Caucasus Mountains
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Going through my catalogue, I couldn't resist another shot from my Georgia and Armenia trip. Mount Kasbag (Kezbhag, Kezbaghi, varaint spellings) is not quite in shot here, but this just shows that the Caucasus are a superb range of Mountains. Here they back onto the border with Russia. Gergeti, a hugely important place for Georgian culture is at an altitude of 2170 metres (7120 feet). This image was take from a similar altitude on the other side of the valley, above Stephantsminda.
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From a height of 2000 m, the resort town of Rosa Khutor is visible. С высоты 2000 м виден курортный город Роза Хутор.
Caucasus Mountains, Svaneti, Georgia, 2013.
“Two things fill the mind with ever new and increasing admiration and awe, the more often and steadily we reflect upon them: the starry heavens above me and the moral law within me. I do not seek or conjecture either of them as if they were veiled obscurities or extravagances beyond the horizon of my vision; I see them before me and connect them immediately with the consciousness of my existence.”
-- Immanuel Kant, Critique of Practical Reason
Sighnaghi, Georgia, Caucasus, 2013.
"The first man who, having fenced in a piece of land, said "This is mine," and found people naïve enough to believe him, that man was the true founder of civil society. From how many crimes, wars, and murders, from how many horrors and misfortunes might not any one have saved mankind, by pulling up the stakes, or filling up the ditch, and crying to his fellows: Beware of listening to this impostor; you are undone if you once forget that the fruits of the earth belong to us all, and the earth itself to nobody."
― Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Discourse on the Origin of Inequality
Caucasian Scarlet Poppy | Papaver commutatum 'Ladybird' | Papaveraceae
Samsung NX1 & Super-Takumar - 50mm f/1.4
10mm Macro Tube | 8 Elements | f/2.8 | Manual Focus | Available Light | Handheld
All Rights Reserved. © Nick Cowling 2020.
The great historic barrier of the Caucasus Mountains rises up across the wide isthmus separating the Black and Caspian seas in the region where Europe and Asia converge. Trending generally from northwest to southeast, the mountains consist of two ranges—the Greater Caucasus (Russian: Bolshoy Kavkaz) in the north and the Lesser Caucasus (Maly Kavkaz) in the south. Mount Elbrus in the Greater Caucasus range, at 18,510 feet (5,642 metres), is the highest peak. The watershed of the Greater Caucasus, the backbone of the system, traditionally has been part of the line dividing Europe and Asia, but Europe’s eastern boundary has been the subject of much debate. One widely accepted scheme draws the dividing line along the crest of the Greater Caucasus range, putting the portion of the region north of the line in Europe and the portion south of it in Asia. Another puts the western portion of the Caucasus region in Europe and the eastern part (the bulk of Azerbaijan and small portions of Armenia, Georgia, and Russia’s Caspian Sea coast) in Asia. Still another scheme identifies the Aras River and the Turkish border as the line of continental demarcation, thereby locating Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Georgia in Europe.
Morning view from Kazbegi Meteo Station (elev. 3653m), Greater Caucasus, Georgia.
Sony A7 + SMC Pentax-M 28mm F2.8
Copyright © Piotr Gaborek. All rights reserved!! Please do not use this image on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit written permission.
Spurs of Gulchi-Tau, Sugan Range, Caucasus. In the clouds on the right is Mount Mukhol 3954 m.
Отроги Гюльчи-Тау, Суганский хребет, Кавказ. В облаках справа гора Мухол 3954 м.
Life in the mountains of the North Caucasus. Dumala Pass between the village of Eltyubyu and Bezengi, Kabardino-Balkarian Republic, Russia.
Hawthorns are typical within the broadleaved forests and as solely growing shrub and tree life forms in the spurs and mountains of the North Caucasus
Teksar Mountains, view from Smbataberd Fortress / Vayots Dzor / Armenia
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С усталым, но воодушевленным настроением наша группа фотографов поднялась на вершину перевала, ухабистая горная тропа сменилась на удивление гладкой магистралью, которая элегантно змеилась через высокогорные луга. Настал золотой час, окутав мир вокруг нас теплыми объятиями, как будто само солнце спустилось, чтобы попрощаться с землей на ночь. Небо было усеяно колоссальными облаками, которые мерцали янтарным оттенком, нежно обнимая заснеженные вершины главного хребта. Несмотря на наше обещание ехать без остановки, непреодолимое очарование момента заставило нас остановиться и впитать великолепие, раскрывшееся перед нами. Одни фотографировали орлов, парящих высоко в небе, в то время как другие снимали красоту ледяных вершин крупным планом. Но среди этой грандиозной картины я не мог не заметить оранжевый грузовик, крошечное пятнышко на бесконечном просторе, мчащийся, словно движимый самим сердцебиением гор. Возможно, даже сейчас я не смогу дать ответ, почему я выбрал его в качестве объекта своей фотографии. Скорее всего потому, что выглядел он там совершенно нелепо и чуждо, но тогда он казался кометой, промчавшейся через долину, оставив после себя лишь пыльное облачко.
Время, отведенное на эту остановку, истекло, и все неохотно потянулись в машины. Двигатель взревел, и мы продолжили наш спешный и прерывистый путь к закатной съемке. Шины напевали тихую колыбельную, которая гармонировала с шепотом ветра, доносящегося сквозь приоткрытое окно. Дорога становилась ровнее и гладкий асфальт позволял нам ускориться, с полной уверенностью в том, что впереди нас ждут еще более захватывающие виды. Наш разговор становился тише, прерываемый лишь редкими восклицаниями, когда мы в очередной раз сталкивались с потрясающими видами, каждый из которых был великолепнее предыдущего. А когда красота становилась беспощадной, мы с вынужденным сожалением нарушали данное себе обещание.
With weary yet exhilarated spirits, our band of photographers crested the apex of the pass, the rugged path giving way to a surprisingly smooth thoroughfare that snaked elegantly through the high mountain meadows. The golden hour had arrived, casting a warm and gentle embrace upon the landscape, as if the very sun itself had descended to say the earth goodbye for the night. The vast sky was strewn with colossal clouds that shimmered with an amber hue, tenderly hugging the snow-capped peaks of the main ridge. Despite our earlier vow to push onward without pause, the irresistible allure of the moment compelled us to slow our pace and drink in the splendor before us. Some took pictures of eagles soaring high in the sky, while others noticed the beauty of the icy peaks and took close-up photos of them. Yet amidst this grand tableau, I couldn't help but notice an orange truck, a tiny speck in the vast wilderness, racing as if propelled by the very heartbeat of the mountains. Perhaps, even now I cannot give an answer as to why I chose him as the subject of my photograph. Most likely because he looked completely ridiculous and alien, but then he seemed like a comet that had rushed across the valley, leaving behind only a dusty cloud.
The time allotted for this stop expired, and everyone reluctantly made their way into the cars. The engine roared to life and we continued our hurried and choppy journey to the sunset shoot. The tires humming a soft lullaby that harmonized with the whispers of the wind, coming through the half-open window. The road became smoother and the smooth asphalt allowed us to accelerate, with complete confidence in that more breathtaking views await us ahead. Our conversation grew quieter, punctuated by the occasional exclamation as we encountered breathtaking vistas, each more magnificent than the last. And when beauty became merciless, we, with forced regret, broke the promise we had made to ourselves.