Hummingbirds have a unique way of flying among birds. By flapping in a figure-8 motion, they generate lift on both the upstroke and the downstroke, which enables them to fly forward, backward, and even hover for extended periods. Such mid-air acrobatics are necessary for a species that feeds on flower nectar. What is especially impressive about the birds, though, is how they hold up even in adverse conditions like wind or rain. By placing birds in a wind tunnel and filming with high-speed video, researchers can see how hummingbirds maintain their feeding position even in 20 mph (32 kph) winds. By fanning out their tail feathers like a rudder, they can control their body orientation despite turbulent gusts. Not even rain stops them. The birds will periodically shake themselves dry, much like a dog if a dog could manage to fly while shaking itself. (Video credit: Deep Look; submitted by entropy-perturbation)


“Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Were you waiting up for me?” you asked as Dean sat up, despite your trying to sneak by quietly.

“What? No. I was up–I was watching Shark Week,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. He looked to his watch and then back at you. “Guessing you had a good time, then.”

“It was ok,” you shrugged. “I’m definitely not back late because I lost track of time. It actually kind of turned into a disaster.”

Dean seemed to perk up at this, sitting a bit straighter.

“Oh, yeah? Prince Charming turn out to be a frog?” he asked.

“It’s a long story,” you laughed.

You watched, still smiling as he scooted over some on the couch, making room for you.

“You want to hear about my date?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“I want to hear about the disaster you let take you out,” he teased, smiling wider as you took a seat next to him, feeling happier than you had all evening, and began to talk.

x x x

Sometimes I think about how my mum told me that family will be there for you and that my friends won’t. And then I think about how she has told me that if it weren’t for the fact that I was her daughter, she wouldn’t even give a sh*t about me. And how my family are almost always responsible for all my relapses. How they make me feel like I’m invisible and useless and that I owe them everything in the world.

And then I think about my best friend and how we stick by each other even though we’re not related by blood.

And I know that my mother is wrong.

“Blood is thicker than water.” Yeah, well so is yogurt.

Our friendship isn’t water anyway. It’s steel.