the spring has finally arrived and all the little field flowers are blooming: snowdrops, primroses and violets. you’re careful not to pluck any, since you don’t have the specially issued ministry permit.
the elections are over and the votes are being counted. there are more voters than there are living citizens. the elections always unsettle the dead.
they were building a new apartment block down the street but the construction site looks abandoned. the lady in the store informs you that the workers have unearthed a WWII mine. you’re just glad it’s not another mass grave.
you work as a waitress on a small island that is popular with foreign tourists. you hate foreigners. you smile sweetly and insult them while plying them with plum moonshine your cousin makes in his basement. the moonshine gives them nosebleeds and amnesia. they are charmed and vow to come again next year.
every coastal town now has a music festival but you’re not really sure it’s music they’re playing. all you hear is screeching metallic noises interspersed with loud thumps and deep arrhythmic humming. the tourist keep coming though, blank-eyed, in droves. every year it takes them longer to return home.
you understand the people from all three neighboring countries perfectly but the dialect of the nearby village is undecipherable. you communicate using grimaces and hand gestures.
most foreigners cannot locate your country on a map and some even doubt its existence but they still manage to come and visit.
you watch a youtube clip about a local man who has two storks nesting on his roof. all the comments revolve around alliances to fascist and communist factions from the second world war. you already know what the comments will say but feel obliged to read them anyway. you can’t help it, it’s a reflex reaction. as you read, feelings of paranoia and rage build into a crescendo inside your skull. you share the link with your friends.
#arrives at the meme 15 minutes late with a starbucks #shutout my bud lilybarthes for lending a helping internet presence #ask me about croatian gothic
The Bohemian Waxwing (Bombycilla garrulus) is a frugivore, so it eats fruits. It can be hard to find fruit growing in the winter, so Bohemian Waxwings eat mistletoe fruits! Mistletoe is poisonous to many animals, but when options are low, animals find a way.
To tell the Bohemian Waxwing apart from its other waxwing relatives, just look for the white stripes near the edges of the wings. A little extra flash is hiding on this species!