View allAll Photos Tagged Deepens
As Autumn deepens the morning sun through windows lights unexpected places. Like this beam that for just long enough to grab the camera glowed its colours.
Finally the early spring leaves are deepening as we move from late spring to summer colours. Their appearance has been quite quick to change recently as the cold / rain has given way to sun / warmth
With so many fields having been stood in water crops are late being planted but the grass and wild flowers doing well.
This is Whixley Field Lane which passes Whixley Field House on its way to Score Ray in North Yorkshire, England
For a long time I avoided the village and its memories. They were good memories - the happiest of my childhood in fact, but all of that was gone after the cottage was sold. I didn’t want to be reminded of what we no longer had, so I put it all in a box, to be opened from time to time, the contents gazed upon through misty eyes. The cottage from another era at the end of the lane with the stream running along one side, the quiet village with its nodding flowers, a clear blue sky full of summer swallows, trees as old as time and those bright green fields spattered with cow pats were my whole world during those summer visits. The evening walk to the pub, past barns that filled the air with the heady scent of farming. The uphill trudge along the path beside the brook, through the trees to the Combe and the refreshing waters of the mill pond where we swam in the afternoons. And then there was the Tavy, coursing down from the high ground, foaming over shiny smooth boulders coated in shades of treacherous green, racing noisily through rattling pebble beds, darkening and deepening into secretive browns and blacks across silent stretches beneath the huge oaks that grew along its banks. So cool and quiet in comparison to our home in a hot, irritable, crowded Falmouth in August. It’s where I forged a lifelong bond with the landscape and the natural world. A place where I learned the value of my own company. The Tavy was my first love, the deepest love that I had to say goodbye to, fighting back the tears on a gloomy October afternoon when Mum had taken us out of school for a final stay before the keys were handed to the new owner. In the next forty-two years, although I still visited the moor regularly enough, I barely saw the village at all - a passing pub lunch, an hour up by the Mill Pond. It didn’t feel the same. I stayed away from the lane where at the far end, the white cottage lay hidden out of sight. It was too much.
But this year Mum had a milestone birthday, and wanted to mark the occasion with an adventure we’d all remember. Somewhere to bring back those old memories. The campsite, a mile out of the village had always seemed like a poor substitute when we were able to stay in my great grandmother’s cottage, but those of us who could, booked our spots for an early summer gathering. I reserved a riverside motorhome pitch for Ali and myself. Suddenly the inevitable was at hand. We’d be waking each morning just a few yards from the Tavy. Maybe at last I’d lay the demons to rest and find a new way to love the place just as much as before, even if much of what we once had was now off limits. Nobody ever batted an eyelid at us kids charging around the fields from the farmyard next to the cottage, dodging cow pats all the way down to the river as we went. But times have changed - or perhaps it’s just us that have changed, filling the world with boundaries that weren’t there before as we grow old. Still, the great thing about campsites at this time of year is that they’re practically empty - just a few harmless pensioners about as keen on causing a riot as we are. As long as you’re not unfortunate enough to arrive and find a school summer camp in residence that is. We weren’t this time.
And now here we were again, in my case bringing the person I love most to the place that still holds so many powerful emotions. For three days we traced the same route, across the fields on the far side of the river thanks to a public footpath that was perhaps always here, past gazing cows and scurrying sheep, climbing over stiles, listening for the cry of a lone buzzard, watching the swallows swooping and racing low across the green spaces at our feet, dodging cowpats just like we did all those years ago. Stopping at the river by the bridge beneath the old whispering oaks and beeches to watch and listen, before heading on towards the pub and a pint of something warm and foaming. And then we’d walk through the village, the lane from the pub full of dried manure that had been squashed and splatted into crusty layers on the tarmac by tractors and the odd passing car .
There have been some changes. The village shop is now a holiday cottage, and there’s an old peoples’ home, discreetly tucked away along the main street. Sadly the mill pond is just an empty concrete bowl and there’s a seemingly redundant no swimming sign at one end. But so much more remains the same. The pub garden is exactly as it was, as are those dried cowpats in the lane and the cluttered old farm buildings beside it. I could close my eyes, breathe in the surroundings and be transported back in time to childhood. Perhaps at last the ghosts had been sent to their slumbers. When the time came to leave, the urge to stay here was as strong as it ever was. We agreed to return to the campsite and do it all again soon.
There are places to see the past, and there are places to experience it. Some dwellings are fragile and need to be protected. I get that and I agree. Some Anasazi/Ancient Puebloan structures are over 1000 years old. They command respect. However, I have to say, the visits that are most special to me are the places where you are allowed to roll up your sleeves and walk through them. Chaco Canyon, Mesa Verde, and here, the Lowery Pueblo in Canyon of the Ancients National Monument. My understanding and respect only deepens when I get a chance to walk through these fantastic structures. Yes, this take s a toll, but most of the places where you are allowed to walk through them have usually had a significant degree of arrested decay restoration- meaning the structures are re-built and in some cases fortified to preserve these structures in spite of the droves of love they are getting from those who want to learn.
Here the Feds have places a roof over a series of dwellings in Colorado, and they invite you to crawl through some of the structure. Seriously exciting.
Have you ever watched a rose as it fades away; the color becomes deeper as the petals dry. That's how my love for you deepens as the days go by.
(Anonymous)
One of several beautiful storms near Norton, Kansas on May 26, 2021. This supercell spun into the deepening twilight as lightning crawled up its sides.
Fluff ears of Miscanthus sinensis (Japanese silver glass, ’Susuki’ in Japanese) against the belt of Venus (pinkish glow).
“It was that time of dusk when there is a—deepening of the interior shadows. It is a melancholy time: all you need do is switch on one lamp and the inside and the outside will separate, held apart by the reflections in the glass, and evening will begin.”
Rudolph Delson, Maynard and Jennica
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The season of fresh greenery
Looking at the lush green young leaves always refreshes my mood. And We deepen love, too.
Silent Melody - www.flickr.com/photos/201486112@N02/
In the heart of the whispering ocean lies Silent Melody. A picturesque island where each corner reveals a hidden nook, a tranquil spot to sit and savor the peace to silent melodies, as the world outside fades into a distant murmur.
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Silent%20Melody%202/217/13...
Luca
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After a long day hiking and exploring Yosemite Valley, I noticed thick mists floating over the Sierra Nevada as I drove home along the winding canyon roads. As golden-hour light broke through the haze on the horizon, I pulled off near Yosemite West and took a few frames before the glow slipped away. The stacked ridgelines and shifting haze formed soft ombrés that deepened gently as dusk settled in.
The glorious mix of spring greens are just beginning to deepen into early summer colours
This is the path from Goker Beck to Grassgills near the village of Marton, North Yorkshire.
Already a little overgrown with the wet spring growth it reaches the higher ground before, at present, disappearing in the last field before Park House Farm
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During her university days, she vividly recalled encountering sketches of a peculiar disc-shaped device. It must have been in the library. The drive there was short, but the search was long—an afternoon spent flipping through countless volumes, chasing the memory of that elusive image.
Time slipped away, and as the library neared closing, her persistence was finally rewarded. In an aged book titled Quantum Physics Theory, she found it—a sketch, carefully reproduced from an ancient manuscript. Below it, the caption read: “An ancient vortex distortion device—capable of bending space and time.”
She read further. The device was referenced in ancient texts, yet no evidence of its existence had ever been found. Dismissed as myth, it remained a mystery. But that was it, the following pages had been torn out.
A chill ran through her. Could this truly be the same device? And if so… why was it in that store? And why was she being watched while she was examining it.
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You can view Quantum Fold episodes in order from the beginning in her album titled; Quantum Fold:
www.flickr.com/photos/199076397@N02/albums/72177720326169...
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(Part 3: A Growing Friendship)
The Wolpertinger has become my loyal friend, visiting me regularly as if our bond was meant to be. As it grew older, our connection deepened, and each visit felt like a reunion of old souls, bound by a magical understanding.
I cropped and post-processed the photo using Apple’s Photos photo editor to emphasize contrast, deepen the shadows, and enhance sharpness and definition.
Winter exhales,
a whispered chill across the earth.
Bare trees shiver,
their skeletons etched against a pale sky.
Silence deepens,
and I am holding my breath,
waiting for the thaw.
by bes~•
.... Houses by the River Great Ouse hold on to the last remnants of light before turning to silhouettes in front of the deepening colours of sunset.
Views of the shore are something that I have rarely done from this point of view, hundreds of times I pass through this place but I am always busy talking with someone and the important point of view and the content of it always escapes, maybe I have some photos in my gallery, but the point of view slips out of hand. Hopefully, you like this, I know that maybe I should use the focus using the magnification, but many details that I think interesting in the area will escape with that action.
This area is called Government Cut is a manmade shipping channel between Miami Beach and Fisher Island, which allows better access to the Port of Miami in Miami, Florida. Before the cut was established, a single peninsula of dry land stretched from what is now Miami Beach to what is now Fisher Island, and boats destined for the port at the mouth of the Miami River had to pass around Cape Florida, to the south of Key Biscayne.
Opened in 1905, the cut across the peninsula that is now Miami Beach was authorized by the U.S. government (hence the name), in order to provide a direct route from the Atlantic Ocean on the east to the seaport on Biscayne Bay to the west, without having to detour southward. The cut across the mangroves and beach at the southern end of the peninsula created Fisher Island, which except for the extreme northeast corner, is part of unincorporated Miami-Dade County, Florida. The now-famous South Beach is to the north of the cut.
Government Cut was authorized by the U.S. Congress in 1902, after the Committee on Rivers and Harbors of the U.S. House of Representatives approved it on June 13 of that year. Dredging began in 1903 and finished in the summer of 1905. Fill from the dredging was used to add to the privately-owned Fisher Island. Later dredging to widen and deepen the cut also added land area to the Port of Miami, and created the foundation for the MacArthur Causeway (east of Interstate 395).
let me remind myself of the reality..before deepening in the dreams world...
*Masha'alla TabarakAlla*
Model : Fatma
Consequences of long-term river sand mining and riverbed deepening by many kinds of powerful devices along the whole river
This ship is used to maintain navigable waterways, deepening the maritime canals and channels that are silted. It is also used to construct new land elsewhere such as causeways to cross bodies of water shallow enough for those projects and to replenish beaches eroded by storms and wave action. The ship built in 2018 was seen on the Motlawa river on my visit to Gdansk, Poland. I always marvel at man's engineering and wonder how much effort, research and thought goes into creating the things we take for granted. View large please.
Wast Water or Wastwater is a lake located in Wasdale, a valley in the western part of the Lake District National Park, England. The lake is almost 3 miles (4.8 km) long and more than one-third mile (500 m) wide. It is a glacial lake, formed in a glacially 'over-deepened' valley. It is the deepest lake in England at 258 feet (79 m). The surface of the lake is about 200 feet (60 m) above sea level, while its bottom is over 50 feet (15 m) below sea level. It is owned by the National Trust.
Atlantic hopping mad. Back in NYC - as the afternoon rolls on in November the sun gets lower and the shadows deepen.
Nikon D750, Nikkor 18-35 f3.5-4.5
...the last of the sunlight glows and the blues deepen through the hills of the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Speckled hush of green—
a limb twitches, then goes still,
leaf-shadowed and shy.
The hush of summer deepens,
life held in quiet disguise.
Speckled bush cricket.
The Tilt of Time
"Time weathers the body like wind on stone, but the soul deepens, gathering the beauty of all it has endured" by John O'Donohue
The steep cliffs and spectacular rock faces of Cataract Gorge make for great shadows and views of the misty hills beyond. There had been a fire in the forest further beyond Launceston that day so there was a definite smell of smoke in the air as I walked along the path towards the pond, further cataract and chairlift.
As the heath crisis deepens the dark clouds over every aspect of our lives are gathering . But there are still gleams of sunlight and the beauty of the natural world. It will endure, so we must too.
Poko forges into deepening snow. Utah's mountains reap uncommon snowpack depths from this year's atmospheric river. This will temper, but not eliminate drought, and the shrinking of the Great Salt Lake.
White are the far-off hills
And white the fading forests grow
The wind dies out amongst the tides
And denser still the snow
A gathering weight on roof and tree
Falls down scarce audibly
The meadows and far-sheeted streams
Lie still without a sound
Like some soft minister of dreams
The snowfall hoods me around
In wood and water, earth and air
A silence is everywhere
Save when at lonely spells
Some farmer's sleigh is urged on
With rustling runner and sharp bells
Swings by me and is gone
Or from the empty waste I hear
A sound remote and clear
The barking of a dog
To cattle, is sharply pued
Borne, echoing from some wayside stall
Or barnyard far afield
Then all is silent and the snow
Falls settling soft and slow
The evening deepens and the grey
Folds closer around sky
The world seems so shrouded, so far away
Its noises sleep, and I
As secret as yon buried stream
Plod dumbly on and dream
Taken at Witherwood Thicket
The lake, nestled in Jharkhand’s lush Patratu Valley, transforms as twilight deepens. The blue hour casts a soft indigo glow over the water, with mist rising gently from the surface and hills silhouetted in quiet majesty. It’s a moment where time seems to pause—serenity meets mystery, and nature whispers its secrets.
Finally the early spring leaves are deepening as we move from late spring to summer colours. There appearance has been quite quick to change this week as the cold / rain has given way to sun / warmth
With so many fields having been stood in water crops are late being planted.
This is Whixley Field Lane which passes Whixley Field House on its way to Score Ray in North Yorkshire, England
Bathed in warm golden light, the domes and minaret of this historic Ottoman mosque rise with quiet strength into the deepening blue sky of Istanbul. Captured from a low angle, the image highlights the harmony between form, shadow, and sunlight — a tribute to the enduring elegance of Islamic architecture. The golden crescents glint above layers of stone, evoking a sense of timeless serenity in the heart of a busy city.
It was a beautiful day for a circular walk from the North Yorkshire village of Whixley to Allerton Mauleverer. the spring greens are begining to deepen in colour now
This view is from the junction of Starra Field Lane and Ox Close Lane at Round Hill.
La imagen captura un camino de tierra que se adentra en un bosque denso, en el condado de Albert, durante un día de otoño intensamente nublado, con la luz del día desvaneciéndose rápidamente.
Atmósfera General y Luz: La atmósfera es melancólica y tranquila. La luz es tenue, suave y difusa, sin sombras marcadas debido a la densa capa de nubes grises que cubre el cielo. La paleta de colores otoñales, aunque presente, se ve atenuada por la falta de sol, adquiriendo tonos más apagados y saturaciones más bajas.
Primer Plano y Camino: El camino de tierra en primer plano parece más oscuro y húmedo, lo que intensifica los tonos marrones y ocres de la tierra y las hojas caídas. Las hojas de arce y abedul esparcidas por el suelo parecen casi apagadas, reflejando apenas la poca luz restante.
Vegetación y Colores Otoñales: Los árboles a ambos lados del camino forman un pasillo sombrío. Los rojos se ven más carmesí oscuro, los naranjas más quemados y los amarillos mostaza. Los verdes oscuros de las coníferas resaltan por contraste con las hojas caducas, proporcionando estructura al paisaje.
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The image captures a dirt road winding through a dense forest in Albert County, during an intensely cloudy autumn day, with the daylight rapidly fading.
Overall Atmosphere and Light: The atmosphere is melancholic and quiet. The light is dim, soft, and diffuse, with no harsh shadows due to the thick layer of gray clouds covering the sky. The autumn color palette, although present, is subdued by the lack of sunlight, adopting more muted tones and lower saturation levels.
Foreground and Road: The dirt road in the foreground appears darker and wetter, which deepens the brown and ochre tones of the earth and the fallen leaves. The scattered maple and birch leaves on the ground look almost dull, barely reflecting the remaining light.
Vegetation and Autumn Colors: The trees on both sides of the road form a shadowy corridor. The reds appear more a deep crimson, the oranges more burnt, and the yellows take on a mustard hue. The dark greens of the conifers stand out by contrast with the deciduous leaves, providing structure to the landscape.
Caption Enhance with Ai.
Road_MG_9816
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