View allAll Photos Tagged Blight
In the Aarax system, widows and widowers without children are sent to the moon of Aarax-5 to serve at the temple of the Many-Legged God. Here these acolytes worship the native tunnel spiders and harvest their silk. Whenever the temple comes under attack by raiders, the acolytes man a squadron of advanced 'Weaver' starfighters created on the Aarax homeworld for the express purpose of defending the temple.
Another starfighter with two gun prongs! I was happy to be able to use those two mast pieces and that weird windscreen. More starfighters coming and some larger microspace ships :)
Early autumn at Cors-y-Llyn, and this young birch tree is already in bud, yet still a single leaf is hanging on in there.
This is an image I shot a few days ago located in the Lower 9th Ward of New Orleans. There are several houses in this condition, some are worse. They are deserted since Hurricane Katrina. That part of the city is making a come-back, but at a very slow pace. And, to think these houses were once homes for families.
Nikon FM2
35 to 70mm Nikkor lens
Fujifilm ISO 200
On my way to Big Bend National Park (where I am now--or rather, nearby), I passed through the midge sized town of "Royalty," Texas, which looks as if it had never lived up to its name, but even less now with many homes vacant and what few businesses there ever were, there are far fewer today (possibly none). This appears to have been some kind of store, and in better shape than many of its brethren--derelicts that are barely standing. Note the door, i.e., zoom in on it. It's pretty cool.
What am I doing in Texas? Well, I became utterly sick of this miserable Autumn we've been having in Kansas, so am seeking warmer climes. Actually, the cold weather has been following me and I keep meeting people who are just as sick of the weather as I am. Things began an upswing today, however, and it should be in the 60's the next few days.
To me this resembles an HDR image that had been tone-mapped, but it is not.
The area that was to become West Palm Beach was settled in the late 1870s and 1880s by a few hundred settlers who called the vicinity "Lake Worth Country." These settlers were a diverse community from different parts of the United States and the world. They included founding families such at the Potters and the Lainharts, who would go on to become leading members of the business community in the fledgling city. The first white settlers in Palm Beach County lived around Lake Worth, then an enclosed freshwater lake, named for Colonel William Jenkins Worth, who had fought in the Second Seminole War in Florida in 1842. Most settlers engaged in the growing of tropical fruits and vegetables for shipment the north via Lake Worth and the Indian River. By 1890, the U.S. Census counted over 200 people settled along Lake Worth in the vicinity of what would become West Palm Beach. The area at this time also boasted a hotel, the "Cocoanut House", a church, and a post office. The city was platted by Henry Flagler as a community to house the servants working in the two grand hotels on the neighboring island of Palm Beach, across Lake Worth in 1893, coinciding with the arrival of the Florida East Coast railroad. Flagler paid two area settlers, Captain Porter and Louie Hillhouse, a combined sum of $45,000 for the original town site, stretching from Clear Lake to Lake Worth.
On November 5, 1894, 78 people met at the "Calaboose" (the first jail and police station located at Clematis St. and Poinsettia, now Dixie Hwy.) and passed the motion to incorporate the Town of West Palm Beach in what was then Dade County (now Miami-Dade County). This made West Palm Beach the first incorporated municipality in Dade County and in South Florida. The town council quickly addressed the building codes and the tents and shanties were replaced by brick, brick veneer, and stone buildings. The city grew steadily during the 1890s and the first two decades of the 20th century, most residents were engaged in the tourist industry and related services or winter vegetable market and tropical fruit trade. In 1909, Palm Beach County was formed by the Florida State Legislature and West Palm Beach became the county seat. In 1916, a new neo-classical courthouse was opened, which has been painstakingly restored back to its original condition, and is now used as the local history museum.
The city grew rapidly in the 1920s as part of the Florida land boom. The population of West Palm Beach quadrupled from 1920 to 1927, and all kinds of businesses and public services grew along with it. Many of the city's landmark structures and preserved neighborhoods were constructed during this period. Originally, Flagler intended for his Florida East Coast Railway to have its terminus in West Palm, but after the area experienced a deep freeze, he chose to extend the railroad to Miami instead.
The land boom was already faltering when city was devastated by the 1928 Okeechobee hurricane. The Depression years of the 1930s were a quiet time for the area, which saw slight population growth and property values lower than during the 1920s. The city only recovered with the onset of World War II, which saw the construction of Palm Beach Air Force Base, which brought thousands of military personnel to the city. The base was vital to the allied war effort, as it provided an excellent training facility and had unparalleled access to North Africa for a North American city. Also during World War II, German U-Boats sank dozens of merchant ships and oil tankers just off the coast of West Palm Beach. Nearby Palm Beach was under black out conditions to minimize night visibility to German U-boats.
The 1950s saw another boom in population, partly due to the return of many soldiers and airmen who had served in the vicinity during the war. Also, the advent of air conditioning encouraged growth, as year-round living in a tropical climate became more acceptable to northerners. West Palm Beach became the one of the nation's fastest growing metropolitan areas during the 1950s; the city's borders spread west of Military Trail and south to Lake Clarke Shores. However, many of the city's residents still lived within a narrow six-block wide strip from the south to north end. The neighborhoods were strictly segregated between White and African-American populations, a legacy that the city still struggles with today. The primary shopping district remained downtown, centered around Clematis Street.
In the 1960s, Palm Beach County's first enclosed shopping mall, the Palm Beach Mall, and an indoor arena were completed. These projects led to a brief revival for the city, but in the 1970s and 1980s crime continued to be a serious issue and suburban sprawl continued to drain resources and business away from the old downtown area. By the early 1990s there were very high vacancy rates downtown, and serious levels of urban blight.
Since the 1990s, developments such as CityPlace and the preservation and renovation of 1920s architecture in the nightlife hub of Clematis Street have seen a downtown resurgence in the entertainment and shopping district. The city has also placed emphasis on neighborhood development and revitalization, in historic districts such as Northwood, Flamingo Park, and El Cid. Some neighborhoods still struggle with blight and crime, as well as lowered property values caused by the Great Recession, which hit the region particularly hard. Since the recovery, multiple new developments have been completed. The Palm Beach Mall, located at the Interstate 95/Palm Beach Lakes Boulevard interchange became abandoned as downtown revitalized - the very mall that initiated the original abandonment of the downtown. The mall was then redeveloped into the Palm Beach Fashion Outlets in February 2014. A station for All Aboard Florida, a high-speed passenger rail service serving Miami, Fort Lauderdale, West Palm Beach, and Orlando, is under construction as of July 2015.
Credit for the data above is given to the following website:
A forlorn first-generation Honda Civic, abandoned on a dirt road, west of Tonopah, Nevada.
Night, 2 minute exposure. Full moon, yellow and red-gelled flashlight. Composite of 2 exposures.
Reprocessed and replaced February 2023.
Some time ago, as we were crossing the Astoria-Megler bridge over the mighty Columbia River, I looked upstream and spied an unusual vessel moored along Astoria's waterfront. I made a note to myself to get a better look at it someday.
Someday turned out to be yesterday. We parked near the old New England Fish Packing Company of Oregon building and strolled west along the Riverwalk, which marks the liminal boundary between Astoria's past as a seafood processing center and present as a sightseer's paradise.
The ship came into view as soon as we cleared the visual blight of the ghastly Columbia House Condominiums. Frank was the first to spot her name: El Primero.
Those magic words, which mean "The First" in Spanish, opened an unexpected portal to the opulence of the Gilded Age and the history of shipbuilding.
You see, the ship that has been living a vagabond's life on Astoria's waterfront, denied the comfort and security of a berth, is none other than "the first steam yacht built on the west coast of the United States," built for "Edward W. Hopkins, heir to the wealth of his uncle, Mark Hopkins, for whom the Mark Hopkins Hotel is named." In its day, El Primero was "considered one of the most luxurious yachts" on the Pacific coast.
The name Hopkins is to the West Coast what Vanderbilt and Morgan are on the East Coast. They are synonymous with the vast wealth, power, accomplishments and opulent life that characterized America's elite at the end of the 19th century.
You can read about the vessel's history and specifications on Wikepedia at en.wikipedia.org/wiki/El_Primero It's worth your time.
Sixteen historic photos of the ship taken over the years can be found here after the blurb about the vessel:
classicyacht.org/boats/el-primero
In this space I want to focus on the ship's most recent history, as told by a reporter for the Astorian in 2019 on the occasion of El Primero's first visit to Astoria in 113 years.
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At Pier 39, the second coming of El Primero
An old yacht returns to Astoria
By Lucy Kleiner, The Astorian Aug 29, 2019
With the smell of fish wafting from the kitchen and the sound of sea lions barking in the distance, a walk down historic Pier 39 is timeless. But nothing takes visitors back like the maritime oddity anchored nearby.
For the first time in 113 years, El Primero has returned to Astoria. The 137-foot ship’s white paint and rustic wood stretches alongside the pier, and its long, narrow shape attracts the eyes of locals and tourists alike. Last time the yacht crossed the bar, it was 1906.
The El Primero, one of the oldest luxury yachts still sailing today, returned to the mouth of the Columbia River earlier this month.
The yacht was built in San Francisco in 1893 by Union Iron Works. The original construction cost just under $250,000. After inflation, that is roughly $7 million today.
But the investment paid off.
“This boat is one of the most important remaining yachts in the world,” said Capt. Christian Lint, who owns the El Primero and the Astoria Ferry. “It exemplifies the transition of sail to steam and of wood to steel.”
In 1906, El Primero passed through Astoria on its way north toward Seattle. The ship remained in Washington’s waters for more than a hundred years, docked most recently in Blaine, until Lint caught a glimpse of it 10 years ago.
“I saw under the tarps, this rustic, beautiful long hull,” he said. “The lines of the boat are absolutely spectacular. The design of the boat is phenomenal. The structure is, to this day, a lost art.”
The sight grabbed Lint’s attention. He tracked down the estate owner and volunteered to help get the boat running for the sake of history. Less than a week after Lint began work, he said, El Primero was gliding through the water again for the first time in a decade.
Shortly after his first ride, Lint bought the yacht and set his eyes on navigating El Primero south.
“It went north in 1906 and never returned,” he said. “Now, it’s on its return trip home to San Francisco.”
The boat’s steam engine has been converted, and now a twin-engine diesel fuels El Primero.Lint has dreams of making the ship a bit “greener,” with solar sails and batteries.
The yacht moves through the sea with ease, and has no wake until 14.5 knots, according to Lint.
“It was made to marry with the sea,” he said.
Steamboat
Initially a steam powered ship, the boat was converted to run on diesel.
Hailey Hoffman/The Astorian
The polished floors and extravagant light fixtures of El Primero apparently hosted a number of historic guests, including four U.S. presidents — Teddy Roosevelt, William Howard Taft, Warren Harding and Herbert Hoover. Other celebrity guests include Babe Ruth and William Randolph Hearst, according to a small sign displayed at the pier.
With an extended sun deck, wooden fireplace and two antique bathtubs on board, the inside of the yacht is as marvelous and historic as its exterior.
“It’s a palace afloat,” Lint said.
Lint hoped to organize tours of El Primero during his time docked in Astoria, but he said he was denied local dock space. The ship is now anchored a few dozen feet away from the edge of the pier.
“I love that it looks so rustic,” Sonia Hansen, who pulled over on the pier to take a photo of the yacht, said. “Nowadays, it’s hard to find things that are preserved like that.”
“It’s still on the water,” Lynne Aspin, a tourist who had made the trip up from Cannon Beach, said. “That’s amazing.”
Tourists like Hansen and Aspin may have a few more months to gawk at the oddity. Lint is not sure when he’ll head back out to the Pacific, so El Primero may stay in Astoria through the winter.
Eventually, the captain plans to guide the ship under San Francisco’s landmark bridge, but, according to Lint, the Golden Gate may not be El Primero’s final destination.
“I’d like to take it around the world.”
www.dailyastorian.com/news/local/at-pier-39-the-second-co...
Two years have passed and El Primero is still here. She desperately needs a safe forever home, preferably at maritime museum. Someone is still taking pains to maintain the brightwork, which is what the varnished wood on the exterior is called. It is a monumental task, but it is likely minor in comparison with maintaining this antique ship's metal hull and many systems.
Keep your fingers crossed.
Nash Metropolitan, with the front clip and driver's door removed, stored behind the barn on the north side of the yard. Lime, red and warm-white light, via the the Protomachines flashlight.
Gardening has always been a bittersweet activity for me. There's a wonderful sense of hope and optimism setting the plants into the earth in late spring. Feeling the soil in my hands and realizing that winter is truly over and an entire summer lies ahead. I nurture the little seedlings and look after them daily as they grow and eventually mature. Hopefully supplying a bountiful harvest. But even that at times seems secondary to the process of having a garden and tending to it. Very much a Zen experience for me. But suddenly and all too soon (about two and a half months in these parts) the garden slips into decline. Tomato and cucumber leaves wilt and yellow. The once lush plants begin to look thin and leggy. And eventually the plants simply stop producing crops. Inevitably I have to go in and pull up the plants and I always hate that part. All these thoughts and more crossed my mind when I came across this little garden last weekend. One look at the tomato vines and I knew the end was near. I went back today to check on their condition, but there was nothing left. Only the empty planters remained.