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<blockquote style="position: relative; padding-left: 55px;"><section><a href="https://mstdn.games/users/handmade_ghost/statuses/111930244881294938">handmade ghost (handmade_ghost@mstdn.games)'s status on Thursday, 15-Feb-2024 01:31:27 JST</a><a href="https://mstdn.games/@handmade_ghost" title="handmade_ghost@mstdn.games"><img src="https://gnusocial.jp/avatar/101782-48-20230226083908.webp" width="48" height="48" alt="handmade ghost" style="position: absolute; left: 0; top: 0;">handmade ghost</a></section><article><p>Roses are red.<br>So are red-breasted sapsuckers. </p><p>May we all have the opportunity today to tap whatever sweet sapwells call out to us. (You know, the metaphorical sapwells--the sapwells of the heart.)</p></article><footer><a rel="bookmark" href="https://gnusocial.jp/conversation/2715792#notice-5387894">In conversation</a><time datetime="2024-02-15T01:31:27+09:00" title="Thursday, 15-Feb-2024 01:31:27 JST">about a year ago</time> <span>from <span><a href="https://mstdn.games/@handmade_ghost/111930244881294938" rel="external" title="Sent from mstdn.games via ActivityPub">mstdn.games</a></span></span><a href="https://mstdn.games/@handmade_ghost/111930244881294938">permalink</a><h4>Attachments</h4><ol><li><label><a rel="external" href="https://gnusocial.jp/attachment/2258514">Extreme close-up of the face of a red-breasted sapsucker--a kind of woodpecker with vividly red feathers that completely cover eir head, face, and, yes, breast. We see eir face in profile, the long, grey-black bill like a sharpened number two pencil pointing towards the upper left-hand corner, the shiny, round black seed of the eye framed by a charcoal lid and staring out over us. The woodpecker's face takes up almost the entirety of the photo, but above em you can see the scruffy bark of the tree limb they're clinging to arcing above them, and to eir right you can see a column of the cold, pale blue winter sky, lightly ghosted with cloud. The black feathers of eir shoulder peek up from the bottom of the frame as e gazes, little wheels turning in eir mind, calculating when to get back to rap-rap-rapping to get at the good stuff hidden away in that generous bark.</a></label><br><a href="https://cdn.masto.host/mstdngames/media_attachments/files/111/930/243/268/607/758/original/ab42d11735f2a5d9.jpg" rel="external">https://cdn.masto.host/mstdngames/media_attachments/files/111/930/243/268/607/758/original/ab42d11735f2a5d9.jpg</a></li></ol></footer></blockquote>

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handmade ghost (handmade_ghost@mstdn.games)'s status on Thursday, 15-Feb-2024 01:31:27 JST handmade ghost
Roses are red.
So are red-breasted sapsuckers.
May we all have the opportunity today to tap whatever sweet sapwells call out to us. (You know, the metaphorical sapwells--the sapwells of the heart.)
In conversationabout a year ago from mstdn.gamespermalink
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1. Extreme close-up of the face of a red-breasted sapsucker--a kind of woodpecker with vividly red feathers that completely cover eir head, face, and, yes, breast. We see eir face in profile, the long, grey-black bill like a sharpened number two pencil pointing towards the upper left-hand corner, the shiny, round black seed of the eye framed by a charcoal lid and staring out over us. The woodpecker's face takes up almost the entirety of the photo, but above em you can see the scruffy bark of the tree limb they're clinging to arcing above them, and to eir right you can see a column of the cold, pale blue winter sky, lightly ghosted with cloud. The black feathers of eir shoulder peek up from the bottom of the frame as e gazes, little wheels turning in eir mind, calculating when to get back to rap-rap-rapping to get at the good stuff hidden away in that generous bark.
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