#soil fertility tips

[farmerstrend]

Understanding NPK Analysis in Different Types of Manure: A Guide for Farmers

Manure is one of the most cost-effective and environmentally friendly fertilizers available to farmers. However, not all manure is created equal. Understanding the nutrient composition—commonly expressed as NPK (Nitrogen, Phosphorus, Potassium)—is crucial for optimizing crop yields and soil health. Here’s a detailed breakdown of the NPK analysis for common types of manure, along with…

[agricarecorp]

Agricare Corporation at Flower Fest, Central Park, Connaught Place – March 1-2! 🌿 Join us and explore the best in plant nutrition, tools, and garden care solutions. Get expert gardening tips and discover how to make your garden greener and healthier. 🌱✨ Visit us and let’s grow together! 🌿💚 #Agricare #FlowerFest #ConnaughtPlace #Gardening #PlantCare #GreenLawn #LawnCare #OrganicFarming #GardenTools

[honestlanscape]

Know Your Soil: Fertilization Tips for Every Soil Type

India is a country with a rich farming tradition. Here, we have many types of soil that help grow different crops. By using the right farming methods and natural (jaivik) fertilizers for each soil type, farmers can grow more crops and keep the soil healthy for many years. This way, farming becomes better, and the land stays good for future generations.

So how can you improve fertility to your farm soil?

Let’s see nature of soil and its fertilization tips: 

Black soil or Regur or cotton soil

Black soils are characterised by a thick, dark-coloured soil and it is rich in humus. Black soils are extremely fertile and can produce high agricultural yields due to their elevated moisture storage capacity. Black soils are rich in iron, lime, calcium, potassium, aluminum and magnesium.

Crops: Cotton, Jowar, Wheat, Groundnut,Tobacco.

Deficiency: Nitrogen, Phosphorus, Organic matter.

Tips to fertilise black soil

Avoid Over-Watering: Black soil retains moisture well; over-irrigation can lead to waterlogging.

Crop-Specific Fertilization: Tailor fertilizer applications to the specific nutrient needs of crops like cotton, soybeans, or cereals.

pH Management: If soil pH exceeds 8, Use organic materials like mulch, pine needles, sphagnum peat moss, compost, and coffee grounds. For lower alkalinity.

Farmyard Manure (FYM): Enriches organic matter and microbial activity.

Vermicompost: Improves soil structure and nutrient availability.

Green Manure Crops: Legumes like gomutra or sun hemp fix nitrogen and improve organic content.

Compost:Homemade or commercial compost provides a balanced nutrient supply.

Read More:Vermicomposting

Red soil and Yellow soil

Red soil is rich in iron oxide, giving it a characteristic reddish color. When red soil is fully hydrated it becomes yellow in colour. It has a sandy to loamy texture, good drainage, and low natural fertility. Its pH value varies from 4 to 8.

Crops: Wheat, Pulses, Millets, Potatoes, Vegetables. Deficiency: Limited organic matter and low nitrogen, phosphorus, humus and potassium levels. Proper fertilization can greatly enhance its productivity.

Tips to fertilise Red soil?

Erosion Control: Use contour farming, mulching, or terracing to prevent topsoil loss.

Moisture Management: Use cow dung to retain moisture, as red soil drains quickly.

pH Balance: If the soil is highly acidic, apply lime to neutralize acidity.

Farmyard Manure (FYM): Add 8–10 tons/acre to improve organic matter.

Vermicompost: Improves soil texture and adds slow-releasing nutrients.

Green Manuring: Leguminous crops like gomutra or dhaincha (one type of plant)fix nitrogen and enrich the soil.

Alluvial soil

Alluvial soil is fertile soil deposited by rivers, making it one of the most agriculturally productive soils. It is found extensively in river basins and plains. Alluvial soils are suitable for agriculture because they are rich in minerals like potash, phosphoric acid, and lime. Crops: Rice, Wheat, Sugarcane, Tobacco, Maize, Cotton, Soybean, Jute, Oilseeds, Fruits and vegetables.

Deficiency: Nitrogen, Humus, and Organic matter

Tips to fertilise Alluvial soil?

Crop Rotation: Alternate between nitrogen-depleting crops (e.g., rice) and nitrogen-fixing crops (e.g., legumes).

Erosion Control: Prevent soil erosion by planting cover crops or using mulching techniques.

Irrigation Management: Leverage the soil’s good water retention but avoid overwatering sandy areas.

Soil Testing: Perform regular soil tests to ensure appropriate fertilization based on nutrient levels.

Fish meal: Rich in nitrogen, phosphorus, and trace elements like calcium, magnesium, and iron.apply 100–150 kg per acre, especially for crops like vegetables, rice, and oilseeds.

Cow Dung and Cow Urine: Cow dung provides a balanced mix of nutrients and organic matter.Cow urine acts as a natural growth stimulant, improving soil fertility and pest resistance.

Desert soil or arid soil

Desert soil is found in arid and semi-arid regions where rainfall is minimal. It has unique characteristics that limit its fertility, but with proper management, it can support specific vegetation types and even agriculture.It also has high levels of calcium carbonate and phosphate.

Crops: Barjara, Jowar, Lentils, Dates, Figs, Oilseeds.

Deficiency: Low moisture, nitrogen, organic matter and other elements like Mg, k, Fe etc.

Tips to fertilise Desert soil?

Rain water harvesting: Store rainwater to irrigate and supplement soil moisture.

Drip Fertigation: Apply water-soluble fertilizers through drip irrigation to reduce wastage and improve nutrient uptake.

Mulching: Cover soil with organic mulch (Organic residues like date palm leaves or other desert vegetation) to conserve moisture, reduce evaporation, and improve nutrient availability.

Crop rotation: Alternate cereal crops with legumes to improve nitrogen content.

Agroforestry: Plant drought-tolerant trees (e.g., Prosopis, Acacia) to enhance soil fertility and reduce erosion.

Soil testing: Conduct soil analysis to identify deficiencies and tailor fertilization accordingly.

Animal-Based Fertilizers: Camel dung, sheep manure, or goat manure (locally available in desert regions).

Peaty soil

Peaty soil is a type of soil that contains a high percentage of organic matter and is typically found in waterlogged and marshy areas. It is dark in color, soft, and spongy due to the accumulation of decomposed plant material over time.

Crops: Rice, Oats, Peas, Lentils, Grams (chickpeas), Soybeans, Barriers.

Deficiency: Potassium, Micronutrient, Magnesium, Calcium, Nitrogen.

Tips to fertilise Peaty soil?

Lime application: Use lime to neutralize acidity and improve pH.

Crop selection: Grow acidic tolerant crops like tea, barriers and root vegetables or crops that thrive in wet conditions, such as paddy rice.

Wood ash: Supplies potassium and reduces acidity.

Bio-fertilizer: Use nitrogen-fixing bacteria(e.g., Rhizobium) and phosphate-solubilizing bacteria to enhance nutrient availability. you can also use Advance jivamrut.

Conclusion

Soil is a living system like any other organism cell develops and undergoes degradation. Soil degradation happens due to soil erosion. If treated in time, it can be saved from degradation and harvested again. choose right fertilization to improve your soil quality. In this blog we can apply tips and make soil fertile.

[naturallivinginsider]

Composting 101: Turning Waste into Fertile Gold

Discover the basics of composting and learn how to turn organic waste into nutrient-rich, fertile gold for a healthier garden. 

https://www.naturallivinginsider.com/ilof

[planthouseandgarden]

How to Care for Philodendron Fuzzy Petiole?

Philodendron Fuzzy Petiole is a captivating, relatively new species in the Philodendron family. This tropical beauty, thought to be a form of Philodendron nangaritense, is known for its lush foliage and unique fuzzy petioles. Native to the Amazon rainforest in countries like Brazil, Colombia, Ecuador, and Peru, it thrives in warm, humid environments, making it ideal for indoor plant lovers who…

[bharatvarsh22]

In the world of organic farming, soil health is of utmost importance. Organic farmers understand that healthy soil is the foundation for a successful and sustainable farm. Soil that is rich in nutrients, microorganisms, and organic matter creates an ideal environment for plants to thrive and resist diseases and pests. However, maintaining soil health in organic farming requires careful and strategic soil management practices.

Do Visit: https://bharatvarshnaturefarms.com/soil-health-in-organic-farming/

[trendingarticles]

How to Propagate Snake Plant - Briefly Explain with Care Tips

Table Of Contents: About Snake Plant Benefits of Propagating Snake Plants Take Preparation before Propagation a Snake Plant Snake Plant Propagation Methods Snake Plant Care Methods Troubleshooting Common Issues Conclusion FAQs About Snake Plant In recent years, the snake plant (scientifically known as ‘Sansevieria trifasciata‘) get immense popularity as a houseplant. With its striking…

[farmerstrend]

A Comprehensive Farming Guide on Tomato Fertilization

Tomato farming in Kenya is one of the most profitable agricultural crops due to the growing demand for tomatoes in both local and international markets. With the country’s population expanding, the consumption of tomatoes, a staple in Kenyan dishes, has increased, making it a viable option for many farmers looking to diversify their farming activities. Kenya’s climate is suitable for tomato…

[jillraggett]

Plant of the Day

Sunday 23 February 2025

Not to be confused with Galanthus species (snowdrops) Leucojum vernum (spring snowflake, Agnes flower, spring-flowered snowflake) flowers in late winter. This bulbous perennial reaches 30cm in height, with glossy dark green leaves and erect stems with 1 or 2 bell-shaped, green-tipped white flowers. The plants thrive in 2.5cm in moderately fertile, humus-rich, reliably moist soil in full sun.

Jill Raggett

[alchemistc]

Tommy had a younger sister. Eight years apart, Tommy knows intimately what it's like to be the main caretaker to a little girl with a dead mom and a shitty dad.

He'll give the Buckley parents props for at least trying, later on down the line. He hasn't spoken to his dad in years. But he sees the look Maddie gets sometimes, the quiet little corner she retreats to when the Saturday Night title fight is Evan v Margaret and Phillip, and he knows that space, the cavernous echo: could I have done more? and this was never supposed to be my job and will I make this worse or better if I intervene? what raw nerves will I expose if I cut open my wrists to fertilize this soil?

They were good at hiding it, for a while. Evan on his okayest behavior, Margaret and Phillip refusing to rise to any bait like the polite suburban family they were - the kind that would move their grieving child across state lines and force her to keep a secret for decades so that she could never move on from it.

(He's been angry for Evan for years, now, but he's been angry for Maddie too, for himself, for the fucked up things you can never quite prepare for the people that gave you life do to you.)

He had a sister.

And she was bright, and beautiful, and full of laughter and love even when Dad couldn't be fucked to sign her permission slips (Tommy can still forge his father's signature, has it down more precisely than even his own) or buy her a new pair of shoes when the soles broke free and they pinched her toes in tight.

He had a sister. She'd been pissed at him, ten years old and landing brutal kicks to his shins the day before he left for training. She'd been pissed at him, sixteen and quietly sullen over the phone when he told her he was staying in LA. She'd been pissed at him, twenty-two and rudderless while he let her crash on his couch for six months in the shoe-box loft he'd called home.

And she'd loved him. God, she'd loved him. Idolized him: learned football and baseball just to be able to talk to him about the few interests he'd had that his father hadn't dismissed out of hand; always at his hip when he slapped together Kraft Mac and Cheese for dinner and snuck her lunch money at the end of the week when the groceries had dwindled.

He hasn't talked to his sister in years, either.

Maddie tucks herself into the space to his right, glances out over the lawn where Tommy has been sneaking the third cigarette he's allowed himself in the last ten years. She shifts her weight, watches the cherry bloom in the low dusk light. "You gonna share?"

Tommy tips his head to look at her. Digs into his chest pocket for the Reds he'd bought two days before the Buckley parents descended on LA for the wedding.

Maddie's an old pro, apparently, fingers comfortably slack as she lifts the offering to her mouth, glances at him for a light.

The lighter is ancient, still has a snippet of his grandfather's favorite poem etched into the sidewall, though it's worn down and hard to read. The metallic clink of opening and closing the lid, spark igniting on butane with a flick of his thumb, had gotten him through some of his worst nights in Afghanistan. Maddie sucks against the filter and the flame catches thin paper and packed tobacco.

She grimaces at the taste, but pulls, waits, blows smoke out her nose.

"You'd think the Buckley Bowl would calm down after the twentieth rematch," she remarks. She's white-knuckling the railing with her free hand.

"Your dad's gonna come out here in ten minutes wanting to shoot the shit about the Pirates July slump like he didn't accidentally imply he'd have preferred me for a son at brunch yesterday."

Maddie sighs. "They're not always like this. I - You've seen them. I just think. I think my first wedding was a brawl and my second didn't happen as planned and Buck hasn't given them any leeway to throw around their opinions and..."

"You don't have to defend them, you know," Tommy says, and - he's not as close with Maddie as he'd like, but they've talked about it, a little. How lucky she is that Evan hadn't ever lost faith in her, how lucky Evan is to have always had her in his corner. How unfair it had all been. "Not to me."

Maddie's lashes are wet, the corners of her eyes glistening. "They shouldn't do this. Every time, they do this."

"Well, the wedding does come with a devilishly handsome new ally against them," he reminds her, and her laugh is a little soggy, but her eyes sparkle as she takes him in. She takes a drag, does a piss poor job of trying to blow smoke rings. Her hand is tiny when it drifts over his forearm and squeezes.

"Well, soldier, I think we're the cavalry."

Tommy butts out his cigarette into the solo cup he'd set out next to the Adirondacks, an hour after he'd bought the pack, holds it out for Maddie to do the same. Her smile is still a little wet, but it's just as lovely as her. Tommy makes a note to hug her extra hard before she leaves at the end of the night.

"Once more unto the breach," Tommy quotes, and slides the patio door open to let her take point.

[tiredmamaissy]

Clingy Neteyam: part two

MDNI 🔞 adult!neteyam; dub con but not really?; exhibition kink; there’s a name for this kink but I can’t remember it for the life of me

continuation of this blurb

“Take me” The words echo in your skull, bouncing from one boney wall to the other - reverberating in the most melodic voice.

How could you not?

“Hurry up and fuck me then.” You mumble through gritted teeth, rolling onto the tips of your toes to position yourself just right to get fucked out.

“Yeah? Shit.” He huffs out a hoarse voice, thrusting so suddenly his cockhead slips past your tight opening and glides over your puffy clit. “So fucking wet I can’t even shove it inside you” He presses his cheek against yours as he gritts out the words, shaky and gruff from him jamming a hand between your private parts to reposition himself.

“Please.” You whine the word a little too pathetically, arching your back as much as you can to push your opening back onto his tip. It’s throbbing and swollen, his arousal so intense you can feel it in the way his cock thumps against you.

“Hah. What’s got you wound up? Hm?” He chuckles breathily, corner of his mouth pulling into a smirk. “Don’t tell me it was those two over there.” You glance to your right, witnessing the female Na’vi taking her mates knot with glee. “Gonna be a good girl for me and take my knot like that, yes? Fill you up?” He growls into the shell of your ear, using his tip to play with your sticky folds - teasing you until you’re light in the head.

Whilst he was partially right, seeing those two at it like they were both in heat ignited a flame in your core, but truthfully what got you so worked up was the way he wouldn’t take his hands off you. So needy. So clingy. You quickly turn your head away, dropping your gaze to your toes burying their way into the rich, fertile soil beneath you.

“Or is it just me? Is feeling my hands all over you like this making you all needy?” He husks directly into your ear, “All hot and-”

“Gonna keep talking or are you gonna fuck me?” You pant flush against the tree, writhing underneath him as you cut him off with a quick, breathy taunt. “‘Claim me’?”

“Fuck. Haa. I don’t know if you deserve it, little one.” He grunts, gripping the back of your neck to hold you still while he tries to slide himself inside you.

Eywa.

There’s just something about getting him so worked up as he tries to sink himself inside you to no avail. To the point where he’s panting heavy, hot breaths into your ear as he bends his knees to get a better angle, only for you to move a little to the left and have him lose any leverage he’s got on you. Every time you feel that mushroomy head poke at your entrance you’d straighten your spine and deny him the pleasure of your tightness.

“C’mon, mighty warrior. Fuck me already.” You giggle, slipping over to the right so his cock slides right past the base of your tail. Slick is smearing all over, leaving a glossy layer of your stickiness all over the both of you. You can tell he’s into it, all from the way he’s grunting and chuckling as he tries to pin you down and ram himself inside you. All from that smug look on his face. And the funniest part of it all -

You’re into this the most.

The one who was afraid someone would see. Yet now you’re here making this man work for it. Uttering unadulterated filth loud enough for anyone hear. Spreading and closing your legs to tease your mate who’s desperate for your tight, wet cunt. All while pinned to the first tree you backed up into when you tried to run away from it all. And when he caught you it only made the ache between your legs throb even more.

You smile to yourself, ears perking up when as your eyes glaze over with want. You hold still for a moment, tricking him into thinking he’s won. Into thinking he can finally fuck into you like an animal in rut. When you feel his swollen tip prod between your pussy lips, you feel his grip loosen around your neck. And that’s when you slip away, wrenching his hand off your hip and darting for the next tree.

He lets out a boisterous laugh as he quickly rakes his fingers through his swaying braids. His hand drops from his head to his thigh. He’s frustrated. Fed up. His laugh fades out into a growl, rumbling low in his chest as he immediately follows behind you, band of his loincloth flipping back up to sheathe his painfully hard cock, tip leaking precum into the thin cloth’s band. Lip folding over his bottom teeth, he bites down onto the thin flesh as he nears your small frame.

You look behind you, canines on full display from the way you’re grinning. Big mistake. He’s caught up to you now, hands splayed out to grab onto what he can as he pounces on you and knocks you to the ground before you can get to the next tree. Your grin grows wider, so wide it’s catching - spreading to his face as the predator finally catches his prey. He moves quickly, pinning you face down onto the floor by a hand to your head.

You’re writhing and squirming underneath him, hands tucked under your chest as you grind into him at a pace that is impermissible for him to have his way with you. He fights with you for a bit, one hand firmly securing your face to the floor and the other fighting with your lifting hips and closing legs. He’d spread your legs and push down your hips then reach for his tewng just for you to giggle and snap your legs closed before he can even pull it down.

“Fuck.” He huffs out, shuffling his knees closer to yours to wrench your legs open and keep them that way.

He pushes you further into the ground by the dip for your back, quickly moving his hand to tug down his loincloth just enough for his throbbing cock to flip up. And when you feel his warm bulge slap against your pussy, you stuck in a quick breath of air, now fighting with your own body as it tries to submit to him. Before you can even think about your next move, Neteyam slams his cock inside you in one hard thrust, stretching your gummy walls to full capacity before they can even adjust.

“Ugh - fuck yes.” You mutter under your breath as you finally feel him fill you up, eyes welling with tears of pleasure.

“Got you.” He growls through a smirk, beads of sweat rolling off his face onto your back. He glances down at you taking his thick cock, knot already emerging from now riled up you’ve gotten him. The feeling of him filling you up like this, pinned down with nowhere to go has your body submitting even more. His strength is unmatched, grip firm and unmoving. You can barely think, much less keep up with this little game.

“T-Teyam.” You moan shakily, straining to close your legs just for him to spread them wider.

You just want to give up and let him pound you. To rut into you like you’re nothing but a vessel for his seed. But you continue to fight with whatever strength you’ve got left - which isn’t much. He finds your futile efforts laughable - a little weak thing like you putting up such a fight.

“C’mon. Is that all you got into you?” He chuckles, sinking into you even deeper, growing knot pushing against the resistance of your tight hole. “I was just getting started.”

“N-Neteyam. Ple-ase.” You blubber out, feeling too much but not enough at the same time.

“Begging for it now, huh?” He pants, keeping still until his heaving chest calms down. “Tell me. Tell me what you want.”

—

Next part ->

This is a reupload my bad guys 😭 (also to the anon who sent in the question)

[planthouseandgarden]

Ludisia Discolor Care: The Complete Guide for Thriving Jewel Orchids

Ludisia discolor care is essential for keeping this captivating plant, thriving in any indoor plant collection. Also known as the jewel orchid, this remarkable orchid originates from Southeast Asia, primarily in regions like Malaysia and Indonesia. Unlike many other orchids, Ludisia discolor is prized not only for its delicate flowers but also for its stunning dark green foliage adorned with…

[bharatvarsh22]

The Importance of Soil Health in Organic Farming: Tips for Soil Management

In the world of organic farming, soil health is of utmost importance. Organic farmers understand that healthy soil is the foundation for a successful and sustainable farm. Soil that is rich in nutrients, microorganisms, and organic matter creates an ideal environment for plants to thrive and resist diseases and pests. However, maintaining soil health in organic farming requires careful and strategic soil management practices.

In this article, we will delve into the importance of soil health in organic farming and provide valuable tips for effective soil management. Whether you are an experienced organic farmer or just starting out, these tips will help you optimize your soil for optimal plant growth and yield. From incorporating organic amendments and compost to practicing crop rotation and cover cropping, we will cover a range of techniques to enhance soil fertility and structure.

Join us as we explore the key role soil health plays in organic farming and learn practical strategies for maintaining and improving the health of your soil. Together, we can nurture the earth and cultivate bountiful harvests in harmony with nature.

Continue Reading: https://bharatvarshnaturefarms.com/soil-health-in-organic-farming/

[the-californicationist]

Picking Flowers

@pricesugarwife left this amazing comment on one of my posts and i couldn't get it out of my head...

pricesugarwife: Nos complaces con un smut Hades!Price x Persefone!Reader??? *se arrodilla*

te amo griss!! espero que te guste esta historia que escribí para ti, nena. 🩷🩷

TW: rape/non-con/cnc elements, loss of virginity, corruption, very bad greek mythology knowledge (sorry, it's just make believe okay jeez)

In a grove in Hellas, long, long ago… 

Before you opened your eyes, you already knew what you would see. Slowly, as sleep fell away from you, like the warmth of a blanket being pulled away from your body, a heavy darkness giving way to light, you could see a warm, egg yolk glow behind your eyelids. The sun had cut a path through your windowpane, and now it cast itself like a spell, masking its burn over your face. When you opened your eyes, you would squint through your lashes, looking up through the green mottled leaves, neon, blinding, of the twisted yew outside of your window. You could smell your mother’s bread baking in her old dutch oven, hints of oregano and pepper wafting through your room, bringing the warmth of the hearth with them. You could almost taste the crispy crust, roasted to perfection, protecting the soft, textured middle. 

Finally, you peeked between your lashes, and before you, your self-made dream came true. The sun filtered in through your glass a little less bright than what you had imagined, but the greens were there, and they reminded you that today was your favorite day: the arrival of Spring. 

“Sephie! Are you awake?”

Your mother’s sing-song voice fluttered down the hall and tucked itself through the crack of your bedroom door. She always knew when you woke up, and although you’d never questioned it, you had to admit it was uncanny. You chalked it up to the wonders of motherhood. She seemed to know every other thing about you, so why question it?

“Yes, Mom. Coming!” You called back, your own voice a little stronger, a little less like a delicate lark, a little more like a robin. 

You were very much a late bloomer, still living with your mother at almost twenty years of age, especially when most of the girls in your village had suitors or proposals by sixteen. But, you didn’t let it bother you. As your mother was ready to remind you, the thread of your life was your own, and you would follow its path until the end, whether you wanted to or not. If Lachesis had measured your life out to be this way, then that was that. Why question it?

You pulled on your robes, woven on your family loom of the finest silk threads. You had begged your mom to add a tight spiral of cyclamen along the hem, the flowers so familiar, their pink heads watching you as you followed your daily path to the river. So, she had insisted that you try. You were well enough a woman now, and more than skilled enough to craft your own clothes. And you had; it had been easier than you thought, and you added a few glass beads in that same heart-shaped petal to the tips of the cord of your belt. 

You owned no looking glass, but you never noticed its absence. There was so much more to do than to stare at something you couldn’t change. Focus on what you can do, your mother’s voice haunted your mind, not on what is already done. Besides, your mother insisted that you were beautiful, so why question it?

“Here, my darling,” your mom tapped you under your chin, handing you a cloth satchel full of bread, fruit, seeds, and dried meats, “Before you go to the river, please check on the well. It should have clear water for you to fill this skin. Fill it again on your way home. Don’t forget.”

“I won’t, Momma. I promise.”

“That’s my good girl.”

You were out of the door and heading down the hill to the well before you knew it, the feel of the soft grass comforting your heels, cold and damp from the morning dew. The village below you was coming alive, its people tending to their new lambs, planting seeds in the black, fertile soil, carrying buckets of water to and from the olive groves, pruning the dead branches away from the new growth on each branch. Their bustle and laughter as they worked together made you long to live in town. But, your mother had insisted that the town and its people would just be a distraction, and you’d never experienced such a thing; why question it?

When you approached the well, you were alone. You let your hands trace their way along the rough, grey stones, feeling the familiar edge, reaching for the thick rope to pull up the bucket. The worn hemp gave way, and the echo of the old wooden bucket hitting the sides of the well rang out like shrouded bells. You reached for the handle of the bucket, pulling it up to the rim, carefully filling your waterskin, making sure not to waste a drop. You used the rest to wash your face and hands, letting the cool water soak into your cheeks, adding moisture back to your body after a long sleep. 

Suddenly, your eyes darted up to the treeline just beyond the well’s clearing. You thought you saw a shadow that stretched just a little too long, shaped just a little too wrong… but when you studied the dark spaces between the trunks, there was nothing but lush overgrowth. You packed your waterskin and tossed the bucket back into the water; you were eager to get down to the river. The light always played tricks on you in this glade, so why question it?

You walked quite a ways through the valley, using your fingers and the softness of your touch to coax the flowers to bloom and grow as you let your hand fondle its way through the tall grass. When you reached your river, you savored the sight. The way that it curved into a deep ox bow was your favorite thing. It was as if the river had carved out a small, circular stage just for you. In it, you worked on your crafts, practicing growing buds from seeds, trees from roots, ivy from the palm of your hand. Then, you sent it out, down the river towards town, making sure the village was well-shaded, well-fed, and well-protected from the elements. 

It was hard work, and you always slept after a long afternoon of using your magic, but your mother always said that no one else would be able to do a better job than you, so you kept at it, and it was the one thing you never questioned. 

This time, when you woke up from your nap, you knew you weren’t alone. As you sat up, you looked around, thinking that a striped kri-kri or a golden jackal would be nibbling at the food in your pack. But, sitting with his legs crossed, was a man dressed only in a dark blue chilton, the shoulder of which hung loosely around his waist as if he were a farmer who had been toiling in the field. He was no farmer. Not with those inhuman eyes of ice fire, pale and bright, glowing although the sun was at his back. His body was that of a giant, muscle-bound and heavy, full of power just rippling beneath the surface. He reminded you of the well. How deep did his strength flow? His beard and chest were furry but well-groomed, just like that of a nobleman. 

You greeted him, apologizing for your slumber,

“Good day, sir. Forgive my sleeping. I was just tending to my flowers, and I must have dozed off.”

“No trouble,” his smile came to him easily, and you enjoyed it, basking in it, “I enjoy watching you work. It is a gift to see it up close.”

He reached out his hand and plucked one of your most vibrant hyacinths from its stem, cradling your art in his huge hands. 

“Beautiful,” he purred, speaking of the flower but looking at you. 

“Thank you, sir. Can I offer you some bread or fruit from my pack? I carried clean water from the well this morning.”

“How generous you are,” his smile showed his straight, large teeth this time, and he tucked your own flower behind your ear, letting the delicate petals tickle your sensitive flesh.

You prepared a small piece of bread for him, decorating it with nuts and juicy lobes of fruit that you had carefully peeled with your hands, tearing off a piece of dried meat for him to try as well. You ate with him in companionable silence, watching him as he chewed. Whereas the kri-kri would have greedily gobbled up the bread from your palm, this man seemed unsurprised by it. What was a delicacy for some of Gaia’s creatures was a mere appetizer for others. But, it may be that he had much finer fare at home, so why question it?

“Do you live near to this glade, sir?” You asked, hoping to learn more about your handsome stranger. 

His hands peeled the delicate pith from the citrus lobe you had given him, expertly trimming it as if he had done it for a thousand mornings, knowing exactly how hard or easy he needed to pull the flesh for it to yield, feeding it into his mouth in a wet, juicy bite, letting the sweet nectar soak into his beard and become sticky. 

He chewed slowly, eyeing you carefully as he did, seemingly in no rush to answer your question. So, you tacked on another one, impatiently, 

“What should I call you?”

“I have been called many names,” he spoke, looking down at his hands, staring at his open palms as if to divine some sort of future before his eyes shot back to yours, pinning you where you sat.

“Hm,” you smiled, inching closer, pretending to get a better look at him, studying him like a statue at a temple, “You do not look like an Akakios, nor an Eirenaios…”

“No,” he chuckled, his laugh rolling like a volcanic crag inside of his throat, “I should think not.”

“I cannot imagine naming you Melanthios, though it fits your face,” you giggled.

“I’m not sure I appreciate that, little petal.”

His laugh was still jovial, so you pushed him further, 

“Perhaps Kleisthenes. Your strength is apparent, as is your status. Surely, that must fit you.”

You leaned back, biting off another chunk of bread, saving the crust for last, satisfied with your naming ritual.

He shook his head, 

“I’ll give you a hint. It’s very brief, or at least much less trouble than Kleisthenes.”

“Bion, then.”

“Mm,” he frowned a bit at the edges of his smile, “Quite the opposite in essence, I’m afraid.”

“Perhaps you are a foreigner. One of Troy, or Rome, even? Something brief, like John.”

“I am foreign enough to this land, so I suppose John is close enough,” he sighed, allowing you to finally take your win. 

You hadn’t realized how close you had drawn yourself into him. You were now near enough to smell the oils on his skin: laurel, salt, and something akin to tarnished silver. His hand reached out to touch the curls of your hair, carefully braided by your mother, entwined with small flowers and ivy stems to keep it off of your neck. But, after your nap, one lock had escaped and was now being delicately twirled in this man’s immense fingers. 

“And what should I call you, little flower? Marjoram is too serious for you. Iris, not serious enough.”

“Persephone,” you offered, unwilling to force him to endure the same naming torture you had just gone through. 

“Ah!” He gasped, leaning toward your face as if seeing you for the first time, “Persephone.”

Then, before you could even know what was happening to you, your lips were tasting his. He was cradling you in his arms, holding your limp body against his bare chest, the gold of his necklaces and armbands warm from his body heat as they pressed into your skin. He was kissing you, moving his mouth against yours, forcing your jaw to yield to him, to take his tongue into the hollow of your cheeks, to suck the citrus juice from it, the memory of his food still fresh on the muscle. 

You had never been kissed before, even though you had practiced on two of your fingers held tightly together, watching lovers sneak up to the well on hot days of work to do to each other what you longed for someone to do to you. It was so much more satisfying to feel another’s lips move against your own, nothing like the static, chaste practice you’d tried to mimic. 

Only now, after you were left gasping, feeling his hands wander along the edges of your chilton, his fingers beginning to dig into the loose gaps in the fabric, did you question whether you should be kissing this man or not. But, it felt too good to stop. 

John, or whoever he was, pulled away for a moment, and his eyes seemed to study your mouth, inspecting your plump, swollen lips as if something was wrong. You wrapped your hands around his neck to steady yourself, and he lay you back, letting your head be supported by the plush grasses beneath you. He spoke to you in a hushed whisper, even though no one was around for miles, 

“I have been watching you, Persephone. I see you growing your lush gardens, creating a world full of life, all for me to take. And I come back every autumn, when the sun is shy and the sky is dark, just to inspect all of the gifts you have given me,” he kissed you again, his hand finally snaking its way under the shoulder of your robes, peeling it down slowly to reveal your full breasts to the open air, “And I eat them up. All of them, and I take them home. I’ve been keeping them for you. All of your treasures from years past. They’re still there for you to see.”

Then, before you could ask him what he meant, his mouth latched onto the dark nipple of your breast, suckling at it like a babe. And then, very much not like a babe. Like something else. Like a wolf digging the marrow from a bone. Like an otter clawing at a clam, slurping up the tender meat inside. 

And then, he stopped. He sat up, holding you by the shoulders and helping you sit up with him, fixing your top so that you were covered again, dizzy and reeling from his attention, the wet skin of your aching nipples sticking to the silk fabric of your gown. 

“Sir, I…”

“Come with me, love,” he held out his hand, “Don’t you want to meet your old friends?”

You didn’t know what to say, but he seemed so friendly. There was a dark, twisted piece of wort inside of you, growing and twining itself around your belly that made you want to see if he might put his mouth on you again. It had been so lovely… Besides, you very much missed your old creations. You remembered hundreds and hundreds of seasons of creations you had made, trees and plants, fruits and flowers. It would be wonderful to be reminded of all of the things you had brought into the world. If he had kept them for you, it may even be rude to refuse his hospitality. He seemed so sure, so why question it?

So, you took his hand, and he led you through the earth, ripping at the dirt like a heavy veil, marching down into the darkness, leading you step after step down a winding, rocky staircase. Above your head, you saw the last bit of a ruby-colored sun, setting in the distance, illuminating the ceiling of roots and fungus that hung above you as you delved further into his depths. 

Then, your heart skipped a beat. You saw your river again, her wine-dark waters now black, curling in that same ox bow pattern, cutting the land in half. On one bank, the souls of the living waited to be ferried across, and on the other, fields and fields of your own flowers, frozen in time, neither growing nor dead, shrouded in darkness in the grey soil of the Underworld. 

He led you onward, towards his blue, gleaming castle, all of its walls made of shining glass, distorting the world outside, and concealing the one within. You marveled at the wide door, its ebon gate the only iron you could see, and all of the castle guards were the dead. Their lifeless eyes gray and cloudy, set inside of gaunt, bony faces, unseeing, unfeeling. You did not fear them, even though you were sure you were meant to. You knew them. You had made the food that fed them while they were alive. You had grown the trees and bushes that had sheltered them when they lay beneath your boughs, exhausted from their labor or their warfare. Who was afraid of an old friend?

Then, you watched your companion climb the long stair up to the throne of Hades, for that is who he was after all, and he sat on its plush seat, motioning for you to sit in an equally-crafted chair beside him. There was no difference between the two thrones. His was not higher, nor was it more elaborate. So, you sat, waiting to see what Hades wanted to show you. 

A delightful processional began, and you spotted some of your first flowers being brought to you on pedestals and pillows, you ooh’d and ahh’d at them, sharing stories and listening to Hades tell you all of his tales of how he brought them here to keep. How he’d waited so long for you to come and join him here, to rule in the Underworld beside him as its queen. 

“What do you think, love? My people are desperate for more of your creations. You are the only one who reminds them of home. They see your trees and your flowers, your fish and your fruits, and their souls finally know peace. Be my queen, rule beside me, help me put these souls to rest here in Elysium.”

“I am still a maid, sir,” you told him, “My mother is the one who would make that choice for me.”

He looked at you confused,

“You are a goddess most powerful. There is no one who can make choices for you. Even I am no match for your magic. I cannot bloom these fields.”

“When I return home, I will consult her wisdom, and she will help us marry.”

“Very well,” he sighed, “Perhaps you will at least allow me to show you the same hospitality as you have shown me. There is a feast that awaits you in my chambers. Will you join me, petal?”

You had no excuse. How could you refuse him the same thing you had provided. After dinner, you would return home and tell your mother about this handsome suitor.

You followed him from the throne room and entered his chambers, sitting on a wide lounge where platters of meat and fruit and honey in wide bowls waited for you to dig into them. You did not shy away now that you were in the comfort of his rooms, letting Hades sit beside you, as close as he could, feeding you berries and sweetmeats from his hands, dipping his fingers into your lips and letting you suck them clean, laughing and joking with you. 

He had done a poor job of tying your robe back onto your shoulder, and it kept falling down. Finally, when you were about to adjust it again, he stopped you, pulling it down even further to hang with the cord of your belt, letting your breasts hang free upon your ribs, heavy and full, sensitive from his earlier ministrations. 

“C’mere, love. Lay back and let me feed you. You must be so tired from your work today,” he murmured in your ear, allowing you to lay your back across his chest, his legs spread wide to allow you to sit between them.

You did as he bade, letting him feed you grapes dipped in honey, delicious fish and mussels, crab and octopus still cold and fresh. He ate, too, feeding you sometimes from his own mouth, bending to kiss you with sweet bites between his teeth. 

Then, when you had both had your fill, he used his hands to rub your sore muscles, easing the tension in your neck, down your shoulders, and then finally, he stopped,

“Alright, love. We should bring you back to Demeter. I’m sure she is waiting.”

“No,” you protested, ignoring the fact that he knew your mother’s name, “I mean… I thought we could stay a bit longer. I’m so full; a journey would be too arduous right now.”

“Oh?” He returned to petting you, letting his hands trace just outside of your breasts, fingers skating through your underarms and then up along the thin skin of your neck, “How should we occupy our time, my love?”

“Just… like this,” you let your hands wander to his strong thighs, massaging down his knees and calves, admiring the muscles there. 

“If that’s what you want, my love, then you shall have it. All that you want shall be yours,” his tone was dark in a way you had never heard from another person, but you felt so good, so why question it?

His hands were callused and warm as they covered your sensitive breasts, plucking at your nipples like the petals of one of your flowers, and you mewled from the pleasure, asking him for more and more and more.

Then, you felt his mouth on your neck, sucking and licking you, reminding you of how it felt when his mouth was on your tits, making your flesh tingle like the crackle of lighting, like the cold of the first swim of the season. 

So, you turned towards him, spreading your legs on either side of his hips, sitting proudly in his lap, hoping he would return his mouth to where it was needed. And he did. It was as if he read your mind, knowing you wanted him to suck and suck and suck against the softness of your skin, to use his tongue to press into the nub of your nipple, over and over until you felt your legs begin to shake as if you were shivering from the cold. 

“My pretty flower, it feels like you need something else, hm? What would you like? I will give you Olympus if you ask me for it.”

You weren’t sure what to ask for. When a flower asks to be picked, growing symmetrical and soft as it does, what does it know about the plucking? Only picked flowers know what they’re really asking for, don’t they?

“I don’t know… I just… I need…” You tried to make sense of your body’s wishes, and why you were rocking your hips back and forth, why you needed to feel something between your thighs. 

Hades’ smile widened, that dark beard pressed out of the way of his full mouth as it turned up into a grin, 

“How about this, hm?” 

He fumbled with your robes and his, and then you felt yourself sigh with relief when he placed some part of him between your legs, giving you something to rub against through your softest petals, wet with excitement and desire. You both sighed, and you could feel the heat of him as you rocked back and forth. It felt like his wrist, but then again, it didn’t. It was wide enough, but at the end, instead of a hand, it was the fleshy edge of another tongue, perhaps. Something that was licking your hole every time you passed over it. 

Eventually, everything was wet beneath you. His robes, your robes, his body, your body… it was a sticky, dripping mess. You had lost your breath, your heart beating out of your chest, your mind sparkling like a fire and then going blank like you had drank too much wine. Over and over, you felt everything and then nothing. It may have been hours, but you couldn’t tell. He didn’t seem like he was in a rush to be finished with your game, so you didn’t question it. 

“More, still?” He finally asked, kissing you on the mouth sweetly, sucking on the tip of your lolling tongue, “My greedy little flower…”

You weren’t sure what more there was. But, he showed you. This time, when you rocked back, he used his hand to notch himself at your hole, and if you pushed forward, you would have to press yourself onto him, to take him inside of yourself somehow. It was the same way you had used your fingers inside yourself to play in your bed or in your glade by the river, just touching yourself for the comfort of it. 

But, this was different. This was not comfort, it was magic. It felt like old magic, something from the world as it was before. And yet, he had promised you whatever you wanted, so you didn’t question it. 

As you slipped yourself over his fleshy knob, you experimented with your movements, rolling your hips back and forth, seeing how it felt to push him deeper and deeper inside of you, stopping when you felt like you were being stretched open. Then, you tried circles, turning your hips around and around as you sat in his lap, feeling him slipping deeper and deeper inside of you as you found your rhythm. 

He was busying himself with kissing you, or suckling from your nipples, but you could tell he was enjoying himself as much as you were. His grunting was that of a rutting deer, hoarse and loud. Finally, he reached some sort of limit, and he grabbed you, changing places, pressing you beneath him on the lounge, nearly ripping off your robes and his own, making you naked in front of him. 

Then, you saw what you had been using for your pleasure. His phallus stood tall and strong against his belly, ruddy and throbbing, shining with your wet nectar. You had never seen one up close, and when you cradled it in your hands, it felt alive, like it was separate from him even though its thick root was buried deep inside his body. 

Hades’ eyes glowed bright blue, his own magicks coursing within him, and he told you,

“Open your legs.”

So, you obeyed, entranced by his power and the feeling you were experiencing, weightless and floating in your own mind. He fed himself into you, as deep as you had gone and then deeper, not stopping when you hissed in a breath from the feeling of your muscles stretching beyond the point of comfort, delving far enough to cause pain. 

“Ahh!” You cried out, but he shushed you with his mouth, kissing you again and again, distracting you from the discomfort of his invasion. 

“That’s my good girl…” He praised you, just as your mother always did, for a job well-done or a chore checked off the list. 

But, you didn’t feel like you were doing a chore. In fact, you felt like you were watching him do one for you. His thrusting was violent and repetitive, his huge rod pounding into you with every snap of his hips, grinding his tip inside of you deeper and deeper. As you moved past the pain and back into a throbbing sort of pleasure, he looked as if he was taking your pain away from you in this ritual. His face was set in a grimace, his eyes ferocious and snarling, his voice growling and letting out only deep, throaty whines. 

So, you did what he had done for you. You kissed his furry chest and latched onto his soft nipple, listening to him cry out with a sudden shout. 

“Love, I can’t… ”

You didn’t know how to help him, so you kept sucking and sucking, hoping you would bring him the pleasure that you felt, that you might ease his pain. 

But, he grabbed your face in his huge hands, pulling you away from his chest, squeezing your cheeks to make your lips press into a helpless sort of pout. 

He growled down at you like a wounded animal,

“So beautiful. My queen. My perfect little flower.”

Then, you felt your body tumble into another one of your hypnotic phases; your muscles clenching, your toes curling, your breath neither coming in nor rushing out, helpless to your own reaction. 

“Unghff-fuck… that’s it. Persephone…” He looked at you with those eyes, the eyes of some unearthly being, the bright icy glow keeping you in that cyclone of pleasure, thrashing you with it over and over, making you feel a wet gush between your legs, warm and slick. 

He released your face and leaned backwards, peering down at your body from his kneeling position, letting you watch how he was pistoning inside of you, pressing himself through you and filling you up. He watched himself for a moment, staring down at where you were joined, and then he sank himself all the way in and tossed back his head with a bellowing shout.

You felt his prick writhing inside of you, pulsing and throbbing. You waited, panting with him, watching him wipe the sweat from his brow. He pulled himself out slowly, and lay it on your belly, letting you see the last of his seed drooled from his tip. There was blood on your skin when he pulled away, and as much as you tried to wipe it away, it stained.

Hades carried you to his bed, wrapping you in his dark blue silk sheets, cradling you in his arms until you both drifted off to sleep. 

You awoke to the sound of a woman crying. A voice calling your name. But, you were so tired, you must have been dreaming, so you didn’t question it. 

AO3 Link -- Thank you for the bookmarks and kudos! <3

[literaryvein-reblogs]

hii I love your stuff can you make writing notes about volcanoes I wanted to write abt them for my writing project and I'm having a hard time on in thx ^^

Writing Notes: Volcanoes

Volcano - vent in the crust of Earth or another planet or satellite, from which issue eruptions of molten rock, hot rock fragments, and hot gases.

Volcanoes are Earth's geologic architects.

They've created more than 80 percent of our planet's surface, laying the foundation that has allowed life to thrive.

Their explosive force crafts mountains as well as craters.

Lava rivers spread into bleak landscapes.

But as time ticks by, the elements break down these volcanic rocks, liberating nutrients from their stony prisons and creating remarkably fertile soils that have allowed civilizations to flourish.

Some 75% of the world's active volcanoes are positioned around the ring of fire.

It is a 25,000-mile long, horseshoe-shaped zone that stretches from the southern tip of South America across the West Coast of North America, through the Bering Sea to Japan, and on to New Zealand.

This region is where the edges of the Pacific and Nazca plates butt up against an array of other tectonic plates.

Importantly, however, the volcanoes of the ring aren't geologically connected.

In other words, a volcanic eruption in Indonesia is not related to one in Alaska, and it could not stir the infamous Yellowstone supervolcano.

Active – volcanoes known to have erupted during historical times. (Total Number = 529)

Dormant – volcanoes that have not erupted during historical times, but will probably erupt again. (Total Number = 1,340)

Extinct – volcanoes that are unlikely to erupt again.

The 3 Classic Types of Volcanoes

TYPE — SIZE — LIFESPAN

Cinder Cone — Small (<1,000 ft; 330 m tall) — Short (single eruption of a few months)

Composite Volcano — Large (usually between 6,500 and 20,000 ft; 2,000-3,000 m tall) — Long (hundreds of thousands of years)

Shield Volcano — Very large (up to a maximum of 33,000 ft; 10,000 m tall) — Very long (up to a million years or longer)

Different shapes of volcanoes have different kinds of eruptions.

The most explosive eruptions come from stratovolcanoes, like the Augustine Volcano in Alaska. When they erupt, stratovolcanoes blow huge columns of gas and ash into the air that can collapse in hot, fast-moving clouds called pyroclastic flows.

A shield volcano, like Mauna Kea in Hawaii, has gentle slopes formed by oozing, runny lava. The magma is low in silica and low in gas, so it doesn’t erupt explosively.

A lava dome, like the one of Chaitén Volcano in Chile, forms when thick lava oozes from a vent, piles up, and cools into a steep mound. The lava is thick because it’s high in silica, and it oozes instead of explodes because it’s low in gas. Sometimes lava domes form after explosive eruptions.

A cinder cone volcano, like Tavurvur in Papua New Guinea, forms when erupted fragments harden and fall to the ground, accumulating around the vent in a cone shape. The lava is low in silica, so the lava is runny. High gas levels make for the explosive eruptions that send it flying. Cinder cones typically form at the beginning of eruptions, and lava flow follows.

Olympus Mons - a giant shield volcano on Mars. It is believed to be the largest volcano in the solar system. The entire island of Hawaii would fit in its caldera.

In more-detailed classification schemes based on character of eruption, volcanic activity and volcanic areas are commonly divided into 6 major types, shown schematically in the diagram. They are listed as follows in order of increasing degree of explosiveness:

Icelandic

Hawaiian

Strombolian

Vulcanian

Pelean

Plinian

There are different types of volcanic eruptive events, including:

pyroclastic explosions, with is fast-moving hot gas and volcanic matter

hot ash releases

lava flows

gas emissions

glowing avalanches, when gas and ashes release.

Volcanic eruptions can also cause secondary events, such as floods, landslides and mudslides, if there are accompanying rain, snow or melting ice.

Hot ashes can also start wildfires.

Volcanic eruptions can impact climate change through emitting volcanic gases like sulfur dioxide, which causes global cooling, and volcanic carbon dioxide, which has the potential to promote global warming.

Features and Erupted Material

Viscosity: The resistance of a material (usually a fluid) to flow. Example of comparison would be the higher resistance to flow of cake batter compared to water.

Lava Flow: Lava flow is thin at the top of the cone, while lava pooled at the base is very thick. When eruptions end, erosion processes start on the cooled lava, including glacier erosion, flowing water, rockfall, and landslides. The volcano will only grow in size if the amount/volume of lava erupted is more than the amount that is lost to erosion.

Volcanic Gases: Most gases originate in the mantle and are transported to the crust and surface by complex interactions with magma and rocks along the way. In general, gases are dissolved in the magma. At shallow depths, as pressure on the magma decreases, gases leave the magma. The gases can interact with surrounding rocks or continue to the surface. The most common volcanic gases are: Water Vapor (H2O), Carbon Dioxide (CO2), and Sulfur Dioxide (SO2). Gases can be both dissolved in the magma chamber and also emitted from volcanoes at the surface. It’s the dissolved gases cause volcanoes to erupt.

A magma chamber contains high pressure and dissolved gases.

The density contrast between the magma and the surrounding rock causes more buoyant magma to rise. As the magma rises, the dissolved gases start to come out of the liquid and form bubbles.

As the bubbles grow and increase in volume, it causes the magma to became more buoyant and ascend closer to the surface, allowing the overlying pressure to decrease and produce magmatic foam.

When the pressure in the bubbles is greater than the pressure of the overlying rock, then the chamber will burst causing a volcanic eruption.

The viscosity, temperature and composition of the magma determine whether the explosion is explosive or effusive.

More Features and Erupted Material

Silica: Influences lava viscosity and overall shape of the volcano. Silica molecules form a strong bond that permits entrapment of volcanic gases and promotes explosive volcanic eruptions. Low-silican magmas allow rapid escape of gases and low-explosivity eruptions. Other factors that control magma viscosity include the temperature, gas, water content and the amount of crystals in the magma.

Color: Color and texture of lava vary considerably depending on cooling conditions. Lava rocks at high temperatures appear red to orange in color but cool quickly to shades of red (due to oxidation) and gray.

Sound: Witnesses of slow-moving, partially cooled lava flows report sounds similar to breaking of glass and pottery, caused by the splintering of the cooled outer skin of the lava flow. In contrast, the passing of a pyroclastic flow is eerily quiet. Some people say this is because its sound energy is absorbed within the billowing ash cloud.

Smell: Observers of lava flows report a slight sulfur smell in the air and the odor of burning vegetation.

Texture: Lava at Mount Rainier is not as fluid as lava at the volcanoes on Hawai'i, where lava flows sometimes resemble hot molasses, nor is it as viscous as lava at Mount St. Helens.

Tephra: Fragmental material produced by a volcanic eruption regardless of composition, fragment size or emplacement mechanism. Also referred to as pyroclasms (airborne), and pyroclastic flows (on ground) and rocks. Tephra can stay in the stratosphere for days to weeks following an eruption. It can also reflect light and heat from the sun back into the atmosphere. Tephra mixed with precipitation can also be acidic and cause acidic rain and snowfall. Tephra is made up of ash (fragments of pulverized rock, minerals and volcanic glass), volcanic blocks (a mass of molten rock), and lapilli (little broken up pieces of molten or semi-molten lava ejected from eruption).

Other Types of Volcanic Rock

If a rhyolite lava flow cools quickly, it can quickly freeze into a black glassy substance called obsidian. When filled with bubbles of gas, and usually with explosive eruptions, the same lava will form pumice. If the same lave is allowed to cool slowly…it will form a light-colored, uniformly solid rock called rhyolite.

Pumice most commonly forms with rhyolite lava flows, though it has formed from dacite and andacite. flows as well. It is so lightweight, it will float on water.

Obsidian has been used for centuries in many countries for things such as weapons and art.

The shape and size of a volcano are controlled by several factors

The volume of volcanic products

The interval length between eruptions

The composition of volcanic products

The variety of volcanic eruption types

The geometry of the vent

The environment into which the volcanic products are erupted

Overall, 44 volcanoes were in continuing eruption status as of 23 December 2024.

An eruption marked as "continuing" does not always mean persistent daily activity, but indicates at least intermittent eruptive events without a break of 3 months or more.

There are typically 40-50 continuing eruptions, and out of those generally around 20 will be actively erupting on any particular day (though detailed statistics on daily activity is not usually kept).

Health concerns after a volcanic eruption include:

Infectious disease

Respiratory illness

Burns

Injuries from falls

Vehicle accidents related to the slippery, hazy conditions caused by ash

When warnings are heeded, the chances of adverse health effects from a volcanic eruption are very low.

Volcanic Ash. Exposure to ash can be harmful. Ash is gritty, abrasive, sometimes corrosive, and always unpleasant. Small ash particles can abrade (scratch) the front of the eye. Ash particles may contain crystalline silica, a material that causes a respiratory disease called silicosis.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Thanks so much! Do go through the links above for more details I wasn't able to include here. Hope this helps with your writing :)

[fernsproutxx]

GR96

@fusionspruntcityjournal

So how do you produce electricity with living plants? Simply by using the natural processes that already occur. In short: the plant produces organic matter via photosynthesis. Only part of this organic matter is then used for its own growth. The rest is excreted via the roots. Around the roots, bacteria feed on the organic matter and they release electrons. If you’re able to harvest the electrons into an electrode, you can couple the first electrode to a counter-electrode and build an electrical circuit, like in a battery. The electrons flow back into the natural system via the counter-electrode, so it’s completely circular. Because we use the natural processes around the plant, nature is not harmed. It works day and night, summer and winter. It only stops when the plant and its surroundings completely dry up or freeze over.

Sedum Oviferum

Sedum pachyphyllum is a ground-hugging succulent that spreads by rooting fallen stems and leaves. The succulent also goes by the names “Cerise Moonstones” or “Mauve Pebbles”. The short and stumpy round leaves have a light silvery-purple color; positioned at a right angles to the stem and curve upward, which in the wintertime, the tips of said leaves will turn into a notorious red.

Sedum Oviferum is a succulent that is very easy to grow and maintain. It is a resilient plant that can tolerate drought, moist and dry soils, and when given adequate exposure to sunlight and sufficient water, Cerise Moonstones will thrive outdoors. The Sedum Oviferum succulent grows at its best with regular exposure to sunlight. If Mauve Pebbles are planted in an area in a garden that gets plenty of sunlight per day, you will be rewarded with bright coloured leaves and flowers. In winter and early spring, Cerise Moonstones actively grow and produce blooms featuring red-orange petals and sepals that have the same pigmentation as the leaves. The flowers produced by Cerise Moonstones have a bell shape and a sugary fragrance.

Subterranean Clover

Trifolium subterraneum is also known as the subterranean clover (often shortened to sub clover), or subterranean trefoil. The plant's name comes from its underground seed development, a characteristic not possessed by other clovers. It can thrive in poor-quality soil where other clovers cannot survive.

This species is self-fertilizing, unlike most legume forage crops such as alfalfa and other clovers, which are pollinated by insects, especially honeybees. It is also grown in places where the extreme ranges of soil type and quality, rainfall, and temperature make the variable tolerances of sub clover especially useful.

Functionality

GR96 are powered by any plant of choosing on their back pod (the one we are going to discuss has a giant Sedum Oviferum and multiple sub clovers to operate) which is held in place by five strong suction cups. They’re manufactured for community gardens (strictly only one per garden), but they can also be bought by high class citizens for private properties, though at a way bigger cost since they’re financed by the city.

They can use their hands as scissors, shovels, and for watering (hence the big forearms, for storing the water), the latter which they do by dipping their hands in a bucket, opening the valve on their forearms so they can fill them up and releasing the water from the pinholes on their palms. Their “eyes” are actually a screen that can show plenty expressions, but the two circles above that peripheral screen are the real environmental sensors. They also have the same sensors on their ankles for inspecting the lower plants and ground without the need of kneeling, and their feet are shaped in a way so that weight is evenly distributed, lowering the chances of damaging a plant if they were to step on it. The ear like protrusions are small solar panels, used as backup energy (they don’t have any communication properties). Their speaker aka their “voice” is the mohawk-like structure on the top (which also has their series barcode 128 on the lower back), but when they speak there are these strips at the sides of the face mask that light up with the volume. The mask (non removable) has a set of pipes that are used for analyzing the air quality and humidity of the area surrounding them.