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endlessvoiq · 2 years

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I WROTE A THING!! be prepared to read about all the funny little guys who've been in my head for a bit <3

CW : animal death

Word count : 2252

Magpie

The area near the lake was calm as the sun shone high above, a few grey clouds on the horizon warning of rain. The wind blew by, rustling reeds and grass and sending ripples gliding across the lake in archs that grew larger the further along they went. Dragonflies raced past a large oak that towered overhead, casting shade into the lake. A worn down rope was tied to a thick branch of the oak that hung over the lake, the result of recent generations using it to swing into the water. Right now, though, there were no humans. A family of deer rested under the oak, the doe and the buck lying in the shade while the fawn stood at the shore of the lake, staring at the fish darting and swimming below the surface as duckweed tickled at its legs. A flock of geese, flying back home now that winter had ended, flew down to the edge of the water, some of them lowering their beaks to sip from the water or get a meal from the nearby plants. Hungry from flying longer than they normally would, the flock showed no mercy to the nearby clumps of clover and brome grass. A large goose, the largest of the flock, lifted its head to look around as it heard a small splash of water from the lake.

As it did, an arrow suddenly shot past the other geese in the flock, lodging itself into the large goose's chest, killing it. The rest of the flock let out panicked squacks and honks as they flew to avoid another shot of an arrow. The adult deer resting under the oak swiftly ushered their fawn away as a human revealed himself from a clump of reeds nearby. He aimed at some of the lower flying geese, managing to shoot it out of the sky, smiling to himself proudly as he did so. Yes! That shot was amazing! Just got it straight out of the sky! He thought, though, as he looked up at the rest of the flock, he frowned. They were too far away to hit now. Darn it…well, I did get two good ones anyway. That first one's a fat one, and the rest won't be able to deny shooting a goose out of the sky is impressive, he thought, as he went to pick up the two geese he had shot. He picked up the large goose, taking the arrow out and patching up the hole it had made so no maggots or other bugs would get into the goose. The human then placed the large goose in a basket weaved from the fiber, bark, and twigs of a tree, before retrieving the other goose and fixing it in the same manner he had for the first goose.

The human now looked around. Not much else I could do…unless I want to try being a fisherman! He chuckled at the joke he'd just made up, now thinking to himself as he walked back to the reeds. Maybe I could wait here until some other birds come along. Maybe some more geese, maybe some ducks…maybe even a hawk! He grinned, walking deep into the reeds once again and crouching down slightly, standing a bit more than knee deep in the water. Now, it was all about waiting.

After about an hour of waiting, he was tired of standing still, doing nothing. He looked around, grumbling, before noticing a family of ducks waddling to the lake from the southeast. He quieted down, readying his bow. The flock hopped into the lake, swimming around. Though the males stood out among the females, with their green heads, the females were outnumbered. He made a mental note not to shoot any of the female ducks, as where he was from, it was frowned upon to kill whatever gender of an animal's group was less common : they didn't want the population of said animal to suffer, after all. He aimed toward a male duck that was swimming a bit further away from the rest of the flock, and as it slowed down to search for food under the surface of the water, he fired. The shot hit. As the flock began to panic and swim deeper into the lake, he aimed again, firing at another duck, though missing. The human flinched as some of the ducks began to take flight, and quickly fired with his last arrow, hitting an older duck who hadn't begun to fly yet.

He let out a sigh of relief that soon turned into a groan as he realized he would now have to swim out into the lake to get the ducks he shot before the fish did. Putting the basket with the geese and his bow on the shore, he leapt into the water, shivering a bit as the cool water enveloped him. He flinched as he felt something touch his leg, quickly swimming back up to the surface and gasping, looking down. Realizing it had just been a bit of pondweed, he felt like hitting himself for freaking out over it. The human sighed, now swimming to retrieve the ducks. As he approached the first one, a small group of fish who had been curious about it fled as he swam over, picking up the duck and now beginning to swim over to the second one. A black winged butterfly with white and light blue markings and an orange, eye-like spot on its lower wings who had been standing on the dead duck fluttered away as the human grabbed the second duck, now swimming to the shore to retrieve the arrow that had missed. He climbed onto the shore, shivering a bit as a gust of wind blew by, making him feel colder due to the water on him. The human now searched for the missing arrow, looking through reeds and shrubbery until he finally found it. As he picked it up, he stared, realizing it had hit a bird, just one he hadn't been expecting.

The arrow was lodged into the chest of a magpie.

The human blinked in confusion. A magpie? He thought, but magpies…aren't native to this area? I've never even seen a magpie here until now… he blinked in confusion, before shrugging. Oh, well…Mom said she needed more things to fertilize the crops, might as well not let this go to waste, he hummed, now walking back to where he had left his stuff. The human placed the ducks next to the geese, and the magpie beneath all the birds. He put his bow on his back and his arrows in their quiver, before beginning to walk home, leaving the lake and now approaching the forest.

The forest and its creatures were going through their afternoon activities. The trees were gathering as much energy as they could, knowing nightfall would inevitably fall soon, as the wind rustled through their leaves. A badger stomped through the undergrowth of the forest, sniffing around for food as a mole dug deeper into the ground. The birds still sung, however, were moreso conversing rather than singing a tune, as they looked for food to be well fed before nightfall. Sunset critters were awakening, as crickets hopped around, waiting for the dark of night to begin their song. A spider finished its meal before crawling off of its web onto the branch it was situated on, skittering away into a more hidden spot as the wind blew rain-filled clouds toward the forest. A fox chomped at some mushrooms, before lifting its head to sniff the air and listen to its surroundings, retreating as it scented the human approaching and heard the steps the human took as he walked through some bushes, looking around.

He frowned, though continued walking. Am I lost? Wait- wait, no, I recognize that tree! I think? Oh, no, I don't. He thought, sighing, I think I'm lost. He worriedly looked around, speeding up a bit. He'd rather not find himself lost once the sun actually sets and night falls. Continuing to wander, he kept an eye out for anything he could recognize, occasionally making random turns in an attempt to find his way home. Eventually, he finally saw something he recognized, "yes!" He cheered, grinning as he now ran in the direction home. He continued running, zooming past trees and jumping over logs and rocks. He knew this path well, and it'd remain unchanged for years : he hadn't fallen or tripped on this path since he was a toddler. That was, until he suddenly bumped into something new, rubbing his face and backing up. "Ow- what-" he grumbled, before flinching, staring up at the huge thing he'd bumped into that let out a low grumble, turning its head to look at him as a sharp shot of fear pierced his heart.

A large beast towered above him, staring down. Moss covered its hunched body, draping over and covering its eyes like a long cloak and hair, while lichen, mushrooms, and other plants grew on its off-colored, bone-like limbs- or were they bones? He couldn't tell. The clumps of moss hid the beast's eyes, though large horns the color of dark oak spun out of the plants, and a bit of its boney snout could be seen. The Beast crouched down, and the human shuddered as he could see it had multiple limbs under the mess of moss and plants ; he could count six, maybe eight. The Beast leaned a bit toward him, before whispering in a voice that sounded hoarse,

"Pardon me, could you pass over that magpie?"

The human blinked. He looked down into his basket, where the magpie's dark feathers contrasted against the ducks and geese he had hunted. He had originally planned to simply place it in the farmland to rot and fertilize the crops, as he'd been taught that if you ate a magpie from the woods, it'd bring terrible bad luck for years, something he quite frankly did not want. He looked up at the Beast nervously, "What, uh..do you..need it for..?" He stammered, as the Beast hummed.

"Birds are quite good at conducting the sky's will, small human. The wind speaks to them when it blows through, and clouds whisper their tales. The bird listens to it all as it grows, and its body makes its feathers to keep the stories, so the bird will remember where to go once it grows, so the bird may remember what to sing," the Beast spoke, their hoarse voice speaking in a soft, mystic tone that flowed as smoothly as a creek, sounding gentle, yet powerful.

The Beast's tale intrigued the human, who spoke in a voice full of awe and curiosity, "they do? Why do you need the magpie specifically, then? Do waterfowls not listen to those tales, as well? Do the chickens, who cannot fly, listen, or the tiny birds who spend most of their time on the ground searching for seeds and bugs?"

In a response that confused the human, the Beast only chuckled, a low rumbling releasing from its throat as it lifted the moss out of its eyes with one clawed hand, staring the human directly in the eyes. The human shivered a bit, but didn't dare turn away as the Beast whispered, "what do you think?" The human blinked in confusion. "What do you mean? I'm asking you what the answer is!" He remarked, the confusion in him growing as the Beast chuckled yet again,

"ah…you humans are full of that urge for knowledge, aren't you? You search for the answer, and once that answer's found, you search for something else to question, so you may find the answer. Intriguing it is, yet unfortunate as well, for you are not taught by nature, but yourselves. You disgrace instinct and call it lesser, while truly, you still belong to the ground beneath your feet, at the mercy of the sky, the sea, and the earth," the Beast uttered, its smooth tone edged with a hint of foreboding that made the human shudder. The Beast lowered its claws, letting the moss fall over its eyes before it questioned once again, "now, could you pass over the magpie, if it does not bother you?"

The human stared for a moment, before quickly reaching into the basket, pulling out the magpie and holding it out. A large, clawed hand, that was around the same size as the human's head, maybe a bit larger, exited the moss, reaching out and gently taking the magpie, before retreating back into the moss that covered the Beast. The Beast now stood to a larger height, dipping its head and smiling.

"Thank you. May peace bless you and your harvest for the next moon, and may you find the answers you search for," the Beast croaked, before stepping back into the deep undergrowth of the woods as the human watched in awe.

The human stood there for a moment, staring even after the Beast had left. He then gasped suddenly, as if he'd been holding his breath, and ran home holding the basket as the sun lowered, the sky shifting to brilliant oranges, pale pinks, and a dark blue across from it, hinting toward the moon's arrival. Now, the human sat at the edge of the forest, staring into its darkness as his home, now behind him, was but a far away speck.

He stared into the forest, and the forest seemed to stare back.

#writing #cw animal death #creature #fantasy #i think #magpie #end.lessv #animal death #original works #original writing #goose #duck #birds #moss #beast #la creatura

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happytapirstudio · 8 months

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Redwall Reread #2: Martin the Warrior

2nd in chronological order, 6th in publication order (1993)

(major spoilers under the cut)

Summary: A young mouse warrior named Martin escapes from slavery at the evil fortress Marshank and journeys to the hidden valley of Noonvale to raise an army, destroy Marshank, free the slaves, and seek vengeance against the stoat tyrant, Badrang.

Framing Device: Two travelers stop by Redwall Abbey one winter night and tell this story to the creatures there.

The Goodies: Martin’s our main boy, obviously. Felldoh the squirrel, a fellow slave-turned-warrior, is also a key player. Then we have the critters from Noonvale: Rose (full name Laterose) and her little brother Brome, both mice, plus her friend Grumm the mole. While Martin, Rose, and Grumm travel to Noonvale, they recruit the hedgehog Pallum. They also encounter a variety of beasties: a tribe of savage pygmy shrews, the lovely mole wife Polleekeen, a family of stuffy rabbits, and a rowdy horde of squirrels, plus of course the denizens of Noonvale, including Rose’s mom and dad. Back at Marshank, we’ve got a whole host of slaves, who later team up with a group of traveling performers, the Rambling Rosehip Players, whose most notable members are Ballaw the hare and Rowanoak the badger.

The Baddies: Two stoats ((two of them))! Badrang the Tyrant, former corsair, now the cruel and calculating ruler of Marshank, and Captain Tramun Clogg, his old sea-going partner. Each of them have their own little vermin swarm, among which the only individual really worth mentioning is Hisk the weasel, Badrang's head slavedriver and personal enemy of Felldoh.

The Freakies: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, it is time for...REDWALL HERPETOFAUNA. This demands an entire essay but for now I will just say we’ve got a whole mess of reptiles and amphibians crawling around these here Marshwood Hills.

The Birdies: The Warden of Marshwood Hill, a grey heron. AND. Boldred, the map-making short-eared owl, and her husband Hortwingle (a stay-at-home dad) and daughter Emalet. AND. A cute little dipper who Rose befriends in Marshwood Hill. Special shoutout to the various unnamed seabirds, particularly the one who steals that piece-of-shit baby shrew and tries feeding him to its hatchling.

Noteworthy Locations: All of this takes place in the northwestern region of the Known Redwall Universe, away from Mossflower Wood and the Western Sea. Most of the time, we’re at or around Badrang’s Fortress, which backs up to a stretch of coastal marshes that includes Marshwood Hill up to the north. Inland is a rich stretch of forest, including the idyllic Noonvale (which I high-key wish we’d revisit in later books), and a small mountain range/highland area.

Noteworthy Weapons: Martin the Warrior’s sword for sure. Or, I guess, his dad’s sword. For most of the book Martin’s using a pygmy shrew sword, which probably looks even more pathetic than I’ve been imagining.

Riddles: Just a little one...when Martin and friends ask Polleekeen for directions to Noonvale, she provides them with a short riddle.

Continuity Notes: This is a key story in the arc of Martin the Warrior (go figure, huh), and we also get some significant insight into Luke very early on. Apart from that, the only other scraps come from the pro- and epilogue: the storytelling takes place after Mariel of Redwall, with characters from that story. The travelers are descendants of Brome and Pallum. One of them brings Rose’s namesake from Noonvale: the seedling of a variety of late-blooming rose, which, once planted in spring, will become a characteristic component of Redwall’s appearance.

Other Notes: I believe this is the only book where rabbits make an appearance? I mean I straight-up forgot they ever made an appearance at all, that’s how rare they are. Additionally, the previous book I read (Brocktree), which takes place in a coastal terrain like this one, also features a grey heron and short-eared owl on its bird roster. The birds’ personalities are very different, though.

Tapir Takes:

(1) The B in Badger stands for Butch.

(2) I wrote down “Martin acting like the protag of an 80’s film” and I stand by it. If these were humans, he’d be the tanned youth with blue eyes and sandy-blond hair tousled by the sea wind. This vision came to me when he was rescuing that pygmy shrew nuisance from the seabirds. It also re-contextualized that earlier period of time when he first meets Rose, and he’s freaking head-over-heels, stuttering over his words, goo-goo-eyed and ga-ga-faced. Insufferable. Disney Channel Original Movie-type shit. Thank god it goes away after a couple chapters.

(3) Similarly, Rose acts like a damsel-in-distress more often than I'd expect? Ultimately yes I'd characterize her as a warrior first and a princess second, but there are still moments where she reacts to things in a distinctly feminine way (screams, passes out, paralyzed with terror), while her male companions do not.

(4) And then Martin will jump to her defense so fast!!! He is her freaking white knight. They'll all be laughing at a joke, but the moment it turns sour against Rose, Martin will intervene. And as a whole they are sooo codependent. Like when Martin was just hurling himself at the gates of Marshank and Rose was the only one able to pull him away (which I think she knew...the calmness she approached him with suggests a confidence in her own ability to get him to see reason.) She's always talking reason to him, but she herself will also do reckless things because of him, and ultimately gets herself killed running into battle alongside him. In many ways this is a really well-crafted tragedy. To me. It's also, in other ways, really freaking obnoxious (see point 2). To me.

(5) Returning to Gender for a moment. Overall, the girls in this book are a lot more finicky and shallow than they were in Brocktree. (These volumes were written nearly a decade apart, so perhaps that explains it.) I'm thinking primarily of Celandine the squirrel, secondarily of that whiny old mouse lady. For sure, there are just as many, if not more, grizzly girl warriors than there are damsels in distress, but Celandine's character still surprised me. And, like a lot of other things about this book, something about it feels a little corny, a little melodramatic, and pointedly one-dimensional in a jarring way.

(6) I can't wait to write about warriors in Redwall. This book is chock-full of characters, scenes, and quotes that illuminate the various facets of Redwall Warrior Culture. Stuff about the nature of a warrior's spirit, the inherent grief and tragedy of the warrior's destiny, the importance of nonviolence roles (while also emphasizing that such roles must coexist and cannot be substituted for one another.) Essay forthcoming, indeed.

(7) Martin definitely has some of the blandest Redwall villains. I remember Cloggs, and the double-assassination scene is always fresh in my mind, but I think that’s mostly from watching the TV show between my initial and present read of this book. It’s particularly upsetting to me because everyone in the book insists Badrang is pure evil, but there’s very little to demonstrate that evilness. He’s just a slave-owner, something most Redwall villains already are. I think the evilest thing we see him do is leave Martin out for the seabirds, but after that all he does is yell at his underlings and dish out insults. And besides that, he has no personality, especially compared to Cloggs.

(8) The frenemy angle between Badrang and Cloggs could’ve been so much more interesting than it was!!!! The crossed-wires assassination was cool and I wish we’d had more stuff like that!!!

(9) Druwp is a really interesting character. Really, really interesting. Tucking him away for later.

(10) I don’t like what Jacques does with his herpetofauna, and I don’t like how he does it two more times in this book, first with the pygmy shrews and then with the Gawtrybe. You know what I’m talking about. Essay forthcoming.

(11) The Marshwood Hill arc (?) did prove something important to me, though! Something I mentioned in my Brocktree post! Is it cannibalism to eat another talking animal, even if they're a different species? YES!!!!!! The denizens of Marshwood are called cannibals several times because they eat any travelers that come near their marsh. However, when the Warden eats them, it's treated differently. It's gross and perhaps excessively strict, but he is not called a cannibal, or considered to be stooping down to the frogs/lizards/snakes' level. Perhaps the definition of cannibalism excludes birds? When life closes an answer God opens a question. Wait that's not how that goes

(12) The end of this book always felt very sudden to me. I think that's equal parts an intentional choice on Jacques' part and an inevitable consequence of the tragedy genre. Still, I feel there should've somehow been more padding around Rose's death and the last few chapters.

(13) I mentioned the show earlier. So I’ll drop my Redwall TV Show Story here: I watched the show before I found the books. Loved the show. They adapted three Redwall books: the original, the direct sequel (Mattimeo), and this prequel. I actually own the original on DVD, somehow. At any rate, I watched religiously as they aired in chronological order on PBS, but then during a playdate with my neighbor, whose mom did not let her watch this show because it was “too violent” (pffffft baby) ((we were four)), I missed an episode early on in the third season and totally fell off the wagon! It haunts me to this day. I tried rewatching it when it was on Netflix, but I just couldn’t get into it. I might do so now, though. Just found out via the Redwall Wiki that they transed Pallum’s gender. A huge win for feminism.

OVERALL: I think I remember being not a huge fan of this book when I first read it. Well I hate to say it but I’m definitely not a huge fan now! It seems it had the makings of a good story, but the delivery fell somewhat short. Still, it had its moments <3

#redwall #martin the warrior #tapir literacy #tapir's redwall reread #long post

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cheat-grass-e4 · 2 years

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cheat grass 100% working CGN&

💾 ►►► DOWNLOAD FILE 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 Bromus tectorum, known as downy brome, drooping brome or cheatgrass, is a winter annual grass native to Europe, southwestern Asia, and northern Africa. Cheatgrass creates a vicious fire cycle. Cheatgrass roots grow when it is still cool outside, earlier in the spring than most native plants in. Cheatgrass (Bromus tectorum), also known as June Grass, Downy Brome or grass awn, is a potentially dangerous weed in many parts of North America. Bromus hordeaceus, soft brome, is annual or biennial species of grass in true grass. Bromus tectorum - cheatgrass, drooping brome. Cheatgrass is an annual grass, which means that each plant starts from a seed each year, grows to maturity, produces seed and dies. Researchers have found that. Visit our Colorado State Extension office for more news, tools and resources. Cheatgrass, also known as downy brome Bromus tectorum , originally from Eurasia, is rapidly becoming one of the biggest problem plants in the Western United States. It has already taken over large areas in the plains areas of the Front Range, and has destroyed millions of acres in the West. Once you learn to recognize it, it is easy to spot, even when traveling along the highway at 60 miles an hour. It is light green, with nodding seeds heads that wave in the slightest breeze, and forms thick-but- airy, shimmering clumps. As it matures, it changes to a purplish-brown color and then to a straw color. It dries out before most grasses do, which also helps in the identification. Cheatgrass is native to the Mediterranean region and Eurasia. It was first identified in the United States in the late s and by the early s cheatgrass was found in every western state. Cheatgrass is an annual grass, which means that each plant starts from a seed each year, grows to maturity, produces seed and dies. Researchers have found that the viable life of cheatgrass seeds is at least 5 years and a single plant under good growing conditions can produce several thousand seeds. These factors assure there will be seeds continuously available for germination if the soil moisture and temperature are suitable once cheatgrass occupies a site —which means control efforts must continue for that long. Once cheatgrass gets a strong foothold, it can easily take over a site, completely taking over native plants. But choking out native plants is not even the worst of it. It also dramatically changes the fire ecology of an area. Fire and cheatgrass conspire to build each other up and ultimately destroy the native ecosystem. With every new fire, cheatgrass takes over more and more acreage and can ignite with the first strike of lightning. And with each new crop of cheatgrass comes the certainty that successive fires will burn hotter and more often, converting still more areas into uniform carpets of cheatgrass. If you discover small patches on your property, you can keep them from taking over your yard by pulling them. Because it is an annual plant, pulling will get rid of it although you may have to keep watch for a few years to ensure there are no more seeds waiting in the soil. Cheat grass can be mowed or weed whacked, but be sure to do so before the seeds develop, or you will just spread the seeds. In Gilpin County, cheatgrass goes to seed in mid-June. Send an Email here to be added to our list: gilpinextension gmail. Colorado State University Extension. Online Directory. The CSU Extension in Gilpin County helps mountain residents improve their quality of life by offering a website, classes and programs that provide unbiased, research-based information on forestry, wildfire, wildlife, mountain gardening, noxious weeds and many other issues. Through our 4-H programs, we help youth develop life skills through leadership opportunities. Cheat Grass. CSU Extension With the millions of websites on the internet, it's hard to know who to trust for information. Colorado State University Extension can provide relief by offering reliable research-based information. We are part of a nation-wide system that uses the latest research to help residents learn more about gardening, sustainable living, healthy eating, youth development, fraud prevention, and much more. Our job is to bring these resources directly to you. Gilpin County Extension Email list Send an Email here to be added to our list: gilpinextension gmail. See guidelines and appointment information here.

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cheat-grass-7y · 2 years

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cheat grass work QI4!

💾 ►►► DOWNLOAD FILE 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 Bromus tectorum, known as downy brome, drooping brome or cheatgrass, is a winter annual grass native to Europe, southwestern Asia, and northern Africa. Cheatgrass creates a vicious fire cycle. Cheatgrass roots grow when it is still cool outside, earlier in the spring than most native plants in. Cheatgrass (Bromus tectorum), also known as June Grass, Downy Brome or grass awn, is a potentially dangerous weed in many parts of North America. Bromus hordeaceus, soft brome, is annual or biennial species of grass in true grass. Bromus tectorum - cheatgrass, drooping brome. Cheatgrass is an annual grass, which means that each plant starts from a seed each year, grows to maturity, produces seed and dies. Researchers have found that. Description Bloom varies by elevation What to Do When? Invades Undisturbed Land State Class First grass to appear; short and soft; dropping seed head; quickly turns a light red-brown; seeds stick in socks; pervasive. Bright yellowish-green seed-heads form in early spring then open and turn light red-brown. New sprouts grow until snow-fall. Early in season, mow or weed-whack large patches of seedlings before "bloom", and hoe or hand-pull small patches. Bag-up hand-pulled plants if the seed-heads are open. As early as possible, then through summer and fall. Yes - making it one of the most invasive weeds in the West. Not listed; too pervasive. General Description Cheatgrass is probably the most common plant in the Columbia Basin, and it's one of the most widespread invasive non-native grasses in North America. It can grow almost anywhere, but prefers dry roadsides, pastures, rangeland and any disturbed soil, though it can sprout in undisturbed soil. It is an aggressive invader of our native bunchgrass and bitterbrush shrub-steppe habitat, but is also found among Ponderosa pines and Douglas fir. Stems are usually single-stalked and anywhere from 4"" tall. The top of the stem has several sets of seed-heads, which are compact and erect at first and then droop or nod, creating a soft, flat appearance from a distance. Seeds easily stick to and through shoes and socks, poking the walker. Awns can burrow into animal skin and dog ears , causing pain and often a trip to the vet. Leaf sheaths and blades are densely covered with soft hair. Roots are short and branching, and usually quite shallow. Plant turns a dull red-purple color as it matures and tan-buff when dried. Life-Cycle Cheatgrass has a very short life cycle and is a prolific seed producer. It is a "winter annual," meaning it usually germinates in the fall and sprouts in the winter often under snow and as soon as ground is snow-free in the spring. Plants die after seeding; plants that sprout early in spring are normally dead by mid-summer. Cheatgrass may also sprout in the fall, flower, and set seed before winter. Cheatgrass seeds generally germinate when conditions are favorable, but can remain dormant in soil for several years. Why is Cheatgrass a Problem? Cheatgrass grows and matures earlier than any other plant in the shrub-steppe, stealing water from the top foot of soil and usually dying before the hottest and driest part of summer. This gives it an advantage over native grasses and other plants. Cheatgrass makes great fuel for wildfire because it is usually dead and dry by mid summer and burns easily and quickly. Research shows that where cheatgrass is abundant wildfires occur earlier and more often, damaging or killing native shrubs that take longer to grow back. Cheatgrass seeds in the soil take advantage of the nutrients fires release to grow large and produce abundant seed over a thousand per plant in some cases. The season after a fire, cheatgrass quickly colonizes bare ground, making it more difficult for native plant species to recover. Efforts should focus on reducing cheatgrass dominance and increasing perennial vegetation. To reduce the invasion of cheatgrass and other weeds , always avoid disturbing soil. Take care not to bring in seeds on your clothes, shoes, pets or gear. Burning will not control a cheatgrass infestation, and can in fact worsen it. Hand-Pull On small or sporadic patches of cheatgrass, hand-pulling can be easy and effective, as long as it is done while seeds are still on the plant. Bag-up the plants and throw in the trash. Even non-open seed-heads or flowers can germinate. Some stock animals will browse young cheatgrass. There is potential for biological control with naturally occurring soil-borne organisms, but this is not yet available. Chemical Non-selective" herbicides like Roundup will kill cheatgrass but they will also kill any other plant nearby too, and in large areas, is not cost-effective. Interesting Tidbits The presence of "cryptobiotic crust" - living, biological soil on thesurface of pristine shrub-steppe land - can prevent cheatgrass from germinating. One home brewer in Nevada has started make Cheatgrass Beer! First grass to appear; short and soft; dropping seed head; quickly turns a light red-brown; seeds stick in socks; pervasive.

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cheat-grass-mg · 2 years

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cheat grass work XAC&

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makedata · 5 years

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Coucher de soleil ! by madoroy01 //

#Landscapes #photography #photo #professional #nikon #canon #Winter 2019 #sunset #Lac-Brome Qc

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incorrectredwallquotes · 2 years

Conversation

Brome: We dream of summertime in the winter. We yearn for winter in the summer. What fatal flaw has God injected into the human psyche? Why must we always strive for the things furthest from us?

Felldoh: Are you okay?

Brome: My feet are cold as heck, dude.

#Redwall #martin the warrior #Felldoh #brome #brian jacques

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antoine-roquentin · 4 years

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In reality, Devil Grass is actually Bromus, a tribe of invasive and almost ineradicable grasses bearing appropriately unsavory names such as ripgut brome, cheat grass, and false brome. Originating in the Mediterranean and the Middle East, some species have been around California since the Gold Rush, when overgrazing allowed the bromes and European oat grass to aggressively replace native species. But now fire and exurban sprawl have become their metamorphizers as they colonize and degrade ecosystems throughout the state....

A research group at Oregon State’s College of Forestry that is studying grass invasions in West Coast forests, a hitherto neglected subject, warned earlier this year that once the feedback loop with fire is firmly established, it becomes a “perfect storm.” Like Weemer’s Devil Grass, the invaders defy human will. “Management actions such as thinning and prescribed fire, often designed to alleviate threats to wildfires, may also exacerbate grass invasion and increase fine fuels, with potential landscape scale consequences that are largely under-recognized.” Only a constant sustained effort to remove grass biomass—something that would require a large army of full-time forest workers and the full cooperation of landowners—could theoretically postpone the weed apocalypse.

It would also require a moratorium on new construction, as well as post-fire rebuilding in endangered woodlands. A majority of new housing in California over the last 20 years has been built, profitably but insanely, in high-fire-risk areas. “Exurbanization,” much of it white flight from California’s human diversity, everywhere promotes the botanical counter-revolution. But residents usually don’t see the grass for the forest.

How should we think about what is happening? In the late 1940s the ruins of Berlin became a laboratory where natural scientists studied plant succession in the wake of three years of firebombing. Their expectation was that the original vegetation of the region—oak woodlands and their shrubs—would soon reestablish itself. To their horror this was not the case. Instead escaped exotics, some of them rare garden plants, established themselves as the new dominants.

The botanists continued their studies until the last bomb sites were cleared in the 1980s. The persistence of this dead-zone vegetation and the failure of the plants of the Pomeranian woodlands to reestablish themselves prompted a debate about ‘Nature II.’ The contention was that the extreme heat of incendiaries and the pulverization of brick structures had created a new soil type that invited colonization by rugged plants such as “tree of heaven” (Ailanthus) that had evolved on the moraines of Pleistocene ice sheets. An all-out nuclear war, they warned, might reproduce these conditions on a vast scale. (For more about this, see my book Dead Cities.)

Fire in the Anthropocene has become the physical equivalent of nuclear war. In the aftermath of Victoria’s Black Saturday fires in early 2009, Australian scientists calculated that their released energy equaled the explosion of 1,500 Hiroshima-sized bombs. Even greater energy has produced the pyrocumulus plumes that for weeks have towered over Northern California. The toxic orange fog that has shrouded the Bay Area for weeks is our regional version of nuclear winter.

A new, profoundly sinister nature is rapidly emerging from our fire rubble at the expense of landscapes we once considered sacred. Our imaginations can barely encompass the speed or scale of the catastrophe.

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freckles-and-jalapeno · 4 years

Text

First Snow

Word count: about 5K 🎧: this Originally I posted it on AO3 in 2 languages, English and Russian. Check it out if you'd like! Other than that, I hope u enjoy! 🌟

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First snow...

No, we’re not talking about that pathetic, grey, mashed potato-like mud that makes your socks wet. It’s not those soggy pieces of cold white cotton wool, blown into the folds of your scarf by the wind. And it’s not that icy-cold frost that bites into your cheeks and ears, ruffles your hair and pierces the layers of your coat and sweaters. It’s that warm, pure December snow that quietly falls from the sky in soft flakes.

- What fine weekend weather we‘re having today! - happily said Tonks as she was crunching on her cheese toast. - Last week, you said exactly the same thing about the snowstorm - remarked Talbott, briefly looking up from his book "Transfiguration Tips for Young Wizards and Witches".

"What’s wrong with enjoying life?" Tonks would have answered, but since her mouth was still full of food, she only managed “Fffoosss wwonkk ittph eehooaaifff?”

Indeed, everyone at Hogwarts was in high spirits: the winter holidays were in full swing, half of the tables in the Great Hall were removed to accommodate beautiful Christmas trees, and students from different houses were allowed to sit together. Y/N, Tulip and Bill were the first ones to arrive for breakfast and attack the apple oatmeal; then Talbott and Tonks joined them. The air was full of joyful hubbub: the owls, who already delivered their morning parcels, were hooting and flapping their wings; students were rattling with their spoons and cups or loudly discussing the latest gossip from The Daily Prophet . And yet, there was one man in the castle who did not share the common joy.

Charlie has entered the Great Hall and tragically plopped down next to Tonks. - It’s a nightmare. I asked Francesca Wayne out on a date, and she agreed. - And... isn't that good news? - Bill gestured with his spoon of oatmeal towards his brother. Coincidentally, some oatmeal flew off the spoon, soared over the table and sludged right onto Barnaby’s shoulder.

- Her agreeing to go on a date with me was good. - Charlie said. - We were strolling around Hogsmeade, and everything was swell until some fifth-year Slytherin student unexpectedly jinxed me with the Tarantallegra charm. I began to tap-dance like a madman!.. And then it got worse. I was still dancing by the time Fitwick showed up. He did cast a counter-spell, but.. - Charlie covered his face with hands, and now was talking through his fingers. - ...by that time I had already managed to plummet into some mud nearby… I suspect it was porlock’s dung. It smelled all the same. Basically, I looked like a complete idiot ... oh, crickey!

Just at this moment they noticed a group of cute Hufflepuff girls passing by. For some mysterious reason, all girls had their hair gathered in a neat, long ponytail. The tallest gal from the gang stopped and waved in their direction.

- Hee-hee! Hiiiii Charlie! .. How are your legs doing today? ..

The feeling of shame caused Charlie’s face to take on a shade of beet.

- This is officially it. I quit girls. From now on, I will become a druid, go somewhere like Egypt and will only be dealing with dragons.

- Oh come on, Charlie! Don’t mind Francesca! - Y/N reassuringly patted her friend on the arm. - You know, I often see her in Potions class: she hides behind a cauldron and picks her nose, thinking that no one can see her.

- So true, - Tulip signed with her brows. - I bet she’s eating her boogers, too!

The whole company burst into loud laughter.

- But seriously though, - continued Tonks. - Let's forget everything about these bloody incidents and celebrate the weekend properly! Let's visit Hogsmeade, buy some butterbeer….

- Take a look at Zonko’s! ..

- Blimey, how could we forget about Zonkos’ for a split second?..

- Actually, this might be a good idea. I do need a new moke leather bag...

- I”ll get some sugar quills! ..

And so they agreed.

* * *

After shoving themselves into warm sweaters, hats, and mittens, they headed out of the Courtyard together. Bill, Charlie, and Tulip were walking in front, followed by Talbott, Y/N and Tonks. The group chatted about the upcoming semester and wondered which subject will have them writing most essays. Shortly thereafter, they met Professor Snape, grouchily making his way back to the castle, and they started proposing different versions of why he wasn’t around much these days and what mysterious business he was up to. Finally, they had an argument about what kind of festive pudding the elves would be making for the last day of holidays. Talbott betted galleons to Fizzing Whizzbees that the pudding will have strawberry flavor, Y/N voted for lemon, and Tonks - for cherry.

The road was gradually getting covered in white. Snow was sneaking into their boots, and the wind was merrily propelling them forward.

Suddenly, when friends were walking past a small brome grass field (now frozen and covered in snowdrifts), a large snowball glided through the air, furiously whistling all the while. It crashed directly into Tulip’s hood and majestically exploded with snowflake glitter.

- What the %#!*i9&! - angrily cursed the Ravenclaw as she turned around in search of the culprit.

Tonks was standing a little further away, now mockingly tossing another snowball up and down.

- Haha. One-zero, Karasu. C’mon you guys, we can't just walk away from this much snow.

Tulip shook her head to get the snow out her hair.

- Well, you're doomed, you little pink-haired witch! - she yelled and lunged herself at Tonks.

- Look at yourself, you tomato head! - metamorphine shouted in response and dashed away from her friend, laughing uncontrollably.

Unable to resist such good fun, the rest joined the battle, which was about to become the greatest strategic snowball battle in the history of Hogwarts.

They split into 2 teams. While one of his teammates was distracting the others, Talbott would conjure gigantic snowballs and avalanche them onto the heads of enemies via Wingardium Leviosa. Meanwhile, Tulip sneaked up on Charlie using a disillusionment charm; she grabbed his red hair and dipped him into a snowdrift right up to his neck. Bill, suddenly filled with brotherly instinct, jumped in front of Y/N and covered her from a charge of Tonks’ snowballs with his body. This sacrifice, however, turned out to be utterly useless, as the very next moment Charlie doubled the snow artillery in her direction; so much so that he knocked Y/N’s cap off.

At last, they tumbled in Madam Rosmerta's pub as one noisy lump of fun and laughter: cold, wobbly and covered with snow, but lively and carefree nonetheless.

- A table for six, please! - Tonks demanded in a jolly voice.

- For six? M’dears… - a low pitched, cackle-like noise came from a table at the very door.

It was professor Trelawney who tremulously perked up from underneath her thousand and one sherry-scented shawls.

- I think I heard I ... saw that you wanted a table for six? But did you know, m’dears, that the ancient scroll of prophecy specifically says NOT to sit down at a table on the sixth day of lunar December, if you are a group of six? The last one to sit down will lose a friend on the very same night ...

The group of friends exchanged puzzled glances. Of course, no one believed in Trelawney's predictions, but it was still very uncomfortable to hear things like that.

- Here, please. - Madam Rosmerta appeared in front of them before anyone had the time to reply to the terrible omen. She led the group up to a cozy table next to the fireplace.

- Blimey! What rubbish this old blind cat is saying this time? - Tonks hissed.

- Nonsense, like the usual. Every tea leaf class she’s now predicting a painful and a horrible death for just about everybody. Woo-o-o-o! Some dark forces are hovering over Hogwarts… - Y/N mimicked professor Trelawney’s voice and gestures. - But when aren’t they?

- Right. - nodded Talbott. - Besides, no one has died so far.

- Uh .. Well, who wants to sit down last? - Charlie asked hesitatingly.

- I’ll go! - volunteered Y/N.

- Suit yourself. - shrugged Charlie and hastily sat down.

- You don't believe those silly predictions, do you, Charlie? - Tulip settled down on a nearby chair. - Take a look, there are so many people around here sitting in groups of six. This doesn’t mean they will all lose a friend overnight ...

- Numerologically speaking, it is simply impossible, - added Bill and sat down, too.

Tonks sat down next to Bill. Talbott thoughtfully gazed at Y/N for a moment, and then he silently joined the others. Y/N was the last one to sit.

Without listening to friends’ endless squabble about Trelawney's competence, she stretched her legs towards fire, feeling blissfully warm and tired. Today was such a good day. And Madam Rosmerta is about to bring butterbeer for everybody! ..

- While we’re here, - Tulip cleaned her throat, - we need to make sure that there is enough of the wonderful drink for each one of us.

She took out her wand and pointed it at the glasses with beer.

- Engorgio!

The glasses had grown twice in size. They weren’t glasses anymore, really - they were jugs.

Bill raised his jug in the air:

- Let's drink to friendship! - To loyalty! - To honesty! - To dung bombs! - To holidays! - To Hogwarts!

Comfortably nestled at The Three Broomsticks, friends were clinking their glasses and drinking, and then some more, and a little bit more. At last, when everyone started to feel the soothing and flushing effects of the caramel liquid, Tulip grabbed a pack of Self-Shuffling playing cards from her coat.

- Alright, friends. How about we play some truth or dare? - she suggested.

- Since when does truth or dare require cards? - argued Charlie.

- Since today, you silly redhead. Highest card gets to ask. Lowest card gets to answer. I'll start, you chickens... Y/N, take one card, too.

Y/N stretched her hand forward and caught a card that jumped out of the deck. One moment later, the two girls smashed their cards onto the table. Charlie declared:

-Three of feathers and a phoenix. Hey, Tulip wins!

Tulip let out a wide mischievous grin.

- Y/N, tell us the truth then. Marry, flip, kill: Penny, Merula, Charlie.

Bill and Tonks immediately started to giggle and nudge each other with their elbows. Talbott and Charlie, on the other hand, straightened up in their chairs, leaned forward and stared at Y/N solemnly, without blinking.

After some thinking, Y/N tilted her head to one side and replied:

- Okay, I think I got it. I’d marry ... Charlie.

Tonks let out a loud whistle.

- I ... Uuhhh thanks I guess? - responded Charlie, blushing furiously.

- I would flip ... Merula. - continued Y/N.

- You mean you’d flip the greatest witch at Hogwarts? Ha-ha, that’s an interesting choice. - Tulip mightily slapped Y/N on the shoulder.

- Wow Tulip. - Talbott gingerly proceeded to remove Tulip’s hand from Y/N’s shoulder. - You pronounce “horrifying” differently than I do.

- Wait, so this means that you kill ... Penny? - Bill's jaw dropped in astonishment.

-Don’t get me wrong ... - explained Y/N. - She’s nice and all, but sometimes I get this feeling that she’s following me everywhere… and I mean everywhere. So yeah.

- Poor Penny. The sun-like creature who is always happy to see you. - Talbott chuckled. - And now, she has to DIE.

Their table shook from the loud cackling.

Brilliant! - Tulip clapped her hands. - The first round is over. Y/N, you won, now you get to choose who draws cards next..

Y/N chose Bill and Tonks.

- 7 of wands and 9 of stars! That was a close one, Bill. - Tonks’ face glowed up and her hair turned raspberry color. - So here is your dare, William...

- Oh no, no, no ... - Bill grabbed his red hair and started to crumple them.

- Don’t fret, dear Bill! I like you, so I will provide you with options... You can either ask Ismelda for a kiss or... you can kiss a garden gnome’s tummy!

Y/N and Talbott simultaneously snorted into their butterbeer glasses, almost choking on the drink. Bill, on the other hand, looked like someone had just asked him to drink a cup of newt’s goo.

- What bloody hell is this, Tonks ?? - he howled from annoyance and smashed his fists on the table. - There are NO gnomes in here!

- Most certainly there are. - Tonks replied calmly. - Take a peak at that table in the corner.

The table in the corner was taken up by Hagrid. He was quietly cooing with a small potato-like creature he had brought to the pub - apparently in secret from Rosmerta. At this very moment, he was feeding colorful Bertie Botts beans to the gnome.

- Merlin's saint underwear! - Y/N whispered reverently - It looks like Hagrid knitted a suit for him ...

And surely so, if one was to look closely, the gnome was dressed in a blue sweater and coarse-knit socks that were almost reaching the creature's thighs (if garden gnomes have thighs, of course). By some unknown coincidence, the gnome had no pants at all.

Bill looked at Tonks with the most touching expression Y/N had ever seen in his eyes.

- Can we play without the kisses?

- Hey, come on. I'm not asking you to kiss a Dementor, aren’t I? - Tonks just laughed in response.

(read here if you want Bill to kiss Ismelda)

I can't believe I'm doing this. - Bill shook his head. - I'll go out there and ask Ismelda for a kiss.

Charlie delightfully roared "Hallelujah!" and let a few green sparks out of the end of his wand. Tulip, Y/N and Tonks began to synchronously thump on the table and whisper: “Smooch! Smooch! Smooch! Smooch!”... Talbott threw his hands behind his head and settled himself more comfortably on the bench, getting ready for the spectacle.

... As a prisoner goes to be executed on a guillotine, that is how Bill Weasley was approaching Ismelda. The Slytherin gal was chatting with her fellow students at the bar.

- Check it out, it looks like she noticed him ... - Tulip started to comment on the action. - He’s telling her something ... great, they have contact! Come on, come on ....

- I almost feel sorry for him now - announced Charlie.

- Never let me forget this, ok? - Talbott smiled lazily.

Nobody else had the time to add anything because in the next second, the pub was filled with Ismelda’s shrilly wails, immediately followed by the ones of Bill. The girl, as one might expect, went absolutely berserk at Bill’s proposal and wacked him in the eye with all her mighty strength.

- Left hook! Fa-la-la…. A punch to the stomach! Fa-la-la ... And our hero returns ho-o- ome! .. - friends began chanting Bill's name merrily, with no tune or tempo whatsoever, which attracted even more attention to the oldest Weasley.

- Somebody please tell me why I became friends with a bunch of brainless doxies.. - Bill muttered under his breath as he was sitting down. He tried to say it with the most serious expression there is, but all the while his lips were quivering from a suppressed smile.

(read here if you want Bill to kiss the gnome)

- I can't believe I'm doing this. - Bill shook his head. - I choose to kiss Hagrid’s gnome.

- On the tummy! - abruptly corrected him Tonks. - Otherwise, you'll have to redo the dare!

- His tummy looks like pumice, did you know that? It’s crusty and hard and got some weird flakes falling off of it… And it smells just like my Great Aunt Tessie’s feet! - Bill exclaimed in anger.

- Stop whining! Just go already. While we sit here and enjoy ... - one could hear pure delight in Charlie’s voice as he was (for once) telling his older brother off.

Bill let out a sad sigh, got up from the table and started to make his way towards Hagrid. Apparently, the giant was not very happy to see him - the garden gnome would be considered quite a contraband for Madam Rosmerta, and she could forever ban Hagrid from The Three Broomsticks.

- Crickey, it's starting now! - excitedly squeaked Tulip.

The company stared at the show unfolding in front of them without blinking.

- Ah, it seems that the birds started chirping, can you hear? - Talbott said quietly.

- Fountains are sparkling, little hearts are flying in the air! - continued Y/N.

- Oh gosh, oh look! Oh, he’s kissing him!

As a matter of fact, it seemed like the angels themselves started crooning the moment Bill's lips softly touched the gnome’s belly button.

The friends doubled over with mirth. Tonks laughed so hard that butterbeer and snot started spewing from her nose.

But the gnome, as it occurred, did not like being distracted from his bean feast at all. The creature got even more upset as all the boundaries of his personal space were violated, and probably that’s why he suddenly growled and bit Bill’s nose. "Crunch!" - the sound echoed throughout the pub. Bill angrily yowled and burst out in obscenities. Now all the eyes in the pub were watching in his direction only.

- Yeh… What are yeh doing?! Stahp scaring the baby ... - Hagrid said gruffly and hid the gnome in his pocket. - Go back to yer’ friends, now, or he’ll start molting from stress .. And tis’ the worst, you know ...

Bill returned to their table, still rubbing his swollen nose in frustration.

- Oh, hey, Father Christmas! Did you bring us any gifts? - Charlie mused.

- I brought you a whipping, reptiloids... - Bill replied with the most serious face he could make, but his lips were quivering from a barely suppressed smile.

* * *

It was getting dark. While the group of friends was drinking and enjoying themselves at the pub, Hogsmeade was slowly being enveloped by velvet darkness. One after the other, the stars were lighting up. Here and there, windows of little shops and huts were blossoming in shades of orange. The garlands and wreaths, untouched after the holidays, were glittering with frost. Now there was cheerful music emerging from Madame Rosmerta's pub - those were the local musicians. They were playing flute, lute and tambone. One of the guests, who had a pig's snout instead of a nose, joined the musicians and started to grunt and beat on the drum. Many visitors picked up this joyous tune and began clapping and tapping to the beat - slowly at first, then faster and louder. One of the guests - a bubbly witch dressed in a lilac robe and a pointed hat - jumped from her chair, knocking over a mug of fiery whiskey, and began to dubstep dashingly with a goblin in a tweed jacket.

- Wowza, it's getting hot in here, - Bill said, wiping his beer mustache away. - Let's have the last round and head back. Talbott and Charlie, now it's your turn.

- My pleasure, - replied Talbott and drew a card.

Charlie drew a card with a higher suit.

- A perfect ending for a perfect day! As you can see, I'm a man of many talents, not only Quidditch. - Charlie boasted and gracefully ran his hand through his hair.

- Uh, yeah, except that quidditch sucks, - Talbott raised his eyebrows.

- You suck! - Charlie blurted.

- Mmm ... not as much as quidditch. - smirked Ravenclaw in response.

The young Weasley's cheeks turned so red that one could easily fry eggs on them if they wanted.

- Fine. Okay. If you do hate quidditch that much, maybe you’d care more for dancing? I dare you, Talbott Winger, to go out there and have the best time of your life on the dancefloor - yes, IN FRONT of the musicians! But of course I can’t let you suffer alone - sarcastically added Charlie. - Go ahead and invite someone to dance with you… if they agree to dance with a haircut like yours, that is.

Talbott squinted his eyes and examined Charlie’s face in disbelief.

- Uhhh ... I look cool.

- Pffft. Whatever you say. - the redhead let out a cheesy grin.

- I say I look cool. - Talbott replied calmly.

Tulip and Tonks audibly snorted.

- Now then… Who will be the lucky one to have the ultimate all-inclusive Talbott Winger experience? - asked Bill and started to tap his fingers on the table. The rest of the group picked on this beat and joined Bill, making the sound be a very accurate drum roll.

- Hmmm ... I know just who to take on this adventure. Y/N... would you like to dance with me? - asked Talbott and offered her a hand - I promise not to step on your toes more than three times.

- Oh? I thought you “fly solo”... - teased him Y/N as she was taking his hand and getting up from the table.

Talbott didn’t answer, just sighed and rolled his eyes at her.

The two entered the dance floor in an uncertain and shy manner. A new festive holiday song was just beginning. Another vocalist stepped onto the stage, bowed, and dimmed the pub lights with Nox . He then casually flicked his wand, created a few golden and silver wandering pellets of light, and then sent them floating around the pub. Soon, the music began to play, and the vocalist started singing in a heart-warming voice:

Last Christmas, I gave you my Hippogriff,

But the very next day, you gave it away...

Y/N felt that the majority of gazes were directed at her and Talbott - not at the singing wizard. What a strange feeling - to be in the spotlight. It got very hot; she felt a few sweat drops form and slide down her forehead. Talbott looked at Y/N with a weird expression on his face. He seemed to be slightly uncomfortable, too. Without changing his bewildered expression, he took Y/N's hands and placed them on his shoulders, then dropped his hands on her waist.

- Talbott ... I hope you know what you’re doing? - Y/N inquired quietly.

- What kind of question is this, of course I don’t know what I’m doing. - said Talbott with feigned confidence.

- Now I get it. You're winging it, Winger!

Both dancers burst out laughing. The tension was released. They began to move, jump and spin to the beat of the music. And even Merula's screams about how they looked like two prancing warty frogs could not spoil their mood. Maybe they weren't professionals and had no idea what they were doing, but they were having a lot of fun together.

The song ended. To Y/N’s great surprise, there was an applause from the audience! Someone from the crowd even threw them a bright, fragrant bouquet of orchids, freshly conjured from the air.

- For the record, I hate dancing. But it wasn’t all that horrible with you around. - Talbott said bashfully. - Maybe I should have gathered my courage and should have gone to the Celestial ... you know ...

Talbott and Y/N returned to the table, slightly out of breath after the dance and still holding hands. “Two brooos !! chilling at the Three Broomsticks! Five feet apart ‘cause they’re not friends!” - the others hollered and cheered and greeted the two back.

- Will you just shut up?.. - chuckled Y/N as she was letting Talbott's warm hand go.

* * *

It was time to return back to the castle. Friends were getting dressed in silence. All their wet clothes had almost dried up by the fire, and for those pieces that weren’t dry yet, they used their wands. Before leaving the pub, Y/N gave the bouquet to Madam Rosmerta. At the very exit, Trelawney's warnings came back to Y/N. It was so scary to think that on this night, according to the prophecy, she would lose a friend, and so she chased those thoughts away. As soon as the group stepped outside, contrast between the warm pub and icy cold air made them cough. Sniffing and cursing from freezing weather, they rushed towards Hogwarts down the snow-cleared path. This night was especially quiet: there was only the sound of snow creaking under their feet, and from time to time there came a bird’s distant cry.

- Bloody hell, we never bought anything, - Charlie complained in annoyance.

- Well… Let it burn, then. It will just be added to that list of four hundred things I have to do tomorrow ... or the day after ... or after.. or after .... - Tonks answered him with a loud yawn.

Friends were already approaching the doors of the castle when Talbott deliberately started to slow down. He stopped right in front of a path fork that was turning off the main road and leading to the owlery.

- Ummm... I need to send a letter to someone, - he said shyly, milling about the path. - Care to join me, Y/N?

“Hmm .. that’s a strange request, it’s practically nighttime... Something is fishy (pardon me, birdy) here.” - Y/N thought in her head, but out loud she only said:

- Uhh .. okay, sure. Let’s go.

After all, Talbott was her friend, and she had no reason to mistrust him.

The group of friends said their goodbyes and parted ways. Talbott and Y/N turned to the owlery. Tulip was waving at them a very long time after that, until their silhouettes blurred out, enclosed by the veil of snow.

Several minutes had passed since Talbott and Y/N were alone together. They were strolling down the path and talking about all sorts of things that happened during the past few days. The two of them were approaching the little towers of the Owlery rather quickly, and now only a small meadow was separating them from a brick staircase leading upstairs. In the summertime, the meadow was blooming with daisies and dandelions and was serving as a perfect playground for Puffskeins and Knarls. But now, the meadow seemed to have stopped in time: bare bushes were the only thing that was left from thick flowering plants; icy ground was tightly intertwined with fallen grass and wrapped in snowdrifts. Here and there, towered a few cedar pines, spruces, and chestnuts, but now they all were covered with white snow dust. For some reason, Talbott stopped walking towards the Owlery when they reached this meadow, and he began searching for something in his pockets. Finally, judging by the way his face lit up, he found what he was looking for. Aloof animagus beckoned Y/N closer. He was clutching something in his fist. As soon as Y/N approached, he opened his hand; there were two small luminous grains lying on his palm.

- What are these, Talbott? - said Y/N in quiet astonishment.

- These are midnight mint seeds, - he replied. - Professor Sprout gave them to me this Christmas.

- I have never heard of them…

- These are very rare. They can only be harvested once a year from underneath ash flowers. In places where you plant them, blood will never be shed again. - Talbott remarked in a lowered voice.

Y/N couldn’t stop staring at the grains. They seemed alive.

- Don't be afraid, touch them.

Y/N carefully raised her hand above the luminous grains and covered them with it.

- They’re warm! - not expecting that, Y/N let out a smile from ear to ear.

Talbott nodded. He looked straight into her eyes.

- I kept looking for an opportunity to plant them. Today seemed very special to me, and I decided to do it now. With you. If you want to.

- I ... of course I do! - Y/N’s cheeks and neck were rapidly getting covered with blush. - But aren't seeds planted in the fall?

- Not these. These should be planted in winter. They can only be planted under snow.

Y/N and Talbott knelt down and started preparing the soil for the seeds. They dug up a sufficient amount of snow, and then carefully placed glowing grains onto dead grass. They covered them with several layers of grey leaves and twigs, and then put a dense snow blanket above it all. But even through all these layers, the magic light of the seeds was shining through. Moreover, it seemed to have intensified and was now pulsating. For a brief instant, the pulsation stopped, and little blue stars began to emerge from under the snow, where the seeds were planted - similar to mini-fireworks. The stars took off and fell, crumbling and shattering into smaller pieces and dust. But the most spectacular thing that two friends were now hearing was... singing. It was a wonderful, calm and solemn melody without words. It was sung by the grains! Y/N had never heard such music before; she felt how her heart was opening up because of this melody. If someone had looked out of the Owlery window at that moment, then through the veil of a starting blizzard, they would have only distinguished a soft blue light illuminating two young faces floating above it.

The singing ceased; the blue light also faded away. Friends were silent for a minute, as if they were afraid to destroy the soothing feeling that the magical grains have produced within them. Finally, Talbott said in a hushed voice :

- You know, I didn’t actually need to send any letters. I just wanted to spend some time with you but without those dorks. So ... Thank you for being here with me.

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he was smiling softly at Y/N.

- It was my pleasure, - she answered quietly.

Talbott rose and brushed the snow off his knees. He then reached out his palms towards Y/N to help her get up, but he did not let go of them after that.

- There was something else. Care for one more dance with me?

For the second time during that evening, Y/N and Talbott were dancing together. But this time it was so much different than it was in the pub!! Instead of all the noise and din of The Three Broomsticks, soft spruce paws were playing them a silent symphony of winter. It was a melody of silence, a melody of bright joy, a melody of snowflakes and wind. This melody cannot be heard unless one would actively try to listen to it. The snow was falling inaudibly. It was cascading from the sky in large flakes, performing a couple of waltz motions with the dancers, and then laying down on the ground and sparkling merrily under their feet. These instants were filled with a sense of miracle: without any magic or magic wands.

- You know, dancing like this is so much better than having to dance while hundreds of thousands of eyes are staring at you. - Y/N noted.

- Agreed.

Gradually, without noticing it themselves, two friends stopped dancing. They were now standing across each other, looking at individual snowflakes on their faces and hair. Every now and then, several small crystals would shiver and gravitate down, but they would never reach the ground as they would melt in a cloud of frosty haze from their mouths. It was very quiet now. Soft light was being reflected from snow and onto their cheeks, flushed from the cold.

- We might freeze this way. - said Talbot, slightly smiling.

Slowly and gently, he unwound his blue and silver scarf and wrapped it around his own neck first, and then around Y/N's neck; now their heads were even closer to each other, connected by knitted threads. Y/N could see his face much more clearly now. She could see glitter in his brown eyes, his every eye lash, every mole, she could smell the herbal scent of his shampoo ... she could even feel the warmth of his breath.

- What I actually wanted to tell you, Y/N, - Talbott said softly, - is that the longer I think about it, the more it seems to me that professor Trelawney was right about her prophecy.

- H-how do you mean? - stuttered Y/N.

- You’re about to lose a friend because I don't think ... I don't think that I can stay friends with you any longer ... I want to be much more than that, - Talbott whispered and leaned over toward Y/N's lips and kissed her.

It was a light, subtle kiss, but Y/N could clearly feel the warmth gently spreading among her skin. And then, another kiss followed … and one more ... and one more.

All the while, the snow was falling - soundlessly, tirelessly, tenderly.

* * *

Much later, after going back to her dorm in the Gryffindor Tower, Y/N had been sitting on a windowsill for a very, very long time. She was looking through a window, wreathed by frost: at the icy lake, at never-ending fields, covered with silver and at the...

First snow.

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