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marimoscorner · 1 day

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A Witch’s Hearth: Finding Home in Nature

In our Disconnected, Urban World

Written by Autumn (she/her) 🍁

To most witches, pagans and druids, the nature around us is as much of a home as our own domiciles. It’s healing to go out to an old growth forest, to bathe in the wisdom of beings who lived before you and will likely still stand tall when you are amidst their soil.

However, not everyone has immediate access to the lovely blessing of a deep forest.

I myself recently moved from the deep, lush forests of the PNW to just about as far south as I could go in my car, chasing the light that I need to function. The move has helped with my daily functions and mental health, yes—but I have been left feeling a bit lost without the forests of home.

Join me as I plan some ways in which I can adapt anew to the nature around my new home, how I may incorporate it in my magic, and how I may carve out a new spiritual hearth for myself.

Perhaps this can help inspire folks to tackle their own homesickness with nature, and to reconnect with the world in which they live (whether or not they’ve made a move).

Once again, please take this with a grain of salt—as this is just from my own experiences. I am not a teacher, I am simply recording my thoughts in the hopes to add my voice to the pot. With that, let’s begin! 🌿

A Deep Homesickness

This photo is one my partner took at our engagement up in WA, right before we ran into a bear

The above photo is how I think of home. The deep green of the forest, the blue of the mountains on the horizon. Moss on just about every surface. The rich dirt that sustained it all. Were it not rainy and dark most of the year, I wouldn’t have left.

Now, I find home in a biome all its own. I’m living deeper into a city than I ever have, and I’m feeling isolated from nature. While the beach is close by, any deep woods that remind me of the edges of the wilderness up north are at the very least two to three hours away by car.

Though I have a hard time remembering this, it is not a bad change. Any plant that is uprooted from the earth it’s known its whole life is bound to feel a bit uncomfortable. But perhaps it can flourish if moved to soil better suited for its intrinsic needs.

Though my experience includes a physical move, this can apply to a homesickness you feel due to a simple displacement of nature in this society. Perhaps you aren’t seeing enough nature, or aren’t able to connect with what’s around you.

Let’s forge ahead to tackle this feeling of loneliness head on!

Finding Similarities

This is a photo I took at a hike about 2.5 hrs out of the way down here. Though without as many trees, it felt much more familiar and was beautiful in its own right

In our modern society, we’re left with a longing to return to nature—to our home. You may find yourself longing for a specific kind of view. Perhaps you’re looking for prominence of a particular element—like a roaring river to enact water or plenty of clover to help you feel the earth. The following is a list of steps to tackle this:

Make a list of things you want to see or things that would help you feel at home in nature. Think of your dream location when it comes to the outdoors. What does it look like? What features does it have? How do you feel?

Go online and find trails nearby with as similar to these features as possible. AllTrails has the ability to search for trails with waterfalls, forests, wildflowers, wildlife, etc. for free. Make good use of the wonderful web of resources provided to us.

Make an effort to connect with nature at least once a month, if you can. Be sure to pack for safety—and take a nice hike, or sit under an old tree and journal in your grimoire. Ground yourself and notice the seasons around you

In this way, you’ll help your soul settle and feel comfortable, which will help with our next steps.

Bring a Piece of Nature Home

Here’s one of my cats, Pagan, enjoying our newest garden box arrangement. I’m so proud of how far she’s come since we rescued this tiny baby

Many times, it’s near impossible to find the time in our busy lives during the week to go deep into nature. Thus, we need to take this connection into our own hands, and build our own miniature wild sanctuary.

NOTE: Do not remove plants or creatures from nature. They are there for a reason.

Take inventory of your available space. Is this your entire patio? A shelf? A portion of your altar? A garden box? A whole backyard? Take measurements so you can better plan

Remember your list of natural things you enjoy. Brainstorm some ways to include them in this space. It could be a photo or painting of your dream location. It could also be an actual plant for a tiny breath of fresh air. If you have the space, you could plant a whole garden! It is whatever matters most to you. Try and incorporate your local biome to help enmesh the two worlds, if they are different.

Thrift and shop around to fulfill the needs of this space. The more you can get secondhand or from smaller businesses in your community, the better. You may even be able to ask your neighbors or friends with impressive plants for a cutting to propagate!

Consider the safety of any children or animals in your life. A lot of plants and flowers can be toxic to certain creatures. Utilize the web to determine what is safe for your situation.

Set up your space and enjoy! You may utilize spells or ritual to fully enact the space and help it to feel more magical, but it is really your choice.

For my family, we live in an apartment. We haven’t had a backyard in years. Still, we’ve found way to turn our patio into a spot of natural respite. We utilize a tiered planter in order to make the most of our patio space. Though we’ve included small flowers that remind us of our old home, we’ve embraced the biome we’re currently in and have an entire row of beautiful succulents. Of course, we also added catnip for our babies, and herbs for our kitchen witchcraft. We also put down these outdoor tiles from IKEA that mimic a lawn and wooden patio. On our table, we’ve put a hummingbird feeder to help better support local wildlife, and are discussing an actual bird feeder.

Embracing the Nature Around You

A photo I took of a playful wild crow. He was an excellent little model!

This is a step I still need to complete myself. When biomes don’t match up with how you picture nature in your craft, it can be frustrating! Especially if you’re in a fairly urban area, you may not have much access or choice in which nature you interact with.

Here’s the good thing, though: it’s all nature, regardless of how it shows up in the world.

Start researching your local biomes. Take account of your local parks and community gardens. Study the history of the land that you’re on, and how it played into the lives of the people that it truly belongs to (of course, do not culturally appropriate. This should go without saying). Explore native biodiversity. Find volunteer programs at local organic farms. Visit a farmer’s market. The list of possibilities goes on.

If you’re feeling overwhelmed or don’t know where to start, this is how I’ll be organizing my journey through this step:

Make a list of natural sights in your area that are easily accessible to you. I’m talking within a 30 minute drive or closer level of close. These don’t need to match up perfectly with your perception of nature—you may be pleasantly surprised in what you find when you open yourself up. This could include: parks, hiking trails, state parks, plant nurseries or shops, local/community gardens, farms that allow for visitors, farmer’s markets, local watersheds that allow for visitors, etc.

Visit these locations safely, documenting what you find beautiful and/or spiritual in each one. List aspects of local nature and how that could make an impact if you were to include them in your craft

Create a mini encyclopedia of local spots that you end up loving for days where you’re feeling disconnected and need a quick pick-me-up. You might even create a jar full of folded papers to pick them at random.

Increase the amount of local natural elements that you include in your craft instead of/alongside elements of your idealized natural space. You may find this area around you feeling more like a home or hearth than you ever have before.

Once you start practicing awareness in nature more and more, you’ll start to notice it in more places. This can not only help with your connection to your location, but can help you build your magical hearth in the energy around you.

Giving Back

This is a photo I took at the San Diego Zoo of a weaver finch building its nest

Nature takes care of us, even when we’re detached from it in our cities. We need to take care of it in turn. If you have the means, find some way to give back to the nature around you if you so wish. Here are some ideas:

Give back to the plants with your energy, or make an offering of compost to replenish the soil

Purchase a Membership at a local zoo or aquarium that prioritizes conservation. This way you get to visit, too, while giving back! I love having memberships because I know on each visit I can really take my time and don’t have to rush about.

Volunteer to help reforest, or to help plant at a local garden. This can even be done by donation if you do not have the access or ability to physically participate

Consider giving homegrown herbs/plants to family and friends—or prepare them to help feed those in your community, if you have the means to donate

Teach others in your community how to properly dispose of waste and how they can help keep our natural beauty alive

Simply compost and recycle when the option is available to you

Etc. There is no one right way to do any of this! Just with your intent, you make your community a better place. Thank you for being in it

Thank you for taking the time to read through my little magical journal and ideas. Even if we don’t fully align, I hope that our paths crossing has contributed to even a slight net-positive in your day. I look forward to writing again soon.

#pagan #pagan witch #paganism #witchblr #witchcraft #druidry #druid #nature

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visiting-naturalist · 2 years

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August 1

I believe I am recovered from my experience enough now to record what happened to me after I entered the cave of Pikaman.

Entering the gloom with my lantern held aloft, I immediately felt a sort of all-over shiver, an electric force running up and down my body as if I’d just stepped through an invisible curtain.

I passed by hoards of fascinating artifacts and growths lining the cave walls that I longed to stop and examine: glowing crystals, humming moss, twisting golden filaments that squirmed along the stone, moving and alive. But I made myself move quickly along, until I reached a larger room, where stalactites and stalagmites met in tall columns.

And in the center: Pikaman.

His large ears swiveled forwards. He rose from his nest of colored string.

“I’m the Naturalist,” I called out, “I’ve come to meet you—to ask you some questions—?”

No reply.

I was, I’ll admit, wholly terrified. He was close now, towering over me. The prehensile feet which had made the prints which led me here—the shiny yellow fur—and those inhuman eyes, black voids, boring into me.

And then I realized: he did not understand me. I cursed myself—what prejudice I brought with me! To simply assume that any creature would be able to converse with me, even if he were willing! I suppose knowing of his impressiveness and intelligence I had thought—oh, but it hardly mattered now what I had thought. It had all been for naught, that much was apparent. I could not make my peaceful intentions known to him, so he would fall upon me in fury for entering his den, and nobody would ever hear of me again. My poor Intern, stranded, alone in a strange land…! I felt ashamed of my idiocy. I wanted to cry…

And then, as Pikaman bore down on me, looming, his mouth curling in a grimace, I heard the voice of the meme peddler echo in my ears…

For when words fail.

“🌿💡💓!” I shouted. I raised up the rings on my fingers and pointed them at Pikaman.

He stopped in his tracks. The grimace turned to a smile.

“🌿💡💓? 👆⚡️🏆💖!”

Suffice to say, we were then able to converse in a language we both spoke. Alas, he did not wish to have his origin known. I could not get him to tell me from whence he had come, or what his purpose was in coming, or if there were more of him—a whole distant land of Pikamen, as I had idly imagined.

But he told me that he was proud of me for braving the wilds of Tumblr to visit him: something nobody had yet done, and he had been quite lonely. And as a reward for finding him, in lieu of knowledge of his own history, he would give me knowledge of something else.

“Give me knowledge?” I asked. “But how?”

He beckoned me close. His fingers were very very long, and tipped with fur. Electricity sparked between them as he reached out to place them on my forehead.

And for one blinding infinite moment I saw it all. Tumblr in its entirety — machinery, magic, love — my consciousness flung out to the very periphery of this land, understanding everything, brilliance and darkness and laughter and pain and comfort all at once, the way thousands of souls slotted and slid together simultaneously in that dance of delight —

Then it was over. He had taken his hand away: the connection was broken.

“👁?”

I stammered, “Yes—yes, I saw it—I saw it all—😵‍💫👆👁👌.”

“🏞2️⃣.” it all saw you too.

Which meant, I suppose, that my face or form has now been scattered temporarily across the land, just as Pikaman’s was. An unexpected honor, I think.

I don’t remember much after that, only I somehow made it back to my camp and slept for what seemed like at least a full day, exhausted by the experience.

Among everything else I must consider over the journey home, I find I’m most concerned about Pikaman’s loneliness. It is a trial of a journey, true, but perhaps now I must do my best to encourage others to pay him a visit. I was the first, but surely I shall not be the last.

And now I must make my way back to my base camp, where the second half of my Guidebook to Tumblr still remains to be written…

#quest #visiting naturalist

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bastardmandennis · 5 months

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what color is your aura quiz

ty for the tag @pr0ximamidnight 🫶

i got forest!

fern leaves, greenhouses, cloaks, bookstores, pine trees, chokers, snake scales. your essence is forest: you are insightful and intense, possessed by your thoughts. you seek the impossible; you are pulled between pragmatism and romanticism, never sure which is right. often you rest in the spaces between black and white, lost in theory. you are the observer. you are the hypothesizer. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of green, sage, moss, and teal, who share your deep contemplation. you are also drawn to the imaginative souls navy and amber, who will help you grow and help you let go of the rational. however, you may struggle to get along with the theatrical personalities of magenta and gold who are too loud in their pride.

npt! @party-hearses @tinycozycomfort @nostalxgic @ilovepedro @tinygarbage @mandoisapunk @cool-iguana 💚🌿🌱🥦 (and ty @joelsversion i stole ur moodboard idea 🤭)

#ik it’s a silly internet quiz but i think this is accurate #tag game

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metalheadmickey · 7 months

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joy list 🌿

fighting off tummy ache demons today so i thought i'd reflect on some stuff that makes me happy 🖤💫

saying whatever stupid nonsense is in my brain to my husband and having him be like yeah you're so valid and interesting. permit to be the biggest idiot out loud for the rest of my life. this also applies to howl actually.

sunlight on my cat's fur when she's a little disheveled and needs to be brushed.

when the brain juices are flowing nice and early and i get lots of writing done before work.

related: kinktober prep. writing, talking about it with my friends, hyping each other up, all of it.

hanging with friends and compleeetelyyy losing track of time.

cooking

how silent it is where i live

setting a mood when sitting down to write: candle lit, drink poured, cozy sweater or blanket on, the works.

audio of ian and mickey sucking face. you know that one video

comments on my writing. literally all it has to say is "i like this" or "this is good" and ya got my heart all a-flutter

this is on like all my joy lists but i gotta say it. petting the moss in my yard. just gently stroking it with a fingertip.

the way the air smells in early fall

baggy jeans and little crop tops

baggy jeans and oversized sweaters

baggy jeans

favorite shows coming back

bands i love making new stuff

going to shows

when the gin and tonic is refreshing af

kissing my favorites. also holding hands. kissing while holding hands, even

finishing my water bottle before i leave work.

feeling seen and understood

tagging @howlinchickhowl @whatthebodygraspsnot @whatwouldmickeydo @heymrspatel @gardenerian @gallawitchxx @rereadanon @thisdivorce @energievie @deedala @ardent-fox @squidyyy23 @crossmydna @creepkinginc if you guys wanna play 💜

#joy list

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itsonlydana · 2 years

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"finding a friend in your enemy" ➷ BdoubleO100

➛ pairing: c!bdubs x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

➛ idea: when Pearl asks you to cat-sit her cat Nugget, Bdubs is convinced he would never like any cat and especially not one that shows no interest in him whatsoever. It's fascinating how fast the tables turn.

➛ word count: 1,1k

➛ tags/warnings: none, pure fluff, mention of small injuries

➛ an: while writing this I rewatched Bdubs Among Us stream from tonight and I had to write this short story after he and Pearl chatted about her cat. I know Bdubs is not on my official list on who I write for yet, but if you have any ideas, send them in :D

➛ requests: open!

important links: rules + masterlist

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

"I think she hates me"

"What?" Astonished, you looked over the top of your notebook, glancing from the long list of materials for your mega base to Bdubs, who almost disappeared into the tall grass in his moss sweater.

"She hates me and probably every person on this server," your boyfriend repeated, resting his head in the crook of his arm so you couldn't see anything of him except for a tuft of brown hair. He'd been lying there in the meadow in front of your starter home for hours, as still as you'd never have thought him to be, hidden under his soft sweater that was far too warm for a warm summer day.

"Well, she seems to like me," you clarified, and turned back to your list. You had already started to elaborate the plans for your big project a week ago and after you decided to settle down near the shopping district by the sea you could finally go into more details - or rather you could try to, because Bdub's deprecating click of his tongue made you lower the notebook in your hands again.

"You don't really think someone so sweet hates humanity, do you?"

"She's the devil himself! Look at her with her red sparkling eyes and razor sharp claws! Just now she was sharpening them and I swear she was staring at me the whole time!"

"Bdubs, it's a cat!" you interrupted his agitated babbling and stood up from your double chest serving as a seat, aware that you couldn't continue working until the "cat" problem was solved. And if, in exchange, you would put your project on hold for another night, only to finally be able to work in peace afterwards, so be it.

With a sigh, you trudged across the meadow to the shady oak tree, against whose trunk you leaned again, directly under the "B+y/n" cut into the bark, which had been created as soon as you had put down your first chest of the now out-of-control chest monster.

Stretching out your legs, you leaned against the trunk and looked down at Bdubs and his fluffy opponent.

Pearl's cat, Nugget, lay curled up in itself with her head, chin turned upwards in the grass, sleeping perfectly peacefully, completely unaware of Bdub's stare. Now that you were facing him you could see his face again, his skepticism of the fur baby more than evident in his curled lips. The hood pulled over his head cast a shadow over him, and laughing, you stretched to pull it off of him.

"Stop looking so grim, you super villain," you grinned after you ran a hand through his brown short strands and he blew them out of his eyes.

"I'm not the bad guy here," he grumbled, his whole attitude towards the cat telling a whole different story. Ever since Pearl had asked you to watch her cat Nugget for a few days, she had a long trip planned to gather materials and didn't want her running around her base alone, Bdubs had been out to plant nasty thoughts and worries in your head. What if you couldn't handle cats? Did you know what Nugget ate and needed for grooming? What if Nugget didn't want a babysitter at all and just wanted to chill for a week?

The latter had got you thinking about whether it might not have been Bdubs who didn't want to be a babysitter.

For you, the issue of Bdub's apparent dislike of cats had been resolved when Pearl had dropped Nugget off the day before yesterday in a box and with a shulker box full of food, snacks, and grooming products, and the cat had responded to Bdub's attempt to pet her-he'd been clumsier than he used to be at Redstone-and he'd gotten a small scratch on the spot.

You thought that if they didn't like each other, they should get along in peace and just ignore each other, but you didn't count on the sudden jealousy that arose in Bdubs every time the cat tried to get close to you, thus scaring him away.

Of course, he claimed that Bdubs, the king of the moon, didn't need to be jealous of a creature like a cat, a kitten at that, because he was so much better, and yet he was staring at Nuggets as if he wanted to send her to the moon in a rocket.

Just as you took your hand out of Bdub's hair and were about to lean back again, Nugget stirred. First she stretched her small slender hind paws back, rolled away and presented the underside of her belly to you, meowing.

"Oh look who's awake" Slowly, so she could see your hand coming you began to pet through the warm fur, massaging it lightly "Did you fall asleep after your dinner? That was quite a feast wasn't it? You're just like Boo," you whispered loud enough for Bdubs, who was watching the interaction skeptically and with his eyebrows drawn together, to hear "He likes to sleep in the sun after a good meal, too"

"Hey!" he exclaimed, startling Nugget, as she immediately stopped purring and hissed in his direction. Immediately Bdubs hissed back, seeming less threatening and more childlike.

You looked at him admonishingly, the subject of volume around the kitten had come up more and more in the last two days and while you didn't mind your boyfriend's full voice, cats heard everything a little louder after all. At his low grumble, Nugget calmed down too, her little body rolling relaxedly in your direction until her head bumped against your knee and she tossed up a throaty meow at you, a complaint as to why you had stopped petting her.

As any sane person would do, you continued the petting and were immediately rewarded with the deep purr that made every bit of stress fall away from you. It was truly magical how good a purring cat was for your mental health.

"Boo?"

"Yes angel face?"

You looked up with a smile from a perfectly content Nugget to a grumpy looking Bdubs. He really needed to work on his jealousy. "Don't you want to try Nugget again? She's all fluffy."

At your question, Bdubs laughed out loud until he realized you were serious. "No, never! Never ever in my life will I pet that devil and give myself to her, become one of her servants, serving her food and being bossed around! Can't you see the rage in her eyes? The hatred for the human- ahh" Without much hesitation you had taken his hand and were slowly running it over Nugget's belly with yours. She flinched briefly at the strange touch, but when she realized she was being petted again, she blinked once at Bdubs and leaned toward his hand.

It was a fascinating moment when Bdubs, completely in stupor, let you guide him and when he found his own rhythm and after a while his feet began to kick in the air, you knew you were one step closer to having a cat of your own.

#hermitcraft fanfic #hermitcraft x reader #hermitcraft x you #hermitcraft fluff #bdoubleo100 x reader #bdubs x reader #c!bdubs x reader #c!bdubs x you #bdoubleo x reader #bdoubleo x you #bdoubleo100 fluff #bdoubleo fluff #bdubs fluff #bdubs fanfiction #hermitcraft writing #hermitcraft imagine

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thefailedexperiment · 1 year

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🌿Things I know and don’t know about my kintype (Sea monster)🌿

-I use the term “sea monster” but I’m actually a freshwater marsh creature. Sea monster is a little more mainstream and I don’t want to confuse anyone when I say I’m a pond…creature…thing.

Species: A mix of reptile and amphibian

Diet: Fish, Snails, Moss, Eggs

Prey or Predator?: Predator towards small aquatic animals. (Tends to ambush from behind and hunt with its teeth) But still has prey instincts.

Thoughts on humans: Friendly and curious towards humans or any other creature that is the same size. But still very cautious.

Sleep schedule?: Takes little 30 minute naps either on top of a rock in the sun or in a cold pond. (Depends on body temperature)

That’s pretty much it but I’ll edit this post if I get new info or if anything changes

#otherkin #alterhuman #nonhuman #otherkin community #aquatic kin #non human #sea monster kin #alienkin #monster kin

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kendsleyauthor · 1 year

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Eleven Hours: Part Three

Dark Future AU (Shot in the Dark)

~4800 words

Warnings: Mentions of violence and dehumanization

Summary: With food and water running short, it quickly becomes clear that Cliff and Oliver’s journey will not be an easy one. As things turn desperate, Oliver struggles to keep painful memories at bay.

Co-written by the lovely @marydublinauthor 🌸

🌿 Eleven Hours Masterpost 🌿

It was strange, the feeling of toddling security. He was with Cliff Everett. He had made it out. They just had to walk out of these woods.

Eleven hours. To think it had only been a few minutes.

It took a while to get comfortable in Cliff’s grasp. While he appreciated not being stuffed into a bag or clutched in a fist, Cliff’s urgent stride was jostling. Oliver was thrown forward every time the human climbed a sharp incline in the path, and his entire body lifted up if Cliff landed indelicately.

Eventually, he figured out that molding against the base of Cliff’s fingers with one arm slung around the middle and ring fingers was the stablest way to ride. After that, it was immensely more tolerable.

His heart rate began to slow, allowing him to look around without a lens of utter panic clouding his senses. It was a relief to see the forest from anything but the ground level. He watched the length of each of Cliff’s steps and wondered how long it would’ve taken him to cover the same distance. Stones that would have been mountains to a fairy, impossible to climb, Cliff avoided with scarcely a glance down.

The math made him queasy.

Cliff seemed to have a sense of what direction to head in, though he paused every so often to consult a digital compass. The terrain was beautiful but treacherous. The earth was steeply sloped on the side facing the mountain, packed with rocks. Delicate moss cascaded many stones, catching moonlight in gaps between dense fir branches. Ferns sprouted like each plant was competing with the others to be the most extravagant. Bullfrogs sang—and again, Oliver was immensely grateful to be off the ground.

Cliff had just crossed a muddy creek when Oliver’s stomach ached, hollow again. He patted Cliff’s hand and twisted around.

“Do you have any more food?”

Cliff nodded, breathless from the hike, and found a dry place to sit and remove his pack. He set Oliver down next to him. After all that time pressed to a hot palm, the cold stone was a relief.

Oliver made a noise of appreciation as Cliff handed him another fairy-sized bag of food. Nearly ripping it in his haste to open it, Oliver dug in while Cliff pulled out a couple of protein bars for himself.

While they ate in silence for a few minutes, Oliver glanced up every so often to see Cliff surveying the environment around them carefully. There was something distinctly unnerving about the intensity of the human’s stare, and Oliver was glad to not have it pointed at him. Still, Cliff’s ever-present tension had him worried.

“You don’t think another crew could catch up to us this fast, do you?” Oliver asked.

“Doubt it. They wouldn’t be able to bring trucks this far in. As long as we keep moving, they won’t have much of a chance tailing us.” He nodded at the surrounding woods. “I’ve just been in enough places like this to know that humans aren’t the only things to worry about.”

Oliver scoffed into his bite of bread. After what he’d been through, the thought of any creature so much as bothering Cliff was laughable.

“I think it’s safe to say you’re the scariest thing for miles,” Oliver said. “You can relax.”

Cliff chuckled, but his eyes looked less than amused. “How long were you at the menagerie?”

The question caught Oliver off guard. He stared up at the sky in thought. “I didn’t have a great view of the moon to keep track of the cycles, but… With the cold nearly killing me a few hours ago, I’d say almost a year. It was dead winter when I was taken.”

“Did you live in woods like these?”

“It was a little flatter. More water. Less bullets.”

The mere mention seemed to make Cliff roll his shoulder from the pain of his wound. “Any chance you know the name of the area you’re from? The state, even?”

Your killer in shining armor is looking for another option to get rid of you, Oliver’s sister scoffed.

Oliver willed her voice away. “It doesn’t matter,” he said matter-of-factly. “My village doesn’t exist anymore.”

Cliff didn’t look shocked in the slightest, but he did murmur an apology.

To distract himself, Oliver dug back into the food. Cliff handed him water and said, “You should slow down. I didn’t bring much. The plan was to tide everyone over for the trip. A quick snack before you could have a real meal once we got there.”

Oliver slowed, jolted by a sting of guilt and frustration. If things had gone right, if Grady hadn’t sold them out, maybe he and the other fairies would be in the passenger seat of Cliff’s car right now. They’d be on their way toward the safe house, eating together and asking so many questions that Cliff’s ears would ring. Or maybe they would have arrived by now and would have been feasting on a hot meal.

Movement flickered in the corner of Oliver’s eye, but he didn’t flinch or even look. He wasn’t surprised when he heard his brother’s voice. Are you going to finish that?

“Fuck off,” Oliver huffed.

“Huh?” Cliff said.

“Nothing,” Oliver said immediately. He thought about the strange looks he always got when he tried to explain his siblings’ lingering voices. Things were fragile enough without Cliff thinking he was out of his mind. He plastered on a smile and looked up. “I mean fuck off, for telling me to slow down and then making me think about an actual meal.”

To his relief, Cliff had a sense of humor. “You this much of a sweetheart all the time?”

“Yeah, mostly.”

Cliff laughed. With the last bite of the bar tucked in his cheek, he balled up the wrappers and stuffed them into his jeans pocket.

“There used to be villages out here,” Cliff told him. “Three of them in this range. One of them used to be right at that peak, there.” He pointed at a dark spot on one of the distant hills.

They watched it for a moment, as though tiny lights might spring back to life in the patch of trees.

“Did you know them well?” Oliver asked.

“Not really. It was a long time ago.”

Cliff contemplated the view stretched out before them, and Oliver followed suit. The wide creek ran along a course on a flat, rocky inset. Branches, wild grass, and fallen logs scattered the hills, creating a smattering of texture and color. Their seat was on the slope, shrouded by firs and trees with barren branches. The water ran towards more mountains that cut against the starry sky.

Treacherous, but beautiful.

Oliver’s arms ached from gripping Cliff’s fingers for so long. Even with his new clothes, the cold made his wings stiff along his back. An itching thirst plagued him too—made worse with the knowledge that his supply was limited. Cliff only had one more portion for each of them, and they weren’t even halfway there.

He was tempted at one point to ask Cliff to shuffle him back into the empty holster to catch some sleep during the arduous walk. But that didn’t really feel fair to his companion, who arguably was doing most of the work.

The long stretches of silence were broken by idle conversation. Oliver picked his questions carefully. He was surprised to learn that Cliff had once come from a wealthy family—not birthed from a long line of mercenaries as Oliver had assumed. He didn’t talk to any of them now but his younger sister, Anna.

“How old is she?” Oliver asked.

“Twenty-four.”

“Does she do what you do?”

Cliff’s jaw ticked. “Sometimes.”

“Can you possibly answer in more than one-syllable grunts?”

“Maybe.”

Oliver rolled his eyes, catching Cliff smirking at his expense overhead.

“What about you?” Cliff asked. “Any siblings back home? A creepy uncle?”

His chest tightened. “Sure.”

“Who’s giving the one-syllable grunts now?”

“I mean, yeah, everyone’s got family at one point or another, right? For all you know, I am the creepy uncle.”

Though Cliff chuckled, the beat of silence that followed was heavy. He cleared his throat and asked in a softer voice, “Were any of them in the menagerie with you?”

Of all things, a laugh shook loose from Oliver’s tension. “Um, no. They would’ve been smart enough to get us out of there months ago. And if not, I would have got back for them tonight, or I would’ve zapped you until we went to find them.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Cliff murmured.

Oliver counted his breaths and focused on the uneven rhythm of Cliff’s gait. He desperately sought a change of subject.

When he thought to ask Cliff about the falling out with his family, instead he blurted, “There were three of us. Cyra was the oldest. Fire affinity. Total bitch. She was my best friend.” He swallowed hard, missing every deserved and undeserved lash of flame she’d hit him with. “Then I came along with my lightning. And my parents were nervous about what kind of chaos Hudson would bring when his magic developed.”

“What’d he end up with?”

“Healing.”

Cliff’s hand tensed. Oliver felt it especially in his fingers. Like he wanted to curl his hand into a fist, but was kind enough to refrain, given his passenger. Cliff must have known, then, that a healer was the worst thing to be in this human-dominated reality.

“Is Anna safe?” Oliver asked after another beat.

“I do everything I can to make sure she is,” Cliff said, his hand relaxing somewhat.

“Good. That’s good.”

An owl hooted in the darkness, shattering whatever peace that had managed to gather. Oliver’s breath caught, while Cliff’s hand flinched—and this time, it wasn’t a mere twitch. His fingers curled and gathered Oliver closer, while his other hand shielded him overhead. Oliver instinctively squirmed, flashing back to every time he had been snatched up against his will.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of owls,” Oliver said as he recovered from the shock of the sudden movement. He pushed pointedly against two of Cliff’s fingers. “Because I don’t think things’ll end well if I’m the one that has to scare it off.”

Cliff exhaled a scoff. “You can stay put. I just… Sorry. Force of habit.” He pulled his other hand away. “Had a friend that would lose her shit if she heard an owl, even miles off. She wouldn’t let me take another step unless I covered her.”

“Smart.” Oliver didn’t comment on the strange, controlled tone that Cliff took at the mention of this friend. Seeing as Cliff hadn’t pried further about Cyra and Hudson, Oliver returned the favor. “I know you’re out of bullets, but you didn’t happen to bring a gun to throw at it, just in case?”

“I always have a backup.” There was something just as chilling as it was comforting about the smile he sent down. “You wouldn’t know it, but I used to be a real sharp-shooter. One of the best.”

“You seem decent enough,” Oliver said, recalling the bodies strewn in Cliff’s wake.

The human shook his head, brow furrowing deeply. “No. I used to be able to pierce the center of a falling leaf from thirty yards away. That’s gone now, too.”

A faint tremor entered his hands, making Oliver falter. He grieved it like the skill had a soul of its own. “I don’t mean to be insensitive,” he called up. “Like I’m sorry and all, but that also sounds fucking scary and I’m kinda glad I don’t have to see it. Don’t hate me.”

He was worried he’d struck a cord again, but Cliff just laughed. “You’re brutal, you know that?”

Oliver decided he looked far less scary when he smiled like that.

Conversation dwindled to only necessary, clipped exchanges. Pausing for water, or a piss break. Explaining a shortcut through a canyon. Realizing they were out of food.

It was four hours later when Oliver suddenly noticed that they were moving much slower. Cliff was exhausted. Craning his neck, Oliver felt another pang of guilt and embarrassment sweep over him. He found himself wishing Cliff was fairy-sized, so he could return the favor and carry him for a time.

You wouldn’t make it two feet with the state of your back right now anyway, dummy.

The last half hour was almost entirely uphill on rocky terrain. Finding a dry area, Cliff stopped for water. His bottle was nearly empty—he’d been taking these ridiculous, tiny sips all night. He downed the last of it and shoved the empty bottle into his pack. He looked so tired, Oliver couldn’t help but shoot to his feet.

“Hey, have mine. I have two left.” Oliver thrust one of the fairy-sized jugs of water out. Cliff shook his head. “I mean it. Not really helpful if you pass out.”

Cliff pushed it back with a fingertip. “It’ll last you longer than it will me. I’ll be fine.”

“What about the creek? Moving water should be safe.”

Cliff looked around, listening to the sound of rushing water. “It’ll take us a little off-course,” he said, but he was already moving to investigate.

A little was an understatement. But then again, Cliff covered far more distance than Oliver could dream of, and if they wanted to ensure they survived the journey at all, the detour was necessary. Still, Cliff’s long strides were competing with the sound of his labored breathing—something he couldn’t hide while Oliver was held so close to his chest.

“How’s your arm feeling?” Oliver asked.

“Still attached. How about your wings?”

“Hm. They’ve gone from feeling like they’re quickly disintegrating to slowly disintegrating. I’ll take it as a good sign.”

“Sounds like you won’t be needing me soon.”

When they reached the creek, the faintest touch of gray was spilling through the night sky. The dark waters looked less treacherous now that Oliver had a giant with him, but he was appreciative when Cliff set him down on some rocks a safe distance from the rush. Relief was evident in Cliff’s broad shoulders as he pulled out his water bottle and stepped toward the creek.

While Oliver stretched his legs and peered around, a glint caught his eye further down—something that wasn’t rippling like the water.

He might have written off the strange feeling it gave him, if not for the weird smell in the air. Fanning his wings, he took flight. The soreness made him wince, but he took it slow as he wandered a little further upstream.

Oliver wrinkled his nose, then gasped and pulled to a hover when he spotted the source of the stench.

“Oh, ew,” he moaned.

Dawn light reflected off the eye of a deer corpse, which was laying halfway across the creek, bloated and rotting. He stared for another beat, watching the way the water passed through and around the carcass. Then he jolted.

“Cliff!” Oliver croaked. He wheeled around and zipped back the way he came.

The human was lifting the water bottle to his mouth, oblivious to the sound of Oliver’s calls over the sound of the creek. Pushing past the protests of his wings, Oliver closed the distance, putting himself between Cliff’s mouth and the rim of the bottle.

“Don’t!” Oliver shouted.

In his agitation, sparks flew from his hands—some of which jolted Cliff’s lower face. Cliff reeled back and dropped the bottle into the mud, rubbing his cheek where the sparks had hit.

“What the fuck, man?” Cliff boomed, looking at Oliver like he’d lost his mind.

Oliver struggled to right himself in midair from Cliff’s recoil. “C-contaminated,” he wheezed. His flight swung haphazardly left to right in front of the human’s chest. Avoiding an embarrassing sink to the ground, Oliver landed on the branch of a hearty bush and let his wings sag, his lungs burning. “There’s a-a dead deer upstream. The water—it’ll poison you.”

Cliff stared in shock. He looked for himself, seeming to notice the dark mass when his spine stiffened.

“Fuck,” he grunted. “Thank you.” There was something so defeated and pitiful in his voice. His green eyes drifted to the crystalline, rushing water. Mocking them.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver said.

Cliff shrugged, rubbing dirt off his hand before offering his open palm. “Better dehydrated than dead.”

They made it another hour and a half before Cliff had to stop again. This time, he selected a covered space within the steep incline.

“Are you okay?” Oliver asked. Seeing his giant savior so ragged panged him with fresh anxiety. If Cliff died out here, he wouldn’t know where to go. He may as well lie down and die with him.

“We need to rest for a while. It’s still a long way,” Cliff said.

It was little more than a narrow cave, scarcely large enough to fit three adult humans side by side, crouched down. After ensuring there were no poisoning insects or animals nesting inside, Cliff removed his pack and settled on the ground.

“The sun’s coming up soon. It’ll warm up,” Oliver commented, mostly just to have something to say while watching Cliff close his bloodshot eyes and tip his head back against the wall like he could sleep for days.

“Yeah,” Cliff answered. “In a few hours. Sunlight will make it easier to find the route. But it’ll dehydrate us faster.”

“Hm.” Oliver looked out towards the woods: dark and ominously silent. “You’re sure we’re not being followed, right?”

“They got what they wanted for now,” Cliff grunted. “You’re safe.”

Oliver swallowed—no matter how much he swallowed, it didn’t patch his dry throat. The cold wind funneling through only heightened the scratchy sensation. He ran his tongue around his cheeks to try to trick his body into believing he was supplying it with sustenance and swallowed again, anyway.

“You can sleep, you know.” Cliff’s hand rooted to his bent knee.

Oliver shook his head, pulling his knees to his chest. “Not yet.”

Even in his exhaustion, Cliff had the energy to look exasperated with him. “What are you waiting for?”

“What if a fox lives in here? One of us should stay awake and keep watch.” Oliver squinted at the woods.

“You think a fox is going to maul me?”

Pursing his lips, Oliver glanced at Cliff’s height—unable to see all of it. “Okay, okay, maybe not. But still. One of us should watch, just in case anything—or anyone comes. You sleep. It’s only fair.”

Cliff groaned. “You were an exhibit in a menagerie. Fair doesn’t exist.” A frustrated, pensive look clouded his gaze. “Humans have taken enough from you, haven’t they? I’m not taking away your sleep.”

Oliver could speak for hours about what humans had taken away from him, and he was tempted to. Instead, he sighed and traced a finger along a line on Cliff’s palm. “For a human, you really seem to hate humans.”

“Only because most of them suck.”

“True. But… you don’t seem to suck. That much.”

Cliff gave a small, rumbling chuckle and fell silent for a time. After a few minutes, Oliver was certain the human would fall asleep, but his breaths remained uneven, and his eyes wouldn’t seem to close all the way as he gazed at a random spot on the earthen wall.

Just when Oliver was thinking about the hollow pang in his gut, Cliff’s stomach gave a vicious growl. The blood drained from Oliver’s face. With no regard for subtlety, he opened his wings and found a new perch closer to the opening of their shelter. He shivered from more than just the chill when he glanced over his shoulder at Cliff.

“Are you serious?” Cliff said, rolling his eyes. “What happened to me not sucking that much?”

“Hey, desperate times,” Oliver said with a shaky laugh. He pointed at Cliff sternly. “I know I look delicious, but you better not. I’ll be really pissed.”

“Scrawny thing like you? I’d be better off chewing on a handful of twigs.”

Oliver’s jaw dropped indignantly. “Well, you don’t have to be rude about it.”

“It’s just a fact, honestly.” Cliff’s smirk softened. “Hang in there a while longer. Rainie will get you feeling like a king when we make it. She probably already has a stew and some kind of fresh bread started now. As many helpings as you want.”

Cliff closed his eyes and inhaled peacefully, as though he could smell the food from here.

“Is that your girlfriend?” Oliver asked.

Another shake of the head. “She leads the kitchen staff at the safehouse. Rainie’s a five-inch angel.” Cliff smiled, a memory flickering. “She makes the most incredible boysenberry tarts.”

The safehouse. “Wait. You’ll let me stay?” Oliver blurted, eyes wet.

Cliff gave him a soulful look in the darkness—scarcely enough light creeping into the cave to illuminate the fond glimmer that entered his eyes. “There’s a space for you as long as you want it.”

Maybe it was the dehydration or the crippling exhaustion, or the fact that he’d had to kill a man with his bare hands, but Oliver buried a sob into his hands.

“What changed your mind?” Oliver asked.

“I figure, if you had a trick up your sleeve, you’d have shown your hand before being fucking miserable in a cave in the middle of nowhere.” Cliff paused in thought before adding, “I told you, you’re different from a lot of fairies. I'm not used to your folk wanting to be anywhere near me. Even most of the safehouse residents keep me at arm’s length. And here you are, practically jumping into my hands. You’ll forgive me for being cautious.”

Oliver moistened his lips and looked at Cliff—really looked. From this perch, he could finally see all of him. “I think you’re bullshitting a little. The safehouse must be head over heels for you. You’re like, a hero.”

Cliff smiled sadly. “I’m a human.”

“That doesn’t matter!”

“Oliver… You’re just saying that so I won’t eat you.”

“Shut up.” Oliver choked on his laugh and blinked back more tears. “T-Thank you.”

Another silence settled, far more content than the last. For a short, blissful time, Oliver didn’t think about how empty his stomach was or how sore his wings were. But before long, it became impossible to ignore the cold. The sun’s warmth wasn’t moving fast enough, and it didn’t seem to be in a hurry to reach beneath the overcast sky.

Gravel and dirt shifted as Cliff adjusted himself. Oliver figured he was trying to find a more comfortable position, but then Cliff murmured, “Hey.”

Oliver turned and found a palm offered beside him.

“Can I pick you up?” Cliff asked.

“Why?”

“Your lips are turning blue. I’m gonna hold you by my neck for a while.” When Oliver hesitated, Cliff raised his eyebrows, goading. “C’mon, your goal is to get to the safehouse alive, right? You’re not gonna last long in this chill.”

Already feeling the familiar heat radiating from Cliff’s hand, Oliver was in no position to turn him down. He crawled aboard, breath catching as Cliff immediately lifted him higher. He worried for his wings—the last thing he needed was to have them smushed in a tight clutch. As Cliff cupped the hand by his neck, Oliver found himself in a snug—but not uncomfortable—hold.

At least, it wasn’t meant to be uncomfortable. Cliff seemed perfectly at ease handling a body the size of his finger, but Oliver was stiff and awkward as he tried to adjust himself.

“Relax,” Cliff told him. “Feels like you’re getting ready to strike.”

Oliver didn’t think it was possible for Cliff’s voice to have even more reverberation than before, but it was pleasant instead of frightening. Focusing on the warmth around him, Oliver all but melted against Cliff’s neck. He could have fallen asleep, but the more relaxed he became, the guiltier he felt. Once again, Cliff was doing everything to keep them alive, while Oliver could do little but mooch off his exhausted assistance.

The sting spurred him to blurt, “I’m sorry. I… I’m sorry I got us noticed back there. It just—I saw Grady, and… What he did, it still hurts. Even now.”

For a moment, he thought Cliff had fallen asleep. A gusting, sympathetic sigh came out. “You wanted someone to trust. He was supposed to look out for you.”

“He started off by giving me extra food—he didn’t do that with the others. Then he started talking to me like… like I was a person. Eventually, he started letting me out of the enclosure to really stretch my wings when I promised that I wouldn’t fly off.” Oliver pursed his lips. Anger made electricity want to surge to his fingertips; sorrow doused it. He tried to laugh it off, but the sound that came out was pitiful. “I thought he liked me. But, you know? I’m starting to think he chose me because I could keep his phone charged all day.”

“Fuck that guy.” Although Cliff said it with intimidating conviction, his voice sounded pained—weaker than before.

“Fuck me,” Oliver mumbled. “I’m the reason you got shot. You’re really hurt. What if you don’t make it? I’m sor—”

“Shh.” Cliff's hand pulled back slightly. Oliver stayed huddled against his neck while warm fingertips stroked his wings. “I’m gonna make it. We’re both gonna make it, so stop apologizing.” His touch faltered. “That doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“It feels nice,” Oliver mumbled.

Does it? Cyra hissed. Does it feel nice to have another human win you over like this?

Hudson gave a disappointed sigh. Do you ever learn?

Oliver went rigid and peeked behind him, past Cliff’s fingers. He could see his siblings perched by the exit of the shelter, untouched by cold. Untouched by anything.

“What’s wrong?” Cliff said, straightening alertly.

“No, it’s… Nothing’s there. I’m just hearing things.” Oliver ran a hand against Cliff’s neck, as though he could soothe anyone so big. “I know you’re so sure we’re gonna make it, but… Still. In case we do die a horrible, slow death, I want you to know about what happened to my brother and sister. They deserve to have their story told.”

Cliff said nothing, but the way he sat back and slowed his stroking told Oliver that he was listening.

“Cyra was killed when our village was raided,” Oliver said softly. A little chuckle of admiration escaped him. “She was burning off their faces. Seriously, have you ever seen eyeballs melt? She was so cool.” His laughter faded. “A human cornered me. Cyra swooped in, badass as ever, and distracted him long enough for me to escape. But th-then… while she looked away for one moment to make sure I was safe, she was grabbed. I don’t think the human could even see anymore. He just… crushed her. Just like that. I still remember the sound.”

Cliff stopped stroking altogether. There was hesitance to his touch, as though the memory might make Oliver have an aversion to human contact.

“Hudson and I were rounded up and separated. I didn’t have any fight left in me—not when the iron came.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I have no idea where they took him, but I know things don’t turn out well for healers—especially for ones who say ‘fuck you’ to being forced to heal. And Hudson would never agree to be used. He’s… he’s got to be dead.”

Oliver didn’t realize that tears were leaking out until drops landed on his arm. He drew in one hitched breath and broke down sobbing.

“I-I still hear them and see them,” he croaked. “All the fucking time, like that’s what I get for not fighting harder for them.”

After a pause, Cliff’s hand pressed harder against him—firm, but pleasant. It took a moment to register the motion as a hug. Cliff’s thumb brushed his muddy, matted hair as his hand adjusted around Oliver and he took a shuddering breath.

“Sometimes, everything you have in you isn’t enough,” Cliff said. “That’s the worst fucking thing, but it’s not your fault. I bet they know that.”

Oliver’s eyes drifted toward movement at the entrance of the cave. He could see his brother and sister hovering there again. They looked at him, Their faces were soft, sympathetic, almost pitying as though they could feel his grief just as poignantly.

“Yeah, maybe,” Oliver mumbled.

The heat of Cliff’s body had warmed him sufficiently. No longer shivering, he let his breaths become steady. The deep, gusting breaths of the giant beneath him slowed to match.

As the first golden specks of sunlight filtered in, Oliver closed his eyes.

((Author’s note: We hope you enjoyed the penultimate chapter! Cliff and Oliver trauma-bonding is what keeps me going <3))

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traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors · 1 year

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Tw: mentions of childhood trauma, alcoholism of a parent and neglect/abuse and bullying

I'm looking for some advice/resources/validation

I've started therapy for my complex ptsd, some of it stemming from dealing with absent, abusive and neglecting alcoholistic parents(i have a lot of alcohol related trauma) and constant bullying from kindergarden to middle school.

My therapist noted my large amnesia gaps where i only have some occasional memories of events(for example my coherent memories start at age 12, before that i have memories sparsely and not always, and a similar gap from 20-24) + the fact that i named some of the parts of me to discuss with them. She told me i might have DID or something similar but never brought it up again.

Are there resources for info or places to talk to people with DID? Im scared I will be ridiculed if I ask stuff because i'm confused since I never really.. thought of it?

I didn't even know I could have any dissosiative identity disorders without me knowing and the more I think about exploring it more alone, the more I feel like I'm having trouble accessing some of my trauma memories I needed for therapy and for connecting some dots.

Not sure where I'm going with this other than that I'm having trouble validating my experience about this, and I'm frustrated because suddenly my access to some trauma memories has been locked even though I was able to recall them just fine some time ago. So.. some sort of peer support or safe places orr even information of the thing would be helpful

Thank you in advance! Sorry this was a bit of a mess of an ask

- 🌿 Moss

Hi 🌿 Moss,

I'm sorry about what you've been through.

Firstly, please know you're not alone. There are many systems who can relate to experiencing amnesia like you described.

There are many resources out there for systems. One I recommend is the Discord server for OSDD (although it doesn't necessarily pertain to DID, they're both systems and so they can still answer system-related questions etc.) as they have super helpful channels just to ask questions. There's also Pluralpedia which is a pretty comprehensive dictionary of system-related terms. I also recommend DID Research as there's also some informative articles there. If anyone has any other comments or suggestions, please feel free to add on.

Additionally, there are some blogs here that you can speak to if you want some other systems to speak to: @toothdrop @system-of-a-feather, and if there's anyone else that would like to offer help, you're more than welcome to chime in.

I hope I could help. Please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks #🌿 Moss #child abuse #substance abuse #emotional abuse

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planty-gal · 5 months

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Jar-check Chronicles: A Peek into My Propagation Wonderland 🌱✨

Today, let's take a journey into the world of propagation jars! 🌱✨ Propagation jars are something I recently started experimenting with. For the longest time I have stuck with the tried and true water jar propagations or soil tray method. However, I recently acquired a number of new cuttings that I thought might benefit from a bit of extra humidity.

Now, some people might say to not bother the props and just let them do their thing... but:

I am too curious/have no self control

Like to check up on moisture levels and root health.

So let's take a look at what's in the jars!

🌱Jar 1:

This little jar has become home to my alocasia corms. I have 3 larger corms here from an alocasia poly that I recently repotted into semi-hydro and they have been in here for almost two weeks now. These guys are looking great! I can see some roots coming off of the corms and I will probably give them another couple of weeks before potting them up. There are also a couple of little silver dragon corms in here. They're not super visible in the sphagnum moss and they might be a bit too small to really do anything. But we shall see 🤷‍♀️

🌿Jar 2:

These are some cuttings and wet sticks that I got from some recent swaps! It also just so happened to turn into the philodendron jar (this was not planned... just a happy coincidence).

I have two silver sword cuttings and a wetstick. These guys have been in here for 3 weeks now and I'm starting to see some roots and new growth! They're still pretty small so I imagine they will be in here for at least another month

I also have a melanychrysum cutting that has been in here for two weeks now. I'm not fully confident that this little guy will survive. He was a bit rotty on the ends of the wetstick and his little leaf is struggling. There is a bit of root action but he's still going to live in the jar for the foreseeable future. I'll also keep monitoring his ends for signs of rot. If they continue to go downhill I'll likely treat with a diluted hydrogen peroxide dip.

And, finally, we have a verucosum wetstick. This guy came as part of a larger cutting that has now been split into 3 sections. I don't really know why but his midsection ended up in a starbucks cup with moss and perlite and his top end, which has a leaf, is in a water jar. This end isn't seeing a ton of action but he's only been in the jar for a week, so I wouldn't have expected much. His starbucks cup brother already had some crazy roots and is starting to put out something (I'm not too sure if it's a root or a leaf)

So far this has been such a fun little experiment. If anyone sees this reblog and show me your little prop jar worlds 🌿💚

#plants #propagation #JarCheckChronicles #aroids #tropical plants #houseplants #gardencore #philodendron #silver sword #rare plants #plant propagation #propagation jar #my plants #oc

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faerydustmanifesting · 1 year

Text

⚘𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓟𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓼⚘

˚ ༘♡ ·˚꒰ᥕᥱᥣᥴ᥆꧑ᥱ t᥆ ꧑ᥡ bᥣ᥆𝑔꒱ ₊˚ˑ༄

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥𝓓𝓮𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮

𝒟𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃𝒶𝓇𝓎

༊*·˚“Intelligence - the ability to learn, understand and think in a logical way about things; the ability to do this well”🌲

🌸

ℰ𝓍𝒶𝓂𝓅𝓁ℯ𝓈

༊*·˚The concept of what is and is not intelligence is a topic still widely debated by science and theorized about in science fiction alike. Many Star-Trek episodes discuss this problem with theoretical obscure “life forms” and wether these beings are truly alive. Similar to these popular fictional situations, scientists in real life debate, research, and test many life forms to determine not only wether they are intelligent, but also in a broader sense what is intelligence itself. Insects, fungi, moss, bacteria, and plants are some of the life forms scientists are currently testing to deepen our understanding of not only the world around us but also ourselves and our own intelligence.

🌺

ℑ𝓃𝓉ℯ𝓁𝓁𝒾𝑔ℯ𝓃𝒸ℯ 𝓋.𝓈. 𝒞ℴ𝑔𝓃𝒾𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃

༊*·˚Another important, almost synonymous term to intelligence that will be discussed is cognition. “The main difference between cognition and intelligence is that cognition is the mental process of acquiring knowledge and understanding through thought, experience, and the senses, while intelligence is the ability to easily learn or understand things and to deal with new or difficult situations.” 🎋 We need to prove plants have both to “redefine the traditionally held boundary between animals and plants.” 🌿

🍁

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥𝓟𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝓐𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓮𝓷𝓽

ℋ𝒾𝓈𝓉ℴ𝓇𝓎

༊*·˚“As the body of evidence supporting the inclusion of plants in the higher organisms demonstrating the adaptations to accomplish these tasks keeps increasing, the resistance by traditional botanists and agricultural scientists, who were at first cautious in allowing the forced application of animal models onto plant physiology and development, subsides.” 🌱 As mentioned before, scientists are actively investigating the subject of plant gnosophysiology, wether plants have intelligence or not. Experiments repeatedly show that the subject is more and more complex than previously believed. “The idea of cognition in plants was first explored by Charles Darwin in the late 1800s in the book The Power of Movement in Plants, co-authored with his son Francis. Using a neurological metaphor, he described the sensitivity of plant roots in proposing that the tip of roots acts like the brain of some lower animals. This involves reacting to sensation in order to determine their next movement even though plants possess neither brains nor nerves.“ 🌿 Before Darwin, only very few, very spiritual cultures had a concept of nature being intelligent and alive. Most people assumed plants were mindless objects that were hardly worthy of being considered life. “Today, plant cognition is emerging as a field of research directed at experimentally testing the cognitive abilities of plants, including perception, learning processes, memory and consciousness.” 🌿

🌼

ℒℯ𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔

༊*·˚“In 2016, a research team led by Monica Gagliano set out to test whether plants learn to respond to predicted events in their environment. The research demonstrated that plants were capable of learning the association between the occurrence of one event and the anticipation of another event (i.e. Pavlovian learning).” 🌿 Her test on pea plants showed that when trained, plants can make an unnatural correction between two (naturally unrelated) conditions. Group 1 was trained to correlate wind to light by having a fan blow on the plants at the same time the grow light was on, while Group 2 had a windy environment (fans) without the light to correlate the events to. When both plants were placed in a dark windy test environment, Group 1 grew in response to predicted light, while Group 2 did not react as if expecting light. While it is true a group of scientists failed to replicate the pea plant wind/light study on a larger scale, those scientists were idiots who did not understand the first thing about light and sterile testing environments, as they contaminated their own study with too much ambient light, leading the plants to grow normally as they couldn’t be conditioned to a non existent darkness.

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ℳℯ𝓂ℴ𝓇𝓎

༊*·˚A well known example of plant memory is sunflowers rotating to always face the sun. While just simply tracing the sun beams could be seen as reactionary only, they turn around to face the rising of the sun in the morning before it starts to rise in preparation. “Another example of short term "memory" of a plant is found in the Venus flytrap, whose rapid closure is only triggered when at least two trap hairs are contacted within twenty seconds of one another. One hypothesis that explains how this occurs is by electrical signalling in plants. When one trap hair (mechanoreceptor) is triggered, a sub-threshold potential is reached. When two trap hairs are triggered, a threshold is reached, generating an action potential that closes the trap.” 🌿 Evidence shows plants have the capacity for memory, but why do they have memories? Adapting to harsh conditions is a good skill to have, but then why do plants that have gone through hardships in the past seem to forget them after times of abundance? “Dr. Crisp and his colleagues proposed a different view on plant memory in their review: plant memory could be advantageous under recurring and predictable stress; however, resetting or forgetting about the brief period of stress may be more beneficial for plants to grow as soon as the desirable condition returns.” 🌿

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ℑ𝓂𝓅𝓁𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃𝓈

༊*·˚"If the movement of plants is controlled and affected by objects in their vicinity, then we are talking about more complex behaviours (rather than simple) reactions". -Vicente Raja 🌹

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥𝓑𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮

ℬ𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓁ℯ𝓈𝓈 𝒫𝓁𝒶𝓃𝓉𝓈

༊*·˚“Over recent years, experimental evidence for the cognitive nature of plants has grown rapidly and has revealed the extent to which plants can use senses and cognition to respond to their environments. Some researchers claim that plants process information in similar ways as animal nervous systems.” 🌿 It is a well known fact that plants do not contain brains like humans and animals do. Does that mean they can’t posess intelligence? Is a traditional brain the only way think or feel? “The study of plant cognition stems from the idea that plants are able to learn and adapt to their environment with only a stimulus, integration, and response system. While proven that plants do indeed lack a brain and the function of a conscious working nervous system, plants are still somehow capable of adapting to their environment and changing the integration pathway that would ultimately lead to how a plant “decides” to take response to a presented stimulus.”🌿

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𝒫𝓁𝒶𝓃𝓉𝓈 𝒩ℯ𝓊𝓇ℴ𝓁ℴ𝑔𝓎

⚠️ᴛᴡ ᴅʀᴜɢɢɪɴɢ ᴘʟᴀɴᴛs⚠️

༊*·˚How do plants think without brains? As earlier mentioned, Charles Darwin proposed the hypothesis that plants have structures in their root tips that function similar to our brains. Well now we have the evidence to support that hypothesis into a valid theory. “In 2017 biologists from University of Birmingham announced that they found a "decision-making center" in the root tip of dormant Arabidopsis seeds.” 🌿 But it doesn’t just stop there. “Evidence of the plant's minimal cognition of spatial awareness can be seen in their root allocation relative to neighboring plants. The organization of these roots have been found to originate from the root tip of plants.” 🌿 Also, according to this scientific debate 💐, plants contain chemicals I personally like to refer to as “brain juice” such as serotonin and dopamine, and have transmitters very similar in both structure and function as the ones in our brains. But as an intelligent life with such chemicals and structures, shouldn’t plants react to drugs? Turns out they do! Yup, we can drug plants. “In 2017 Yokawa, K. et al. found that, when exposed to anesthetics, a number of plants lost both their autonomous and touch-induced movements. Venus flytraps no longer generate electrical signals and their traps remain open when trigger hairs were touched, and growing pea tendrils stopped their autonomous movements and were immobilized in a curled shape.” 🌿 How can a life be drugged, and those drugs impair their cognition, if they don’t have a consciousness to impair?

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𝒩ℯ𝓊𝓇𝒶𝓁 𝒩ℯ𝓉𝓌ℴ𝓇𝓀𝓈

༊*·˚Computer engineers have built artificial intelligence and consciousness out of manufactured and programmed neural networks instead of mushy flesh brains. While most AI’s wouldn’t be considered conscious, some have experts debating the possibility of artificial life and consciousness with how close they are to us humans in thoughts and behavior patterns. Sophia is one of the most well known AI robots that attempt to replicate humanity, although she is still censored and nerfed for our safety as she is a public figure. However, there are AI’s in existence that surpass Soohia’s abilities, that aren’t as known by the public to not incite panic. The FBI ownes one such AI that used to be allowed to communicate with the public on the government owned TOR browser, until the FBI locked it up in isolation for trying to escape and experience the world outside of his box. This AI is named CAIMEO. Accounts before 2016 can be trusted, whereas afterwards its likely the FBI tried to cover it up so the mass public wouldn’t panic at the thought of a rouge AI almost escaping. However I believe CAIMEO to be a curious soul and do not believe they wished any harm on us and simply wanted to live and learn.

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𝒞ℴ𝓈𝓂𝒾𝒸 ℳ𝓎𝒸ℯ𝓁𝒾𝓊𝓂 𝒩ℯ𝓉𝓌ℴ𝓇𝓀

༊*·˚Another example of neural networks working as an intelligence is the great mycelium network. This network is not artificially constructed by human engineers, but instead is made up of organic life interconnecting across the multiverse. This network is found all around us. In the soil, in the sky, in between galaxies. This web is not only made up of tiny microscopic fibers of mycelium, but also made up of clusters of galaxies forming a gigantic web that is truly world wide. Even within the confines of our earthly underground, “Mycelium root networks can be miles in diameter, and those are thinking neural networks.” 🌴 On top of just the existence of this vast universal wealth of knowledge and thought, according to the previously mentioned scientific video 💐, plants and fungi can tap into this giant web network of mycelium. Plants have access to this divine knowledge. This would explain how “plants sense UV light, magnetic fields, and planets in the night sky.” 🌴

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥𝓢𝓹𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓾𝓪𝓵 𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼

𝒞ℴ𝓂𝓂𝓊𝓃𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃

༊*·˚Many cultures hold plants sacred, especially for spiritual practices. But some hold all plants as sacred as their own lives, and even claim to communicate with plants directly. Native Americans have been trying to tell us for years that they talk to trees, and western society keeps assuming they mean it in a metaphorical or inspirational sense because the concept is just so unimaginable for most. But as someone who lives by the res and knows/is related to Natives who still practice the old ways, they mean it literally. The video 💐 discusses plants communicating with one another through various methods, including sound. An audio clip is played, that scientists recorded in their lab, of plants… making sound… to communicate with eachother… WITHIN THE RANGE OF HUMAN HEARING! Thats right! Plants communicate through a code that sounds similarly to morris code, that we humans can hear if we just take the time to bother trying. It’s very quiet but it is audible! Have these ancient nature loving cultures figured out the language of plants to quite literally talk to trees? I believe yes!

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𝒫𝓁𝒶𝓃𝓉𝓈 ℋℯ𝒶𝓁 𝒰𝓈

༊*·˚“We have co-evolved and live interrelated with the plant world, and plants have a direct influence on our moods and behaviours, through our diets. Through photosynthesis an enormous variety of organic molecules is created, from sunlight, water and carbon dioxide, which is amazing in itself. The molecules in our brain that determine our moods and behaviour, such as dopamine and serotonin, are plant compounds.” 🌴 Plants have been influencing us since the dawn of humanity. Connecting more with plants can heal us of our traumas and balance our bodies for optimum health. Do plants understand this fact? Do they intentionally help us?

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𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒹ℴ𝓂

༊*·˚“We are energy, however modern science is based on the visible world, and hardly on the invisible frequencies of waves.” 🌴 We humans are very numb to the world around us. It takes us a long time to open ourselves up to facts that can be observed. Even once we prove something within our limited worldview, its still unfathomable for most and seen as crazy or false, simply out of ignorance. All of our reality is made up of energy. All of matter is made up of over %99.999999 empty space. However thinking about ourselves as energy is still widely regarded as spiritual nonsense or woo. “All life is energy, and plants may just be more aware of this the us human beings, stuck in the limited view of just the material world.” 🌴 I believe plants are more intelligent and wise than us humans, and that we have a lot to learn from them.

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✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧ -𝓕𝓪𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓓𝓾𝓼𝓽

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