View allAll Photos Tagged Calloused
no hdr here...The spray is impressive and one of the most beautiful aspects of the falls at night....you can see the Canadian falls in the mist at the top with the reddish color on it from the lights. Niagra had as much water flow this time as I have ever seen...just immense.
Standing on the Precipice (JHWatkins)
Standing on the precipice-
balanced at junctions,
space and time-
there are no excuses here
no explanations or rhymes.
Locked in lavish rhythm
far beyond the brink-
hid from help or rescue-
on jagged edge distinct.
Weighty voices-
tomorrows bearing-
form forces by the day...
Wound tight
in folds of failure-
by faltering historic foray.
Naked standing truth-
whirl winded and filleted-
open now -
body bleeding-
clean by choice-
ruthless rights parlayed.
Ring round the
restless righteous-
tormented tongues
twisted and advanced.
Weapons trained-
fitting filled-
hopelessness entranced.
New toys
for large little boys-
clicking clocks
in finest fashion.
Positioned perspective-
poisoned possessive power-
from places unimagined.
Whining women-
worn-out white wheezers-
talking days on end-
endless hours
of wasted words-
useless air-
precious spent.
Children torn
apart at seams-
families drugged
and drenched...
Callous toned
nightmares
running wild-
seeds scattered
in the wind.
Lost by generation's
darkened doubt-
aflame
the fearless world-
tossed aside by
hellish schemes-
now rampant-
flags unfurled.
Gone the green
and yearning years-
foundations
fairly laid-
of priceless pearl
in wisdom grown,
crown jewelry
on parade.
But new
the turning earth begins-
choice
once again delayed.
Come cold and calm
courageous men-
run boldly
to your fate.
And stand in
earnest errand bare,
an era
at the end-
now bind yourselves
betrothed and braced-
to finish
without fear. (James watkins 2004)
Love the trees the flowers and fruits
Love all beings on the Earth as ourselves
What I inhale is your exhale
What is part of world, is part of us
The first breath of a new born life
Is the last breath of another life
With none to hate, not even foes
Who do ill to embitter our woes
But do them good in return
So as to make them ponder
Over their callousness and render
Thus our help to chasten their minds
- Anuj Nair
---------------------------------------------------
Dedicated to my dear friend Steve
www.flickr.com/photos/komotini49/
Flower : Cape Honeysuckle ( Tecomaria capensis )
------------------------------------------------------
© 2009 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.
-------------------------------------------------------
________________________________________________
© 2009 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.
All images and poems are the property of Anuj Nair.
Using these images and poems without permission is in violation of international copyright laws (633/41 DPR19/78-Disg 154/97-L.248/2000). All materials may not be copied, reproduced, distributed, republished, downloaded, displayed, posted or transmitted in any forms or by any means,including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording without written permission of Anuj Nair. Every violation will be pursued penally.
Every season has its own glory (James Watkins)
Every season has its own glory,
Every purpose has its own time,
Every moment has its own story,
Every story has its own line.
I have walked deep into cities,
Shining brightly never to fail,
Listened to heart cries,
Lost in the morning,
Standing on corners
Stagnant and stale.
Where is the hope
That brought forth the laughter?
Where is the song?
The music unveiled?
Why are the choices so
Wasted and bitter?
Gathered in hatred,
Broken and pale.
There are the voices lost in confusion,
Crushed in the thriving, deepening swale-
Calloused and cold the circling convenience,
Crippled commotion emotions prevail
Severed connections, squandered projections-
Revered reflections, stammering tongues-
Coined by controlling contriving convections,
In different directions now written in stone.
I have seen new stars on the mountains,
Fed on the movement of heaven and earth-
Filled up by frameworks
In perfect perspective,
Fueled by the turning of terrible truth.
Come now and sing of mists in the forest,
Sensual sonnets of songs in the dirt-
Come and behold the delicate balance
Of seasons and reasons and rhythms
And birth.
Beacons of quiet in last true performance,
Heralded nature in singular cause-
Ancient and pure dreams
Shattered and twisted
Arrayed in transitional
Smoldering awe.
Now is the time to look to the heavens,
Now is the moment to take up the cause,
Now is the voice of blazing amazement,
Borne on the winds of the gathering storm.
Listen to stream, listen to forest,
Listen to flower, and staggering fawn-
Listen to voices rolling like thunder,
Drink of the waters
And dance with the dawn.
Wrapped in the garments of natural beauty,
Facing the force of burgeoning call-
Strong in the seasons of life and creation,
Firm on foundations that will never fall.
James Watkins 09-01-08
Prince on the Oldies station: Kiss
www.youtube.com/watch?v=H9tEvfIsDyo
You don't have to be beautiful to turn me on
Ethan: (working on his motorcycle in his garage, pretends he doesn't realize Emmilynn is sneaking up behind him, so he doesn't freak out when she suddenly covers his eyes with her hands) What the --
Emmi: Surprise! Guess who!
Ethan: I'd know those calloused hands anywhere -- Boyd.
Emmi: My hands aren't calloused. I moisturize.
Ethan: Oh, I'm so sorry. Forgive me, Stefan.
Emmi: (giggles and uncovers his eyes) Okay, I've met Boyd, but now I'm dying to meet Stefan.
Prince on the Oldies station: You don't have to be rich to be my girl - You don't have to be cool to rule my world
Ethan: Oh, Em' it's YOU. What a surprise. I didn't expect to see you this early.
Emmi: (giving him a little push) Knock it off. I don't know how you knew I was sneaking in here, but you knew.
Ethan: Everyone else I know either smells like booze or gasoline and oil. Sometimes a combination. You smell like a spring garden, right after a light rain.
Emmi: (smiling) Just for that, I forgive you for the calloused hands remark. (she bends and gives him a light kiss on the lips)
Prince on the Oldies station: Ain't no particular sign I'm more compatible with - I just want your extra time and your kiss
Ethan: Come to think of it, Stefan always smells nice too.
Emmi: Speaking of odors, will you have time to wash off a little of the man-musk after you finish doing whatever it is you're doing to your bike, and still have time to take me dinner?
Ethan: Man-musk?
Emmi: You smell like you went ten rounds with a gorilla -- and the gorilla was a garage mechanic.
Ethan: (laughs) Actually, I just finished so, yes, I will have time to de-gorilla. (stands)
Emmi: Where are you taking me, anyway? You were so mysterious about it, on the phone.
Prince on the Oldies station: Yes, oh, I think I wanna dance, uh - Gotta, gotta, oh
Ethan: Don't you know what day it is?
Emmi: Monday?
Ethan: Come on, you green up in Village Green. You MUST know what day it is.
Emmi: (her brow wrinkles) I think I'm going to need a hint.
Ethan: It's May...
Emmi: Uh huh.
Ethan: It's the first sunny day...
Emmi: Spring clean-- Oh, NO! (interrupts herself, eyes going wide)
Ethan: (grinning) It's --
Ethan/Emmi: Training Day!
Emmi: Ethan Dane, don't tell me you're one of those terrible people who converge on the summer businesses to make life hell for the new trainees.
Prince on the Oldies station: You just leave it all up to me, my love will be your food
Ethan: (grinning) Not hell, maybe purgatory.
Emmi: I have NEVER participated in that shady little tradition.
Ethan: Shady? Come on, Emmi, it's our civic duty to ensure the summer businesses have employees who can handle the tourists.
Emmi: By making them miserable?
Ethan: By giving them life experience.
Emmi: None of you just go in to have a meal, or rent a board, or whatever. You intentionally create drama and give them a hard time.
Ethan: No one does anything that hasn't been documented as actually having been done by a tourist.
Emmi: (dubious) I've heard some of those stories are exaggerated.
Ethan: Embellished, maybe. A little. Come on, Emmi, it's tradition. The trainees would be crushed if we didn't turn out. This is community support, here.
Emmi: Well -- I'll go.
Prince on the Oldies station: You don't have to be rich to be my girl - You don't have to be cool to rule my world
Ethan: Yes!
Emmi: But only to show them what a perfectly normal person acts like.
Ethan: If you say so. (kisses her cheek) Back in a minute. (exits the garage)
Emmi: Take two and wash behind your ears! (calls after him, shaking her head) Training Day.
Prince on the Oldies station: Ain't no particular sign I'm compatible with! - I just want your extra time and your kiss
(Thank you to Seth for playing Ethan Dane.)
Wish you all a happy and healthy 2021. May all your dreams come true and your girlfriends or wives fulfill your foot fetish joy and let you admire, sniff, lick and do whatever you want with their feet as long as it doesn't hurt anybody.
Ahhh... and don't forget to share a lot of pictures to our community ;-)
"The indifference, callousness, and contempt that so many people exhibit toward animals is evil first because it results in great suffering towards animals, and second because it results in an incalculably great impoverishment of human spirit ".
—Ashley Montagu
It is the story of the man who sold the world, and to exchange with one seed and one oxygen bubbles, then settle on the moon. he was saddened to see the destruction of the earth.
____________________________________________
____________________________________________
WORLD - Written by Harriet Cleve
This world can not be saved
not from us
not from the murderers
not from the writers or poets
nor the political promise of the buried dead
it must suffer at our hand
our cowardly calloused hand
the gibbet of history looming large
we, the scaffold in it's treacherous shadow
this world can not be saved
not from us
not from the proliferation of the atom
not from the genius of a Nobel mind
nor the terror of a hungry belly
it must suffer at our disgression
at a choosing of our time
it is not safe
from the madman or the sane man
who share a common lodging
nor will it find shelter in its own harbours
refuge in its oceans
oxygen in its air
it is not safe
not from us
it must bear the weight of our footprint
it must suffer the wounds of destruction
the infrastructure of abhorrence
it is not safe for the lungs of life
it can not breathe our poisoned fumes
it must suffer in our orbit
perish in our banality
clothed in ill fitting rags of indifference
this world can not be saved
it is not safe
Not from us
from : hellopoetry.com
best large...I wanted to update this picture with my new software and believe it has made it better. This is an early fall picture of a river between Knoxville and Nashville, Tn...a nice trout stream, too. Quiet and beautiful place!
FOR THOSE INTERESTED I HAVE AN EXHIBITION AT THIS LINK <a href=" www.flickr.com/groups/inspiringcollection/discuss/7215762... .
Every season has its own glory (James Watkins)
Every season has its own glory,
Every purpose has its own time,
Every moment has its own story,
Every story has its own line.
I have walked deep into cities,
Shining brightly never to fail,
Listened to heart cries,
Lost in the morning,
Standing on corners
Stagnant and stale.
Where is the hope
That brought forth the laughter?
Where is the song?
The music unveiled?
Why are the choices so
Wasted and bitter?
Gathered in hatred,
Broken and pale.
I have seen (new) stars on the mountains,
Fed on the movement of heaven and earth-
Fired up frameworks
Of perfect perspective,
Fueled by the turning of terrible truth.
Come now and sing of mists in the forest,
Sensual sonnets of songs in the dirt-
Come and behold the delicate balance
Of seasons and reasons and rhythms
And birth.
There are the voices lost in confusion,
Crushed in the thriving, deepening swale-
Calloused and cold the circling convenience,
Crippled commotion emotions prevail.
Beacons of quiet in last true performance,
Heralded nature in singular cause-
Perfect and pure
Though wasted and slandered.
Washed by confessional
Smoldering awe.
Severed connections, squandered projections-
Revered reflections, stammering tongues-
Coined by controlling contriving convections,
In different directions now written in stone.
Now is the time to look to the heavens,
Now is the moment to take up the cause,
Now is the voice of blazing amazement,
Borne on the winds of the gathering storm.
Listen to stream, listen to forest,
Listen to flower, and staggering fawn-
Listen to voices rolling like thunder,
Drink of the waters
And dance with the dawn.
Wrapped in the garments of natural beauty,
Facing the force of burgeoning call-
Strong in the seasons of life and creation,
Firm on foundations that never will fall.
James Watkins 09-01-08
Duke Monroe lived on a quiet country lane, once used by college boys as a race track.
After 25 years of towing college boys' wrecked toys to the old Redrum Ranch, Duke decided to retire. He sold all the remaining cars and engines and other parts to Clem and Floyd, whose latest get rich quick scheme was to start a mail order car parts business. Like Clem always said, "Parts is parts." Anyway, that gave old Duke enough cash to think about retirement in someplace with kinder winters.
Duke called his cousin, Pat Haney to find a buyer for the ranch. Duke was flashing his farmer tan on a beach in Florida when the news came, a couple from NYC had bought the place and wanted to start farming there.
Duke chuckled when he thought about some city slicker lawyer getting his hands all calloused and dirty. Then, he turned his gaze back to the sun, setting on the ocean horizon and took a sip of some rum drink served in a coconut with a tiny one24thscale umbrella.
This is a forced perspective photograph of 1/24 scale and 1/16 scale die-cast and plastic model vehicles and 1/24 scale model structures against a real background.
Franklin Mint 1961 Lincoln Continental Convertible
Ertl 1/16 scale Fordson tractor with heavy modification to the grill/radiator
The truck is by AMT
The pig is by Schleich
Without dark clouds in our lives, we would never know the joy of sunshine. We can become callous and unteachable if we do not learn from pain.
Billy Graham
A present from us to all ya quarantine wankers ;-p
She was bored and asked me to surprise her with fun stuff... well, she got what she asked for.
Drenched her rough soles from wearing her wooden dr. scholl's clogs around the house the whole day.
Still need someone to spray her left sole as well - any takers?
Any ladies want to lick it clean?
yeah, it's trite and probably the most photographed rose window in the world but the colors are still magnetic for me. I didn't even set the resolution to high nor did I even try to present anything new to the countless images EXACTLY just like this but for me, this religious art is still unforgivably stunning.
from www.elore.com/Gothic/Features/Paris/north_rose.htm:
The magnificent roses of the transepts at Notre Dame date to 1250-60. Unlike most of the glass in Paris, and much of France, these two contain nearly all of their original elements. The ravages of time and war destroyed a majority of the great glass works of the Middle Ages, though human arrogance also took its toll. By the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the distaste for Medieval styles was prevalent across Europe. In efforts to modernize the churches and cathedrals, windows were callously smashed out and replaced with a lightly tinted glass called grisaille. In the nineteenth century some of these works were restored. Sadly, there no longer existed an extant tradition which supported the same degree of craft evident in such masterpieces as the roses of Notre Dame de Paris and Chartres.
the Notre Dame, Paris, France
telling the tale of two Notre Dame cathedrals is in colloidfarl.blogspot.com/
There are times to use discretion when saturating colors...autumn is not it :}
Every Season Has Its Own Glory (James Watkins) not hdr
Every season has its own glory,
Every purpose has its own time,
Every moment has its own story,
Every story has its own line.
I have walked deep into cities,
Shining brightly never to fail,
Listened to heart cries,
Lost in the morning,
Standing on corners
Stagnant and stale.
Where is the hope
That brought forth the laughter?
Where is the song?
The music unveiled?
Why are the choices so
Wasted and bitter?
Gathered in hatred,
Broken and pale.
I have seen (new) stars on the mountains,
Fed on the movement of heaven and earth-
Fired by the framework
Of perfect perspective,
Fueled by the turning of terrible truth.
Come now and sing of mists in the forest,
Sensual sonnets of songs in the dirt-
Come and behold the delicate balance
Of seasons and reasons and rhythms
And birth.
There are the voices lost in confusion,
Crushed in the thriving, deepening swale-
Calloused and cold the circling convenience,
Crippled commotion emotions prevail.
Beacons in quiet of last true performance,
Heralded nature in singular cause-
Perfect and pure
Though wasted and slandered.
Washed by confession
In smoldering awe.
Severed connections, squandered projections-
Revered reflections by stammering tongues-
Coined by controlling contriving convections,
In different directions now written in stone.
Now is the time to look to the heavens,
Now is the moment to take up the cause,
Now is the voice of blazing amazement,
Borne on the winds of the gathering storm.
Listen to stream, listen to forest,
Listen to flower, and staggering fawn-
Listen to voices rolling like thunder,
Come drink of the waters
And dance with the dawn.
Wrapped in the garments of natural beauty,
Facing the force of the burgeoning call-
Strong in the seasons of life and creation,
Firm on foundations that never will fall.
James Watkins 09-01-08
夏日将至（明明还早哈哈）
▪Hair：ZAO Callous Hair - Mainstore
▪Top：ARCHIVEFACTION_BI,NLR. GACHA_Sk8 Long Sleeve - Mainstore
▪Cat Ear：[JIUJIANWU&.SAN3.]Cat ear - Mainstore
▪Earring：= DAE = cross chain evo earring pack - Mainstore
▪Mask：= DAE = Sx192 mask set - TWS
▪Necklace：[Dope+Mercy] EXIST Necklace B - Mainstore
"l've seen how people have allowed their humanity to drain away. Only it happened slowly instead of all at once.They didn't seem to mind. All of us a little bit we harden our hearts, grow callous. Only when we have to fight to stay human do we realize how precious it is to us."
AKA fascism.
from "Invasion of the Body Snatcher" (movie 1956)
The common warthog is the only pig species that has adapted to grazing and savanna habitats. Its diet is omnivorous, composed of grasses, roots, berries and other fruits, bark, fungi, insects, eggs and carrion. The diet is seasonably variable, depending on availability of different food items. During the wet seasons, warthogs graze on short perennial grasses. During the dry seasons, they subsist on bulbs, rhizomes, and nutritious roots. Warthogs are powerful diggers, using both their snouts and feet. Whilst feeding, they often bend their front feet backwards and move around on the wrists. Calloused pads that protect the wrists during such movement form quite early in the development of the fetus. Although they can dig their own burrows, they commonly occupy abandoned burrows of aardvarks and other animals. The common warthog commonly reverses into burrows, with its head facing the opening and ready to burst out if necessary. Common warthogs will wallow in mud to cope with high temperatures and huddle together to cope with low temperatures.
Common warthogs are not territorial, but instead occupy a home range. Common warthogs live in groups called sounders. Females live in sounders with their young and with other females. Females tend to stay in their natal groups, while males leave, but stay within the home range. Subadult males associate in bachelor groups, but live alone when they become adults.Adult males only join sounders with estrous females.
As of 1999, the common warthog population in southern Africa is estimated to be about 250,000. Typical densities range between one and 10 per km2 in protected areas, but local densities of 77 per km2 were found on short grass in Nakuru National Park. The species is susceptible to drought and hunting (especially with dogs), which may result in localized extinctions. The common warthog is present in numerous protected areas across its extensive range
The Crimson Lounge sits behind some ornate doors in the lobby of the Hotel Sax in Chicago. I was lucky enough to get a private tour of this beautiful and secret place. It would be callously gauche to call this a hotel bar, because it is so much more.
There are about a dozen little rooms, enclaves, and velvet-curtained grottos that make up a textured complex of rooms that are just waiting around for me to lounge in while drinking something with an absurd name.
I collected a variety of other shots from this little gem of a place that I will be sprinkling into the blog over the next few months and years...
from the blog at www.stuckincustoms.com
...somewhere in the Swiss mountains, in the middle of the icy cold winter. It was one of those days that will stay in my memory for a long time because the morning started with a little surprise for us. It snowed more than half a meter overnight. The morning was bitterly cold because the sky opened and the fog came. The mountain lake in the Bernese Alps is nestled in a hollow where the temperatures are even lower. When we arrived after a hike through the fresh snowy landscape, it was around -15 to -20 degrees. To my surprise, the lake wasn't completely frozen over at this point, which allowed me to photograph this beautiful reflection. But the cold quickly got to me and after a short time I could no longer feel my fingers, so my camera work suffered greatly. I tried to do my best to somehow capture this impressive morning mood. After that experience I tried to hike around the lake a bit and had to give up after a short time because I was the first to hike this way - or rather crawl - through the 1 meter deep snow and quickly reached my physical limits. It was so tiring for me that despite the cold, I was sweating and I could hardly breathe. So I decided to turn back very soon, because if something had happened to me out there in the deep snow, it would probably have been the end for me. All this happened on this amazing day in my beloved mountains and I realized to the new that winter can be so beautiful but also so bitterly cold...
Has the world become so callous and cold? I asked myself this recently because there is so much bad news. Yes, some of them are almost unbearable. They are full of hate, violence and destruction that I wonder what that is about and what happens next on our blue planet? I don't know and I actually don't want to know because I can't change it. But what I can change is my little world in which I live with my fellow human beings, my loved ones and with the unique nature with its magnificent and intelligent animals. Let us take care of the creatures and the wonderful nature and love life, which is so valuable despite all the sad events in the world.
We have learned to fly the air like birds and swim the sea like fish, but we have not learned the simple art of living together as brothers.
- Martin Luther King
Forgiveness is not always easy. At times, it feels more painful than the wound we suffered, to forgive the one that inflicted it. And yet, there is no peace without forgiveness.
- Marianne Williamson
I'm not really a fan of Madonna but I think this song fits somehow to my theme „Frozen world.“
Madonna - Frozen
WOW, what can I say... one of my best pictures so far.
This pictures got it all: toes, soles, heels, ankles, worn wooden slides. When I see this picture I don't know what to do first - sniff lick or spray ;-)
She'll be glad to know what you'll do first ;-p
Want to see more pictures of her modeling and shoeplaying with well worn wooden slides and clogs? You can find much more pictures in:
“No!” she shrieked. “NO! This cannot be happening. . . . It cannot . . . I refuse to accept it!”
“You didn’t realize this was coming?” said a high girlish voice, sounding callously amused, and Harry, moving slightly to his right, saw that Trelawney’s terrifying vision was nothing other than Professor Umbridge. “Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrow’s weather, you must surely have realized that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable you would be sacked?”
“You c-can’t!” howled Professor Trelawney, tears streaming down her face from behind her enormous lenses, “you c-can’t sack me! I’ve b-been here sixteen years! H-Hogwarts is m-my h-home!”
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Chapter 26
─────────────────────────────
Sorry for the delayed vignette. The last week was very busy again for me.
But you won’t have to wait long for the next one - I promise ;)
─────────────────────────────
If you haven’t seen the first four parts so far, please have a look at the albums of my predecessors.
1. Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone
created by Marcel
2. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
created by Markus
3. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
created by Kevin
4. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
created by Thorsten
You can also find all the vignettes in our flickr group.
Standing on the Precipice (JHWatkins)
Standing on the precipice-
balanced at junctions,
space and time-
there are no excuses here
no explanations or rhymes.
Locked in lavish rhythm
far beyond the brink-
hid from help or rescue-
on jagged edge distinct.
Weighty voices-
tomorrows bearing-
form forces by the day...
Wound tight
in folds of failure-
by faltering historic foray.
Naked standing truth-
whirl winded and filleted-
open now -
body bleeding-
clean by choice-
ruthless rights parlayed.
Ring round the
restless righteous-
tormented tongues
twisted and advanced.
Weapons trained-
fitting filled-
hopelessness entranced.
New toys
for large little boys-
clicking clocks
in finest fashion.
Positioned perspective-
poisoned possessive power-
from places unimagined.
Whining women-
worn-out white wheezers-
talking days on end-
endless hours
of wasted words-
useless air-
precious spent.
Children torn
apart at seams-
families drugged
and drenched...
Callous toned
nightmares
running wild-
seeds scattered
in the wind.
Lost a generation dark,
aflame the fearless world-
tossed aside by
hellish schemes-
now rampant-
flags unfurled.
Gone-by green
and yearning years-
foundations
fairly laid-
Priceless pearls
in wisdom grown,
crown jewelry
on parade.
But new
the turning earth begins-
choice
once again delayed.
Come cold and calm
courageous men-
run boldly
to your fate.
And stand in earnest errand bare,
an era at the end-
Bind up yourselves
betrothed and braced-
to finish
without fear.
(James Watkins 2004)
My second stranger wouldn't tell me his name but consented to be photographed, though not without suspicion.I talked with him in Spanish, shook his hand and thanked him, and it struck me how calloused and hard it felt from all the years of back breaking labor for the most menial of wages. The inequities of life become very obvious at such moments.
The job I have isn't exactly hard on the hands. The only callouses I have are from playing the guitar. Therefore it's quite satisfying when I have to do something truly dirty, for a change. Had to change the wheel on the car this evening (I forget why... but there was a good reason), so for once I have *man hands*!!! Feel the testosterone! :-)
...of course, I'm all clean and perfumed again now.
View it large, get your palmistry books out, and tell me I'm going to have a long and interesting life. ;-)
At Pallikaranai, Chennai
Visitors from the Far East (North east China and Japan). Still remember those news articles from 2011/12 about these guys as rare visitors. Numbers started increasing slowly and now the scene as in this link!! photos.google.com/share/AF1QipOvTwvy2tXmndy_py-jUcxlbQ9Hm... And when you realise that other birds like flamingoes and Fulvous whistling teals are also increasing in numbers, it does make one happy.
The ugly part is that all the above is despite the callousness that is shown towards this incredibly resilient wetland. The place where I've the pic of the birds duelling is very near where the city corporation dumps its waste (including plastic waste!!) and literally reeks of garbage. Can only wonder how great this place would be if only we were a bit more responsible!!
At a time when “shanks mare” was used rather more, and was more dependable than other forms of transport, we can be sure that Dr. Scholl’s devices and treatments were a Godsend? Mr. Cahill’s shop on Barronstrand Street in Waterford shows a fine array of products, but also shows a great series of buildings reflected therein.
+++ UPDATE +++
Argument raged (in our usual friendly fashion) as to the exact location of this shop on Barronstrand Street, Waterford. Input from our roving Waterford Correspondent in California, Paul O'Farrell, helped Niall McAuley in this regard. Meanwhile, there are more Dr. Scholl’s foot products in this shop window than you could shake a walking stick at. Only you'd never need a walking stick again with all of these “Foot Comfort Appliances”. Bunion reducer, anyone? Or could we interest you in a Toe Flex or a Zino Pad?
Photographer: A. H. Poole
Collection: Poole Photographic Collection, Waterford
Date: Wednesday, 1 October 1924
NLI Ref: POOLEWP 3218
You can also view this image, and many thousands of others, on the NLI’s catalogue at catalogue.nli.ie
South Luangwa, Zambia
Calloused pads on warthogs' wrists help protect them while they graze on bended forelegs.
Weary traveler, calloused and sore
Time and gravity followed you here
Rest, my brother, and tell me
All about the ocean
Spoils and troubles and burdens you've bore
Pay them no mind, they matter no more
Leave them behind and show me
All about the ocean
~Puscifer, song Oceans
You can see my work featured on Photography Blogger: www.photographyblogger.net/20-enchanting-photos-from-heat...
There is no stopping nature, even if it is a monoculture of Kentucky Bluegrass.
I suspect this is a displaced and discarded bit of old infrastructure dug up and abandoned at the side of a road which was being paved for the first time several months ago. You'd think the DPW would not be so callous. But it gave me a delicious juxtaposition to capture.
May 22, 2011.
Thank you so much Erin for the testimonial <3
I am teaching myself how to be content, how to accept things, how to stop feeling that sense of dissatisfaction. It's a little like learning to walk when you're a child, that feeling of stumbling at first, and then holding your breath as you try not to fall. And when you do fall, you simply pick yourself up again, and keep going.
Contentment is the true key to being happy, and while I have ambitions, I am not going to let them overpower the solitary flame of empathy that fights to keep burning within my heart. I would sooner be struggling to pay my bills and stop to give someone who needs help, a little bit of money; than to be riding around in a luxury car, and watch out the window dispassionately at the homeless in the rain.
Because I am scared some day I will end up emotionless. Numb, hard-hearted, callous, unable to feel from somebody else's perspective. Jaded and cynical about all the beautiful things in life. The kind of person who is merely interested in only gains and nothing else. The kind of person who feels too little, or feels nothing at all.
Doesn't it scare you? Waking up one day and being unable to feel any form of emotions at all? Numbness is not the answer to everything. Numbness will not take the pain away, it merely dulls it, but the pain is still there. Until you lose it, you'll never love it for what it's worth. Be content that today you could feel happiness, sorrow, anger, and all the emotions you've ever felt in your life. Because emotions don't last forever.
Come on America, we're all counting on you to do the right thing. Vote like your democracy - and your lives - depend on it because they do! Please, PLEASE vote that vile and dangerous orange toxic waste of a President OUT of the White House!
I have to hope - in my heart of hearts - that there are enough good people to make the right, honourable, and morally better choice and say no to four more years of filling the swamp. Even if you don't think Biden is the right choice, one thing's for sure, among so many other things, he's not going to sit idly by and watch hundreds and thousands of Americans die a largely preventable death while simply shrugging his shoulders and saying, Oh well, "it is what it is".
After the first few warm days, callous adapted quickly, having formed a hoof-like condition on my feet.
“One of the most unpleasant races in the galaxy - not actually evil, but bad-tempered, bureaucratic, officious and callous.
When the first primeval Vogons crawled out of the sea, evolution gave up on them. Through sheer obstinacy, though, the Vogons survived (partly by adapting a misplaced, badly malformed, and dyspeptic liver into a brain)" (c) Douglas Adams
-inspired by self sacrifice-
I fought till my lungs screamed themself out and my hands grew callous and feirce.
the fight fell silent,the war ended
but there will always be blood on these hands
and there will always be scars beneath these eyes
the creases drawn by worry, and wearing tears wont be smoothed out
and the memory of the blows i withstood will not fade
it was a war i won,but would rather not have fought
but i did it for you.
by me
I've seen this happen.I think its crazy and beautiful makes no sense and should be exactly what people should have. when you love someone and are a apart of eachothers lives for so long it feels more like being one flesh then two,like nothing can hurt you without hurting the other. Through years you hurt eachother more then you would alone, you bleed and you hurt, you cry
and you forgive.
Despite what you are put through, what you do for the other, what pain you endure your nothing without the other person and you wouldnt want it any other way. odviously im not saying this from experience but i have been seeing it.
I admire you.
haha again decided to add grain
Dirty and sweaty from wearing them the whole day - I bet you can imagine the intoxicating scent of her smelly soles and the feeling of her rough heels over your tongue... any takers?
No sooner had it become amorphous, allied in a way as yet unseen, than the very same ambiguity, disguised as an earlier generation and swaying with swashbuckling cadence akin to Binn himself, came up from behind and bit her in the ass. All the old men laughed, as they set the cups of mint julep down, picked up their fiddles and began playing a rousing version of "Turkey in the Straw".
Connected on another plane directly in front of the parallelism of the first, a clear and definitive grasp of reality was utilized, in order to force the silvery-haired girl, derriere still a-smartin', to confront this 'spot of bother' head-on. Seemingly oblivious and callously indifferent to the moment and defined as such by a minute reference at the bottom of the page:
*Please note:
"No wait!" I exclaimed. "You can't just..." but it was too late. She got on the Greyhound bound for Tallahassee.
Love her slightly rough soles and this white callous around her
heels which means that she didn't wash her feet for quite a long time. Nothing better than bury your nose there and taking
a deep long inhale of this intoxicating scent. Her long toenails
are so sexy.! hope getting a special treat from her this weekend...
Oh the blissful deep burning relief and sweet smell of heat rub. :-)
Always reminds me of that great scene from Withnail and I. "We can cover ourselves in Deep Heat and get up against the radiator..."
Look at the state of my fingertips here as well. Because I haven't been able to play the guitar properly for a week or so, my hard-calloused tips are reverting to their silky-soft former state...