In the nameless midwest a puppy encounters a force he doesn’t understand.
Music: “Evil Ball” by Sinoia Caves
You’ll be able to peel the shell off and compost the skin like a banana peel or, take a step beyond biodegradable, eat the whole thing like you would chew a grape.
Sign up early, if you want a spot; these pants fill up fast!
The Wayfinder Experience in Your Pants
Unlocking the Life Force in Your Pants
The Marks of Our Existence in Your Pants
Say “No” to Stress in Your Pants
Storming Heaven in Your Pants
Compose Yourself in Your Pants
Trees & Ecosystems in Your Pants
Frequencies of Healing in Your Pants
Enter Through the Image in Your Pants
Dreamgates in Your Pants
Leap of Perception in Your Pants
Timeless Loving in Your Pants
(via NBCNews PhotoBlog)
Mercedes-Benz G63 AMG 6×6
Daily problems that come with living in Oymyakon include pen ink freezing, glasses freezing to people’s faces and batteries losing power. Locals are said to leave their cars running all day for fear of not being able to restart them.
Even if there was coverage for mobile phone reception the phones themselves would not work in such cold conditions.
(via The Daily Mail)
I didn’t know this when I started this blog, but apparently I make GIFs. Most of them are of wildlife and things I find funny or interesting.
Although there are probably too many images of ladybugs expressing physical love, you should take a look. I didn’t link any of the site’s images here because, you know, GIFs can make you go a little insane after a while.
Well, I guess it’s okay if I put some below the fold:
Can someone please draw me a picture of a social or colonial spider?
Also, ravens are way cool. I never met a corvid I didn’t like.
They’re clever. And they play in the snow.
Plus, The Ravens was the name The Kinks had before they were The Kinks.
(Citrullus lanatus) Traditional Russian variety introduced to American gardeners by SSE in 1991. Round 10-12″ fruits with a very dark green rind and sweet red flesh. Early maturing variety that is well suited for northerly gardens and high altitudes. Great little icebox melon, holds for several weeks after picking. 80-90 days.
Every year cats in New Zealand destroy our native wildlife. The fact is that cats have to go if we really care about our environment.
When oil comes to the surface, it often brings natural gas with it, and according to North Dakota’s Department of Mineral Resources, 29 percent of the natural gas now extracted in North Dakota is flared off. Gas isn’t as profitable as oil, and the energy companies don’t always build the pipes or systems to carry it away. For a year (with extensions), North Dakota allows drillers to burn gas, just let it flare. There are now so many gas wells burning fires in the North Dakota night, the fracking fields can be seen from deep space.
The strong and gusty winds may cause driving difficulties for high profile and lightweight vehicles.
Lightweight objects will also likely be blown around and small branches may break.
Use extra caution if you are traveling or headed outdoors this Saturday evening.
Ordinarily I hold to a non-interventionist policy when it comes to feeding the wildlife, but recent weeks have seen such snow and unrelenting, bitter cold that I’ve gone against principle and strewn random treats in high-traffic areas. (High animal traffic, that is. I don’t want to lure the critters anywhere near automobiles.) For the vegetarians and omnivores: blueberries, celery, and bits of bread. For the cats: chicken scraps and raw (broken) eggs.
This is where we go when we follow the water. Down it flows—that’s science—and we race it to the ocean. Not quickly enough. The stream dwindles to mud that shines and then dulls. I feel as if I can hear the waves wash the rocks, just past where the pastures rise. We were so close this time. We’ll try again another day. Tomorrow’s weather forecast says rain.
The leaves of Yarrow are also more finely divided. In fact, the species name millefolium literally means “ a thousand leaves”. It’s kind of like a millipede, but different.
I had a fright this past week. I was afraid I had made a monkey of myself. Been making a monkey of myself over yarrow. And I have, but not so much as I feared, it turns out.
Charlie had told me last year he did not know what yarrow looked like, and I’d told him I’d point it out once it was in blossom again. And now, even with the drought and the recent heat wave, the persistent weedy things of the world are in blossom, it being high summer and all. So when I saw Charlie at the store the other day, I said, “Yarrow, yarrow everywhere!”
I told him it was that white flowering stuff you saw on verges and at the edges of the golf courses.
He said, “I though that was Queen Anne’s lace.”
Morning weather chums Jude here. A cloudy start, grey, damp & murky too for many parts, esp the east. Staying murky along east coast. TBC
— BBC Scotland Weather (@BBCScotWeather) July 3, 2012
BBC Scotland Weather. It’s a thing.
(Thanks to Wil Freeborn.)
Meet my friend Pat Quesnel, the first person to row solo across the Pacific . . .
I was looking around for photos for a project using these terms: man and boat, man and row boat, small boat and man, arctic row boat, Faroes row boat, falling row boat, row boat tiny, row boat at sea, row boat ocean, rowing archive, rowing museum, Faroes metal boats tiny Ocean, skiff, skiff and man, high-walled skiff, and Faroes skiff. This photo turned up on ebay and I thought “Well, maybe. It’s a newspaper photo, rights should be reasonable,” and so I saved a copy in my project folder. I rejected the photo for the job but bothered to read the caption before I tossed it and, fuck a Roosevelt Elk, it’s my old friend Pat Quesnel from Kodiak, the first person to row solo across the Pacific. I have not contacted him in years but I still miss his company.
With tiny trees, of course. Kim Keever makes some fascinating miniature landscapes and photographs them in a 200 gallon tank.
Our Lucy says they look like dendrites.
Now that I know my friends in Dallas County were spared the ravages of the tornadoes that hit north central Texas yesterday, I can laugh over this video from the town of Forney, east of the city of Dallas.
“It is coming our way, y’all. I swear to God, it’s coming our way. It is coming toward us, y’all. Get in the building.”
“Get in here now, Michael. Come on. Come here, Bradley. Come here quick. Hurry. Hurry. Hurry, hurry, hurry. Here he is.”
It’s not all that different from what my mother did when a tornado tore up our section of Dallas in 1957.
She walked down the block to a neighbor’s house and climbed up onto the roof with him to watch. I recall standing in our own front yard and observing this. I was barely three.
That day eludes me, the specifics of it. I find myself sleepy after a single glass of whiskey now, so I struggle to recall what strange elixirs and potions we whipped up and slung down for hour upon endless hour. A warm sort of hazy summer day. I remember wild tea vodka and orange juice, champagne and beers, sobering up slightly in the afternoon but not for long.
It literally seems impossible now, and I think it must have been a very very specific sort of order, some magical combination at a macrobiotic level that lead us like a guiding light. A gentle hand outstretched that never became a pounding hateful fist. I woke up ready to do it again. I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.
Cumberland is beautiful, in the mountains of western Maryland where it can be very cold even in May and early June. Of course “very cold” is subjective and some might not agree. Midwesterners, specifically.
I was living in Baltimore when I needed to visit a Cumberland newspaper editor. I called early that morning to check on conditions and the editor said, “The weather is great, come on up.” It started sleeting, then snowing as my car began the ascent. I was barely out of Alabama at that point and thought I surely would not survive.
We celebrated my survival with lunch at “the town’s best restaurant,” the bowling alley. It was quite good!
The finalists for Smithsonian Magazine’s 9th Annual Photo Contest were just announced and voting for the Readers’ Choice selection is currently open. There are some true gems covering all manner of subject matter – what a wonderful world we live in.
(Photo credit: Village Boys Relaxing by Nimai Chandra Ghosh, finalist in the People category)