View allAll Photos Tagged AMONG
Inside the church of San Nicola di Silanis, north Sardinia.
Tra le rovine della chiesa di San Nicola di Silanis in Sardegna.
It has certainly been a joy to get back to using my Nikon D850 again. The Leica D-Lux 7 is a handy camera to have in the pocket, but it is very limited in scope compared to the full frame DSLR. It is not insignificant that the D850 is referred to as a "baby medium format camera". It gives that performance and the images (235MB in TIFF files) are always best viewed large.
After my visit to Melbourne (which you have been looking at for the past month or more), two things forced a layoff from actually taking photographs: The first is that I felt extremely burnt out by the whole social media rigamarole. Frankly I am sick of trying to produce pictures that will garner more views and faves (I gave up chasing Explores a long time ago as Flickr and I continue our cool relationship, and I can't be bothered faving 1000 photos a day to attract the algorithm's attention).
I needed to get back to taking the sort of photographs that reflect who I am and the artistic influences that I respect. And secondly, a change of employment meant that my time has been limited, but I have come to see this as a blessing. Less really is more. So after a deliberate layoff from using a camera for nearly two months, I ventured out for the first time last Saturday to capture some late afternoon street shots and sunsets. I'll let you be the judge, but I was very pleased with the results.
I've used the last two months to think more deeply about my compositions. I've been reading all the time and of course, looking at photographs. I've always been a person that believes sound theory leads to better practical results - and this seems to be very true in photography.
"Among the Reeds" is a direct homage to one of the pioneers of artistic landscape photography, the East Anglian P.H. Emerson (1856-1936). In the previous posting I have described his work in relation to Nancy Newhall's fine biography. I commend it to you.
The False Garden Mantis I recently found in my potted Chrysanthemum is still there and came out yesterday as I was watering my plant. She then posed gracefully for me :)
I have another yellow Chrysanthemum in my flower bed and, today, found another, younger Mantis among the flowers but she quickly hid in the foliage when she saw me :( /
La Mante Religieuse que j'ai decouverte recemment dans mon Chrysantheme en pot s'y trouve toujours. Elle est sortie hier, alors que j'arrosais ma plante et a pris la pose fort gracieusement :)
J'ai un autre Chrysantheme jaune dans mon parterre de fleurs et aujourd'hui j'y ai trouve une autre Mante Religieuse, plus jeune et plus peureuse, qui s'est empressee de se cacher dans le feuillage lorsqu'elle m'a vue !
Among many, one of the benefits of having a dog is that you have to get out of bed and out to get him to do his business in the morning. Often, a tour is needed to get the system to work. However, because of this I have had wonderful moments and great memories from our walks in the forest and up to the hills surrounds our highland cottage. Here at Fjellenden, Gautestad in the south of Norway, where I have a view of the whole south-norway. Just below me is Høgås cabin village.
I caught this male phaesant in our garden among a carpet of fallen autumn leaves just before he disappeared into the bushes.
IMPORTANT: for non-pro users who read the info on a computer, just enlarge your screen to 120% (or more), then the full text will appear below the photo with a white background - which makes reading so much easier.
The color version of the photo above is here: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/ticino-best-photos-of-southern-...
THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO:
So far there's only been one photo in my gallery that hasn't been taken in my garden ('The Flame Rider', captured in the Maggia Valley: www.flickr.com/photos/191055893@N07/53563448847/in/datepo... ) - which makes the image above the second time I've "strayed from the path" (although not very far, since the photo was taken only approximately 500 meters from my house).
Overall, I'll stick to my "only-garden rule", but every once in a while I'll show you a little bit of the landscape around my village, because I think it will give you a better sense of just how fascinating this region is, and also of its history.
The title I chose for the photo may seem cheesy, and it's certainly not very original, but I couldn't think of another one, because it's an honest reflection of what I felt when I took it: a profound sense of peace - although if you make it to the end of this text you'll realize my relationship with that word is a bit more complicated.
I got up early that day; it was a beautiful spring morning, and there was still a bit of mist in the valley below my village which I hoped would make for a few nice mood shots, so I quickly grabbed my camera and went down there before the rising sun could dissolve the magical layer on the scenery.
Most human activity hadn't started yet, and I was engulfed in the sounds of the forest as I was walking the narrow trail along the horse pasture; it seemed every little creature around me wanted to make its presence known to potential mates (or rivals) in a myriad of sounds and voices and noises (in case you're interested, here's a taste of what I usually wake up to in spring, but you best use headphones: www.youtube.com/watch?v=AfoCTqdAVCE )
Strolling through such an idyllic landscape next to grazing horses and surrounded by birdsong and beautiful trees, I guess it's kind of obvious one would feel the way I described above and choose the title I did, but as I looked at the old stone buildings - the cattle shelter you can see in the foreground and the stable further up ahead on the right - I also realized how fortunate I was.
It's hard to imagine now, because Switzerland is one of the wealthiest countries in the world today, but the men and women who had carried these stones and constructed the walls of these buildings were among the poorest in Europe. The hardships the people in some of the remote and little developed valleys in Ticino endured only a few generations ago are unimaginable to most folks living in my country today.
It wasn't uncommon that people had to sell their own kids as child slaves - the girls had to work in factories or in rice fields, the boys as "living chimney brushes" in northern Italy - just because there wasn't enough food to support the whole family through the harsh Ticino winters.
If you wonder why contemporary Swiss historians speak of "slaves" as opposed to child laborers, it's because that's what many of them actually were: auctioned off for a negotiable prize at the local market, once sold, these kids were not payed and in many cases not even fed by their masters (they had to beg for food in the streets or steal it).
Translated from German Wikipedia: ...The Piazza grande in Locarno, where the Locarno Film Festival is held today, was one of the places where orphans, foundlings and children from poor families were auctioned off. The boys were sold as chimney sweeps, the girls ended up in the textile industry, in tobacco processing in Brissago or in the rice fields of Novara, which was also extremely hard work: the girls had to stand bent over in the water for twelve to fourteen hours in all weathers. The last verse of the Italian folk song 'Amore mio non piangere' reads: “Mamma, papà, non piangere, se sono consumata, è stata la risaia che mi ha rovinata” (Mom, dad, don't cry when I'm used up, it was the rice field that destroyed me.)... de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kaminfegerkinder
The conditions for the chimney sweeps - usually boys between the age of 8 and 12 (or younger, because they had to be small enough to be able to crawl into the chimneys) - were so catastrophic that many of them didn't survive; they died of starvation, cold or soot in their lungs - as well as of work-related accidents like breaking their necks when they fell, or suffocatig if they got stuck in inside a chimney. This practice of "child slavery" went on as late as the 1950s (there's a very short article in English on the topic here: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spazzacamini and a more in depth account for German speakers in this brief clip: www.youtube.com/watch?v=gda8vZp_zsc ).
Now I don't know if the people who built the old stone houses along my path had to sell any of their kids, but looking at the remnants of their (not so distant) era I felt an immense sense of gratitude that I was born at a time of prosperity - and peace - in my region, my country and my home. Because none of it was my doing: it was simple luck that decided when and where I came into this world.
It also made me think of my own family. Both of my grandparents on my father's side grew up in Ticino (they were both born in 1900), but while they eventually left Switzerland's poorest region to live in its richest, the Kanton of Zurich, my grandfather's parents relocated to northern Italy in the 1920s and unfortunately were still there when WWII broke out.
They lost everything during the war, and it was their youngest daughter - whom I only knew as "Zia" which means "aunt" in Italian - who earned a little money to support herself and my great-grandparents by giving piano lessons to high-ranking Nazi officers and their kids (this was towards the end of the war when German forces had occupied Italy).
I never knew that about her; Zia only very rarely spoke of the war, but one time when I visited her when she was already over a 100 years old (she died at close to 104), I asked her how they had managed to survive, and she told me that she went to the local prefecture nearly every day to teach piano. "And on the way there would be the dangling ones" she said, with a shudder.
I didn't get what she meant, so she explained. Visiting the city center where the high ranking military resided meant she had to walk underneath the executed men and women who were hanging from the lantern posts along the road (these executions - often of civilians - were the Germans' retaliations for attacks by the Italian partisans).
I never forgot her words - nor could I shake the look on her face as she re-lived this memory. And I still can't grasp it; my house in Ticino is only 60 meters from the Italian border, and the idea that there was a brutal war going on three houses down the road from where I live now in Zia's lifetime strikes me as completely surreal.
So, back to my title for the photo above. "Peace". It's such a simple, short word, isn't it? And we use it - or its cousin "peaceful" - quite often when we mean nice and quiet or stress-free. But if I'm honest I don't think I know what it means. My grandaunt Zia did, but I can't know. And I honestly hope I never will.
I'm sorry I led you down such a dark road; I usually intend to make people smile with the anecdotes that go with my photos, but this one demanded a different approach (I guess with this latest image I've strayed from the path in more than one sense, and I hope you'll forgive me).
Ticino today is the region with the second highest average life expectancy in Europe (85.2 years), and "The Human Development Index" of 0.961 in 2021 was one of the highest found anywhere in the world, and northern Italy isn't far behind. But my neighbors, many of whom are now in their 90s, remember well it wasn't always so.
That a region so poor it must have felt like purgatory to many of its inhabitants could turn into something as close to paradise on Earth as I can imagine in a person's lifetime should make us all very hopeful. But, and this is the sad part, it also works the other way 'round. And I believe we'd do well to remember that, too.
To all of you - with my usual tardiness but from the bottom of my heart - a happy, healthy, hopeful 2025 and beyond.
First Hummingbird image shared this year. Winter in California has been mild so far. Still above freezing at night in this area.
Jumping spiders use their legs to pounce on their prey, which is typically other insects. Amazingly, jumping spiders don't have special leg muscles, like grasshoppers, to help them leap. They propel themselves by suddenly changing the blood flow in their body. Terminix
Jumping spiders or the Salticidae are a family of spiders. As of 2019, it contained over 600 described genera and over 6000 described species, making it the largest family of spiders at 13% of all species. Jumping spiders have some of the best vision among arthropods and use it in courtship, hunting, and navigation. Wikipedia
Among the stone blocks of the "Pont de Sant Roc".
Entre los bloques de piedra del "Pont de Sant Roc".
Comarca del Matarranya
Valderrobres / Vall-de-Roures (Teruel/ Spain).
Among birds, raptors are known for their sight, penguins for their huddling techniques, and some kingfishers are skillful divers. Some of these colorful and long-beaked birds dive headfirst into water to catch fish at break-neck speeds, all without damaging their brains. How they accomplish this feat is all in their genes.
The special type of diving kingfishers perform is called plunge-diving. Other birds including gannets and pelicans also plunge-dive, but it is not a common foraging method in the animal kingdom. While kingfishers don’t generally hurt themselves on these dives that can reach up to 25 miles per hour, they do not come without risk.
This image is © (All Rights Reserved)
Wilbur shooting the redwood trees in Founders Grove in Humboldt Redwoods State Park.
Happy Tree-mendous Tuesday!
"When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,
“and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine.” – Mary Oliver