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nasa · 5 years

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10 Ground-breaking Earth Satellite Images from 2018

In 2018, our satellites captured beautiful imagery from throughout the solar system and beyond. However, some of our favorite visualizations are of this very planet. While this list is by no means exhaustive, it does capture some Earth satellite images from this year that are both visually striking as well as scientifically informative. This list also represents a broad variety of Earth’s features, as well as satellite instrumentation. Take a journey with our eyes in the sky!

10. Hurricane Florence

Before making landfall, Hurricane Florence churned in the Atlantic for a full two weeks — making it among the longest-lived cyclones of the 2018 season. When it finally did hit land on Sep. 14, the storm devastated the southeastern U.S. coast with intense winds, torrential rains and severe flooding.

This natural-color image was acquired by MODIS on the Terra Satellite on Sep. 12, 2018.

Images like this, as well as other satellite information, were used to anticipate the impact of the storm. Our Disasters Program created flood proxy maps that were shared with the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) and the National Guard to estimate how many and which communities would be most affected by the storm, in order to help prepare recovery efforts ahead of time.

9. Australia’s Lake Eyre Basin

The Lake Eyre Basin covers one-sixth of Australia and is one of the world’s largest internally draining river systems. However, the rivers supported by this system are ephemeral, meaning that they only run for short periods of time following unpredictable rain — the rest of the time, the Basin is a dry, arid desert.

However, when the heavy rain comes, the basin erupts in an explosion of green. In this false-color image captured by the Operational Land Imager (OLI) on Landsat 8 on Apr. 25, 2018, you can see how the vegetation completely envelops the spaces where the water has receded. (Flood water is indicated by light blue, and vegetation is indicated by light green.)

Satellites are an excellent tool for tracking greening events that are followed by flooding. These events offer opportunities for predictive tools as well as recreation.

8. Alaska’s Chukchi Sea

A Monet painting comes to life as the Chukchi Sea swirls with microscopic marine algae.

This image was captured off the Alaskan coast by OLI on Landsat 8 on Jun. 18, 2018. After the Arctic sea ice breaks up each spring, the nutrient-rich Bering Sea water mixes with the nutrient-poor Alaskan coastal water. Each type of water brings with it a different type of phytoplankton and the surface waters have just enough light for the algae to populate and flourish. The result is these mesmerizing patterns of turquoise and green.

This image represents one piece of much larger, incredibly complex ecosystem. While one would not normally associate the breaking up of sea ice with phytoplankton blooms, it is an intricate process of the phytoplankton life cycle. The size of the blooms have varied greatly from year to year, and experts are unsure why. Images like these can help scientists track the development of these blooms and link it to other environmental changes.

7. Hawaii’s Kilauea

Sometimes fresh lava is best viewed in infrared.

This false-color image of Kilauea, captured by OLI on Landsat 8 on May 23, 2018, shows the infrared signal emitted by lava flowing toward the sea. The purple areas surrounding the glowing lava are clouds lit from below, indicating that this image was taken through a break in the clouds.

The Puʻu ʻŌʻō Kupaianaha eruption has been continuously spewing red-hot lava since 1983, making it the longest eruption at Kilauea in recorded history. However, new fissures opened up this year that forced many to evacuate the area. Hawaii’s largest lake evaporated in hours and hundreds of homes were destroyed in Vacationland and Kapoho.

Imagery, seismometers and ground-based instruments were used to track the underground movement of magma. Infrared imagery can be incredibly helpful in disasters like this when you to view data that cannot be observed with the naked eye.

6. California’s Woolsey Burn Scar

Nothing quite encapsulates the destruction of a wildfire like a photo from outer space.

This image of the Woolsey Fire aftermath in Southern California was captured on Nov. 18, 2018 by the Advanced Spaceborned Thermal Emission and Reflection Radiometer (ASTER) on the Terra satellite. This false-color infrared image has been enhanced to clearly show the burned vegetation (indicated by brown) and the vegetation that survived unscathed (indicated by green).

The Woolsey Fire clearly left its mark, with almost 152 square miles (394 square km) and 88% of the Santa Monica Mountains National Recreation Area badly burned. Images like this one can assist fire managers in the area plan for recovery.

5. Bangladesh’s Padma River

As the years go by, the Padma River grows and shrinks, twists and turns. It never has a fixed shape, and as a result, thousands of people must regularly adapt to the constant changes in the river’s 75-mile (130-km) shoreline.

This image captured on Jan. 20, 2018 by OLI on Landsat 8 depicts one of the major rivers of Bangladesh. For thirty years, scientists have been tracking the erosion of the river with satellite imagery. Combinations of shortwave infrared, near infrared, and visible light are used to detect differences year-to-year in width, depth, and shape of the river. Sometimes the river splits off, but then rejoins again later. These patterns are created by the river carrying and depositing sediment, shaping the curves of the path of water.

Monitoring the Padma River is going to become especially important as a new bridge development project advances in the Char Janajat area. Although the bridge will most certainly help shorten travel times for citizens, nobody is quite sure how the river erosion might affect the construction and vice versa.

4. Alaska’s Yakutat Glacier

It’s hard to believe that Harlequin Lake was once all dry land — but it only started to form once Yakutat Glacier started melting. The lake appeared at the beginning of the twentieth century, and has been growing rapidly ever since.

In this hauntingly beautiful image, captured on Sep. 21 2018 by OLI on Landsat 8, the effect of climate change is apparent — especially when compared to earlier images of the region.

Unless the climate warming starts to reverse very soon — which scientists consider very unlikely — Yakutat could be gone as soon as 2070.

3. South Africa’s Theewaterskloof

Cape Town is a seaside city planted on the tip of South Africa. It’s a city known for its beaches and biodiversity — it also almost became known as the first major city to officially run out of water.

This image of Cape Town’s largest reservoir — Theewaterskloof — was acquired on Jul. 9th, 2018 by OLI on Landsat 8. By the time this photo was taken, the city’s main reservoirs stood at 55%. This was a huge increase from where it stood just six months earlier: just 13%.

The severe water shortage in the region started in 2015, only to become more threatening after three successive and unusually dry years. The entire city was preparing for Day Zero — the day the tap water would be shut off.

Despite forecasts that Day Zero would arrive in April, a combination of heavier rains and local conservation efforts restored the majority of the reservoir.

2. Aerosol Earth

Aerosols are all around us. From the smoke from a fire, to the dust in the wind to the salt in sea spray — these solid particles and liquid droplets are always swirling in our atmosphere, oftentimes unseen.

The Goddard Earth Observing System Forward Processing (GEOS FP) model uses mathematical equations to model what is happening in our atmosphere. The inputs for its equations — temperature, moisture, wind, etc. — come from our satellites and ground sensors.

This visualization was compiled on Aug. 24, 2018 — obviously a busy day for aerosols in our atmosphere. Swirls of sea salt (indicated by blue) reveal typhoons Soulik and Cimaron heading straight towards South Korea and Japan. A haze of black carbon (indicated by red) suffuse from agricultural burning in Africa and large wildfires in North America. And clouds of dust (indicated by purple) float off the Sahara desert.

1. Camp Fire

With nearly a hundred fatalities, hundreds of thousands of acres burned and billions of dollars of damage, the world watched in horror as Camp Fire grew to become the most destructive California wildfire in recorded history.

This image was captured on Nov. 8, 2018 by OLI on Landsat 8 on the same day Camp Fire ignited. It consolidates both visible light and shortwave-infrared light in order to highlight the active fire. Strong winds and dry conditions literally fanned the flames and spread this wildfire like a rash.

This image has not only become the iconic portrait for Camp Fire, it is also sobering representation of how quickly a fire can grow out of control in a short amount of time. Even from space, you can almost smell the massive plumes of smoke and feel the heat of the fires.

Whether you realize it or not, our Earth satellite missions are collecting data everyday in order to monitor environmental changes and prepare for natural disasters. If your interest is piqued by this list, head over to the Earth Observatory. The Earth Observatory updates daily with fresh, new content — brought to you by none other than our eyes in the sky.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space: http://nasa.tumblr.com

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jkottke · 5 years

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Beavers and Media Theory

In this short gem of an article for Wired, Virginia Heffernan connects the ecological transformation of the pre-human Americas by beavers to Marshall McLuhan...and then to climate change.

Having gnawed their way across the Bering Land Bridge with their iron-glazed teeth, beavers by the tens of millions straight-up built North America. They worked like rodent Romans, subjugating the deciduous forests with formidable infrastructure: canals, lodges, dams that can last centuries, and deep still-water pools used to float building materials. By clear-cutting trees and blocking streams, the nocturnal, semiaquatic creatures also damaged the environment in some of the same ways humans do. Much later, beavers unexpectedly became the toast of a rarefied academic circle at the University of Toronto, where they inspired, of all things, media theory.

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gemstone-gynoid · 5 years

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History final work on at least 2 of 4 of age of invasions, the mongols, humanism/ the reformation, mesoamerica/spain

1- Vikings hungarians Turks feudal system lords vassals serfs

2- the steppe nomads foraging trade clan tribe confederation chinggis khan

3 humanism virtue Greek Latin classics nationstates the church Martin Luther indulgences 95 theses protestantism

4 bering straight land bridge olmecs Inca mayans Aztecs Spanish unification constantinople Portugal columbo new spain

#classwork

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ainawgsd · 7 years

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Carolina Dog

The Carolina Dog, also called the American Dingo, the Dixie Dingo, the Southern Dingo, the Native American Dog, the Indian's Dog, and the Southern Aboriginal Dog, was originally a landrace type of dog which was rediscovered living as a wild dog or free roaming dog by Dr. I. Lehr Brisbin in the 1970s, and originally documented in American dog breed publications in the 1920s. Carolina Dogs often live in isolated stretches of longleaf pines and cypress swamps in the Southeastern United States. Carolina Dogs are a medium sized dog, that have buff, fawn or ginger-colored coats (sometimes, but less commonly, black or piebald) similar to that of Australian dingos, with or without small white markings on toes, chest, tail tip and muzzle. In the wild, Carolina Dogs often live in sparsely settled land instead of the highly populated areas stray dogs commonly occupied. However there are sizeable wild populations in metro Atlanta's wooded areas even near industrial plants and major highways.

One of the earliest publications to document Carolina Dogs was the article "Dogs of the American Aborigines" by Glover Morrill Allen, published in 1920 by the Museum of Comparative Zoology at Harvard College.

It was proposed that Mitochondrial DNA testing might prove a link between primitive dogs and Carolina dogs. Brisbin stated, "We grabbed them out of the woods based on what they look like, and if they were just dogs their DNA patterns should be well distributed throughout the canine family tree. But they aren't. They're all at the base of the tree, where you would find very primitive dogs." This was not conclusive, but it did spark interest into more extensive DNA testing.

Though it is still unconfirmed, the theory is that Carolina dogs are related to the primitive dogs that migrated to North America alongside humans thousands of years ago. Brisbin notes that the Carolina dog is nearly identical in appearance to the chindo-kae, a breed native to Chindo Island, Korea, which has been free of hybridization with more modern dogs. This further bolsters Brisbin's hypothesis that if primitive dogs on each side of the Bering Straight land bridge look alike, then perhaps they did arrive with people, and that the Carolina dog may be a close descendent.

Whatever studies are needed to unravel the mysteries of this unique wild dog with its unusual habits and appearance will have to happen quickly, as time is running out for its existence in the isolated swamps and forests of the southeast. The population of free-roaming wild Carolina dogs has significantly declined, and continues to decline with the encroachment of humans, domestic dogs and coyotes into their once isolated territories.

The Carolina dog is now recognized as a pure breed by the United Kennel Club, which could help protect it from losing its genetic uniqueness. They can make quality family pets in experienced households, and there are several organizations dedicated to breeding and rescuing Carolina dogs to keep their line going. But selective breeding by humans also puts them back into the realm of domestic dog. As Brisbin notes, "Even when based on documented wild-caught founders, such continued management under conditions of captive breeding cannot be expected to maintain those traits which set these animals apart from all other domestic dogs."Though their genetic line may be preserved, the room for the wildness that made the Carolina dog what it is, is rapidly disappearing.

mnn article

#animal abc's #C #carolina dog #american dingo #dixie dingo #southern dingo #native american dog #indian's dog #Southern Aboriginal Dog #north american wild dog #rare breed #landrace #pariah dog #dogs #north american animals #source: google

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xixonau · 5 years

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The Beringians were an Ice Age hunter-gatherers from Asia, who are believed to be the First Americans, that lived in a land area that does not exist today, since it is covered by the sea of the Bering Straight between Siberia and Alaska. This land bridge of Beringia existed around 15,000-30,000 years ago. During an epoch of a severe Ice Age that impacted Earth. The Beringians lived in this coastal land that extended west to the Yana River of north eastern Siberia. See the attached map of Beringia: a large region spanning the north-east corner of what is now Russia and modern Alaska. At the time, sea levels were lower (probably 100m lower than present) and North America was connected to Asia at this point.

These people were isolated from the rest of human populations during this Last Great Ice Age because the uncrossable ice sheet deserts prevented them moving south and west and also east across into North America.

When the climate warmed up and ice started to melt at around 15000 years ago, the Beringians moved quickly eastwards into North America, and some groups may have gone south across east Asia, eventually crossing the Indonesian archipelago into Australia.

The small band of Paleolithic pioneers stood on the threshold of a new world. To the south were the Americas, 40 million square kilometres of virgin territory including wide-open prairies, dense rainforests and high mountain chains. An epic journey was about to begin – but only because a remarkable adventure had just ended.The band split into two groups. One stayed in north-eastern part of the North American continent. The second group moved quickly southwards along the the western coastline eventually reaching Mexico and then South America.

In time, their descendants would create giant artworks in the Nazca desert of Peru, begin humanity’s love affair with chocolate in the forests of Ecuador, and build great civilisations in Mexico. Today’s Native American populations still carry the genetic legacy of those remarkable frontiers folk.

#native americans

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beatricethecat2 · 7 years

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if/then - 7

I've been fussing over the mechanics of the next few chapters for a while now, figuring out when and where to drop clues, as some pushback will happen in the upcoming arc. I apologize for the lack of Helena in this chapter, but she'll reappear, fully formed, in chapter 8. Also, I admit I know nothing about Italian, so I hope the little I've dotted into this isn't horribly wrong. This is still clunky, but I'd rather put it out and move forward than get stuck on form. (editied 8/18).

Previously: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

Read first if you are new! gutted/sorted and wax/wane…if/then is a continuation of those two.

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“Nothing so far is even remotely what Mrs. Frederic’s looking for.”

Myka’s annoyed, both at the man sitting in front of her and her clusterfuck of a morning, which began the minute she stepped foot in Italy.

“Scusa?” the man says as his overly smiley face droops beyond that of a practiced salesman.

“This is what I’m here to see.” Myka sets down her expresso then taps her tablet awake and slides the device across the table.

Myka stretches her neck as the man flicks through inventory then rubs the bridge of her nose in hopes of minimizing the headache she’s had since landing. Clearly, her lack of sleep is catching up with her, yet she doesn’t regret that promises of “later” were fulfilled, rather pleasantly, once her application was complete. Hence she downs the rest of her coffee and considers ordering another; if she has to wait while this guy compares their notes, she might as well be over-caffeinated.

She curses herself for believing him when he'd insisted everything was in order as she sees him now for what he is: a kid. His baby face hides under his short, sharp beard and his spotted bow tie and pocket square try a little too hard to be professional. He’s probably an intern recently promoted to sales, the only one free to meet her at such short notice.

She feels genuinely bad for Floriana, the woman she was meant to meet, as this morning her son was hit by a motorcycle on his way to school. He’s ok, they’ve learned recently, no broken bones or anything, but the painful reality of a child being hurt must be overwhelming. If that had been Christina—her heart races at the thought—Helena would be inconsolable; she’d hop on a plane and sneak into the country just to be by her side.

As she sips her empty expresso, she considers the fact she’s never worried over a child like that and imagines Helena’s day to day worry must be tenfold. She kind of checked out when she got to London, allowing work and Helena to envelop her; she assumed Christina’d be fine since responsible adults were there to care for her. She should really check in unprompted and send some photos, tonight from the hotel...

“Signora Bering,” the man says, “this is not what Signora Stukowski has given me.” He points to her tablet and hands over his.

As Myka flips through inventory, her nostrils flare: wrong period, wrong category, wrong everything. “When did you get this?”

“Questa mattina. You were in the air.” He points his eyes upward.

Myka breathes in a deep, cleansing breath and closes her eyes, telling herself to stay calm. Of course, Sally sent the wrong files, because if Sally could, she would. It’s happened before, and it's happening again. In fact, she’s beginning to think she does it on purpose just to trip her up. But this time around it doesn't make any sense. Sally needs this client to stay on Mrs. Frederic’s good side; Myka has the advantage of the private sale.

But it is possible Mrs. Frederic changed the roster last minute, while she was in the air. And while she’s checked her messages a million times, Sally's not the most communicative; she could have easily sent the files assuming Myka was already in the loop.

“Let me call Sally,” Myka says, whipping out her phone and scrolling through to her number. When the line goes straight to voicemail, she tries the front desk and learns the entire staff's in an impromptu meeting with Mrs. Frederic. No one's sure when it will end.

“Fortuna?” the man asks as Myka sets her phone on the table.

“No,” Myka says, shaking her head. She looks down at his tablet and flicks through a few pages. “Could we continue with these and see my list later?”

As he flips through Myka's images, the man's cheeks puff out comically as he slowly blows out a breath.

“I'll try Sally again later.”

“Si,” he says, nodding his head slowly as he stares at the device. “We can do."

“Grazie,” Myka says, with genuine apology: it’s not his fault they’ll be working overtime. “Let me buy you another coffee. And some lunch,” she adds, eyes wandering behind him, towards the counter.

The man looks over his shoulder and smiles at the menu on the wall. “Si, si, manga,” he says, “Let us ‘regroup,' Signora Bering.”

“Myka,” she says. “Call me, Myka."

------------------

As she stretches to her full-length on the bed, her muscles groan in relief, their release from gravity long overdue. She and Maritzo managed to view everything on both lists but didn’t finish until well after dinner. In the end, she's glad he was her guide and knows she's lucky he was young was eager to please.

Sally, when reached, confirmed Myka’s list was correct, but there was little apology in her apology over the confusion. If she had the energy, she’d have been angry, but she knew it wasn't worth her time. If this private sale works out, she most likely won’t be working with Sally any longer. In fact, Mrs. Frederic emailed her today, asking, tentatively, if she’d represent the gallery in the pre-sale showing, details to be discussed upon her arrival back in London.

The thought occurs to her she needs to go over her newest “anonymous source” email but admits to herself she’s wiped; it will have to wait until morning. She peels herself off the bed and showers, then texts Helena good night and is out like a light before Helena has a chance to respond.

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Though they’ve met once before and emailed frequently, Myka's nerves surge as she enters Theodora’s gallery, as she’s learned Theodora’s not your average widowed retiree. Her anonymous source clued her into some history: back in the day, Theodora and her husband rubbed elbows with both Mrs. Frederic and James Macpherson, chasing down impossible finds like the one she’s been researching.

Theodora's space is intimate and classically European, boasting elaborate white moldings and intricate parquet floors. The front room is filled with contemporary sculpture she recognizes from Vanessa’s roster, while the back holds unique curated treasures. As she passes through to the office, she walks up to a lectern where an illuminated manuscript sits. It’s in pristine condition, which is unusual for its age, and she wonders where a self-proclaimed “humble gallerist” might stumble upon such a rare find.

She’s put at ease by Theodora’s warm welcome, and when their business is tied up sooner the expected, Theodora insists she stay for lunch. Myka’s flight isn’t until three, so gladly accepts and truthfully, she’d like to get to know Theodora better.

After a short walk down a picturesque cobblestone street, she's soon sipping wine in a charming outdoor cafe, listening intently as Theodora waxes poetic about the old days when she was partnered with Mrs. Frederic.

“What was she like back then?” Myka asks.

“The same as she is now,” Theodora answers and motions to the waiter for more wine. “Always pushing the envelope."

“I’ve only met her once. In her office. It was pretty formal.”

“I’ll tell you this: her intentions are always above board, but not everything goes to plan.” Theodora swirls the wine in her glass, studying it as it spins, then tilts her head back, downing the last swig.

“She likes you,” she says, pointing her newly empty glass at Myka.

“She does?”

“She wouldn’t have sent you here otherwise. And I’m sure she already has you working on something special.”

The waiter returns with a fresh bottle of wine and fills both glasses. Myka watches the liquid pour with reservations, already feeling tipsy.

“I think I even know what she’s got you on if the rumors are true. Henry and I chased it years ago, but never found hard proof it existed."

Myka opens her mouth to answer but hesitates; as a confidante of Mrs. Frederic, she should be able to tell Theodora what she’s researching, but it could be a test, to see what it would take to loosen her tongue.

“Oh, it’s hush-hush, I know, no need to fret. It’s just…”

Theodora stares at Myka as if sizing her up. Myka wonders if she wants to hear what she has to say.

“I seem to recall you have a daughter.”

“I, uh...." Not where Myka thought this conversation was going, but it's interesting she remembers her mentioning Christina. "Christina’s Helena’s daughter, not mine. Helena's my…girlfriend." Partner is the correct word here, and she knows it, but if Theodora knows what the private sale is for, she may very well know of Helena’s connection to Macpherson. It might be best to stay a step back until she learns where Theodora is going with this.

“Ah, yes. Now I remember,” Theodora says, siping her wine. “She’s in London because of a visa ’situation.' She and her daughter are why you’re doing all of this. Correct?”

Myka slides her hands off the table and clasps them together on her lap. How much does Theodora know beyond what she’s told her? Maybe she needs to be careful with what she says.

“Um...yeah.”

“Remember that, as you make decisions moving forward.”

“Remember what?”

“Your motivations.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

That very moment, their food arrives. Theodora thanks the waiter then turns her attentions back to Myka.

“Do you love her?” she says, pointing her fork at Myka before tucking into her meal.

“More than anything.”

“And her daughter?”

“Of course.”

“Then remember, the most important thing in life to nurture is family. Family's what’s left when everything else falls flat.”

“Why would everything fall flat?” If Theodora knows something about this sale or Helena that she doesn’t, she wants to know.

Theodora sets down her fork and straightens her posture, then dabs the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “Henry and I did what you’re doing for a lot of years. When we had our kids, it complicated things. We both wanted them, but neither of us was ready to settle down. So we compromised by taking turns, one of us staying with the kids while the other was in the field.”

Does she think Helena’s still working? She must know that’s impossible after the trial. “Do you regret not settling down?”

“I regret not spending more time with the kids and Henry together. Especially when they were little.”

Myka looks on, still confused.

“How old is Helena's Christina?"

“Eight. Eight and a half if you ask her in person.” Myka smiles at the memory of the day Christina told her about her birthday. They were filling out the calendar with Helena’s schedule, but the calendar only went through December, so she wrote out the months following on the last page.

“I know you’re just starting out, and you're excited about your projects, but let me give you a piece of advice. When you’re with Helena and Christina, try to live in the moment, take stock of what you have. It seems silly at your age; you always think they’ll be time later, then suddenly, there’s no time at all.”

Theodora’s gaze drifts off into the distance, and her eyes glass over. Myka reaches across the table and places her hand on top of Theodora’s.

“A-Are you ok?"

“I'm fine," Theodora says, with a small sniff. “When the melancholy kicks in, I tend to babble; another reason why I keep to myself these days.”

“You miss him.”

“Most days.”

Henry must linger in Theodora's memories like Helena's family does in hers.

“Thank you, for the advice. I appreciate it.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll all be fine. I forget times have changed, with technology and all.”

Theodora slides her hand from underneath Myka’s and places it on top, then squeezes it slightly. Myka smiles at the gesture.

“I'll tell you, Irene only pushes those she deems worthy, but she’ll push until they break. Make sure you push back before that happens."

“I will,” Myka says, nodding as she slides her hand back across the table. She fingers the stem of her glass and takes a generous sip, wishing she felt more flattered than worried by Theodora’s words.

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Her concentration’s a bust on the plane back to London; emails left unanswered as Theodora’s words swirl through her head.

Her warnings were overkill, weren’t they? As she said, she's just starting out, trying to fix what’s broken. If she looks at things logically, Helena rescued her in her time of need, and she’s returning the favor, though the stakes are higher now since they’re together. But four or five months of rocky coupledom does not add up to a family, per se, not in the sense Theodora was describing.

In fact, the word “family” leaves a sour taste in her mouth; she'd turned her nose up at the notion with Sam; having more important things to accomplish before settling down. She's aware the word is a trigger as babies and marriage were always Tracy’s domain; she’d roll her eyes when Tracy incessantly talked about both when they were teenagers. But as the oldest, she’d been expected to tie the knot first, expected to produce; luckily that bullet was dodged by Tracy taking the lead, lessening the pressure on her.

But “family” is the best word to describe Helena, Christina, and Claudia, and when applied to them it warms her heart. She’s proud to have joined them along their journey. She smiles at the memory of Christina’s drawing, scribbled in crayon, still hanging on the fridge, depicting her holding hands with Helena. Even at that early stage, she was welcomed with open arms into their fold.

And while she trails behind Claudia in the responsibility department, that dynamic will change when she, Helena and Christina live together. Once their situation stabilizes, everyone’s roles will shift towards the traditional. Is she really ready for that? She's not sure.

She’s been so focused on getting to London she hasn’t thought much about what happens after. Theodora must have seen glimmers of her own lack of vision in Myka, of starting a family but never fully embracing change. She should heed her advice and learn work with it, not fight against it. Easier said than done, but she vows to take Theodora’s words to heart.

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After a quick stop to freshen up, Myka speeds off to her work mixer, coincidentally located at the same restaurant Helena had scrambled to get reservations earlier. This seemed odd to her, out of all the restaurants in London, but Helena assured her it was a popular choice with the “in" crowd.

The table is packed when she arrives, with a mass cheer rising as she approaches; it’s clear everyone’s been letting loose. When all eyes move behind her then forward to meet her own, she’s hit with a wave of awkwardness. Helena's expected to have tagged along tonight, but she's clearly not present.

She apologizes for Helena’s absence, explaining she didn’t know until she stepped off the plane Helena had to work last minute. Everyone’s been eager to meet her "black sheep” girlfriend since the day Helena met Mrs. Frederic and emerged unscathed. In fact, Helena’s reputation has even tinged Myka with an air of mystique around the office, which she thinks is quite amusing.

A coworker motions for her to sit next to them, saying they’ve saved her a seat and she does as instructed. Her heart sinks at the sight of Helena’s empty spot next to her; disappointed Helena chose to work over her. She knows sacrifices must be made to keep the weekend free for Christina and Claudia, but she was really looking forward to introducing Helena to the group, both to put an end to the rumors and to show Helena off.

Wine flows freely during every course of the meal, and as the table fills with stories and laughter, she leans back and takes stock, recognizing a lightness in her chest she hasn’t felt for ages. She’s having a really good time with these people, an even mix of folks older and younger than her, and is pleased the discussion stays on topics unrelated to kids and school. The evening feels like coworker gatherings in Chicago and Seattle, and it’s reaffirming to be reminded of who she was all those years ago on her own.

As the woman sitting next to her checks her phone, Myka stiffens as she asks the time. Helena begged her to meet for a nightcap at the bar to make up for missing dinner and Myka reluctantly agreed, but at this rate, it will close before she gets there.

“Sorry, I have to go,” she says, rising so abruptly her chair nearly topples backward. “I’ll see everyone tomorrow."

-TBC-

#BERING AND WELLS #w13 #fanfiction #if/then #AU Week #Sometimes when you have too much on your plate #you have to 'relax' by doing other things #things that are still work #but work you are doing for yourself #so you stay up too late #to knock out a chapter of fanfiction #(for the 2 people still reading #hopefully the next chapter will be up sooner rather than later #it actually already written in full #but needs shaping)

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gwydpolls · 7 months

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Time Travel Question 26: Ancient History XIII and Earlier

These Questions are the result of suggestions from the previous iteration.

This category may include suggestions made too late to fall into the correct grouping.

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#Time Travel #Ancient History #Proto-Uralic People #Linguistics #Bering Straights Land Bridge #Dené–Yeniseian #Shingi Waō #Himiko #Japanese History #Yayoi Period #Cagots #Pre-Celtic Britain #Damascus Steel

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infantisimo · 5 years

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Virginia Heffernan connects the ecological transformation of the pre-human Americas by beavers to Marshall McLuhan – and then to climate change:

#go beavers go?!

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lucifers-ferris-wheel-blog · 7 years

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All Except The Sea (Ness-An 2.5)

The Rivalry BEGIIIIINNNNNSSSSS(@marysuewhyyyy @criticalcritques)!

Name (if multiple, most commonly used during said time): Birth to twelve, while living in hometown: Ness-An. Twelve to eighteen, while living in the Mission School: Mahala Of Wolves. Eighteen to twenty-seven, while on the Northbound Journey (it will all be explained, in a Backstory ™, which is basically just going to be a plot summary): Mahah-Leloo.

The definition of the first name she had is Wolf Of; because her mother was upset at people having given their children lengthy and over-specific names they didn’t live up to, or even did, so her mother decided to name Ness-An something open-ended. The issue is that in Ketempi culture many children, as aforementioned, have very long names, so most people who have not met her before assume it’s been cut into a nickname at an odd point. Many people ask for her “full name”, and she actually receives more inconvenience, or at least face-to-face rude comments, on her name than her eyes. Her second name was assigned so that she would assimilate better with the settlers and be more “civilized”. She actually didn’t mind it, and in fact, was quite neutral on the idea of newcomers for a time, but then things went downhill. Her third name is composed of Northwest trade jargon (which was/is an actual thing and is modernly called Chinuk Wawa), with Mahah meaning “to depart or leave” and Leloo meaning “wolf”, at least among several coastal groups, because yay hurrah dialects. So she, in a way, gets an “Of” after all. Wolf Of Leaving.

Time period of first book: 1845-1847

Duration of Ness-An’s life: 1835-1862 (27 years, t'was not a good time to reach old age)

Physical description: Ness-An has hair about to her waist, and it’s relatively straight dark brown, nearly black. Not dark enough to be considered an extremely valuable trait, like blueblack, nor light enough to be uncommon and special, like medium brown is. It’s rather unremarkable hair, and she has trouble remembering to brush it.. Ness-An is relatively short compared to a modern western woman, but is around average for a Ketempiken (Around 5″2). Her weight fluctuates heavily based on food availability, and it’s a bit lower before she hits puberty evidently, but if adequately fed she is rather squishy. She has a traditionally pretty oval face, and occasionally marks three charcoal lines beneath her chin, because it’s considered a luck symbol.

Her eyes are different colors, but one is greysih-brown and the other more completely greyish, and from distant range its hard to tell. However, when Ness-An was born, her greyer eye was paler and made the difference more pronounced (this has occurred with actual heterochromic people, where sometimes the lighter eye darkens slightly within anywhere from months to years of birth), and in a town where the number of inhabitants were around 700, everyone hears about this. It’s theorized about in a negative light as to why this occurs, but any asking, if asking is done at all, goes to her mother. By the time she’s old enough to have defined memories at around four, the few people who harped upon it have fallen silent, but no-one ever to go out of the way to interact with her.

Languages spoken: Ketempi, which is a language isolate, meaning it has no traceable roots or family (Isolates are fairly common, actually, especially among native groups, but i suppose its because there are often languages there that die before proper analyzation). I decided to make it a language isolate because i made it up and I’m excessively lazy. I've forged an entire fictional indigenous culture simply because I can control the history of it as long as I manage to explain why it isn't remembered to this day. If anyone happens across this who finds this offensive, most especially if said person has native heritage, please tell me. Slight topic drift back to original question: Ness also learns to speak English at the Mission School, because that’s what they’re teaching there, and Chinuk Wawa, because that way she can speak to the other children boarded there who aren’t of Ketempi heritage.

Here are the answers to some previous critiques that you may want to skip:

Why Ness identifies as an elf and not a Native American: She does fully claim to be Native American, but like many groups did, believes her personal tribe she descended from was a bit better than others, as this is often ingrained into origin stories for how people came to be. And yes, I understand I need a lot of research; I’m at 17 months of researching and counting. The thing is that ear pointing was practiced as a coming of age ritual, much like facial tattoos or lip piercing were for other groups, and also to better adhere to societal beauty standards. It helped make the Kentempi even more different, seeing as no other people were ever recorded to have practiced such. Immigrants from the East decided that they resembled elves, but they never actually themselves identified as that.

But yes, they were originally spoken of as having dark magic or negative powers, seeing as they had a native religion with a god that wasn’t Christian so of course they were seen as heathens and witches and satanistic people. Now most of us recall elves as more beneficial in their supernatural abilities. Also, when (spoiler warning to my nonexistent fans) they flee north once driven of their land, just as some tribes fled to Canada once they had their homelands removed from them, they are constantly referencing the Crystal Path (which sounds super hipstery but) from their origin story, a highly time-corrupted version of crossing over the sheet glaciers on the Bering Land Bridge from Asia to North America; and the North Star, which actually wasn’t in it’s fixed location when the Land Bridge was being crossed; which has a whole legend dedicated to why it stays still now, but anyway: they fled further north than any other group was recorded to have fled to, in relation to their starting point.

They also engaged in the whole “giving away things connotes wealth”, just as several other groups in the Northwest, especially coastal, did. The Chinook word for “to give”, patshatl, was turned into Potlatch, which is the modern name for these parties still hosted to this day where the host hands out free food and bountiful gifts to the guests; often over half of their possessions, at least in old days.These giving sprees varied by culture, with some being held primarily in summer because it facilitates travel and others mainly held them on winter, to add cheer to dreary times. Yet others had no seasonal tendency for when potlatches were most frequently hosted. They could take up to a decade to hoard for if they were especially opulent, but yes, it was a way of showing high social status that I wish most Americans still practiced today. The Ketempi people called the practice Hlák, and held it often once immigrants arrived, thinking that if they rewarded the newcomers with fine hospitality they would feel satisfied enough to leave. This was the opposite of what occurred, and the Europeans simply took the gifts and destroyed the ones bearing native symbols, but robbing the Ketempiken of furs and foods.

In the end, they gathered a reputation for being pointy eared, northern-living people who had some rumors of odd abilities and gave things away seemingly without incentive. While hiding out in the inland north, they ate primarily caribou, and the same while heading through parts of British Columbia. So there you have it. It was warped over time to the Santa-aiding, pale skinned toy-makers, who were first described so in 1856 by Louisa May Alcott, three years after the beginning of the northward movement. Seeing as both that she didn’t live in the area and probably would rather they weren’t of color, she most likely simply took them for an inspiration source. That’s the reason for all that.

Another critique was that you wish to hear more about the Mission School: Love, I’m writing nine books for a reason. I’m already too lengthy on my review, and it covers literally half of one book. The Mission School shows up in two and three, which i could send in as briefer summaries if desired by any of The Rivalry. Apologies, but to save my soul i couldn’t write a short story.

Context (Sort of a backstory, but mostly historical, can skip if a reader or delete if a part of The Rivalry): Europeans first made contact with the native peoples occupying the Willamette Valley in 1805, when the Lewis and Clark expedition came through. However, they came through to the slight north, thus not encountering the Ketempiken. More people, in small groups, started crossing the treacherous expanse of plains in 1812, but still far too few to constitute a trail. A few Ketempiken would engage in secondhand trade with the Europeans, meaning, say, that an Alsea would trade for glass beads from an immigrant, and then a Ketempi would trade with the Alsea, or such. Immigration numbers went up considerably around 1824, but were still relatively low. A few distantly nearby settlements were cemented. Still no-one came to Kiger Island, or the nearby land area, however, so being a tribe where townships kept to themselves, the Europeans proved no issue to them or the nearby bands of Kalapuya, although in pioneer towns being set up at the time to the northeast and southeast did have some mild clashing with the nearest original group.

In 1829, a case of smallpox was reported, which had come in from the immigrants and which the natives had no immunity (which often comes from exposure to livestock) from. By 1830, it was spreading uncontrollably all throughout the valley, including the neighboring Cascade Mountains and coastal areas. If in a more modern setting and with proper quarantine procedures, medication and cleanliness, one out of four people infected would die. The number rose far higher in that time and place, and it is estimated that a fair 70% of people in the area died of it, if you average them. It was most devastating, and didn’t subside until 1833. The Kalapuya, who are a real group and most likely numbered around 7,000 at the time, but under 1,000 post-illness. The Ketempi, who are the central focus, dropped from 8,000 to just above 5,000

Separate note on land use: the Kalapuya were more likely to gain the land around the rivers for frequent use, and the coastal hills and foothills, while the Ketempiken only took small sections of river and took more to the eastern half of the valley with a large amount of oak savanna, creeping up slightly close to the Cascades in seasonal gathering. Pretty much they share quite an amount on occasion, because the entire valley is places in sparse towns, and the whole area of valley only contained 15,000-16,000 people. The towns were, for both cultures, for wintertime, and then in warmer times both left to gather for gaining food, but they tried not to interact. During the time the story occurs, the total number of people in the valley has dropped from 15,000 to 7,000 at best. The Kalapuya were hit much harder by the smallpox epidemics.

The survival numbers of the Ketempi were higher seeing as they were so isolative from external contact in the first place, and rarely conjoined outside of towns. This is another factor which lead outside cultures to want to connect with them less: the fact they didn’t seem much to want to. For many groups indigenous to North America, traveling between towns to make or visit friends or business partners (as in people to trade, carve, hunt, or gather with, ect.) is considered a very good and wanted occurrence. The Ketempiken seemed to have seen it as rejection of the preexisting social connections in one’s birth town. Although people would often leave a town to marry, this was a permanent departure.

Trading was, to them, an awe-inducing act that commanded both great fear and admiration; a powerful position one was called upon to take (much like shamanism in many cultures) and was usually given as a main thing to do in life. One was not supposed to WANT to be a trader or a shaman, but one was not supposed to strongly dislike or fear these positions.

An agricultural note originally included at the asterisk* which probably belongs up here where it’s easier to skip: Seeing as it bears relevance, the people of that area and many chunks of California and the plains had an odd blurring of agriculture and non-agriculture, seeing as most groups had no proper crops, but would burn the large fields annually around autumn in a semi-controlled manner, which rid weeds, provided nutrients, and left only older trees to grow, help keeping the prairies and savannas healthy and allowing new seeds to take root. Considering most of their diets (generalization, but forgive me) would place high dependence on either bulbs/roots, which were beneath the earth and would sprout up again after the fire and reseed, or grasses (the seeds were eaten, sort of as rice), whose seeds blow around and root on every bare patch of ground they can find, such as a freshly burned area, this helped them take partial control of their environment.

Every year, the Ketempiken (and other groups, but I’m writing about the Ketempi) would burn an several areas, but they would let chunks of land go anywhere from two to ten years between burnings, depending on how things were growing. Besides the partial clearing of land, however, most groups did not do anything else to help assure food would be plentiful through agricultural means. There were groups who gathered grass seed and scattered it specifically, but most just waited to see what nature did. All the young grass shoots would lure in deer, elk, rabbits, and the like, helping up the odds of game concentrating near an inhabited area. Many western people have deemed this a half-assed approach to food collection, but personally I think it’s really clever. You can almost double your total yield in plants and noticeably heighten your odds at meat simply by sparking some dry leaves and not regulating the spread. How great is that? It also facilitates travel, because when many saplings get torched there are wide patches between trees, and you don’t need some set and worn path to go around gathering. Final note, flame helped harvest tarweed, a sunflower-like plant whose seeds provided oil, much as people who want to go on some random trendy cooking spree use sunflower oil.

Probably an actual backstory™ that talks about the character: This leave 1834 as the year where, while recuperating from losing nearly half their population, many people took pregnant, and thus Ness-An was brought into the world in 1835. Most of her friends she makes are of equal age or younger to her and the oldest children in their families. It takes her ages to question this, but there is a large gap without people between children who are (at the books start) of ten years and adults who are of around twenty, seeing as most children were more prone to infection. Many adults have little concavements on their face and hands and feet. In fact so many have these characteristics of recovery from smallpox that Ness assumes the pockmarring of your extremities is something that happens “when you grow up”, just like getting more permanent body fat or ceasing growing, which strikes me as rather sad but is probably sounding Edgy©.

She spends the majority of her childhood friendless, not because she is bullied or teased, but mainly because she is actually rather rude, and will often snap at or argue with other children and then chalk up their negative response to the fact they don’t like her eyes. Most of Ness-An’s younger life is spent tagging along with her family, especially her mother, but trying simultaneously to evade the day-to-day chores needed to sustain them. Eventually she is broken of this habit, around the age of seven, and takes to the expected tasks of digging camas and threshing grass for seed, or gathering acorns and washing them to remove tannin. At the series’ beginning Ness has two parents, both living, and three siblings, all younger (I hopefully explained why well enough): a brother who is two years younger, and a pair of sisters who are respectively five and six years younger. Funnily enough, both her sisters have longer and more flowery names. You get the impression that Ness-An’s mother gave up, and decided that something really extravagant would suffice over something short in an odd way. Her brother is named reasonably and his name is brief, but I suppose because of certain occurrences that are to happen combined with the fact the names are of my invention and thus may be harder to remember or tell apart than, say Steve from Bob, I am listing none of her original family’s titles.

I’m currently only referring to book one; I’m aiming for a total of nine, it looks like currently. Yes, in fact, I DO hate writing short stories, what on earth prompted THAT inquiry? The actual story begins during the Moon of Acorns and Fire, or approximately September* while the protagonist is ten and a half, and is still somewhat a conceited slacker. The town is celebrating with the annual Thricemoon, which is sort of a small festival held to celebrate the safe return of the traders who ventured away for the summer and the re-congregation of the town. Many left the island to make temporary, single-family camps out in good gathering areas, but have come back to reside with slightly more permanence in their winter homes: earthen domes with a smokehole and a door, much akin to those used by several tribes in southern California, like the Digueño, but more ovular in shape with a door on one of the longer sides.

Another reason for Thricemoon is the fact that it signals the end of the vision-seeking process for those who came of age that year. It is unknown even to the elders if Thricemoon is held when it is primarily because it marks an end to the time of vision quests, or whether vision quests are held when they are primarily because they mark the beginning of Thricemoon. Anyhoot, it’s during the harvest moon when there are three full moons in a row. Everybody’s happy, even though it so happens that no children came of age this year (hahahaha I was going to put “smallpox” in here but I accidentally wrote “smolpox” oh my god it’s like smallpox but it’s KaWAiiiiii), so that means there is plenty of food and joy and gift-givings, plus plenty of opportunities to set up your character to have their soul crushed.

So it’s Thricemoon and everything is holding up great. There is celebrating and joy, and then suddenly Ness realizes they seem awfully short on food (her family in specific) and appear to be partying awfully hard. She brings this up with her mother, and her mother admits that they are indeed not likely to make the winter, but that the younger children haven’t picked up on it yet. Then there’s this whole realizing-that-life-isn’t-perfect-even-though-it-seemed-so-as-a-child moment, and she has this whole screeching fit about how they’re going to starve. Her mother suggests to Ness that she should overwinter with another family, but seeing as Ness-An hasn’t really been that prolific in the friends department she must specifically seek out a family and basically fake investment in them to stay fed.

This causes Ness to basically switch into the mode of a child who thinks they’ve seen some serious shit and been through such soul-wrenching insufferable pain (such as dropping a blackberry in mud and still eating it), which is a trope I love and don’t see enough of. Dear authors, give me children who think getting green wrapping paper instead of pink warrants singing "wake me up inside”. (I can’t wake) WAKE ME UP… Alright, you get it, I’ll carry on but now that’s stuck in my head. She goes to the other family, and it turns out they’re lovable and she doesn’t need to fake her attachment to them.

Regardless, Ness actually has a great time, even though her harshness and occasional lack of filtering what she says gets her pretty close to rejected from them on several occasions. It turns out that her hardworkingness (hah she’s Ness and she’s hardworking) and creativity manage to provide useful help to the new family, however. Their oldest child, Ourealv'oi [Apostrophe is for glottal stop, not edge factor, but I’m thinking of just removing it so that it’s Ourealvoi. How about that?] Strikes it off decently with Ness-An, especially if you consider that they were an almost randomly chosen family. However, although Ourealv is less confrontational than Ness-An, she’s far more impatient in general, and once an argument is struck up she’ll be extremely harsh. Once one convinces Ourealv'oi to sit and work, though, she’s actually rather good at the more mundane aspects of choredom, such as flourgrinding and clothing repair. Oure seems to be more clear-headed than Ness and already has a vague idea for the future she wants, which is a lot of forethought for a nine year old. She’s become entranced by the idea of falconry, but is too young to actually be trusted with the responsibility, and of course she’ll need other means of sustenance. There is also a younger brother, named Teven, who is either six or seven, I’m still doing child development research. He gets angry about any violation of Normal, and collects rocks obsessively. He can apply sarcasm, though, so I’m still thinking non-autistic, even though I personally am an autistic who can use sarcasm. Then there’s Edolsi, who’s a four year old who hasn’t yet gotten over his stage of ramming stuff into his mouth and Kalo, a very young infant.

Ness is still rather impressed by her new family, seeing as they actually keep house and impose social etiquette onto their children and the like, things that weren’t there in her prior family. This naturally means she gets called out much more often on her errors, but they are accepting enough and have enough food and goods she keeps trying. She finds out along the way that the family were traders (o the horror) and not only people who changed towns in the summer, but people who lived on the road in a semicircular tent, and have only settled into Heron Speaks four years prior. This is a big deal, of course, but it’s especially big because this doesn’t bother Ness-An. She wants to hear about how things were in places besides her town, and actually begins pressuring them to restart their vagrant lifestyle. She asks about the sea, which she hasn’t heard of before, and imagines it as an enormous brown river with waves flowing parallel with the shore, and thinks that whales are enormous, bio-luminescent lampreys that sing by blowing air out of their mouths like a flute. She pictures baleen as algae that grows symbiotically, and such on. Ness has heard about the Crystal Path and always imagines it as incredibly distant: a full three days walk north. So yes, it’s been interesting writing for a character who has lived such a small life.

When Ness-An accidentally reveals how her home family is faring, Ourealv'oi’s family (more specifically, Ourealv’s parents, Adiir and Enolset) choose to adopt her. Yes, with most Native groups it was really casual, like borrowing a cup of flour. "I can’t adequately take care of this kid, do you want ‘em?” “Sure.” “K here you go”. Ness starts worrying that her new family is too decent, however, and she’ll keep being too rude and lazy to fit in properly. The problem is she whines so much about her fear of being an annoying nuisance that she this becomes an honest annoying nuisance. She basically just hangs around her new home chatting, griping, and having character development ™ for a week or five, and then they all as a family head out to the winter duck hunting camp. Ness-An’s previous family didn’t have any specific food they were annually sent specifically to retrieve, so this is an interesting experience. However, when after a few days she realizes that she is nowhere near to even Teven in hunting skill, seeing as she’s never been before, she gets exceptionally convinced it would be better if she went back to her birth family, which she assumes has starved nearly to death. Her new parents, when she at last brings this up, tell her that the community is very tight (😎hella tight bro) (I need to chill on the useless thingies in parentheses) and would not let a family be “a single hole in the basket which through all the water can run out”, and make sure everyone was properly housed, fed, and looked after, at least to the best of everyone’s collective ability. And yes, they had watertight baskets, look up Northwest Native American watertight basket. Neat.

Regarding the plot: Ness-An decides to try and look at things from afar, and realizes that it has some merit, the fact that her original family should be okay. Ness’ new parents also chew her up on being disrespectful by rejecting their hospitality. In the end, Ness-An decides to stay out the rest of the trip actually learning new skills instead of just griping about how she has no skills, and tries to make an actual effort at being kind continuously, now that a roof being over her head is no longer a variable. It’s a lot of fun, at least everything besides plucking the actual waterfowl and also: bird guts. But she makes some stronger bonds and tries to get bearings on the world, as well as learning more about drop-nets, archery, snares, and a bunch of legends that get told to pass the time while removing duck guts. When they at last get back, which is in a while but I’m condensing things, Ness, and Ourealvoi who came with out of curiosity but then decided to stay out of things, go to Ness-An’s former house. Surprise! Everyone is properly fed and cheery, and it turns out her family wasn’t short on food, and in fact, was better stocked than most years, causing the excessive celebration. When Ness first brought up that she suspected a food shortage to her mother, her mother ran with the idea in order to convince Ness to leave the house, because Ness had been unhelpful and bothersome, but greater yet the shamaness had apparently seen something regarding the Odd-Eyed Child, and the village healers were no small deal. Ness was indeed an unhelpful ass, though, in essence. Thus, her mother casually passed her off to another family whom she knew already had a low reputation for having been traders, believing no worse damage could be done to their status by having to rear a ride and “dangerous” child.

Ness is of course startled and becomes very upset. In the end, she returns to her second family. She feels rejected; and justly so because she was literally given up from her family without argument. She spends most of december trying to fit in and improve, but gives up a little as temperatures and food availability drop drastically for january. However, the lack of need to be outside, which is a byproduct of the lack of food to be gathered, means that there is plenty of time to sit on the round floor of the house and play around or carve or weave. In this way she becomes closer to them, and there are all sorts of small friendly and funny scenes I’m putting here. She’s evidently still mad with her birth family, but it’s turning out okayish. She starts taking better care of other people, but also stays believably immature, such as almost putting a rotting trout into Teven’s bedding after he drops a garter snake down Oure’s blouse. When the first turkey vulture (a first sign of spring, seeing as they move south in the summer and have a very distinct presence upon returning, with a six foot wingspan) is sighted in mid-march, the long and rather unnoteworthy winter comes to an end and people suddenly have things to gather again. While out in the fields with Adiir and the children (all of them, seeing as boys help mainly the mother until around age twelve) gathering young camas lily shoots, Ness begins once again bringing up travel, namely to the sea. Oure wants to go back as well, now that Ness-An has gone through the step of mentioning the topic, which isn’t recomended. Ourealvoi hasn’t been there since she was barely six years old, and doesn’t want to forget how it looked. Teven and the rest can’t remember anything besides Heron Speaks, though, but still add in agreement. Adiir and Enolset discuss this in depth, because although the excursion would retrieve valuable items such as salt, sea otter fur, and many other plants and meats, plus turban shells and other things that were valued somewhat like currency; it would immediately dock their slowly improving reputation. In the end, they decide to go to the sea. It takes two overnights walking westward, which to Ness that’s an a m a z i n g duration of time, basically three days walk, which is how far away she previously though esentially the edge of the world was. They spend a lot of time by the sea that i’m not going to go on about, but return after drifting up and down the coastline and trading some to the north. When they return in late August, something is very wrong with Heron Speaks. Downriver, there’s a house. A house made of wood. Everyone says it’s been there since early june, by which Ness and family were already gone. Nobody knows what to do, but everyone thinks Ness might have some answer, even though she’s just eleven, because of her being the Odd-Eyed Girl. There is much discussion, but nobody will let her go see the house. After people get more used to the fact there’s a house four miles away with a lone inhabitant, and that the mysterious immigrant seems to be staying, people start relaxing slightly and preparing once again for Thricemoon (i need to put a lot more description into the summer evidently, and i have in the book, but here I’m short on space and time). The celebration begins, and for the first time Ness is one of the people who has gone trading, and gets plenty of attention. When she awakes on the third morning of Thricemoon, however, the house is empty and the shore outside is crowded with canoes, from other Ketempi towns, even, which has never happened before. a full thousand people must be out there. She wades into the water, asking what on earth is wrong. There is now a second house, and a negotiation must be held. She hears from the people from other towns that far more settlers have been arriving in their areas, as well. But nobody understands that the Europeans are trying to actually build permanent homesteads, they just assume they’ve put up wood houses because they’re staying briefly, a year at most, because if you actually are going to live somewhere, you make an earth house. So everyone decides to go give gifts to the temporary guests, so that they feel welcome before they leave.This goes over much differently that planned.

Anyway, i must sleep, so there’s the first half of the first book. Tah-dah.

A/N: Like I said, delete literally anything you like, and feel free to ask for me to add information on something [feel free to google anything mentioned]. I have sixteen years of story left to tell for Ness, and once you know the universe already i can make things briefer, hopefully fitting two years to a post instead of just one. I’ve atted you, so go to town: delete half of it, point out seventy grammatical errors, harp on plot holes, basically do your worst. I hate myself already and nothing you say can change that. Go ahead and delete the whole thing; it undoubtedly deserves it, seeing as how much i yammer.

Also, @iloveshippingkitty @buying-the-space-farm @jovanafung @tjc2009-2018

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