HABITAT AIR BEDS – INFLATABLE MATRESSES
Habitat Air Beds
- An air mattress is an inflatable mattress/sleeping pad. Due to its buoyancy, it is also often used as a water toy / flotation device, and in UK is termed as a lilo ("Li-lo" being a specific trademark).
- are a broad category of beds in which air is used to support the sleeper. Small motors pump air into mattress bladders to create different levels of firmness. The advantage of air beds is that you can adjust the firmness to suit you, and your partner can do the same.
- The natural home or environment of an animal, plant, or other organism
- A particular type of environment regarded as a home for organisms
- A habitat (which is Latin for "it inhabits") is an ecological or environmental area that is inhabited by a particular species of animal, plant or other type of organism.Dickinson, C.I. 1963. British Seaweeds. The Kew SeriesAbercrombie, M., Hickman, C.J. and Johnson, M.L. 1966.
- the type of environment in which an organism or group normally lives or occurs; "a marine habitat"; "he felt safe on his home grounds"
- A person's usual or preferred surroundings
- The United Nations Human Settlements Programme (UN–HABITAT) is the United Nations agency for human settlements. It was established in 1978 and has its headquarters at the UN office in Nairobi, Kenya.
habitat air beds – Habitat
Wild Dog Pench Park
The dhole is, generally, most active in the early morning and evening, and sometimes at night. The dhole can live to 16 years in captivity, though 10 is common in the wild. The dhole exploits a large variety of habitats, reflecting its adaptability. It normally inhabits dry and moist deciduous forests and thick jungles, as well as tropical rain forests, which all provide better cover for hunting. It inhabits areas of primary, secondary, degraded, evergreen, and semi-evergreen forms of vegetation, and dry thorn forests, as well as scrub-forest mosaics. Dholes like open spaces and during the day they can often be found on jungle roads and paths, river beds, and in jungle clearings.
Factors which influence habitat include water, the presence of other large predators (competition), sufficient prey (plentiful medium to large ungulate prey species), local human population, and suitable breeding sites.
The dhole is about the size of a collie, and is similar to the dingo and golden jackal. Its coat is usually a uniformly rusty red hue, but varies regionally from sandy, creamy yellow through red and brown to dark gray. Sometimes it is grizzled. Generally, the dhole has a black-tipped – though sometimes white or brown or gray – moderately bushy tail, a darker area on its back, and white or pale patches on its chest, paws and belly. Its large ears (about half the length of the face) are rounded with white on the inside, its legs are short, and its eyes are slightly hooded and have amber irises. The dhole has sixteen teats, reflecting its ability to care for many young. This is more teats than most other dogs. It has four toes on each paw, with fur between the toes, which are red, brown, and/or white. The fore-toe pads are hairless, and are joined at the base near the main pad, unlike most domestic dogs. The jaw is thick, blunt, relatively short, slightly convex in profile, and squarish.
The dhole is an omnivore. Its prey are usually deer (like spotted deer, chital, and sambar, which is over twenty times a dog’s weight), but also wild boar, red muntjac deer, wild goats, wild sheep, nilgai, mountain sheep, water buffalo, hares (like the Black-naped Hare), caribou, reindeer, gaur and sometimes monkeys. . Dholes prefer prey between 31kg and 175kg in weight. Also, the dhole may consume wild berries, insects, rodents, East Asian porcupine, and lizards. In India, the dhole’s favorite prey animal is the medium-sized axis deer. Occasionally they consume grasses and other plants, though this may serve an anti-helminthic function rather than a nutritional one. They are said to feed on the fallen fruit of black wood and bael trees.
Although the dhole is not a fast runner, it has great stamina, and will pursue prey for hours, though not always to exhaustion. Most chases are less than a few hundred metres in length. As it is an excellent swimmer, it will often drive its prey into water, surrounding the animal and swimming out in teams to perform the capture. The dhole is capable of killing prey ten times its own size, and will defend kills very violently. Packs have been observed to attack tigers in disputes over food. The dhole is mainly a crepuscular forager. During hunts, some dholes may lie in ambush, while others drive prey in their direction.
Sometimes several families unite in order to hunt larger animals. The dhole seldom kills by tearing out the throat. Larger mammals are attacked from behind and swiftly disemboweled, and smaller ones are caught by any part of the body and killed by a quick blow to the head. Often, a dhole pack will start on prey before it is even dead, like the African Hunting Dog does. The larger prey (which require a coordinated attack, frequently resulting in a “lead hunt dog” emerging by taking a prominent role in disabling the prey). Two or three dholes can bring down a 50 kg (110 lb) deer in less than two minutes, and individuals can hold 3kg in their stomachs, allowing meat to be transported.
After meals (during which a couple of dholes act as look-outs, wary for leopards and tigers who could kill them or steal their kill, and humans also), they race to a water site, and sometimes, if the water is near their kill, dholes will leave their food for a small drink of water.
Pups are born throughout the end of fall, winter, and the first spring months (November – March ) – dens are earthern burrowns, or are constructed amongst rocks and boulder structures, in rocky caverns, or close to streambeds. After a gestation period of around 60-62 days, females usually give birth to about eight pups (though the range is 5-10, the record is 12, and sizes vary drastically within the same pack through different years), which weigh 200-350g. At three
the friction of fiction: chpt XXII
Never think things through. That would have probably been a very keenly foresighted consideration at the particular moment, had Art actually taken the time to recognize it’s rather profound impact to this and near every impasse he’d found himself in lately. But despite the fact that he now found himself charging down a rather narrow alleyway leading him aimlessly towards who knows where, on foot, and in a dead run, with what appeared to be quite possibly the most ill-favored looking man he’d ever bored witness to, erroneously nipping right at this heels, thinking things through had not for a moment crossed his mind at all. For some reason taking the time to properly consider just what might lie around the next corner of the decaying alley seemed to bare far less importance to Art, then what was currently behind him. In truth, given the current situation he might have even admitted to himself that he would not have cared less if it had been Mr. Nakayama himself waiting around the next bend, just so long as it was not the dirty dark stranger and his ridicules corncob pipe. Actually, had he thought it properly through, he would have then further admitted to himself that Mr. Nakayama was still millions of miles away on Io, oblivious to most of Art’s more resent exploitations. And that it really would have been a silly idea to begin with, because Mr. Nakayama would have never personally graced a cesspool such as Crate Steam himself. Art might have considered all of that, had he actually thought about it at the time.
Despite all of the thoughts that could have and should have been racing through Art’s mind, the only one he was genuinely concerned about holding on to was a simple three letter, single syllable verb, that had become perpetually looped at the for front of his mind. “Run”.
And run he did, though be it a bit clumsily. Art had never been good at running. He didn’t even like running. Come to think of it, he hated running. It had never been one of those activities he’d held in high regard, or any regard at all really, as far as calisthenics were concerned. Especially when it involved other words like “away” and “from”. In hindsight, perhaps those times when “away” and “from” had been applicable, those had more then likely been the only times in his entire life that he had actually taken to the argues task of running, which curiously enough had been approximately thirty five times in the whole of his life. For the time being considerations would have to wait. Art had one concern, and one concern only. Getting away from the dirty dark stranger that had been tailing him for the last six blocks. If salvation did not present itself at the end of the particular dark, dank and narrow alley he was currently sprinting through, he was quite certain he was going to die.
Half way down the alleyway and even in the failing light, Art could already see that the path did not open up onto an adjacent street, but rather split into a T.
“Fuck,” Art thought to himself. “Fifteen fucking square acres worth of black top alleys and side scraping arteries in this backwater shit hole of a town, and I had to run down one that leads strait into a mound of Stack Shacks.” And indeed, it appeared as though that was exactly where this particular alleyway was leading him.
Remnants of Crate Stream in it’s bustling youthful years of rapid growth and poorly planned out colonization, Stack Shacks had been near the first structures on site. It was only later that more permanently intended structures had come along, say for example the sort of structures Art was currently trying to negotiate between. To his left, a brick building roughly fourteen stories in height, and as near as he could figure, ready to collapse at any given moment. To his right, a much younger concrete structure with more or less the same dimensions, but clearly still in the care of someone with enough coin to keep up on at least the necessary preventative maintenance required for the particular climent. Directly ahead and closing fast, was a much older steel structured edifice, consisting of fourteen or more perfectly square domiciles, stacked ten high. Mobile Stack Shacks. Rot of their bright red paint decades ago, and hardly worth a second glance, these not so curiously stackable living space cubes were when combined, known as a mobile Stack Shack to most, but at the moment, to Art, they appeared to look more like a seriously debilitating or possibly even lethal obstacle.
Basically a stackable living habitat, this particular Stack Shack, given it’s location, had more then likely been painstakingly hauled in by the mining conglomerates that had first founded Crate Steam, for no other purpose then to impress the grant shoveling pockets of the Alliance out of more non creditable coin, by showing them that they cared enough to spare the expense of providing amenable housing for the first cluster of transient would be mining settler
habitat air beds
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