View allAll Photos Tagged FUTILE
And I'll share this... my message from the Universe... for you this Valentine's Day...
"One of the best ways to nourish your soul is to seek out and do the things that totally absorb you in happiness, things that call to you...things that you are naturally good at and things that fill you up.
It's important to balance your life with the things that MUST be done AND the things that we do simply because of the JOY that comes in doing those things.
We will be better at everything that we MUST do if we take time to do what we LOVE to do.
Please don't get sucked into the falsehood that taking time to nourish your soul is selfish and futile. It is ESSENTIAL. It doesn't take anything away from anyone..it only adds to the goodness that you already have inside of you."
Go do something you love today... just for you.... because you deserve it!
I usually don’t go to the café when it is hot. That day was hot, 91F - 33C. The problem isn’t sitting there drinking coffee in the heat. The problem is drawing in the heat. My hand sticks to the paper and drops of sweat fall to the paper. This unfinished drawing shows the problem. It was futile. I left.
I've seen many pictures of this ancient place, read many books about it, and seen many documentaries. None of it prepared me for the awe I would feel when I saw it with my own eyes. The scale of the place is huge, and the setting is fantastic. Trying to do it justice in a photograph is almost futile, and even a pano as wide as this will only give you a hint of what it is like to be there. Go if you possibly can!
Useless
Sadness, regret, momentary joy, or happiness—they're not from outside, but from within.
These are emotions that reflect our own unfulfilled desires.
Peaceful..
Everything else is useless
What makes me wonder...
But how worthless …
My own heart, which had been drawn to worthlessness
meets reality
and is disappointed
and must turn away.
Even though we know it's futile, we are foolish enough not to quickly abandon our own unfulfilled and vain hopes.
Spending all of your youth.
Without any intention to offend anyone for the state of some houses, this series of ugly images is my desperate, probably futile attempt to save the architectural heritage that is already in such a state that her salvation is gone.
Got this shot of this Large White Cabbage Butterfly on my walk around the Ballintemple Coillte Tree Nursery a few days ago. It is surprisingly difficult to photo a butterfly as it bobs and weaves on it’s merry way in rather rapid movements. So delighted to get this one after many futile attempts.
Dipper (Greater Manchester)
0600.29.09.2020
I am sure for some, a dipper image, might be a welcome relief from Black Redstarts...but be warned there are more Black Reds to come and the images will look nothing like the ones I have shown here this year:-)
I do not have a car so getting to places in the country can be a little difficult. A week last Sunday, a two-bus journey and a long walk would take me to a nice spot for riparian species. Sadly the world and his dog goes there too. My first attempt was futile...I saw no dippers (my target species) though I did see a mink catch a grey wagtail. Sadly nothing on camera but a juv waggy for my efforts. I was a little harassed by the fact that everyone and their dog enjoyed the same spot and I had to put up with rocks and sticks being thrown into the water over my head. I was told by others that the dippers had not been seen that day so I returned last Sunday. This time I took a pair of wellies to escape the crowd and I found a nice secluded spot. When you are already carrying two heavy bags ...wellies become a big ask! Anyway, after a total of 10 hours sat on my arse, I got what I was looking for...I will be returning again and I hope yesterday's rain was not enough to swell the river to make it impossible to locate these delightful, enigmatic and hardy birds. It would be nice to get one in some light!
It's a languid evening, an evening where nothing happens
No wind, no rain, no mist, nothing, absolutely nothing
The sweltering evaporation of the lake hangs around you like a clammy warm blanket, making you sweat annoyingly and the droplets slowly slide down your forehead
There is no wind and bored some sailing yachts in the distance lie dobbing in the water, because without wind no progress
Two ducks scurry around hoping to find some more food and a cormorant has been sitting on a pole to dry its wings for hours
But the poor stumper does not realise this is futile, as it is languid, hot and clammy........
It is languid, hot, clammy, nasting, sweltering and I hope I can catch some sleep soon........
From the not yet existing series "Modern Anthropology". One LED daylight lamp and one LED spotlight; edited in Fuji's raw converter and refined in Luminar.
Nikon F2AS
Zoom-NIKKOR 35~70mm f/3.5 AI-s
Kodak Yellow filter
1/500 sec@f/11
Kodak Tri-X
Continuing the series of "ugly" pictures with the same comment:
Without any intention to offend anyone for the state of some houses, this series of ugly images is my desperate, probably futile attempt to save the architectural heritage that is already in such a state that her salvation is gone.
Emerald Isle, NC
Full Spectrum Conversion
Hoya R25A Filter
After the hurricanes of the last few years, a lot of sand was lost from the beaches of Bogue Banks. So the town and the Feds are pumping sand from a hundred yards out back onto the beachfront (you can see the dredge just offshore in the center of this photo). Sea oats have been planted in an attempt to stabilize the resulting dunes.
Taking the longer view, this is a futile effort with the prospect of rising ocean levels and increasing storm intensity and frequency. Eventually we will have to abandon the current beachfront, and allow the island to migrate inland. If we don't, the island will drown...
For more info: coastalcare.org/tag/orrin-h-pilkey/
“You can waste whole lifetime
Trying to be
What you think is expected of you
But you'll never be free.”
- Mark Pistel & Phillip M. Steir
To absent friends … stay safe, be well and go in peace
Soundtrack : www.youtube.com/watch?v=sRTXnAxlxTc
GONE FISHING – CHRIS REA
What will I do the next time when someone deserts me
will I be like I was yesterday
now so far already in the distant past
will I weep silently in the dark
for myself or for the loss of you
and then move swiftly on,
my sails adjusted; pressed aft against my mast
or will I dwell on life's misfortunes
as I used to do so long ago
perhaps you had good reason
to let me fall so suddenly and yes, you were so brutal
perhaps it was to protect me
perhaps it was to spare me; save me from it all
still it wounds and blood seeps from the cuts
and spills onto the rough-hewn wooden floor
seeps through the gaps into the darkness of the earth
It is not for me to reason why
people choose to come and go;
that is the way of life and then we die
some stop to teach me all the wisdom that they know
some stop to learn from me before they too must go
everything is transient this much is what we know
life, love, good fortune and bad luck
it is futile to try to duck or to cling on to a boomerang
just because of fear of letting go lest it won't come back
that is why I mostly leave an open door
rarely do I shut the door and throw away the key
but even then all is not always lost
as long as words we say are less not more
and if a lesson's learned or taught and we are true to core
then maybe some day you will curve your swerve right back to me
Until then our paths remain divided as you chose
to carry on without me, but like a rose
that blooms so beautifully in Spring and through the Summer
then sheds it's soft and velvet petals to enrich the earth
lays dormant and decaying throughout Winter
until it will come into bloom again at it's rebirth
stronger and more beautiful than the Fall
the ending led once more to new beginnings
and like the sweetest briar rose
and the phoenix from the ashes
I will begin once more to rise above it all.
- AP - Copyright © remains with and is the intellectual property of the author
Copyright © protected image please do not reproduce without permission
My artwork is a compilation of 2 of my photographs.
The storm has passed, receded into nothingness
The raging surf beat on the mighty seawall, but the sea has lost again, and only a few puddels recall its presence a few hours ago.
The whipped up sea has come to gestures and the now calm surf ripples at the bottom of the dike, as if the sea is licking her wounds from its futile assault on the seawall.
The ancient coastal light at the bottom of the dike is the only whitness to the futile attack, and she hoped for yet another victory of the mighty sea dike, for if it lost it would be swept away in the churning mass of water.
A gentle breeze came up and yes, the birds began to chirp again as if relieved that the storm had died down........
As I headed up Goatfell with full kit at around 5pm, people were giving me funny looks as if to say I was going the wrong way, blue skies and hot sun, I was hopeful I would at least get sunset, every time we (dog) stopped the midges would attack, the only thing that made me feel better about this was Skah's solution to the problem was to stick his face in where the midges actually lived, I don't need to describe the results of his futile efforts, so it was a relentless climb only stopping to wash the sweat off my face at the bridge, tent pitched at about 7.30, and with only a few red deer for company, I was in my element with coffee on the go, then this happened
so to all those people that give me that, where are you going? look, on the way up and the where have you been? look on the way down, It wasn't me going the wrong way!
I've been wanting to try and capture water drops for awhile now, but without an external flash I thought it would be futile. I decided to give it a go anyway with the lighting I had and I was quite happy with how it turned out.
Closeup Of Old World Swallowtail (Papilio Machaon), 04-2023, Ticino, Switzerland
My most recent bird video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=EvVNEYPfFtU
If you're interested, you can find my best photos here: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/ticino-best-photos-of-southern-...
THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO:
When I was a little boy, the butterfly in the photo above was an almost mythical creature to me. It was so rare, that I seem to remember most people I knew excitedly shouting "A SWALLOWTAIL! A SWALLOWTAIL" if they happened to spot one, and we kids would come running for a chance to see this unicorn of the insect world with our own eyes.
Granted, for 5-year old me "most people I knew" probably consisted of my parents and siblings plus a few kids and the kindergarten teacher, but what is certainly true is that unlike with more common butterflies, a visit from this elusive beauty would not go unnoticed and rarely unmentioned. The swallowtail was important - I knew that much.
A couple of years later, when I was maybe six or seven years old, I learned that the swallowtail belonged to the family of the „Ritterfalter“ (that is the German name for the Papilionidae) which translates to „knight butterflies“. Now this new knowledge really fueled my imagination: so the swallowtail was a knight!
There were only three butterfly species present in Switzerland that had been granted a knighthood - the other two being Sir Scarce Swallowtail and Sir Apollo - and since the (old world) swallowtail was the most beautiful, it was certainly the most valiant and probably sat at the head of the knights’ table; heck, in my mind it was practically the Sir Lancelot of the butterfly world!
Now you might chuckle at the notion that this insect - which may seem like "just another butterfly" to people who live in countries with a large and colorful insect fauna - made this much of an impression on me. But such exotic looking creatures (ANY exotic looking animals) were practically non-existent where I lived.
I grew up in a very rural area of Switzerland outside the city of Zurich during the late seventies and eighties, and although things would get worse in the 90s (before they got better in the 2000s with the boom of organic farming), intense agriculture had already taken a terrible toll on the biodiversity of the open grass land around our little village.
Most crucially for the swallowtail, the once abundant wild carrot - which is the plant the caterpillars of Papilio machaon most commonly feed on in northern Switzerland - had nearly disappeared from our fields and meadows, so the species relied on fennel and carrot plants in private vegetable gardens for its survival. Sadly, those were few and far between, and by the time I grew up, the swallowtail had gone all but extinct in our area.
My desperate attempts to help it out and lure it into our garden (well, mom did all the work by planting carrot seeds at my insistence) remained futile; regardless how meticulously I searched every plant, to my great disappointment I never found a single caterpillar nor even so much as a tiny swallowtail egg.
But there was one place where I could rely on encountering this rarest and most gorgeous of butterflies - and also many other fantastical creatures that were the stuff of legend for the little nature nerd I was (well, I guess still am 😊 ). This was a magical place that lay on the other side of a gigantic mountain, and it could only be accessed through a dark tunnel that would go on for miles and miles and miles (ten, to be exact).
One could enter in winter and come out in spring; on one side there might be snow several feet high while on the other side warm sunshine would illuminate lush green fields that, after a further 30-minutes drive in the family car, would give way to gardens with palm trees.
This was a fantasy land from a fairy tale, where people grew peaches and lemons and figs in their gardens, giant beetles grew antlers like stags, snakes grew to a length of six feet, and colorful lizards basked on the walls of peculiar and ancient looking little stone houses, while exotic seeming insects and spiders (and even scorpions) populated the fields and forests.
This place (as you might have guessed) wasn't Hogwarts: it was Ticino, the Italian speaking southern part of Switzerland. And since it lay on the other side of the Alps, we would usually drive through the 10-mile (16.9 kilometers) Gotthard road tunnel to get there, and it was indeed quite common that there would still be snow covering the north entry in early March, while on the southern end of the tunnel spring had already arrived.
I knew that this land of seemingly endless sunshine was where my grandparents had grown up, but to little-boy me it might as well have been Hogwarts (although the Harry Potter books obviously hadn't yet been written back then 😉 ). Driving to Ticino through this endless appearing tunnel was nothing short of a trip to another world.
What further added to the magic was that our vacation home was a several-hundred year old "rustico" (that's what the ancient, traditionally built stone houses are called in Ticino) that was located like some long forgotten stronghold in the midst of a wild, jungle-like forest in a remote area of the Verzasca valley. The place - which belonged to my uncle (who never went there) - was completely off-grid and had its own power supply from solar panels on the roof and fresh water from a nearby spring.
With no neighbors around that we could bother - and armed with a deep trust in fate (which was kinda typical for the "baby-boomer" generation) that we kids would neither fall from a cliff, drown in the river, get bitten by a venomous snake, get lost in the woods, NOR go feral and start a savage little Lord-Of-The-Flies style cult - our parents let us roam free.
To me this meant I went exploring the untamed nature around me for as long as there was daylight. I wanted to know and see every creature that lived in the area; it was like going on a gemstone hunt. And the bounty would always be plentiful: there were snakes and lizards and stag beetles and mantises and giant caterpillars of hawk moths to be found, but the big price - the crown jewel if you will - was the swallowtail.
For here the "winged knight" still ruled supreme, and even though it didn't exist in large numbers, I would always find at least one a day on some little meadow in the forest. Because swallowtails are so much bigger than the more common butterflies, I could easily spot it from afar, and just like the one in the photo above (taken in my garden in Ticino this past spring), I would usually find Sir Papilio Machaon sipping nectar from the flowers of red clover.
These swallowtail hunts in the wild Verzasca valley were marvelous adventures (though in hindsight they were probably more than just a little dangerous), and to this day they're among my favorite childhood memories.
A lot has changed in the nearly forty years that have since gone by; parents who let their kids roam free all day long in untamed forests are certainly a thing of the past in Switzerland (my own generation seems to have a hard time letting their kids go ANYwhere unsupervised - except perhaps for the internet 😉 ). But what has remained the same is my fascination with these gorgeous insects.
And there's some good news: I'm happy to report that the swallowtail has bounced back a little in many parts of northern Switzerland. It's still one of the rarest butterflies, but nowadays I consistently find the cute, characteristically striped caterpillars on the carrot plants in my parents' vegetable garden year after year, and every once in a while I'm even greeted by a "winged knight" in person when I take a stroll across the fields and meadows of my youth.
As for Ticino; well, I now have my own little house there (also a "rustico", but in the less remote Malcantone region) with a tiny garden attached, and every year I make sure to do everything in my power to accommodate Sir (or Dame) Swallowtail on my premises (also read: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/post/how-to-attract-a-swallowta... - and with great success I might add :-)
During the warmer months, this gorgeous Papilionidae species regales me with its knightly presence nearly every day, and I still make a run for my camera each time I get a visit - even though Sir Lancelot of the butterfly world is a nightmare to photograph.
Knighthood or not, this is one nervous fella that constantly jumps and flutters around on the flowers he likes to visit, which tends to drive a certain (now fully grown) nature nerd and wannabe-photographer to the brink of insanity on a regular basis.
Thankfully though, by now my neighbors are used to the (embarrassingly frequent) frustrated shouts and bouts of swearing coming from my garden (I imagine them just rolling their eyes and saying: "Great, there's a butterfly in his garden again..." 😂 ).
And with this (as always far too lengthy) anecdote I'll leave you for now and say goodbye to 2023:
😊❤🎉💕 - HAPPY NEW YEAR my friends!!! - 😊❤🎉💕
All the best - and the best of light - to you in 2024 and beyond! And as always: let me know what you think in the comments (even though it will take me a while to respond, but I promise I will). 🙏 😊 ❤
Mount Tamalpais State Park, California
The sun has set below the coastal fog, but the western sky is still glowing. We see the silhouettes of california bay laurel trees and of a few people walking the trails, official or not, on the grassy summer slopes of Mount Tam. The low fence is a futile attempt to guide people along the desired trails.
Introduction
AImighty God's words:“The Fate of Humanity and the Fate of the Universe Are Inseparable From the Creator’s Sovereignty”
www.holyspiritspeaks.org/gospel/fate-inseparable-from-Cre...
Almighty Godsays:“Where you will go every day, what you will do, who or what you will encounter, what you will say, what will happen to you—can any of this be predicted? People cannot foresee all these occurrences, much less control how they develop. In life, these unforeseeable events happen all the time, and they are an everyday occurrence. These daily vicissitudes and the ways they unfold, or the patterns by which they play out, are constant reminders to humanity that nothing happens at random, that these things’ ramifications, and their inevitability, cannot be shifted by human will. Every happening conveys an admonition from the Creator to mankind, and it also sends the message that human beings cannot control their own fates; at the same time every event is a rebuttal to humanity’s wild, futile ambition and desire to take its fate into its own hands. They are like powerful slaps about humanity’s ears one after another, forcing people to reconsider who, in the end, governs and controls their fate. And as their ambitions and desires are repeatedly thwarted and shattered, humans naturally arrive at an unconscious acceptance of what fate has in store, an acceptance of reality, of the will of Heaven and the Creator’s sovereignty. From these daily vicissitudes to the fates of entire human lives, there is nothing that does not reveal the Creator’s plans and His sovereignty; there is nothing that does not send the message that “the Creator’s authority cannot be exceeded,” that does not convey the eternal truth that “the Creator’s authority is supreme.”
from “God Himself the Unique III” in The Word Appears in the Flesh
Image Source:The Church of Almighty God
Terms of Use: en.godfootsteps.org/disclaimer.html
A great deal has been said about the Decisive Moment captured time and time again by Henri Cartier Bresson but not as much has been said concerning the Indecisive Moment...and, let's face it...we all have many more indecisive moments than decisive ones.
While it's important to make decisions, it's also important to think through them and be careful..to make sure it's doing what's right when you dedicate yourself to an action or a choice. Determination is futile if it leads only to regret.
So, let's hear it for those Indecisive Moments and for thinking through things and being conscientious and careful humans.
Photo taken in Ghent, Belgium
**All photos are copyrighted. Please don't use without permission.**
“There is an ocean of silence between us… and I am drowning in it.”
― Ranata Suzuki
Soundtrack : www.youtube.com/watch?v=scTDEj0yYUQ
FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE – MATT MONRO
I cannot sleep
I walk the street
deserted now and Winter bleak
the Beast strike two sweeps from the East
from Russia with love
and Scandinavia sends me the sweetest dove
that sings so beautifully in first light
and tugs my heart strings makes me fight
against the darkness that has silenced me
the icy grip that will not set me free
will you walk one day in my shoes
and I will walk one day in yours
reconvene as midnight strikes on the hour
settle up outstanding scores
no I didn't think so ...
these wounds are more mine than yours
I don't doubt that you have suffered
but this does not detract
from this haunting melancholy melody
that plays upon the loop on a single solemn track
my tears freeze on my cheeks as I give way and mourn
and wandering silently I try to weather this latest storm
I can hear you wondering what is she saying now
but I took a vow of silence and once upon a time somehow
the circle of life goes round and round
it spins and turns and hits the ground
running here and running there
finding nothing no-one cares
people live their lives in drifts
to speak out loud won't heal the rifts
each to our own and own your grief
as I own mine and place a wreath
upon the frozen snowbound land
and reach out for an invisible hand
I still feel the warmth where once
a loving hand that was yours held mine
before this day and love grew cold
and squeezed the warmth from all the sunshine
devoid of all my spent emotions
I trickled back to whence I'd come
the house where I just go through the motions
waiting is so futile for you'll not be coming home
now all the world begins to waken
and I at last fall into bed
my mind is slowing my thoughts are leaving
oblivion takes me and cushions my emptying head
and when I wake for just a moment
I won't remember anything
the time between my sleep and waking
is the most precious time I think
where child-like innocence still exists
and adult worries are cast aside
I wish that it could last for longer
so I don't have to run and hide
now is the calm not before but after
the storm that is named as Mr Darcy
and pride came first before the fall
and the prejudice against me was the wrecking ball.
- AP - Copyright © remains with and is the intellectual property of the author
Copyright © protected image please do not reproduce without permission
Nod to Todd Hido (thanks Dan! : 0))
Continuing the series of "ugly" pictures with the same comment:
Without any intention to offend anyone for the state of some houses, this series of ugly images is my desperate, probably futile attempt to save the architectural heritage that is already in such a state that her salvation is gone.
Continuing the series of "ugly" pictures with the same comment:
Without any intention to offend anyone for the state of some houses, this series of ugly images is my desperate, probably futile attempt to save the architectural heritage that is already in such a state that her salvation is gone.
An image from 2015 taken at Grassington, North Yorkshire:
There was something quite exhilarating and mesmerising about being stood in the middle of the footbridge across Linton Falls. The River Wharfe was in spate and the noise and spray coming from the falls was significant. However, transferring the experience of this to a stills image is futile in terms of sharing what it was like to be there. I opted instead for the opposite effect – portraying the falls in a long exposure to create a feeling of serenity.
Il treno della ghiaia sulla linea asm, che circolava da Siselen-Finsterhennen a Sutz e ritorno tre volte al giorno fino a dicembre 2021, è già stato presentato su questa pagina. Il 1. Settembre 2021 è per me ora di una nuova visita sulla linea, nella speranza di raccogliere i soggetti desiderati. Uno di questo è la partenza del treno proprio dal binario di raccordo della Hurni AG, cliente al quale veniva fornito il materiale trasportato. All'arrivo a Bienne la mattina, una perturbazione dell'esercizio sulla linea mi fa preoccupare, ma si rivela poi futile per il mio programma. Ecco quindi la prima delle tre partenze giornaliere verso sud.
Der Schotterzug auf der asm-Linie, der bis Dezember 2021 dreimal täglich von Siselen-Finsterhennen nach Sutz und zurück fuhr, wurde bereits auf dieser Seite vorgestellt. Am 1. September 2021 galt für mich, die Strecke erneut zu besuchen, in der Hoffnung, die gewünschten Motive zu sammeln. Eines davon ist die Abfahrt des Zuges vom Anschlussgleis der Hurni AG, dem Kunden, an den das transportierte Material geliefert wurde. Bei der Ankunft in Biel am Morgen beunruhigt mich eine Betriebsstörung auf der Strecke, die sich aber später für meinen Zeitplan als harmlos erweist. Hier ist also die erste von drei täglichen Abfahrten richtung Süden.
In a somewhat futile effort to escape the midge attack by the reeds, I moved towards the derelict boat shed. Looking back towards the new 'version' the low sun was now casting a warm glow and the stilling breeze made for some pleasing reflections. The midge onslaught was relentless however and was once more forced to retreat - this time to the 'safety' of the car some 20 minutes’ walk away.
On our travels yesterday Steve and I came across a waterfall that dozens of salmon were attempting to jump to continue their journey upstream to the spawning grounds.
Sometimes there were as many as 8 salmon airborne at once, we were mesmerised by the spectacle and spent far too long watching or trying to photograph the futile attempts of the salmon.
The river level was high, and I think the volume of water was as much of a problem as the height they were trying to clear. Many of the fish were jumping at the rock face and there were plenty of mid-air collisions too.
DARK HELL
They live in the dark hell,
It's always their best cell,
It's the heaven for them,
They reside here with all the amenities of darkness,
They whisper among themselves in their own way,
When the enlightened traveller reaches there with his great intention,
They remain far away from him,
As they become afraid of his enlightenment,
The educated traveller tries his best to communicate with the inhabitants of the dark world,
But all his efforts prove futile at the end,
He realises the harsh difference between light and darkness,
He returns with an empty hand.
ANJANDEV ROY Sunday, April 18, 2021
Ice plants bloom in the spring and into early summer. It is used as an erosion control. The West cliff area of Santa Cruz, Ca is covered with this plant as it is helping to keep our sidewalks and roads from eventually sliding into the ocean. It is a futile effort but a noble one at best.
The graffiti writers keep coming. Anyway, this building originally hosted a true horse and buggy company starting in the 1890’s. It’s abandoned now.
It's been almost 10 months since I last tripped the shutter on a DSLR or DJI product. Call it boredom, call it stagnation, whatever the case may be I decided to focus my efforts to something other than railfanning.
A recent trip to south western British Columbia to do some mountain biking (one of those "other" things) also allowed for me to finally get trackside. CPKC surprisingly provided some interesting movements, one of which leads me to this image and following story.
On the wet afternoon of July 10th 2023, CP 6304 East rolled along the Cranbrook Subdivision with a healthy train of loaded ballast hoppers. The crew informed the RTC (dispatcher for you Southern folks) that they were having a tough time climbing the grades west of Sparwood.
A decision was made to have the crew continue on to Crowsnest where they would end their long day. Four miles east of Sparwood is where I met up with the 6304 East, making a blistering 8 miles an hour in a driving rain.
A few miles east, the crew informed the RTC that the would soon have to stop their train as the traction motors on the pair of SD60's were running in the red for too long.
After stopping the train and letting the traction motors cool for a required 20 minutes, the engineer made valiant but futile attempt to get the train to move up the grade.
Yet another decision was made to have a crew from Sparwood run a set of light power east to tie onto the rear of the 6304 East and shove the train up the hill to Crowsnest. At this point, darkness had moved into the valley and with the crew of the 6304 getting short on hours, I left the scene.
Final Score Mountain 1,Management 0
Flower Dreams @ Swank Sept All styling and LM here arielleinwonderland.com/2021/09/18/resistance-is-futile/
by Laura Matesky. Please do not use this or any of my images without my permission.
“Always say “yes” to the present moment. What could be more futile, more insane, than to create inner resistance to what already is? what could be more insane than to oppose life itself, which is now and always now? Surrender to what is. Say “yes” to life.
Doug Harrop Photography • June 4, 1986
Mr. Harrop stepped outside of his eastbound work train briefly to capture this compelling view as crews dump rip rap to shore up the SP causeway at Strongknob, 50 miles west of Ogden, Utah.
Little did Southern Pacific know, this effort would be futile as a series of big storms would arrive in days that would destroy this and 11 miles of track, closing the main line to through trains for 77 days.
Job 21:34 “So how can you console me with your futile words? Nothing is left of your answers but deception!”
Justice Minister John Crosbie said this in 1985: The public does not realize that we already have had a revolution in Canadian society. The adoption of a charter was a revolution. It has changed the whole power structure of Canadian society. It has taken tremendous power from governments and given it to the courts of Canada, the Supreme Court of Canada, which is not widely realized. Not only can they strike down our laws now, but they say they can challenge policies adopted by Cabinet and so on. Therefore, we are in a whole new legal environment in Canada. There has been a revolutionary change.