#CA native plants

[guy60660]

Pholisma Sonorae | CA Native Plants

#design #Pholisma Sonorae #CA Native Plants

[tggardens]

We did it! That's a Five Spot! That's a Five Spot flower in the yard where there were none before. The Baby Blue Eyes in the back yard might have been there before but these are definitely new.

#native plants #ca native plants #five spot #nemophila maculata #the seed sowing worked

[ssaa08]

Eclosing Monarch!

I found the first newly emerged monarch, (at least i spotted) of this year on a Clarkia taking its tentative steps, getting itself dry before taking its first flight ever! They take upto 2-4 hours to dry their wings after coming out of its chrysalis! If you found this post interesting, I would be happy if you pin it or share it on Facebook or on Twitter or Google + circles! All it takes is a…

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#backyard #butterfly #CA native plants #clarika #Eclosing #flower #flowers #garden #insect #leaves #monarch #monarch butterfly #nature #plant #plants #wildlife

[seventracks]

Natural Stone Pavers - Contemporary Landscape Photo of a sizable, modern stone garden path in the front yard that receives some sunlight in the spring.

#front yard #contemporary landscape #ca native plants #stucco retaining wall #outdoor furniture #manzanita #low water plants

[cheahup]

Concrete Pavers Front Yard

Inspiration for a mid-sized mid-century modern partial sun front yard concrete paver landscaping.

#raised vegetable garden #meadow lawn #ca native plants #mid century landscape #karl benjamin #modern wood deck #drought tolerant

[un-pearable]

OKAY IT WENT REALLY WELL my ppt was weak BUT the experiential portion (making baskets) went GREAT to the point of the prof extending the break so people could finish them before the lecture started so i think i won 👍

look at my basket progression bottom right was my janky first attempt yesterday then the round orb was in class and i just finished the flat one watchin a movie :D

#ty CA native plants i love the excuse to do fun crafts in class and im SO sad only like two other people took advantage of it

[californiabotanycertification]

Polystichum imbricans, Narrowleaf Sword Fern

Polystichum imbricans, Narrowleaf Sword Fern

perennial fern

KEY

terrestrial plant with no flowers or bulbs sporangia present

Herbs reproducing by spores released directly from sporangia, the sporangia variously located [on abaxial leaf  face, [LYCOPHYTES and FERNS]

Plant terrestrial l; leaf 1-2 pinnate,; sporangia borne on aerial portion of leaf

Leaves all alike or nearly so, the fertile [sporangium-bearing] blades very similar in size and shape to sterile blades sporangia borne on underside of leaf  blade, new leaves generally coiled, unrolling as they develop

Sori borne away from margin on underside of leaf  or leaflet, sporangia clustered in distinct sori; indusia present

Sori ± round

Blade without needle-like hairs

Indusium peltate  or round-reniform, attached ± in center of sorus , generally present and readily observable in late-season specimens ..... DRYOPTERIDACEAE

- Indusium peltate , centrally attached, without a sinus

- Veins generally free, rarely ± joined; leaf 1–3-pinnate, teeth, generally including bristle-like tips, < 4 mm ..... POLYSTICHUM

-Leaf generally 1-pinnate, rarely to partly 2-pinnate; pinnae generally simple, ± entire to serrate, in Polystichum kruckebergii sometimes 1-lobe

Leaf 10–120(200) cm; pinnae simple

Proximal pinnae ovate to lanceolate , ± = to ± 2/3 longest; stipe generally 1/5–1/2 blade

Stipe base scales lanceolate, ± 2–3 mm wide, those above proximal pinnae generally < 1 mm wide, falling early; pinnae ± in 1 plane or not; indusium ± entire to toothed ..... P. imbricans

DESCRIPTION

Rhizome: generally suberect to erect, often stout

Stipe/petiole: generally 1/5--1/2 of blade Stout, firm, generally densely scaly, base scales +- 2--3 mm wide, lanceolate, those above proximal pinnae generally, ×-section with many round vascular strands in an arc.

Blade: narrow-lanceolate to -elliptic, 1-pinnate,, proximal pinnae reduced or not, thin to leathery, scaly, veins generally free, rarely +- jointed; pinna bases often wider acroscopically; teeth, generally including bristle-like tip

Sporangia: sori round; indusium peltate [0 or reniform], sinus 0. indusium +- entire to toothed

SOURCES AND MORE INFORMATION

https://www.itis.gov/servlet/SingleRpt/SingleRpt?search_topic=TSN&search_value=17681#null

https://plants.usda.gov/core/profile?symbol=POIM

https://ucjeps.berkeley.edu/eflora/eflora_display.php?tid=10784

https://www.inaturalist.org/taxa/58763-Polystichum-imbricans

https://calphotos.berkeley.edu

https://www.instagram.com/p/CeFidZIrKxT/

https://wildflowersearch.org/search

Jepson Herbarium Youtube Polystichum Munitum

#Polystichum imbricans #Narrowleaf Sword Fern #polystichum #shield ferns #dryopteridaceae #wood fern #polypodiales #filicopsida #tracheophyta #pteridophyta #cliff sword fern #california native plants #california native #ca native #fern #botany #pinna looks a sword with a hilt

[lenisbalenas]

Pathway Landscape in Los Angeles

Inspiration for a mid-sized mediterranean drought-tolerant and full sun side yard stone garden path in spring.

#native plants #veggie boxes #southern ca #coreten steel #lush designs #patio seating #adu

[reasonsforhope]

"The Yurok will be the first Tribal nation to co-manage land with the National Park Service under a historic memorandum of understanding signed on Tuesday [March 19, 2024] by the tribe, Redwood national and state parks, and the non-profit Save the Redwoods League, according to news reports.

The Yurok tribe has seen a wave of successes in recent years, successfully campaigning for the removal of a series of dams on the Klamath River, where salmon once ran up to their territory, and with the signing of a new memorandum of understanding, the Yurok are set to reclaim more of what was theirs.

Save the Redwoods League bought a property containing these remarkable trees in 2013, and began working with the tribe to restore it, planting 50,000 native plants in the process. The location was within lands the Yurok once owned but were taken during the Gold Rush period.

Centuries passed, and by the time it was purchased it had been used as a lumber operation for 50 years, and the nearby Prairie Creek where the Yurok once harvested salmon had been buried.

Currently located on the fringe of Redwoods National and State Parks which receive over 1 million visitors every year and is a UNESCO Natural Heritage Site, the property has been renamed ‘O Rew, a Yurok word for the area.

“Today we acknowledge and celebrate the opportunity to return Indigenous guardianship to ‘O Rew and reimagine how millions of visitors from around the world experience the redwoods,” said Sam Hodder, president and CEO of Save the Redwoods League.

Having restored Prarie Creek and filled it with chinook and coho salmon, red-legged frogs, northwestern salamanders, waterfowl, and other species, the tribe has said they will build a traditional village site to showcase their culture, including redwood-plank huts, a sweat house, and a museum to contain many of the tribal artifacts they’ve recovered from museum collections.

Believing the giant trees sacred, they only use fallen trees to build their lodges.

“As the original stewards of this land, we look forward to working together with the Redwood national and state parks to manage it,” said Rosie Clayburn, the tribe’s cultural resources director.

It will add an additional mile of trails to the park system, and connect them with popular redwood groves as well as new interactive exhibits.

“This is a first-of-its-kind arrangement, where Tribal land is co-stewarded with a national park as its gateway to millions of visitors. This action will deepen the relationship between Tribes and the National Park Service,” said Redwoods National Park Superintendent Steve Mietz, adding that it would “heal the land while healing the relationships among all the people who inhabit this magnificent forest.”"

-via Good News Network, March 25, 2024

#indigenous #land back #indigenous issues #first nations #native american #indigenous peoples #yurok #yurok tribe #national parks service #national park #redwoods #california #trees #trees and forests #united states #good news #hope #indigenous land

[letzdesignlandscape]

Letz Landscape Design offers on-site consultations and landscape master plans for all varieties of San Diego landscape design projects, including drought-tolerant landscapes, xeriscaping, pergolas, outdoor kitchens, water features, fire pits or fireplaces, decks, patios, gardens, and more.

Business Name: Letz Design Landscape Website: https://www.letzdesign.com/ Email: [email protected] Phone Number: [phone] Address: San Diego, CA 92117

#landscape design san diego #san diego landscape design #landscape designers in san diego ca #xeriscape san diego #backyard design san diego #san diego backyard design #outdoor living san diego #san diego native plant landscaping

[and-stir-the-stars]

Missing Monons again 😔

#too bad i cant draw bc... cas in his greenhouse full of #plants native to heaven with monons sitting on his lap... #i want it...

[conspectusargosy]

Dudleya cymosa ssp. pumila is a succulent native and endemic to California, meaning it cannot be found growing naturally anywhere else in the world. This plant is most often found on north-facing canyon walls and roadcuts throughout the transverse ranges (a series of mountains that run east-west through CA instead of the usual north-south.) Dudleya in general have special adaptations which allow them to survive challenging environments, in this case growing in the wet but coldest part of the year and surviving a long, very hot, and very dry summer. Even in this subspecies there are many included forms, with varying traits such as flower color, leaf farina, altitude, etc., which goes in hand with Dudleya being a genus of complicated and still-developing taxonomy with quite a lot of undescribed species. Molecular phylogeny is making this possible by sampling genetic material to determine evolutionary relationships. This process is further complicated by the fact that Dudleya is a highly poached genus and many populations of unique plants are threatened by sprawling human development and introduced herbivores before they even have a chance to be recognized. Dudleya is one of my favorite genera of plants, so expect to see more of them in my posts in the future!

#dudleya #calflora #cnps #UVIVF #botanicalphotography #botany #autofluorescence

[tggardens]

OMG, Native Plant Guy had more of the Penstemon eatonii when he said he probably wouldn't! Wahoo! 🤩 Mineminemine

#and my roses #rosa californica #Penstemon eatonii #and a random mojito mint #native plants #ca native plants #California wildrose #firecracker Penstemon

[dilf-din]

Suddenly

Chapter 4: Winter

Din Djarin x florist!reader

WC: 5300 (oops)

Warnings: absolutely none, all fluff and domestic bliss. No use of y/n but reader is female presenting and has a nickname.

A/N: the final chapter is here! I’ve had so much fun writing this little world. I already have a few one shots planned, so stay tuned! As always, inspired by Venus by Sleeping at Last. Enjoy, my loves 🩷🩵

I was a billion little pieces

'Til you pulled me into focus

Astronomy in reverse

It was me who was discovered

Winter on Nevarro was busy, despite the fact that the climate was so steady that all the days blurred together. Karga liked to celebrate the changing of the seasons. He said it boosted morale, made the people there seeking shelter feel like they were on a bigger, mid-rim planet. So even though the sun still beat down with the same intensity that it did when you arrived on the planet at the beginning of the year, the town square was decorated for a weeks-long winter equinox celebration. Though he had spent most of his life on the volcanic planet, Karga’s travels had taken him around the galaxy a few times. He fondly remembered the festivals he had observed in worlds with more extreme climates.

He had recruited you to help in the decorating efforts. Your apprentice, Tal’oh, had really come into his own the past few weeks. His broad frame made it easy for him to handle the deliveries of large clay pots, bags of soil, and heavy stones that came in several times a week. Your home gardening section of the store quickly moved inventory as everyone in town was taking to creating their own green oases on the dusty planet.

Despite his large stature and equally large hands, Tal’oh was also a natural when it came to floral arrangements. He delicately trimmed and placed flowers with a soft look of determination. His dark hair fell over his eyes while the tip of his tongue stuck out from his lips in total concentration. He had been a welcome addition to the shop, coming highly recommended from the townspeople when they saw your help wanted sign. He was the grandson of one Mrs. Greebs who had been selling yard ornaments in your storefront for a few months now. She made delicate metal frames filled with stained glass that cast luminous rainbows when they caught the light.

With some help to look after the every day responsibilities, you dedicated your time to creating a collection of wreaths for the townspeople. Using some of the planet’s native plants and briars, you wove together wooden, earthy designs that people flocked to your store for. Each time you set out a new display, they sold out within the afternoon. You also painted some small signs to commemorate the equinox, a simple scene of a bright white moon rising over the lava plains. Karga beamed with pride when you brought him the first samples.

“I knew you were the right person for the job! Your cheerful spirit is going to spread to every person who sees these hanging on people’s doors.”

You sheepishly accepted the praise, relieved that what you made was to the High Magistrate’s likings. He was hosting a feast at his palace at the end of the week that everyone had been busy preparing for. The extra influx of jobs was welcome to the hardworking people of Nevarro. Everyone brought their own skills to the cause. Carpenters fashioned the extra long tables to hold the elaborate meal that would be made by the local restauranteurs. The baker was tasked with creating an elaborate cake along with an array of sweet treats showcasing the local fruits and flavors of the planet. For a place that seemed to settle into its own factions, it was nice to see the community coming together like this. Karga had done a wonderful job of busting up the gangs that once ruled the streets, bringing a long sought after peace to the residents.

You were busy working on a new set of wreaths when you heard the familiar tinkle of the bell indicating someone had walked through the door.

“Be right there!” you called from the corner bench in the work room you had spread out on, carefully tying a bundle of branches together.

“We can wait,” your favorite smooth voice responded, as you saw Din appear in doorway with Grogu in his arms. Grogu wiggled with his hands out trying to get to you, drawing a laugh from your lips as you resigned to finish your project another time.

“Come here, little one,” you said gently taking him into your lap. He held his arms straight out to give you the closest thing to a hug someone that tiny could give. Din leaned forward to press his helmet to your forehead. Your free hand rose to rest on the side of it, and his own hand met you there, giving it a gentle squeeze. He had explained to you the meaning of the keldabe kiss in Mandalorian tradition, and you revered those touches even more than the few kisses you two had stolen over the past few months.

“To what do I owe this great pleasure?” you teased, helping Grogu down onto the floor so he could waddle through the greenhouse. Din carefully moved a pile of sticks over and sat on the bench next to you.

“You’ll be attending the feast at the end of the week, correct?”

You nodded, “I don’t think I have much of a choice. I’ll probably get roped into resolving some last minute decorating snafu.”

Din paused, “Would you like to go with me?”

You turned to face him, a smile lighting up your features, “Of course, I’d love that.” Your hand found his to give it a small squeeze, a touch for a touch, always keeping the score even.

The two of your gravitated towards each other whenever you were together. Always hands resting on arms or backs, the worn tips of his gloves brushing your hair behind your ears. When he left for bounties now, he always pressed tender kisses across your neck and jaw, saying they were meant to hold you over until his return. He had spent his entire life stuck behind a wall of metal, and now that he lowered his defenses to let you in, he couldn’t get enough. He craved nearness, hating the sight of you on the lava plains growing smaller behind him each time they departed.

You yourself were surprised with the quickness with which you had fallen for him. Din was easy to talk to. Maybe it was something about the fact that you couldn’t see any judgement in his eyes like you did talking to people face to face. You thought to yourself that, one day, if you were to ever see his own eyes laid bare before you, the same thing would be true. It wasn’t the mask or the beskar, it was just who he was to his core. He longed to understand others and to be understood himself. The Mandalorians were connected by creed, a loyalty engrained in their bloodline like the iron that made it red, but they were stoic people, reserved when it came feelings and personal matters. Din had always longed for more, hoping to one day meet someone he could bare his soul to. Grogu was the first one to make his proverbial armor crack, inching his way in until he occupied every chamber of Din’s heart. Now he felt those spaces expanding, leaving space for someone else to find their way through the labyrinth, someone like you.

He had agonized for days over asking you a simple question, to go with him to the feast. He knew what your answer would be. You had both expressed your fondness for one another, but he still had seedlings of doubt trying to take root.

With the first part of this interaction out of the way, he took a deep breath as he reached into the bag at his side.

“Then I hope you will accept this as a gift for the occasion,” he said, drawing a parcel out wrapped in brown paper and tied with a delicate blue ribbon.

“What is this?” you smiled, taking it into your lap and easily undoing the knot holding it together. The paper fell away to reveal a beautiful emerald gown with gold beading. You held it up to admire the detail and care in every stitch, hands running over the small, round beads. The back was low, the sleeves were capped with a sheer material, the body of the dress being something closer to velvet.

“Din,” you said breathlessly, “This must’ve cost a fortune.”

“Price is no issue when it comes to you, I picked it up on Coruscant a few months ago. I couldn’t help but think about how nice the color would be against against your skin,” he said softly, drawing some of the skirt up to hold against your arm.

“It’s beautiful.”

“And it will look beautiful on you,” he said, rising to go.

Grogu had wandered back in holding a few tan bean pods to snack on.

“Bye bye!” he squeaked out, opening and closing his hand in your direction like the small wave that babies do.

“Bye buddy,” you smiled.

“Goodbye, cyar’ika,” Din nodded, heading back towards the front of the store.

You sank back against the wall, clutching the bundle of paper and cloth to your chest, heartbeat pulsing all the way to your fingertips as you thought about dressing up for a date with him. The two of you had talked that one night in your apartment, and several times after that, but hadn’t yet had a chance to do something together like this. You dove back into your crafting session with newfound vigor, as if working faster would convince the clock to skip a few beats and jump forward in time to the weekend.

The time did in fact pass quickly. This was the busiest week you had had at the shop to date. It seemed like everyone wanted their own solstice decorations. You were so thankful for Tal’oh’s presence to help head off the rush. The night of the banquet, you closed down shop early, slipping Tal’oh an envelope full of credits.

“Consider it a holiday bonus,” you smiled.

“Thank you,” he said in awe, giving you a quick squeeze before running home to get change out of his dusty clothes.

You locked up the shop before retreating upstairs to get yourself ready. The green gown had been hanging on the door of your closet for days now, practically calling out to you to put it on. You tried it on the second you got home earlier in the week and twirled around your living room for hours. It was a good color for you. His gift giving had been impeccable since you first met, yet he continued to surprise you with his thoughtfulness.

After washing off today’s layer of dirt, you slipped into the cool material, reveling at the way it fit so snugly against your skin, as if it was made for you. It probably was, you wouldn’t put it past Din. With some fluffing of your hair, and a fun addition of some gold eyeliner to match the dress, you were satisfied. Din was supposed to pick you up snd walk with you there. The knock on your door came just as you secured the clasp of your necklace. It was an intricate web of golden flowers given to you by your grandmother. Your hand lingered on it for just a moment as your heart ached at the thought of her seeing you all dressed up like this.

You crossed the expanse of your room quickly so as not to keep your suitor waiting, swinging the door open with an eager smile. Din, of course, was sporting his armor. Although, it seemed that he had worn a nicer cape for the occasion than his usual tattered one. He stood clutching a bouquet of flowers you recognized as ones Tal’oh had arranged earlier that day.

“Hi,” you said shyly, gesturing for him to come in.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice tinged with a gentle awe.

“Thanks, my boyfriend got me this dress,” you joked doing a little spin.

“Boyfriend?”

“I’m not quite sure what to call you,” you laughed.

He chuckled, “I’ve never been a ‘boyfriend’ before.”

“Where’s Grogu?” you asked, noticing the lack of his usual companion.

“I dropped him off with Karga already. He’s always looking for ways to spend time with him,” the hint of annoyance in his voice drew another giggle from you. You took the flowers and set them carefully on the counter behind you.

“So you’re saying I have you all to myself?” you said coyly, running your hands up his chest plates. His own arms wrapped around your waist pulling you flush to him. Muscle memory took over like you were suddenly marionettes with someone else pulling the strings, and the two of you parted, his hands drawing the curtains, yours reaching for the black scarf he got you all those months ago. You found each other again, and the sound of air rushing from his helmet signified to you that your hands were free to roam, caress the sharp angles of his jaw and get tangled in the ends of his curls.

His always nuzzled his strong nose against yours, lips ghosting over your own as he whispered to you, a mix of Mando’a and basic. “Mesh’la. Pretty, pretty girl,” he murmured.

The two of you only ever allowed yourself a few moments of these touches, not wanting to wander too far from the creed.

“We’re gonna be late,” you whispered, sneaking one last kiss before he pulled the helmet back over his mysterious face.

The walk to the palace was a short one, it being just around the corner of the town square. Evening’s dimming light painted the backdrop for the dozens of others couples making their way up the stone steps, arm in arm, just like the two of you.

You noticed wreaths hanging on every door and window, a small smile playing on your lips.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just, it’s nice to see this town doing things for beauty’s sake. It seems like a much different Nevarro than the one you’ve told me stories of.

“Cyar’ika, you’ve brought so much beauty into the lives of everyone here, including my own,” he said softly, “You can’t turn any direction in town now without seeing something touched by your kindness.”

You squeezed his arm a little tighter as you climbed the wide staircase in front of you, following the sound of laughter and low music floating out the double doors. The scene before you was like something straight out of a storybook you read as a girl on Naboo. The ceilings were so high, going straight to the top of the building with multiple crystal chandeliers casting twinkling light onto the white stone walls and floor. Grand columns rose on either side of a long great room filled with rows of long, wooden tables piled high with food. You walked down the aisle between the two tables taking in the amethyst and ruby banners hanging down from the stone railings on the balconies above you. Ivy and other greenery running in between the narrow rails added a sense of liveliness to the decorations. At the end of the rows of tables, the room opened into a large dome, the round floor decorated with a beautiful pattern of smooth tiles in every color imaginable. It seemed that that portion of the room was being reserved for dancing. On a platform to the left sat a large band playing elegant music.

You suddenly felt out of your element. You had never been somewhere as fancy as this, your heartbeat quickened in your chest, and you found yourself thankful for the steady man you found at your side. His arm now resting around you, hand at the small of your back, grounding you.

“There they are!” Karga’s voice boomed, drawing your attention to the head of the last table on the left. Your feet followed Din’s closer to the High Magistrate, noticing Grogu beside him in a new black jacket with a bow tie. He sat perched on a pile of pillows being used as a makeshift booster seat. He chirped when he saw the two of you approaching making you feel more at ease.

“What do you think, huh?” Karga grinned, clapping Din on the back. “It’s barely begun and I can already tell people will be talking about it for years to come. Come sit! You two are my guests of honor,” he gestured to the open pair of seats beside Grogu, taking your hand in his and bowing as he spun you to let you to your seat. He was in a long, deep purple robe with beautiful gold adornments on it. Din scooted your chair in for you before taking his place between you and Grogu.

It was only a few moments before Karga garnered the attention of the entire room and gave a speech about what an honor it was to have everyone there under his roof. It wasn’t until that moment that you realize you were at a feast, and Din wouldn’t be able to eat anything.

You leaned your head to his and whispered, “I’ll eat quickly, then maybe we can find a private room for you to get a bite in.”

He chuckled lowly, sliding his hand on top of yours where it rested in your lap, “I’ll be fine waiting, mesh’la, you and Grogu take all the time you need.”

Your skin burned under his touch, even through the thick leather of his gloves. As Karga’s droning came to a finite end, the room filled with scattered applause and then the sound of silverware clanking against the thick, black ceramic plates as people helped themselves to the array laid out on every table. It was a magnificent meal, decadent in a way you were unaccustomed to. You enjoyed all types of meats and breads, all the while immersed in a conversation with an older couple sat across from you. They were some of the wealthy few in Nevarro, donating heavily to Greef Karga’s campaign to clean up the city. Din watched you through the side of his visor, taking in all your little tics and quirks. The way your hand covered your mouth as you laughed, how intently you look at whomever was speaking at the moment, the way you glowed under the silver light like a star fallen to earth. But you didn’t look out of place, you looked like you belonged there. He would’ve been content to watch you for hours. He almost didn’t notice when you called his name, your hand sliding onto the exposed part of his arm above his vambrace.

“Would you like to go eat something?”

He nodded and smiled, although you couldn’t see it. You helped him pile his plate high before retreating to the library with him and Grogu. The inner rooms varied heavily from the bright stone of the main hall. The library was filled with dark wood and carpet, old books on shelves that ran to the ceilings, all warm tones and comfort compared to the cold regality that lay on the other side of the door. You doubted anyone would be making their way in there on a night like tonight, but you still locked the door for good measure. Din sat down at a large desk in a green, velvet chair while you chose a wooden bench facing the door. You heard the familiar click of his helmet releasing and smiled softly at how it had become a regular sound in your life, when you never would have dared to dream of it a few months ago.

Grogu sat on the bench next to you sharing a pastry filled with dark berries. You carefully tore off pieces to hand to him, and he chirped his thanks while Din ate quietly.

“It’s good, right?” you called over his shoulder, and he grunted his agreement through a full mouth.

“I haven’t eaten like this in a long time,” his low voice called back. You cherished every syllable that fell from his lips when the modulator wasn’t sitting between the two of you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a meal like this before,” you commented, handing the last bite of your treat to Grogu.

“I’ll have to take you to Coruscant one day, there’s a restaurant there I think you’d like,” he said so nonchalantly, as if taking a trip across the galaxy was an every day thing. Although, for him it was.

“You keep saying things like that,” you looked down at your feet, trying to focus on anything on this side of the room, ignoring the aching magnetic pull of the man behind you, longing to see his face.

He was quiet for a while before responding. “Do you think I don’t mean it?”

You instantly regretted your word choice, “No, no it’s not that. It’s just, you say it so casually, like it’s not a big deal for me to think about something like that. You’ve seen corners of the galaxy I could never imagine, I’ve only ever been here.”

“I don’t take it lightly, mesh’la,” he said softly, “I would be honored to be the one to show you the stars.”

Your breath caught in your chest, the stirring you always felt gave no indication of settling down any time soon. The draw you felt to him, the connection you two shared was starting to scare you.

You tried to change the subject in an attempt to compose yourself. “I uh, I brought you a present,” your hand shuffled into your bag to bring out a small frame wrapped in brown paper with a gold ribbon delicately tied around it. Din placed his helmet back on his head and crossed the room to take the package carefully in his hands.

“It’s not much, just a little something I’ve been working on in my free time.”

He pulled the bow loose and shrugged the ribbon off before peeling back the paper. In his hands sat a lifelike portrait of Grogu that you had painted, his big brown eyes shining and his small mouth turned up in a smile showing off the few teeth he had.

“Look, kid,” Din said angling it down for the boy to see. You couldn’t be certain, but you thought you heard his voice crack.

“Thank you, this is lovely. I’ll treasure it always.”

You smiled up at him and rose from the bench to meet him face to face.

“I actually have something for you too, but I left it at home,” he said softly, his hand moving to brush your hair behind your ear.

“Oh that’s fine, you can bring it another time,” you reassured, your own hand cradling his helmet where his jaw would be.

During your exchange, Grogu had wandered over to the tall door. “Out,” he said, tiny finger pointing at the door knob.

Din chuckled, “Let‘s go, ad’ika.”

The three of you rejoined the festivities, getting lost in the music and lights. You sipped a few of the themed cocktails one of the cantina owners had crafted for the occasion, feeling a pleasant lightness as the alcohol mixed with your blood.

Towards the end of the evening, you found yourself swaying in Din’s arms. The bright chandeliers had been dimmed by this point in the night, most of the light coming from what remained of the cranberry colored candles adorning the tables. Your head rest on his chest while the band played a slow melody. You didn’t even realize the sleepiness that was overtaking you at first. Grogu had passed out long ago atop the pillow tower he had sat on to eat. He laid on his belly with someone’s jacket draped over him, tiny snores coming from his mouth.

“I think it’s time to get you home, cyar’ika,” Din mumbled lowly, his hand gently rubbing over your back to draw your attention back to the present.

You straightened your posture and pulled away from him.

“You’re probably right,” you said with heavy eyes and a sleepy smile. “Good thing it’s just a short walk,” you continued, making your way over to the table grab your bag.

“Actually,” Din started, pausing as if he was unsure about the question about to fall from his lips, “What if you came back with me and the child, to get your gift. I have a spare room, you’re more than welcome to stay.”

“I’d love that,” you smiled, heat rising to your cheeks, a mix of the leftover buzz from the drinks and the desire to maintain the closeness you had fallen into over the evening.

You held close to his waist as the three of you sped down the barren road leading to their small cabin. You realized about halfway through the ride that this would be your first time seeing his house. You were curious to see if it revealed any more about him. Although you had spent a considerable amount of time together, he was still a bit of a mystery.

Their home soon faded into view, and Din pulled the speeder to a gentle stop, hopping off to offer you a hand off. You bunched your skirt up and slid down easily with his hand to steady you. Grogu was still fast asleep in the crook of his arm. You followed him up the stone path, pausing to admire the window boxes he had planted months ago with millaflowers in full bloom. On the front door, hung a wreath you had made specially for him with a smaller one for Grogu hanging off the bottom. Traces of you were all over, and you hadn’t even crossed the threshold into the house yet.

The front door opened up into a small hall with a coat rack holding some of Grogu’s robes and Din’s extra cape. The kitchen lay dead ahead and opened into the living room. At the end of the living room was another hall leading to two bedrooms separated by a bathroom. He quickly made his way across the length of the house to tuck Grogu into his bassinet.

You wandered into the kitchen, your shoes making a clacking sound on the adobe tile. There was a half empty bowl of fruit on the counter, no doubt for the ravenous toddler at the end of the hall. The sink held an empty mug with caf stains, and you smiled at the thought of mornings spent with Din. The fridge was covered in scribbled drawings of Grogu’s held up with colorful magnets. You smiled when you noticed the same “Welcome to Nevarro” one Din had gifted you.

On the window above the sink sat two small cactus like plants native to Nevarro. You leaned forward to admire the yellow bloom on top of the smaller one when you heard feet padding towards you, your breath hitching when you felt a bare knuckle gently drag the length of your spine.

“This is pretty,” his voice came through the modulator softly, signifying that he still had his helmet on, “What does it mean?”

You realized he had never seen your full tattoo before, the low back of the dress highlighted it perfectly.

“There’s a flower for all eight people in my family. My sister and brothers, my parents, and me,” you explained, tucking your chin into your shoulder and eying his figure behind you. He had stripped off his beskar and was in simple clothes for bed, a long sleeved black shirt and dark grey sweatpants. You had never seen his bare hands before. His fingers carefully traced the petals on your back before cupping your elbows. He was drinking in every second of touch he could get.

“Would you want a big family of your own one day?” his voice came out barely a whisper.

“With the right person, maybe,” you whispered back, turning more to meet his eyes fully beneath the visor.

You stood locked like that for what felt like hours, neither one of you daring to speak next.

“I laid out some clothes for you on the guest bed if you’d like to go change,” he said, finally pulling himself away from you.

“As beautiful as this dress is, my feet are killing me,” you smiled, reaching to hook off your shoes with one finger. The kitchen tiles were cold and slightly rough against your bare feet. He gestured down the hall for you to go get ready for bed, and you gladly followed, the tiredness of the evening setting back in. You took the shirt and pants he had laid out for you into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. Using a rag and cold water, you easily cleansed your face of makeup. Slipping out of the dress he bought you and into his clothes felt like a holy moment, the answer to a long uttered prayer in the middle of the night.

You met him back in the living room. He was stretched out on the sofa, arms wide across the back making a welcome space for you to fit into. A habit as easy as breathing, you fit yourself against his side. His arm came down to hold you close to his chest. Your hands found his, running over every vein and scar, committing them to memory.

“You said you wanted to bring me here because you had a gift for me?” you suddenly remembered, shifting to sit upright.

He reached to the far end of the sofa and pulled out a long box, not very thick. He handed it to you wordlessly. You lifted the lid to find a black velvet pouch inside. Untying the strings at the top revealed what looked like the handle of a knife. You pulled out a small dagger that fit perfectly in your hand. The handle was black, possibly made out of the tusk of an animal, with delicate flowers carved into it. It a had a matching sheath that, when removed, held a thin, silver blade.

“Is this beskar?” you asked breathlessly.

Din nodded, “I took my spear to the Armorer, and she melted part of it down to forge the blade.” He turned it over in your hand to show you the other side which had his clan’s insignia etched into it.

“Din,” you gasped.

“I know you’ve read up on Mandalorian tradition based on prior conversations, I just want to clarify, this means exactly what you think it does. We already think of you as a part of our clan, I hope you’ll consider making it official.”

“Din Djarin, are you asking me to marry you?”

“Ner kar’ta, cyare, you are the one I’ve searched the deepest waters and driest deserts for. Your heart is the one that beats in time with mine. To live the rest of my days by your side would be the highest honor,” his voice tremored as he took your hands in his.

“Din, I was so scared to let myself dream of a future with you,” your eyes filled with tears, “But it’s what I’ve hoped for since the day we met.”

“I knew from the first moment that I saw you in the parade that are hearts were meant to be bound to one another,” he said softly, firm hands cupping your jaw. He wiped a single stray tear away with his thumb.

His forehead pressed to yours, and you felt something settle over your shoulders and run down your limbs to your fingertips. Something akin to peace, belonging. You had found your home away from home.

Mando’a translations

Mesh’la: beautiful

Cyar’ika: sweetheart

Cyare: beloved

Ner kar’ta: my heart

Ad’ika: little one

A/N part 2: Tal’oh is pronounced with a soft a like tallow, not a hard one like tail-oh

Taglist: @harriedandharassed thank you for always reading 🖤

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x female reader #din djarin fic #suddenly

[teddywesworl]

if you're still doing the wip thing... The last mile? your mass effect au makes me feral

I just tried to answer this and tumblr fucking ATE my response but yeah i'm working on it, it's set half at the beginning and half at the end of the Reaper War with the Hawkins assigned to Project Crucible (part 1) and the London assault (part 2). tonally it's very me3 so im gonna be kinda nervous about posting it, especially as it may require a MCD tag lmaoooooo (not them though. never them)

i have no idea when it's going to be completed, though, so here's a sizeable chunk of the opening, complete with epistolary-ish framing device to match DTA:

EDDIE 1

Fig. 1: Perspectives on Tayseri Ward, an award-winning photograph of the Citadel by acclaimed asari photographer Lidilya Ranis, ca. 2182. Note the near-atmospheric effect of the gas and dust of the Serpent Nebula creating depth of field between the camera’s lens and the Presidium Ring.

*

The Citadel is different than he remembers, but it’s also the same.

He and Steve see it differently. Steve thanks air traffic control in person on their way through security and comments on the Sur’Kesh native trees freshly planted in the commercial district. Eddie marks the C-Sec man tailing them while they eat tacos from a super gimmicky Thessia-Earth fusion restaurant and spots a pickpocket watching them from an alley. It’s a human girl, maybe thirteen. No visible tattoos or marks, but that doesn’t mean much when the kid is wearing a beanie and a scarf and a bulky jacket that’ll hide plenty of take. Eddie angles himself so the cop can’t see his face, makes eye contact with the girl, and shakes his head.

They’re in the Mid-Ward, a part of Zakera that Eddie should know intimately. It feels strange not to recognize the large majority of the storefronts, replaced as so many were in the aftermath of the geth attack in ‘83, but the longer he looks, the clearer it becomes that the bones are the same. Eddie rebuilds the map in his head from the position of keeper ports, maintenance panels, walkways—and vents.

He falls behind Steve just staring at a vent tucked between an Armax vendor and a pop-up shop selling the elcor equivalent of beer. Steve walks another dozen feet, maybe, before he notices Eddie’s not beside him and doubles back.

“You okay?” Steve says, fingertips brushing Eddie’s elbow.

Eddie shakes himself off and nods. “Yeah, sorry,” he says. “Um. I used to sleep in there, I think. I’m pretty sure that’s the one.”

Steve frowns, his eyes moving from storefront to storefront, gliding over the vent like it isn’t there until he remembers. “Oh,” he says. His hand slides down Eddie’s forearm, and he laces their fingers together.

Eddie feels oddly disconnected from his own body. He doesn’t think he would fit in that vent, now, but that’s sort of the point, isn’t it? That’s what a duct rat is. You stop being a duct rat when you can’t fit anymore. Or when the wrong fan powers up and chews you to pieces.

Eddie unfocuses his eyes and doesn’t quite look at the C-Sec man still pretending not to follow them. It’s a turian, hanging around some fifty paces behind them, and he’s obvious in a way that’s kind of aggravating, because turians make up something like half a percent of the Mid-Ward’s population, and the real residents don’t dress business casual. There’s a tension welling up, raw from the vents and the cops and the collision between memory and immediate reality. He bounces on the balls of his feet, indecisive. Then he squeezes Steve’s hand, locks eyes with the turian, and crooks his finger at the guy, beckoning.

There’s a strange hanging moment where the cop looks like he’s gonna try to disappear into the crowd, but then he accepts that he’s been made and approaches. Steve looks surprised to see him; his posture gets a little guarded, so Eddie squeezes his hand again.

“That’s close enough,” Eddie says at a distance of ten or so paces. He’s not in the mood for this, doesn’t feel like playing a game, so he just says: “Why?”

Steve stays quiet, apparently satisfied to let Eddie handle this.

The turian’s mandibles twitch. “I’m,” he says. “I don’t…”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Why’d they send you?” he says.

“They didn’t say,” says the cop. Eddie’s not sure he believes him, but at least he’s not playing completely dumb.

“Get out of here,” Eddie says. “Tell them you were made. Also tell them the Alliance doesn’t appreciate C-Sec harassing its N7s on shore leave.”

The mandibles twitch again. Turian hearts aren’t quite like human hearts, but the rhythm of this one changes enough to confirm Eddie’s suspicions that the guy at least didn’t know who Steve was. “Right,” he says. Leaving is an awkward thing, but he manages it, walking off in a straight line.

Eddie sighs when he’s gone.

“How long’s he been there?” Steve asks.

“Since security,” Eddie replies. “Fuckin’ amateur hour, sending a turian. Especially since there’s a ton of human cops now.”

Steve hums thoughtfully. “You ready?” he says.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, and it’s the truth. He wasn’t sure it would be, when Hop offered to call in a favor, when the message hit his inbox, or even when he stepped out of the Hawkins airlock and onto an Alliance dock this morning. He just kept saying yes and moving forward because he knew he’d regret it if he didn’t.

He keeps holding onto Steve’s hand as they move through and past the crowds toward Oji Way Warehouses, a row of storage units guarded by sectional doors and the occasional krogan hired gun. One such krogan, a scarred old brute with a cracked green frontal plate, approaches to grunt at them about what they’re doing down here, to move along if they don’t have business.

“We do,” says Steve. “We’re looking for somebody.”

“That so, soldier boy?” says the krogan. Eddie ducks his chin to hide a smile, because yeah, even in civvies, Steve sticks out like a sore thumb.

“Munson,” says Steve. “That’s the name.”

The krogan turns his head to get a better look at them out of a single eye. “What d’you want with Wayne?”

#fic wip #the last mile #ask

[californiabotanycertification]

Azolla filiculoides, Duckweed fern

Azolla filiculoides, Duckweed fern

Azollaceae/Salvinaceae

KEY

Aquatic plant with no flowers or bulbs, sporangia present

Plant body various,  leaves various, plant free-floating, emergent, or submersed

Plant raft-like, free-floating on water surface or stranded along shore or in drying bottom sediments, breaking apart into individuals or small clumps

Plant body differentiated into a short, often branched stem with small, minutely velvety-papillate, scale-like leaves

Leaves 0.5–1.5 mm, alternate [each with a thick green or ± red-tinged floating lobe and a thin, colorless submersed lobe]; upper surface of floating lobe papillate or with short, inconspicuous hairs [Azollaceae]

Stems  forming round to elongate plants to 3 cm, 2 cm wide; leaves ovate or oblong-ovate, generally 1.2–2 mm, 1 mm wide; leaf margins of upper (± green or ± red) leaf lobes with broad ± white band of cells >= 4 cells wide; male spore mass barbs lacking partitions

DESCRIPTION

Annual Fern, California Native, usually found in ponds and slow streams. Small free floating fern on mud/water roots. Green to +- red. with white margins ,round to elongate plants to 3 cm, 2 cm wide.

Roots Rhizome: roots hang in water, form dense clump

Stem: fork, pinnate thread like, generally 1--3 cm: immature prostrate, internodes < 5 mm;

Leaf: small overlapping scale like leaves cover stem, leaf has sublte papillae, green-red

Sporangium Case: clear yellowish orb, female with distinct equatorial girdle, wall tubercled and pitted. male spores mass barbs lacking partition

Fun facts: Used as green manure in rice paddies because of nitrogen-fixing algae (cyanobacterium Ananbaena Azollae) in upper leaf lobe. Made fossil fuels and can double it mass in 3 day

SOURCES AND MORE INFORMATION

Jepson eflora Azolla filiculoides

Integrated Taxonomic Information System - Report

Calscape Mosquito Fern

Wildflower Search

Youtube of Azolla filiculoides

#california native plants #ca native #annual fern #Azolla filiculoides #duckweed fern #azollaceaea #mother of fossil fuels #nitrogen fixing #pacific azolla #pacific mosquito fern #azolla #azollaceae #salviniales #polypodiopsida #tracheophyta #plantae #plants #scv native