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The Sensitive fern (Onoclea sensibilis), also known as the bead fern, is a coarse-textured, medium to large-sized perennial fern. The name comes from the observation by early American settlers that it was very sensitive to frost, the fronds dying quickly when first touched by it. It is the sole species in the monotypic genus Onoclea.
Description
"Beads" of the Bead Fern Onoclea sensibilis
The sterile and fertile fronds of this fern are quite different. The bright, yellow-green sterile fronds are deeply pinnatifid and are typically borne at intervals along a creeping rhizome. They grow to about 90 cm long, with a long, smooth stipe. The fertile fronds are much smaller, non-green, and have very narrow pinnae. The sori are clustered like beads or grapes on the upright fertile fronds, hence the common name Bead fern. The fiddleheads are a pale red color.
Habitat
This fern dwells in a variety of wet swamp and wood habitats: wet meadows, thickets and bogs, as well as stream and riverbanks and roadside ditches. It ranges from Newfoundland to Florida and west to Texas, North Dakota and Manitoba, but is also native to east Asia and has become naturalized in western Europe.
It grows best in a shaded or partially shaded area in a moist soil. The plant will tolerate wet soils and so can be used near water. Winter survival will be enhanced if the dried fronds are left on the plant through the winter. Sensitive ferns spread to form colonies and are often the first species to inhabit disturbed areas. They can become weedy if not sited properly. In shade it can tolerate dryer conditions, but if grown in full sun it practically needs to be in soggy ground or at the very edge of water.
Onoclea sensibilis is also a facultative wetland indicator, toxic, and a host to the pathogen which causes bacterial wilt in rice.
On our way to Halifax from Sydney, we drove along the south shore of Bras d'Or Lake and saw it in its widest part. I was very intrigued by this lake which is proportionately much too large in relation to the size of Cape Breton Island. It is huge, a real inland sea!
Bras d'Or Lake water is brackish, a mixture of ocean water and fresh water from rain, groundwater and surface runoff. Its salinity is a little more than half the salinity of ocean water (22 parts per thousand compared to 35 ppt in the ocean); the lake sits at sea level and is influenced by tides. The lake supports a variety of aquatic species (oysters, crab, scallops, mackerel, flounder, cod) but is very sensitive to water pollution because circulation both within the lake and between the lake and the ocean is very slow due to lack of currents and the relatively small size of the main channel that connects it to the sea i.e. the Great Bras d'Or Channel (see picture posted earlier in this set).
This brings to an end this set on our 2004 trip across the province of Nova Scotia. Thank you all for your interest.
sueños mutuos
sueños urbanos
sueños burdos
sueños de anataños
rurales,
castrastroficos y sexuales -
Model: Luzonirik_77
Metro ValparaÃso
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Ujjala Biswas, a woman fish farmer taking care her vegetables garden beside the pond dike for nutrition sensitive aquaculture at Goaldhanga, Jashore.
Man, when circuits get extra small, they get extra cute.
Once a 3V coin battery is attached the blue LED will light up in the dark. This one's gonna be an earring.
This year, cancer will attack and kill more than 560,000 people in the United States. It is the second leading cause of death in this country. Researchers at Pacific Northwest National Laboratory are developing new stimuli sensitive polymers to deliver therapeutic agents directly to the cancer tumor site, minimizing the side effects caused by whole-body cancer treatments. These new polymers remain in a liquid form when dissolved in water, but form a solid gel under various stimuli such as body heat.
For more information, visit www.pnl.gov/news/
Terms of Use: Our images are freely and publicly available for use with the credit line, "Courtesy of Pacific Northwest National Laboratory." Please use provided caption information for use in appropriate context.
The Place Nightmares Are Made Of
Sometimes life seems similar to a paint bucket minus the lid, being so sensitive to any movement around it, and though I may not have completely learned how to take full control of my own, sometimes having a couple of bumps and spills, I know that I am still doing something right, I mean, I must be. See, every time I look at where I left off, all I can say is "right on," because I write off the bad right off the bat. I keep the good memories for bad moments, and sometimes even these bad moments can create good memories of their own. See, life is a hectic and jumbled mess of shit and shining silver. Becoming sad in moments is great though, it shows you're still very much alive and capable of human emotion and compassion, not only that, but more often than not, there is something to be learned from it. Kind of like when you leave your car under the wrong tree in summer, while birds nest above for hours.
The sad sight of these post-apocalyptic scenes is, at times not far off from such similar a thought. I find beauty in these sad and desolate locations, while a lot of people may find them rather unsightly, I look past the cracking faces to see beauty within them. We must find a certain charm within this great sadness to truly be able to find full allure and happiness through the entire world surrounding us. The forgotten are a unique collection, each one being different than the last, thus how we are as people. Everything might look devastatingly broken before your eyes, but picture the good times, wonderful memories and history. Remember that not everything around you is broken like this, and if you learn to find beauty in this destruction, it will be so much easier to find beauty and happiness outside of it.
People previously contained within these particular walls had not been given the same gift that you and I have; the gift of free will to roam our Earth. As we enter a small town nearly 2 hours from Atlanta, we find ourselves amidst silent destruction, sat centered atop a hill within a desolate Southern town. The sweltering heat made it a sweaty chore climbing the hill headed up to the sanitarium, but at least this time we had some decently fresh water accompanying us in our backpacks. The fact that such a large structure had been left behind to collapse under the Georgia heat was alone an odd sight, but yet stranger, how incredibly quiet the town surrounding it sat. The only sounds filling the air were the slow dragging of our feet along the dusty ground of cracking sidewalks and the constant buzz of cicadas echoing from an overgrown path leading directly to the woods, where a road had previously sat.
Doors fitted with rotating and locking food trays lined multiple hallways. These same doors had previously been containment for the most insane of patients, while still providing a grated hole near their top so that doctors could observe all actions and behaviors. This is the place nightmares are made of.
While most of this empty building lays in ruination through peeling paint, rusted doors and barred windows, a separate side, practically an alternate version of time itself remains sat at its top floors. In this alternate version of time, walls have begun to fall in, while the ceiling overhead resembles a naturally created sunroof, minus the glass, spanning entire lengths of numerous hallways and rooms, inviting the sun above to shine brightly inside. Many windows have abandoned their rusted bars, tossing most of them to a floor now covered in crusted ceiling and overgrowth, while trees push through sinks, vines find their way towards the holy ceiling and gardens reside vibrantly coating fractured porcelain bathtubs. As I observe life all around me reaching in through windows with a bright emerald glow, I realize something…this silence alone could drive one insane. Has it always been this quiet? Has the neighborhood always been so void of any other life, and were people subject to sit here, feeling completely alone? Since these dark days, this type of treatment and practice has been mainly phased out, but one can only wonder what it must have been like inside a madhouse such as this.
Now an odd jungle of destruction, the building will slowly deteriorate, years from now becoming nothing more than ruins. Sometimes I wonder though, am I truly part of this perceived reality, or am I stuck inside a room, picturing life in some altered frames of my unconscious mind? Any one of us could be so insane that we will never know it…perception is a strange thought.
"Watch out. The gap in the door... it's a separate reality. The only me is me. Are you sure the only you is you?" - Silent Hills
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I used to have fun with these as a kid in Venezuela.
When you touch the leaves, they fold and become almost invisible. It's good protection against grazing herbivores, especially ones with bad eyesight. But Frank was the one with the good eyes - he spotted this in the grass in a park this morning, thinking it was the dreaded puncture vine from Idaho that has terrible thorns.
I said, "Let's see if it's a sensitive plant . . ." and it was!
I think there are valves in the stems that let all the water run out of the leaves and make them fold up. (OK, the process is less mechanical and more chemical, as you will see if you read Wikipedia's explanation, below.)
For those who want the college-level description, Wikipedia offers the following:
Mimosa pudica (from Latin: pudica "shy, bashful or shrinking"; also called sensitive plant, sleepy plant and the touch-me-not), is a creeping annual or perennial herb often grown for its curiosity value: the compound leaves fold inward and droop when touched or shaken, to protect them from predators, re-opening minutes later. The species is native to South America and Central America, but is now a pantropical weed. It grows mostly in shady areas, under trees or shrubs.
Mimosa pudica is well known for its rapid plant movement. Like a number of other plant species, it undergoes changes in leaf orientation termed "sleep" or nyctinastic movement. The foliage closes during darkness and reopens in light. This was first studied by the French scientist Jean-Jacques d'Ortous de Mairan.
The leaves also close under various other stimuli, such as touching, warming, blowing, or shaking. These types of movements have been termed seismonastic movements. The movement occurs when specific regions of cells lose turgor pressure, which is the force that is applied onto the cell wall by water within the cell vacuoles and other cell contents.
When the plant is disturbed, specific regions on the stems are stimulated to release chemicals including potassium ions which force water out of the cell vacuoles and the water diffuses out of the cells, producing a loss of cell pressure and cell collapse; this differential turgidity between different regions of cells results in the closing of the leaflets and the collapse of the leaf petiole. This characteristic is quite common within the Mimosoideae subfamily of the legume family, Fabaceae. The stimulus can also be transmitted to neighboring leaves.
It is not known exactly why Mimosa pudica evolved this trait, but many scientists think that the plant uses its ability to shrink as a defense from herbivores. Animals may be afraid of a fast moving plant and would rather eat a less active one. Another possible explanation is that the sudden movement dislodges harmful insects.
Cartagena de Indias
The Place Nightmares Are Made Of
Sometimes life seems similar to a paint bucket minus the lid, being so sensitive to any movement around it, and though I may not have completely learned how to take full control of my own, sometimes having a couple of bumps and spills, I know that I am still doing something right, I mean, I must be. See, every time I look at where I left off, all I can say is "right on," because I write off the bad right off the bat. I keep the good memories for bad moments, and sometimes even these bad moments can create good memories of their own. See, life is a hectic and jumbled mess of shit and shining silver. Becoming sad in moments is great though, it shows you're still very much alive and capable of human emotion and compassion, not only that, but more often than not, there is something to be learned from it. Kind of like when you leave your car under the wrong tree in summer, while birds nest above for hours.
The sad sight of these post-apocalyptic scenes is, at times not far off from such similar a thought. I find beauty in these sad and desolate locations, while a lot of people may find them rather unsightly, I look past the cracking faces to see beauty within them. We must find a certain charm within this great sadness to truly be able to find full allure and happiness through the entire world surrounding us. The forgotten are a unique collection, each one being different than the last, thus how we are as people. Everything might look devastatingly broken before your eyes, but picture the good times, wonderful memories and history. Remember that not everything around you is broken like this, and if you learn to find beauty in this destruction, it will be so much easier to find beauty and happiness outside of it.
People previously contained within these particular walls had not been given the same gift that you and I have; the gift of free will to roam our Earth. As we enter a small town nearly 2 hours from Atlanta, we find ourselves amidst silent destruction, sat centered atop a hill within a desolate Southern town. The sweltering heat made it a sweaty chore climbing the hill headed up to the sanitarium, but at least this time we had some decently fresh water accompanying us in our backpacks. The fact that such a large structure had been left behind to collapse under the Georgia heat was alone an odd sight, but yet stranger, how incredibly quiet the town surrounding it sat. The only sounds filling the air were the slow dragging of our feet along the dusty ground of cracking sidewalks and the constant buzz of cicadas echoing from an overgrown path leading directly to the woods, where a road had previously sat.
Doors fitted with rotating and locking food trays lined multiple hallways. These same doors had previously been containment for the most insane of patients, while still providing a grated hole near their top so that doctors could observe all actions and behaviors. This is the place nightmares are made of.
While most of this empty building lays in ruination through peeling paint, rusted doors and barred windows, a separate side, practically an alternate version of time itself remains sat at its top floors. In this alternate version of time, walls have begun to fall in, while the ceiling overhead resembles a naturally created sunroof, minus the glass, spanning entire lengths of numerous hallways and rooms, inviting the sun above to shine brightly inside. Many windows have abandoned their rusted bars, tossing most of them to a floor now covered in crusted ceiling and overgrowth, while trees push through sinks, vines find their way towards the holy ceiling and gardens reside vibrantly coating fractured porcelain bathtubs. As I observe life all around me reaching in through windows with a bright emerald glow, I realize something…this silence alone could drive one insane. Has it always been this quiet? Has the neighborhood always been so void of any other life, and were people subject to sit here, feeling completely alone? Since these dark days, this type of treatment and practice has been mainly phased out, but one can only wonder what it must have been like inside a madhouse such as this.
Now an odd jungle of destruction, the building will slowly deteriorate, years from now becoming nothing more than ruins. Sometimes I wonder though, am I truly part of this perceived reality, or am I stuck inside a room, picturing life in some altered frames of my unconscious mind? Any one of us could be so insane that we will never know it…perception is a strange thought.
"Watch out. The gap in the door... it's a separate reality. The only me is me. Are you sure the only you is you?" - Silent Hills
www.facebook.com/UrbanExplorationUS
www.kickstarter.com/projects/1435240764/from-ohio-to-oreg...
Outstanding, mostly original, beautifully preserved, sensitively updated, 1951, slump block, post and beam, mid-mod rancher designed and constructed by Tucson genius builder TOM GIST. To see all available images of this gorgeous home, click on this link: www.flickr.com/photos/regulusalpha/sets/72157648613674792/ or click on the album link. ALSO, don't miss many other outstanding Tucson homes by clicking on this link: www.flickr.com/photos/regulusalpha/sets/72157626799239098/ or the corresponding album link; Josias Joesler in Tucson and other remarkable Tucson homes...
DETALLES:
C.N: 187387.3
EAN: 4005800154478
CategorÃa: Sun Protection
Formato: 150ml
DESCRIPCIÓN:
Loción protectora solar corporal, con textura extra ligera. Protege la piel del sol sin dejar residuos, a la vez que ofrece una rápida absorción ya que sus aceites se extienden rápidamente. Resistente al agua. Para pieles con fototipo I-II e incluso para pacientes con dermatitis atópica.
PROPIEDADES:
Una fórmula que incorpora filtros solares de última generación y un factor de protección biológico con potentes PROPIEDADES reductoras del estrés oxidativo celular y que protege contra la formación de radiales libres causados por la radiación solar.
COMPOSICIÓN:
Contiene Licocalcón A, un agente activo que penetra hasta las capas más profundas de la piel donde aumenta la capacidad inmune de los queratinocitos. Este ingrediente cuida y protege la piel desde el interior. También contiene Tinosorb®S y un sistema de filtros solares de alta eficacia clÃnicamente demostrada. Con perfumes hipoalergénicos.
MODO DE EMPLEO:
Aplicar generosamente antes de la exposición solar. Para mantener la protección inicial, re-aplicar regularmente con especial atención después del baño y sobre la piel seca. Evitar el contacto con los ojos y con la ropa hasta que el producto haya sido absorbido por la piel. Debido a la alta eficacia del ingrediente natural, las prendas blancas pueden quedar dañadas con manchas amarillas. Además, evitar la exposición solar durante tiempo prolongado, especialmente durante el mediodÃa, asà como exponer directamente al sol tanto bebés como niños pequeños.
💻 Ver más información en la página web:
How I use instax in 9x12 plate cameras.
I later either hand roll the chemicals across or use an instax camera to roll them in a darkroom.
Lookie what I watched Inu :)
I watched Sensitive Pornograph you'll never guess how old Sono is. Well let me tell you he is.....*coughcoughthirtytwocough* I'm all like he's damn good looking XD
A super fast and hyper sensitive infrared laser beam detector. The circuit can easy detects a hi speed air gun bullet. The circuit can then trigg an flash device with only 0,1ms delay. It is so sensitive that it is able to trigger even on a thin a sewing thread that passes the sensor. I look forward to playing with it :-)
When this amazing plant is touched, its leaves fold up. Keep an eye out for its small pink flowers.
Mimosa pudica (sensitive plant) in the Annual Border. Photo by Morrigan McCarthy.
Sensitive: Someone who can sense or feel the presence of ghosts/spirits not noticed by others. A sensitive can usually feel the energies of others and pick up on their feelings and emotions. They may also have the ability to see them and hear them as well. A sensitive might also have the ability to see auras around others bodies.