View allAll Photos Tagged AGES
My beautiful old girl Ceilidh, still a bit crazy after all these years, although much slower! After over 13 years, we can finally let her off the lead as she is not inclined to run off. With her various health issues, last autumn we didn't think she'd make it to Christmas...then New Years...then her birthday at the end of January - but today she is still happy, always wanting her food and (short) walkies.
My first attempt using the Lensbaby Velvet 56 as a portrait lens at f4 with an uncooperative subject - lots of room for improvement (but otherwise it would be boring).
When I was younger and learning how to garden, flowers in fall meant only one thing to me - compost.
Now, in my fifties, I have an endless fascination for these golden, aging beauties. Coincidence? I think not :)
Nature will forever by my teacher.
"Aging is not an option, not for anyone. It is how gracefully we handle the process and how lucky we are, as the process handles us."
~ Cindy Mcdonald
ODC-Old
Our little Shizandra will be 13 in a couple of months. She has slowed down somewhat and her muzzle has certainly turned white. But, she still runs and plays and is such a beautiful girl. I think she is aging gracefully!
Favourite piece of oak, a bench at my parents house.
Not a macro shot, but as there are a lot of texture shots about today thought I'd post another!
Conversion of original colour image to age the picture - sepia like but achieved with gradient mapping rather than simple sepia toning. This allows addition of elements from other pictures while preserving the overall colour balance.
unterwegs an der Oelsener Höhe im Osterzgebirge
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Rock Of Ages.
Behind every image or scene there is a story, sometimes we can perhaps interpret that story and other times we can only speculate.
This monument depicts a female reaching up to grasp the Cross which has the inscription Rock Of Ages.
We can only wonder the story behind this scene.
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee;
Let the water and the blood,
From Thy wounded side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure;
Cleanse me from its guilt and power.
Augustus M. Toplady, 1776.
Forbes, New South Wales, Australia.
Coming of Age
It’s a roll of the dice heading out with a partly cloudy weather forecast, because I always prefer clouds to a cloudless sky, but then you never know if it’s going to be too “partly”. Today is mostly too partly, but from time to time a sweeping wave of light rolls over the ridges. You can watch its progress as skylights open and then close to pinch off the momentary brilliance. The flanks of mountains on the east side of the lake brighten in unison with my own, the shine catching surfaces all around me for a precious few before moving on. I wonder if the canopy has an instant photosynthesis, if the glow is reaction on a subatomic level rather than just the reflection of a trillion leaves. In the life cycle of autumn, what I’m looking at would be the coming of age stage, adolescent colors with a short time window before the rusty dormancy of winter. Colors suggest the seasons to us, and then we anthropomorphize the seasons to define where we are in life. I tell myself I’m not going to play that game...there are deeper aches than the aches of age. Those of plans unfulfilled, sunsets missed, certainly the ache of loves lost. Mind dumps, better left where they were cached...or is it that I can better confront them after all this time? For now I’ll stop my clock for a while and watch the light ebb and flow.
The Golden Age of Radio, 1920s through the 1950s. What excitement is must have been to gather the Family around the Fire Place and the Radio and listen to Old Time Radio Shows and the Greats that came out of Vaudeville that ended up being our 1950's TV Entertainers. Long Live Radio :)
Remembering Queen R.I.P. Freddie Mercury
DSC_9143
Granite boulder fields of the Alabama Hills west of Lone Pine, California in the eastern Sierra Nevada. I used a lichen-covered granite boulder at dawn to lead your eye to the radiant peaks in the background (Lone Pine Peak is the dimpled mountain on the left and Mt. Whitney is the spired peaks almost dead center.