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Twenty four hours of rain is enough to drive any sober man crazy, but that didn't stop me from trying to stay sane. It was the kind of night where I lIke my coffee in a shot glass, and my whiskey in a coffee cup. There's no glory in this, but I'm not a man looking for accolades. Accolades are for dead men at their funerals. As long as the whiskey bites I know I'm on the green side of the grass. It's not enough to keep me dry, but it's enough to keep me wet in all the right places.
Need a soundtrack? Here ya go:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-pY4tbfGq6M
Image imagined in MidJourney AI and finished with Topaz Studio 2.0 and Lightroom Classic.
Between the L-glass windshield and an Alaska-sized light package GP40-2 3006 is enough to warm the heart of any Espee man! And while she looks like she'd be right at home grinding tonnage up Tehachapi she has called Alaska home since rolling off the erecting floor at La Grange in April 1975.
Delivered in this scheme but originally numbered 3000 she became 3006 not long after delivery. For 44 years and counting she has continued to move freight in the Last Frontier just like in this shot on the point of a long 120S headed to the barge connection in Whittier.
Portage, Alaska
Wednesday November 15, 2017
One day there will come a time when I will look back and smile proudly, "because I was able to get through a difficult time in my process"
thanks to my sweet brand from TANAKA for this awesome [TNK] TNK SATORU AND SUKUNA outfit set and [TNK x TRV] - EXECUTOR BLADE: FROSTBITE
THE WAREHOUSE SALE - EVENT: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Rotten/127/110/23
trevor mainstore
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/ALEGRIA/59/128/630
tanaka mainstore
As I cycle further up Glen Lochsie before making the real climb to the summit of Glas Tulaichean, this small burn (or stream) tumbles its way through the heather. But time is ticking and in these winter months daylight hours are limited so let's push on.
Glas Tulaichean is my 5th Munro of the season and the 28th in total, bringing me to a Munro completion rate of near enough 10%. The mountain stands at 1051 meters (3448 feet) and is the last one I will do as I have now moved away from Scotland and back to my roots in South Yorkshire as the pull of the Grandchildren was just too strong.
Can we ever get enough? I have thousands of Coyote shots, but every sighting is different. I saw this coyote from a hundred yards away, hesitating at the side of the road. I stopped. It took a long look, then crossed, trotting across a short stretch of upland prairie before disappearing into a gully. And I thought, "Maybe I can follow him - he won't expect that!"
And so I trotted toward the edge, angling to intercept him based on where I thought he might go next. I know the terrain here. The many small gullies all lead to a large, flat-bottomed coulee, the entire landscape cut by ten thousand years of meltwater and wind, with only animal trails to show you the best route to take.
Sometimes I guess wrong, but this time I guessed right. The white-and-blue slopes, cloaked in thin snow and the heavy stillness of winter, were suddenly broken by a moving brown form directly in front of me. As I raised my camera, the coyote turned to look back. It didn't break stride. It didn't panic. Kept on moving, purposefully, You can see one back leg in the photo, lifted, and imagine the diagonally opposite front leg, also lifted. All fluid motion, and the glance back at me was only that - a fleeting look, probably tinged with surprise, but nothing more. It did not break stride. The four-legged ones can cover ground faster than us bipeds, and without another thought it bounded upslope and disappeared into the vastness.
Now, there have been past encounters where a coyote has walked right up to me - seriously - I don't make this stuff up. But I'm happy to take what is offered, even if it's just a brief glance in my direction. I accept it as a gift, albeit unintentional. Off he went, and I turned back. Sometimes a single photo is enough.
The winter wildlife series continues tomorrow...
Photographed in Grasslands National Park, Saskatchewan (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2024 James R. Page - all rights reserved.
This shot got pulled from sexy wednesday on nexus...... for not enough cover.... not sure why even.....
Red-tailed Hawk with his wings full lol !
Thank you very much for your kind comments, favorites and looking and please stay safe !
It was turning into one of those indecisive mornings. “Shall we go and lounge by the pool and read until lunchtime, and then head down to the beach? Or will we get in the car and head off for the day?” Neither of us could make our minds up. It’s often like this, and until we close the front door, we could be heading anywhere between fifty yards away and the other end of the island. It’s part of what makes us so fascinating, and no doubt would drive anyone else unfortunate enough to end up in a long term relationship with either of us to the edge of their senses. All things considered, it’s a good job Ali and I found each other. Neither of us seems to mind when one asks the other what we’re going to do today, only to draw a distant gaze and a blank response.
If anything, I’m a little more driven than she is, and so I made the call. “Right, we’ll go back to that place in Femes for lunch, then we’ll go and visit one of the bodegas at La Geria, and after that I want to go and walk up the red mountain for sunset” – that’s Montana Colorada by the way. “Ok,” came the predictable response. And so we had a plan; a nice simple one that didn’t require too much thought or too much driving. We’d drive up the mountain pass from Playa Blanca to the village of Femes that sits on the saddle, and the rest of the day would follow as planned.
Except that it didn’t. 12:30 we agreed was a bit early for lunch, and so we drove in the other direction and headed for a menu del dia at the place we’d stumbled across in Teguise a few days earlier. And just to make things interesting, we decided to go along the main road rather than the wine route, just to have a bit of a test run for that inevitable drive to the airport just over a week later. “It’ll be faster” I reasoned. It wasn’t, especially after a couple of wrong turns, one of which almost had us heading into the jams of Arrecife, the island capital. Eventually, we arrived at a dinner table to be served by a very harassed looking waiter, whom it seemed was working solo through the busy lunch hour. As he unceremoniously thumped our drinks onto the table and feigned no interest whatsoever in our opposing views on the inclusion of tuna in our ensaladas mixtas, we wondered who’d thrown a sickie and left him in the lurch. After the meal I was too frightened to ask for coffee as well, and spent the next twenty-five minutes looking for another establishment to replenish the caffeine deficit. The first such attempt found us hastily evacuating our seats, scarpering around a corner and tracing an elaborate circuit of the town after Ali had seen the price list. Six euros for a scoop of ice cream? Not on your Nellie!
Some time later, happily refuelled with coffee and ice cream we sat at a bench in the church square. By now it was some time after 4pm, and with less than two hours until sunset we considered the options. At the far end of the island, just another twelve miles or so away lay the Mirador del Rio, offering a classic view of the three small islands that fan away from the northeast corner of Lanzarote, while retracing our tyre treads down to the coast would bring us to the wreck of the Telamon, a long exposure magnet that lies a few yards out to see between Costa Teguise and Arrecife. Tentatively, we set course for the former, where the road rides up to its highest point on the island between Los Valles and Haria. And still several miles short of our target, as we sat at a layby gazing down at the white coastal villages of Punta Mujeres and Arrieta far below, we changed our minds again – and then furthered the endless mystery of our final destination by missing the turn without signpost that was supposed to take us to the Mirador del Risco de Famara.
As you can see, the error turned into what Bob Ross would call a happy accident. Finally, somewhere around five, we ended up here, at the lonely and altitudinous Ermita de las Nieves. Quite how often there’s ever been snow here, even at this distance above sea level I’m not sure, although I did need to put my long sleeved top on over my tee shirt to brave the last hour of daylight on this late November afternoon, as a fellow visitor from France told me his wife was very jealous of my telephoto lens. The view across the volcanoes that dominate the landscape over to the west from where we’d come was, well you can see for yourself can’t you? Even before the golden hour, it seemed evident that we were going to be in for a show, as layers of cloud allowed sunbeams to filter through and light up the spaces in between the distant cones. For an hour I watched from behind the long lens transfixed, as the colours deepened and the sunbeams bounced and weaved their way into ever more epic frames. As the sunbeams moved, I continually followed the drama, recomposing and focussing as quickly as I could keep up. It’s not often that I get to spend time in a landscape like this, and certainly I’d never seen a sunset sky such as the one we were witnessing now in the mountains. Eventually, the sun having disappeared for the day and the magic leaving centre stage almost instantaneously, I headed back to the car with an enormous grin on my face. The day of sliding door decisions had given us the best possible outcome with a sunset we’d never forget. It’s a good job we’re not that great at making our minds up, or we’d have probably missed it.
Storm. Had a nice run yesterday, 5 below zero.
She doesn't much like to take breaks on the trail. Gets a bit impatient with me and the camera. Always frosts up way more than the others, must be something about the way she breathes. She usually frosts up her running partner too.
We were lucky enough to be snowed in during our stay in the Baltimore Harbor. From our room we could see the water freezing over, and snow on the ground, but that doesn't stop the city of Baltimore. Business as usual.
Appropriately enough this replica of a statue of Saint Theodore, Patron Saint of Venice, Italy, is located at the Venetian in Las Vegas. It faces out towards the entrance to the building and is placed high on a large Roman column. Theodore was a Christian Roman soldier in the 3rd century who would not worship the pagan gods and was martyred as a result. He is holding a large spear and shield and is standing on a crocodile which is said to represent a dragon, symbolizing his ability to vanquish evil. Grabbed a shot from behind while passing through in the late afternoon. Here's a companion shot taken later that evening: flic.kr/p/2p6hgbG
🎶Listen long, long enough you can love me. I’ll be just yours, you can hold me. Even let you undress my mind. Save it, play it, watch it then press rewind. I can give you what you need. I can give you what you need. I can make you feel. I can make you feel. I can make you feel alright. I can make you feel alright. I can make you feel alright.🎶
Creds: Chyna Frakture / CapturedMemories Photography&Art
A shot taken almost 46 years ago to the day uploaded for historical value. And, if you're lucky enough to have the space to model Trent Station back in the 1950s / early 1960s with plentiful 9Fs, 8Fs, Duck 6s, Jubes, D1-10 Peaks, Sulzer Type 2, etc etc, then this image just might be helpful.
In the distant past known as Long Eaton Junction Signal Box, this structure controlled the line to Trent Junction from Attenborough / Nottingham, as well as the by now lifted line to Erewash Junction and Long Eaton station, the track bed of which is still visible curving right under the flyover-line bridge a couple of hundred yards away.
Long Eaton station closed in January 1967 (at which time the name was transferred to the then Sawley Junction station), and presumably the curve from just here to Erewash Junction was lifted shortly afterwards.
Along with so many other signal boxes in the area, its final ignominy came in 1969 with the commissioning of Trent Power Box. However, unlike many of the other redundant boxes which saw swift demolition, this one soldiered on as the Meadow Lane Crossing Shunting Frame for several more years, its role simply to open and close the crossing gates over Meadow Lane.
Advances in camera technology finally made it redundant when control of the crossing was passed to Trent Power Box, and the structure was demolished.
Trent Power Box itself was closed in 2013, after 44 years of service, and control passed to Derby Signalling Centre.
For local road users, delays weren't too bad when this shot was taken but, with the much more intensive contemporary timetables, train frequency has significantly increased. So, if you live on this side of the tracks, your only way out by car is over this crossing - and hearsay suggests the barriers can be down upwards of 40 minutes in every hour. Ouch :(
Agfa CT18
12th March 1978
I haven't cried in years
But eyes are damp.
There's so much I've wanted to say
For what seems like so long
And maybe I never will
Enjoy the season
and your loved ones
(And your movies)
May you feel blessed
Because you are.
~~
I don't like Christmas. At all. But I thought it would be interesting to try and create this iconic scene.
Featuring
⇨ Blog: suegeelidecuir.com/2018/02/25/strong-enough.
⇨ Liziaah Emma Dress at Designer Showcase.
⇨ Kosmetik Crave Black Nail Appliers .
⇨ FB Page: https://www.facebook.com/StyleItUpSL 👍
More Credits
Catwa Catya Head.
Maitreya Lara Mesh Body.
Moccino Maria Skin.
Insol Dark Eyes Series at Kustom9.
Truth Hair Carla Hair (groupgift).
POUT! Toxic Spill Black Lipstick and Stellar Eyeshadow.
Astralia Scorpion rings at N21.
SEmotion Modeling Bento Pose at Sense.
Foxcity KPop Star So Cool backdrop.
We were lucky enough to get a good glimpse of the blood moon yesterday. All set up by Slot Loevestijn, a dutch castle
With the almost perfect silence around we could always hear the roar of the snow plows long before they would pass by. So I had enough time to jump up and get ready to capture its passage clearing the road from the fresh snowfall during the night. I LOVED those moments; the drivers of those plows appear to be tough cookies, we met some on the (narrow) roads and they wouldn't flinch nor move a millimetre to the side so sometimes we almost ended up in the deep snow to the side of the road :p :D
Lisa is difficult to photograph, as she doesn't care for my flash and often lowers her head. She's four years old, and was rescued from the streets of Christiansted, St. Croix, U.S. Virgin Islands.
one proud Mama Mallard with her 8 ducklings crossing the trail we were walking on...talk about melting your heart :)
Thought I would try a more iconic pose from Granada. I hope I have added enough spark to give it a fresh taste. Otherwise, as always, I have added in a narrative so you can wander through history from a different Point Of View.
On the shoulders of southern Spain is a Fortress that once ruled with supreme confidence. The kings believed that nothing would change as long as they were alive. And then one of them died and everything changed.
Now the fortress and palace are a walking garden for people with enough footprints to get there.
The proverbial flies on the walls have also passed on and so there really are only rumors of stories left to tell of this great kingdom and the daily lives of people who lived and prospered there.
I only know these stories from a direct descendant of a gnat who sat on the wings of a fly perched on the wall where a king and queen shared court with legends of old.
Some other direct descendants are still living so I cannot reveal everything the gnat told me but I can tell you this ... It was all amazing!
For instance, one Friday the eldest son walked past the jaguar fountain in the courtyard and asked his mother "Will I be a good King?"
The mother thought for awhile and spoke wisely "It really is up to the gnat on the fly's wings on the wall to know for sure...but I believe if it is written in the stars it will be so! " She smiled sweetly but he did not feel so self assured.
Years later, he did become King and breathed a sigh of relief.
But as many kings, he finally had to let go when the winds started blowing from the Northwest and new owners bought the property and asked him to leave.
It is rumored that he sat at this perch for many days looking back at his home and meditating on the amazing journey of his life and his temporal loss. Eventually he packed up his caravan and relocated to Morocco where he lived a prosperous and fruitful life but he was always the most proud of the beauty his family created with this grand monument.
When I came here, a few years later, I did not feel like a King nor a gnat on the wings of a fly on the wall. But I did taste history in the meal I ate on this same terrace and I can still smell the sweet scent of wisteria rising up in the heat and hear the breezes rustle and crackling leaves in the trees like a gnat dancing on the wings of a fly playing flamenco on the walls of the golden palace listening to conversations and passing it along to the next generation.
No matter what anyone says, History tastes better when it's warm and the view is hot!
One of my attempts at the "Macro Mondays" theme "Pick Two"
Chosen Words:
CURVED BASKET
Shot with an "Tomioka-Copal 75 mm F 2.8" (enlarging) lens on a Canon EOS R5.
I feel like this is overwhelming, almost.
like there's too much going on.
(and I'm not just talking about the photo).
inspired by Tessa's double exposures and blue tones :)
And please click here, you'll be glad you did, if you haven't already. Maria is one of the sweetest people I've ever met and was one of the first to take an interest in my photography. I can't thank her enough for her support, it means the world to me :)
It's a gloomy evening as CN no.399 grinds out of the Humber River valley with two CN-painted IC SD70's and a CSX AC44 with about a mile of freight on the headpin. While snapping these frames, I could hear the hogger shifting his train out of dynamics and into power as more and more of his consist hit the grade.
The train was short enough that I got the whole consist in frame.
Full moon night. But moonrise about two hours after sunset. So just enough time to capture some stars. Guess the glow on the horizon is left over from sunset. Amazing how long it takes to completely disappear. Probably longer than two hours. Of course it would be nice to think it's the Aurora Australis. I doubt that.
Processing technique:
9x 15s ISO640 14mm F2.8 images.
1. Open as layers in PS
2. Mask out the land and copy mask to all;
3. Group into "sky" group;
4. Duplicate that group and make a "land" group;
5. Auto align the nine images in the sky group;
6. Delete all the masks in the sky group;
7. Convert to smart object;
8. Blend-mode Median;
Now do the land group: invert the masks and do same as above.
Finish by blending the two groups together.
Per quanta bellezza io cerchi nel nostro piccolo pianeta, io non riesco mai a saziarmene completamente... è una sete implacabile che si alimenta ad ogni sorso di luce.
Quattro minuti dopo il tramonto, Gran Baie, Mauritius
#beauty #tramonto #sunset #barche #mare #sea #ocean #indian #luce #light #lagoon #colors #mirror #calm #flat #mauritius
A lone Canada Goose isn't quite big enough to hold his own among the larger and more numerous Sandhill Cranes in the background at the
Monte Vista NWR, Monte Vista, CO