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reasonsforhope · 4 months ago

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Although dam removals have been happening since 1912, the vast majority have occurred since the mid-2010s, and they have picked up steam since the 2021 Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, which provided funding for such projects. To date, 806 Northeastern dams have come down, with hundreds more in the pipeline. Across the country, 2023 was a watershed year, with a total of 80 dam removals. Says Andrew Fisk, Northeast regional director of the nonprofit American Rivers, “The increasing intensity and frequency of storm events, and the dramatically reduced sizes of our migratory fish populations, are accelerating our efforts.”

Dam removals in the Northeast don’t generate the same media attention as massive takedowns on West Coast rivers, like the Klamath or the Elwha. That’s because most of these structures are comparatively miniscule, built in the 19th century to form ponds and to power grist, textile, paper, saw, and other types of mills as the region developed into an industrial powerhouse.

But as mills became defunct, their dams remained. They may be small to humans, but to the fish that can’t get past them “they’re just as big as a Klamath River dam,” says Maddie Feaster, habitat restoration project manager for the environmental organization Riverkeeper, based in Ossining, New York. From Maryland and Pennsylvania up to Maine, there are 31,213 inventoried dams, more than 4,000 of which sit within the 13,400-square-mile Hudson River watershed alone. For generations they’ve degraded habitat and altered downstream hydrology and sediment flows, creating warm, stagnant, low-oxygen pools that trigger algal blooms and favor invasive species. The dams inhibit fish passage, too, which is why the biologists at the mouth of the Saw Kill transported their glass eels past the first of three Saw Kill dams after counting them...

Jeremy Dietrich, an aquatic ecologist at the New York State Water Resources Institute, monitors dam sites both pre- and post-removal. Environments upstream of an intact dam, he explains, “are dominated by midges, aquatic worms, small crustaceans, organisms you typically might find in a pond.” In 2017 and 2018 assessments of recent Hudson River dam removals, some of which also included riverbank restorations to further enhance habitat for native species, he found improved water quality and more populous communities of beetles, mayflies, and caddisflies, which are “more sensitive to environmental perturbation, and thus used as bioindicators,” he says. “You have this big polarity of ecological conditions, because the barrier has severed the natural connectivity of the system. [After removal], we generally see streams recover to a point where we didn’t even know there was a dam there.”

Pictured: Quassaick Creek flows freely after the removal of the Strooks Felt Dam, Newburgh, New York.

American Rivers estimates that 85 percent of U.S. dams are unnecessary at best and pose risks to public safety at worst, should they collapse and flood downstream communities. The nonprofit has been involved with roughly 1,000 removals across the country, 38 of them since 2018. This effort was boosted by $800 million from the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law. But states will likely need to contribute more of their own funding should the Trump administration claw back unspent money, and organizations involved in dam removal are now scrambling to assess the potential impact to their work.

Enthusiasm for such projects is on the upswing among some dam owners — whether states, municipalities, or private landholders. Pennsylvania alone has taken out more than 390 dams since 1912 — 107 of them between 2015 and 2023 — none higher than 16 feet high. “Individual property owners [say] I own a dam, and my insurance company is telling me I have a liability,” says Fisk. Dams in disrepair may release toxic sediments that potentially threaten both human health and wildlife, and low-head dams, over which water flows continuously, churn up recirculating currents that trap and drown 50 people a year in the U.S.

Numerous studies show that dam removals improve aquatic fish passage, water quality, watershed resilience, and habitat for organisms up the food chain, from insects to otters and eagles. But removals aren’t straightforward. Federal grants, from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration or the Fish and Wildlife Service, favor projects that benefit federally listed species and many river miles. But even the smallest, simplest projects range in cost from $100,000 to $3 million. To qualify for a grant, be it federal or state, an application “has to score well,” says Scott Cuppett, who leads the watershed team at the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation’s Hudson River Estuary Program, which collaborates with nonprofits like Riverkeeper to connect dam owners to technical assistance and money...

All this can be overwhelming for dam owners, which is why stakeholders hope additional research will help loosen up some of the requirements. In 2020, Yellen released a study in which he simulated the removal of the 1,702 dams in the lower Hudson watershed, attempting to determine how much sediment might be released if they came down. He found that “the vast majority of dams don’t really trap much sediment,” he says. That’s good news, since it means sediment released into the Hudson will neither permanently worsen water quality nor build up in places that would smother or otherwise harm underwater vegetation. And it shows that “you would not need to invest a huge amount of time or effort into a [costly] sediment management plan,” Yellen says. It’s “a day’s worth of excavator work to remove some concrete and rock, instead of months of trucking away sand and fill.” ...

On a sunny winter afternoon, Feaster, of Riverkeeper, stands in thick mud beside Quassaick Creek in Newburgh, New York. The Strooks Felt Dam, the first of seven municipally owned dams on the lower reaches of this 18-mile tributary, was demolished with state money in 2020. The second dam, called Holden, is slated to come down in late 2025. Feaster is showing a visitor the third, the Walsh Road Dam, whose removal has yet to be funded. “This was built into a floodplain,” she says, “and when it rains the dam overflows to flood a housing complex just around a bend in the creek.” ...

On the Quassaick, improvements are evident since the Strooks dam came out. American eel and juvenile blue crabs have already moved in. In fact, fish returns can sometimes be observed within minutes of opening a passageway. Says Schmidt, “We’ve had dammed rivers where you’ve been removing the project and when the last piece comes out a fish immediately storms past it.”

There is palpable impatience among environmentalists and dam owners to get even more removals going in the Northeast. To that end, collaborators are working to streamline the process. The Fish and Wildlife Service, for example, has formed an interagency fish passage task force with other federal agencies, including NOAA and FEMA, that have their own interests in dam removals. American Rivers is working with regional partners to develop priority lists of dams whose removals would provide the greatest environmental and safety benefits and open up the most river miles to the most important species. “We’re not going to remove all dams,” [Note: mostly for reasons dealing with invasive species management, etc.] says Schmidt. “But we can be really thoughtful and impactful with the ones that we do choose to remove.”

-via Yale Environment 360, February 4, 2025

#rivers #riparian #united states #north america #northeast #pennsylvania #massachusetts #new york #dam #dam removal #good news #hope

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ceilidho · 3 months ago

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fear of god

There's someone outside the spacecraft. You don't remember them being part of the crew. Part 12 masterlist

A false moon dictates the coming of night.

You set up a cot in the medical unit again, going to your quarters to grab a spare set of sheets before returning, Gaz shadowing you the way there and back. His presence scratches at the back of your head, reminding you that he’s there at your back. You don’t ask him why he insists on keeping up this charade of monitoring your behaviour—his motives are as unclear to you as ever.

“This isn’t necessary,” you finally manage to get out on the walk back to the medbay, the door within sight.

“I know,” Gaz says simply.

The door slides open and you enter with him still at your back. “Then why are you following me?”

“Those were Graves’ orders, weren’t they?”

“And you what? Follow his orders now?”

It’s difficult to determine who you actually feel betrayed by. Gaz owes you no debt—it wasn’t you that let him into the ship. The focus of your anger should be on Graves and the rest of the crew, but yet—

Your chest twinges when the door slides shut and Gaz leans against it, no different than a guard posted at the door.

He shrugs, unbothered by the reproach in your voice. “He’s the commander.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s right.”

“Maybe not.”

“I had nothing to do with Hadir getting sick.”

“I know that.” Your chest deflates when you can’t detect any insincerity behind his words. “But Graves is in charge of the ship and unless you think you could get the others to agree with you, isn’t it better to toe the line for now?”

It would upset you if it were any less true. The hierarchical arrangement of personnel on board has always been clear, and it’s not lost on you that you’ve always hovered near the bottom, falling further from grace with every passing day. Who apart from Gaz and Hadir have been sympathetic towards you in recent weeks anyway? Nikolai’s friendship is an extension of his disposition, an affection easily given and easily taken away. Farah barely even regards you as trustworthy these days, convinced that you’re teetering on the edge of losing your mind.

She might not be wrong.

Gaz watches you make the bed, settling into your office chair, a mite more comfortable than the stool by the counter.

“Do you want me to set up a cot for you?” you ask begrudgingly.

He shakes his head. “Don’t need one.”

“You can sleep comfortably sitting up like that?”

His smile verges on patronizing. “I don’t need to sleep, love.”

Your skin crawls. You hate when he does that—when he lets you in on your shared secret, the knowledge that he isn’t as human as he appears. Whatever he is still eludes you. Alien or divine. There’s no point in asking though. That knowledge sits beyond your purview.

You ignore him to the best of your abilities and finish setting up your cot, his words still ringing in your ears.

Things take a turn for the worse when Hadir stops responding altogether.

Though his verbal responses have become less and less frequent over the last couple days, the dropoff is significant. As your only patient though, you’ve been monitoring him closely since he was admitted, and you pick up on the change quickly. It’s like an itch under your skin, a sixth sense from working with sick patients for the better part of your adult years.

Gaz picks up on the change in your mood, sitting up straighter. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you respond through stiff lips. “Something changed.”

The base of your spine tingles when the vital signs monitor suddenly beeps, alerting you to a change in Hadir’s condition.

You flip a switch and press a button on the keyboard, speaking directly to the Ship’s AI. “Ship, what’s the patient’s status?”

Patient's temperature is unusually elevated

Recommendation to increase fluids and decrease external temperature

You lift his eyelids and find his pupils irregular, one larger than the other, and they don’t respond properly when you shine a light on them.

“What can I do?” Gaz asks, as serious as you’ve ever seen him.

“We need to cool him down. His fever is spiking. I’ll get the cooling blanket—there are ice packs in the freezer over there—” You point to a refrigerator on the other side of the room. “—get the ice packs and start packing them around his armpits and groin. We need to get his temperature down while I figure out what the fuck is happening.”

Gaz moves quickly, retrieving the ice packs from the freezer and packing them up against Hadir’s pits and in between his legs under the medical gown. Hadir’s lips flutter reflexively at the cold but that’s as much responsiveness as you get out of him.

You press the button to speak to the AI again. “Ship, is his temperature coming down?”

Negative

Patient temperature currently: 104°

Even his breathing has changed, his breaths similarly irregular and increasingly shallower. You put in the orders for another CT scan, moving quicker and typing faster than you ever have before. The breathing tube gets put in next to secure his airway and you don’t like the way his gag reflex doesn’t kick in when the tube is shoved down his throat. It signals something dangerous.

The situation before you doesn’t bode well. Dread clings to the wall in the far corner of the room but you ignore its presence to focus on your work, throwing everything at the walls to see what sticks.

His labs are all over the place. High fever, low platelets, high D-dimer, high FDPs. An hour passes in a blink with you running test after test to no avail—none of his results that come back make any sense—all while his temperature continues to rise.

Patient temperature currently: 105°

Plastic backliners flutter to the floor when you rip them off the electrodes, pasting the small metal discs around Hadir’s scalp for the EEG, working as quickly and efficiently as possible.

“Has his temperature come down yet?” you bark, too preoccupied with your work to chance a glance up at the monitor.

“No,” Gaz says curtly. “Still 105°.”

It’s all happening so quickly that you can’t seem to get your bearings. If it were anyone else on the table, you’d at least have Hadir to assist you; you’re on your own now though, Gaz barely any help to you without any real medical knowledge.

Your heart pounds against your chest when you notice blood coming up Hadir’s ET tube. A few droplets at first, and then a trickle.

A horrible, prophetic knowledge falls over you, threatening to collapse you.

“What’s wrong with him?” Gaz asks.

“I don’t know—” Then his nose starts to bleed and your heart stops. The stain on the front of his gown and what you find underneath it when you lift it up confirms your worst suspicions. “He’s going into DIC—”

“DIC?”

“His blood—”

The AI takes that moment to interject, speaking over you: Patient body has used up all of its clotting factors and will begin to bleed out

Sepsis—a severe infection—an autoimmune response—trauma—cancer—so many different possible answers to explain why Hadir would spontaneously go into disseminated intravascular coagulation, but his labs tell you shit. Nothing makes sense. You can’t explain why he might be hemorrhaging because there isn’t anything in his scans or labs to indicate anything wrong with him.

More blood leaks from his face and nethers, staining the light blue of the bed a dark red. Logical objections halt in the face of the tangible, and blood is tangible. Blood is all you see.

The final moments are harried, frenzied. You bark orders at Gaz, which he follows militarily, and struggle in vain to keep Hadir’s condition from further deteriorating, but it’s nearly impossible without being able to address the root cause. Transfusions of platelets, fresh frozen plasma, and cryoprecipitate only go so far.

When his brain activity goes flat on the monitor, your mind goes blank. Static noise fills your head. You slump against the wall, staring at Hadir’s bleeding body on the exam table, still leaking blood from all of his orifices, the sound of the monitor blaring like a siren in your ears.

“He’s dead,” Gaz says blandly, staring at the body nonplussed.

“Yeah,” you rasp. Your voice is thick in your throat, devastated.

There’s blood all over the bed, more in one place than you’ve seen in a long time—not since working in trauma units back on Earth. Every inch of your body aches as the adrenaline recedes, having reached its peak in the throes of Hadir’s final moments, jaw so tight you almost can’t unclench it.

“What happened?” he asks, almost quizzically.

The curious lack of emotion in his voice doesn’t penetrate through the brain fog. “I don’t know—he just…”

The weight of all that just happened comes over you swiftly. An hour ago, Hadir was fine for all intents and purposes. Stable. Now, blood stains his chin, the underside of his nose, the front of his gown, and the bed underneath him, the sweat caked on his forehead cooling as the life leaches out of his body.

Your hands shake by your sides, a violent tremble rolling through you.

“I don’t get it,” you whisper.

You should’ve quarantined Hadir from the start, from the very second he was admitted into your care. You should’ve ignored the fact that his labs came back fine that first day and just assumed that the nature of his illness was more severe than it appeared. Shame and dread plunge like a dagger through your midsection.

Protocol should’ve dictated that you initiate a quarantine, but since you didn’t—

You stare at the body on the table, the ET tube streaked with blood.

—your duty now is to ensure that no one else gets sick too.

You’ll need to seal off the medbay until every surface has been properly decontaminated and then quarantine yourself until you’re sure that you aren’t infected as well. Your eyes flick towards Gaz momentarily before you shoot down the thought of testing him as well.

Mitigate the transmission. That thought sticks out amongst the rest. The body lying on the bed in the middle of the room is no longer a patient that needs tending to but rather hazardous material that needs to be disposed of lest whatever infected it is transmitted to everyone else on board the ship.

It’s waste. Filth. And it will contaminate everything on board if you don’t remove it.

Your body moves on autopilot. You wheel the bed to the ejection chute at the back of the medbay. It takes a series of codes in order to open the door to the chute and you key them in quickly and efficiently. When the door slides open, you raise the bed until it’s slightly higher than the chute, tipping the bed forward in order for the body to slide into it.

Ejection chute engaged

Hadir’s body disappears into the chute, the reinforced metal and glass sliding shut when the sensors register that the chute door is empty. There’s a thunk from behind the wall as his body is shuttled through the pneumatic tubes towards the back of the ship, and it won’t be more than a minute before the body is projected from the ship entirely.

Your heart skips a beat when the AI pings awake again.

Object ejected

“I wouldn't have done that if I were you,” Gaz says, and you flinch at the sound of his voice, momentarily forgetting that someone else is in the room with you.

Your eyes drift over to him, the room murky for a moment, the air hazy like water, like you’re looking through a film and only just starting to settle back down into your body after watching from overhead. He seems bigger somehow.

“We have to quarantine ourselves,” you say, frantically towards one of the cupboards and ripping it open, pulling out rolls of plastic to plaster over the door. “We didn’t put on any PPE, so we might’ve been exposed to whatever Hadir had.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.”

His lips are turned up at the corners when you look over, frowning, but noise in the hallway keeps you from following up on his remark.

The announcement over the intercom must have alerted the others, and you hear footsteps from down the hall seconds before they arrive, boots clanking against the metal flooring. When the door slides open and you see Farah standing there with Alex at her back, her face hauntingly vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen before, words fail you.

“What happened?” Farah asks.

“I don’t know. He was fine just a second ago and then—”

“Where is he?” she demands, scanning the room for him. “Where’s Hadir?”

“I—” The words get tangled up in your throat, terror and shame making it hard enough to breathe, never mind speak.

Graves barrels in a second later, flushed and out of breath. He must have been in the cockpit when the intercom alerted him to the ejection chute being utilized. Nikolai is fast on his heels, less winded but just as concerned.

You realize that from the direction Nikolai came, he must’ve been at the back of the spacecraft, and you morbidly wonder if he heard the sound of Hadir’s body ferrying through the pneumatic tube system.

“Doctor, what did you just throw out of the chute?” Graves asks, his tone hard and uncompromising, softened only by the breathless note in his voice from running halfway across the ship.

You don’t answer.

His eyes lift to the space over your shoulder, where the patient bed is flush to the wall, the head level with the chute leading out of the ship. Blood still saturates the mattress.

You watch as the knowledge of what you’ve done dawns on them, realization morphing into distress and horror. From behind Farah, Alex goes ashen, a hand clamping down on her shoulder to hold her in place before she realizes what you’ve done and the inevitable happens. You see it play out in your head like a movie.

“Farah—” he starts, but any effort to steer her out of the room is thwarted by how quickly she comes to the same conclusion.

“Where’s my brother?” Farah screams, and you wince, your head aching like there’s something else in there listening to her scream too.

Alex has to hold her back from lunging at you, fighting to keep her in his arms, her body thrashing wildly. You’ve never seen her like this before. Grief and rage strip her of stoicism, and when her screams turn to tears, it rips a hole right through you.

“You ejected Hadir from the ship?” Graves breathes, stunned.

Nikolai just stares, at a loss for words. You’ve never seen any of them so obviously affected, so contrary to the image of them that you’ve carried with you in your mind for months.

“I had to!” you shout, vocal cords tearing under the strain. “We couldn’t keep his body on board! What if it was some hemorrhagic fever—like ebola? Or worse?”

“You don’t even know what killed—” Graves roars before stopping abruptly, squeezing his eyes shut. He presses his fist to his mouth, the skin around his knuckles bone white.

“We need to quarantine.” Your fingers tremble when you press them to your temples, flinching when you realize that your gloves are still covered in blood. “I was going to seal off the room to keep it from spreading, but now that you’re all here, we’re probably all been infected—”

“Infected by what?”

“I don’t know.”

A shade is falling over you. Everything feels raw, livid—a wound being prodded. The light hurts your eyes when you lift them from the floor to meet Graves’ gaze. Even the air feels caustic against your skin.

Even your impulses don’t feel like your own, like there is some

insidious rot

fruiting under your skin.

“Are you going to say anything to them?” you finally snap at Gaz, desperation loosening your tongue. “You were here—you saw what happened. Why aren’t you telling them what happened?”

The others turn to look at him, orienting like sunflowers towards the sun. It’s the only comparison that comes to mind. And at the centre of them, Gaz stares back at you, an ersatz approximation of confusion.

He gives a slow blink, eyes glinting with something unknown. “Tell them what? That you tossed Hadir out into space?”

You should’ve expected that you’d be left hanging, but the reality of it is unbearable. Humiliating.

You know what you look like to them: dangerous, erratic. Your paranoia on full display. Even Nikolai’s mouth is set in a grim line.

You can hear the accusations flying through their minds—that you caused this somehow. Overdosed him on anti-clotting medication and let him bleed out, then disposed of the body before a proper autopsy could be performed. That maybe you prolonged his illness, knowing it would lead to this.

It happens swiftly and without word, as if planned ahead of time. Nikolai and Graves lunge towards you suddenly, grabbing you by the undersides of your arms and nearly lifting you off your feet when they haul you forcibly out of the room. Alex still has Farah trapped in his arms in the corner of the room when they drag you past her.

“Farah, I’m sorry—I’m sorry—”

You’re not strong enough to break free of Graves’ and Nikolai’s hold though, so you’re carried off before Farah can say anything. There’s only a split second for your eyes to lock and for you to see something broken beyond recognition there, and then the door cuts you off from her.

“You’re all fucking insane—let me go—” you scream, spittle flying from your mouth. The scream that tears out of you is so animalistic and loud that your throat squeezes up in protest, a cough forcing its way out. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Down the hall and towards the back of the ship. Boots echo against the metal floors, the two men on either side of you in sync with each other. Neither says a word nor responds to your screams. Their patience with your increasingly unhinged behaviour has finally crossed a threshold once thought impossible, your reputation alone no longer enough to save you.

They all but throw you into the brig, the metal door clanging shut behind you when you’re dropped to your hands and knees, peering over your shoulder to find Nikolai punching in the key to lock and arm the door, a wretched, pained look on his face.

“Nikolai, please—” you beg, crawling to the door and curling your hands around the bar. “It wasn’t my fault—I didn’t kill Hadir. I’m sorry! He could’ve made everyone on board sick if we’d kept the body! Please, Nikolai, please—”

Your pleas fall on deaf ears. The last sound you hear is the brig door slamming shut and then their footsteps gradually recede into the distance.

#ceil writing #cod x reader #gaz x reader #gaz x you #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x you #gaz/reader

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whenthewallfell · 3 months ago

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Some of the supporting cast of the thg/rdr mashup! I was gonna wait until the proper portraits were done but got too impatient haha

(deets below the cut)

Haymitch Abernathy

Not much is known about who he was before coming to New Hanover - his youth, his family, and his name are all things he refuses to talk about. What is known is that he spent some time as a migrant worker, travelling the states until he eventually came into the employ of government official Coriolanus Snow as a gun-for-hire. Snow later granted him a homestead in Cumberland Forest, in what would become a precursor to the General Allotment Act.

Despite the close proximity and occasional trades with the Wapiti tribe, Haymitch rebuffs all offers of community, preferring to spend his days in solitude. Recently, however, Katniss has strongarmed her way into his life, using his house as a base of operations whether he wants her to or not.

Johanna Yau

Yau Qiuyue was born and raised in West Elizabeth to a railroad worker and his wife, until the Chinatown they lived in was burned down by locals. Qiuyue was one of the few survivors, taken to be sold to a brothel; the men were found dead a few days later with a hatchet buried so deep in one man's skull they couldn't pull it out. She reappeared travelling under the name Johanna Yau with a bounty hunter, Haymitch Abernathy, who took her under his wing and taught her how to handle firearms.

These days she's something of a local legend - a vigilante who wipes out gangs and deals brutal justice to those who target immigrant workers. Known as The Dragoness of West Elizabeth, she is sometimes accompanied by the woman journalist Cressida Mason, who chronicles (and embellishes) her deeds. They make for an odd couple, preferring each other's company to that of any hopeful suitors.

Euphemia Trinket

A somewhat naïve secretary of Snow's who was tasked with monitoring his investment in the new allotment project, Euphemia is required to make fortnightly checkups and send reports on Haymitch's progress with the homestead. The position, while offering more freedom and independence than she might find otherwise, is not without its downsides - the fashion and culture of New Hanover is severely lacking in her eyes, and she misses the hustle and bustle of Blackwater.

Originally, Effie believed that what they were doing was essential to the betterment of their native neighbours and their introduction into Civilised Society, but she is beginning to have doubts after seeing the true extent of Haymitch's depression and the living conditions on the nearby reservation.

Primrose

Sister and polar opposite to Katniss, Primrose is a sweet girl with a sunny disposition, growing into a fine healer under the tutelage of her mother. She's also an accomplished sewist who is fascinated by 'modern' fashion, and enjoys blending outside and Wapiti influences into her own clothing whenever she can. She sometimes offers to work on Effie's as well in exchange for fashion plates and fabrics from the city.

Despite her gentle manner, however, Prim is deeply stubborn and fiercely devoted to her tribe and family. She thinks Katniss' idea of shipping her off to some random faraway city is the stupidest thing she's ever heard, and isn't afraid to fight her sister every step of the way.

#haymitch is immensely proud of johanna and keeps clippings of every article she's mentioned in (not that he'd admit it)#johanna and cressida are lesbians and in love #effie hates haymitch's horse and thinks they're both smelly but she also has a thing for dark brooding types #so ofc she has a massive crush on haymitch and is absolutely devastated by it #also this is the first time i've ever drawn prim so that's exciting #i know fringes aren't really a thing in the 1800s but look at her she's so adorable i couldn't NOT do it #haymitch abernathy #johanna mason #effie trinket #primrose everdeen #the hunger games #rdr2 #these unending skies #fanart #mcbaart

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rahulsinha · 3 months ago

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Optimize Climate Control with IoT-Based HVAC Monitoring System

IoT-based HVAC monitoring optimizes energy use, enhances comfort, and reduces costs through real-time data, predictive maintenance, and automation. Smart sensors, AI analytics, and remote control improve air quality, extend equipment lifespan, and integrate with smart buildings. This technology ensures sustainability, efficiency, and smarter climate management for businesses and homeowners alike.

#IoT-based HVAC monitoring #hvac services #air conditioning #heating #hvac automation system

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animalphotorefs · 3 months ago

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Quickly boosting the repository's Patreon! This is where the magic happens (aka where you get sneak peeks of upcoming photos, plus exclusive videos)!

The art reference project is run entirely on donations. Contributions from users like you make it so I can continue expanding the species and photosets.

Here's a quick cost breakdown of my recent day-trip to go add newborn elephant photos to the repository:

Gas - $75

Camera lens rental - $45 (needed for specific building/lighting conditions)

Zoo ticket - $26

Parking - $10

Food - none, brought it with me

Lodging - none, day-trip

Time - 6.5 hours of driving, 6 hours at the zoo

Total: 12.5 hours of time and $156 for day-of trip costs. All covered by one month of support from current Patrons!

What it contributed for site (online soon):

Newborn Asian elephant photos

At least five new species (insects!) for a whole new site category

Nesting behavior in red-billed hornbills

Two new amphibian species

Way better photos of a crocodile monitor than currently on the site

Wing references for California condors in flight!

Harbor seal banana pose, 1-800-r-u-slapping pose, and face/flipper closeups

Some stellar mountain goat shots

Right now the Patreon funds one day trip like this a month, as long as it's within a couple hours drive from my home base. My current goal is for the Patreon to reach maybe... 350 a month? $350 a month would let me travel further afield this summer - driving and car-camping a couple days at a time - to capture species not in human care in the PNW. Can we make it happen? There's a reptile place with over 80 species of snake I'm itching to return to... and baby bongos just begging to be photographed...

Thanks so much to all of my current Patrons! You're literally why I can keep doing this work and running the site.

#crowdfunding #art references #art resources #exotic animal photo reference repository #animal photography #animal reference photos #art reference #art resource #art inspo #free use images #crocodile monitor #photography #mountain goat

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probablyasocialecologist · 4 months ago

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For years now, both Democratic and Republican administrations have used a little-known section of the Guantánamo Bay Naval base to detain migrants, primarily from the Caribbean. And due to the secrecy of the facility, known as the Guantánamo Migrant Operations Center (MOC), conditions at the facility are generally unknown. In the fall, Drop Site News published previously unreported details of the treatment of migrants at the MOC, the bureaucratic process of how migrants are detained, and the private prison companies profiting from the detention center. In August 2024, the Biden administration granted a private prison company a $163.4 million contract to run the facility. "For decades, the Guantanamo migrant detention center has been the hallmark of the most inhumane, racist, and brutal U.S. policies against people seeking refuge," said Jesse Franzblau, senior policy analyst with the National Immigrant Justice Center. "The Biden administration could have shut down the facility but tragically renewed and entered into new contracts to keep it up and running." Drop Site News revealed that the MOC can detain single adults, families, and unaccompanied children. Because the MOC is inside of a military base, migrants awaiting processing are transported in black out vans “with hand restraints and black out goggles to obscure their vision,” according to the documents obtained by Drop Site. Migrants also have limited communication with the outside world, with their few phone calls monitored for “restricted information,” including information about the navy base, the documents showed.

30 January 2025

#guantanamo bay #migrants #immigration #trump #ice #joe biden

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foldingfittedsheets · 5 months ago

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Oh my god. Okay. Technology rant incoming.

So I sell beds. I get deals on stuff like mattresses and adjustable bases. The adjustable vibrates which helps me fall asleep and tips the head and feet up for comfort. I got us a Tempurpedic Ergo Smart Base for the new king size bed. I have an eight year old Ergo Premier that’s in the guest room now and has never had any problems. It is far and away better than the current model we just got.

The new one has a bunch of features like monitoring your sleeping and we’re told to pitch the app that comes with it. Now my beef is we tell customers that they can use their phone as the remote if they want. But the only way to do that is to get the app and agree to let Tempurpedic have all your data, much of which relate to medical conditions? Hated that.

But then I started snoring. And one of the features that’s only on the app is an automatic response to snoring. It’ll vibrate you to have you turn over or elevate the bed more. For my beloved wife I wanted to activate the snore response. So I joined the fucking app. It requires your height and weight. I told it I was seven feet tall and weighed one pound cause fuck their data.

Then I set up the app. It requires an internet connection. Because I don’t want that fucker beaconing my data that I was forced to sign up for I tethered my phone and had it connect to that. Once setup was done I disconnected it.

It ceases to function without WiFi. A basic thing that is programmed in the base itself will not activate without WiFi. I’m fuming. Tried to hook it up to actual WiFi and this fucking thing won’t connect to the non-hotspot WiFi at all. Their help page just talks about getting a better router.

Livid doesn’t come close to covering my feelings about this shit. I’m emailing support but I am gonna fully stop recommending their product on this basis.

#ramblies #adjustable base

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thirdeye-ai · 1 year ago

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Condition Based Monitoring & Maintenance Solutions

Condition Based Monitoring & Maintenance is essential for modern businesses seeking to optimize their operations. With solutions like predictive insights, proactive scheduling, and reduced downtime, organizations can enjoy increased asset lifespan, minimized costs, and streamlined operations. Thirdeye AI leads the charge in revolutionizing maintenance strategies, offering innovative tools and expertise to propel businesses into a smarter, more efficient future. Experience the power of Thirdeye AI today!

#Condition Based Monitoring & Maintenance Solutions #Condition Based Monitoring #ConditionMonitoring #PredictiveMaintenance #Condition Based Monitoring & Maintenance #ThirdeyeAI

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vigilante-3073 · 4 months ago

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POTS

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Y/N suffers from POTS and experiences a fainting spell at work, luckily Spencer is there to catch her.

TW: Mentions of medical conditions/fainting, medical terms, pre-established relationship.

Y/N had been diagnosed with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome just under a year ago. She had been experiencing symptoms for quite a while before her diagnosis and it felt like everything finally made sense. Y/N had been managing her condition well up until this point, but she still had bad days.

Y/N was a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit and she was a profiler. She didn't carry a gun, her intellect was her weapon and she liked it that way. Guns had always made her uncomfortable and Y/N preferred to be behind the scenes instead of on the front line.

Y/N continued to add to a relatively impressive knowledge base over the years, adding degrees in relevant fields. Y/N currently possessed Doctorates in Abnormal Psychology and Behavioral Psychology, she had a Degree in both Criminology and Criminal Psychology. She also had a Graduate degree in Criminal Justice and was working on getting her Bachelor's degree in Child Psychology.

Her resume was impressive and Gideon hired her on the spot, he knew that she could contribute a large wealth of knowledge to the team.

Y/N clicked with Spencer quickly and they became inseparable as time went on. They sat beside each other in the bullpen and talked every day without fail.

It took three years of working together before Spencer was finally able to admit that he had feelings for her. Spencer asked her out on a date, taking her to dinner at their favorite restaurant before watching a movie at the theater.

It was perfect and they had been together since.

Y/N and Spencer had always done their best to keep their relationship separate from their work life. Y/N tended to be a rather private person and Spencer was completely on board with following her lead on the matter.

Hotch was the only one who knew about their relationship, they informed him and human resources but kept things between them for the most part.

Spencer could definitely see a future with Y/N, he knew that they would have to tell the team at some point but it was nice to have this one thing be entirely their's. It was hard work to keep a secret from a group of people who made skilled observations for a living.

Since they started dating, Spencer had become rather skilled at noticing when her condition was giving her a rough time. Y/N had learned that standing for long periods of time, being in hot places, strenuous exercise and changing positions too quickly had the biggest effect on her. Her heart would race and her blood pressure would plummet which could lead her to get incredibly dizzy or even lose consciousness.

Spencer always made sure to monitor her fluid and salt intake, offering snacks to her throughout the day to make sure she was alright. He was incredibly caring and went about it in a way that didn't make her feel like it was a chore to him.

...

Y/N made her way into the briefing room, taking her seat at the table beside Spencer. Hotch followed closely behind her, sitting down and opening his file. Garcia went through the briefing, clicking through the crime scene photos as she went over the case.

"Alright, we need to get to Texas. Wheels up in thirty," Hotch stated, closing his file and standing up.

The team followed after him, closing their case files and exiting the conference room to get their bags. Spencer stood up, holding his copy of the file with his bag slung over his shoulder, lingering by the table as he waited for Y/N.

Y/N stood up from her seat, closing her eyes as a sudden wave of dizziness hit her. She swayed on her feet, Spencer dropped his bag and file, stepping forward quickly. He wrapped his arm around her waist, resting his other hand on her head and holding her close to his chest.

"Spencer," She mumbled, heart pounding in her chest as she lost consciousness.

Her knees buckled and her body leaned heavily into his chest, Spencer eased her down to the floor carefully. He laid her on her back, shrugging off his blazer and laying it over her body.

Spencer pulled a chair over, elevating her legs to help the blood return to her heart. He shifted back over to her head, sitting by her side and providing silent support as he waited for her to come back around.

Spencer's fingers settled on her wrist, fingers resting on her pulse and finding himself shocked at how high her heart rate was. Garcia made her way back into the room, she gasped softly when she saw her coworkers on the floor.

"What happened? Is she okay?" Garcia asked, Spencer nodded.

"She has a condition. When she stands up to fast, her heart rate speeds up and her blood pressure drops," Spencer stated.

"Do we need to call an ambulance?" Garcia asked, Spencer shook his head.

"She'll be fine. Just takes her a minute to come back around," Spencer assured.

"I can get her some water if that would help," Garcia offered.

"That would be great. Thank you," Spencer stated, she nodded and rushed back out of the room.

Spencer looked down at Y/N, he could feel her heart beat returning to normal. Y/N shifted, eyes fluttering open as she stared up at him.

"You're okay," He assured with a gentle smile.

Y/N shifted, settling her legs on the floor and sitting up slowly. She made a soft noise, closing her eyes as her vision swam once again.

Spencer shifted up behind her, gently guiding her body back to rest against his chest, "Don't rush," He said.

Her head dropped back onto his shoulder, her eyes drifting closed, "I don't feel good," She mumbled.

"I'm sorry... Garcia is getting you some water and I have a couple snacks in my bag," Spencer offered.

"Did Garcia see me pass out?" Y/N asked softly.

"No, it was just you and me in here. She came in after," Spencer said, Y/N nodded.

Garcia made her way into the conference room, "Oh, honeybunch, you're back. I brought you some water," Garcia said, holding out the cup of water.

Spencer took the cup from her hand, holding it up for Y/N and allowing her to take a sip, "Can you pass me my bag? I have some snacks for her in there," Spencer said.

Garcia nodded, moving around the table and grabbing Spencer's bag from the back of his chair. She carried it over and set it on the floor beside him.

Spencer set the cup down, unzipping his bag and sifting around the contents before he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a granola bar and a packet of salt, he reached in front of Y/N and tore open the packet.

Spencer lifted the pack up, dumping the salt onto her tongue before quickly passing her the glass of water.

Y/N grimaced, taking the cup and drinking the rest of the water. Spencer picked up the granola bar, "Do you want a snack now? Or do you want to wait?" He asked.

"Wait," She stated, he nodded and put the granola bar back into his bag.

"How do you feel?" Garcia asked.

"Awful, but it'll pass," Y/N answered.

"Do you want me to tell Hotch? I'm sure you can help over video chat if you stay behind," Garcia offered.

"No, I'm fine, Garcia. It just takes me a minute," Y/N assured.

"Did you eat breakfast?" Spencer questioned.

Y/N hesitated, "I was running late this morning," She said softly.

"We can pick something up for you on the way to the plane," Spencer said, Y/N nodded.

"Do you think you're ready to get up? Or do you want to sit for a bit longer?" Spencer asked, his hand absent-mindedly rubbing over the skin of her bicep.

"I think I'm okay," Y/N said.

Spencer stood up from behind her, moving around and holding out his hands to her. Y/N settled her hands in his, allowing him to pull her to her feet slowly.

"You okay?" He asked, looking down at her.

Y/N nodded, Spencer bent down and picked up his blazer from the floor. He grabbed his case file and his bag, slinging the strap over his shoulder. Spencer rested his hand on Y/N's back and guided her out of the conference room.

Garcia watched them leave, a small smile settling on her face as she watched how gentle he was with her. Her face suddenly fell, "Oh my god," She muttered.

...

The case went by quickly and everyone returned to Quantico, settling at their desks and completing their paperwork. Y/N filled out her documents easily, pen gliding across the page as she worked.

Spencer looked over at her, watching her work for a moment before his gaze quickly swept the room for any prying eyes.

His eyes returned to Y/N, he leaned over slightly, "Hey, Y/N," He called softly.

Y/N looked over at him, "Do you want to get dinner together after we're done?" He asked.

"I'd love to," She smiled.

"Okay," Spencer nodded, smiling back at her.

The pair returned to their work quietly, completing their reports and turning them in before packing up.

Y/N pulled on her coat and purse, waiting for Spencer before the pair walked out of the bullpen together. They stepped into the elevator and Y/N pressed the button for the main level, the couple chatted about restaurants during the ride down.

Y/N and Spencer made their way out of the building and into the parking garage. Spencer followed Y/N to her car, he looked around the parking structure before he took Y/N's hand in his. Spencer slowed to a stop, giving her hand a gentle tug.

Y/N turned to face him, "What are you doing?" She questioned.

He shrugged, taking a step closer to her and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. Y/N's eyes fluttered shut, smiling up at him as he pulled away.

"What was that for?" She questioned.

"I just love you," Spencer shrugged.

"I love you too," Y/N replied, adjusting the collar of his coat.

"No way!" Someone yelled.

Spencer turned to see Morgan approaching them with a wide grin, "Garcia told me you guys were together and I thought she was full of it. I thought there was no way that pretty boy actually made a move. Then I see you two smooching away out here," Morgan teased.

"I guess the cat's out of the bag," Spencer said.

"I guess so," Y/N nodded.

"How long has the cat been in the bag exactly?" Morgan asked.

"Year and a half," Spencer shrugged.

"You kept this a secret for over a year? I'm impressed," Morgan nodded.

"I just didn't want to make things awkward within the team," Y/N stated.

"Are you kidding? There's been a betting pool for years about when you two would finally get together," Morgan said.

"Are you serious? Who bet?" Spencer asked.

Morgan hesitated, "Pretty much everyone," He said.

"I can't believe it," Y/N said, shaking her head with a soft smile.

"So, now that everyone knows about you two," Morgan started.

"Wait, everyone?" Y/N asked.

"Yeah, obviously, Garcia was the first one to figure it out. She told anyone who'd listen," Morgan said.

Y/N's cheeks flushed, "I was wondering if the rest of the team and I could join you two for dinner. Meal is on Emily because she won the bet," Morgan offered.

Spencer looked over at Y/N, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze before returning his attention to their friend.

"That would be great," He nodded.

"Perfect! I'll let the people know," Morgan smiled, turning around and making his way back to the office.

Y/N shook her head, "All that because you couldn't wait to kiss me until we got home," She teased.

"I would kiss you every minute of every day if I could," Spencer stated.

"I love you," Y/N said, leaning in and giving him another gentle kiss before pulling away.

"I didn't expect our relationship to cause such a stir in the office, but I'm glad it's out in the open now," Spencer said, Y/N nodded.

"Wait until they find out we've been living together for six months. They'll lose their minds," Y/N smiled.

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