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Bond... James Bond...
In case it wasn't already apparent, I'm going to start to make some James Bond things. It won't be TOO long until I start to post them but with the end of year tests and the parts that I need it may be the beginning of June. I might create a few villains for these builds, too. On a side, note because of those tests I may not be very active this week. I can't wait to get them over with! Tell me what you think and if you're looking forward to it!
Bob Jordan photo
A UP excursion, headed by 8444, is seen arriving in Denver during June of 1976.
Denver, CO
June 1976
Train of the Day
6/21/19
Cold has reached our little town again. Wheater is cool both ways. It feels great! Unfortunatelly grey days came along too. xx
“Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future.
You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.”
Steve Jobs
February 24, 1955 – October 5, 2011
Link BSSR-House
www.flickr.com/photos/55176801@N02/sets/72157625373026635/
A Showcase of Minimal Workstations to Inspire You
webdesignledger.com/inspiration/a-showcase-of-minimal-wor...
A BN freight is entering the east end of Clyde yard. Our vantage point is from the BRC overpass in January 1991.
nach einem Abend auf der Wahl zur Maikönigin des Selig München. Anschliessend noch im Prosecco München.
Location: Nationaal Park De Loonse en Drunense Duinen, The Netherlands
Date taken: September 13, 2018
Camera: Canon EOS 650D with Magic Lantern for focus stacking
Lens: SIGMA 105mm F2.8 EX DG OS HSM Macro
Coming Storm. Watch Hill Lighthouse. Pentax K10D, Tripod, SMC-DA* 16-50mm f/2.8 lens, ND .6 grad, C-PL, 2.5s at F/13, ISO100.
Our living room, awaiting the arrival of friends and family. If any of my Flickr friends are ever in Sonora, let me know. I'd love to see you.
There used to be several more stockings on the mantle, but the kids have taken them with them as they've moved on.
Can you find the ornament posted yesterday on the tree? (Hint: Check the note.)
Just a leaf and some mushrooms. What do you think about this capture? Let me know about it and leave a comment below! Thank you folks!
Another frame of D13 from a few weeks ago. I liked this nose on shot so figured I'd upload it. Here is the same caption from the earlier posts:
While waiting for CP 252 at the Hudson River I could hear the D13 local talking on the radio and then heard them blow for crossings as they left town. D13 is a Whitehall based local and they had come down the Canadian main to Fort Edward to work the 5.5 mile long Glens Falls Industrial Track that winds northwest following the Hudson River to that small city that gives the line its name.
This is a classic old school class 1 branchline which is probably my favorite subject to shoot. The D&H's predecessor Rensselaer a s Saratoga Railway arrived in Glens Falls in 1869 and extended the line nine more miles to Lake George in 1882 (the R&S having been leased by the D&H in 1871). During the grand resort era this primarily passenger route thrived, but as tastes changed in the early part of the 20th century passengers tapered off. The freight business of the D&H at Lake George had dwindled so totally that by the early 1950s only about 120 cars a year were handled. Of this total, about 40 cars or so was origin lumber traffic from a smattering of local lumber mills. Passenger service ended to Lake George in November, 1957, and freight service followed in March, 1958.
The rails were lifted shortly thereafter but the corridor remains to this day as a popular trail. Meanwhile the original lower end of the branch has persevered anchored by Finch Paper and Lehigh Cement along with the smaller Pregis all in Glens Falls and Irving Tissue in Fort Edward. CP continues to serve these customers three times a week and I was just lucky to be in the right place at the right time. Here is CP 2252 an EMD GP20C-ECO trundling back toward Fort Edward as they roll thru the curve approaching Sumpter Street at MP 57.8. The old buildings up in town can be seen above including the tower atop the First Babtist Church in the upper right. Not visible blocked by the train is the still extant but heavily modified former D&H depot.
Hudson Falls, New York
Friday September 18, 2020
A flight of Canada Geese coming into land on the Moat at Dunham Park. They always herald their arrival making heads turn, you always hear them before you see them.
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Theme: "A Letter from the Alphabet"
I have two little cousins that love to hear me telling them horror stories. The last time they visited, I invented this story, which I quite liked, so I decided to write it down and make this photo.
It was also really fun taking this shot. We actually went in some woods near midnight with a candle and a girl wrapped in a blanket. People should have thought all kinds of stuff!
Thank you so much for being such a weirdo with me, Giovanna!
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England, 1863. It was a late winter night. The cold wind blew through the large stone corridors of the Brocklehurst mansion. Not much could be seen, once several of the candles responsible for lightning the place were already dead. The brightest place in the whole house was the west-wing living room, inhabited by two siblings sitting by the fireplace, each one involved by a thick, brown blanket. Annabelle and Jonah were completely by themselves. Even though the family once was very influent and rich in the town, it all ended when their mother mysteriously passed away. Her body was found in the woods surrounding the house, with no apparent wound or signs of struggle. Her health was perfect and some sudden illness was very unlikely. Some would say her soul was taken by the dark spirits of the forest, as told by an old legend a lot of people refused to believe.
Since her death, the Lord Brocklehurst lost all his will to live. The businesses ran by generations in the family slowly decayed to almost inexistent levels. The mansion, once always brilliant and filled with maids, servants and delightful balls for the aristocracy, was now completely abandoned and infested with spiders, rats and dust. Some would say the Lord even lost his savvy. It was common enough to him to depart with no warning, leaving his children behind.
“I wonder when dad will come back this time.” Annabelle said to the air, clearly not paying attention anymore to the book her brother was reading for her. Jonah stopped, looked at the girl for a few seconds and closed the book soundly, making a cloud of dust rise from it.
“Don’t wait up too cheerfully.” he said, standing up and leading himself to the opposite side of the big room to give the book back to an immense bookcase filled with stories and tales, when the sharp scream of a girl made him drop it, as darkness engulfed everything.
“Calm down, Ann! What happened?!” said the tall young man, half-closing his eyes trying to adapt to the murk.
“The fireplace… It… It just went off out of nowhere!” she answered, with little sobs in her voice. The boy then found his way back to her side, making her skip a heartbeat when he hugged her. After calming Annabelle down, Jonah went to the next room and took a few half used candles.
“I’m sure it was just a wind gust.”
“It was not!” she answered, still with a trembling voice. “I was right here, I didn’t feel anything! It just… I think I saw something red in the fire and then it extinguished.” A chill went through her spine.
“Don’t be silly. Here, look.” He pointed to the fireplace. “The firewood just withered. We need some more.”
“But we ran out of it, brother… These were the last ones. It should have endured through the night…”
“Then… I’ll get more in the woods.”
A deep silence took place. Even though the stories were hard to believe, they didn’t enjoyed going in there, especially after their mother incident. But there was no option. They would definitely freeze without any fire.
“You stay here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He kissed Annabelle’s forehead, messed her hair, took the lamp and left the room. She heard him getting the axe, opening the huge front door and closing it.
Except for her own breathing and some whispers of the wind, the silence was absolute. She waited there, wrapped in the blanket, staring the nothingness.
(…)
The clock ticked for way too long. Something was definitely wrong. She was really scared, yes, but it scared her even more to lose the only one she had left. The last one who cared for her. Some of the wolves in the woods could have attacked him, even though it wasn’t common for them to come close to the house. She took the blanket, put the candle in a white porcelain saucer and left.
It was a full moon, but the clouds covered it almost completely. The leafless, lifeless trees danced conducted by the wind - a macabre corpse dance. The branches cracking with the movement created the eeriest symphony. Annabelle took a deep breath, swallowed the fear and went down the stairs which leaded to the wood’s entrance. Walking carefully amongst the branches laying in the ground, she started to look for her beloved brother. She couldn’t scream or make too much noise, because that could call the wolves’ attention. So the girl continued going deeper in the forest, with her path lightened by a simple candle, whispering Jonah’s name. She walked and walked with no sign of him. Then, a scream echoed in the woods. Annabelle froze, and so did the wind. It stopped completely, putting an end to the orchestra it leaded. She then realized she was way deeper inside the woods than any sane person would be. The trees were so dense she couldn’t even see the dim moon’s light hiding behind the clouds. All the available light was coming from the candle.
Then, with her ear now left in peace, she began to hear, far away, a gentle low voice calling for her.
“Annabelle…”
The girl ignored at first, but the calling was then repeated, a little louder. She recognized it coming from the southwest and began following it. As she went closer and closer to the source of her brother’s voice, it got louder, although it still was a whisper. Walking a little faster as she thought she would finally rendezvous, a glade revealed itself.
“Anabelle…”
She heard from the other side of it. Walking cautiously, she kept following the voice.
“Annabelle…”
When the girl reached the center, a weird feeling made her stop. She felt someone right behind her. She could feel its presence… Its heat. The hot breath right on her neck.
“ANNABELLE.”
It was no longer her brother’s voice. It was a scratchy, cold and rough voice, the mix of an old man in his deathbed with the growl of a dreadful monster. She screamed and began to run desperately, leaving behind the blanket right where the thing talked to her. The girl didn’t look back; there was no need to see whatever it was that was there. And this way she continued, running as fast as she could, crying and protecting the light – her guide.
After running for what she thought being a few miles, Annabelle found herself in another glade. As the weak light revealed the path in front of her, she saw something. It looked like Jonah lying in the ground. Desperately, she ran to it and when tried to hug it, the girl realized it was just a blanket. Her own blanket. The same one she left exactly there in her first escape. “I had ran in circles… Stupid tricky forest!”, she thought. Then she continued walking, determined to leave that dark hell and ask for help finding Jonah. She walked into miles, feeling devastated and confused, when another glade was found. The same nightmare was repeated. Again, she was in the same place, even though she walked a straight path. Nearly exhausted, she couldn’t give up… Not yet...
She ran.
(…)
For the third time, there she was again. The same glade. Annabelle picked up the blanket, wrapped herself inside it, sat down and started to cry.
“It will be alright…” she tried to comfort herself. “I’ll just wait here until dawn comes… Then I’ll find my way back.” She thought of her brother. Would he be trapped just like she was? Maybe he just couldn’t find his way back. Yes, they would find each other again. They would be together again. They would.
She stayed there waiting for the time pass by. Obviously, she couldn’t sleep – her nerves wouldn’t allow her. So, with a low, faint voice, she began to hum the song her mother used to sing to her in stormy nights. Her heart was calmed. She felt like her mother was there for her.
Suddenly, a bell rang far away, making Annabelle goggle her eyes on its direction. Eleven times that bell was ringed. It was the town’s old clock, telling everyone that the eleventh hour has come.
“Just a few more hours… Everything will be fine.” she thought.
A cold, lonely and singing hour later, the clock once again made its announcement. The girl counted the bangs.
Midnight had come.
Together with the twelfth strike, hundreds of crows flew from the woods in a skyward direction, creating a terribly loud noise that made her hide inside her blanket. Breathing fast, heart pounding in her throat, all she could think about for comfort was her brother’s face. She would find him. All would just become a terrible night dark. She prayed.
When everything became quiet again, she slowly began to uncover her eyes. Lifting the blanket, she discovered a pair of blood colored spheres staring at her. Her heart stopped. A death cold breath invaded the blanket, freezing her spine.
“ANNABELLE!”
Darkness.
To this very day, these woods are haunted. No one dares to enter the place. It is said that every full moon, exactly at midnight, it’s possible to hear a lonely lullaby coming from the woods. If it’s dark enough, a wandering dim candle light, held by the poor Annabelle, can also be seen.
Jonah found his way back into the mansion that night, finding it empty. Nothing had happened to him. He came back in a few minutes, just like he said he would.
The young man and the entire town searched for Annabelle, but she or her body were never found. She is still trapped there, for all eternity, looking for him, aided only by a candle. The clock she hears every hour always tell that the midnight has come. And it will never go away.