advertises the inner recovery of both body and soul. Discovering the Ayahuasca advantages can be a rewarding experience. It is made up of two crucial plant plants, the vine of Banisteriopsis caapi, also called ayahuasca, and the vision-inducing leaves of the Psychotria viridis plant, frequently known as chacruna. The plants together supply a harmonious experience that has both clinical and also spiritual benefits, just like the combination of the plants themselves. The psychoactive brew has restorative impacts beyond comparison. Individuals have actually seen a rise awareness of their body and mind, decreased drug desires, study also suggests it is a therapy for consuming conditions to name a few illness. When incorporated with the DMT located in the vine triggers receptor websites in the mind, Ayahuasca is largely made up of MAO-inhibiting beta-carbolines that. This mix produces a psychoactive sensation which aids the treatment of usual psychological health consisting of PTSD. Clients with aid of active DMT receptors in Ayahuasca, have actually become more knowledgeable about their trauma and experience a deconstructive and also rearranging of trigger signs. Hence, producing a makeover unavailable from other kinds of treatment. PTSD patients confirm Ayahuasca allows them to deal as well as face with what has haunted them.

Various other Ayahuasca benefits include assisting drug users beat dependency. They have experienced comparable benefits by facing the trauma that caused drug abuse. Former addicts have experienced chemical restorations in mind receptors as well as with the chemical restorations boosted by Ayahuasca have actually experienced a reduction in cravings. Beyond of the range those dealing with consuming problems have actually seen a comparable deconstruction of nerve cell receptors which has helped them conquer their problems. Customers have been seen to have actually enhanced degrees of yearnings and serotonin degrees. Supporters of Ayahuasca have actually seen an increase of power as well as self-esteem upon consuming it. Patients with clinical depression have seen a modification in serotonin degrees boosting their moods, responding with similar to antidepressants with longer relief time. As well as much like PTSD people assert to be allowed to experience a reconstruction of trigger signs and a clearer understanding of possible triggers.

The healing disorders can likewise be seen in the cleansing of the gall, liver and also blood bladder. Thus reducing threat of diabetic issues, Alzheimer's, and also cancer. Psychotria viridis achieves this by purging the body of disorders that reduce the results of alternative medicine. Subsequently it is thought that enabling increasing the results of alternative medicine can reduce cellular growth of chronic conditions and particular cancers cells. Cancer people have seen a reduced result of cancer cells on their psychological and physical state of being. Ayahuasca is additionally renowned for its capacity to boost the birth of brand-new nerve cells in the brain. With extensive study and first-hand experience, the Ayahuasca benefits are clear, Ayahuasca aids patients conquer both physical and also mental conditions by deconstructing nerve cell receptors known to impact those experiencing injury and physical disorders.

[orofeaiel]

Shrubby Cinquefoil in the morning dew

[blogbirdfeather]

Shrubby Gromwell - Erva-das-sete-sangrias (Lithodora prostrata)

Sintra/Portugal (18/03/2024)

[Nikon D850; AF 105mm Micro-Nikkor F2,8 with Circular Flash Nissin  MF 18; 1/250s; F20 and F16; 400 ISO]

[faguscarolinensis]

Lespedeza bicolor / Shrubby Bushclover at the Sarah P. Duke Gardens at Duke University in Durham, NC

[forsythiahill]

Bee magnet, yellow Shrubby St Johns Wort, awesome native plant for insects

[gallifreyanconsultingphilosopher]

Now that it's spring I can partake in one of my favourite mindless, relaxing activities: pulling weeds.

Right now I'm really into plucking summer cypress sprouts.

[leaflingsound]

shrubby cinquefoil. july 2023.

[arrozaurus]

ruscus is germinating!!!

[headspace-hotel]

Nature is healing.

I burned the Meadow a couple weeks ago. At first it looked like nothing but charred ashes and dirt, with a few scorched green patches, and I was afraid I'd done something terrible. But then the sprouts emerged. Tender new leaves swarming the soil.

My brother and I were outside after dark the other day, to see if any lightning bugs would emerge yet. We had been working on digging the pond. That old soggy spot in the middle of the yard that we called "poor drainage," that always splattered mud over our legs when we ran across it as children—it isn't a failed lawn, and it never was.

Oh, we tried to fill in the mud puddles, even rented heavy machinery and graded the whole thing out, but the little wetland still remembered. God bless those indomitable puddles and wetlands and weeds, that in spite of our efforts to flatten out the differences that make each square meter of land unique from another, still declare themselves over and over to be what they are.

So we've been digging a hole. A wide, shallow hole, with an island in the middle.

And steadily, I've been transplanting in vegetation. At school there is a soggy field that sadly is mowed like any old field. The only pools where a frog could lay eggs are tire ruts. From this field I dig up big clumps of rushes and sedges, and nobody pays me any mind when I smuggle them home.

I pulled a little stick of shrubby willow from some cracked pavement near a creek, and planted it nearby. From a ditch on the side of the road beside a corn field, I dug up cattail rhizomes. Everywhere, tiny bits of wilderness, holding on.

I gathered up rotting logs small enough to carry and made a log pile beside the pond. At another corner is a rock pile. I planted some old branches upright in the ground to make a good place for birds and dragonflies to perch.

And there are so many birds! Mourning doves, robins, cardinals and grackles come here in much bigger numbers, and many, many finches and sparrows. I always hear woodpeckers, even a Pileated Woodpecker here and there. A pair of bluebirds lives here. There are three tree swallows, a barn swallow also, tons of chickadees, and there's always six or seven blue jays screaming and making a commotion. And the goldfinches! Yesterday I watched three brilliant yellow males frolic among the tall dandelions. They would hover above the grass and then drop down. One landed on a dandelion stem and it flopped over. There are several bright orange birds too. I think a couple of them are orioles, but there's definitely also a Summer Tanager. There's a pair of Canada Geese that always fly by overhead around the same time in the evening. It's like their daily commute.

The other day, as I watched, I saw a Cooper's Hawk swoop down and carry off a robin. This was horrifying news for the robin individually, but great news for the ecosystem. The food chain can support more links now.

There are two garter snakes instead of one, both of them fat from being good at snaking. I wonder if there will be babies?

But the biggest change this year is the bugs. It's too early for the lightning bugs, but all the same the yard is full of life.

It's like remembering something I didn't know I forgot. Oh. This is how it's supposed to be. I can't glance in any direction without seeing the movement of bugs. Fat crickets and earwigs scuttle underneath my rock piles, wasps flit about and visit the pond's shore, an unbelievable variety of flies and bees visit the flowers, millipedes and centipedes hide under the logs. Butterflies, moths, and beetles big and small are everywhere.

I can't even describe it in terms of individual encounters; they're just everywhere, hopping and fluttering away with every step. There are so many kinds of ants. I sometimes stare really closely at the ground to watch the activities of the ants. Sometimes they are in long lines, with two lanes of ants going back and forth, touching antennae whenever two ants traveling in opposite directions meet. Sometimes I see ants fighting each other, as though ant war is happening. Sometimes the ants are carrying the curled-up bodies of dead ants—their fallen comrades?

My neighbor gave me all of their fallen leaves (twelve bags!) and it turns out that piling leaves on top of a rock and log pile in a wet area summons an unbelievable amount of snails.

I always heard of snails as pests, but I have learned better. Snails move calcium through the food chain. Birds eat snails and use the calcium in their shells to make egg shells. In this way, snails lead to baby birds. I never would have known this if I hadn't set out to learn about snails.

In the golden hour of evening, bugs drift across the sky like golden motes of dust, whirling and dancing together in the grand dramas of their tiny lives. I think about how complicated their worlds are. After interacting with bees and wasps so much for so long, I'm amazed by how intelligent and polite they are. Bumble bees will hover in front of me, swaying side to side, or circle slowly around me several times, clearly perceiving some kind of information...but what? It seems like bees and wasps can figure out if you are a threat, or if you are peaceful, and act accordingly.

I came to a realization about wasps: when they dart at your head so you hear them buzzing close by your ears, they're announcing their presence. The proper response is to freeze and duck down a bit. It seems like wasps can recognize if you're being polite; for what it's worth, I've never been stung by a wasp.

As night falls, bats emerge and start looping and darting around in the sky above. If the yard seems full of bugs in the day, it is nothing compared to the night.

I'm aware that what I'm about to describe, to an entomophobe, sounds like a horror movie: when i walk to the back yard, the trees are audibly crackling and whirring with the activity of insects. Beetles hover among the branches of the trees. When we look up at the sky, moths of all sizes are flying hither and thither across it. A large, very striking white moth flies past low to the ground.

Last year, seeing a moth against the darkening sky was only occasional. Now there's so many of them.

I consider it in my mind:

When roads and houses are built and land is turned over to various human uses, potentially hundreds of native plant species are extirpated from that small area. But all of the Eastern USA has been heavily altered and destroyed.

Some plants come back easily, like wild blackberry, daisy fleabane, and common violets. But many of them do not. Some plants need fire to sprout, some need Bison or large birds to spread them, some need humans to harvest and care for them, some live in habitats that are frequently treated with contempt, some cannot bear to be grazed by cattle, some are suffocated beneath invasive Tall Fescue, Kentucky bluegrass, honeysuckle or Bradford pears, and some don't like being mowed or bushhogged.

Look at the landscape...hundreds and hundreds of acres of suburbs, pastures, corn fields, pavement, mowed verges and edges of roads.

Yes, you see milkweed now and then, a few plants on the edge of the road, but when you consider the total area of space covered by milkweed, it is so little it is nearly negligible. Imagine how many milkweed plants could grow in a single acre that was caretaken for their prosperity—enough to equal fifty roadsides put together!

Then I consider how many bugs are specialists, that can only feed upon a particular plant. Every kind of plant has its own bugs. When plant diversity is replaced by Plant Sameness, the bug population decreases dramatically.

Plant sameness has taken over the world, and the insect apocalypse is a result.

But in this one small spot, nature is healing...

[thebotanicalarcade]

n288_w1150 by Biodiversity Heritage Library Via Flickr: Flora Graeca, sive, Plantarum rariorum historia, quas in provinciis aut insulis Graeciae / Londini :Typis Richardi Taylor et socii, in Vico Shoe-Lane :MDCCCVI-MDCCCXL [1806-1840]. biodiversitylibrary.org/page/54121696

[vintagehomecollection]

Rockery feature. In this garden, the rockery is a separate feature divided by paths from the rest of the garden. Lines of rock strata are discernible, giving the rockery island a feel of authenticity. Planting includes attractive, low-growing species in the foreground and shrubby masses behind the main rock grouping.

The Garden Book, 1984

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XXII)

Chapter 22 : ‘And if you missed a day, there was always the next, and if you missed a year, it didn’t matter, the hills weren’t going anywhere���

Hi! Here is a new chapter! A very important chapter!!!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2436

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Sunrise

This time of year, the window boxes smell of the hills, the thyme and rosemary that grew there, crammed into the narrow spaces between the rocks and, lower down, where there was real dirt, competing with other things, blueberries and currants, the small shrubby trees the bees love— Whatever we ate smelled of the hills, even when there was almost nothing. Or maybe that’s what nothing tastes like, thyme and rosemary.

Maybe, too, that’s what it looks like— beautiful, like the hills, the rocks above the tree line webbed with sweet smelling herbs, the small plants glittering with dew—

It was a big event to climb up there and wait for dawn, seeing what the sun sees as it slides out from behind the rocks, and what you couldn’t see, you imagined;

your eyes would go as far as they could, to the river, say, and your mind would do the rest—

And if you missed a day, there was always the next, and if you missed a year, it didn’t matter, the hills weren’t going anywhere, the thyme and rosemary kept coming back, the sun kept rising, the bushes kept bearing fruit—

The streetlight’s off: that’s dawn here. It’s on: that’s twilight. Either way, no one looks up. Everyone just pushes ahead, and the smell of the past is everywhere, the thyme and rosemary rubbing against your clothes, the smell of too many illusions—

Between them, the hills and sky took up all the room. Whatever was left, that was ours for a while. But eventually the hills will take it back, give it to the animals. And maybe the moon will send the seas there, and where we lived will be a stream or river coiling around the base of the hills, paying the sky the compliment of reflection.

I went back but I didn’t stay. Everyone I cared about was gone, some dead, some disappeared into one of those places that don’t exist, the ones we dreamed about because we saw them from the top of the hills— I had to see if the fields were still shining, the sun telling the same lies about how beautiful the world is when all you need to know of a place is, do people live there. If they do, you know everything.

The hills are terrible, they hide the truth of the past. Green in summer, white when the snow falls.

Louise Glück

You went home that night a few minutes after Andrew had left. There was no need to stay, you couldn’t focus or have any kind of coherent thought after that kiss anyway. So you headed home, trying not to think of Andrew, of his delicious scent, of the roughness of his beard against your skin, of the softness of his lips against yours, of his taste of coffee and chocolate, of how good his kiss was…

You kept those thoughts at bay while driving, but then they were swarming as you took off your shoes in your flat, locked your door, took off your coat and started pacing across your living room.

What the fuck was that?! The first time around, you were both drunk, it was easy to brush off the moment you had shared as a mistake. But this time?!

You needed to be logical. Logic and reason. Logic and reason…

What the fuck was that?!

A mistake. That was what it was. You had said it yourself! His feelings were all over the place, and in these moments of intense stress, people did crazy and stupid things, like kissing other people they didn’t really like. Maybe he was feeling lonely, and, and… you were there… you were there and that was it. Nothing special about it. He had apologised, it was alright, the two of you could go on with your lives and your arrangement as if nothing had happened.

But then… why did you keep thinking about his lips on yours, and his tongue, and his hands, and his smell, and his rushing heart under your palm and…

No! You turned to the picture of you and Frank displayed there, on your mantlepiece, the one reminder of the life you should have, the one you wanted. You were a strong, independent woman, and you knew what you wanted. You wanted your life back. You wanted your life with Frank back. Yes, Andrew was smart, and kind, and a gentle soul, and hilarious once you had broken his shy shell, and adorable with his blushing and his discomfort and his glasses, and of course, of course he was gorgeous, tall and pretty and…

… yes, yes to all of that. But you wanted Frank.

You wanted Frank.

You wanted Frank.

You repeated the sentence like a mantra, just to convince yourself. And for a moment, you succeeded.

Still, the dreams you forgot in the morning were full of long brown curls, of a beard brushing your skin, of hazel and a laughter you knew was not Frank’s. Not Frank’s at all…

The air was crisp, the leaves white with frost, the grass a paler green than usual. The sky a moody grey, the trail ahead overgrown with bushes over its edges. The buzzy chirping of birds, the whisper of a river nearby. The hushed murmur of leaves under a squall, the shade under the canopy of the forest you were walking through. It was cold, and it was lovely, wandering across the countryside across the Wicklow Hills. Such a quiet day, life in winter was slowed down, Nature itself had settled for a rhythm that was quieter than its usual rush of life. It felt like you had a million years ahead of you, like this very day would never end, like time would stretch forever ahead, becoming infinite in its slowing pace. Like there would always be a tomorrow, like all things in life would last.

The warm feeling that had settled in Andrew’s chest was steady, unwavering, this afternoon. It had appeared when he had dropped by your building to pick you up. You were grinning, such a happy smile on your features. He was glad, relieved even, to find such grins more and more often on your lips these days. It seemed that you were happier again, a closer image to the woman he had first met, the one beaming with warmth and a quiet joy.

Elwood was walking before him, taking off every now and then because of the nearby smell of a bird, a badger, or a fox, but Andrew was quick to call for him, and the obedient dog always stopped, returned to the safety of Andrew’s side. He seemed in bliss like this, free to run up and down the path as long as Andrew could keep an eye on him. He was busy sniffing the side of the path now, near a relatively tall oak tree, while Andrew was laughing loudly, so loudly he scared for good the fox Elwood had smelled.

“Do it again! Do it again, Andy!”

Andrew tried to calm down, to breathe fully again, but it was hard to do so when your laughter was still in the air. You seemed so happy this afternoon. Carefree. Radiant. Christ, he wanted this moment to last forever, to see you smiling like this until the sun itself would burst and destroy all things known to mankind, until the universe would collapse and die out, until even light was gone. He wanted this moment to last forever, for you to always be this happy, for him to always be able to see you like this…

He caught himself thinking these ridiculous thoughts, because okay, fine, maybe he liked you a little. Perhaps, just perhaps he had a tiny crush on you. But nothing more. Nothing close to love. That was a feeling only for Sam, you… you were charming, and funny, and so damn smart, and strong, and brave, and gorgeous and… yes! Yes, of course, to all of that, but you weren’t Sam, and he wanted Sam, because he couldn’t fall in love with someone else, that was impossible. He had come to this conclusion the night after your second kiss, a week ago. You had said it yourself, his feelings were all over the place, he wasn’t thinking straight. Yes, he was attracted to you, yes, he liked you… but that was it. That was it…

Except it wasn’t, and Andrew was painfully aware of it now. Now that you stared at him with those eyes he saw in his dreams, now that your laughter warmed his very soul, now that all he wanted was to kiss you, to hold you tight, to feel your grin against his lips and taste the joy that escaped your mouth.

He liked you. Badly so. He had a crush on you. A very, very heavy crush on you. One that he had to refrain and get under control, because none of this was the plan, because you were colleagues, because you were friends, because you still loved your ex while Andrew wasn’t certain of his feelings for his ex… and yet, he still felt it with every fibre of his being.

He had a crush on you…

“Do it again!” you commanded once more, and you were so adorable like this, all laughter and childish excitement.

He was laughing too much though. When he brought up his hands to his mouth, positioning a single blade of grass between his thumbs, he couldn’t blow enough air to make the grass whistle.

“Wait…” he choked on his laughter.

“Do it again, Andy!”

“Stop making me laugh so much!” he complained, stumbling on his feet, laughing too hard.

“Come on!”

“Hang on… wait, wait, wait…”

He adjusted the grass between his fingers, put it to his lips once more. It failed, but he tried a third time. The sound that came out was hilarious, but it worked. He looked at you with wide eyes, while you laughed again. He made a funny face while blowing hard a fourth time, and you doubled over with laughter.

“What was… that sound?!” you laughed so hard you were choking on your words, and Andrew wasn’t in a better state as he answered.

“A whistle!”

“It’s not… not a whistle! It’s a trumpet at best…”

You couldn’t speak anymore, Andrew had to stop walking, holding onto his stomach as he bent over and laughed, laughed, laughed until there were tears falling on his glasses. You reached for him for support as you were lost to a new fit of laughter. He reached for you as well, meeting you halfway so you could hold onto his arm, and he could do the same.

Further down the path, Elwood was sending the pair of you a questioning look, but Andrew didn’t notice. He finally calmed down enough to stand straight, stretching fully his back again. He waited for you to be steady on your feet to let go, but you kept on holding onto him. He took off his glasses to dry them on his scarf.

“I can’t believe you’re mocking my secret talent,” he shook his head.

“This was hilarious. Ugh… my stomach hurts now.”

“Come on, we’re almost there! There’s such a nice view up the hill.”

“Give me a minute. I need to catch my breath.”

“Am I making you out of breath?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows and successfully making you laugh again, although he couldn’t help but regret having this playful flirt with you.

“Sometimes,” you admitted with a wink, and the sight made his heart skip several beats.

He hoped you would take his flushed cheeks for a consequence of his laughter, or the cold weather, or your walk even.

“Come on, we’re almost there!” he dragged you along further up the path until you had found back your usual pace.

You hurried as you noticed that the forest was less and less dense, the trees more spaced out until there was nothing above your heads but the greyish white of the sky. You almost ran the first few meters to the top of the hill, while Andrew looked at you, shaking his head and climbing at a more reasonable pace. Elwood was trotting next to you, tail wiggling in joy.

At the top of the hill, there were about twenty more meters to walk to reach a clear view of the valley below surrounded by the small mountains of the Wicklow hills. A river ran through the valley, a string of greyish blue in a land made of patches of browns and greens. He let you walk ahead for a bit, stopped when your silhouette seemed to be overseeing the valley. He took out his phone, snapped a picture of you with your red scarf blowing in the wind, a vivid contrast to the pale sky, with mountains before you and Elwood sitting at your feet. He could have stood there for hours, looking at the gorgeous landscape, the cotton-like sky, you… He felt so peaceful then, without his ordinary dread of time passing, of running out of precious moments, of missing what was important, of wasting the little amount of years he was allowed to spend on this earth. There was just today, and he had all the time in the world, so long as he could watch you like this…

You turned around then, grinning.

“Andy! It’s gorgeous out here!”

“Told you!” he spoke loudly to be heard over the wind that was blowing harder on the treeless space of the summit.

“Come here!”

You held out your hand for him, and Andrew walked over to you, held the hand you were offering in his. You gave his fingers a squeeze, grinning, before letting go and turning to the beautiful sight again.

“Thanks for bringing me here,” you leaned against him, and Andrew didn’t think as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, drawing you closer.

He heaved a sigh, taking in the view. Wild and peaceful and familiar. It felt like home. Your weight against him was grounding, reliable, warm. It felt like home, too.

And for a moment, while staring at the wilderness of the Irish landscape, Andrew felt human. Instead of a struggling adult with his love life in shambles who overworked to cope with the mess the rest of his life was, he felt like he knew what it meant to be alive on this earth. Being here, staring at the land spreading at his feet, with his dog rubbing his head against his jeans, with you in his arms… That was what being human was supposed to feel like…

“Let’s take a break before going back,” you offered. “I’ve brought snacks.”

He nodded, offered you some water but you surprised him with a thermos and proper snacks. You headed back along the track to escape the violent wind, the cold too intense to bare in the openness of the hilltop. You sat down on a rock, not far from the path, and handed Andrew one of the two small thermos you had brought with you, along with a little box in which you had prepared snacks for him.

“Thank you so much, that’s so sweet,” he grinned.

You pulled out some treats for Elwood too, and Andrew’s heart melted for good.

While you busied yourself with spoiling his dog, Andrew drank some of the tea you had made for him. He frowned hard at the taste. It was… exactly how he took it. It was undoubtedly the taste of his favourite brand, the flavour too strong, it had to have been made using two teabags instead of one. He opened the little box, found there two pieces of his favourite chocolate, some grapes and a couple of biscuits. His favourites, here again.

In eight years of relationship with Sam, she had never done anything for him that seemed so tailored to his taste.

He looked at your own snacks, same quantity, but different biscuits, chocolate and fruits. Tailored to your own taste.

You had gone out of your way to prepare this for him. And it was stupidly simple, if Andrew brought it up, you would brush it off as if it were nothing. But it was everything.

You knew him. You knew him, and you had prepared all this so he would enjoy it, because you knew him.

You knew him. You…

“Andy? You’re okay?”

He merely nodded, blinked tears away, looked down at the snacks resting on his knees.

“Thanks for the snacks. That’s really fucking sweet.”

“It’s nothing.”

“I love those.”

Your smile grew more tender.

“I know.”

You knew… you knew…

He struggled not to say the words on his tongue, knowing it would spoil everything, terrified at the thought that he truly felt this way. It was obvious though. Now that the words formed in his mind, they were obviously true, so painfully obvious, how could he have been so blind?

I love you.

[blogbirdfeather]

Shrubby Gromwell - Erva-das-sete-sangrias (Lithodora prostrata)

Sintra/Portugal (18/03/2023)

[Nikon D7100; ∑ 18/300mm DC Macro OS HSM with Flash Nissin DI 700A; 1/250s; F13; 400 ISO]

[faguscarolinensis]

Xylocopa virginica on Teucrium fruticans / Eastern Carpenter Bee on Shrubby Germander at the Sarah P. Duke Gardens at Duke University in Durham, NC

[botanyshitposts]

takeaways from seed hunting over the weekend:

-SOOOOO many seeds right now. GREAT time of year for seeds

-asters are off the chain rn making 20000 individual little seeds with little unique parachutes on them. i knew the family was huge but for some reason I didn’t know that so many of them did that for dispersal???

-big bluestem seeds are so cute and hairy and pretty and weirdly expressive. i found some on the side of the road and it’s like damn you guys just live here on the side of highway 30 looking like this?????

-WHERE did all the dandelions go?? it feels like there’s exponentially fewer of them around here (Iowa) than last year, I could only find like, one patch of them in town to sample.

-I found a shrubby weird plant outside a used farming equipment depo with big black pods attached that open and spill like, 2 little seeds per giant pod onto the ground around it. from just an initial investigation it looks like it’s some kind of bean, but not a soybean or a bean I recognize. wild times

-milkweed seeds on their GIANT poofs. i let them go on their way but I loved seeing them again, it seems like they’re mostly done blooming for now

-waiting patiently for the asters who don’t attach their seeds to parachutes to finish up so I can collect some

-I got some giant ragweed seeds, which is good because I was looking for them! unfortunately the inside of the container I collected them in is coated with pollen, though, so I might have to take it outside to clean them and get the flower bits out lmao