#landmark day

[yeahiwasintheshit]

YAYYY!

[vinyls-and-valentines]

There are whispers of things before Battery City.

Of stubby buildings not unlike the skyscrapers modern citizens proudly call home and safety, but adorned with flimsy wood and glass cut-outs, or plaster casts that range from vain to downright obscene. Of wilderness, untamed, smothering clean and orderly neighbourhoods in an onslaught of burrowing roots, web-woven branches, and leaves serving as nothing more than breeding grounds for pests.

The bones of what once were giants now rest on the outskirts of town, hollowed and forgotten, like stalwart reminders of hardship overcome through ambition and human ingenuity. Yet, if one were to take a closer look at these remains, they would find little to no proof of any of the above: no scars left in the pavement or shattered stone ornaments— only scortched earth, shattered glass tinted by years of grime and canned paints amongst pieces of plastic all strewn about and shriveled up in shame.

Instead, the truth lives in glimpses caught between the pages of tattered journals, lost family albums, and long-overdue history books. There once were museums where Battery City now stands. Churches, libraries, and synagogues. Broadcast stations and astronomical observatories. There were post offices and schools, and houses older than the ages of everyone you've known combined, none of which still standing in the age of Progress and Valor (or more aptly known as the Danger Days).

What remains of the past now rests alone and dejected, a warning lost beneath the waves: Make yourself insignificant enough, and maybe one day you'll get yourself to believe comformity will lead you to survival.

[stuckinapril]

Baghdad moodboard 🇮🇶🤍

[skunkes]

[rookflower]

i like crowpool as a narrative setpiece (less because of what it is and more because of what it sets up) and there's no issue if you are a fan, but i'm honestly confused by HOW many people are genuinely actively invested in it as a romance or make aus where it went well, because out of all the bland forbidden romances in warriors i think that is the one where they have the leeeast chemistry? and where the utter failure of it is the most interesting part?

[justplaggin]

finally stepped foot on the sacred grounds of miraculous ladybug

[kaelula-sungwis]

A rainy day in Krakow by Vagelis Pikoulas

[rabbitcruiser]

Free Road Ahead

What do you think about my pic?  

[mountrainiernps]

Mount Rainier National Park Archives Photo of the Sunrise Day Lodge in 1932.

The Sunrise Day Lodge was built by the Rainier National Park Company (RNPC) in 1931. It was originally intended to be a much larger lodge similar to the Paradise Inn, but only one wing of the original design was constructed. Despite this, its large size, steeply pitched roof, and shingled exterior immediately attracts visitors arriving to Sunrise.

Mount Rainier National Park Archives Photos: Aerial view of Sunrise in the 1930s showing the cabins behind the lodge (left) and the cabins covered in snow in the spring (right).

Historically the lodge provided services to 215 overnight cabins with a cafeteria and concessionaire employee housing. The cabins were located on the meadow slopes behind the lodge. During World War II, tourism declined, and the concessionaire struggled to maintain funds. In an effort to offset their debt, the RNPC sold all the cabins at Sunrise for government defense installations as a part of the war effort and the structures were removed from Sunrise in 1944. However, the cabin’s linear rows left an indelible imprint on the fragile soil of the subalpine meadows. It took decades of natural growth and replanting to recover the area and some traces can still be seen on the slope behind the lodge.

NPS Photo of the Sunrise Day Lodge in 2015.

The Sunrise Day Lodge is a contributing structure to the Mount Rainier Historic Landmark District. It still serves day visitors with a cafeteria/gift shop and has concessionaire employee housing. Have you stopped in the Sunrise Day Lodge during the summer?

[misterlemonztenth]

Mesa Arch Panorama by dfikar Via Flickr: Fifteen shot panorama (five 3-shot brackets) stitched in PS6

[nickysfacts]

Taj Mahal is a monument not only dedicated but literally born out of true love!🇮🇳

💎💜👑

[katisconfused]

It's been a long time now, where have you gone? Did you find a new adventure?

[mirmoonight]

Ah to go back to Sicily - the dream.

[lilacandladybugs]

ive been able to go to church recently

[ramenheim]

Etrian Odyssey Heritage Post:

[castillon02]

Fried Pie at the Flying J

Angela put her phone down and looked alive behind the counter. The suits who had just come in were different than her usual run of weathered old Texans, although they had the familiar road-stunned look of long driving in the past and long driving ahead, same as most people who came into the Flying J. People liked to stop here in this place so deep on the highway. The gas was reasonable and the food was good. If you had time to stop and eat, the attached Denny’s had the cleanest bathrooms for fifty miles, but she figured that wasn’t what these guys were after.

Sunglasses Suit---he hadn’t bothered to take off his designer shades when he came in---made a beeline for the door that wasn’t to the Denny’s, and he put his hand on the other suit’s arm when the man made to follow him. “Hang on. You won’t want to go in there.”

“Hmm? Why?” Ooh, a British accent!

Sunglasses Suit jerked his head at the sign on the door: The Original Fried Pie Shop.

“Oh.” British Suit made a face. Rude. Don’t knock ’em till you try ’em, bud. Especially if you’re from England. Even Angela had seen enough TV to know about bangers and mash. (Her opinion? Needs more barbecue sauce.)

“They’re basically empanadas,” Sunglasses Suit said, sounding defensive. 

“I dare you to tell Camille that,” British Suit replied, arching his eyebrows. The hint of playfulness lightened his old boot of a face, made him look suddenly handsome.

“No deal,” Sunglasses said, maybe ruefully. “Anyway, Mama liked them, so---” He swallowed. The past tense hung heavy in the air. Poor fella. He had a black shirt on beneath his black suit jacket, and now that looked more like funeral-wear than Johnny-Cash-wannabe.

British Suit briefly put his hand on Sunglasses’s shoulder.

Sunglasses cleared his throat. “Anyway, just stay out here and find something that will suit your picky palate.” He went in to buy some pies---which, yeah, were basically empanadas, but with fruit in them. Or meat. Or cheese and pizza sauce. The Original Fried Pie Shop didn’t discriminate when it came to fillings.

British Suit perused the aisles---something military in his walk, hard to peg what. He ignored the candy and the Hostess stuff, stopped in front of the nuts and jerky, and stared with what might have been horror at the hot food station.

Angela pursed her lips. Sure, their jumbo breakfast burritos weren’t exactly gourmet, but she had made them fresh only two hours ago! And there was always the breakfast croissant if the guy missed Europe so bad. Jeez, wait until he got a load of what they had at the Exxon. “Can I help you, sir?” she asked with her most professional cheerfulness.

British Suit turned and approached her. “Angela,” he said, his eyes glancing off her name tag, “I’m afraid I don’t know what a ‘tater tot’ is and why it should be in a burrito.”

Angela eyed him. Bless his heart. Was he serious? “Fried grated potatoes. They add crunch,” she said, and added with sweet vengeance, “Would you like a free sample?” She wanted to see his judgy British face when he found out they were good. 

Sunglasses Suit chose that moment to exit with his bag of pies. “Come on, Bond,” he said. “I got you beef and vegetable. Don’t pretend you don’t eat beef pies in the motherland.”

British Suit, Bond, smirked at her. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get that sample,” he said, flashing his eyes up and down at her.

Jesus Christ. Had he somehow turned a tater tot into an innuendo? And was she really thinking that it was a shame she’d missed out?

Bond turned away from her. “Got what you needed, Felix?”

Sunglasses Suit, Felix, nodded. “Yeah. It’ll be good to---you know, the family will appreciate it,” he said. “Anyway---come on. Burnin’ daylight,” he added, his accent heavier than it had been. More familiar than it had been.

A small-town boy, Angela realized, who’d grown up and left for the big wide world like so many kids around here did. Had his mama driven him to DFW to send him off to college, and they’d stopped for pies on the way? How often had he come home after that, in between traveling the world and making friends with British folk? 

Well, Felix was here now, and he’d remembered the pie. There was probably a good son under that suit, buried deep, in the same place he kept the accent. She worked in a gas station in the middle of nowhere---she saw every day that some things buried deep were worth coming back to, even if it was an effort to get there.

Less of an effort when you had company, at least. She was glad this Felix had someone with him---even if it was that weird Bond guy.