“Now that shadow has dissolved the heavens’ blue dome, I can see Andromeda again; I stand pressed to the window, rapt and shrunk in the galaxy’s chill glare. ‘Nostalgia of the Infinite,’ di Chirico: cast shadows stream across the sunlit courtyard, gouging canyons. There is a sense in which shadows are actually cast, hurled with a power, cast as Ishmael was cast, out, with a flinging force. This is the blue strip running through creation, the icy roadside stream on whose banks the mantis mates, in whose unweighed waters the giant water bug sips frogs. Shadow Creek is the blue subterranean stream that chills Carvin’s Creek and Tinker Creek; it cuts like ice under the ribs of the mountains, Tinker and Dead Man. Shadow Creek storms through limestone vaults under forests, or surfaces anywhere, damp, on the underside of a leaf. I wring it from rocks; it seeps into my cup. Chasms open at the glance of an eye; the ground parts like a wind-rent cloud over stars. Shadow Creek: on my least walk to the mailbox I may find myself knee-deep in its sucking, frigid pools. I must either wear rubber boots, or dance to keep warm.”
Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek (1974)

nevver:

On the edge of experience, Wanda Koop

(Source: wandakoop.com)

“…the air so still it aches like the place where the tooth was on the morning after you’ve been to the dentist or aches like your heart in the bosom when you stand on the street corner waiting for the light to change and happen to recollect how things once were and how they might have been yet if what happened had not happened.”
Robert Penn Warren, All the King’s Men (via stucktoearth)
“Using more than two decades of data on 38 species of birds gathered by thousands of “citizen scientists” through the Cornell University Laboratory of Ornithology’s Project FeederWatch, the Wisconsin researchers show that birds typically found in more southerly regions are gradually pushing north, restructuring the communities of birds that spend their winters in northern latitudes.

To the causal observer of backyard birds, the list of species becoming more common includes the readily familiar: cardinals, chipping sparrows and Carolina wrens. These birds and other warm-adapted species, according to Princé and Zuckerberg, have greatly expanded their wintering range in a warmer world, a change that may have untold consequences for North American ecosystems.

"Fifty years ago, cardinals were rare in the northeastern United States. Carolina wrens even more so," explains Zuckerberg, a UW-Madison assistant professor of forest and wildlife ecology.

An estimated 53 million Americans maintain feeding stations near their homes, according to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, suggesting that increases in some species may be attributable to more readily available sources of food. However, that figure has remained constant, reflecting only a slight decline since 1991, indicating that environmental factors beyond the availability of food sources are at play.

The Wisconsin researchers measured the changes over time in the abundance of 38 bird species at feeders in eastern North America, specifically looking at the influence of changes in winter minimum temperature over a 22-year period on the flocks of birds that gather at backyard feeding stations.

"We conclude that a shifting winter climate has provided an opportunity for smaller, southerly distributed species to colonize new regions and promote the formation of unique winter bird assemblages throughout eastern North America," Princé and Zuckerberg write in their Global Change Biology report.”
likeafieldmouse:

Brandi Strickland

reblog if u are a LESBIAN, support LESBIANS, or are an ANGRY SPACE WITCH THAT IS TIRED OF THE BOURGEOISIE

(Source: auntiewitch)

If we can’t write diversity into sci-fi, then what’s the point? You don’t create new worlds to give them all the same limits of the old ones. (x)

(Source: wintersoldiers)

reblog if you ARE bisexual, SUPPORT bisexuals, or are a FIVE-HUNDRED FOOT TALL AMPHIBIOUS MONSTER arising out of the MARIANA TRENCH

(Source: lexicaltrap)

“I had thought, because I had seen the tree with the lights in it, that the great door, by definition, opens on eternity. Now that I have ‘patted the puppy’ —now that I have experienced the present purely through my senses—I discover that, although the door to the tree with the lights in it was opened from eternity, as it were, and shone on that tree eternal lights, it nevertheless opened on the real and present cedar. It opened on time: Where else? That Christ’s incarnation occurred improbably, ridiculously, at such-and-such a time, into such-and-such a place, is referred to—with great sincerity even among believers—as ‘the scandal of particularity.’ Well, the ‘scandal of particularity’ is the only world that I, in particular, know.”
Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek (1974)
likeafieldmouse:

Deyson Gilbert - Glass With Holy Water Next To Glass With Common Water (2010)

likeafieldmouse:

Deyson Gilbert - Glass With Holy Water Next To Glass With Common Water (2010)

“Nature is, above all, profligate. Don’t believe them when they tell you how economical and thrifty nature is, whose leaves return to the soil. Wouldn’t it be cheaper to leave them on the tree in the first place? This deciduous business alone is a radical scheme, the brainchild of a deranged manic-depressive with limitless capital. Extravagance! Nature will try anything once. This is what the sign of the insects says. No form is too gruesome, no behavior too grotesque. If you’re dealing with organic compounds, then let them combine. If it works, if it quickens, set it clacking in the grass; there’s always room for one more; you ain’t so handsome yourself. This is a spendthrift economy; though nothing is lost, all is spent.”
Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek (1974)