The moment when the table turns.
Doesn’t that look beautiful?
Like something you’d find on one of those soft/pale/rosy/grunge blogs?
Well nothing too rosy on my blog.
The Bolton Strid in England is one of the most innocent looking streams.
Though it looks like you could just hop across the rocks, but if you miss you will die for sure. It packs very rapid currents just a couple of feet below its surface. No one really knows how deep it really is. Nobody who has ever fallen into the Strid has survived. It has a 100% fatality rate.
It’s always the things I google expecting to be false that wind up being horribly true.
"It’s relatively common for people to assume they can jump the creek, walk across its stones or even wade through it (again, just looking at it, the Strid really seems to be only knee-deep in places, and certainly not the instant, precipitous drop into a watery grave that it is). Most of the time, they never even find the body. Which means there are just dozens of corpses down there, pinned to the walls of the underground chasms, waiting for you to join them…"
We don’t know what the Denisovan looked like. We don’t know how it lived, what tools it used, how tall it was, what it ate, or if it buried its dead.
But from only two teeth and a piece of finger bone smaller than a penny, we’ve been able to extract the rich history of a species that split…
if you’re ever really sad you should probably go look at cake wrecks. your life won’t improve or anything but you’ll probably be too busy trying to decide why the word “ultrasound” is suddenly so funny to you to remember why you were sad, at least for a little while