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16 km - E1 - D - 3.1.1 Buchholz i.d.N. - Handeloh (nach Undeloh in der nächsten Tour)
Hamburg/Lower Saxony - Long distance hiking - E1
e1.hiking-europe.eu/e1/etappen/deutschland/nordheide/buch...
Auch NordSüd Trail und Heidschnuckenweg
A view north from Mormon Point. To the image left are peaks of the Panamint Range. To the image right are peaks of the Amaragosa Range. One can even see a few wisps of clouds far, far off in the distance.
A brief article by Islander author Eugene Cameron - Port Kusam was established in 1895 and is located in a just south of the mouth of the Salmon River on Johnstone Straight. The Ruby House at Port Kusam opened in 1898. It operated as a store, saloon, post office, and hotel until 1921, at which time it was bought by a family from Victoria for use as a place of residence. A Union Steam Ship stopped in the straight to off-load supplies, a rowboat would bring the cargo to Port Kusam. The Ruby House has long been abandoned. Its usefulness came to an end as families came to settle in the area and built their homes along the Salmon River in the Sayward Valley and docking facilities were built at Kelsey Bay. LINK to the complete article - www.newspapers.com/clip/98968911/port-kusam-ruby-house-an...
Ruby House - At the time of the Klondike gold rush, the Port Kusam Hotel was a stop along Johnstone Strait for the would-be miners. The post office was on the left us you entered the Store: Kohse describes a chicken-wire-walled postmaster's office containing rows of letter boxes labelled with faded names. But he has regrets for not paving more heed to the first hand accounts of long-passed old timers and storytellers who gathered in the beer parlour, picked up mail and stocked up with supplies and provisions from the store.
A century ago, however, the whitewashed false-fronted building overlooking Johnstone Strait just, south of Kelsey Bay at what is now spelled Hkusam, must have been a magnificent sight for Union Steamship passengers, Klondike gold rush hopefuls, itinerant cannery workers and hand loggers steaming, sailing or rowing through a vast frontier. Theodore Peterson, a Swedish immigrant, built the hotel in 1895 and operated it until 1921. In keeping with the old real estate mantra of "location, location, location," Peterson seized the opportunity to stake out an oasis of civilization and commerce in a trackless coastal wilderness. The hotel, saloon, store and post office were located "stepping-stone" distance north of the Lund Hotel (1895) and post office (1892). LINK - www.newspapers.com/clip/98969244/times-colonist/
Six miles south of Kelsey Bay is Sayward post office, which was established in 1894 upon land owned by Hans Otto Sachts. He had a general store which had begun in a small cabin, then was enlarged to accommodate his many customers. For many years afterwards some items no longer available could be found on the shelves, but only Mr. Sachts knew exactly where to find any item at any time.
The PORT KUSAM Post Office was established - 1 March 1899 - it changed name to Sayward - 1 December 1911.
LINK to a list of the Postmasters who served at the PORT KUSAM Post Office - www.bac-lac.gc.ca/eng/discover/postal-heritage-philately/...; and the Sayward Post Office - www.bac-lac.gc.ca/eng/discover/postal-heritage-philately/...;
Hans Otto Sacht served as Postmaster at PORT KUSAM / Sayward from - 1 July 1903 to - 13 March 1919.
Clipped from - Vancouver Daily World newspaper - Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada - 1 Jun 1918 - NAMED HANS OTTO SACHT Sayward Island Postmaster is German, ex-Soldier Charges. During the mass meeting of returned soldiers at the imperial Theatre on Friday night J. E. Armishaw, of Sayward Island, who went overseas and was honorably discharged from the army, charged that the postmaster at Sayward Island was a German named Hans Otto Sacht, who had amassed a fortune as postmaster, telegraph operator, mail carrier and storekeeper. This man, he said, spoke the German language and taught his six boys to do so, further charging that all efforts by residents in the form of petitions and appeals to the local federal member, Mr. Clements, to look into the question had proved unavailing. He instanced several alleged disloyal utterances and acts by the postmaster and his wife.
LINK - Claims Postmaster at Sayward is Hun (1 June 1918) - www.newspapers.com/clip/98966274/claims-postmaster-at-say...
LINK - Sayward's Trouble - Hans Otto Sacht Apparently Fails to Acquire Friendly Sympathy of the Community. - www.newspapers.com/clip/98966402/saywards-trouble-hans-ot...
HANS OTTO SACHT POSTMASTER FINED - NANAIMO, B.C. March 8, 1919. Hans Otto Sacht, postmaster, farmer and store keeper of Sayward, Vancouver Island was found guilty in the provincial police court by Magistrate Potts on three charges of selling goods without revenue stamps being attached, and fined a total of $150 - five days later he put his resignation in.
LINK - Family Stays Hot - New Merger cools Rivalry (22 August 1968) - www.newspapers.com/clip/98966654/family-stays-hot-new-mer...
Hans Otto Sacht
(b. 23 May 1868 in Germany - d. 17 June 1959 at age 91 in Vancouver, B.C. / Sayward, B.C.)
- sent from - / PORT • KUSAM / MR 26 / 10 / B.C. / - split ring cancel - this split ring hammer (A1-1) is not listed in the Proof Book - it was most likely proofed c. 1899 - (RF E now is classified as RF D).
Yelm is located in southeastern Thurston County, adjacent to its border with Pierce County, along the Nisqually River. The city is near the Nisqually Indian Reservation, locate to the northwest on State Route 510, and Joint Base Lewis–McChord on the northeast side of the river. Another major highway, State Route 507, connects Yelm to Centralia and Spanaway near Tacoma. The word "Yelm" is said to come from the Coast Salish word shelm or chelm, meaning "heat waves from the sun", referring to heat mirages.
Message on postcard reads: Dear Cleo (1) :- Was it you or I wrote last? If it was you I will answer as soon as I find out. I hope you are all well. Howard (2) wants to know if the bull has killed Rolland (3) so its why he can't write. Well goodbye with kindest regards. From Lydia Johnson. (4)
(4) - Lydia Alice (nee Johnson) Wright
(b. 19 February 1896 in Seattle, Washington - d. 10 January 1975 at age 78 in Centralia, Lewis County, USA.) - she married - Clinton Benia Fisk Wright (7 June 1887 – 10 June 1941) on - 30 May 1920 in Colorado, United States.
(2) - Her brother - William Howard Johnson
(b. 29 September 1898 in Read Island, Comox-Strathcona, British Columbia - d. 20 January 1980 at age 81 in Chehalis, Lewis, Washington, United States) LINK to his birth certificate - search-collections.royalbcmuseum.bc.ca/Image/Genealogy/ee... LINK - to his marriage certificate - search-collections.royalbcmuseum.bc.ca/Image/Genealogy/63...
William Howard Johnson wife - Mabel Henrietta (nee Turner) Johnson
(b. 8 March 1884 in La Conner, Skagit County, Washington, United States - d. 1968) - she was a school teacher. They were married - 19 August 1915 in Vancouver, B.C. - she was a school teacher and married one of her students (William Howard Johnson) when he was 16 years old. This note was written by his niece - My Uncle Howard married his school teacher when he was 17 or 18, (he was 16) and she was 21 (she was 31). It was a big scandal at the time. LINK - www.familysearch.org/tree/person/memories/L6QC-FCD see postcard below...
Her father - Ellis Irvin Johnson
(b. 17 August 1863 in Grampian, Clearfield, Pennsylvania, United States – d. 25 November 1943 at age 80 in Seattle, King, Washington, United States)
LINK to a newspaper article (17 September 1910) - Trappers' Rivalry Comes To Tragic Climax - Salmon River Rancher Charged with Murder of His Neighbor - Row over Beaver Skins - Victim of Tragedy Went to House of Neighbor to Execute Search Warrant and was Shot While There - www.newspapers.com/clip/98927353/the-province/ Occupation - farmer / woodsman
Her mother - Fanny D. (nee Dye) Johnson
(b. 29 July 1866 in Monroe, Jasper, Iowa, United States – d. 27 December 1914 at age 48 in Julesburg, Sedgwick, Colorado, United States) - Fannie had TB and she had to live in a tent. Her doctor said the air in Colorado would be better for her.
Addressed to: Miss Cleo Weber / Yelm / Washington / USA
(1) - Cleora / Cleo Pauline (nee Weber) Sitten / Strablow / Paine
(b. December 1893 in Rainier, Thurston, Washington, United States – d. 19 June 1982 at age 88 in Tacoma, Washington, USA)
Her first husband - Austin Sitten
(b. 12 November 1885 in Illinois, United States – d. 4 November 1944 at age 58 in Tacoma, Pierce, Washington) - they were married - 12 March 1918 in Pierce, Washington, United States.
Her second husband - Bert Elmer Strablow
(b. 2 December 1875 in Illinois, United States – d. 14 March 1952 at age 76 in Olympia, Thurston, Washington, United States) - they were married - 28 June 1947 in Yelm, Thurston, Washington, United States.
Her third husband - Charles Henry Paine
(b. 26 September 1894 in Waterville, Douglas, Washington, United States – d. 18 June 1969 at age 74 in Olympia, Thurston, Washington, United States) - they were married - December 1960 in Yelm, Thurston, Washington, United States.
(3) - Her brother - Roland Francis Weber
(b. 6 December 1895 in Yelm, Thurston, Washington, United States – d. 25 August 1971 at age 75 in elm, Thurston, Washington, United States) - LINK to his obituary - www.newspapers.com/clip/98956657/roland-francis-weber-obi...
His first wife - Laura Nelsene (nee Denny) Weber
(b. 29 May 1902 in Olympia,Thurston,Washington – d. 1 December 1941 at age 39 in Yelm, Thurston, Washington, United States) - they were married - 30 Dec 1920 in Pierce, Washington, United States.
His second wife - Clara Jennie / Jenny Brown
(b. 12 May 1899 in Darby, Montana, USA – d. 6 March 1984 at age 84 in Yelm, Thurston, Washington, United States) - they were married - 12 December 1942 Yelm, Thurston, Washington, United States. LINK to her obituary - www.newspapers.com/clip/98964337/clara-jenny-weber-obituary/
Darwin's floodplains, waiting for rain.... This was the first storm of this season, really. It made it all the way to town!
Not the best bolt in the world, I spent 3 hours running around in circles and getting lost in the rural area (d'oh). Then after another half an hour trying to set my tripod up inside my car (and still getting spots all over my lens from my open window.... grr), the storm had moved quite a distance away from me. Still, I managed to get out of the car when it dried up and got a few little bolts. I need to get my storm swing back on again - I shoulda trusted my first instinct on choosing a location!
Exciting news for me too over the last couple of days - my 2014 calendars, and my first coffee table book are now in stock! :)
Check them out here - wp.me/p3zwhm-3u
Landscape version of a recent upload!
Oh for a sky like that right now!? What a summer!!
:0)
Lee filters.
Exif data
CameraCanon EOS-1D Mark IV
Exposure0.4
Aperturef/11.0
Focal Length17 mm
ISO Speed100
fabriziomusacchio.com/blog/socialdistancing7
#Fujifilm #fujifilm_xseries #X100V #streetphotography #35mm #cologne during #covid19
==Arkham Island==
Eric Needham staggered through the Arkham Forest, leaving dribbles of fresh blood in his wake. Finding a fleeting moment of peace, he rested against an old tree and placed a shaking hand on the side of his hips; Azrael's claw-like gauntlet had torn through him, and the gash it had left was now dripping blood onto the leaf litter below, advertising his movements to his opponent. He needed to change strategies, a fist fight wouldn't cut it. 'Stick to the canopies, keep him at a distance,' he resolved. But this was the middle of Outcast territory and he was out here all alone with no back-up. 'Restrain him, then move on out.' The last thing he wanted was to run into The Pirate himself, or worse, the Speedster.
Weighing his options, Needham climbed the nearest tree, and perched atop a branch near the top. Minutes past, and as he sat planning his next move, something caught his eye; he hadn't noticed them at first, but he could now make out a set of deep claw marks leading up the tree bark. Not like Azrael's gauntlet; these were an animal's judging by the space between each claw. Like a dog's, or a-
Oh no.
Or a cat's.
Needham turned around; sat on a nearby branch, was a man clad in black, his emerald eyes glinting in the moonlight, his slit-like pupils contracting. A mouse's tail hung from the man's drooling mouth, still wriggling. A sickening crunch of jaws breaking through bone accompanied the rodent's death squeal; its' tail hung limp, then was sucked behind the man's slobber-stained lips.
Needham looked at the man, then at the ground below; Azrael was closing in on him now, as though his glowing sword was guiding him through the woods, towards the 'sinner.' Desperate, Needham gave The King a non-verbal plea. 'We don't have to fight, just pretend you can't see me.'
But the King could see him. And with Azrael growing closer still, his night-time patrol had just gotten a whole lot more interesting. He raised his clawed hands, and with a swift stroke, slashed apart the branch Needham was sat on; deciding he wasn't going down alone, Needham grabbed the King's tail on the way down, dragging him with him.
The branch hit the ground first. Then Needham. The King landed on all fours; typical; then scampered off, disappearing into the thickets and shrubs of Arkham East. Needham gathered his scattered thoughts, then looked up, his worst fears realised: Azrael was dragging his sword along the frozen ground; orange sparks fizzled and lit up the darkened clearing.
Needham rubbed the dirt and drool off his person, and staggered to his feet, fists raised. "Fine. Was never a good Christian anyway," he growled, firing a web bomb at Azrael; pinning him to a nearby tree. But Azrael was relentless, with his free hand, he gripped the handle of his sword; webbing that would normally bind multiple men, came away like silly string with a single sword stroke. Needham checked his belt; he was running low on webbing. Shit.
Azrael lunged forwards and getting a lucky shot, scratched Needham's shoulder; the mystical blade shone brighter than before; the single cut incapacitating Needham as images of Linda, Mikey, Ferris filled his head, drawing on his guilt and pain.
'That was it.'
Before Azrael could perform a killing strike, Needham webbed his sword, using all his strength to wrench it from the man's hands; the blade landed in his hands, and as Azrael ran forward, Needham drew the sword upwards, cutting through Azrael's chainmail.
Bright, cleansing light burst from the shallow gash on Azrael’s chest and he fell forwards, the Pirate's influence subsiding at last.
Exhausted, Needham stumbled back. "Hhn. I'll be Damned."
==Gotham Shipping Yards==
On the other side of the city, a hooded figure in a purple costume sat atop a large shipping container, her legs dangling off the side; Stephanie Brown was holding a cracked pair of "Clue" goggles in her hands, something that should have been in the Hall of Justice, alongside all the other Supervillain tech recovered from Nanda Parbat. 'So what was it doing all the way out here?' She removed a card from within the broken spectacles and plugged it into her own mask.
Tim's head peered down from the container above hers, his face lined with worry.
"Your dad?" he asked, recognising the damaged goggles.
Steph nodded uneasily. "Yours?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
A bloodied boomerang dropped to the floor, rattling off the corrugated metal surface. "Yeah," he sighed, jumping down to join her. As they together in silent contemplation, a high pitched melodious voice called out to them from below, its' owner's red and black cape blowing in the winter wind:
"Robbie and Spoiler sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g. First comes love, then comes marriage. Then comes a baby in a golden carriage," the Psycho Pirate sang, clapping his hands along to the beat. Tim extended his bo-staff, as both him and Steph leapt into action, landing on the ground beside Hayden. "You had a baby didn't you, Spoiler?" Hayden pointed with a frail finger. "And you gave it away. Oh, well. That's probably the best thing for it. Imagine Granddad Cluemaster taking your child for ice cream. I bet he never took you for ice cream."
"Steph, I've got ear plugs," Tim reached into his belt. "Steph?"
"His father did," Hayden tittered. "His father cared sooooooo much. Didn't want him playing dress up. Didn't want him getting hurt. But he didn't factor in a boomerang to the jugular, did he, little Robin?
"That's why you resent him," he addressed Spoiler. "That's why you hate him. That's why you want to stomp his face into the ground."
"Steph..." Tim grit his teeth, watching as Spoiler's body stiffened, as her fists clenched and she began walking slowly towards him.
"Steph, Steph, wait wait wait wait wait!" Tim pleaded, his bo-staff at the ready, hoping he wouldn't have to use it.
Beneath his golden mask, the Pirate grinned, and then he was gone, carried off by a cloud of yellow lightning.
Tim covered his face, awaiting the onslaught, then... Steph slapped him. Not hard, not maliciously, just a painless tap on the shoulder.
He looked up, a confused expression on his face. "You- You're not trying to kill me?"
She slapped him again, a little harder.
"Course not, I love you, you dummy," she smiled, removing the card from her mask and placing it in Tim's palm. "Guess Dad was good for something after all."
Tim examined it, a geeky smile taking hold. "A neural blocker, nice! But, then, why the act-?"
"Had to play along," Steph explained. "Zoom would've stepped in if I didn't."
==Gotham Waterworks. Outside==
Cassandra Cain was perched on a cliff overlooking the ISA Headquarters, snow sliding down her black cowl, her eyes narrowing. Damian had been gone for a couple of minutes now, and she could a faint voice carried by the wind:
"Raised by assassins. Trained to kill. It's the same story, isn't it? Your story. So why does she get preferential treatment?
You know why.
Because he can look her in the eyes and not be reminded of his failures."
That voice... Melodious. Childish. Sadistic. It was Hayden's and from the sounds of things, he already had Damian. Cassandra kept her guard up, but outwardly, acted as though she suspected nothing was wrong. Until he drew his sword:
"I am the blood son! By all rights, I am his heir! And I shall not be usurped!" he spat, launching himself high above her head.
A single nerve strike took him out.
From a rocky alcove around the corner, The Pirate's pale eyes watched, a slight twinge of dissatisfaction coming over him. But it was nothing compared to the disappointment that took hold of him once Zoom ran in front of him, cutting 'playtime' short.
"We're leeeeeeaaaaaaaving," Zoom hissed, his suit stained with a mix of blood and cranberry sauce.
"That's not fair!" Hayden crossed his arms petulantly. "You got to play with the Misfits!"
"Thisisnot up for debaaaaaaaaate, Mr Haaaaaaayden," Zoom warned, and taking hold of his arm, they vanished into the night.
===GCPD. Outside===
Nightwing and Red Hood's fight had dragged onto the streets below; Dick bounced off the alley walls, using his acrobatics to get the edge on his younger brother; Jason favoured brute strength, having almost exhausted all his ammunition; he hurled a grenade at Dick while he was swinging from a ladder on the fire escape, knocking him down. Dick threw his baton; it ricocheted off the nearby garage door, hurtling towards Jason; he caught it, but didn't account for the charge; Dick pressed a button on his gloves, and a blast of electricity blinded Jason. Jason discarded his red helmet, and while distracted, Dick tackled him. Jason, elbowed him in the face, then grabbed a mix of snow and gravel from the pavement and tossed it in Dick's eyes. Disorientated, Dick flinched, giving Jason the opportunity to trap him in a headlock.
Before he could choke him out, a long black car pulled up to the alleyway. Jason's eyes narrowed as the car door opened and an impeccably dressed man exited, holding a two-barrelled shotgun, and firmly closing the door shut behind him.
"That is quite enough, Master Todd," the man warned.
Jason's featured softened. "You won't shoot me, Alfred," he scoffed.
"Of course not. You're as much my sons as Master Bruce's. Fortunately, I won't have to."
Beneath him, Dick headbutted Jason; stunned, he toppled backwards; Alfred dropped his shotgun, and tossed Dick a sedative from his medical bag, and Dick anaesthetised him. Jason growled an apology as he regained his senses and slumped over unconscious in Dick's arms.
"Sorry, bud," Dick apologised, before turning back to Alfred. "What now?"
"You can start by helping me escort Master Jason into the backseat. Then we are getting you patched up, Master Dick."
"Alright," he laughed in response.
Behind them, a large shockwave emanated from within the Police Department; the windows blew out, and glass shot outwards onto the street; Dick shielded Alfred with his body as shards of glass littered the pavement.
"Bruce was inside-!" Alfred gasped, rising to his feet.
"I can't raise him on comms," Dick frowned, his own worry subsiding once he caught Alfred's expression. "We'll find him, Alfred. What do you need me to do?"
Alfred ran his hand through his thinning hair, as the SAS agent in him took over. "I have an EMT uniform in the trunk, quickly now,"
==Sionis Penthouse. Downtown==
"-explosion from inside the GCPD. Three prisoners are unaccounted for, including Drury Walker. Commissioner Gordon has been rushed to Gotham General and a spokesperson has said that he is now stabilised. Reports say both The Batman and The Joker were inside the precinct when it-"
"Sir, we found it," Li chapped politely at the door.
Sionis muted the TV. "Good. Send 'em in."
The Sea Fox entered the room, dripping seawater onto the varnished floor. Two of his henchmen trailed behind him, carrying a large fish net.
"Well, you get points for presentation," Sionis murmured, sticking his hands into the net, and retrieving the sea-battered mask of Harlan Combs. Combs' head, fell out the bottom, and rolled across the ground.
Sionis' beady red eyes tracked the head as it rolled underneath his dresser. "Li?" he sighed.
"Yes, sir?"
"Get the cleaners in here."
==ISA Headquarters==
Chuck awoke to Flannegan prodding his arm with the base of his staff. He was lying on a bed, in some kind of hospital wing. As he looked around the room, he realised that 'laboratory' might have been more accurate; noting all kinds of jars, vials and half dissected animals.
"What happened?" he asked at last,
"Long or short answer?" Flannegan grunted.
"Short, please," Chuck sighed, clutching his thumping head.
"You got your asses kicked."
Chuck rolled his eyes, resting his head against the plump pillow, undoubtedly filled with Thanagarian feathers.
Flannegan inhaled a puff from his cigarette, then stamped it out on Chuck's bedsheet. "Fortunately, the Lizard of Waverly Place patched you up. Mind, you do look a little greener 'round the gills... Did ya have gills before?"
"What?" Panicked, Chuck shot upright and ran his hand along his mercifully smooth neck.
"Joking! Those two-" he nodded to Ten and Bridget, watching from the side with relieved faces, "-had just come back from whatever bible studies class they were at. They're the ones that called me. Luckily, I was already in the area."
"You mean you were in the sewers," Chuck realised, taking a gulp from the glass of water beside him.
"I do."
"God, it's all such a blur..." Chuck explained, resting his forehead in his hand. "We were in the kitchen, Gar came in trying to rouse us all, then Zoom, and- Drury! Joker was on the TV, he was-"
Flannegan placed his hand on Chuck's shoulder with surprising tenderness, and right then Chuck knew. He didn't even have to say the words: "I'm sorry, Brown."
===<???>===
The hallway was enveloped in scarlet light, as a round portal tore through the stale air. A single figure, dressed in a red cape, black tuxedo and a large square helmet stepped through. He ran his hands along the wallpaper and picked off a thin layer of dust; his excited breaths echoing behind his camera-like mask as he took in the surroundings. The house had been abandoned for months now, but most of its' furnishings remained. And the pictures. Oh, so many pictures.
As he walked, the lens opened and closed, the action accompanied by a loud "shutter" noise. He propped the nearest door open, the floor below him creaking as he entered the pink-coloured bedroom. He cast his eyes over to the bed, almost entirely covered by stuffed animals of every genus. His gloved hand wandered over one such bear, his mask making that same loud "clicking" noise. Then, something else caught his eye; a selections of photos on the corkboard on the farthest wall, their edges brushed with glitter. Oh, he did so like photos.
The next room, could only be the bedroom of a teenaged boy; untidy, its floor littered with old comic books and gag jokes. The man frowned as he peeled a plastic mound of fake dung from the base of his shoe. Continuing on, he shifted the pillow to one side, discovering a single photo below; a picture of a blond boy and a dark-haired girl; the boy he knew, of course, but it was the girl he was drawn to. It was her. The thespian's little scene partner. Beneath his mask, he smiled, as he tucked the photo inside his breast pocket and continued into the next rooms; a large bedroom with an empty aquarium, a pre-schooler's bedroom, complete with a purple and orange racing car bed, a fifth bedroom with a small workbench and scraps of purple and yellow fabric.
This pattern continued as he went from room to room, his helm clicking as he collected a portfolio of photos. He next entered the guest bedroom; a cream coloured room marked with grey scorch marks, with a collection of DVDs stacked beside the television, cult classics mostly. Out of curiosity, he picked one of the cases up, his stance stiffening as he recognised the film: Dread Castle. An anger taking hold of him, he tossed the plastic case to the ground; the silver disk slid out, then he shattered it with the base of his foot.
As his mission drew to a close, he at last found the master bedroom: He took a whiff of old perfume from a half empty bottle on the dresser, he rubbed the yellow strands of a blonde wig peaking out the top drawer. A single moth fluttered out of the large, wooden wardrobe on his right. Then, he crouched under the bed, clutching the hem of his cape as though he were curtseying, and unearthed a battered, dusty shoe box from below. Bingo.
He did so like photos.
With the mild temperatures, this seemed just the right place to take in a sunset and listen to the sounds of the trees moving with every passing breeze or birds singing away. Definitely a wonderful bookend to a day. So while part of me wanted to capture an image that brought out light across the entire setting I was looking, I decided to focus and meter on the clouds off in the distance above the South Chelan Mountains. I could then pull out a little bit of light in the nearby balcony area, but I wanted to feel as if it was just a little bit silhouetted.
Shot after a long hike up the Lilienstein in the Saxon Switzerland. It rained and rained and rained. It rained so hard, that it was even not possible to take a shot because of instant rain drops on the lens. This was shot holding my lens down to the ground, lifting it up with hyperfocal distance and pressing the button without knowing whats in the frame. :) Quite satisfied with the result. ift.tt/2cgftuS via 500px ift.tt/2xrw2yE
I've lived in Kent all my life a yet strangely this weekend was the first I'd ever heard of Botany Bay and the first time I've visited Deal Pier. I wonder what other gems Kent has waiting for me.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ROqTa1mn_qc
最痛的距離
是你不在身邊 卻在我的心裡
The most painful distance is that you are not next to me ,..
But in my heart
© All rights reserved Anna Kwa. Please do not use this image on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit written permission
Visiting the nature reserve today away in the distance we could see something green, we walked a while to check it out and found an old train coach just sitting there with its wheels sunk into the mud, I'd love to know the story of how it became to be there and why, bizaree indeed.
Forvie National Nature Reserve is on the Ythan Estuary on the east coast of Scotland approximately 16 miles north of Aberdeen.
The stark beauty of empty sand dunes is complemented by the call of Eider ducks, wafting like gentle gossiping across the Ythan estuary. With the constant shifting of the dunes, layers of history have come and gone, revealing the half buried remains of a twelfth century church.
The Sands of Forvie is a nature reserve north of Newburgh in Aberdeenshire in the northeast of Scotland. Forvie
National Nature Reserve has the fifth largest sand dune system in Britain, and the least disturbed by human activity.
The dune system is an integral part of the Ythan Estuary and separated by the estuary from Balmedie beach. The reserve contains large areas of sandy foreshore, mobile and fixed dunes, dune pasture and lowland heath and the successional development of vegetation. The sand dunes are of various stages of evolution and contain marram grass (Ammophila arenaria), red fescue, (Festuca rubra), crowberry, (Empetrum nigrum), the cross-leaved heath (Erica tetralix), common sedge, (Carex nigra), marsh pennywort (Hydrocotyle vulgaris) and the invasive creeping willow (Salix repens ssp. argentea).
The reserve contains the largest breeding colony of eider duck in Britain and an internationally important ternery.
The area is designated as a Special Protection Area for wildlife conservation purposes. The reserve is managed by Scottish Natural Heritage. Stevenson Forvie Centre near Collieston provides information on the reserve.
The sands were the site of the village of Forvie that was abandoned due to drifting sands.
Forvie was active in World Wars I and II, although very few details are recorded on the use of the area. It was incorrectly claimed there was a nine-hole golf course from 1900 to the outbreak of World War II. The course built for Lady Cathcart in 1900 was on the west coast island Uist.
The layout of Forvie and Newburgh could be mistaken for the mouth of the River Don in Aberdeen. With this is mind, defences were put in places around the mouth of the Ythan.
These consisted of pill boxes, two gun batteries and anti-tank blocks built by the 143rd Pioneer Corps. From a review of vulnerable beaches from April–October 1941, Forvie appeared on this list and was identified as "blocked with mines". The minefield ran from East to West (WO ref 31/521474 to 538472).
These were British Type C land mines weighing about 65 lbs each. Following a clear up of the area in July 1944, a number of landmines were unaccounted for due to the shifting sands of the area. Mine clearance altered the area slightly as the Bomb Disposal Unit from the Royal Engineers used a converted Bren gun carrier (known as a wasp) as a flamethrower to scorch vegetation on the mined area. Records show on some days 222 mines being dealt with, the actual mine count is unknown but the area took several months to clear. on 27 July 1944, Sapper Harry Dean (28) of 11 coy, Royal Engineers was killed whilst clearing a mine at Forvie. Sapper Dean is buried in Yorkshire .
minefield start / end from Royal Engineers file in TNA - Kew
Forvie sands was used to train the Gordon Highlanders and Highland Light Infantry in desert warfare, in addition to this Forvie Moor was used to train soldiers in the use of grenade, anti-tank grenades and 2" trench mortars. Since the war, mortar bombs have been found across the moor. Craters are still visible in the area. The soldiers training at Forvie were billeted at the Slains Lodge and buildings in Collieston.
On 3 November 1940, 30 High Explosive Bombs were dropped on Forvie Links by the luftwaffe. This is listed in the Aberdeenshire Civil Defence register, however little evidence exists that this occurred. No craters or patterns indicating a bombing run can be seen.
Whilst soldiers were training there, the moor were off limits to locals. However on Sundays, the locals could use the moor. During this time, locals collected birds eggs to use as food was rationed, and there was a plentiful supply of rabbits. On Sunday 30 November 1941, three local boys found an unexploded anti-tank grenade in a rabbit burrow that the army had been demonstrating to the home guard. One of the boys (Alex Ross), then threw it away where it exploded causing him to lose sight in one eye.
On 31 March 1941, the British steamer Melrose Abbey ran aground. On 2 April 1941 she was hit by a drifting sea mine blowing a large hole in her side, and settled on the Ythan river bed. During this time, a machine gun was posted at Forvie Sands to offer some protection for the vessel whilst plans were made to move her as she was a target for passing aircraft.
The ship was refloated on 26 July 1941 and towed to Aberdeen for repairs. She was later sunk by U-356 on 27 December 1942 north-east of the Azores. Several websites confirm this sinking, but this disagrees with the information in the reference below, which states that "As for Melrose Abbey, she was released from the Royal Navy in May 1945 and returned to her former owners, the Associated Humber Lines." The second reference may help to resolve this mix-up of ship names.
Beside the pill box of Forvie, two mobile naval 4" guns were places and controlled by 942nd Defence battery.
On 26 January 1942, the SS Lesrix, which was carrying machinery, ran aground off Hackley head during a blizzard. Locals in the community aided in the rescue of some of the crew, although ten crew members were lost. A bronze medal for gallantry was given by the King to one local for his part.
During patrols on the beach and cliffs of Forvie, a dinghy was found and this sparked a search for a spy that had been landed by submarine. This spy was caught in the moray area. It was rumoured that Tillery house near Udny had fascist sympathizers, where spies and airmen were told this was a "safe house" during the war. Since there were also Norwegian army personnel in the area who patrolled the beaches, the coast guard and home guard were issued with passes to identify themselves to the Norwegian soldiers.
In 1948, the Forvie area was earmarked to be a bombing and artillery range for the Royal Air Force and Army, as a site further north than the existing area at Lunan Bay near Arbroath. Forvie was to be used for air to ground and dive bombing practice. This involved a gunnery range out at sea and an rifle range on the moor. This proposal was cancelled in 1950; records exist in the National Archives on the proposal.
Join the wonderful world.
fabriziomusacchio.com/blog/socialdistancing4
#Fujifilm #fujifilm_xseries #X100V #streetphotography #35mm #cologne during #covid19
Because of social distancing, the way I take photos has changed. I tried to go either early in the morning or late at night to avoid the crowds. In addition, I have to do some researches ahead to find some spots that are not well known to the others so I can keep my distance away from the others.
Hope everyone is well and safe from the virus... :)
Location: Vancouver, BC
Approximate Focus Distance : 5.69m
Canon EF EF100-400mm f/4.5-5.6L IS II USM Lens
ISO Speed 800
Aperture : f/5.6
Exposure : 1/40 secs
Focal Length : 400mm
I got my Instructor (NYIP) Unit 1 critique... so happy with everything!. Here are the pics and comments from my Instructor...
* Hyperfocal Distance - Nice shot. Excellent example of landscape. Didn't quite use the hyperfocal the front is out of focus but front the middle back is sharp. The flower is a great peace in the photo. Not a big deal but there should be a point in the frame where I should focus that is the optimal point to get everything else in focus. Overall is nicely put together. Beautiful exposure and smashing picture. Good set of pictures I sent.
FP4+, shot on a Kiev 4A with a JUPITER-8M 50mm f/2.0.
Developed in a not-quite-dark darkroom and "scanned" using the combination in the EXIF data.
@2021-2099 Copyright Rudr Peter. All rights reserved under the International Copyright laws. This picture and portions of this image should not be used in any print and electronic form without permission from me.
It's been two weeks since my latest encounter with a stranger.
Today I was lucky to run into another lovely stranger, Nina 26y/o, and her 11 months old dog, Mökö.
They were walking around my favourite bay in town in my opposite direction.
I approached her from a short distance by asking in Finnish what was the matter with her dog.
She detected instantly my accent, haha, and answered in English.
Nina wanted to hear a bit more about my photo project-- obviously it hasn't been too flowing lately due to that nasty Corona virus-- I briefed her and she agreed to participate.
Nina has graduated a couple of years ago and is working for the time being in an IT company.
We talked about the situation in the USA, mainly racism, and when I asked her for a message Nina said:
"Believe in the good in people!"
I sure want to believe and to hope that racism will be uprooted once and for all and that the black people in America will have justice.
"A riot is the language of the unheard", Dr Martin Luther King said in 1966. More than five decades have passed since and still America has failed to heard them.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_K0BWXjJv5s
Nina's advice to her younger self: " Be proud of yourself!"
In her free time she likes to practice yoga and sports.
Needless to say that Mökö is her biggest hobby :-)
This is my 815th submission to The Human Family group.
Visit the group here to see more portraits and stories: The Human Family