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#Sagebrush
riverwindphotography · 4 months
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Sun and Sage
(c) riverwindphotography
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solitary-seaweed · 29 days
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when i decorated erik’s home on sagebrush some time ago
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climbhighsleeplow · 8 days
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The Hard Life of Sagebrush
Walkabout- March 20
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reclusiveopossum · 1 year
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"I'm gonna do a drawing of dally's anatomy eventually." Hype, hype, hype- hope you have fun writing and arting!
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I DID IT. I DID THE THING. Snake anatomy is so freaking weird. Like- they have one baby lung and one really long lung and lots of weird empty spaces that humans don’t have cuz our organs are so packed together.
Anyway, here he is. I’m positive I either misspelled something or forgot something but whatever
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sitting-on-me-bum · 29 days
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Free-roaming horses run though sagebrush off Highway 127 near Death Valley Junction, California
Photograph: David Becker/Zuma Press/Shutterstock
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sumbluespruce · 11 months
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Early evening in the Absarokas
©me Source: my photo
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photosofsouthwestmt · 6 months
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Pronghorn
A pronghorn buck I found the other day. The rut is in full swing, and the bigger bucks are less spooky.
Nikon D500, Manual Mode, Tamron 150-600mm VC G2, F/6.3, ISO 500, ET 1/6400, Focal Length 600mm, Handheld, Vibration Control on
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Video
Wild Foal
flickr
Wild Foal by Tania Simpson Via Flickr: Osoyoos, BC There are many wild horses where I live. On my way to work, I spotted this beautiful foal with the herd that I regularly see near home.
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burnsoregonphotoblog · 5 months
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"Coyote Jack" A Noted Trapper of Harney County Ore.
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karjalantroll · 1 year
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please live forever, dear land I would fall into grief and shed bitter tears if you were suddenly gone  Please, my beloved land
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ginger-thunder · 3 months
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Ok my embroidery skills are popping off tho 😊
(Thread/floss is Threadworx 51154 Bradley’s Balloons #8. Sagebrush pattern is from TurkeyFeathers and the collar is a coral running stitch. Fabric is cotton poplin.)
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riverwindphotography · 2 months
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Reaching Out
(c) riverwindphotography, January 2024
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solitary-seaweed · 2 years
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fauna moved in so i made her a cozy cabin 🍄🌼🍒
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climbhighsleeplow · 8 days
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Sagebrush & Lichens
Walkabout - March 20
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reclusiveopossum · 1 year
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Sagebrush - Part 6
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may or may not have neglected to edit it cuz ocd brain said no, but I'll do it later. for now, have stinky children figuring things out.
CW: Mentions of Nonsexual Safe, Soft Vore, Light Panic, Shock, Mentions of Using People (Indigenous peoples being referred to as 'Indians' because it's the terminology that would have been used at the time, not because I think it's correct)
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I watched the puffs of sand billow over my feet as I huddled in the cool water, back turned to the snake. He’d insisted on staying close, but although he seemed confused, hadn’t argued when asked not to look. Like he owed it to me or something. . . Which of course he did, but I hadn’t expected him to think so. Maybe I’d misjudged him. . . That is if any of what he’d said was true. But why would he have. . . I swallowed, screwing my eyes shut. My release wouldn’t make sense if he was lying. Aside from the slightly worsened ache of my ribs, I was virtually unharmed. Physically. Mentally that is. . . well, I didn’t think my brain had yet to catch up with the events of the last hour. I craned my head furtively over my shoulder to peek at the balled form of Dallas, hidden somewhere inside his coiled tail. There had to be some truth to it or I’d be burned at the very least. And I wasn’t.
My shoulders caved a bit closer to each other and my fingers pressed into my sides, letting my chin brush the surface of the water. I wished he’d have given me a bit more space, but he’d been so insistent- looked so scared- that I hadn’t had the heart to argue for it. I thought for the first time I might’ve caught a glimpse of what he was like on the inside in more than just the literal sense. Though that didn’t explain why he’d seem so terrified at the prospect of my death. He couldn’t really be that lonely, could he? It wasn’t exactly as though I’d been kind to him. 
Nothing about him made sense, but I supposed maybe overthinking it wasn’t the best idea. If he wasn’t lying, and as shocking as it was, I was inclined to believe he wasn’t, he’d been trying to keep me alive and I was still breathing last I checked. 
I closed my eyes again, taking a few deliberate breaths before plunging my head beneath the shimmering surface and pulling it back up, sending droplets of water flying to scatter down across the stream again as I shook my head. Once I’d scraped my hands through my hair and rid it of as much slime as I thought was possible, I pulled my trousers and shirt in to provide them with the same treatment. 
Finally, I stood, roughly wringing them out until they were little more than damp and climbing from the water to dress, eyeing the pile of black and tan scales as I did. As hard as I tried not to let my mind wander to how I’d literally been encased in them an hour or so ago, it landed there inevitably and I was left staring at my feet wet bare feet and the bits of dirt clinging to them. 
“You. . . dressed?” It was honestly sort of funny how hesitant he sounded, I had half a mind to tell him I was bare naked, but I didn’t. He was anxious, and possibly just as shaken as I was, and it wouldn’t have been kind.
“Yeah, I’m dressed.” I nodded, sticking my hands in my pockets and mentally grimacing at the way the fabric stuck and dragged at my skin. I was going to end up with rashes at this rate, but with how on edge the snake creature already seemed, among other reasons, it wasn’t as though I could walk around without clothes. 
He uncurled himself, slightly, his head poking up from the tangle, brow furrowed in something akin to uncertainty, and I hated how instinct told me to run or flinch or defend myself. For so many reasons. “I caught quail if you still want it,” 
Wetting my lips hesitantly, I nodded. “I. . . I could eat, yeah,” 
He paused before turning to scoop something up and sliding closer to the stream and consequently, me. My pulse tattered upward and I only stared dumbly at him as I grappled with the fear welling into my lungs and pressing against my bruised ribs. He hadn’t hurt me- he’d never even tried, but-
I wedged my hands into my armpits and resumed my scrutiny of the ground. 
“Don’t cook much obviously, but I c’n get the fire going if you can do the rest,” I blinked, slowly registering the offer between watching him gather tinder; not a difficult thing with all the dry brush.
“Yeah, I cook,”
Humming in affirmation, he slid the bag from his shoulders, letting the coat fall with it, and sat back to go about rummaging through the former's pockets.  
I practically forced my legs forward like one might those of a doll and pulled myself to his side, only to pause at the two bits of. . . something he’d drawn from within the bag and was now cracking together over the pile of scraggly twigs and grass. My head tipped sideways, the unwanted anxiety fading for a moment in place of curiosity. “What’re those?”
He stopped momentarily to look up at me before resuming. “Flint ‘nd pyrite. . . traded for ‘em from the Paiute; south of here,” Bits of glowing orange split off from where the two pieces of stone hit each other, falling into his bundle of dead plant matter. All of it looked so small in comparison to his fingers; clumped together the way you might hold a nearly spent chalk stub.
“So you- you trade with Indians?” Still carried by inquisition for the moment, my nerves seemed begrudgingly willing to sit back long enough for my questions to be answered.
“The- oh, yeah. . .” His lips pressed thin with some suppressed emotion I couldn’t quite puzzle out.
I scuffed my foot against a flat bloom of crabgrass, frowning. “Aren’t they. . . afraid you’ll- y-y’know. . ?”
“No, we’ve got good ties with the Paiute; Sahaptin too. We’re friendly with most of the old humans,” The underlying implications quelled any other questions I might have and I edged away a bit, sitting adjacent to him a yard or two off, picking at the bits of grass poking up around me. It made sense I supposed, but it didn’t exactly make me feel safe. 
Seeming to sense this though, he sighed and I felt him lean closer. “Listen, I’m. . . the plan was never to hurt you and it-” his words broke away as the snarl of dead plant matter caught and he scooped it up to blow on it, tipping his face close as the orange flared with each exhale until it was burning in earnest and he set it down to carefully arrange more substantial sticks against it. “-still isn’t, even if you’re. . .” his eye flicked sideways before returning to me. “I- it doesn’t matter. As long as you don’t try and kill me, you’ll be fine.” His hands came up to fiddle with something at the back of his head and I realized it was the knot in his bandanna. “You need anything else? I’m- I’ll admit ‘m not the best at cleaning things, and if you’re fine, I’m gonna do laundry,” 
The bandanna fell into his hands and I quickly redirected my attention to scooping up both quail from where he’d laid them to keep myself from paying too much attention to the glazed, slightly drifting eye or the deep, pocked scars surrounding it. Making him self conscious or uncomfortable by staring was the last thing I intended on doing, even if he claimed he had no intention of hurting me.
“It’s fine, I know how. . .”
I was busy working to pluck the quail when he nodded, retreating to the stream. 
We worked in mutual silence that way for a while and it left me with little more to do than allow my mind to wander. What it stumbled over, was the reason why the snake seemed so insistent on my survival, almost protective if I didn’t know better. What had I done to cause that? He hadn’t had a problem killing the men who were holding me, why was I any different? Pity maybe, which wasn’t something that I wanted by any means, but I supposed I could stomach it for now if it kept me alive.
By the time both birds were effectively naked and gutted, I’d had to save the fire from dying at least six times, and Dallas was setting his clothes over several bushes to dry, I had bits of slimy down stuck beneath my fingernails and the light around us was growing a steadily deeper shade of yellow as late afternoon faded into early night. I twisted to break off a few branches from one of the bushes at my back and strip them of the flimsy twigs sprouting off them, squering each carcass on it’s own stick and pausing, looking across to the Dally for assistance. “Any chance you could hold these over the fire for me while I wash bird guts off my hands?”
I was still doing my best not to let my eyes linger against his face longer than was natural, so I was occupying myself by haphazardly picking feathers and fluff from my sticky hands while simultaneously holding the sticks and didn’t catch his nod. So I was about to ask again when large hands materialized out of nowhere to take the branches from me and I was startled into looking up, not expecting the soft expression I was met with. 
He waved a hand at the stream. “Go on, I’ll end up charing them to a crisp if you take too long-”
When I’d eaten and the long, pink glowing shadows had slid away into soft brown ones, the moon not quite ready to show itself, the snake swept his tail over the fire, grinding it into the ground before testing the shirts to see they were dry and pulling one over his head. He butted his head into my back the same way he had that morning and I found it wasn’t quite as hard to resist flinching now. “You ready for sleep, ‘cause. . . dunno if it’s jus’ me, but it’s been a hell of a day and I’m exhausted.”
Snickering, I reached back to brush a hand over his hair without really registering what it was I was doing, though I dropped my hand as soon as I did. “Might not wake up for another week if you let me,”
He grinned wearily and I had little chance to protest when I was scooped up and deposited in a curl of his tail shortly there after. “You don’t seem to be able to grasp the fact that I am capable of transporting myself,”
Winding his tail in a careful sort of nest around both of us, he finally laid down, nestled between against himself, his back facing me. “Yeah, yeah. . . maybe I just like carrying you,” 
It was so off hand, and I couldn’t imagine he actually intended it the way I’d automatically interpreted, but even so. . . “Don’t say shit like that. Go to sleep, you moron. . .” 
The way his visible shoulder shook faintly suggested I was being laughed at, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of a response and it wasn’t long after that his breath evened out and he relax fully. Satisfied he wasn’t awake to mock me, I turned over and leaned lightly against him. Maybe I didn’t know him, but that didn’t mean the weight of someone else breathing against my back wasn’t soothing. If. . . if he really was telling the truth about never meaning to hurt me, I was probably safer with him than I ever had been on my own. Anyone who came after me would probably end up dead and I wouldn’t even be responsible. It wasn’t. . . it wasn’t using someone if they were doing it of their own free will, was it?
My train of thought was lopped clean in half when subject of it shifted in his sleep, rolling over with one arm flopping over me, the other curled loosely under and the rings of scaled muscle around us rearranged themselves. Lips brushed the back of my neck and my already rigid frame stiffened completely, nails digging into the dirt, breath coming in shallow, irregular wisps. 
I was about to haul off and slap him before running as far as I could get when a deep intake of air rasped against my skin and I turned my face just enough to make out his slack features. I lay my head back down, eyes still wide, heart still throbbing in my ears, but still now. He was asleep. He was. . .
A hand came up to grip lightly at his arm, closing my eyes and exhaling slowly. It was fine, he wasn’t- I was safe. . .
If he woke up this way, he’d probably either pretend it never happened or be comically embarrassed over it, and neither were harmful. I sort of pet his arm curling up so my back was pressed to his chest.
He wasn’t bad company, and even if I wasn’t allowed to leave, I could make things work. 
I let myself fall into sleep, drifting on its soft currant, cradled against the fading warmth and the tangible heartbeat. Maybe I was using him, maybe I wasn’t, maybe I didn’t care.
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~Fun Facts with Iris~ continuing this simply because my researchings leads to me learning facts that I need to vomit back to you
-Lighters were invented by German chemist Johann Wolfgang Döbereiner in 1823 (two years after our present)
-Matches were accidentally invented in the western world in 1826 by British pharmacist John Walker (but were first invented in china by a lower class court women during a siege in 577 AD)
-flint and iron pyrite was the primary fire-starting method for the indigenous peoples of the area.
<- Part 5
~~~~~
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moodboardmix · 2 years
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Logan Pavilion, Jackson, Wyoming, United States,
CLB Architects,
Photography: Kevin Scott
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