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Lake Tahoe is the largest freshwater lake in the Sierra Nevada and the largest alpine lake in North America. Lake Tahoe is so clear that in some places, objects can be seen in depths of over 70 feet. One reason is that 40 percent of precipitation falling into the Lake Tahoe Basin falls directly upon the Lake. The remaining precipitation drains through marshes and meadows, which are a good filtering system for water. This summer vista is at the top near the entrance to one of the best parks on the California side Emerald Bay. There is great hiking here and you can brave the cold lake water for a swim, as well as kayak and canoe. Lake Tahoe is the third deepest lake in North America and the tenth deepest in the world.
Here is a great nature video with music to add to the wonder of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. flic.kr/p/2mMT8Yj
Ask Alexa, Siri and/or Spotify to play music
by John William Hammond . You will enjoy!
Your hand opens and closes, opens and closes. If it were always a fist or always stretched open, you would be paralysed. Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding, the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated as birds' wings.” ― Jelaluddin Rumi
In deepest rural West Lancashire a cascade of poppies adorns the community's memorial as a bright morning autumn sun lights up and casts shadows across a typical English village scene.
Title.
Early morning. Red light. Brake lights.
B♭ (B Flat)
A Novel by Mitsushiro Nakagawa
日本語のあらすじ等は下の方にあります😃
“Synopsis”
A Palestinian group from Gaza hacks into North Korea’s cryptocurrency system, stealing hundreds of millions of dollars. Their true goal is not money—but to recreate the lost homeland of Gaza on American soil.
Amid the backdrop of hardline Republican immigration policies and a growing wave of xenophobia, a quiet plan begins to take shape: the gradual collapse of America from within.
During a speech at Madison Square Garden, Republican presidential candidate Justin Bradford is shot. Almost simultaneously in Los Angeles, former president Owen Reed is attacked at a rally for Democratic hopeful Ryan Bennett.
Two assassinations—mirroring one another—ignite a nation’s deepest divide. Yet, against all odds, Justin survives. His blood type is one in 2.5 million: the Bombay Blood Group.
The only person who can donate such blood is Anaya Patel, a community art facilitator working in Brooklyn. Her blood, stored in the Bellevue Hospital Blood Bank, is used for an emergency transfusion that saves the candidate’s life.
Jack Vance, an agent of the U.S. Secret Service, suspects a Gaza-based network behind the attacks. Together with Cameron Bartlett, the FBI Director of the Los Angeles Field Office, and Veronica Reeves, a senior investigator from New York, he begins to uncover a vast conspiracy.
Their investigation leads them to Rafi Gannam, a former architecture student at the Islamic University of Gaza, who has infiltrated redevelopment sites across Los Angeles and New York—embedding C4 explosives deep within beams and structural cores.
His targets: new residential districts where agents of ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) and ERO (Enforcement and Removal Operations) live—symbols of “the order America built.”
Veronica urges the President to pursue dialogue to prevent further destruction, but President Grant M. Ranford refuses to listen.
Meanwhile, the recovering Justin and his Democratic rival Ryan appear on national television, calling for unity beyond political divisions.
Their words of reason, however, are drowned out when Grant takes the stage in Iowa, defiantly declaring: “We will never bow to terror.”
Among the crowd, Rafi’s operatives have already taken their positions.
As chaos erupts and the stage collapses, Amir Nasser—once Rafi’s comrade, haunted by the memory of his sister’s death in Gaza—tries desperately to halt the chain of destruction.
But Rafi’s conviction remains unshaken.
Under the twilight beneath the Williamsburg Bridge, amid the city’s fading noise, the two men part ways.
It is the boundary between prayer and vengeance, between hope and nothingness.
“Characters”
Anaya Patel – 25, Community Art Facilitator
Arjun Singh – 26, Anaya’s boyfriend, Luminatech Innovations
Mika Sato – 25, Anaya’s friend, Community Art Facilitator
Justin Bradford – 27, Republican Presidential Candidate
Eleanor Blake – 26, Justin’s fiancée
President Grant M. Langford – 61, Incumbent Republican President
Vice President Charles “Chuck” Baines – 64, Incumbent Republican Vice President
Ryan Bennett – 30, Democratic Presidential Candidate
Sophia Bennett – 30, Ryan’s wife
Owen Reed – 65, Former Democratic President
Jack Vance – 45, Secret Service, Former FBI Los Angeles Field Office
Ben Holloway – 30, Jack’s colleague
Darryl Ross – 29, Jack’s colleague
Elijah Kane – 28, Jack’s colleague
Marcus Dane – 45, FBI Los Angeles Field Office
Cameron Bartlett – 55, FBI Los Angeles Field Office, Field Office Director
Tom Caldwell – 38, FBI Technical Unit, Marcus’s subordinate
Veronica Reeves – 41, FBI Special Agent
Alexander Harris – 52, FBI New York Field Office, Field Office Director
Elliot Chen – 36, Technology Unit Chief
Alicia Monroe – 58, FBI Director
Zakaria Haddad – 51, Gaza Strip, Palestine; Former Islamic University Engineering Professor, New York Team
Amir Nasser – 23, Gaza Strip, Palestine; Former Islamic University Electronics Engineering, New York Team
Rafi Gannam – 32, Gaza Strip, Palestine; Islamic University, Architecture, New York Team
Rohan Shah – 29, Gaza Strip, Palestine; Islamic University, Architecture, New York Team
Majid Hamza – 47, Gaza Strip, Palestine; University of Palestine, Information Technology, Los Angeles Team
Samira Hammad – 28, Gaza Strip, Palestine; University of Palestine, Engineering, Los Angeles Team
Saeed Kabari – 35, Gaza Strip, Palestine; University of Palestine, Business Administration, Los Angeles Team
Reem Nasser – 30, Gaza Strip, Palestine; University of Palestine, Media Studies, Los Angeles Team
Noah Levi – 55, Israel, residing in Tel Aviv, Jewish
B♭ will be released worldwide on February 29, 2026.
Recently, director Ridley Scott remarked that streaming films and series have become dull.
I agree.
If you have two hours to spare for such stories, I ask for only two minutes of your time.
Two minutes with my novel will outlast those two hours.
I am confident of that.
Stay tuned.
Mitsushiro
October 9th, 2025
P.S.
Micchan — the man who challenges Netflix. 😃
(Nikon Coolpix 8700 shot)
Manhattan, New York, U.S.A. 2017 … 3 / 16
(Today’s photo. It has not been published before, but I’ve recently re-edited it from the original.)
Images.
ONE OK ROCK - We are [ LIVE ]
youtu.be/uyaKoj7wABY?si=l5TIci49GRdoYQDD
English lyrics and Japanese translation
youtu.be/wOS8u80wvEs?si=g2ghwRsJRmqn3C22
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My new novel
B♭ (B Flat)
Volume 19😄
The following is still in its draft stage and will be revised further.
Key parts are not disclosed.
The order of the content shown here is mixed.
(Of course, this is not the final version.)
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My new novel
B♭ (B Flat)
English translation by GPT-5, in collaboration with Mitsushiro Nakagawa
Twilight sank over the harbor town, dimming the air as the rusted girders along the pier turned a burnished red.
The park in Red Hook was nearly empty; the chains of the swings stirred in the wind, clinking faintly.
Children’s laughter drifted from afar, only deepening the stillness that hung over the place.
Amir stood outside the wire fence, gazing at the scene, and something half-forgotten stirred within him.
There had been evenings, too, in the rubble of Gaza.
Out from the ruins of broken houses, his mother would appear—
breathless, dust clinging to her clothes, coming to find him, to hold him close.
He could still recall the scent of her hair, the warmth of her arms.
“Let’s go home,” she had said.
Even if “home” was nothing more than a collapsing shell of stone and dust, her voice alone had led him back.
A mattress laid atop debris.
A room with no walls, only wind.
Yet each time his mother’s hand brushed his forehead, that place became, undeniably, home.
Amir’s gaze returned to the New York children swaying on the swings.
The innocent rhythm between mothers and sons was repeating itself again, bathed in the soft light of dusk.
It was a world untouched by weapons or blood.
“Rafi,” he murmured, barely louder than the wind,
“maybe… we don’t have to go on.”
Rafi didn’t look away.
His eyes were clouded with the sediment of Gaza—blood and dust, the memory of ruin.
His father’s body fallen in shadow.
Walls blackened with fire.
Dreams torn apart.
What filled him was not tenderness, but a cold and merciless anger.
“Don’t forget, Amir,” he said, his voice hard as stone.
“In the same place where your mother held you, our fathers were slaughtered.
Those ruins are not just ruins.”
Amir fell silent.
The river’s surface rippled red in the twilight; across the East River, the towers of Manhattan shimmered faintly, blurred at the edges.
Peace and destruction, memory and hatred—
they mingled together in the same wind.
Behind the wire fence, children’s laughter still rang out.
But to the two men, it sounded only like an echo from another world.
The setting sun sank quietly, staining the bridge’s iron joints red as the heat beneath it trembled in the air.
Rainwater pooled in the cracks of the concrete, reflecting a thin sheet of gold.
A faint steam rose from the damp air, and the salt from the harbor clung to Amir’s nose.
The boarded door of an abandoned factory hung loose,
the wind pushing in old newspapers and leaves, swirling them into tiny spirals.
From afar came the cry of cicadas, and a city bus exhaled a sigh through its brakes.
Beneath the bridge stood Amir, Rafi, and several others scattered in silence.
Some wiped sweat from their brows, eyes lowered to the ground;
others rested hands upon the girders, gazing out toward the distant light.
At intervals, the shadow of a parent waiting for a child passed by,
a white-roofed van gliding through the heat.
Amir rubbed his back, the sweat clinging to his shirt, and sat down in the shadow of the bridge pier.
Rafi stood a short distance away.
Their shadows stretched long, wavering under the harsh westering sun.
No one among their comrades moved; their stillness was a kind of breathless waiting.
“Can’t we stop here?” Amir’s voice wavered into the humid air.
In his mind, he saw again his mother’s hand reaching through a crack in the stone wall—
that small, dirt-stained hand that once touched his cheek.
The desire to return to that warmth still flickered faintly in his chest, like an ember refusing to die.
Rafi clenched his jaw, and spoke through his teeth, his words as brief and cold as a stone cast into the sea.
“Don’t forget, Amir.
If you forget that night, we’ll betray the dead.”
His voice merged with the creak of metal underfoot, irreconcilable with the laughter of children or the cry of cicadas drifting in the distance.
Amir narrowed his eyes, watching the flow of light beyond the railing.
Across the river, windows shimmered in layers—
places where life went on, where dinners were being served,
where children’s laughter and footsteps would echo softly through the gardens.
A deep shadow cut across Rafi’s face.
His fists were clenched, the veins on his hands taut and bright.
“That wish of yours,” he said quietly,
“do you know it might become someone’s gravestone?”
Amir’s gaze fell to a small white rabbit doll at his feet.
It was caked with dust, one eye missing.
Perhaps it belonged to a child who once played beneath this bridge—
or perhaps it had simply wandered here by chance.
Either way, to Amir, that single missing eye seemed like a fleeting glimpse of a world quietly disappearing.
Silence spread between them.
The wind hummed low through the iron beams.
Around them, the world went on moving.
A van door shut.
A parent touched a child’s shoulder.
A bus turned the corner.
Their comrades drew shallow breaths, eyes fixed on the ground or the far horizon.
Without looking back, Amir began walking toward the city beyond the bridge’s shadow.
Behind him came a single breath from Rafi—
a sound that carried the stillness of a corpse.
The summer dusk slowly swallowed the bridge.
The men beneath it remained as faint silhouettes,
poised between the red of sunset and the cold gleam of steel.
Rafi quietly unzipped his bag and drew out a tablet.
His fingers trembled slightly,
but he took a slow breath to steady himself,
and aimed the camera at the mark of “B♭” at the bottom of mellow-echo.net.
A dark screen flickered to life, revealing a deep-layer QR code.
Without hesitation, his finger slid along the words:
“C4-ID: Vanta+Core / Ready.”
That movement sent a faint tremor through the tension of the men beneath the bridge,
blending with the dry scent of rust and the damp summer air.
From the far side of the East River, under another bridge,
sparks began to rise—one, then another—
tiny flashes glowing red in the dark.
The light quivered across the shadows,
and the sound of metal striking metal echoed low.
Rafi’s eyes followed the fading silhouette of Amir’s back.
The others stepped silently away,
drawing a little farther from the bridge.
Moist air clung to Rafi’s skin,
and the mingled red of dusk and chill of steel filled the space around him.
In the hush beneath the bridge,
each flash and creak formed a strange rhythm in his chest.
A cicada cried once in the distance.
The city’s murmur faded to a far-off haze.
Pressed beneath that wave of tension,
the men held their breath,
confirming each other’s presence only through glances and the rhythm of their breathing.
The summer dusk slowly—yet surely—
swallowed the bridge, the city,
and the shadows that remained.
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My new novel:
B♭ (B-flat)
There’s still more to come. 😃
(This is not the final draft.)
Set in New York City.
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Soundtrack.
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack/pl.u-47...
For japanese
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack-for-jap...
Note: I gave a brief explanation of this novel in the following video:
youtu.be/3w65lqUF-YI?si=yG7qy6TPeCL9xRJV
iTunes Playlist Link::
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b/pl.u-47DJGhopxMD
For japanese
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack-for-jap...
My new novel:
B♭ (B-flat)
Notes
1. "Bombay Blood Type (hh type)"
•Characteristics: A rare blood type that lacks the usual ABO antigens — cannot be classified as A, B, or O.
•Discovery: First identified in 1952 in Mumbai, India (formerly Bombay).
•Prevalence: Roughly 1 in 10,000 people in India; globally, about 1 in 2.5 million.
•Transfusion Compatibility: Only compatible with blood from other Bombay type donors.
2. 2024 Harvard University Valedictorian Speech – The Power of Not Knowing
youtu.be/SOUH8iVqSOI?si=Ju-Y728irtcWR71K
3. Shots Fired at Trump Rally
youtu.be/1ejfAkzjEhk?si=ASqJwEmkY-2rW_hT
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Title.
早朝。赤信号。ブレーキランプ。
僕の新しい小説
B♭ （ビーフラット） ……. Mitsushiro Nakagawa
“あらすじ”
北朝鮮の仮想通貨システムをハッキングし、数億ドルを奪取したガザ出身のパレスチナ人グループが、アメリカ合衆国へ密かに潜入する。
彼らの目的は、失われた祖国ガザを、アメリカの地に「復元」することだった。
共和党による強硬な移民政策と、国内にくすぶる排外感情を利用し、アメリカ社会を内側から崩壊させる計画が静かに進行していく。
共和党大統領候補ジャスティン・ブラッドフォードがマディソン・スクエア・ガーデンで演説中に狙撃され、ほぼ同時刻、ロサンゼルスでは前大統領オーウェン・リードもまた、民主党候補ライアン・ベネットの集会で撃たれる。
国家を二分する双方向の暗殺。だが、ジャスティンは奇跡的に生還する。
彼の血液型は、世界でわずか250万人に一人といわれる「ボンベイブラッド」。
その希少な血を提供できたのは、ブルックリンで活動するコミュニティアート・ファシリテーター、アナヤ・パテルだった。
彼女の血液はベルビュー病院の血液バンクに保存されており、緊急輸血によって、候補者の命はかろうじて繋がれた。
シークレットサービスのジャック・バンスは、テロの背後にガザ出身の組織が関与していることを察知し、FBIロサンゼルス支局長官キャメロン・バートレット、ニューヨーク支局の特別捜査官ヴェロニカ・リーブスと共に捜査を進める。
やがて彼らは、イスラム大学で建築学を学んだラフィ・ガンナムが、ロサンゼルスやニューヨークの再開発現場に潜入し、梁や構造体の中枢にC4爆薬を仕込んでいた事実に辿り着く。
標的は、ICE（移民・関税執行局）やERO（執行・送還作戦部門）の職員が暮らす新興住宅街——すなわち、「アメリカが築いた秩序」そのものだった。
ヴェロニカは、これ以上の破壊を防ぐため、大統領への対話を進言するが、現職のグラント・ランフォード大統領は耳を貸さない。
一方、命を取り留めたジャスティンと民主党候補ライアンは、テレビを通じて国民に訴えかけ、分断を乗り越えようとする。
だが、その理性の声を嘲笑うかのように、グラントはアイオワ州での演説を強行し、「テロには屈しない」と宣言する。
その会場には、すでにラフィの仲間が率いる工作チームが潜入していた。
崩壊する会場の惨状を前に、仲間の一人アミール・ナッセルは、かつてガザで妹を失った記憶に引き裂かれ、破壊の連鎖を止めようとする。
だが、ラフィの信念は揺るがない。
ウィリアムズバーグ橋の下、夕暮れの喧騒のなか、二人は決別する。
それは、祈りと報復、希望と虚無の境界線だった——。
“登場人物”
アナヤ・パテル ２５歳 コミュニティアート・ファシリテーター
アルジュン・シン ２６歳 アナヤの恋人・ルミナテック・イノベーションズ社
佐藤 ミカ ２５歳 アナの友人・コミュニティアート・ファシリテーター
ジャスティン・ブラッドフォード ２７歳 共和党大統領候補
エリノア・ブレイク ２６歳 ジャスティンの婚約者
グラント・M・ランフォード大統領 ６１歳 共和党大統領現職
チャールズ・ベインズ副大統領 ６４歳 共和党副大統領現職
ライアン・ベネット ３０歳 民主党大統領候補
ソフィア・ベネット ３０歳 ライアンの妻
オーウェン・リード ６５歳 民主党前大統領
ジャック・バンス ４５歳 シークレットサービス 元FBIロサンゼルス支局
ベン・ホロウェイ ３０歳 ジャックの同僚
ダリル・ロス ２９歳 ジャックの同僚
イライジャ・ケイン ２８歳 ジャックの同僚
マーカス・デイン ４５歳 FBI ロサンゼルス支局
キャメロン・バートレット ５５歳 FBI ロサンゼルス支局 支局長
トム・コールドウェル ３８歳 FBI技術班 マーカスの部下
ヴェロニカ・リーヴス ４１歳 FBI特別捜査官
アレクサンダー・ハリス ５２歳 FBI ニューヨーク支局 支局長
エリオット・チェン ３６歳 テクノロジー班主任
アリシア・モンロー ５８歳 FBI長官
ザカリア・ハッダード ５１歳 パレスチナ・ガザ地区 元イスラム大学 工学部教授 ニューヨークチーム
アミール・ナッセル ２３歳 パレスチナ・ガザ地区 元イスラム大学 電子工学部 ニューヨークチーム
ラフィ・ガンナム ３２歳 パレスチナ・ガザ地区 イスラム大学 建築学部 ニューヨークチーム
ロハン・シャー ２９歳 パレスチナ・ガザ地区 イスラム大学 建築学部 ニューヨークチーム
マジード・ハムザ ４７歳 パレスチナ・ガザ地区 パレスチナ大学 情報技術学部 ロサンゼルスチーム
サミラ・ハンマド ２８歳 パレスチナ・ガザ地区 パレスチナ大学 工学部 ロサンゼルスチーム
サイード・カバリ ３５歳 パレスチナ・ガザ地区 パレスチナ大学 経営学部 ロサンゼルスチーム
リーム・ナセル ３０歳 パレスチナ・ガザ地区 パレスチナ大学 メディア学部 ロサンゼルスチーム
ノア・レヴィ 55歳 イスラエル テルアビブ在住 ユダヤ人
僕のこの小説は、来年、２０２６年２月末日に公開します。
先日、リドリースコット監督がサブスクの映画やドラマ群がつまらないと話していたようだけど、同感です。
僕も非常に退屈です。
それらに2時間を要するなら、僕の小説を２分間だけ読んで欲しい。
その2分間は、２時間を越えるでしょう。
僕は自信があります。
ぜひ、期待してお待ちください。
Mitsushiro Nakagawa
09th. Oct . 2025.
追伸
ネトフリに挑戦する男、みっちゃん。😃
( Nikon coolpix 8700 shot )
マンハッタン。ニューヨーク。アメリカ。2017. … 3 / 16
(今日の写真。それは未発表済みです。しかし最近、オリジナルから再編集しています。）
Images.
ONE OK ROCK - We are [ LIVE ]
youtu.be/uyaKoj7wABY?si=l5TIci49GRdoYQDD
英詞と和訳
youtu.be/wOS8u80wvEs?si=g2ghwRsJRmqn3C22
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僕の新しい小説。
B♭ （ビーフラット）
第19弾。 😄
以下は、まだ初稿の段階です。まだ推敲します。
重要な部分は公開していません。
公開している内容の順番はバラバラです。
(もちろん最終稿ではありません。)
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
僕の新しい小説。
B♭ （ビーフラット）
English translation by GPT-5, in collaboration with Mitsushiro Nakagawa
夕暮れは港町の空気を沈ませながら、埠頭に錆びついた鉄骨を赤銅色に染めていた。
レッドフックの公園は人影もまばらで、遊具の鎖が風に揺れ、かすかな音を立てていた。子どもたちの笑い声が遠くにひびき、かえって静けさを際立たせているようだった。
アミールは金網の外からその光景を見つめ、胸の奥に忘れかけていた感覚を呼び戻していた。
かつてガザの瓦礫の町にも夕暮れはあった。
破壊された家々のあいだから、母の姿が現れた。息を切らし、砂埃をまといながらも、彼を探して抱きしめに来る母の匂いを、アミールは今も覚えていた。
「家に帰ろう」と母は言った。
家とは呼べないほど崩れかけた場所であっても、その声だけが彼を導いた。瓦礫の上に置かれた布団、壁もない部屋に流れ込む風、それでも母の手が彼の額を撫でるたび、そこは確かに家だった。
アミールの視線は、ブランコに揺れるニューヨークの子どもたちへと戻った。母と子の無邪気な時間が、夕暮れの柔らかな光のなかで繰り返されている。
その光景は、武器や血とは無縁の世界だった。
「ラフィ……俺たちは、もうやめてもいいんじゃないか」
低く呟いた声は、風に溶けるほど弱かった。
ラフィは目を逸らさなかった。その瞳には、ガザの砂塵に埋もれた血の記憶がよどんでいた。
倒れ伏した父の影、焼け焦げた壁、裂けた夢。彼の胸に満ちているのは、優しさではなく、冷たい怒りだった。
「忘れるな、アミール」
声は硬い石のように響いた。
「母の腕に抱かれた記憶と同じ場所で、父たちは殺されたんだ。あの瓦礫はただの瓦礫じゃない」
アミールは唇を閉ざした。
夕暮れの川面が赤く揺らぎ、イーストリバー越しのマンハッタンの高層ビルの影がかすかに滲んでいた。
平和と破壊、記憶と憎しみが、同じ風の中で混じり合っていた。
金網の内では、子どもの笑い声がまだ響いていた。
しかし、ふたりの耳にはそれが遠い世界の残響にしか思えなかった。
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夕陽は鉄の骨の継ぎ目を赤く染めながら、橋の下の熱気に揺れつつ静かに沈み込んだ。
コンクリートの裂け目に溜まった水が、夕陽を映して薄い金色に光っている。湿った空気にわずかな湯気が立ち、港から流れる潮の匂いがアミールの鼻腔に絡んだ。
廃工場の戸板は半ば外れ、風が古い新聞紙や枯れ葉を押し込み、小さな渦をつくっていた。蝉の声が遠くから響き、路線バスのブレーキ音が一度、吐息のように洩れた。
橋の下には、アミールとラフィのほかに、数名の仲間たちが散らばって立っている。肩をすくめ、汗を拭いながら地面に視線を落とす者もいれば、鉄梁に手をかけ、遠くの光景をじっと見つめる者もいた。
時折、子どもを待つ親の影と、白い屋根の送迎車が通り過ぎる。
アミールは汗で張り付いたシャツの背中をさすり、橋げたの影に腰を下ろした。
ラフィは少し離れて立った。影は長く伸び、照りつける西日に揺れていた。仲間たちは微動だにせず、息を殺すようにその場にいる。
「ここでやめられないのか」
アミールの声は、蒸し暑い夕暮れの空気に溶けかけた。脳裏には、母が崩れた石壁の隙間から差し出した小さな手が浮かんでいた。母の手はいつも、汚れた掌で彼の頬を撫でてくれた。そこに帰りたいという欲が、胸の奥でまだ微かに温かく息をしている。
ラフィは奥歯を噛みしめ、舌先だけで言った。簡潔で、海に投げる石のように冷たい。
「忘れるな、アミール。あの夜のことを忘れたら、俺たちは死んだ者たちを裏切る」
その声は、波打つ鉄板の軋みと混じり、遠くの子どもたちの笑い声や蝉の声とは相容れなかった。
アミールは目を細め、橋の欄干越しに流れてゆく光を見た。向こう岸に、きらめく窓が幾重にも並んでいる。そこには暮らしがあり、夕飯の匂いが立ち、子どもたちの笑い声や庭先で遊ぶ足音が、柔らかく響いているはずだ。
ラフィの頬に深い影が刺さり、拳を握りしめている。手の甲の血管が鋭く浮いた。
「お前のその願いが、誰かの墓標になることを、お前は知っているのか」
アミールの視線は、足元に落ちた小さな白いうさぎのぬいぐるみに止まった。埃にまみれ、ひとつの目が欠けていた。
そのぬいぐるみは、橋の下で遊んだ遠い誰かのものかもしれない。あるいは単に迷い込んだだけかもしれない。どちらにせよ、アミールにはその欠けた目が、消えていく日常の一瞥に思えた。
沈黙がふたりを隔てた。風が、橋げたの鉄梁を低く鳴らした。
周囲の世界は動き続ける。送迎車の戸が閉まり、親が子の肩を叩く。バスが一台、角を曲がる。仲間たちは微かに息を整え、視線を地面や遠方に巡らせたままだ。
アミールは振り返らず、橋の影から街のほうへ歩き出した。
後ろでラフィの吐息が一つだけ聞こえた。それは骸のような静けさを残し、夏の夕闇が緩やかに橋を飲み込んでゆく。橋下の仲間たちは、かすかな影のまま残り、夕陽の赤と鉄の冷たさの間に佇んでいた。
ラフィは静かにバッグを開き、タブレットを取り出した。指先に、微かに震えはあったが、心を鎮めるように深く息を吸い、mellow-echo.netの最下部にあるB“♭（フラット）”に、ミュートリーダーのカメラをかざした。暗い画面にディープレイヤーQRコードが浮かび上がると、指先はためらうことなく、“C4-ID:Vanta+Core/Ready.”の文字に沿って滑った。その手の動きは、橋下に残った仲間たちの緊張を微かに揺らし、乾いた鉄の匂いと湿った夏の風に溶けた。
イーストリバーを挟んだ対岸の橋下から、火花が一点、また一点と立ち上り、暗がりに赤く瞬いた。小さな光は、橋下の影を揺らし、鉄梁にぶつかる音が低く響く。ラフィの視線はアミールの背に残る影を追い、仲間たちは無言で後退りし、橋下から少しずつ距離を取った。
湿気を帯びた空気がラフィの肌をまとい、夕陽の赤と鉄の冷たさが入り混じる。橋下の静寂の中、火花の閃光と小さな軋みが、ラフィの胸の奥に奇妙な律動を生んだ。遠くで蝉が一声鳴き、街のざわめきは遙か彼方に霞んでゆく。
その緊張の波に押されるように、橋下の仲間たちは息をひそめ、視線と呼吸だけで互いの存在を確かめあった。
夏の夕闇は、まるで橋を、街を、そして残された影を静かに、しかし確かに飲み込んでいった。
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僕の新しい小説。
B♭ （ビーフラット）
舞台はニューヨークです。
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Soundtrack.
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack/pl.u-47...
For japanese
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack-for-jap...
iTunes Playlist Link::
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b/pl.u-47DJGhopxMD
For japanese
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack-for-jap...
追記 この小説を多少説明しました。
youtu.be/3w65lqUF-YI?si=yG7qy6TPeCL9xRJV
メモ
1
「Bombay型（ボンベイ型、hh型）」
•特徴：通常のABO血液型を持たない（A、B、Oに分類されない）特殊な型。
•発見地：1952年、インド・ムンバイ（旧ボンベイ）で初めて確認。
•発生頻度：インドでは1万人に1人程度だが、世界的には約250万人に1人とも。
•輸血制限：同じBombay型しか輸血できない。
2
2024年ハーバード大学首席の卒業式スピーチ『知らないことの力』
youtu.be/SOUH8iVqSOI?si=Ju-Y728irtcWR71K
3
Shots fired at Trump rally
youtu.be/1ejfAkzjEhk?si=ASqJwEmkY-2rW_hT
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Afternoon twilight in deepest midwinter behind Belfast's Albert Memorial Clock, shot from the Lagan Weir footbridge.
The 1869 Albert Clock is one of Belfast's landmarks. Gently leaning, like a Hibernian tower of Pisa, thanks to the underground marshlands on which this part of the city was built, it is a memorial to Queen Victoria's late Prince Consort, Albert.
The architect was by W. J. Barre, who had earlier designed Belfast's Ulster Hall.
Some parts of the clock were removed due to its lean in 1924, and it was damaged in the IRA's 1992 bombing of nearby River House.
In deepest Worcestershire, DBS 66076, is about to pass under Rebecca Road, Besford with 5Z43 1151 Bescot to Laira refurbished Mk3 stock move.
For alternative railway photography, follow the link:
www.phoenix-rpc.co.uk/index.html to the Phoenix Railway Photographic Circle.
Golden brown, deepest blue
Lake of beauty in front of you
Winter sun it does shine
Rays they drink natures wine
Reflections dance, golden brown on blue
Across the lake in front of you
Beautifully deep and wildly wide
Filled with treasure's, down deep inside
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us most. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in all of us. And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” -Maryanne Williamson
A random inspirational thought for the day :-)
112 IN 2012 group: #88- silhouette
The deepest canyon in South-East Asia, framed by 1000m cliffsides, is seen here from the "Ma Pi Leng Skywalk" hiking route (see previous pictures).
The ridge on the horizon corresponds to the chinese border. The Nho Quế river comes from Yunnan, where it is called the Nanli River (南利河) and flows into the Red River after joining the Gâm River.
Wastwater is situated in the Wasdale Valley on the western side of the Lake District. This dramatic lake is three miles long, half a mile wide and 260 feet deep. It is the deepest of all of England’s lakes as well as being perhaps the most awe-inspiring. It is surrounded by mountains including Red Pike, Kirk Fell, Great Gable and Scafell Pike, which at 3,209 feet above sea level is the highest in England.
Soiurce: www.visitcumbria.com/wc/wastwater/.
Heavenly Lake (Tian Chi), Urumqi, China.
Tianchi Lake in Tianshan Tianchi National Park is a scenic highlight about 1.5 to 2 hours out of Urumqi. It is a small lake in high mountains.accommodations in a high-mountain national park, the Tianchi Lake is a great place to camp.
The lake itself is about 3 kilometers long and averages about 600 or 700 meters wide (2 miles by less than half a mile). It is surrounded by many rugged and forested valleys that lead down to the lake from closely surrounding peaks that reach about 2,400 meters (7,800 feet). The surface of the lake itself is at an altitude of about 2,000 meters or about 6,600 feet, and it is about 100 meters at the deepest point. There is a hiking trail that goes around it
For video, please visit youtu.be/yZYlJGhmAIg
Our deepest fear in not that we are inadequate, our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
Nuestro mayor temor no es que seamos inadecuados, sino que seamos más poderosos de lo que imaginamos.
It is our light, not our darkness that more frightens us.
Es nuestra luz, no nuestra oscuridad lo que más nos asusta.
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our Light, not our Darkness, that most frightens us.
Marianne Williamson.
Marianne Deborah Williamson (born July 8, 1952) is an American spiritual teacher, author and lecturer. She has published eleven books, including four New York Times number one bestsellers. She is the founder of Project Angel Food, a meals-on-wheels program that serves homebound people with AIDS in the Los Angeles area, and the co-founder of The Peace Alliance, a grassroots campaign supporting legislation to establish a United States Department of Peace. She serves on the Board of Directors of the RESULTS organization, which works to end poverty in the United States and around the world. Williamson also produces the Sister Giant Conferences, highlighting the intersection of spirituality and politics. Source Wikipedia.
West Hawk Lake in White Shell Provincial Park, Manitoba, Canada, is stunning. While enjoying an evening dip in the sandy beach after a 30C day, a float plan passed by several times, providing entertainment for the beach goers: racing a motorboat, performing sharp turns, and then gently landing on the peaceful waters. This lake, formed by an ancient meteorite, is a crater and as such is the deepest lake in the province of Manitoba. I’m grateful to have experienced the solace and tranquility and its cool refreshing waters.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7pvci1hwAx8
Only if you have been in the deepest valley, can you ever know how magnificent it is to be on the highest mountain.
Richard M. Nixon
© All rights reserved Anna Kwa. Please do not use this image on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit written permission
Blea Water seen from Long Stile.
At just over 200 ft (61m) deep it is the deepest tarn in the Lake District.
The deepest darkest corners of Lulworth Castle..... actually it's ground level... lol... not that deep at all.... but ya gotta sound dramatic even if you're not... :)
Cormorants are the deepest diving birds in Southern California and can dive 120 to 300 feet deep.
They are also excellent fisherbirds, in fact they are so good at catching fish that cormorant species in Asia have been trained to catch fish for people. For every seven fish they catch, the cormorant gets to eat one 🐟.
Seen in deepest SE London, had to take a quick snap as folk were around and it was parked up in one of those odd cul-de-sac estates where everyone seems to be related, taxed and MOT'd to Feb 2026.
Chand Baori is a stepwell situated in the village of Abhaneri in the Indian state of Rajasthan. It extends approximately 30 m (100 ft) into the ground, making it one of the deepest and largest stepwells in India. It is named after a local ruler of Nikumbh dynasty called Raja Chanda and its construction is dated to the 8th-9th century. It has 3500 steps cascading 13 stories deep into a massive tank at the bottom and has been constructed in an upside-down pyramid style.
Chand Baori is said to be named after a local ruler of Nikumbh Rajput dynasty called Raja Chanda. However, no epigraphic evidence has been found regarding the construction of the Chand Baori or the adjoining Harshat Mata Temple. Based on similarities in style and carvings with the terraced temples of Paranagar and Mandore, the Baori can be dated to the 8th-9th century. It was likely constructed before the temple. According to Morna Livingston in Steps to Water: The Ancient Stepwells of India, Chand Baori is one of the few stepwells that has "two classical periods of water building in a single setting".
The oldest parts of the step-well date from the 8th century onwards. An upper palace building was added to the site, which can be seen from the tabulated arches used by the Chauhan rulers. Adjoining the baori is the architecturally splendid and sculpturally beautiful Harshat Mata Temple, which was built between the 7th-8th century, but was destroyed and damaged by Mahmud Ghazni. Many of its pillars, columns, and statues now lie scattered. The Mughals also destroyed the Baori interior sculptures. Today, there are remains of old sculptures and carvings, which were suggested to be in the temple or in the various rooms. The nearby temple of Harshat Mata, goddess of joy, was a pilgrimage site and formed a complex together alongside the well.
Many of these stepwells, including Chand Baori, served multiple purposes alongside drawing water and playing a significant role in religious or ceremonial activities. Pilgrims are said to have found comfort in quenching their thirst and finding a resting spot at the steps of Chand Baori after their long travels. This unique form of underground well-architecture remains constant from the 7th century in the existing monument. Excavated stones of the temple are now kept by the Archaeological Survey of India in the arcades of the well. Chand Baori is a significant architectural site in western India.
Chand Baori is a deep four-sided well with a large temple located in the back of the well. The basic architectural aspects of the monumental well consists of a long corridor of steps leading to five or six stories below ground level, which can be seen at the site. Chand Baori consists of 3,500 narrow steps over 13 stories. The state of Rajasthan is extremely arid, and the design and final structure of Chand Baori were intended to conserve as much water as possible.
Ancient Indian scriptures made references to the construction of wells, canals, tanks, and dams and their efficient operation and maintenance. This site combined many of these operations to allow for easy access to local water. At the bottom of the well, the air remains 5-6 °C cooler than at the surface, and Chand Baori was used as a community gathering place for locals during periods of intense heat. One side of the well has a haveli pavilion and resting room for the royals.
Chand Baori is considered to be one of the oldest surviving step wells in the country. On three sides, it has 3500 steps cascading 13 stories deep into a massive tank at the bottom. The fourth side has pillared corridors at many levels. Of interest here is its exquisite diamond-setting geometry of the cascading steps on three sides and the image of Sheshasayee Vishnu reclining on the serpent Ananta. This baori or stepwell has been constructed in an upside-down pyramid-style. The classical Indian texts on architecture (Vastu) like Aparajitapriccha or Vishvakarma's Vastushastra call this design a vijay vapi. The baori has double flights of steps on each of its ten landings on all three sides. On the fourth side, to the north, is a pillared corridor of many stories. This wall at the north contains two projected offsets to house a niche in each of them. These two niches serve as shrines, the right one houses the deity Ganesha while the left one has an image of Mahishasuramardini. The Ganesha shrine is crowned with chaitya having a female dancer and her attendant carved over it. There are many other dancing figures and attendants carved around this structure. On the upper section, carvings depicting Uma-Maheshwara and Simhavahini Durga can be seen in small modifications, repairs, and reconstructions since its construction as it was in continuous use till the late medieval period. The ancient stepwell underwent many changes for both beautification and better utility. A pillared verandah on all four sides seems to be a later addition. There is also a small room, Anderi Ujala, which was a spot to draw water with some traditional pulley-like equipment. Legend also says that a tunnel connected Abhaneri to Dausa.
Lisbon's 140-year-old Glória funicular, which is popular with tourists, derailed and crashed into a building at around 18:15 local time (17:15 GMT) on Wednesday.
It is not known how many passengers were on board when the crash happened.
A crash killed at least 16/17 people, more than 20 others were injured.
Crash happened on the right side up the street where red house meets white house, behind the green sign "SUBWAY"
First opened in 1885 and electrified in 1915, the Glória is one of three funicular lines run by Lisbon municipal transport company, Carris.
The Glória system is made up of two streetcars running in parallel and hauled by steel cables: so as one descends, its weight pulls the other uphill.
Designated a national monument, the Elevador da Glória carries about 3 million passengers a year.
Details about the crash you can see and read here:
In the deepest ocean
The bottom of the sea
Your eyes
They turn me
Why should I stay here?
Why should I stay?
I'd be crazy not to follow
Follow where you lead
Your eyes
They turn me
Turn me on to phantoms
I follow to the edge of the earth
And fall off
Everybody leaves
If they get the chance
And this is my chance
I get eaten by the worms
Weird fishes
Get picked over by the worms
Weird fishes
Weird fishes
Weird fishes
I'll hit the bottom
Hit the bottom and escape
Escape
I'll hit the bottom
Hit the bottom and escape
Escape
Words by Radiohead. Picture by Amanda.
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
[ from "i carry your heart with me" by eecummings]
Butchart Gardens, Vancouver Island, British Columbia, Canada
my textures
“A great photograph is one that fully expresses what one feels, in the deepest sense, about what is being photographed.”
― Ansel Adams
Snow in deepest Stacksteads
My Mancave covered in snow and looking cold.
More to come throughout the day too, according to the forecast.
Today will be a day spent mainly indoors I think.
Stay warm and safe folks ♥️
Herbie arrived at our house two years ago today…
All my images are protected under international author’s copyright laws and may not be downloaded, reproduced, copied, transmitted or manipulated without my written explicit permission.
Contact: ietphotography@gmail.com
In case you want to use or print any of my pictures, please contact me or visit my website: www.ietphotography.com
www.flickr.com/photos/ietphotography
A cloud bank out over the ocean obscures another sunset; oh well!
Tripod-mounted with Lee Big Stopper & remote trigger. Thirty seconds was only just enough, but I managed to keep the dogs off of the pristine beach in the foreground; hurrah!
Come say hello at Pelcomb Portraits.
En juin 2021, le photographe Steve Haining a entrepris de battre un record du monde Guinness en réalisant la séance photo sous-marine la plus profonde avec un mannequin . À l'époque, cela ressemblait à l'exploit ultime de la photographie sous-marine, repoussant à la fois les limites de la plongée et de l'art. Pourtant, Haining et le mannequin Ciara Antoski ont continué à se mettre au défi, battant le record encore et encore.
Pour leur dernière tentative, le duo a organisé une séance photo à 50 mètres sous l'eau .
°°°°°°°°°°°
In June 2021, photographer Steve Haining set out to break a Guinness World Record for achieving the deepest underwater model photoshoot. At the time, it felt like the ultimate feat of underwater photography, pushing both the limits of diving and art. Yet, Haining and model Ciara Antoski kept challenging themselves, breaking the record again and then again.
For their latest endeavor, the pair held a photoshoot at 163.4 feet underwater.
Credit : Steve Haining
My arrival - Looking along Wast Water (the deepest lake in England) towards Wasdale Head and Great Gable - Lake District National Park, Cumbria, 18th November 2005.
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Find me here :
Facebook : www.facebook.com/3amfromkyoto
Twitter : www.twitter.com/3amfromkyoto
My website : www.3amfromkyoto.com
Deepest sympathies go to the family, friends and comrades of the pilot who lost his life this morning the tragic crash of 48th FW F15C Eagle 86-0176.
My deepest gratitude to all of you for following me on my journey to photograph butterflies. Thank you for all your wonderful comments and praise of my work, your faves and your views. It wouldn't be any fun without you.
Happy Thanksgiving! Be well. Be happy.
" Where is your self to be found?
Always in the deepest enchantment
that you have experienced "
{Hugo von Hofmannsthal}
our deepest roots are in nature. No matter who you are, where you live, or what kind of life you lead, you remain irrevocably linked with the rest of creation
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn’t serve the world. There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we’re liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
-Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love
Strobist: AB1600 with gridded 60 X30 softbox camera left. Reflector camera right. Triggered by Cybersync.
Devil's Dyke is the longest, widest and deepest dry chalk valley in the country. Legend has it that the Devil dug the valley to drown the parishioners of the Weald. Scientists, however, believe it was formed in the last Ice Age. John Constable described it as 'the grandest view in the world'
Autumn blue hour on the deepest lake in England, Wast Water in the Lake District National park, Cumbria, UK.
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Workshops & Tours: We are now taking bookings for our new 2021 Isle of Harris Tour!