winterpinetrees

[winterpinetrees]

Uh, like this? (the secret 10th muse of stupid memes hit me with inspiration after seeing this post. So now you get a doodle)

,,I am the owner of the only one in the world, 24k gold labubu" meme but it's Melkor with his captive High King of The Noldor In Exile Nelyafinwë

[winterpinetrees]

The fact that Morgoth's duel with Fingolfin sucked so bad that not even his mindless yes men he spent years torturing into subservience will talk about it 💀imagine going back to the fortress after a fight you technically won and it's dead quiet so embarrassing

[winterpinetrees]

the concept of a respawn anchor is so funny. in the Overworld, when you're struck and fall, you wake up in your bed, tucked into the covers with a pillow behind your head. "it's okay," the universe says, for it is kind, "you can try again. rest until you're ready."

the respawn anchor drags your dead and burning body through the hellscape you've sent it to and stabs it through with lightning until you're up and feeling considerably worse than how you did at death. the box will spark and hiss and scream at you to feed it again, or you won't be making it back the next time you're pitched into molten lava.

"i am kind," the universe says. "so i provided you with a world that you could've easily chosen to remain in. player, you cannot sleep here. you forfeited your right to a bed by leaving the confines of my great kindness. if all that you seek is within you, you can do without me."

[Player was killed by Intentional Game Design]

[Player was resurrected by themself]

[winterpinetrees]

In archeology there are artifacts, which are items made or modified by humans, but there are also manuports, which haven't been modified but are found far from any possible origin point and there's no explanation besides somebody carried it there. Manuports include things like stones, fossils, and seashells, and have been found in deposits as much as three million years old.

So yeah, apparently the oldest human activity for which we have evidence is Picking Up Cool Rocks.

[winterpinetrees]

The problem with nuclear power plants is that you would want the workers to observe the processes carefully to avoid disaster, however nuclear power plants generate energy by boiling water, so the plant technicians can’t watch what’s happening or the water won’t boil due to the Watchpot Phenomenon. Thankfully scientists have overcome this hurdle in recent decades by squinting so the water thinks their eyes are closed and that it isn’t being watched

[winterpinetrees]

EVERYBODY GO WATCH THIS. It is said that once any fandom grows large enough, it will eventually produce a truly kick-ass animatic. Lokiwaffles has managed to do the entire process single-handly, by making an absolutely stellar animatic of ocs. Watch the video! You will not be disappointed!

(I did write a fanfic about the characters but it’s nowhere near as good as this video)

Hiiiiii

This was made during a terrible art block and has been in development since like April. Special thanks to @winterpinetrees for motivating me to finish it I owe you my life.

Check out her fic! It’s the most glorious piece of literature ever written: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68633466/chapters/17771633

Ummm yeah I’ll try to post more! And draw more. I missed the blorbos.

[winterpinetrees]

Headcanon that if Lenore Dove had lived, she would have grown up to be a schoolteacher.

Her love of books and philosophy, how she's always trying to teach Haymitch something new and doesn't get irritated if he struggles to understand, how she teaches Sid the constellations in the night sky.

Plus the idea that education is the greatest weapon against facism. I know the Capitol would probably demand that she stick to a specific curriculum, but I think she would have been like one of those teachers who subtly undermines the teachings of the school and thus shows her students how wrong they are. Like that one pro-gay teacher in Catholic schools.

And imagine students bringing her apples. Imagine her staying after school for hours to help a kid with an essay or reading assignment. Imagine her opening her classroom to vulnerable kids to sit in during lunch. Imagine her taking kids outside to learn about plant life. Or just taking them outside for a lesson because it's a nice day and she doesn't want to keep them cooped up in a stuffy classroom. Imagine her creating a library in her classroom of books for her students to borrow and read. Imagine her teaching kids how to make flower crowns during recess.

I think Lenore Dove would have been a schoolteacher.

[winterpinetrees]

On conservation and survival

[winterpinetrees]

1. American Pie

2. The Concorde? Was that post-Concorde era?

3. Krypton

4. Mars

5. Arthur Conan Doyle

6. Bats.

7. No idea. A normal non-lamp pot? Maybe it’s like Pandora’s Box again. Everything is a pot.

8. Sirius

9. Little Bear

10. cosmonaut

11. Heraldry

12. Arctic tern!

13. no idea

14. Red-tailed hawk (I have read exactly one pdf of an animorphs book)

15. Thomas Jefferson

16. JONATHAN LIVINGSTON SEAGULL. I have a personal grudge against that book. My nearly-retired English teacher in 8th grade forced us all to read it while lecturing us on new-agey philosophy and committing microagressions.

17. Auroras

18. Gobi desert

19. Frisbee

20. Tornados

This was fun!

Trivia Night: Look, Up in the Sky!

The following post contains twenty questions related in some way to skies, flying things, the atmosphere, or outer space.

Reblog with your answers under a “Read More” cut.

Use only your own mind. Do not look anything up. Do not look at what other people have answered. The answers will be posted one week from today. (That’s on Friday, the 8th of August.)

“Helter Skelter in a summer swelter, Byrds flew over the fallout shelter” and other musical allusions capture the turmoil of the 1960s in this Don McLean song.

The record for fastest flight across the Atlantic by a civilian airplane was set in 1996 by this Franco-British SST, or SuperSonic Transport.

Argo City, Kandor, the Phantom Zone, and the House of El all feature in the history of Superman’s lost home planet, _______. (You get it? Look, up in the sky…)

Quite the opposite of Earth, on this planet the daytime sky often has a pink or orange hue, while the setting sun looks blue.

Strange floating creatures attack an early aviator in The Horror of the Heights, a lesser-known work by this Sherlock Holmes creator.

These are the only living mammals able to fly under their own power. (Not counting humans flying through brainpower!)

In the original story of Aladdin, the flying carpet is conjured up not by the genie of the lamp, but by a lesser genie trapped inside of this object.

The Ancient Greeks called July and August the Dog Days of Summer because of the appearance of this bright nearby star just before dawn— but they couldn’t crank up the AC and satellite radio for relief.

A chillier Ancient Greek namesake, the Arctic and Antarctic regions are named for being respectively under and opposite the constellation Ursa Minor, the ______.

Heck, we still use Greek in space! “Sailor in the Universe” would be the literal translation of this term for a space traveler from the former USSR.

A relatively modern addition to this medieval field of artistic symbolism is the use of sky blue, or Bleu celeste, as a tincture to represent air forces.

With the turn of seasons, these birds fly from the Arctic to the Antarctic, covering more than 30,000 miles a year in the longest migration of any creature on Earth.

“Oh I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth/And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings…” begins this famous poem by John Gillespie Magee, notably quoted at a memorial service for the Challenger crew.

Members of this colorfully-named North American raptor species include Central Park’s Pale Male and Tobias from Animorphs.

Witnessing an early hot-air balloon flight in 1783, this famous American in Paris responded to critics of the invention by asking “What is the use of a newborn baby?”

This 1970 hippie lit classic pairs black-and-white photographs of seagulls with a novella about a three-named bird’s love of flight.

Solar outbursts, our planet’s magnetic field, and the gasses of our upper atmosphere combine to create this stunning spectacle usually seen at high latitudes.

Feathered dinosaur fossils discovered in this desert (located in China and Mongolia) have shed new light on the evolution of birds and the origins of flight.

In the Space-Age 1950s, early versions of this popular toy were sold as Pluto Platters and Flyin’ Saucers and even came with an enclosed “space license”.

The Enhanced Fujita Scale, from EF-1 to EF-5, measures which weather phenomenon?

[winterpinetrees]

More killjoy nerd, conciliatory diplomat Maedhros. Yeah, the fire in his eyes, but also his biggest achievements are giving up a crown and forming a union. He’s the one who sits out of boat burning, who goes to a parley knowing it’s a trap. He sits down and makes negotiations with people work. Even after the Nirnaeth, when his sanity is fraying, he still starts his efforts with letters (full of thinly veiled threats). He ran after Eluréd and Elurín because killing children is bad but also think of the political ramifications. This is a buzzkill who spent his adolescence confiscating throwing axes from brothers and cousins, breaking up raucous parties, and mediating fights. He carries a briefcase, did elven model UN, and though Thangorodrim and a brief bout of kingship make him more menacing he’s still at his core a guy with binders. What If The Fun Police Was Possessed Of A Blazing Flame Within And Burdened By A Terrible Oath.

[winterpinetrees]

Uhhhh this

[winterpinetrees]

"Maybe I'll kill that reporter who does all your interviews. Maybe I'll kill Clark Kent."

This is the most important line in the movie. I'm 100% serious. It tells you everything you need to know about Lex Luthor's character. It shows the audience that, despite being almost omnicognizant from the get-go, Luthor clearly has no fucking idea who Superman is, only what he does.

I've never seen anyone go from All-Knowing Evil to Absolute Fucking Loser so fast. In fifteen words he went from unstoppable criminal powerhouse to flailing manchild moron. He gave his Evil Dictator demonstration and then turned around, dropped his pants and showed his entire ass. He proclaimed his manifesto of unrelenting ego, turned around, slipped on a banana peel and landed on a whoopie cushion.

And he was so mired in his own sense of superiority that he never even knew it.

Lex Luthor, folks. Ten out of ten, no notes.

[winterpinetrees]

You know I had to do this.

[winterpinetrees]

It is crazy how many near-misses or incidents we had in the early space program that could have easily led to catastrophe. Liberty Bell 7 nearly dragging Gus under. Mission control not being able to tell if the heat shield was coming off on Friendship 7. Gemini IV's capsule door taking a hefty amount of manpower and a couple of tries to close after the EVA. The Gemini VI launch flub where they nearly had to use the ejection seats for what would have been a truly horrendous ride. Everything about Gemini VIII. Gene Cernan experiencing one of the worst spacewalks in history (second only to that one where the guy almost drowned) and MC and Stafford having to consider what to do if the dude couldn't make it back into the capsule, effectively having to decide how to kill him and whether or not to kill Stafford in the process. The guidance computer on LM5 nearly putting Neil and Buzz down on a field of boulders where if they had landed at an angle they likely wouldn't be able to safely take off again. The Apollo 12 lightning strikes. Apollo 13. Them literally landing on an insane angle at the edge of a crater on 15. The weird issues they had with LM oscillations on 16. ASTP ending with all three US astronauts in the hospital being treated for lung infections because something got fucked up in the checklist and they all ended up huffing hydrazine. And yet everything worked well enough to get to the Moon and back. Despite the amount of stuff that regularly broke, it was still incredibly effective, in part due to redundancies and the level-headedness of crew and MC members alike.

[winterpinetrees]

Cloud Gate (The Gap Years 2x15)

October 23rd

The group arrive in Chicago following a magical hunch. The answers they find are uncomfortable and incomplete. The whole world is like that, it turns out.

Previous

Navigation Guide

...........

Three rich kids walk into a trap. It’s like the start of a joke, or the midpoint of an action film. Truly, what better trap could there be for them than a mystery with the chance of an advantage at the other side? This latest sidequest could also be a stroke of genius, or nothing at all. Maybe Sierra has been tracking nonsense signals, like when cosmologists mistook the buzzing of a break room microwave for radiation left over from the Big Bang. This can’t be a microwave though. She hasn’t picked up any more signals since the ones they used to triangulate Chicago as the origin point, but they picked up those from hundreds of miles away! Sierra was working with sensors made of scrap. Real scientists with government money can detect things weak enough to get twisted up with home appliances, but not a kid like her. Something huge is happening in Chicago, and they’re going in as fast as they can.

Unfortunately, that speed is about the pace of a car moving through traffic. Making matters worse is the fact that they don’t have an exact location. Their emissary has failed for once. She hasn’t found any official explanations of weirdness at the south end of Lake Michigan. She also can’t corroborate their magical signals. The elven world is filled with magic like the human one is full of radio. No one in the human world is keeping track of every strong broadcast, and neither are the elves. 

If the elven authorities aren’t responsible, that leaves only stranger causes. It could be elves still loyal to Marin, emboldened with each failure to catch this car. Independent rebels are angry too after what happened to Maze and dozens of other Betrayed settlements. Maybe the USA is messing with magical weaponry again, no matter how poorly that ended back at Project Excalibur. All they know is that the people responsible are being secretive, but not secretive enough to stop them. The signal that draws them is a single flickering light, not a beacon, but why leave anything visible at all? Hopefully the four of them are more hidden as they approach. 

“The US wouldn’t risk magical experiments in a city of three million people after what happened at Excalibur. It’s still radioactive there, remember?” argues Brian, whose guess was Lazarin loyalists. 

“That would be why they're in a city! Elves are always on their best behavior around cameras and civilians. They wouldn’t irradiate three million people" Marin replies. 

“Three million is just the main city of Chicago,” adds Clay, who’s expecting to find commoner rebels using the pulses to communicate. “A full nuclear disaster would a lot more, not counting agriculture and water”. Then he turns to look out the window and his voice goes quiet. “Though the plague will kill billions, so it’s possible they don’t care anymore”. 

“I don’t care if Ishtar Mercuralis is starting a plague or kidnapping Betrayed kids. No one is nuking Chicago”. 

Sierra, for her part in all of this, is hoping the scientists are responsible. Surely nuclear physics, which is so much like magic in certain ways, could be the source of these signals? Hell, there’s a particle accelerator like 30 miles outside the city. When it fires is private information, but every five minutes or so on weekday evenings for an hour seems reasonable? She’ll admit she’s more interested in reactors than delicate research. 

They’re still discussing the morals of elvenkind when they break through the traffic and park downtown, not too far from the art museum. It’s there they spend the rest of the afternoon, and Sierra trails behind the boys as they point out one famous painting after another. Marin prefers sculpture, actually (there’s something about three-dimensional art that illusions can’t grasp), but at least Sierra recognizes the one with the couple with a pitchfork in front of a farmhouse and that’s something. They leave at closing time, and something draws them towards the infamous mirrored Bean in the square outside. It warps their reflections like light around a black hole, and she finds herself drawn in closer to it in the same way that a black hole doesn’t. A black hole is a point of infinite density, but it behaves like anything else. They don’t suck things in, the special part is only that nothing ever leaves. She reaches out to touch it. 

“Don’t touch that,” Brian says worriedly. 

“Why not? You think someone cursed The Bean?” She retracts her hand. After five months on the road and a lifetime together, there’s no reason for doubt. 

He winces. “I know how stupid this sounds, but the Bean isn’t actually called the Bean. It’s called the Cloud Gate, and it’s by the same guy who tried to copyright the really dark black paint”.

Really? Vantablack? Her dad bought a sample of that once. It’s in her room now.  “So what, you think it’s a gate? A portal?”

“No, not really, I’m just freaked out in general”. 

Marin steps forward, plants one palm on the curved side of The Bean/Cloud Gate. His reflection looks normal enough at close range, with a furrowed brow and glowing green eyes. “I’m still here. Portals don’t work like that anyway. You have to use the void, and the only clouds associated with that not-place are galactic ones”. 

Sierra continues to watch her reflection, making eye contact with the others through the Bean. 

Brian crosses his arms. “So what’s the deal with the void anyway? It’s outside of time and reality, but you guys also talk about it like an afterlife. How much do you actually know?”

“The Void is pure magic, or maybe magic is the void contaminating reality. It’s easily molded by thoughts, like a stronger version of how magic allows thoughts to mold reality. Time and distance don’t exist there, unless a thinking witness imposes time and distance onto it”.

“Like quantum uncertainty?” Sierra asks. “When the void is observed it collapses from infinite possibilities into a single state?”

“Exactly like that, actually! Elves “teleport” by entering the void and collapsing it into a shorter distance than it should be. It’s possible for any decently skilled elf to do on their own, but that’s unbelievably stupid. The void is deadly. If you lose track of your thoughts, specifically time, distance, sense of self, et cetera, you just blink out of existence”. 

“And you guys use these portals like airports?” 

“And? How often do planes crash again? Only solo travel is dangerous anyway. Once there are thousands of people in the void at all hours, in a building constructed with normal architecture that feels like it’s anchored to real ground, the void backs off and lets reality win. Besides, there’s always Betrayed monitors as well, and the void is perfectly stable when they’re around”.

“Oh my god it’s always Omelas with these kids. Why do you need them?” Brian says.

“They stabilize the void. It isn’t chaotic for them”. Marin explains casually. “The same ability that cancels magic around them also means they don’t have a risk of blinking out of existence”. 

“To reiterate, these are the kidnapped children?” Brian continues.

“Oh yeah, totally. Invasion requires new infrastructure, and honestly I wouldn’t want to use a voidport that hadn’t been stabilized by one of them, even if I was with a crowd. The void is how we got into this mess. It drove my mother’s twin insane. The Mercurali need more Betrayed to make more safe portals”. 

“So the basic infrastructure of global elf society is once again powered by tormented children”.

Sierra turns away from the Bean to step between them. “Wait, Marin, do you even know what Brian’s referencing?” 

“The story about how evil is boring and we need to stop accepting that something has to have a dark side to be possible, right? The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas?”

Brian shakes his head, not to signal the word “no”, but just to get his thoughts in order. “Yes, but that’s not the point! Omelas runs thanks to a tortured child, and what the hell man, between the prisons and the voidports does all of your critical infrastructure depend on these random kids?”

Marin doesn’t speak for a moment. He hesitates long enough for Clay to chime in that political prisons aren’t critical infrastructure. Sierra wonders if this is a question Marin has asked before, and if learned that this is simply the way of the world like how she learned that metal simply has to be ripped out of pristine rainforests by unpaid children. What would she say if someone asked why?

He settles on a response. “They aren’t supposed to be children”.

“But isn’t that when the Betrayed are, well, when they stop being normal elves?”

“It is, but they’re supposed to have some time to grow up first. Working in the void is an honor. Most of them choose it, even with the discomfort, over staying in self-imposed exile. Or at least that’s what I’ve been told”. Marin holds his hands in front of him. “Nobles rarely see the Betrayed unless something has gone wrong. We burn them like the sun”.

“Well that’s fun and above our pay grade to solve,” Sierra says, desperate to move the conversation away from something they can’t hope to solve. 

They walk off, having resolved nothing. They’re actually sitting down eating dinner at a restaurant when the receiver pings, and there’s no time to wait for a check so Clay and Marin excuse themselves while the other two order dessert. They crunch the new numbers at the hotel. Now the signal points directly east, at the tantalizingly close distance of only thirty-five miles, give or take a few. Sierra pulls up Google maps and draws a line. The satellite image of the destination shows a circular ring of water, and she knows that beneath it is Fermilab’s famous particle accelerator. She gives them a quick explanation that’s half explanation of the building and half gushing about Enrico Fermi. 

“Does that mean we win?” Is all Marin says in response. 

“Win what?” she replies.

“We both guessed that humans were behind the signals. I can’t imagine that my mother’s supporters are bunkered down in a lab she probably plotted to destroy. I think the same for independent rebels. Either the US government is behind this, or Cai’s physicists are”. 

Brian concedes defeat. “Why can’t it be both? Project Excalibur was government funded, and I assume this place is too. It’s not UC Berkeley or anything”. 

No one has a good answer, though Clay does mutter that the current presidential administration has cut a lot of funding for science. 

“It might be. I have a second question though. How do we get in?” Marin asks. 

Clay shrugs. “The same way we’ve gotten in everywhere. Magic and trespassing”.

“No, that won’t work. Remember how I was nearly shot at the college by the salt lake? A lab like this is sure to be even more guarded. We can’t risk making them our enemies”.

They all grumble. After a lifetime of tedious parties and social networking, five months as solitary heroes has been a dream. It’s easy to forget that the world doesn’t revolve around them…

Everyone opens their devices, except for Marin, who looks over Clay’s shoulder.  

“Fermilab is open to visitors. We could split off from a tour group?”

“No good. Look how rarely they happen”.

“It looks like a lot of staff live on site. Could we, this is going to sound terrible, sneak in there?”

“I don’t think breaking into someone’s house is a good idea”. 

“Surely most of the weapons are in the lab, not in houses”. 

Then Marin points at a link about the Fermilab herd of bison and no further progress is made that night. They shoot a message to their emissary just in case she has better ideas. The next morning, research continues. Their emissary confirms that Fermilab is definitely full of Cai’s physicists. This new place was also attacked a month ago, and sustained heavy but salvageable damage. The website confirms that the accelerator will be down for most of the next year. 

Essie has also provided the names and addresses of a few staff, which must mean she approves of the idea to break into the staff housing. While the lab itself might have tech set up to catch illusions, and guns under the floorboards like the University of Utah, individual homes shouldn’t. They can fight two people anyway. After some discussion, they pick a senior quantum physicist as a target. Her name is Dr Ellen Meng, and Sierra vaguely recognizes the name. She’s about fifty and the headshot on her website shows an injured ear and scar tissue across one cheek from when Project Excalibur was destroyed. She has made no effort to hide the damage. In fact, she almost seems proud of it. Surely, this is a warrior. 

It turns out that the bison herd is relevant. Brian drives the car up to the east entrance, and if the security guard recognizes any of the kids in the car as they hand over IDs, he doesn’t show it. Even Marin doesn’t hide, instead showing a perfectly forged driver’s license that he requested from the elven government months before the quest began. It says he’s the youngest of the four. When the guard asks for the purpose of their visit, he mentions the bison with enough enthusiasm that the guard actually smiles. 

“We all thought they’d be extinct here by now,” Marin gives as an explanation as they leave. Brian parks in the lot used by tourists who want to hike the restored prairie. They place their weapons in Marin’s messenger bag and he casts a spell to hide their walk in the wrong direction. Dr.Meng and her husband live relatively close to the entrance in a single-family home. It’s late morning on a Saturday, so they should be at home.  There’s two cars in the garage, anyway. 

“Do we knock?” Sierra whispers. On a stranger’s front porch, all of this seems much worse. 

“They should see me first. That way they will know this is a magic situation,” Marin explains. 

Clay steps right up to the door “What if they attack you? You’re, well…”

“I have the same magic as the woman who destroyed Project Excalibur. Or were you alluding to the fact that I’m Black?”

“Mostly the former”.

Marin takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell. Before long they see movement, and Marin lets them know the couple inside are asking each other if they were expecting any visitors. Dr. Meng’s husband walks past the front door and stops in his tracks. His eyes meet Marin’s, which are glowing a particularly vibrant emerald. The prince raises his hands in surrender. The human rushes away, then slowly returns to the door. 

Marin somehow projects magic into his voice, and Sierra wonders if this is what he really sounded like when they first met. “Excuse us, but my name is Marin Sondaica. We’re here to speak with Doctor Ellen Meng. That name will mean more to her than to you”. 

The husband is a middle-aged Asian man. He doesn’t have any scars, but his fear is distinct. He’s scared of Marin as an elf, not as a stranger.  

“It means enough to me. You’re one of the fae. Sondaica green, like the queen”.

The makeshift terminology takes them all off guard, but Marin nods. Fairies, elves, whatever. “We call ourselves elves these days. My family, including the woman who led the attack on Project Excalibur, have been overthrown. The new rulers are even more eager to attack. We’re here to help. May we come in?”

Can fairies enter a home without an invitation? Some fantastical creature follows that rule Still, politeness goes a long way. 

“You may”. Her husband waves them in, and Marin actually takes his shoes off at the door. They find Ellen standing in the living room. Her scarring is even more pronounced in person, and there’s a distinct traumatized look in her eyes as she stares at Marin. It’s a familiar expression. Sierra would have the same one if she saw Amedi again. 

Marin stares right at her. “We followed a signal here. It seemed unintentional? There were pulses most nights, a few minutes apart. My friend triangulated the source”.

The husband murmurs something, and Ellen’s jaw drops. Then she recovers to a grimace, and a furious laugh. 

“That bastard!” She turns to Marin. “Not you. Your cousin? He told someone he used to be a Sondaica, once. We told him it was too visible!” 

Clay turns back to the group and mouths “cousin?” Marin shakes his head.

“Do they have weird clouded eyes and look like they haven’t seen the sun in decades?”

The scientists nod. “That’s the Professor, alright”.

“That's my mother’s twin. Cai Sondaica. Why do you hate them? I thought they saved people?”

She reaches one hand up to touch what remains of her ear. “That doesn’t mean he isn’t hell to work with”.

..........

One more chapter and then I take a break, perhaps for a long time. This scene has been in my head for a while.

Cai Sondaica uses any and all pronouns with no meaningful preference. Most elves default to she/her, the road trip group go for neutral, which Marin has started to adopt, and most human scientists assume he/him. Whatever's most convenient at the time.

@lokiwaffles @reggie246

[winterpinetrees]

it is just funny to me that odysseus in epic has for some reason like. a well-developed, vaguely christian commitment to mercy and forgiveness. in mythical homeric greece. and is just constantly experiencing genre horror as everyone around him is like wtf are you talking about, just kill them. where did you get these concepts

[winterpinetrees]

Happy National Moon Day!

The astronauts brought me an appreciation for science and human ingenuity, a better understanding of the natural world, and a sense of whimsy.

What did you get?