View allAll Photos Tagged BENIGN
La primavera è arrivata! la D100.052 di Hupac in noleggio a Captrain Italia traina il merci mattutino da Fossano a Cuneo, per poi proseguire su Busca, destinazione finale del "Cerealun". Tra i campi fioriti in quel di Ronchi si lascia immortalare al segnale d'avviso di San Benigno di Cuneo.
Armies come and armies go and in the fields their young they sow where later on the poppies grow, and every year they stand in line and swear they'll ever be benign but soon enough they start again and sacrifice more boys and men.
St. Charles de Potyze Cemetery near Ypres, Belgium
This is an archive shot of Cabbage Tree Creek at Shorncliffe, Brisbane in the late afternoon sun. Almost exactly 11 months later, the creek would be turned into a raging torrent that devastated local suburbs at levels never seen in previous floods because of the intensity of the rain.
We have friends who were victims of the creek and lost almost everything. Five weeks on, they are tearing their hair out with frustration as a well known high profile local insurance company has done nothing except make their life miserable. After five weeks they have hardly advanced with their claim because of poor customer service, lack of procedures for handling such events and a sneaky way of ensuring they pay out as little as possible despite promises in the PDS. They should have learnt after the public battering they received in 2011 but trade on their name, which in my opinion now, for a company I had a lot of respect for is worth sweet nothing. They rate 2 out of 10 after seeing what they have put our friends through.
This shot is taken just a bit upstream from where the creek enters Moreton Bay and as you can see, where the prawn trawlers tie up. They used to sell through a local Co-op but it closed years ago. Now they sell straight off the boat - can't get fresher than that.
Se io fossi il vento, non soffierei più su un mondo tanto malvagio e miserabile…
Eppure, lo ripeto e lo giuro, c’è qualcosa di glorioso e di benigno nel vento.
Herman Melville
It wasn't easy to make a choice for the Happy Caturday theme "Special Features" but then I took this closeup photo of Sethi which shows the spots in his right eye. These spots are due to a benign hyperpigmentation which is apparently quite common but none of our cats has ever had that. So this is definitely a special feature of Sethi. Happy Caturday !
La E652.041, miracolosamente pulita, traina i consueti 20 carri di clinker da Trino Vercellese a Robilante, ripresa al transito a San Benigno di Cuneo
The E652.041 surprisingly clean for Mercitalia Rail, is depicted whilst hauling the MRS Trino Vercellese-Robilante clinker freight train, while passing San Benigno Station.
The massive building shown here,set within an otherwise rural landscape,was the Willimantic Thread Factory.It was part of a thriving textile industry that was established near Hartford,Connecticut.over the course of the nineteenth century.
Julian Alden Weir's choice of a factory as a primary subject followed the lead of his French Impressionist mentors,who embraced history as part of the modern landscape.Weir made no reference to the drudgery of mill labor and the rising worker unrest occurring at the time.Instead,the factory is a benign presence among the town's bright white houses and church steeples.
Con le ultime luci di una fredda giornata autunnale, transita nei pressi di Madonna dell'Acqua questo MI Fiorentina di Piombino - Cremona, trainato dalla E494.001 stranamente in ottime condizioni estetiche.
Un saluto a Filippo Benigni e Marco Carrara per la compagnia!
Madonna dell'Acqua (PI) 29/11/2021
@ Michael Carli - mike97tigre
Somewhere in Maine... or perhaps New Hampshire. I was traveling that day, and am honestly not sure which side of the state line I was on when I took this.
I added a bit of vignette and took down the saturation in post, to give it a vintage look.
HFF!
One of the entries at the Sculpture by the Sea exhibition . "Dave".
For 'Smile on Saturday', theme: funny art
Coady (Vic)
Dave (2023)
Statement: Dave is a reference to Michelangelo’s luminous marble carving of David, the epitome of male perfection for centuries. By projecting this thinking into the contemporary realm , the new version of David (or ‘Dave’ as he is known to his friends) cuts a benign figure in the midst of social change. With gender rules and traditional male stereotypes fading, COADY describes Dave’s characteristics as a more baby boomer than millennial, a journey in time that has redefined notions of masculinity.
Amigo de sus amigos,
¡qué señor para criados
y parientes!
¡qué enemigo de enemigos!
¡qué maestro de esforzados
y valientes!
¡qué seso para discretos!
¡qué gracia para donosos!
¡qué razón!
¡cuán benigno a los sujetos!
¡a los bravos y dañosos,
qué león!
…………………Coplas por la muerte de su padre/ Jorge Manrique.
Poco distante dal Rif.Benigni giace il lago ancora completamente ghiacciato, sovrastato dalla cima occidentale dei Piazzotti a 2349m.
We received the results on Megans tests, both lumps are benign, I am so happy and hopefully I will get a good night sleep tonight :))
Thank you for taking the time to stop by, your comments or criticism is very much appreciated, take care,stay safe and have a lovely evening !!
la gente vede... sente... e parla...
purtroppo però vede male, sente poco e parla troppo.....
( roberto benigni )
La E656-555, passata da poco dal servizio passeggeri SU al servizio Cargo, transita con i vuoti dell'acqua tra Centallo e Cuneo. Purtroppo questo treno del sabato non viene più effettuato.
San Benigno di Cuneo, 18/2/2017
Foto: Flavio Tecco
Well now I’ve started on a short hike through the archives and turned left at the Iceland folders, I’m going to keep on going a little bit further. Next stop Haifoss and a slightly longer hike to the bottom of the canyon. Until a couple of weeks before Lee and I returned to Iceland we didn’t know it was possible to get down here without a set of climbing ropes, crampons and hard hats. Hadn’t even considered the possibility of it in fact. We weren't even trying to find out whether we could - we were quite content at the prospect of taking photos from the top of the ridge on the opposite side of this huge waterfall. But then, and with remarkably fortuitous timing, one of our YouTube regulars took a workshop group down to the base and photographed it from the river. Suddenly an hour or two at most morphed into a half day or more of potential, and any last thoughts of trying to shoehorn a diversion to Gulfoss into the itinerary were abandoned. Gulfoss would be inundated with visitors anyway, and we’d rather avoid the Selfiegrammers. Haifoss was for the hardcore only, with the road marked as off limits to anything other than four wheel drive vehicles - not that this stopped a few intrepid souls from bouncing and bumping along the last section of rutted road in their Fiat Pandas. Good luck with the insurance excess Girls and Boys!
The hike itself wasn’t too difficult at all - at least the downhill half of it wasn’t. Easy to follow, yet most of the small number of people who’d come this far stayed at the top and peered down into the abyss while we trooped virtuously into the bowels of the landscape. And fortune favours the self righteous when it brings you to a view like this. Ok, there may be one or two rocks in the river that we would happily see being removed, but nobody from the Icelandic Landscape Photographers’ Guild has seen fit to try and drive a JCB down here just yet, so we’ll just have to live with them I suppose. Mother Nature is usually pretty consistent, but I don’t suppose she can be perfect all the time. Maybe I should have worked on the other shot from down here that never saw the light of day instead. Yes, I might have to put some words together for that one too. In fact I’ve just reworked both of them so it’s bound to happen eventually.
This picture of Haifoss isn’t one of the more than twenty pre-prepared and as yet unposted stories from our Iceland adventures, all of which were written and ready more than two years ago. I was mired down in a book project in the hopes that my children might find it gathering dust on a shelf one day in the future after I’m gone. Nobody else is ever going to look at them very much, and they certainly don’t show the slightest interest at present. They keep on complaining about the joys and woes of bringing up a child as if I’ve somehow forgotten what it was like. I mean they only have one benign little toddler each, and I’ve reminded them enough times before that when they were the ages that little Sennen and Alfie are now, I was dealing with both of them, separated by two and a half years and more often than not one of us parents pleading for a ceasefire. And anyone who’s had more than one child knows that when the second baby comes along it’s more like nine more of them just got added to the family rather than one. Boom! There goes the silence…..
Apologies - I’ve digressed, and you can probably already tell that this particular yarn failed to make the coffee table volume which resides beside me on the office desk where nobody else ever sits. Lee bought a copy - I suspect he’s the only other person who’s ever looked at it. He’d see this image in the introductory page alongside a passage of blurb that explains why I like Iceland so much, but no story. And I think it deserves a story. That’s why we’re here now, at the bottom of the one hundred and twenty-eight metre single drop monster, covered in spray and gazing at rainbows. It always impresses me that these huge waterfalls can produce their own microclimates, complete with fairytale rainbows hanging across the scene. A dramatic world in miniature that few will ever find because of the effort required to get here at all. Playing with a curious mixture of focus stacking and time blending because I wanted that rush of texture in the foreground flow, but I’m greedy and I was also after the hanging sheets in the waterfall set against the stubborn brown walls of the canyon.
And yes, I did hike down here in my wellies. All the better to get into the water with, unless I wanted to attempt to cryogenically preserve my feet for the next twenty-thousand years. It seems I’m content to do that with quite a lot of these pictures, so why not add feet to the archive? Perhaps not. And do you know what? I just had a look at the folders where I keep the raw files, and thirty-five groups of images haven’t even been touched at all. Thirty-five! Even I’m shocked by that. Ok, some of them are probably never going to make it into the editing suite, but that’s a lot of images from the biggest landscape photography trip we’ve ever made, just lying around completely ignored for more than three years. I’d forgotten many of them. About time I started re-acquainting myself I think.
A lo largo del año se suceden desde que la vida es vida una serie de acontecimientos naturales que acaban marcando el paso inexorable de las estaciones del año y que para un fotógrafo de vida salvaje se acaban convirtiendo en la herramienta perfecta para plasmar, no solo esa vida natural, sino, además, ese mismo paso del tiempo, ancestral e inmutable. Con la llegada del otoño los bandos de grullas (Grus grus) regresan a sus cuarteles de invierno y nos ayudan a describir el transcurrir lento pero imparable de las manecillas del reloj, lo mismo que, a menor escala, el amanecer de la nueva jornada. Generaciones de seres habremos nacido y muerto infinitas veces, mientras el tiempo avanza. El tic-tac del reloj se transforma así en los latidos de la vida. Como cada año los bandos de grullas regresan a las dehesas españolas y portuguesas en busca de un clima más benigno y un puñado de bellotas. Este bando fotografiado en tierras salmantinas inicia como cada mañana su jornada laboral entre las encinas de una dehesa cualquiera del Campo Charro. Amanece tranquilo y apacible un nuevo día, soleado y amable, marcando sin darnos cuenta el propio paso del tiempo.
On one of the potted plants in the Garden of Benign Neglect.
Not sure why it's on the pot rim instead of the milkweed plant it's been feeding from. Taking a break ?
Note. Next day it was back on the plant chomping away.
Forest flora is not all benign: on the left is stinging nettle (definitely want to avoid contact), front right is bleeding heart (toxic if ingested), but the moss is mostly benevolent. :-) The leaf litter and bark feeds them all.
Project 365-087
Immagine scattata a Malcesine
Corretta in post produzione con Photoshop
Grazie per la visita ed i commenti.
Picture taken in Malcesine
Post production corrections were done with Photoshop.
Thanks for the visit, comments, awards, invitations and favorites.
Please don't use this image on websites, blogs or other media
without my explicit permission.
Please respect the artists copyright © All rights reserved
Questa immagine è stata pubblicata sul calendario 2017
This image was posted on the calendar in 2017
“For ****'s sake he’s all about Kerry First! Him and his brother own the whole town and they’re only interested in one thing!”
My uncle was unimpressed, while I was greatly amused. I’d taken a shine to the man whose picture I’d seen on the boards down west, for no better reason than the fact he reminded me of Roy Castle. You remember Roy don’t you? Jazz trumpet, flat cap, Norris on the Spot and all that? Part of my hinterland was the ever smiling Roy. But it seems appearances can be deceptive. By all accounts this benign looking character was the Kerry Tr*mp. Make Kerry great again!
If Ireland hadn’t had enough of them elsewhere in the world this year, they still had all of the accompanying nonsense that would come with their own general election at the end of the month. Much to the bemusement of my Cork family, I was fascinated by the endless sequence of campaign boards that festooned the side of almost every provincial or town centre road we drove along. Only along the motorways and country lanes was it possible to drive without an endless line of ingratiating smiles filling the verges. I’ve never seen quite so many, all of them bearing photographs of the runners and riders gazing passively back at me. In Cork, I soon became fascinated by the improbably named and impressively coiffured Deirdre O’Brien O’Keeffe, standing for Fianna Fáil, one of the two main parties. That’s a lot of surnames beginning with O. Sporting a blond bouffant that looked as if it moved independently of the rest of her, Deirdre was just the opening player in my fascination for the pictures on the hundreds of posters that greeted me every few yards wherever I went. In the end I had to ask Fiona to slow down so I could take phone snaps as we went past. I’ve never been to the USA, neither at election time nor otherwise, but this is the kind of thing I visualise if ever I think about it.
When I drove down to the west on my own, the gratuitous expressions remained the same, but the faces changed as I crossed the border into County Kerry. Some disgruntled graffiti artist with a marker pen had given Norma Foley, also of Fianna Fáil, a makeover. She looked very fetching with her new lip jewellery. Meanwhile her chief opposition (I assume), Billy O’Shea of Fianna Gael, stared stonily back at me, daring me to vote for somebody else if I wanted my entire family to be buried under the Macroom bypass the day after the election. Sorry Billy - I don’t have a vote. Another Fianna Fáil man, Michael Cahill had the careworn expression of a former boss, transporting me back to the early years of my career in the 1990’s. Michael looked as tired and disillusioned as Mr Banks always seemed to. Did he really need the daily cut and thrust of party politics?
And then there was Michael Healy-Rae, the independent candidate, a shy smile playing at the corners of his eyes. This was my man, I decided. Even though I couldn’t vote for anyone at all. The fact that he faintly resembled a childhood TV favourite was enough for me - at least until my uncle put his head in his hands and told me that Healy-Rae was a professional “nice-but-dim” character, playing for the popular vote under a thinly woven veil of charming buffoonery. Sound familiar? Perhaps the fact that another discontented creative in Dún Chaoin had decorated his top lip with a toothbrush moustache should have told me. I never trust people who tell us they have easy answers to difficult questions. As I jumped back down from a high verge onto the quiet country lane by the junction after grabbing my shots from this unexpected blizzard on the high ground, there was Mr Healy-Rae himself grinning at me from another board that one of his supporters had planted at the roadside. Nobody had decorated this one yet.
And as for making Kerry great again. When wasn’t it great here? It looks pretty good to me anyway. In this peaceful enclave, almost entirely cut off from the rest of the country, the scenery is as jaw droppingly beautiful as you can imagine. A dusting of snow on the mountains and a coastline to rival anywhere else I’ve ever seen, and maybe a bit more too. I moved on to the next location in the fading light and forgot all about elections for a while.
Este Jardín procede de la Antigua Huerta del Retiro,diseñado por José Gómez Millan a principios del siglo XX.Recibe su nombre de Benigno de la Vega-Inclán,II Marqués Vega-Inclán,conservador del Alcázar durante el periodo de construcción de este Jardín
Taken through the deck slats down towards the back fence. Surprised I got an image.
The sparrow was fixated on the group of fellow sparrows scavenging through the Garden of Benign Neglect.
I caught these mating Merlins at Beaumaris Lake today. The female braced herself on the branch when the male came in. It was interesting to see how the talons of the male rested so benignly on her back during this very brief encounter. But of course they know how to do this :)
Beaumaris Lake. Edmonton. Alberta.
Added to my Canada 150 Album.
Yippee! It happened! My one and lonely cactus bloom has blossomed. I internally debated about calling the newspaper, fortunately the saner half won. I'm still seriously chuffed about it though, go Cactus!
Ecco a voi una LIS composta da D445.1014+D445.1118 provenienti da Siena e diretta a Firenze Santa Maria Novella. Ringrazio Filippo Benigni per la compagnia.
TTR 009 + 006 "Bianchino" provenienti da Chieri e diretti a Rivarolo Canavese. Nella foto i due treni impiegano il ponte sul Malone a San Benigno Canavese.
La Rocca di Malcesine risalirebbe agli ultimi secoli del primo millennio a.C. ma risulta più attendibile la notizia che un castello sia stato costruito dai Longobardi, verso la metà del primo millennio d.C.
Il castello venne distrutto dai Franchi nel 590. Fu da loro stessi riedificato e ospitò nel ‘806 il re Pipino, giunto a Malcesine per visitare i Ss. Benigno e Caro. Dopo le invasioni degli Ungari, entrò a far parte dei feudi vescovili veronesi.
Nel 1277 divenne dominio di Alberto della Scala. Rimase sotto il casato fino al 1387.
Interventi risalenti a questo periodo diedero origine all’attuale denominazione: “Castello Scaligero”.
I Visconti di Milano lo occuparono dal 1387 al 1403.
La Repubblica di Venezia lo incorporò nel 1405. L’Impero lo riconquistò nel 1506. Ritornò alla Repubblica dal 1516 al 1797. Poi passò ai Francesi.
Nel 1798 ai Francesi subentrarono gli Austriaci, i quali eseguirono consistenti lavori di consolidamento all’interno del Castello e lì rimasero fino al 1866.
Da quell’anno seguì le sorti del Veneto.
Il 22 agosto del 1902 venne dichiarato Monumento Nazionale.
Este Jardín recibe el nombre de Benigno de la Vega- Inclán ,2º Marqués Vega-Inclán ,conservador del Alcázar durante el periodo de construcción de este Jardín .Aparte de su exuberante vegetación tiene varias fuentes,algunas como esta con canalillos muy típicos en la decoración de los musulmanes en sus Jardines
L’estate, oltreché liberandoci dai patimenti,
produce in noi il desiderio de’ piaceri,
ci dà anche una confidenza di noi stessi
e un coraggio che nascono dalla facilità e libertà di agire che noi proviamo allora per la benignità dell’aria.
GIACOMO LEOPARDI
Zibaldone
La e191 002 di Fuorimuro transita subito dopo la stazione di San Benigno con 3 carri del Villa Opicina - Cuneo precedentemente scartati a Fossano per problemi di prestazione sulla rampa di accesso a Cuneo
It was only as I planted my tripod on the rocks, facing directly north out towards the sea stacks that I noticed. Behind the rock wall to the right and to my enduring surprise, half of the lighthouse was poking out. There was plenty of scope to move further down and across. I left the tripod and the bag where they were, and dropped down until I came to a sheer precipice where the lighthouse was now in full view; a scene I’d never witnessed before, neither with my own eyes nor through anyone else’s lens. There was plenty of room to set up safely on a pleasingly flat platform - it hadn’t rained for well over a week by now and the rocks weren’t at all slippery - and so I returned to retrieve my gear and try this totally unexpected new composition.
What I particularly liked was that there was another cauldron here, that was small enough to churn the benign sea into something interesting. I do like a good cauldron. When the swell is a bit more lively, the one that sits beneath the classic view of the lighthouse is quite magnificent. I’ve often returned home with well over a hundred shots of exactly the same view and then had to pore through them for the ones I like best. It’s much the same at Botallack. People often comment that the sea looks wild and stormy when they see an image I’ve shared from there, but it very often wasn’t wild at all. It’s just the way the water moves in and out of the bowl, the outgoing waves smashing into the arrivals and creating drama that I never tire of, and that always entrances me at my chosen shutter speed. And while the ocean was completely flat, bringing nothing of interest to the more famous view of the lighthouse, here in this intimate spot, out of view from everyone except for the sea anglers on the rocks below it, there was more than enough action to have me reaching for the six stop filter and the polariser.
It was the end of another of a series of clear, blue sky days in which barely a cloud appeared to add drama or texture to this surprise view, but there was plenty enough of that in both the rocks and the water that swirled and eddied below. With the remote shutter cable attached, I shot in bursts as groups of small waves raced in and washed across the base of the cliffs, trying to imagine what it would look like here with a big swell. Too dangerous to stand in this spot for starters I’d say. There’s a big buttress of rock to your immediate left, blocking much of the incoming sea, but just to the other side of that sits a gap in the rocks from where a nice big wave could easily catch the visitor unawares in rough weather. Today it was fine, but I don’t think I’ll be visiting in anything other than quiet, dry conditions. Not the sort of place you want to have an accident, because even if somebody was there with you to raise the alarm I’m not sure what your chances would be. But when those days return, the classic view is an easy win. I know of people who’ve taken pictures from there in biblical weather that have come away unscathed. Here, I reckon they’d have been swept away in an instant.
As exploratory adventures go, this one had turned out to be an unexpected success. I’d discovered new compositions that I was very happy with, and after an afternoon spent entertaining my two year old grandson at his home in Wadebridge while his parents were both working, it was a fine way to wind down and enjoy the golden hour at the coast. I’d also discovered a headland that I’d been to plenty of times before, yet hadn’t fully exploited because I’d never really got past the blindingly obvious shot of the lighthouse that we’ve all seen plenty of times before. Of course that’s a fantastic view, but isn’t it fun to realise that there are other shots to be had from here too?
Finally, some of you know that I had some serious issues with my account this week. Well for six days, and after almost eleven years here, I didn’t have an account at all. It was a mistake and that was ultimately acknowledged with an apology, but only after some of you had stepped in and spoken on my behalf. You know who you are and there aren’t words to express my gratitude and enormous relief that everything is back to normal. We’re members of an amazing community here on Flickr, and I’m truly humbled that people, one of whom I’ve never even met, would go to such lengths to help me. You made the difference. Once again, many thanks to those of you who sent messages of support. I’m just delighted to be able to share another story from the Cornish coast with you here this morning. Have a good weekend!
An ambiance shot in Peveto Woods, an Audubon bird sanctuary right on the coast of SW Louisiana near Holly Beach. Butterflies and mosquitoes but few birds. Audubon advises letting the sanctuary recover from the beating it's taken this year. Benign neglect.
Last in the brief series of northern prairie reptiles is the Greater Short-horned Lizard. The only species of lizard found in Saskatchewan and Alberta, it is limited to about ten scattered locations and considered endangered in Canada, mostly due to human intrusion and industrial development (oil and gas). Thankfully, the population in Grasslands Park is fully protected.
I had not seen one for years, so it was very exciting to notice a sudden furtive movement at my feet while walking the rim of a coulee. And there it was!
They're small; this one was about 4 inches in length. Due to its girth, I think it's a female; males are more narrowly built, and tend to be shorter. Once again, I found myself on my belly with the macro lens, trying not to stick myself with nearby cactus thorns, trying to convince a reptile that I was a benign monster and not a predator. Haha, good luck with that! But it did pose nicely for about 100 shots before I left it in peace. Total time spent with this critter (according to EXIF data): 15 minutes.
This is an appropriate day to offer a shot of a lizard, not because it is the 147th anniversary of Custer's well-deserved defeat at the Little Bighorn, but because this morning I am going on a lizard walk with some friends and a local biologist. That's one advantage of living next to a national park: research and conservation projects are ongoing, and I get to meet experts in various scientific disciplines. I might even retain some of the information they so generously share.
Photographed in Grasslands National Park, Saskatchewan (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2023 James R. Page - all rights reserved.
This is the more benign California version known as "Psychedelic Rain"
(actually the result of shooting thru a Windex treated raining upon window)
Esta flor está en la casa de mi hijo.
Se la agradezco a Oli, que es una antigua amiga de Flickr que vive en Michoacan, México y que hizo una compra para mí a una persona que vive en Canarias que colecciona y vende hoyas.
Esta actual plantita hija de ese esqueje canario, no sufre el frío de la noche porque tenemos un otoño bastante benigno y además la planta está debajo de un alero y la mía tiene más frío...no ha florecido!
Por suerte ayer llegué para verla y tomé esta imagen que comparto con vosotros , es muy especial , de verdad parece de porcelana y con esta florecilla central "cosida" a la mayor... bueno que voy a decir yo que amo esta especie...ya sabéis que no puedo ser objetiva con ellas...Abuertas i cerradas son igualmente magnificas
Gracias por "aguantarme" y feliz semanita!!!
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Based on a LNER-design by Sir Nigel Gresley during WW2, these locomotives bear all the hallmarks of a heavy duty build that's perhaps more consistent with the physical needs of a steam locomotive rather than the lesser moving parts and more benign environment of electric traction.
Constructed post-war between 1950 and 1953 for use on the 1500v DC Woodhead route they carried some modifications to the 1941-built prototype 'Tommy', while still bearing the armour plate appearance of the original.
Seen here is unit 76053 which is heading down the Dearne Valley towards Wath Yard with what looks like an engineers' train. Mitchell Main Signal Box, which controls the road crossing I'm stood upon, is just out of sight on my right, and the small South Yorkshire town of Wombwell forms the backdrop.
The railway disappeared from here almost 40 years ago but the trackbed was retained to form part of the long distance Trans-Pennine Trail where, those with time and energy to burn, can make their way over a sizeable part of the defunct Woodhead route to eventually end up on the banks of the River Mersey.
The fields are long gone too and in their place now stands a retail / industrial park. In the distance can be see a rake of parked-up Merry Go Round wagons - a sign of the importance of coal to this route.
Should blow up to full-screen for anyone interested in rivet-counting, or seeing a bit more! Commenting off for this one, thanks.
Ilford FP4 rated at 160asa, developed in Acutol.
1st July 1977
Una foto di qualche anno fa, credo due . Non ricordo su quale monte, ma era nella Riviera di Ponente, dopo Albenga.
Quello che si vede salire è Andrea Messina, l'architetto che ha progettato il Matitone e il Centro di San Benigno a Sampierdarena. Mi hanno detto che il suo nome è nei testi di Architettura. Una mente eccezionale, anche con una memoria eccezionale : sino a 2 anni fa si recava tutti i giorni nel suo ufficio a Sampierdarena, da Arenzano, dove abita. E aveva fatto anche dei progetti per degli uffici di una Società americana nel Matitone.
Per me un amico che rimpiango per la sua gentilezza, la sua intelligenza. Era stato anche istruttore di sci, più di 60 anni nel Cai. Una resistenza eccezionale, andava più forte di me.
Perché Andrea ora ha 89 anni. Incredibilmente. E questo può dare speranza a tutti quelli che si sentono stanchi e scoraggiati. Molti anni fa mi aveva raccontato che aveva avuto anche lui gravi problemi di salute, polmonari mi sembra, ma li aveva superati.
In auto ero spesso con lui , parlavamo molto e avevamo approfondito la nostra amicizia. Mi raccontava anche la sua vita, dagli anni di giovane architetto a Torino ( dove il padre era emigrato dal sud ), proprio come me, alla sua vita a Genova, con la amata moglie, compagna di scalate, e ora molto malata.
Purtroppo il periodo del lock down è stato fatale, nel senso che non ha più ripreso le gite con noi (ma sono sicura che continuerà a camminare sulle alture di Arenzano) . Mi ha detto che aveva paura di rimanere indietro e non voleva intralciare gli altri. Mi ero offerta, ben volentieri, di stare con lui, nel caso che non ce la facesse, ma non è più venuto.
Mi dispiace veramente molto, è difficile trovare una persona così. Però mi resta nel cuore tutto quello che mi ha donato : la sua forza d'animo, oltre che fisica, il suo equilibrio, la sua pacatezza, il suo sorriso, la sua intelligenza.
Ciao Andrea
Purtroppo i graffitari non risparmiano nemmeno EVM. Così dopo un'acuta pulizia digitale, la E191.023 si presenta in un modo degno davanti al consueto merci da Villa Opicina per Cuneo, in transito a San Benigno di Cuneo.
Grain train from Villa Opicina to Cuneo passing through San Benigno Station. The locomotive has been digitally cleaned from its graffiti.
Soft light falling on the gentle slopes surrounding Stane Street (Roman Road) built from Chichester to Londinium (London)
Infrared 720 produced in gentle cream tones.
The South Downs National Park, England
The gardens of Chastleton House, Oxfordshire, have recently been splendidly restored. Built in the very early 1600s, the house itself has been carefully preserved by the National Trust, though deliberately not fully restored, respecting many years of benign neglect by its previous owners. I urge all those who visited the house in the Trust's early years of ownership, when very few rooms were accessible and the gardens overgrown, to make a return visit - they will not be disappointed.