View allAll Photos Tagged Arguments
Two Hippopotamus (Hippopotamus amphibius) engage in a dominance fight in a small pond in Mikumi National Park of Tanzania. When Hippopotamus fight, water goes everywhere!
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strobist info:
snooted (diy) Metz 48 high cam right @1/16, snooted McGoat SS-150 at left behind me.
Canon 7D + Tokina 12-24 f4
I think that the leaf of a tree, the meanest insect on which we trample, are in themselves arguments more conclusive than any which can be adduced that some vast intellect animates Infinity.
--Percy Byshhe Shelley, Letter, January 3, 1811
Song: www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tl-dmo9_VCg
Una batalla épica entre el bien y el mal ✨⚔️ Aquí estamos, inmersos en un duelo de fuerzas opuestas. Ella, una valiente Jedi, emana determinación y habilidad con su espada láser azul, mientras que él, un poderoso Sith, despliega su dominio oscuro con su sable rojo.
The green wall at the Gobernación de Antioquia isn't just decorative. It's symbolic. In a city that once had to look over its shoulder, there's now a vertical garden climbing up the bones of civic power. A living, breathing argument for hope.
📝 This image is available under Creative Commons 2.0 (Attribution required). Please link to the original photo and the license. License for use outside of the Creative Commons is available by request.
Got into a bit of a fake / joke argument with Cory Schmitz over on Twitter about the Small Magellenic Cloud being boring, and realized I didn't have much imagery from the SMC! This addition will make two. The SMC isn't necessarily boring, but it is, well, smaller, and has perhaps fewer things going on in it. But those things are still just as wonderful to look at! This is an active star-forming region with central a bright, blueish star cluster, and also an overlapping, older, redder cluster near the top. The cluster near the top looks kind of like one of those more diffuse globular clusters, but I looked around and couldn't find anyone calling it that. Anyway, it's surely one of the most beautiful vistas in our cosmic neighborhood.
Wispy, cloud-like structures are always associated with star formation, and here all the soft pinks and blues are gas giving off its own glow after getting energized by the very bright, newly formed stars. Dark clouds are places where dust is thick enough that light from any glowing gas and stars is being blocked. Sometimes the dust likes to blend into the background darkness of the sky, and we can't even tell it's there in visible wavelengths.
This particular dataset is very interesting to work with because there is a 2004 set and a 2015 set, giving an 11 year difference to compare the two. It's really fun to blink the two back and forth and find all the stars with high proper motions, a few variable stars, and even an apparent dust-enshrouded star either brightening, or becoming exposed out of its dusty envelope. Not sure what's going on there, but I did make an animation about it that I posted over at Twitter.
One thing I gotta do here is pay tribute to this earlier version of the image, processed years before I ever started doing this:
hubblesite.org/contents/news-releases/2005/news-2005-35.html
It's a pretty challenging set of filters to work with, and it's very easy to get some very out of balance colors out of it. So, kudos to those past and future who attempt this one.
Data from the following proposals were used to create this image:
Current star formation in young, compact clusters in the Small Magellanic Cloud
A 3D view of massive cluster formation in the SMC
50% Luminosity layer: ACS/WFC F685N
Red screen: ACS/WFC F685N
Red: ACS/WFC F814W
Green: Pseudo
Blue: ACS/WFC F555W
North is 2.5° clockwise from up.
Elle peut s'exprimer sous différentes formes; la plus répandue est la violence physique – les gifles, les coups de poing ou de pied, les mutilations – mais la police recense aussi de nombreux cas de violence verbale telle que les menaces, les humiliations ou les insultes.
Je vous donne un exemple concret de langage qui n'est justement pas un langage de paix, et comment on se sent de suite agressé, c'est la réponse d'un gars du commentaire que j'ai fait sur cette vidéo "Coronavirus, le monde d'après : quelles leçons faudra-t-il tirer de la pandémie ?" .
Je vous laisse seul juge :
jobaine33 vous récitez les arguments du capitalisme vert et du système médiatique... La chauve souris le pangolin mais vous en êtes encore a gober le spectacle médiatique et marchand... Reveillez vous vous avez de belles valeurs on le sent... Mais l écologie qu on vous vend cest uniquement pour casser toujours plus les salaires et réduire la population et mettre l'ia... D'ailleurs renseignez vous tout est vérifiable mais toutes les ong ecolo sont financees par ceux que vous pensez combattre a savoir des institutions bancaires et capitalistes... Renseignez vous tout est accessible et vérifiable...
Tu sens l'agressivité du truc , non ?
Pourtant, le mec est peut-être cool, mais
on aurait tendance à répondre de manière agressive,
surtout si t'as des 'corones' (la testostérone sans doute)
mais tu vois, maintenant, moi, je réponds calmement,.
J'dis pas que c'est facile, de ne pas porter de jugement,
même moi j'dis facilement que Trump est un débile par exemple, mais revenons à notre sujet,
Je lui réponds: je ressens que t'es dans le fight. Plutôt que de vouloir imposer ton jugement, de mettre de suite les gens dans des cases (capitaliste/écologique) , dis ce que tu ressens vraiment.
Le gros avantage de répondre comme ça, c'est que tu ne ferme pas le dialogue, ton interlocuteur ne se sent pas blessé,
et il va te livrer son ressenti.
Et c'est ce qui c'est passé, et du coups, je suis tombé d'accord avec ce qu'il m' a dit ensuite, parce qu'il a parlé vrai, sans juger ou vouloir imposer son point de vue.
" Les mots sont des fenêtres ou bien des murs" - Marshall B. Rosenberg -
Un livre qui a changé ma vie.
Quand tu juges et dis : t' a tord ...c'est pas comme ça qu'il faut faire, tu "mérites " des baffes, tu agresses l'autre.
ou à toi-même : "je dois" faire ça, "il faut que" j'arrête de, c'est ma faute j' aurais du faire ...tu t'auto-flagelles, tu te culpabilises, tu te fais du mal tout simplement.
Si tu dis plutôt : j'ai choisi de faire comme ça, j'ai décidé d'arrêter...ce que je ressens quand tu me dis ça...si tu dis ton émotion...
tu retrouves ta liberté
En disant ce que tu ressens, les gens a qui tu parles ne se sentiront pas agressés, ce que tu ressens, c'est ta vérité, personne ne le contestera.
on est tellement oppressé et agressé dans la société actuelle
à cause de tout ce conditionnement, ce qui est Bien , ce qui est mal, être meilleur, plus productif, plus rentable....etc
Ce conditionnement dans le langage, tu le subis depuis que tu es tout petit.
C'est comme ça que fonctionne nos sociétés, " l' élite", les classes dirigeantes te pilote ainsi.
Cette oppression est source de stress et peut provoquer de vrais dégâts sur ta santé mentale, de faire vivre un "Burn out"...
Lorsque tu te sens bien auprès de quelqu'un, que tu trouves qu'il ou elle rayonne de bonnes choses, que tu dis : il est vraiment humain lui ... Simplement , il ou elle parle un langage de paix, qui est un langage de bienveillance.
Les gens qui parlent un langage de paix, te font énormément de bien, tu les trouves solaire, bien dans leur peau, sereins.
Ce n'est pas spontané, ils ont appris à parler comme ça.
Voilà, sortir de ce conditionnement n'est pas facile, de même que n'importe quel autre conditionnement comme celui de la société de consommation qui te basinne : tu sera plus heureux si tu possèdes cette belle bagnole, il faut que t'ai la 5G Bordel !
T 'a pas de piscine chez toi ? ou autre connerie.
Mais c'est un chemin vers la liberté.
Jobaine's speaking, Love, from France.
A common railfan argument is that the railroads should paint and maintain heritage units as a gesture of goodwill to the general public. While I have heard many positive statements regarding these locomotives from the public, I believe that Veterans/First Responder painted units have even more of an impact on communities. In this photo, passengers march past the large, veterans decal after disembarking train 370 in Grand Rapids, MI. Surely every single passenger will be reminded that America's Railroad salutes our veterans. What better way to show appreciation for those who sacrificed than a rolling reminder of our gratitude.
"One of the things that I love the most are my sisters. Even when everything is falling apart our love is keeping us together. We have our little arguments but we forget all our tantrums and our wounds get healed with love. To share good things with them and to have them along with me all the time is one of the best feelings ever."
Tresa.
Thank you all for your appreciation.
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© 2014 Jordi Corbilla - All Rights Reserved.
Do not use any of my images
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Era otro de esos días que suelen caracterizar mi lamentable trayectoria como fotógrafo de trenes. Aprovechando que estábamos a finales de junio, madrugué lo indecible para aprovechar el día desde el momento en que despuntaba el sol. Elegí un puente situado en el entorno de La Pasiega en cuya larguísima recta aspiraba a fotografiar, entre otros, un interminable tren portacoches. En esa zona se está construyendo una plataforma logística y todo el tráfico relacionado con la monumental obra discurre por el puente en el que me había situado. Desde el momento en que llegué, la circulación de camiones era incesante, levantando nubes de polvo que el viento dirigía inapelablemente sobre la ajada figura de este apesadumbrado fotógrafo. Para mitigar sus efectos, salté la valla y me situé en la ladera contigua al puente. Sin embargo, desde la cercana obra se acercó un responsable de seguridad en el trabajo que me llamó la atención por haberme ubicado en un lugar que, desde su punto de vista, era muy peligroso. No tengo por costumbre enzarzarme en discusiones perdidas de antemano así que volví a exponer mi anatomía a las ominosas tormentas de polvo provocadas por una interminable hilera de camiones. Y mientras tanto, dónde estaban los trenes? Sí, las unidades de Cercanías circulaban con regularidad pero, como os imagináis, ni siquiera sacaba la cámara para, al menos, llevarme una foto testimonial de la jornada. Como soy de los que no se dan fácilmente por vencidos (¡menuda condena!) estuve en La Pasiega durante más de tres interminables horas en las que no hice ni una sola foto que valiera la pena. Cuando la orientación del sol empeoró, me sacudí el abundante polvo acumulado en la ropa y me dirigí al coche comprobando que iba a tener que llevarlo a un túnel de lavado. Tocaba volver a casa con el inconfundible sabor del fracaso en el paladar, pero, en un nuevo alarde de inconsciencia, opté por acercarme al puente situado a la entrada de la estación de Torrelavega. Allí se presentó la posible redención del fotógrafo bajo la forma del cotizado tren de cemento de Mataporquera a cargo de una irresistible 256....masacrada por nubarrones de grafitis que finalmente dieron la puntilla al desolado fotógrafo. Seis meses después del trauma, he reunido las fuerzas suficientes para desparasitar la locomotora y para cambiar el signo de la que había sido una horrenda jornada de trenes.
It was another one of those days that tend to characterize my lamentable career as a train photographer. Since it was late June, I got up incredibly early to make the most of the day from the moment the sun rose. I chose a bridge near La Pasiega, on whose very long straight stretch I hoped to photograph, among other things, an endless car-carrying train. A logistics platform is being built in that area, and all the traffic related to the monumental project passes over the bridge where I had positioned myself. From the moment I arrived, the flow of trucks was incessant, raising clouds of dust that the wind relentlessly directed toward the weary figure of this disheartened photographer. To mitigate its effects, I jumped the fence and positioned myself on the slope next to the bridge. However, a safety officer approached me from the nearby construction site and reprimanded me for standing in what he considered a very dangerous spot. I'm not one to get into arguments that are doomed from the start, so I once again exposed myself to the ominous dust storms kicked up by an endless line of trucks. And meanwhile, where were the trains? Yes, the commuter trains were running regularly, but as you can imagine, I didn't even bother taking out my camera to at least get a single photo to commemorate the day. Since I'm not one to give up easily (what a curse!), I spent more than three interminable hours in La Pasiega without taking a single worthwhile picture. When the sun's angle worsened, I brushed the copious dust off my clothes and headed to the car, realizing I'd have to take it to a car wash. It was time to go home with the unmistakable taste of failure lingering, but, in another act of recklessness, I decided to go to the bridge at the entrance to Torrelavega station. There, the photographer's potential redemption appeared in the form of the coveted concrete train from Mataporquera, pulled by an irresistible 256 locomotive... but riddled with clouds of graffiti that finally delivered the final blow to the distraught photographer. Six months after the trauma, I've mustered enough strength to clean the locomotive and turn around what had been a horrendous day of train travel.
I was inspired to do this by an incredible photographer I have discovered on Flickr. He's 3000 miles away and yet I still look forward to every message and photo posted.
I am typing this on the old Mac clamshell iBook my late husband bought on eBay for $100. That's not the weird part, the weird part is that his hands were on this very keyboard when he passed away. He was typing to his whore of a girlfriend.
As I type I am watching Who Put the M in Manchester. I am currently cultivating my depression and excitement simultaneously as I get to see Morrissey in just a few weeks for the first time. I told a coworker once I wished I were a gay man so Morrissey would return my love. He told me I was beyond a fag-hag or a fruit-fly, that I was a gay man trapped in a woman's body. Perhaps.
I won't eat anything that's artificially blue. Freaks me out. Those colors just don't exist on edible things in nature.
I am a bit of beer snob and lately have become obsessed with something called Sunset Wheat. Although if it's all that's available you can force me to drink something nasty out of a can. But you'll owe me big time.
I am OCD: I count the number of times I chew my food. I count my footsteps. If I step on a red square at the grocery store with my left foot I have to step on a right tile with my right foot too or I get a strange claustrophobic, anxious feeling over me.
I hate long toenails and obsessively clip my own. I have even clipped my best friend's toenails.
I love cake. Can't get enough of good cake, or tasty little cupcakes. Cupcakes make my day. I like to go to the IGA across the street before a holiday and buy a 35 cent cupcake because it comes with a little holiday-themed plastic ring stuffed into the frosting. And I will wear that cheap trinket for the rest of the day while I work.
I have a photographic memory when it comes to faces. I never forget people I've met. I've been known to freak people out when I recognize them and they don't know who I am.
I never shave my legs. I use something called an "emjoi" which is similar to an epilady. This bitch is tough, that's all I'm sayin'. I even use it on my underarms.
I think there's a delicate balance between too much chest hair and a bare chest on a man. I know a man with perfect chest hair when I see him, but it's inexplicable.
I had always been a cat person until I foolishly got not one, but two dogs. I can't imagine my hectic life without the little buggers.
I am exceptionally proud that in the last year I dropped from wearing a size ten jeans to a size four. I may never be a size 2 again, but dammit, four will suffice.
I am the black widow of community theatre. I have not been in a single show since May of 1995 without a cast member losing a loved one. I also nearly killed my friend Angel during The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas.
I only wear vanilla perfume and body lotion. I've tried straying and instead I wind up with a collection of body lotions that I unload on my 14 year old step daughter.
I am your typical woman I suppose, I collect shoes.
I have an ancient pair of electric blue Doc Martens that have been fully submerged in a river while I was shooting hot air ballons at 6 am.
I hate Valentine's Day. Not for the traditional reasons, but because I once received the most insulting VD gift ever and have never recuperated. I was given a card that said "Doesn't it feel like everyone except you is getting some?" and a vibrator. By my ass of a husband.
I am going to learn to play pool well enough to NOT make an ass of myself in public if it kills me.
I love flea markets. I love looking at other people's crap. I hate flea markets that are full of vendors that have tube socks and paintbrushes. I want a REAL flea market with odd furniture and trinkets and dogs tied under tables and a great food stand with hot dogs. I crave Sundays in the sun looking at crap and trying to find "it" for the day.
I have no college education to speak of.
I am bound and determined to visit almost every state in the US.
I wanted nothing more than to move out of this shitty state when I was a kid, and now that I've lived ten years of my adult life here and grown attached to friends and activities here I can't imagine leaving for more than a few years before needing to return.
I told my vet once that my dog is an asshole and I meant it.
I would rather clean a toilet than wash dishes. I hate leftovers.
Speaking of the kitchen I'm a mean cook.
I don't enjoy eating oranges. By the time I've got them peeled and in pieces my hands are so sticky from OJ and I've put forth such an effort to reach that state that I've totally lost interest and have to go wash my hands and throw everything away in disgust.
I had a friend in high school who was one of the funniest people I've ever met. Rather than write traditional notes to each other we would compose letters entirely of stick figures. I can still tell a stick figure story.
I had my left hand slammed in a locked car door when I was about three, and my fingers are all crooked on that hand to this day.
Three times in my life I've been carried out of a burning building. I am terrified of house fires.
I question everything.
When I was five I thought this woman we knew who had a lavender mohawk, tattoos, heavy black eyeliner, and a nose ring was the prettiest woman I'd ever seen. She may still be.
I sing everywhere. My car, my home, my office, the grocery store, wherever I damned well feel like it. No one has every asked me to stop, but I have received odd looks.
I love meat, but have a tough time preparing it. I am SO repulsed by raw chicken someone has to buy it for me, because I can't go near the display case. I actually went over four years of my life not eating chicken.
My best friend in high school was Mister New Hampshire, 1994. You can't make this shit up.
I refer to children who behave badly as birth control. I find nothing quite so offensive as the parent who thinks their child can do no wrong.
I was raised by hippies. When I was in preschool I'd tell people my favorite musicians were the Beatles, The Doors, and for some reason Boy George. I loved Boy George, yet I listened to The Magical Mystery Tour daily.
I've seen someone I love die.
I've never had a song written about me, but to date have inspired three poems. I hate poetry.
It's my goal to write a Christmas show for my theatre group one of these years, about a Christmas party, and write it around my favorite Christmas songs. I think Christmas carols are some of the most enjoyable songs to sing.
I'm not sold on having my own kids but would surrogate for a good friend in a heart beat. I'm not using my uterus for anything I figure.
The closest thing I've had to a religious experience was making eye contact with a juvenile gorilla. Amazing.
I ask too many questions and therefore have yet to find a religion for me to follow. There may not be one.
I will one day beat someone senseless for saying the term "soul mate" in a positive way. I don't know who, or when, but that point will come and I will break.
I love being at a concert and smelling the air when someone lights up a joint. I don't use drugs, but damn that always smells good.
I've been high once, and I had something horrible happen to me, and that's why I don't use drugs. I hate not being in control.
Two men I've dated and loved are dead, one I married, the other was a scumbag but I didn't know better.
I once spent three months listening to no other CDs or music except the album Grace by Jeff Buckley.
On a car trip from Winslow Arizona to Phoenix Dave and I listened to the same song by the Strokes the entire trip on repeat. I am still in love with that song.
I met a cute boy on myspace and we went out and played pool the other night, and I can't remember when I've had quite so much fun. And that was it, we played pool and had some drinks.
I am a floss addict. I love to floss my teeth. I find extreme gratification in clean teeth.
I went to a performance of The Fantasticks once with my friend Tamara and her daughter and we found the bit about "beating a man in a monkey suit" hilarious. I have never laughed so hard before or after that day. Never.
I am horribly near sighted and wear glasses or contact lenses. I had perfect eyesight as a kid but after a few years working in a photo lab I looked up from the negatives one day and couldn't see anything else.
My biggest pet peeve in the entire world is people not refilling ice cube trays. It's enough to drive me to crimes of passion.
I have a scar on my right knee from playing kickball in a vacant lot in Nanuet NY when I was six. I was wearing jellies. I went down, and still have dirt in my knee, 20+ years later. It's kinda neat.
I was once told I had wildly sexy ankles.
I enjoy talking to strangers. I may have been told too many times as a child to stay away from them.
I buy cheap toilet paper. I just don't care. How often and aggressively are people wiping that this is an issue?
I think puppies are arguably the cutest creatures on the planet, and when you hold one and it falls asleep in and snores in your arms? That's love.
I might not ever be sure how much I have warped my step daughter. But I know that she thinks I'm cool (now that she's older that is), I know I make her laugh a lot. And I think I scared the hell out of her with my threats of what she would grow up to be if she got knocked up in high school. There's a very strong potential she'll grow up to enjoy mockery as much as I do.
I love butter. To hell with margarine and its trans fats. I want to die from natural causes. Like too much butter.
I have a friend who asks herself, "What would Jenna do?" because she doesn't have the nuts to do half the stuff I would think of.
I think the truth is always funnier, stranger, and creepier than fiction. My life is proof.
Since my last trip to Las Vegas my coworker Jeremy and I have referred to each other as "Cockeyed Clams" at least once a day. And it's just as funny today as it was two weeks ago.
Not only is Henry Rollins one of the finest commentators of our time on politics and pop culture, I've been enamored of him since I was in junior high. I saw the video for Liar and was blown away by the fact that his neck was one mass of muscles, that it went straight from his head to his shoulders. I had no idea why, but I knew then that he was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. Still is.
I always wanted to excel at something cool like skateboarding; instead I found community theatre and spend my life being other people in front of large crowds.
I think Storyland, NH, is one of the best amusement parks in the country. I would be devastated by a summer without a trip to Storyland. Conversely, Funtown in Saco Maine is the Great Misnomer.
I finally broke down and bought thong underwear in the last year.
When I want to be left the hell alone so I can think I turn on the shower as hot as I can get it and sit in the tub until the water runs cold.
The ugliest argument I ever had was with my best friend. We went right for the throat. And we're still friends and I can't imagine my life without her opinions and laughter.
The scariest thing I've ever done was open the box containing my husband's ashes and coming face to face with what's left of him.
I've been known to have a Snickers bar for dinner. So what?
And my dog Gromit gets as excited as I do when we get to a drive through. He knows he's getting a deep fat fried chunk of chicken in the shape of a nugget. Life is good when he and I are in the car together.
I love liverwurst. As frightening as that really is, but damn. Some spicy honey mustard, a nice cheese, a big buttery cracker, and a slice of liverwurst and I'm in gluttony heaven. Just let's not discuss what I'm really eating. Please.
I snore. I have been known to drive people to sleeping on the couch.
I truly believe that A Christmas Story is one of the greatest films EVER. It has everything.
I love candy cigarettes and can't believe they were ever marketed to children. And yet I was house sitting for my friend recently and she left her 10 and 11 year old kids with me for a weekend. I bought them candy cigarettes. I'm going to hell, but not just for this
incident.
I still think David Letterman is the finest of the late night hosts.
My hair has only been its natural color twice since 1993.
I wouldn't say I'm terribly active, but when I want to go on a hike and take photos I want someone who can keep up with me. The perfect man would carry his own equipment, walk with me to that damned lighthouse on the Cape, and would gossip like a bitch and not mind dancing at a friend's wedding. There has got to be someone like that
out there who refills ice cube trays.
I think the Foo Fighter's version of Baker Street kicks ass.
I love my pink iPod nano. It holds enough music for some seriously good car trips, isn't that really what we need? Good car trip music?
I am estranged from my mother and her side of the family. Maybe some day I could have a healthy relationship with them, but history dictates a big NO to that idea.
I love my blender. I use it at least once a week. One of my girlfriends has informed me I cannot put frozen peaches, orange juice, and liquor in a blender and call it a smoothie, and yet I do.
I know exactly where I was both times my heart broke. The first time was in a room at Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center when I realized my husband hated me. The second time was the morning I found out he was dead.
It doesn't matter how long I've lived in NH or even that I know what it is, but every time I hear loons calling on the lake at night it scares the hell out of me.
My ideal sleeping pattern would be going to bed at 2 or 3 am and getting out of bed around lunch time. I'm never tired until 2 am, and I'm never functional before lunch time. I am the living dead until lunch.
I think a man who wears jeans and a white t-shirt is incredibly sexy.
I am a car chick like you wouldn't believe. I can work on cars, I love to drive a manual transmission, and I love old cars. The past year is the first year in my adult life I haven't had a project car. I am also bound and determined to some day have a beautiful pink Vespa.
I am one of those rare people who actually knows why I don't care for clowns. My parents hung a vintage Ringling Bros. poster on my bedroom wall. The clowns were more like hobos, with big boils on their faces and bad teeth. You try sleeping with those creeps looking at you.
I am a pack rat. I think it is a part of my OCD.
I never let my car get below a quarter of a tank of gas.
I wish I could play an instrument other than the kazoo. I learned acoustic guitar well enough to play two Joni Mitchell songs in high school, but I wouldn't call that proficiency.
I do whatever I want, when I want. That sounds simple, but I know all too well how short life is. I don't ever want to feel like I missed an opportunity or have a life full of "should haves".
I think nurses are some of the most special and important people on earth.
I had so much fun at a Halloween party at my friend Jeff's house last year that I went out and bought a costume for this coming year. I will be a Playboy Bunny, I even bought pink high heels with little bows on them to match the costume.
I still get carded for beer and wine. Works for me!
I'm the one who scratches bug bites until I bleed. Cuz I'm a real lady.
I think SPF 50 isn't quite enough.
When I look through the lens of my camera life is okay.
Hello everyone, I love all things feminine. I like to be treated like a lady and I am a gentle non-argumentive person. I am very clean and my house is well kept and neat.
These two Caspian Terns appeared over the lake at sunset. They were arguing and chasing each other with an awesome speed.. I have no idea what it was about.
Chesil Beach is 18 miles (28 kilometres) long and, on average, 160 metres wide and rises to 12 metres in height. It is a pebble and shingle tombolo connecting Portland to Abbotsbury and then continuing north-westwards to West Bay near Bridport. It is the largest tombolo in the UK.
The pebbles are graded in size from fist-sized near Portland to pea-sized at Bridport. The pebbles are mainly a mix of flint and chert, with some quartzite pebbles from Buddleigh Salterton.
The origin of the beach continues to be argued over with some proposing it is actually two beaches. The stretch from West Bay to Abbotsbury appears to have different characteristics to the stretch from Abbotsbury to Portland.
Chesil Beach shelters Weymouth from the prevailing wind and waves and prevents the area being eroded by wave action. Evidence suggests that the beach is no longer being replenished by natural means.
The beach forms part of the Dorset and East Devon World Heritage Site, known as the Jurassic Coast.
Chesil Bank
It is above all an elemental place, made of sea, shingle and sky, its dominant sound always that of waves on moving stone: from the great surf and pounding “grounds of seas” of sou’westers, to the delicate laps and back-gurgling of the rare dead calm….
John Fowles
www.chesilbeach.org/Chesil/description.html
Chesil Beach is a linear shingle storm beach stretching from Portland in the south to West Bay in the north-west. At its widest it is up to 200 metres in width. The height of the beach is typically 11 metres above mean sea level.
The seaward face of the beach is steeply shelving and this continues below the sea level until it gradually levels off at around 18 metres below sea level some 300 metres offshore in the southern part of the beach. Further north the offshore depth is around 11 metres.
There is a clear southern limit to the beach where it meets the limestone of Portland, but the northern limit is less distinct and depends on the definition used. Various limits have been proposed from Abbotsbury to West Bay. Geologically there is some merit in these arguments, but for practical purposes the limit is taken as the pier at West Bay. The pier is an effective barrier to longshore drift into or away from Chesil Beach.
The beach stabilised close to its present position some 5000 years ago. Since then it has been advancing slowly towards the mainland. Current estimates suggest that at the southern end this rate of advance is around 15 cms per year, with a slower rate further north. This advance occurs under storm conditions and is caused either by over-topping waves or by cann action where the water comes through the beach pushing quantities of pebbles out into the Fleet. This advancement is slowly causing increasing isolation of the various segments of the beach between Abbotsbury and West Bay.
Under storm conditions large quantities of pebbles can be removed from the beach onto the seabed. For severe storms the quantities can exceed 3 Million tonnes. Subsequent wave action then replaces these pebbles on the front of the beach.
There appears to be two types of storm conditions that affect Chesil Beach. The majority of storms are deep depressions approaching from the south-west where the combination of strong winds and low barometric pressure can produce storm surges in the English Channel combined with high local waves. A rarer type, but potentially more dramatic in impact, occurs when large storms out in the Atlantic generate huge, long-period swell waves that travel up the Channel and impact the Beach. Such waves can have a period of up to 20 seconds, compared with the 5-10 second period of local storm waves. Two such events are known to have occurred in 1904 and 1979.
www.chesilbeach.org/Chesil/formation.html
The formation of Chesil Beach has been much discussed over the years and is still the subject of continuing debate. Continuing research yields further insights into the origin of the material that forms the beach and how it was transported to its current location. This page presents a summary of one current view suggested by Malcolm Bray of Portsmouth University, a member of the Fleet Study Group. A more detailed document can be downloded here.
Chesil Beach initially formed from predominantly sandy deposits in Lyme Bay as water levels rose rapidly at the end of the last ice age 20,000-14,000 years ago. These deposits were eroded and the sand and gravel driven onshore as a barrier beach. As the barrier beach was driven further east by rising sea levels it overrode existing sediments and the Fleet was formed starting about 7000 years ago. The formation of the Fleet was virtually complete by 5000 years ago.
Sea levels stabilised 4000-5000 years ago and at that time Chesil Beach stood close to its present position. It was predominantly sandy with layers of shell and coarser material indicating over-washing by the sea.
At this time relict cliffs in East Devon, left stranded by falling sea levels during the ice age, were re-activated and the combination of re-working of extensive debris aprons and erosion of existing cliffs yielded large quantities of gravel. Estimates suggest that as much as 60 million cubic metres of gravel could have been supplied. This material was transported to Chesil Beach by longshore drift via a series of pocket beaches.
Coastal recession and human intervention have now depleted the beaches to the west of West Bay, resulting in increased prominence of the headlands. This has cut off the supply of material to Chesil Beach
Chesil Beach must now be regarded as a closed shingle system with no replenishment from outside sources. It is therefore sensitive to environmental changes such as rising sea levels. Ian West has suggested that Chesil Beach at Portland is moving eastward at around 15cm per year, with a much slower rate further north towards Abbotsbury.
www.chesilbeach.org/Chesil/pebbles.html
Chesil Beach is made up almost entirely of pebbles of various rock types. The only exception is in the north-west section of the beach from West Bexington to West Bay where there is some fine gravel and coarse sand overlaying the lower levels of the beach near the tide line. The pebbles are graded in size from fist-sized near Portland to pea-sized at West Bay.
The types of pebble that can be found are:
Flint
Flint originates from the chalk beds. They include the slightly brownish pebbles, most of the medium grey pebbles and also the less well- rounded pebbles. They are extremely hard, harder than most steels.
Chert
The chert pebbles are also extremely hard and originate from the upper greensand beds. They are often fairly clear and translucent with a pink or bluish tinge.
Quartzite
Quartzite pebbles originate from around Buddleigh Salterton and are discoidal pebbles coloured red, purple "liver-coloured", or white.
Granite
Granite is occasionally found on Chesil Beach. It can be identified by the coarse grain size, the pink or white feldspar, the quartz of glassy grey appearance, and the black mafic minerals, normally mica and/or hornblende. These pebbles probably originated from further west on the south-west peninsula or may have come from the ballast of ships wrecked on the beach..
Porphyry
These pebbles most probably come from the Permian breccia in Dawlish, Devon. They are similar to granite in appearance, but the crystal structure is rather different. They are comparatively rare on Chesil Beach.
Tourmalised rock
Pebbles of hard black, finely granular material are common. Somewhat irregular pebble of vein quartz, stained yellowish, and tourmalinised slate, all sheared and partially brecciated. The pebbles are usually irregular in shape as the tourmaline is quite brittle.
Breccia
A breccia is a rock of angular fragments. Only breccias that have been cemented strongly in hard silica can survive on Chesil Beach.
Portland stone
At Chiswell there are some limestone pebbles originating from the local Portland and Purbeck stone formations.
Kimmeridge oil shale
There is evidence that there was once an outcrop of oil shale on the back of Chesil Beach near Victoria Square on Portland. Pieces of shale can still be found on the beach and probably come from an outcrop under the sea off Chiswell.
Fossils
These are mostly found around Burton Bradstock and originate from the local cliffs.
Magnetite
This is believed to originate from the cargos of ships wrecked on Chesil Beach. The major concentration is near Abbotsbury and is believed to come from the SS Dorothea.
Peat
Pieces of peat can be found on Chesil Beach, particularly after storms. It comes from outcrops below the low tide level. It is mostly found at Chiswell and in an area around the tank defences at Abbotsbury
Pumice stone
Pieces of pumice stone are sometimes found washed up on the beach. Pumice is lava foam from volcanoes and contains sufficient air pockets to float. The stones on Chesil almost certainly came from volcanoes in the Caribbean Sea or central America. The colour varies from dark grey to almost white. They can be recognised by the large number of air pockets and that they are very light.
Others
Also found on Chesil Beach are Jasper, Agate, and Madrepores, but these are all very rare.
Further information
For a more detailed discussion of the pebbles that make up Chesil Beach visit Ian West's excellent website at Southampton University.
www.chesilbeach.org/Chesil/speclst.html
Chesil Beach is a major shingle beach and provides a maritime shingle environment. The seaward side of the beach is highly mobile under storm conditions and cannot support any plant communities. The eastern side of the beach is much more stable enabling plant communities to get established. In some areas the beach is sufficiently stable for a turf to form, particularly at Ferrybridge.
Apart from plants, the beach supports a rich variety of lichens and a few mosses. There are very few shrubs and no trees growing on the beach.
There is sufficient food from the plants and other sources to support a few mammals and the beach is used by a number of bird species for nesting.
The lists below show species that actually live, hunt, and/or nest on the beach. Transient species such as migrant birds are not included. Click on the groups below to see the species lists.
www.chesilbeach.org/chesil/specbirds.html
Skylark, Meadow Pipit, Ringed Plover, Linnet, Oystercatcher, Reed Bunting, Pied Wagtail, Common Tern, Little Tern,
www.chesilbeach.org/Chesil/specmamms.html
Fox, Hare, Roe Deer, Hare, Hedgehog, Long-tailed Field Mouse, Short-tailed Vole, Grey Squirrel,
www.chesilbeach.org/chesil/specplants.html
Common nameSpeciesW
Sea couchAgropyron pungens
Silvery hair grassAira caryophylla
Early hair grassAira praecox
Scarlet pimpernelAnagallis arvensis
Kidney vetchAnthyllis vulneraria
ThriftAmeria maritima
Thyme-leaved sandwortArenaria serpyllifolia
Tall oat-grassArrhenatherum elatius
Sea beetBeta vulgaris
Darnel's grassCatapodium marinum
Common centauryCentaurium erythraea
Red valerianCentranthus ruber
Common mouse-earCerastium fontanum
Sea mouse-earCerastium diffusum
Creeping thistleCirsium arvense
Danish scurvygrassCochlearia danica
Sea kaleCrambe maritima
SamphireCrithmum maritimum
CocksfootDactylus glomerata
Sea spurgeEuphorbia paralias
Portland spurgeEuphorbia portlandica
Red fescueFestuca ruba
Lady's bedstrawGalium verum
Herb robertgeranium robertianum
Yellow horned poppyGlaucium flavum
Sea-purslaneHalimione portulacoides
Common velvet grassHolcus lanatus
Tree mallowLavatera arborea
Sea peaLathyrus japonicus
Bird's foot trefoilLotus corniculatus
Common mallowMalva sylvestris
RestharrowOnonis repens
Lesser broomrapeOrobanche minor var minor
Buck's-horn plantainPlantago coronopus
Ribwort plantainPlantago lanceolata
BlackthornPrunus spinosa
BlackberryRubus fruticosa agg.
Curled dockRumex crispus
Procumbent pearlwortSagina procumbens
Biting stonecropSedum acre
Sea campionSilene maritima
Woody nightshadeSolanum dulcamera
Black nightshadeSolanum nigrum
Perennial sow-thistleSonchus arvensis
Shrubby sea blightSuaeda fruticosa
Annual sea blightSuaeda maritima
DandelionTaraxacum officinale
Breckland thymeThymus serpyllum
Haresfoot cloverTrifolium arvense
Lesser trefoilTrifolium dubium
Rough cloverTrifolium scabrum
Sea mayweedTripleurospermum maritimum
The information presented here has been derived from the following sources:
Colombe,S.V., Diaz,A. Plant communities of Chesil Beach. Lyme Bay Environmental Study Vol12. Kerr-McGee Oil(UK) plc, 1995.
Fitzpatrick,J.M. Terrestial plant communities of the Chesil Beach and the shores of the Fleet. In: The Fleet and Chesil Beach Ladle, M. (Ed). Fleet Study Group, 1981.
Eden,S.M. Flowering plants of the shores of the Fleet. In: The Fleet Lagoon and Chesil Beach. Carr,A.P., Seaward,D.R., and Sterling,P.H. (Eds).2000.
and personal observation by Fleet volunteers.