#artificial pollination

[purcydoodles]

Very heavy on the "animal deprived plague" coz one of the families in the human civilization had a robotic pet dog. Not even a real one, a robotic one!

One of the things I loved about The Wild Robot from a writing/world-building perspective was that it was clearly set in a post-apocalyptic world, but the details were very vague, and you don't even know until about an hour in:

"Beautiful shot," you think, and then it hits you that the whales are swimming over the Golden Gate Bridge.

Abandoned, crumbling satellites and a sunken city. And then when we do see the human city, they freak out at the sight of geese:

Animal-derived plague? Global warming? We don't know. We only know that something has happened. But like the general theme, whatever bad has occurred, the natural world is thriving. An unexpected positive from a history of tragedy.

[crevicedwelling]

hello! i am a relatively new user here on tumblr, less than a year, and i have heard a comment or two about a 'wasp discourse' that happened here, that wasps are much more nice than bees or something among those lines

this caught my curiosity as im writting a wasp based character whos just an ahole as i did it on what i knew abt them from general internet and im stuck on wether i should maaayybe change them up a bit

if its not too much to ask do you happen to know a bit abt this discourse? or have a link to it? or if not to the discourse itself some other link that elaborates abt the same topic? perhaps even someone else i can ask this?

thank you very much!

to start off, there are a lot of bees and wasps in this world and it is not easy to generalize about them. there are ~20,000 bee species, and the vast majority of these are solitary bees that nest in the ground, plant stems, or in holes in wood, and because they produce no honey or have a colony to guard, have no need to be defensive or aggressive towards humans (because “towards humans” seems to be what most people base this idea off of). colonial bees, like honeybees, are actually much more defensive than solitary ones; they have huge food stores and many defenseless larvae, hence their nasty stings (or bites, for the stingless bees) and swarm defense of their hives.

bees, however, are just a family of wasps. their closest relatives are believed to be the crabronid wasps (example: cicada killers) and sphecid thread-waisted wasps (ex. mud daubers). these wasps, and most others, are also largely solitary, and hunting prey aside, don’t typically use their stings for anything other than personal defense. of the hundreds of thousands of wasps, most of them (75%) are not just solitary but also parasitoids that develop inside other insects. it’s hard to say “all wasps are assholes [to people]” when some 100,000 of them are tiny specks smaller than sesame seeds that nobody other than scientists notice.

two parasitoids: a braconid ~3mm long & something else ~0.3mm long

the wasps most people take issue with are vespids, since they like the same foods we do (sweets, meat) and have powerful stings to defend their nests. these include the social hornets, yellowjackets, and paper wasps, but many mason wasps and the like are solitary (and, you guessed it, want nothing to do with people). vespids are great predators of caterpillars, flies, and other pests that humans don’t like in addition to being pollinators.

a yellowjacket: Vespula squamosa

the usual anti-wasp, pro-bee sentiments go: wasps attack for no reason, don’t pollinate, don’t make honey, and are “assholes.” wasps do pollinate (most wasps, bees and ants don’t eat solid food, and therefore largely drink flower nectar; some plants are only pollinated by wasps).

some tropical wasps do actually make honey, though it’s not harvested by humans. it’s sort of silly to say that making honey is what makes bees “good” though—a very selfish mindset, and for example butterflies are well-liked by people despite not making any edible products for us.

wasps also attack only when provoked, either because you’re near a wasp nest or when you lean on one accidentally. they are defending their baby sisters and themselves, same as bees would. at least in the US, I think the reason that wasps are so hated is that we have many species of paper wasp and yellowjacket that are willing to nest on or under houses, while the (invasive) honeybees prefer trees or are kept by beekeepers in artificial hives, so it’s just more likely you’ll run into problems with wasps than bees.

tl;dr:

wasps and bees are neither “nice” nor “mean.”

bees are mostly loners that don’t bother people. colonial bees will sting to defend their nests or themselves from predators. most bees are pollinators, who gather pollen to feed their larvae. a few species make honey that humans harvest.

wasps are mostly loners that don’t bother people. colonial wasps will sting to defend their nests or themselves from predators. most wasps are pollinators, and most hunt or parasitize other insects to feed their larvae.

[ink-flavored]

Anthology Blast! Nov. 2024

For this challenge, I'm going to aim to complete 12 short stories, 6 from each anthology, before the end of the month. Read more about it here! I'll update this list whenever I post a completed story, first on Ko-Fi and then on Tumblr. Here are the final stats for this Blast!

Tales from Athendrolyn

Stone Hearted - Available on Ko-fi & on Tumblr & Neocities

How to Train Your Dragon Trainer - Available on Ko-Fi & on Tumblr & Neocities

Reverse Shaping a Friendship - Available on Ko-Fi & on Tumblr & Neocities

Shedding Bad Habits - Available on Ko-Fi & on Tumblr & Neocities

Curiosity & The Copycat - Available on Ko-Fi & on Tumblr & Neocities

Hitting Love's Bullseye - Available on Ko-Fi & on Tumblr & Neocities

Athendrolyn After Dark

Horsing Around - Available on Ko-Fi & on Tumblr & Neocities

Swallowing Pride - Available on Ko-Fi & on Tumblr & Neocities

Artificial Pollination - Available on Ko-Fi & on Tumblr & Neocities

Come In, The Water's Fine - Available on Ko-Fi & on Tumblr & Neocities

Surprise Guest - Available on Ko-Fi & on Tumblr & Neocities

Work Hard, Play Harder - Available on Ko-Fi & on Tumblr & Neocities

BONUS! More Than Skin Deep - Exclusively on Ko-Fi!

[mindblowingscience]

Plants, especially flowering ones, are often grown along roads to beautify cities. Now, a new Singapore study has found that such small artificial green spaces beside busy roads are also beneficial to butterflies, which are important pollinators in urban ecosystems. The research findings could aid urban planners in developing strategies to build more sustainable cities, where roadside greenery with flowers improves the aesthetics and biodiversity of highly urbanized environments.

Continue Reading.

[crypticsketchpad]

Common & Rare Wubbox: Basic Species Information

Scientific name: Monstracantus electricor (rarus; “rare”) - “electric-hearted singing monster”

Average size (bipedal stance): 13' for Commons, 12'-11' for Rares

Diet: omnivorous, with a preference for vegetation and processed food; however, if choosing to eat meat, they are capable of swallowing small prey whole if desired

Habitat: all Natural islands, as well as Fire Haven and Fire Oasis (artificially introduced)

A recent addition to the Monstralia taxonomic tree, wubboxes are an unusual species of monster well-known for their booming roars and massive size. Presumed extinct after the Cataclysm, the species was reintroduced to the modern era after the discovery of dormant wubbox eggs found in underground nests. Unlike other monsters, the Rare variant did not evolve naturally, instead being a product of genetic modification in order to introduce more diversity to the species.*

HIIIII HEY who remembers my old organic/spec bio wubbox concepts?? been reworking them + the "organic monsters" AU a lot recently, so here's some references for the commons and rares! part ape, part reptile, with a little big cat thrown in there lol. very happy with these designs, hope y'all like them! i'll probably post more about them and the whole organic au world in general once i have more actual art to share, ha

More info and random concept sketches below the cut! :D

*in this context, monster rarities are the closest thing to biological "sexes" in species; Common monsters can reproduce asexually, creating other Commons, while Rares cannot reproduce on their own unless they cross-pollinate with a Common. Epics are the result of a rare and unusual genetic mutation in all species, and are unable to self-replicate.

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Detail of a Common Wubbox's eye and nostril area. The purpose of the under-eye scale is unknown, as it doesn't seem to provide much protection to the face, and seems to be a primarily cosmetic feature.

*right sketch is older but it's pretty much the same structurally, figured it's a little clearer than the new one so i included it

Wubboxes’ primary method of communication consists of almost mechanical-sounding trills, clicks, and chirps, as well as deep roars, growls, and purrs; in addition to this, they are capable of learning and speaking plain Monstrous as well as any other monster. The (typically) bright blue, tympanum-like structure on their chests functions as part of a sort of natural speaker. Behind it, their chests have a large, hollow area in the center, which connects to the larynx and windpipe. When vocalizing, the sound passes through this chamber, which amplifies it significantly, often giving their voices a bass-boosted effect. 

Notoriously loud monsters, an enraged wubbox’s roar can not only be heard but felt from a long distance away, and in close range can not only cause hearing damage but physical pain due to the vibration of the sound waves. On the other end, a content one’s purr is quite powerful as well; while the noise itself is too low pitched for most monsters to perceive, the vibrations it produces are very strong, though not enough to cause physical damage or anything other than mild discomfort in others.

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now for the disorganized sketch pile LMAO

1-3: older concept sketches that i still kinda like! i kept them as color reference for the final versions :]

4: ride wife, life good

5: sneak peek at an epic wub design i may or may not end up using. they're significantly larger than commons and rares, with adaptations that allow them to both blend into and survive the conditions of their native environments. they're rare anomalies in the wild, and little is known about them.

[whinnyornot]

PLEASE NOTE: I made these fan redesigns before SSO released or teased any of their magic Gen 3 Shires. This can be corroborated on my Instagram account. All of my old Whinfell redesigns together. This was the project that first got me into redesigning and conceptualizing SSO horse breeds. I think there are some elements I probably would have changed had I worked on these today, but I'm still very proud of how the finished concept turned out as a collaborative project between my clubmates and I.

Which one was your favorite?

Zala: Clouded Crimson moth to chestnut-based fleabitten grey Ouranos: Pompelon Marginata moth to smoky black roan Fayruz: Comostola Laesaria moth to silver bay Tanzi: Gold moth to palomino roan Enfys: Mother of Pearl moth to mushroom Corcráin: Purple-Bordered Gold moth to dunksin roan Azahar: Painted Lichen moth to flaxen black chestnut Individual posts of the Whinfell redesigns: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] Original Lore Post: Here

Lore Transcript:

"Magic Horses on Jorvik are creatures of stories and folklore. As the tales are passed down over the ages, the legends of these horses have been kept alive…

The Whinfell are said to be spirits of growth and fertility. During the spring and times of harvest, these pollinating horses run through Jorvik, dropping iridescent scales from their fur that nurture and greatly enhance the growing power of any foliage they may land on.

This power also extends to the feathered fetlocks of the Whinfell which are a sight to behold, and Jorvegian folklore describes them as having the power to make crops flourish overnight. All it takes is for a Whinfell to gallop across a field of growing produce, and by the next day, the plants will have grown to fruition.

Some legends say these powerful creatures are commonly used as mounts for faeries who braid their manes into tiny stirrups and reins, and ride the Whinfell throughout the night, assisting them on their fruitful runs through the forests and fields. Should a human be so lucky to befriend a Whinfell, they must take great care not to undo the braids within its mane, lest they bring about the wrath of the fae.

While typically wary of humans, the Whinfell makes an excellent companion once their trust is gained. However, riders should steer clear of cities and brightly lit roads at night. The Whinfell are inexplicably drawn to artificial lights and can become so entranced in their glow, they may forget to watch where they are going!

Whether in their true magical colors or in disguise, they ride just like the Shires they resemble."

[saint-ambrosef]

climate change fatalism is so exhausting. it easily becomes a ecological scapegoat to blame instead of humans taking accountability for how their individual actions affect the environment.

i had a conversation earlier in a fb garden group where a women told me that since desertification was changing her local landscape and making it harder to grow native plants, it was actually okay and even good of her to be planting invasive exotic species that could adapt to the "new normal" climate in her area so that the wildlife would have at least something for shade/shelter/food. in the same message she mentioned trying to eradicate native weeds on their acreage because it had no personal use to her or her non-native livestock.

and i was like. no girl. the desertification in your area has been caused by decades of bad agricultural land management practices, something that is fully reversible. those weeds you are ripping out provide more benefit to wildlife than your nasty exotics, and ranchers removing these "undesirable" natives for decades is why the land has grown barren. planting invasive exotics to replace the artificial loss of biodiversity will only hasten the problem you seek to fix.

but the point of my post isn't this specific woman, it's the general attitude she represents. it's a lot easier to blame the nebulous figure of climate change than to work toward ecological restoration. it's simpler to plant invasive exotics than to reverse decades of poor land management. it's more enjoyable to grow a pretty flowering shrub and pretend it's necessary due to climate change than to allow native ragweed to grow even though the allergies suck because it feeds the birds and pollinators. and it's a helluva lot easier to blame climate change for the worsening of your local environment than to admit that overgrazing your livestock and ripping out native plants just because they have no immediate value to you might have contributed heavily to the decline of your microbiome.

climate change has quickly become this collective responsibility that no one individual is responsible for, because it's so easy to blame the slightest change in environment on it. "we're running out of water because of climate change!" it's because urban landscaping practices channel away water instead of letting it soak into the groundwater wells, and turf lawns use 80% of the city water. "the city is so much hotter now!" yeah because twenty years ago developers planted fast-growing but short-lived/weak trees which have now all died, meaning our roads and neighborhoods have way less shade and foliage to absorb the heat. "the bees are disappearing because of climate change!" sharon it's because there's not a single thing in your yard that a native pollinator would recognize as a food source.

anyways i don't know where exactly i'm going with this. i guess i'm just tired of climate change fatalism because it removes personal incentive to do anything to reverse environmental harm that we could be fixing on an individual level. but "global warming" has become a very convenient excuse for many people, unfortunately.

just makes me wonder how often things blamed on climate change are actually a result of direct human actions that are reversible

[forest-and-fauna]

Native Gardening: A Guide for Cold Stratification

It's nearly January, which means that it's time for me to start stratification for my native seeds.

Many native seeds have a built-in dormancy mechanism which will prevent germination until it is broken either naturally by weather, or artificially via cold/moist stratification in the refrigerator. This is a guide for the refrigeration method.

It's best done about 2-3 months before spring if you plan on starting the seeds indoors, or 2-3 months before your last frost date if sowing outdoors (depending on germination requirements). This year I'm using peat moss but you can substitute it with moist sand or damp paper towels.

Choosing Your Plants

One thing to consider before buying native seeds is how successful they will be once planted in your garden. The best way to determine this is by going outside and seeing what grows naturally in the yard.

For example, my yard has mostly shade-loving plants like the Common Blue Violet, Bloodroot, and Witchgrass, along with some hardier, more tolerant species like Blue Wood-Aster and Common Milkweed. Sun-loving plants like goldenrod are present but restricted to the edges of the property. Despite having no natural water source, I have seen a few water-dwelling species pop up as well.

This means that I have a pretty moist/shady backyard and that I should focus on species that either prefer these conditions or are very tolerant of them.

Remember to choose species that grow naturally in your biosphere. Some native seed vendors will provide range maps which will show you where certain plants exist in the wild. This is important because the entire point of native gardening is to support your local ecology and wildlife.

This year I'm raising Virginia Strawberry, Early Goldenrod, Sundial Lupine, Columbine, Spotted-Touch-Me-Not, Bloodroot, and Highbush Cranberry. In addition to pollinators like bees, wasps. and butterflies, these plants will be beneficial to songbirds, hummingbirds, and small mammals.

I always buy seeds from Prairie Moon Nursery. I've had great experiences with them and they even offer native range maps and germination instructions for each species.

Materials:

One bag of peat moss

A mixing bowl

A pitcher or measuring cup of water

Lidded jars or sealable plastic bags (1 per species)

A permanent marker and painters tape for labels.

Seeds of your choosing

Instructions:

Fill your mixing bowl with peat moss.

Slowly add water and mix with your hands until the moss is moist but not soaked. You should be able to form it into a ball.

Press peat moss into each container.

Sprinkle in the seeds. I covered the larger seeds with more peat moss, but the smaller seeds were just sprinkled on top so that I can actually find them when it's time to plant.

Seal containers and label each with the species name, length of time required in the fridge, (usually 60-90 days), and if it requires double dormancy.***

After this, place the containers in the fridge for 60-90 days, depending on the germination requirements. You should check on them weekly to make sure they don't dry out or grow mold. If a seed starts sprouting during stratification, remove it from the container and plant it in a starter pot.

After the 60-90 day period, the seeds will be ready to germinate. Move them into starter pots with soil or plant them directly into your garden bed.

I prefer starting my plants in Peat Pots, which are compostable and can be planted directly in the ground. This allows me to raise my seedlings indoors without the threat of wildlife or competition while preventing me from disturbing their root system when transplanting.

***Note on Double Dormancy

Some plants have double dormancy requirements for germination and can be more challenging to grow. This means that the plant will need a period of cold moisture, then warm moisture, and finally another period of cold moisture before they will germinate. Bloodroot, American Cranberrybush, and Spotted-Touch-Me-Not are all species that need double dormancy.

[tears-of-amber]

GETTING LOCAL WITH YOUR WITCHCRAFT 💚

If you’re like me (where your current living location lacks non-man made water bodies, and is full of non-indigenous plants and artificially landscaped parks) it can be hard to relate to a lot of the witchcraft books that are trending. Some of these authors live in the English or Irish countryside, and it makes it hard to translate their practices to a more local environment. But it’s time to realize there IS beauty and unique magic you can do in your current location! This post will mainly focus on things I’ve discovered (practices, intriguing concepts, and ideas) that apply to my current living circumstance.

IDEA ONE: No Ancient Wells To Wish With? Try Your Local Fountain!

Plenty of big man-made public fountains have spirits. Why? Simply because water (even chlorinated pipe water) has energy. And chances are that energy has attracted a water spirit or already has a water spirit attached to it. I have a library close to my neighborhood. It has a big fountain in front of it, and while this fountain probably only has existed since the 1960’s, the spirit of it is undeniable. It has a personality of a scholar, a spirit that is obsessed with knowledge and will usually grant wishes if you offer it some change from your pocket. NOTE: Make sure it’s ok and legal to throw change in the fountain before just tossing coins in. My local one is fine and it’s even encouraged. Other offerings could be reading it a poem or studying by it, talking to it, humming to it, singing or blessing the water through visualization. You are building a relationship with it essentially. As with all spirits, use proper spirit etiquette. If your fountain has a history, look up what that history is! Or even if it’s only 20 years old, find out who designed it if you can! This can help with bonding with the home of this water spirit. Don’t go in asking for wishes immediately. Just take it slow and find out the nature of this fountain spirit. Not all are friendly, but most are happy to be acknowledged in my experience!

IDEA TWO: YOUR BACKYARD IS A HOME TO MORE THAN YOU! An easy and accessible way to connect to nature.

My backyard is mostly cement. Some would find this discouraging. But i dont! Lizards (western fence lizards in particular) love to sun themselves on the cement that gets heated by the hot sun. I connect often with these lizards, and am friendly yet respectful, giving them their space and building trust by just observing. I learned the blue bellied lizards are rarer but strikingly gorgeous. I take them as a sign from my ancestors that it’s time to grow in a new way, repairing what has been damaged emotionally within me. Now, for the dirt parts that do line the edges of my backyard, I tend honeysuckle that vines on the walls. It grows well in my area, and is not damaging to the indigenous plants of my area either. It attracts lots of hummingbirds, butterflies, and pollinators of all sorts. And it’s great in abundance and growth spells because it grows so nicely and fast! I have a couple fruit trees in the corner and a bush here and there. And these are great spirits to connect with. I cant plant an herb garden in my backyard because the sun is too harsh due to the direction my house faces, but that doesn’t stop me from getting to know all the weeds and creatures that inhabit this space. I get a lot of false hawksbeard that pops up randomly. I used to think it was dandelions but the flower was taller and a bit different in shape! Now I say hello to these little plants every time i see them sprout up. We get some occasional squirrels, and i feed them unsalted non-roasted raw peanuts in the shells. You can get these at pet stores, farmers markets, and grocery stores. I prefer organic ones. Get to know all the creatures that pass by your backyard by sitting out there and enjoying!

IDEA THREE: LOOK UP LOCAL PARKS, WATER BODIES (EVEN RESERVOIRS COUNT) ETC!

It’s as easy as that. Also if you have a friend who’s witchy that you visit often, you guys can chill in their backyard and connect to those spirits too! Forage from those plants, and get to know that environment.

IDEA FOUR: ARE YOU AN AMERICAN? Then you are living on Indigenous land. Time to support the indigenous communities local to you. Be an advocate, and be open to learning how you can protect your local natural environment.

Find out what indigenous land you are on by simply searching “what indigenous people’s land am i on”. There’s a finder that should pop up first that will tell you. Double check to make sure it’s accurate. Learn what this particular group likes to be called (Tongva vs Gabrielino, often there will be a preference). DON’T APPROPRIATE. Be respectful and learn what is respectful to learn about this indigenous people.

[morgenlich]

i also find artificial flavors fascinating for similar reasons. like, synthetic vanilla flavor doesn’t taste the same as the real stuff bc it usually only uses vanillin while actual vanilla has many more flavor compounds which are difficult to mimic and vary considerably by region (vanilla beans from mexico will provide a different flavor than vanilla beans from madagascar)

but actual vanilla is kind of a pain to produce. vanilla orchids require specific climate, soil, etc to grow at all; you have to wait for them to reach maturity; the pods must be individually hand-pollinated; they have to be individually hand-harvested; the curing process is long and intensive; then before they get to market they are sorted and graded by hand again

and honestly in a lot of applications where vanilla is playing as a backup singer, so to speak, the complexity of real vanilla is lost anyway. so vanillin based extract is actually something i would recommend in your kitchen alongside some of the Good Stuff. because it’s kind of amazing to have the base flavor of something so expensive be so cheap to produce

[script-a-world]

Submitted via Google Form:

Does it make any sense to have a world that is entirely vegan because other animals are actually all extinct. You might think with no other animals, this be a world where cannibalistic practices occur more. Well, I never really thought of it because it's that's just nasty. But what would be realistic here? Sure, it may occur as an extreme survival method. But it shouldn't be a normal practice and condemned in every other way. But does make actually make sense in this world with animals going extinct? They do have excellent crops and plenty of ways of getting food. There is no issue with having adequate food supply except for impoverished places. And just like impoverished places in real life, people aren't just resorting to cannibalism as normal. Alright so... for a world with no more animals in its ecosystem... well, how is that even like?? Actually, why is this world even restricted to a planet? There would probably be a lot of people living on moons with no native life and space stations.

Addy: I'm in the middle of finals right now (is it okay to include that? Idk), so you're getting some straight-from-the-tap unpolished thoughts.

Are there insects? 'Cause if this is a post-extinction event, then you've got a whole issue of like... plants that used to be pollinated by insects (beetles, bees, moths, butterflies, ants, etc), birds, etc but now have to be pollinated by wind (which is way less efficient, so you'd probably get stuff that's like cedars or oak trees, where there's just pollen *everywhere*, and other stuff would at least have more difficulty surviving). And then there's... everything. The balance between plants, insects, etc, *everything* is very nuanced. This feels like it'd become the lawn garden equivalent of an ecosystem - alive, but not thriving. Like a garden laden with pesticides, you just... wouldn't get good growth, and that'd spur on its own set of issues.

Plus like. Grazing. Grazing is a huuuuge influence on grasslands, etc, so the removal of all herbivores would... man. That'd do a lot. I don't know if you could even *have* a grassland under this system. Like without grazing, the accumulation of plant matter + wildfire ecology (lightning strikes and all that) would mean huge blazes that would sterilize the soil. Instead of grassland growing back, you'd get like saplings driven on the wind or whatever. Probably.

(Something something Yellowstone when they brought the wolves back, every piece has a role to play)

If there *are* insects, then that'd have its own set of massive issues. Great Famine of China/Great Leap Forward kinds of issues. Like wow. Also insect predation on trees, that'd spur another wave of problems.... everything would be effected. Everything.

If you're on a space station, it's generally assumed that plants are being grown in a tightly controlled artificial environment. Humidity, "rain," light, nutrients, all of that under human (or at least sentient/sophont) control. It isn't expected to be a natural, thriving environment, and it's fairly small-scale. If you have some sort of space garden, it's generally either only plants or plants + some insects + small wildlife. A whole planet... man. Honestly a terrifying thought.

(You thought Silent Spring was bad)

(This is so much worse)

Also, what about fish? Is the whole ocean totally sterile? Are there even krill (or local equivalent)? Phytoplankton, I assume, would be around (also there's a scary thought about like the whole oxygen cycle wow), but... this is just a terrifying prospect for a world.

Oh, and coral! That's an animal, technically. Not really an edible one, but an animal nonetheless. Snails? Jellyfish? Detritivores? Anything to filter the water?

We have no reference for what this would look like. If they want to make a world like this, I'd say the best bet would be to imagine a world sanitized by fire and war and death and ecological omnicide and who-knows-what. Then, on the barren remains of the world-that-was, put a sentient/sophont species with a seed bank. Fern spores. Pollen and sprouts. Some great record of a sliver of the majesty that once was.

In the dust-filled deathworld, this remnant husk of what was once an emerald jewel, there is a structure, and in that structure, there is a person. They have a plot, they have nitrates, they have ammonium, they have potassium, they have phosphorus. They may have mycorrhize, if they're lucky. In that plot, they have a plant. Maybe a few. They save it all for replanting and propagation, and subsist off of freeze-dried rations made before the Happening. They are lucky to be alive.

The world outside is barren. There is nothing to hold together the topsoil. Anything that once was there has rotted and blown away (yay bacteria)(unless those are dead too). The Dust Bowl, on a scale of a world. The Sahara, in comparison, would be a fertile haven of life.

Recovery is slow. Plants, as they grow under the sheltered eye of humanity, decompose once again, cycling through generations as they build up organic matter, thick and lush and *whole*(it can never be whole, too much has been lost, the world will never, ever be the same). The structure expands. Nothing built before the Happening is sealed tightly enough to keep out the dust, microscopic in size as it is.

Coastal regions get some amount of moisture, from the fetid winds that blow off the heaving corpse-lungs of the ocean. Without zooplankton and other organisms to manage the growth of phytoplankton and algae, it is trapped in a cycle of explosion and eutrophication. Life survives in the deepest depths of the oceans, some think, though it, too, may be dead, suffocated by lack of oxygen. Without mollusks or corals or jellyfish or anything to filter the water, the upper layers are thick with rotting plant matter. Some of it sinks, some of it floats. It becomes nutritional matter for the next growth explosion, and that, too, will rot.

A garden is made, sheltered to the extent that it can be. Carefully-selected plants take root in the mulch of their ancestors. Rain is strange and violent, heaved against mountains by wind currents, which themselves are driven by the vast temperature differences of the unevenly-heated planet. There is no friction upon the ground to slow it down, excepting the husks of once-grand cities and their slowly-falling towers. Floods are frequent, in the places that do get rain. Drought prevails elsewhere. Even when rain falls, there is nothing to receive it but silt and clay and stone (and a few spare bacteria). Murky streams of water wind their way to the ocean. Inch by inch, plants come back. Nature will not return for a hundred million years. Until then, until some random quirk of genetics pushes organisms from microbial to sizable, who knows what will happen? If we are lucky, lichens and mosses remain in the great vault of humanity. If we are unlucky, every inch of un-desertification will take holes and effort and windbreaks and labor.

Basically the world kinda needs animals, at least through our understanding of it. Continents are big, and life as we know it has evolved in a web of give and take, push and pull, supply and demand. Without one half of that equation, it is a fundamentally different setup. Maybe algaes can be stable. Maybe they can't. I don't really know. I'd recommend looking into the hows-and-whys-and-whats of various extinction periods in Earth's history to get a better idea of how things happen. It won't capture a picture of what life without animals could look like, but hey, it's something.

Also, cannibalism (at least in humans) is generally only seen as a desperate measure for survival. Prion diseases are a genuine risk, along with whatever else may have killed the person. With how many plagues (and other afflictions) humans can carry, eating a dead person generally isn't worth the risk. Also also, human brains take a lot of protein. That can be obtained through non-animal needs, but it's less efficient (in terms of digestibility and protein density, not in terms of overall energy transformation efficiency of sunshine -> meal). If famine ever hits, a plant-only diet is far more vulnerable to starvation (in times of famine, fish have saved lives).

[liminalgardens]

Image: Alone with the Gods, Piccinini, 2016

Posthumanist Art

Posthumanism is an invitation to reconfigure our existence, redirect our attention, and reconnect with others (human, nonhuman, technology, and ecosystems), not in a romantic but in a responsible, engaged, respectful, and never-objectifying way...

The first philosophical traces of the radical shifts that will thereafter become known as posthumanism became visible at the end of the nineteenth century in the work of Friedrich Nietzsche, only to resurface during the second half of the last century in the poststructural work of Michele Foucault, Judith Butler, Deleuze and Guattari, and Jacques Derrida.

These philosophers were among the first to wrestle with the acknowledgment that the boundaries that define the human are a dangerous cultural construct. Their target was the blinkeredness of anthropocentrism — a byproduct of humanism: the Renaissance dogma that put humans on a pedestal and made us the measure of all things. - Flash Art

Image: The Pollinators Pavilion, Lily Landes

Flashback to 1992: curator Jeffrey Deitch traveled between Lausanne, Turin, Athens, Hamburg, and Jerusalem ( bypassing the  USA and other world art capitals) with a cutting-edge exhibition of 36 avant-garde artists who were foregrounding a moment in technology culture in the early internet age when outmoded binary boundaries between subjects and objects, human and non-humans were being blurred. 

The carnivalesque exhibition, Post Human showed that body improvement that celebrated artificiality was becoming the new normality: plastic surgery, diet pills, and mind-altering drugs could enhance humans beyond their wildest fantasies.

The success of the exhibition showed that art was assuming a more central role by merging with science, computerization, and biotechnology to reshape the human form and identity with an outlandish flair for embracing the artificial. The controversial message was disseminated by the European press and quickly reached the up-and-coming younger artists and art schools around the world. The adoration of the inorganic over the natural was becoming habitual to some while others felt the human race was becoming an endangered species. - White Hot Magazine

Image: To See the Earth Before the End of the World, by Precious Okoyomon

While it is a commonly accepted fact that humans are essentially animals, we continue to place ourselves in opposition to animals and other life forms. Posthumanism suggests that we should stop thinking of ourselves as superior to the rest of the planet and accept that we are part of nature...

Taking a posthuman perspective, we may start by asking a deeper question: why do we continue to associate the word ‘humane’ with lack of cruelty? After all, no animal is as cruel and destructive as the human animal. We need to take a good look in the mirror and ask ourselves whether ‘the human’ should really be used as an ethical standard.

Likewise, we must face the even more difficult ethical question of whether the preservation of the human should always be put above all else. Does the saving of human lives justify the destruction of our planet and the killing of other animals? - The Collector

Image: Post Human at Jeffrey Deitch, Los Angeles

[ink-flavored]

Anthology Blast Prompt 6: Artificial Pollination

for the Athendroyln After Dark Anthology Full prompt list for the Anthology Blast Tips are appreciated! Contains: human/dryad, misunderstandings, accidental indecent exposure, accidental public sex, muffing, fingering, handjobs, tree/flower/non-genital sex, magic sex toys, first time (with each other), fondling, explaining sex and genitals Dysphoria warning: There is a trans woman in this story. Her genitals are referred to as: clit/clitoris, hard/erection, ball(s), testicle(s), inguinal canal(s), inguinal ring(s), cunt(s). Please use discretion if these words will trigger any dysphoria.

Candice stumbled off the train with the few other passengers who took the Athendrolyn Public Transportation rail this far out. Arborbend was the final stop on the line, and compared to the other APT rail stops, it was falling apart at the seams. The metal-framed wood structure was rickety and weather-beaten, A few planks squeaked under her boots in a way she was particularly uneasy about, considering the river was only one unfortunate accident away.

She shook herself, traipsing down the stairs. There was no way this place wasn’t magically reinforced—she hoped. It should have been.—and if it was really that structurally unsound, they wouldn’t run the train on it anyway. Besides, there was no point in letting something so small bother her today. She was meeting Maggie for plant shopping.

Candice had never been to Arborbend before, but Maggie insisted it was the neighborhood with the best plant nurseries in the city. Which made sense—being so close to the edge of town and therefore the local forest, Arborbend was the unofficial dryad population center of the city. Stepping out from the rail stop and into the midsummer sun, it was obvious.

The roads were completely dirt. No streets, no pavement, not even any wheel tracks from anyone who dared try to drive or bike. Instead, dozens of dryads glided right through the uncovered soil, almost floating as they pushed themselves along by their roots. Some planted themselves in the middle of the path, standing motionless to soak up the afternoon sun.

The buildings were all wood, some using fully grown trees in their design, and every single one had a garden. Whether it was a neatly tended window planter, or vines climbing up the walls, not a house or business crossed her eye without one. They were taller, too, and so were the doors. They reminded Candice of the “nested doors” in more populated parts of the city, but there were no alternate doors for shorter creatures here. She didn’t mind that—she had to use the taller nested doors to avoid banging her head on the “human sized” doors that were just a little too short for her. Dryad doors would be a welcome relief.

The one thing this neighborhood did not have was any street signs. Candice bounced on the balls of her feet, trying to figure out where she was going.

“Over here!”

Candice snapped her head around and slumped in relief. Maggie waved her gnarled branch of an arm from not too far away. Her evergreen leaves were as big and forest-dark as ever, the crown of her branches piled tall on her head in a cone shape. If anyone could help her navigate this part of the city, it was a literal magnolia tree.

“Thank the Gods,” Candice said, approaching at a light jog. She had to crane her neck to look Maggie in the face, the tall and lanky tree that she was. “I thought I was going to have to memorize this place myself.”

“Don’t worry,” Maggie said. She spoke with magic, like all dryads, her face made of twisted bark, with no mouth, nose, or skin to wrinkle. Despite that limitation, her tree sap eyes shone a happy amber. “I know it’s hard for the unrooted to navigate around here.”

“Yeah, I bet.” She gestured down the street. “Go ahead, lead on.”

“Well, first.” Maggie pointed in the opposite direction. “We’re going this way.”

“And that’s why I’m glad you’re here.”

Maggie laughed, her bark creaking, and she started off down the dirt road. Candice could have sworn she saw one of her closed flower buds start to bloom, but it was gone the next time she looked. Maybe it was her imagination.

The path they took was so convoluted Candice knew she would have gotten lost a hundred times if she tried to do it herself. There was almost nothing intuitive about how the roads were organized—to a human, anyway—and sometimes buildings appeared out of nowhere to block the way. Maggie navigated it all flawlessly, as if she had a map right in front of her. Though, more accurately, the map was underneath her, her roots churning through the dirt to find her way.

“Here we are!” she announced, at the end of their maze. “Welcome to Whistleroot Plant Nursery.”

Before them was a beautiful, massive greenhouse, more extravagant than even the most decorated buildings Candice had seen on their way here. The glass walls displayed plants and flowers for at least two stories from top to bottom, all of them flourishing. The roof burst with them, the glass top opened to let them stretch their branches and give the whole building a leafy haircut.

“Wow,” Candice said.

Maggie plucked her roots out of the dirt to walk on top of the ground instead. “Shall we?”

Candice raced ahead to beat her long stride and open the glass door for her. “After you.”

A big white blossom popped open near her face, ten big petals and a bright yellow center. It was beautiful, but Candice didn’t get to admire it for very long. Panicked, Maggie’s hands flew up to coax the flower back to a closed bud.

“Thanks,” she said, hurrying into the nursery. “Sorry, I—Thank you.”

“No problem.” Candice followed behind her, feeling like she was missing something.

It was another short-lived feeling, as the inside of Whistleroot Plant Nursery dazzled her even more than the outside. An entire spectrum of colored blossoms spanned as far as the eye could see. Knowing almost nothing about plants, she could already tell which ones were magical—flowers unfurling when someone walked by, only to close again when they passed, vines reaching out to dig around in other planters, some that spoke. Although, maybe that wasn’t so shocking.

“What do you want to look at first?” Maggie asked—a walking, talking plant.

“I need something totally unkillable,” Candice said. “I have whatever the opposite of a green thumb is.”

“Come on, I’m sure you aren’t that bad.”

“I’ve killed a cactus before.”

Maggie nodded slowly. “Okay, that does change things. Let’s… go this way?”

She ducked under a curtain of vines and Candice followed. She hadn’t touched a plant in years, but since meeting Maggie at a terrarium build-off, she was warming up to trying again. After all, her gray-banded kingsnake, Barbecue, was going need a new enclosure soon. If she could overcome her plant-killing tendencies and make it a vivarium for him, she would be the proudest snake parent in all of Athendrolyn.

“So, I don’t know about unkillable,” Maggie said, approaching a wide tray of ferns, “but magical plants do tend to be hardier than mundane plants.”

“I’ll take whatever I can get, honestly,” Candice said. “As long as it won’t kill me back.”

She shook her head, laughing. “No, no, of course not. Most of them are totally harmless.”

That wasn’t really an encouraging caveat, but hey, Maggie was the expert here. Candice turned the label of the nearest pot toward her. “’Echo fern,’ huh?”

The plant rustled its leaves. “Echo fern, huh?”

She jumped back. “Gah!”

“Gah!”

“Are you okay?” Maggie asked, clearly trying not to laugh.

“I’m fine.” She glanced warily at the talking fern. “Not sure about this one, though.”

“No problem, there are plenty more!”

They kept moving through the magical section. On the left, they passed a tray of cute looking flowers. Candice felt a little more at ease looking at them—they didn’t move, or talk. Maybe they were for potions. In fact, they looked like completely normal oxeye daisies, clustered together in big white and yellow groups.

“What’s so magical about these?” she asked, picking up one of the planters.

“No, you shouldn’t—”

The flowers angled their petals right at her face. Maggie yanked them out of her hands just in time for one of them to shoot all of its petals clean off its stem. They went flying around the nursery. One sliced clean through a thick vine and sent it tumbling to the ground.

Candice stared, horrified. “What the f—"

“Those are assassin daises,” Maggie explained, and gingerly put the planter down. “They’re, uh, not for beginners.”

“Right. Shit.” She scooted a little farther away. “I’m… going to listen to you before touching things from now on.”

Maggie quickly ushered her away from the assassin daisies and towards something much nicer looking. A series of plants in medium-sized ceramic pots were lined up by one of the glass windows, waving their long, stringy stems in the air. Pea-sized leaves ran up and down each stem, shifting back and forth like they were caught in a breeze.

“This is a twisted tassel vine,” Maggie said. “It’s happy with being watered once a week in a spot with good sunlight, and it’s friendly!”

She brushed her hand across the nearest vine. It delicately wrapped itself around her finger-branches, all the way up to her wooden wrist. The other vines from the same plant listed through the air toward her, swaying side to side.

“And they like to dance,” she giggled, and joined it swaying from side to side.

“That’s so cute,” Candice said, smiling at the sight. Maggie froze in place, glancing between her and the plant.

“H-here, you should—Come on, try it!”

She grabbed Candice’s wrist and held her hand over the plant—kind of unnecessary, since she would have done it anyway, but whatever. Maybe she was just excited.

The twisted tassel leaned toward her, feeling through the air for her hand. True to its name, the vine twisted around and around her fingers, soft leaves brushing her skin. It had a tighter grip than she expected, as if made of muscle and not a fragile stem. When it moved its free vines, swishing back and forth, she felt it trying to pull her along. The little tug from a plant that liked to dance was simply too adorable for Candice to pass up. Now she and Maggie stood in the corner of the plant nursery, swaying back and forth like it was something to do.

“This feels kinda silly,” she said.

“But it’s fun,” Maggie added.

“Yeah, it’s fun! Somehow!” She laughed at how ridiculous it was—she was dancing with a plant. Two plants, if she counted Maggie.

Although, maybe she shouldn’t, because Maggie had stopped again. She just stared, amber eyes sparkling. If she had a mouth, Candice would have bet money on a grin.

“What?” she asked.

“Hm?”

“What’s that look for?”

She startled, as if she didn’t realize what she was doing. “I—I wasn’t—”

“Excuse me,” said a terse voice behind them. They turned and saw an oak tree dryad, as disgruntled as their near-featureless face could express. “I believe the magnolia here is flowering.”

“W-what?” Maggie rushed to pat down her leaves, leaving the twisted tassel behind, and gasped. “It was behind me, I’m so sorry. I—I didn’t even realize.”

“Just be more careful next time, hm?” The oak dryad left before either of them could reply.

Candice frowned after them. “That was rude.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Maggie insisted, but she stood a little farther away. “Let’s keep going?”

“Well, hold on. I like this one.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, it’s fun.” Candice carefully untangled herself from the vines and lifted the pot into her arms. “My new adventure in plants starts now.” The twisted tassel seemed to like that idea, reaching up to play in her hair. “Although, uh. Does it ever stop… doing this?”

“It stops at night,” Maggie said. She reached over the twisted tassel display and plucked a long piece of string out of a cup. “You can tie it up for now.”

Candice held the pot as far from her as her arms could reach so Maggie could pluck the vines out of hair and tie them together gently. It didn’t completely stop, wiggling half-heartedly, but it wasn’t so adventurous while she carried it around.

Neither was Maggie. She rattled off plant facts when they got near one she liked, but not as enthusiastically. She kept her distance from Candice, too, leaving a polite bubble of air reserved for strangers. It was really weird, and a little worrying.

Every time Maggie bloomed, she tried to close the flower back up. Candice had only seen a full flower bloom from her once while they were hanging out, on accident, and she apologized profusely for it. She was always cagey about why, so Candice just assumed it was a dryad thing she wouldn’t be able to understand. After that stranger scolded her about it, she was even more sure that she was missing something. But after this reaction, she wondered.

It seemed like Maggie was repressing herself. Flowering was a natural thing for plants, right? Why was it such a big deal that she would go out of her way to apologize for it? Why was it such a big deal that strangers would scold her for it? Candice didn’t really want to ask her in public, if the subject was so embarrassing. But there had to be some way to make her feel better.

“This twisted tassel obviously can’t go in a vivarium,” she said, off-handedly. “I think I’d be scared of it dancing Barbecue to death.”

“Me too, it would be too risky,” Maggie agreed. “Plus, he would definitely hate it.”

“Yeah, he’d try to murder this thing.” Candice nudged her with an elbow. “You helped with the build-off, right? What kinds of plants usually go in one?”

“Hmm, he’s a desert species, right?” She glanced around at the sea of plants before them. “You can always play it safe with mundane desert plants—palms, agave, aloe vera, bromeliad if you want some color. Oh!” She rushed over to one of the mundane plants and plucked out one with long, wavy leaves, growing in the shape of a star. “This is a red cryptanthus, aren’t they pretty?”

“That’s awesome. It almost matches his orange-y part.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Maggie gasped and shoved the cryptanthus back on the tray. “That gives me an idea. Come on, over here!”

Candice hefted the twisted tassel pot in her arms and followed as close as she could. Maggie led her back to the magical plant section, and stopped in front of a relatively normal looking leafy specimen. Suspiciously normal, she thought, but maybe it was the daisies getting to her.

“This is a chameleon blossom,” Maggie explained. “It looks like a normal plant, right?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Maggie took the pot from her. “Go on, touch it. It won’t work if I try.”

Candice shuffled forward. “Are you sure?”

“It’s totally safe, I promise!”

Cautiously, she reached out to brush one of the leaves. The whole thing shuddered and turned the same peachy-beige as her skin.

“Whoa,” she said.

“And it copies other animals too! So if you put this in Barbecue’s enclosure, it would change colors to match whenever he got near it.”

“That would be pretty cool. I wonder if it would stress him out, though.”

Maggie nodded. “Good point. It is a defense mechanism to scare animals away.”

“I’ll ask around the herp scene.” Candice took the twisted tassel pot back. “Someone else must have tried it at some point.”

“Probably.” She picked at a groove in her bark. “I really thought it was a good idea, oh well.”

“Don’t worry about it. I still have to prove I can keep one plant alive before I start building an ecosystem.” She started walking backwards to the checkout. “And this thing is getting heavy, so I’m good starting with one.”

Candice paid for her plant, including the upcharge offer to enchant the pot to be easier to carry. While they waited at the register, she gave Maggie a light punch on the arm.

“Thanks for coming plant shopping with me,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” Maggie said, but shrugged. “I don’t think I did all that much, though.”

“What do you mean? You recommended I come here in the first place, which is why I’m buying this plant right now. That was my one goal, and your suggestion is why I did it today.”

She shifted her weight, glancing down at her roots. “Well, I guess.”

“You gave me some good advice for Barbecue’s future home. I learned some plant facts!”

“You almost got attacked by an assassin daisy.”

“And that. Which you saved me from, so hey, you also saved my life today!”

Maggie laughed, leaves rustling. Another one of her flowers popped open—a big one, soft-looking petals forming a delicate circle around the cone-like center. She raised her hand, no doubt to close it, and Candice couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

“Why do you do that?” she asked.

“Do… what?” Maggie replied, frozen in place.

“Why do you close your flowers all the time?” She reached for Maggie’s hand and guided it away. “I think they’re pretty.”

“Uh—I, um—Thank you, but—”

“I didn’t say anything before because… I felt weird, I guess, but I really wish you wouldn’t.”

Maggie glanced all around, anxious, but she didn’t take her hand back. “C-Candice, that’s really nice of—”

She went completely still as Candice reached up to cup the flower she tried to hide. The petals were soft, and a little waxy. It was too high up for her to smell, but maybe if she got on her toes—

“What is going on out here?”

Maggie snapped upright. The dryad cashier was back with the twisted tassel, looking as shocked and appalled as a tree could get. Before Candice could explain, Maggie snatched the pot out of the cashier’s hands and shoved down to her. She stumbled back—but it was much lighter.

“I’m so—we’re so sorry,” Maggie stammered, already shuffling toward the exit. “She’s still learning about, uh, dryad things—”

“If you want to teach her that, wait until next spring and save it for the rooting area. Please.”

“Th-that’s what I was about to tell her! Thanks, goodbye!”

And then Maggie dragged her full-speedout of the plant nursery by the crook of her arm. She didn’t settle for just being out of the building—she dragged them down the street and into an alley between houses. That one flower was closed up tight. Candice felt less confused and more like she’d fucked up. Big time.

That cashier was almost as horrified as she was to be attacked by the assassin daisy. Was flowering out of season rude? Was it really impolite to touch someone else’s flowers? That would make sense, it was a part of someone else’s body after all. Maggie seemed more bothered by Candice touching her than the other dryads telling her to close her flowers, too. Standing awkwardly in the alley, her stomach sank.

“Are you okay?” Candice asked, not knowing what else to say.

“I—I think so? I’m fine,” Maggie stammered. She stared right at the ground. “I’ll be fine, it’s not a big—”

“No, stop.” Candice sighed and put her plant on the ground. “I didn’t mean to—I thought I was helping. You seemed so upset when that one person told you to close up, and it seems like it stresses you out a lot, so I thought…” She circled her hands, searching for an explanation, but quickly gave up. “I don’t know what I thought. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, really. It’s a little embarrassing, but—”

“I didn’t want to embarrass you. I wasn’t thinking, and I made you look rude in front of everybody. I didn’t mean to, but I still messed up. I’m sorry.”

Maggie slowly looked up. “Rude?”

“Yeah? Isn’t that why everyone was upset?”

“Not… exactly.” Her bark creaked, the dryad equivalent of a sigh. “I should have told you what it meant before now. It is sort of rude for me to flower in public, but it’s not offensive or anything it’s—indecent.”

Her heart did a little nervous kick. “Indecent how?”

Maggie diligently refused eye contact as she explained, “Dryads don’t reproduce like unrooted creatures do. It happens in the spring, when we get pollinated. Our pollinated flowers turn into fruits, and planting a dryad’s fruit is how more of us are ‘born.’ In that way, all our flowers are like your… sex organs.”

Candice put her hands over her mouth. “Oh Gods.”

“So when I flower in public it’s pretty embarrassing, but, uh, touching it—”

“Oh Gods, I’m so sorry.” Her face burned too bright to hide, but she did her best. “Maggie, I’m so, so sorry, I can’t believe I just—”

“Please don’t feel bad! It’s my fault, I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you to know how much I want you all the time and—” She broke off with an anxious creak.

Candice peeked between her fingers. “What?”

Maggie stood perfectly still, as if she would turn invisible and the conversation would disappear. As the rest of her statement sunk in, Candice realized Maggie had been flowering for almost the entire time they’d known each other. She slowly lowered her hands from her face.

“I didn’t know dryads could have… urges,” she said, and it was true. If she had known, she might have brought it up sooner.

“Yep,” Maggie squeaked.

A different kind of heat flushed her body and pooled in her lower back. “How about this: I still feel really bad for having accidental flower sex with you.” It broke the tension, finally, and they both laughed. Candice reached out for one of Maggie’s gnarled-branch hands, running her thumb across the bark. “If you like, we can have flower sex on purpose. To make up for it.”

Three different blossoms burst open on her head. She didn’t make a single move to hide them. “Really? You want to?”

“I want to try, at least? I don’t really know what dryad sex is like.”

“I don’t know what human sex is like either.”

“Cool, so we’ll both be learning things.” Candice reached for her other hand. “Your place is definitely closer, soooo…?”

She nodded so vigorously that a couple of her leaves fell off. “Yes! Yes, it’s this way.”

Candice barely remembered to pick up her twisted tassel before Maggie raced off down the maze-like streets. She was really excited, not that Candice could blame her if she’d been waiting around all this time. And Candice was too, if apprehensive. Not only had she never had sex with a dryad before, she hadn’t been in a sexual situation with another human in ages. Unless she counted herself, which felt like cheating.

Still, her body reacted where her mind faltered. Since the promise of affection had been raised, she hadn’t been able to stop her heart from racing. The heat in her cheeks hadn’t left and neither had her growing arousal. She was glad she’d stopped tucking years ago, because her hardening clit would have made it very uncomfortable.

They arrived at Maggie’s place quick. She didn’t waste any time opening the door and inviting her inside, and Candice obliged just as fast. Maggie clapped and fairy lights leapt into enchanted lanterns lining the walls, washing them with a soft yellow glow.

“Make yourself at home,” she said, gesturing out vaguely. “Oh! I should—do something.” As fast as they arrived, she rushed into a different room.

“Don’t stress yourself out,” Candice called after her, setting her plant by the front door. She knelt down to unlace her boots, scanning the room as she did.

The twisted tassel would have plenty of company. Maggie’s home matched the trends of the other buildings: covered in plants and exceptionally tall. Disregarding the height, the place was small, with one huge living space and only two additional rooms. Most of the decorations were plants, blooming in all colors, creeping up the walls, or across the floor. There were a few shelves and tables free of vegetation, holding books or picture frames. In the center of the living space, there was a big comfy looking couch and low tables on either side. In the corner near a window, the floor was entirely ripped out. The exposed soil looked like the roads—churned up by roots, like it was used often. A nightstand with a few drawers rested against the wall nearby.

“I’m back!” Maggie said, somehow sounding breathless. She had a fistful of stones in one hand and a parrot-sized gargoyle in the other arm. It chomped down on her bark, to no effect.

“Who’s this?” Candice asked, making her way across the room.

“This is Feldspar. It’s cranky because I woke it up.” She hefted the stone animal in her arm and ushered it to another room. “I just want to get it set up in the library, so it won’t, uh, interrupt.”

“Wait, you have a library?”

“It’s nothing crazy!” She came back out, free of her passenger, and shut the door. “I’ll show you… another time? Or later?”

“Yeah, later is fine.” Candice stepped a little closer, her heart in her mouth. “So, uh, how are we doing this?”

“Right. So. I sleep in the corner over there, so I have this.” Maggie gestured at the couch. “I keep this for unrooted guests, and I can unfold it for more space.”

“Sure, that works.”

She went over to the couch and pressed a button on the side. The whole thing sparkled and popped into a fold-out bed. Candice waddled over and sat down, blood thumping in her ears. Maggie sat next to her. They looked at each other.

“What do humans do first?” she asked. A few more flowers bloomed among her branches.

“It depends,” Candice answered, scooting closer. “Do you know what a kiss is?”

“I’ve seen them. I don’t know if…” She gestured at her mouthless face.

“It’s worth a shot, though. Right?”

She nodded, so Candice made the first move. She reached up and cupped her face, all braided branches and shiny amber eyes. They closed the distance together, Candice planting a kiss where Maggie’s lips would have been. The rough bark scratched against her. It tasted like wood. They pulled back and looked at each other again.

“Did you,” Candice asked, “get anything out of that?”

Maggie shook her head apologetically. “Not really.”

“Okay, scratch that off. How about touching?”

“Most of my sensation is up here.” She pointed at her crown of branches. “But I know yours is everywhere, right?”

“More or less.” Candice reached for the hem of her shirt. “I can take this stuff off and we’ll go from there?”

“Y-yeah, okay. If you—if you want.”

Candice stood up, smiling into her chest. Maggie knew enough about human sex to understand that part. She peeled her shirt off and dropped it to the ground, then unclipped her bra to let her breasts swing free. Maggie reached out shyly.

“Can I…?” she asked.

Candice stalled at the button of her pants. She redirected to take Maggie’s cautious hand and press it to her stomach. “Go ahead.”

Her bark creaked in a way that sounded a bit like a human whimper. Her branchy fingers skidded across her skin, over her soft belly and up her sides. Candice held her arms in the air to give her room to explore, flushing. The rough touch of bark felt weird on her mouth, but against her body, it felt nicer than she expected. Like a pumice stone or rough brush, Maggie’s hands dragged across her skin with a comfortable scrape.

“These are more sensitive,” she said, guiding her up.

Maggie cupped her breasts, and she sighed hotly. She flicked her amber gaze up and down, working her way up to massaging them in her coarse hands. Candice put her arms behind her head and threaded her fingers through her hair, biting her bottom lip. It felt a lot nicer than she expected.

“Is this okay?” Maggie asked, keeping up her work.

“Yeah, yes,” she breathed. “Can I do something for you?”

Her hands stuttered. “Uh, my… my leaves?”

Now that she was sitting down, Candice was face to face with her leaves and flowers. As enticing as the flowers looked, she started with a leaf first. Maggie creaked as she ran her fingers over the wide, oval expanse. The dark green top was smooth and leathery, contrasted by the rough, yellowish underside. Candice pinched it at the base with one hand and used the other to run down the center of the blade, all the way to its tip.

“C-Ca—” Maggie stammered.

“Is that a good sound?” she asked.

She nodded. “Y-yes, it’s good.”

Encouraged, Candice hopped to the next nearest leaf. She traced her fingers across it, feeling it up like she’d feel a human’s body. She pinched and dragged some more, smoothed it with her thumbs, followed the path of the veins. Maggie made more creaky-whimpers as she had her leaves fondled, hands slipping from Candice’s chest to wrap around her waist.

It didn’t phase her. Enthralled in her work, she switched leaves when Maggie’s voice tapered off, revving her back up again with a fresh caress. The only thing that slowed her down was the flowers.

Maggie opened so many new blossoms, Candice was worried she’d run out of leaves. Her fingers already brushed the sides of petals on her search. They bumped against flowers as she stroked and touched the leaves. The air smelled light and lemony, sweet and enticing, begging to be noticed. And Candice definitely noticed.

They weren’t in public anymore. They were here to have sex. She could touch them now. She wanted to touch them even more, knowing what they really meant. So she did.

Candice cupped the nearest flower in both hands, cradling the petals in her palms. Maggie shook, branches trembling, and warbled a moan through her enchanted voice, bark squeaking even louder. Candice couldn’t help but smile, bending down to sniff. The citrus was even more powerful this close.

“You smell nice,” she said.

“Th-thanks,” Maggie shuddered. She lifted her head, eyes shining desperately. “C-can we—I need to—”

“Yes, I want to.” Candice dropped her hands to cup her face. “Just tell me what to do.”

“O-okay. I have to get something.”

She stood up and Candice felt a little proud to see her wobbling. She went to the corner of the room with the ripped-up floor—her “bed”—and dug around in one of the drawers. When she came back, she had what looked like a rubber glove with tiny brushes on the finger pads.

“This is a pollination toy,” she explained. “It’s not safe to touch the carpels or stamens with your hands, so you can use this instead. It feels like a pollinator, but it doesn’t actually carry pollen.”

“That’s a good idea.” Candice took the glove and pulled it on. It was a little big at first, but an enchantment shrunk it down to fit snugly around her hand. “Like this?”

Maggie stared blatantly at the fingertips of the glove. “Mhm…”

She smiled a little, showing it off. “I can’t reach you up there.”

“Oh! Right! Let’s, uh, lie down?”

They scooted onto the fold-out bed together, until Maggie was on her back and Candice sat by her head. There were dozens of flowers open on her branches now, each with its petals spread invitingly and curly carpels lifting toward the sky. Candice held a gloved finger over one, suddenly aware of how fragile they must be.

“Let me know if I do too much,” she said. And lowered her hand.

The instant the brush touched her carpels, Maggie made a long creaking sound. Candice rubbed it in a gentle circle, hoping treating it like human genitals wasn’t too far off. The branches under the flower rustled and Maggie creaked again.

“Good,” she moaned. “Good, good, feels good.”

Candice nodded, relieved she was doing something right. Experimentally, she used her thumb and index finger to brush the sides, among the dozens of stamens. Maggie squeaked, body twitching underneath her.

“Bad?” she asked, backing off preemptively.

“N-no, no it’s good.” She wiggled a little. “Please, it’s good.”

She went back to what she was doing, stroking the whole center. At the very top, she tickled the carpels with her finger, and slid back down. It made Maggie creak-moan again, so she kept it up. It did feel a bit like playing with someone’s clit, teasing it over and over. The petals were easy enough to imagine as soft folds to push through to get to her sweet flower-pussy.

“C-can you switch?” Maggie stammered.

“Switch flowers?” Candice asked.

“Mhmm. It feels good to switch a lot.”

“Gotcha.”

Candice gave the flower one final tease and dragged her fingers to one next to it. Now in the right mindset, she brushed the carpels in tiny circles, fucking her gently like she asked. This flower was just as sensitive as the last, Maggie creaking for each little brush. She rubbed the stamens with her thumb, spanning her other fingers wide across the inside of the flower.

“O-oh fuck,” Maggie moaned, and Candice almost jumped.

“Did you just swear?”

She covered her face with her hands. “S-shut up, you made me.”

Candice had to pull her hand away so she could laugh. “It’s not a bad thing! I’m proud of myself for that.”

Maggie uncovered her face, reaching for her leg. “Can you try again?”

“You can count on it.”

She got back to work on a third flower. Like before, she teased and circled the carpels, stroked the stamens, but added brushing the petals to her repertoire. It was even easier to continue her personal metaphor, listening to Maggie moan as she rubbed her flower-clit and fingered her flower-pussy. Before she reached her peak, she jumped to a different flower, starting fresh in a new cunt. The broken sound Maggie made with her bark made her gut twist itself in horny knots.

Candice twirled around the base of the carpels and stamens, teasing it before using all five fingers to stroke it to the top. Maggie arched off the bed, branches trembling in ecstasy. Candice tried to keep her there, fucking this one a little rougher. Careful not to damage her delicate flower-pussy, she flicked the carpals, raked her fingers along the petals, pressed into her stamens hard. Maggie trembled harder, moaning crazily. Candice smiled to herself, imagining the flower was a leaking hole. A sweet, aching cunt, sticky and wet from her fucking and desperate for more.

“C-Candice—” Maggie sobbed, clamping down on her leg.

“Are you—” she started to ask, but completely forgot what she was going to say.

All down Maggie’s body, she leaked sticky amber tree sap. Her face, her arms, her torso, her legs, all of it oozing through cracks in her bark and dripping down her slender frame.

“Gods, are you serious?” Candice breathed. She wished she had taken her pants off earlier, clit leaking pre-cum freely.

Maggie nodded, creaking out a whimper. “M-more.”

It was impossible to resist that.

Candice used her pinky to fuck one flower, and stretched her hand as far as it could go. She just barely planted her thumb in the center of another, and did the best she could to fuck two at once. Maggie shook and moaned, and—fuck, she leaked more sap. A huge glob pushed through her cheek, glistening as it slid across her face. Unable to resist, Candice bent down and sucked it off.

They both moaned that time. The sap was sticky and thick and tasted as citrus-sweet as her flowers smelled. Candice jumped to another pair of flowers, this time close enough that she could fuck them both without stretching too much. She used her free fingers to tease her petals, and kissed another glob of sap off her face. A sticky, glistening Maggie writhed, spreading her sweet wetness all over the cushion. Candice whined and slid down to lick some off her neck.

“You taste so good,” she whispered, her tongue thick and sticky.

“H-haa-a—”

Candice worked double-time on her flowers. She fucked at least two at any time, using her other fingers to stroke the curve of her petals. When three flowers lined up close enough, she fucked all of them, using her middle finger as the point of the triangle. She wasn’t sure if Maggie could come, or if the sap was her coming, but she hadn’t been told to stop yet, so she kept it up.

Gods, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to—watching her whole body leak was so sexy it made her wonder why they hadn’t fucked months ago. The only thing keeping Candice from licking her up from head to toe was that she knew Maggie wanted her flower-pussy railed. She needed to be fucked in her dozens of cunts, needed every one of her clits teased until she screamed, she needed Candice to fuck her so bad she was begging for it in public.

So she fucked Maggie hard. She fingered the curve of every petal she could reach, flicked her carpals, rubbed her stamens, she fucked each flower like it was its own sopping wet pussy. And in a way, it was. As Candice fucked her a dozen times, she moaned brokenly, trembled with lust, and drooled sap across every inch of her body.

When Candice lost track of which flowers she’d fucked and which were neglected, Maggie grabbed her arm and pushed it aside. Even her hands were sticky with sap.

“You okay?” Candice asked.

“D-done,” she stammered.

“Done it is.”

Candice peeled off the glove and set it on the arm of the couch. She turned back and admired the mess Maggie was, laying in a shallow pool of her own sap, and still covered in it. She laid down, propping her head up on her folded arm so her hair wouldn’t get caught in the sap.

“Did I do a good job?” she asked.

“Mhm,” Maggie mumbled. Her eyes were dim with exhaustion. “Much better than bees.”

Candice smiled softly, reaching out to swipe her sticky cheek. “Does this stuff just happen, or is this your version of an orgasm?”

“What’s orgasm?”

Well, that answered that question. Candice licked the sap off her fingers. “I can show you what mine is. Or we can do it another time, I get it if you’re too tired.”

She grabbed her hand with a sticky branch. “No, no, I wanna see.”

“Okay, I’m going!”

Candice flopped onto her back and finally, finally, wiggled her pants off. She kicked them over the couch, shivering as the air rushed over her naked body. As predicted, her clit leaked pre-cum at a steady rate. Her pubes were sticky, and so were her inner thighs, all coated in a thin layer of her wetness. Her clit was soft, too, as her erections had been short lived for years, a warm bundle of sensitive skin. She breathed, trying to relax.

“There are a lot of different ways to do human sex,” she explained. “It just depends on what you like to do, and who you like to do it with.”

“What do you like?” Maggie asked.

She opened her mouth to explain, then thought better of it. “I’ll show you.”

Candice sat up and leaned against the arm of the couch. She spread her legs, a blush rising to her cheeks again, but she swallowed it down. Maggie rolled onto her side to see better, watching with genuine curiosity. She swallowed.

“So, I guess I should tell you all the parts. This is my clit, or clitoris.” She picked it up, cradling it in her hand. “There are other words for it, but mine is a clit. It’s my main pleasure-thing, and it’s also where the uh… seed comes out.”

“Like a stamen?”

“Yeah, sort of.” She flipped her clit up to lay on her stomach, and cupped her sack next. “These are… there’s not really a sexy way to say it, they’re balls. Testicles. This is where the cum—the seed is stored, before it comes out. I don’t really use them for that, though.” She curved her fingers around the round shape of one ball. “Instead, I do this.”

Candice could do this easily, but went slow for the benefit of her audience. She pushed the testicle inside her sack up inside itself, gently pressing it up and folding it inside. Like a pocket turned inside out, she pushed the testicle and then her sack back into her inguinal canal, and sighed at the familiar feeling of being full of herself. She followed it with her fingers, pressing up into the inguinal ring—into one of her cunts. She kept her thumb against the bulge of her testicle in her abdomen, keeping it in place.

“Like this,” she breathed, almost forgetting to speak.

“What does it feel like?” Maggie asked, creeping forward to get a closer look.

“I think it feels good.” Candice used her other hand to form her other cunt, much faster for the sake of getting it done. She whimpered a little. “Feels… full and warm.”

“What do you do now?”

She laughed breathily. “Well, now, I fuck myself.”

Candice gently rubbed her fingers around in her cunts, against the entrances of the tight rings. She shuddered and sighed, treating herself like she just treated Maggie. Soft, but firm. A delicate touch, but still a fuck. Luckily for her, her cunts were not as delicate as a flower. She moved her fingers in and out, properly fucking herself from both sides.

Maggie watched her finger her cunts with rapt attention. Most of her flowers had closed, exhausted from their fucking, but a few remained open. Candice watched Maggie watch her, and her legs spread wider on instinct. She wanted her to see, to learn about human fucking just like she’d learned about dryad fucking.

She fucked a little faster, pausing with one hand to give herself more room. With one hand, she fucked her cunt, in and out, fingering herself until she whimpered and bit her lip. With the other, she massaged the entrance, her inside walls, the bulge in her stomach. Candice squirmed for her own touch, fucking and caressing both. She fingered herself as deep as she could and moaned, curling her toes on the couch. Her clit leaked freely over her stomach, pre-cum sliding down her body like Maggie’s sap.

“Can I try?” Maggie asked, scooting even closer.

“S-sure,” she breathed. “You might n-need to clean off the sap first.”

With a wave of her hand and a magical shimmer, the mess of sap evaporated from the couch and from Maggie, leaving them both spotless. Candice was a little disappointed, but that wasn’t important. She clenched her stomach, like she did when she used to tuck, and took one of her hands out. Maggie scooted forward, staring down at her crotch like it were as delicate as her petals.

“Gimme your hand,” Candice said. Maggie placed her fingers into her palm. The ends of her fingers were blunt, like sticks that had been snapped off at the end. No pointy bits, good sign. The wood might be rough, but she already liked that. “I’m going to put you inside me, okay?”

“Do I need to be careful?”

“Generally, yeah. I’ll let you know if something hurts.”

Her fingers were so thin that Candice easily guided three of them inside her with barely a stretch. The wood was scratchy, especially on such a sensitive area, but when it grazed her skin it felt good. Good enough to have her chest heaving, eyelashes fluttering, and Maggie staring at her.

“What now?” she asked.

“You can move,” Candice managed, “if you want. Or you can just rub it around. Both are good. And I’ll do mine.”

She nodded and Candice went back to fucking herself. Without the barrier of her own hand, she could pull out farther and fuck herself deeper. She groaned for herself, and then gasped. Maggie’s fingers ground against the inside of her cunt as she moved them out slowly. She pushed them back, another gentle scratch against the most sensitive parts of her. Candice whimpered.

“Does it hurt?” Maggie asked, sounding worried.

“Not enough that I want you to stop,” she replied. “Keep going, please.”

She obliged, fingering her cunt gently. Candice, on the other hand, fucked her other cunt with all the pent up arousal she’d been stewing in. She pressed against her walls, circled the tight ring of her entrance, pressed her fingers up as high as she could. It was contrasting erotic torture the way Maggie carefully made love to her. The wood of her branches felt like a rough, raw fuck, but her gentle press was anything but rough. Maggie pressed into her slow and deep, and pulled out so carefully that she felt every inch leave her cunt. It made her legs tremble, and she needed more.

Candice used her free hand to rub her leaking clit, stroking it as fast as she fucked herself. She whimpered, hot and wet and aching, chasing her climax with reckless abandon. Maggie pressed her fingers in so deep—she bucked her hips and moaned.

“More, more, keep going,” she begged.

“Can I do this too?” Maggie asked, pointing at her clit.

Candice just nodded and she got the hint. Maggie wrapped her hand around Candice’s, and they stroked her soft clit together. It was slower than she wanted—it was agony—but she let it happen, too desperate to say no to anything. She fingered herself slower, too, matching pace with Maggie’s careful lovemaking.

Her whole body felt connected. The two of them fucking her cunts, sliding her wet clit in their hands, it tied all of her pleasure together into a tight knot at the base of her spine. Candice hung her mouth in a silent moan, watching the way they fucked her together, deliberate and deep. Her thighs quaked.

“Fuck,” she whispered, “Fuck, fuck, I’m close.”

“Close to what?”

Candice came with her mouth wide open, moaning and arching her back. Her clit spurted a little clear cum, throwing the glob onto her chest. After a moment of ecstasy, she relaxed and let her hands drop. Maggie followed her lead, pulling away.

“Th-that’s an orgasm,” Candice breathed.

“Oh,” she said. Another flower bloomed. “I liked it.”

She laughed a little. “Hey, me too.”

With a little help from magic, Candice cleaned up and readjusted herself. In the aftermath, they laid on the couch together, Maggie holding her close against her bark chest. Candice didn’t hear a heartbeat, laying where one would have been, but she smelled like lemons and wood. It was a good trade off.

“Sooo,” Candice started, “are we dating now, or what?”

Maggie hugged her. “I would like it if we were.”

She smiled. “Me too. I guess this is our first date, then.”

“Oh, I guess so.” She covered her face with a hand. “What an intense first date…”

“We can do something more relaxing next time. Like… take a nap or something.” Candice snuggled into her neck. “Starting now.”

Maggie laughed her creaky wooden laugh. “Goodnight, Candice.”

Candice smiled, closed her eyes, and dreamt of pretty white flowers.

-

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[acti-veg]

‘When sea turtle hatchlings emerge from their nests, they crawl away from the dark shapes of dune vegetation toward the brighter oceanic horizon. But lit roads and beach resorts can steer them in the wrong direction, where they are easily picked off by predators or squashed by vehicles.

In Florida alone, artificial lights kill baby turtles in the thousands every year. They’ve wandered into active baseball games and, more horrifyingly, abandoned beach fires. The caretaker of one property found hundreds of dead hatchlings piled beneath a single mercury-vapor lamp.

Artificial lights can also fatally attract insects and might be contributing to their alarming global declines. A single streetlamp can lure moths from 25 yards away, and a well-lit road might as well be a prison. Many of the insects that gather around streetlamps will likely be eaten or dead from exhaustion by sunrise. Those that zoom toward vehicle headlights probably won’t last that long. The consequences of these losses can ripple across ecosystems and into the day.

In 2014, as part of an experiment, ecologist Eva Knop installed streetlamps in seven Swiss meadows. After sunset, she then prowled these fields with night-vision goggles, peering into flowers to search for moths and other pollinators. By comparing these sites to others that had been kept dark, Knop showed that the illuminated flowers received 62 percent fewer visits from pollinating insects. One plant produced 13 percent less fruit even though it was also visited by a day shift of bees and butterflies.

It's not just the presence of light that matters but also its nature. Insects with aquatic larvae like mayflies and dragonflies will fruitlessly lay their eggs on wet roads, windows, and car roofs, because these reflect horizontally polarized light in the same way as bodies of water. Flickering lightbulbs can cause headaches and other neurological problems in humans, even though our eyes are usually too slow to detect these changes; what, then, would they do to animals with faster vision, like insects and small birds?’

-Ed Yong, An Immense World

[thelovebudllc]

How to Properly Light the Outdoors to Help Birds and Other Pollinators

But there is a very simple solution. “We can reverse impacts [of artificial light] quickly, largely by being more thoughtful about how, why, and when we use outdoor lighting,” says Joyce. DarkSky International, an organization dedicated to “restoring the nighttime environment and protecting communities from the harmful effects of light pollution” offers five key principles that are simple for all…

[notwiselybuttoowell]

War zones, microplastics and street lights are among the emerging threats to the bee population, according to scientists.

Bee experts have drawn up a list of the 12 most pressing threats to the pollinator over the next decade, published in a report, Emerging Threats and Opportunities for Conservation of Global Pollinators, by the University of Reading.

Increasing war and conflict around the world is harming bees, the scientists warn. This includes the war in Ukraine, which has forced countries to grow fewer crop types, leaving pollinators without diverse food throughout the season.

The researchers found microplastic particles were contaminating beehives across Europe, with testing from 315 honey bee colonies revealing synthetic materials such as PET plastic in most hives. Artificial light from street lamps has been found to reduce flower visits by nocturnal pollinators by 62%, and air pollution has been found to affect their survival, reproduction and growth.

Antibiotics, used in agriculture, have made their way into beehives and honey. They have also been found to affect the behaviour of pollinators including reducing their foraging and visits to flowers. Pesticide “cocktails” also play a significant and emerging role; although some pesticides are now regulated to be kept below “safe” limits for bees and other wildlife, research has found they can interact with other chemicals and cause dangerous effects.

Prof Simon Potts of Reading University, the lead author on the report, said: “Identifying new threats and finding ways to protect pollinators early is key to preventing further major declines. This is not just a conservation issue. Pollinators are central to our food systems, climate resilience and economic security. Protecting pollinators means protecting ourselves.”

The authors have called for a number of measures to protect bees, including stronger laws limiting antibiotic pollution that harms bee health, transitioning to electric vehicles to reduce air pollution affecting pollinators, creating flower-rich habitats within solar parks, and breeding crops with enhanced pollen and nectar for better pollinator nutrition.

The report’s co-author Dr Deepa Senapathi, also from the University of Reading, added: “It will take effort from everyone to address these threats. We need to maintain, manage and improve our natural habitats to create safe spaces for pollinators. Individual actions like providing food and nesting areas in our own back gardens can help in a big way. But policy changes and individual actions must work together so everything from gardens and farms to public spaces and wider landscapes can all become pollinator-friendly habitats.”