View allAll Photos Tagged Faintest
Along the Colorado meander in Page, AZ, the Horseshoe Bend. If you even have a slight vertigo, like me, please stay a bit away from the edge, there is a sudden fall of several hundred feet. It was a bit windy that only added to my fear of getting blown away towards the edge. I used my tripod to get a bit more balance and to relax my fear shaken knees. But people around me were like monkeys or may be they have some hidden wings that come out if they slip as they were hanging out. All this for a cool selfie! Very irresponsible to your own life. I wonder what the tombstone might read -lost balance and fell off a cliff! Not a good way to go!
Coming back to this marvel, its a must see place if you are in or around Page. Just a small 0.75mile trail (a bit of a hike while coming back). Absolutely marvelous and will take blow your mind when you will first see it up close. While walking down towards it you will not have the faintest of an idea of what it would really looking like until you are at the edge! Its like a Taj Mahal hidden below waiting for you to find!
Hope you will like it! And be careful when you visit!
As I told you all a coupe of weeks ago (see my Where the thoughts have no name) I have recently unearthed a folder with an Autumn sunrise session taken at a precious location in November 2017 - a magic place I love very much. To give a contest of the situation I am quoting below from the text accompanying my A wordless dialogue, the only photo from that session I uploaded at that time.
[... At last] I resorted to my favourite enchanted garden - a small, peaceful corner of land along the valley of the river Adda: just downstream Lake Como, just before the river enters the Padan Plain - a handful of meanders and a plot of wetlands where secret, ancient words spiral in the air along with the breaths of the river and the earth.
As the sky was slowly brightening a dense, shapeless mist rose from the river - a precious feature of the location, but... well, it looked too dense that morning. Every hint of detail was engulfed and nullified by that milky, glowing nothingness. However I shot a lot of bracketings, faintly hoping that in post-processing (thanks to the raw magic of RAW files) I would be able to make something emerge from that apparent nothingness. But, believe me, it was a bit frustrating - quite a poor day to seize, as an impudent voice kept repeating in the back of my mind.
The sun was already climbing above the horizon, largely ignoring both the frustrating blanket of fog hovering over the river and my little feelings about it - and lo!, suddenly the world was emerging all around me, like the restored backup of a long-forgotten dream. [etc.]
This bracketing has been captured as I was merely trusting the magic of raw files; silent ghosts of mist were wandering all around me, whispering secret words, and only the faintest glow was suggesting that the sun was rising, after all.
I have obtained this picture by blending an exposure bracketing [-1.3/0/+1.3 EV] by luminosity masks in the Gimp (EXIF data, as usual, refer to the "normal" exposure shot). Raw files processed with Darktable.
As to Darktable... It is a really wonderful piece of software, but I am aware of my being still a novice; so I hope that somenone experienced in Darktable reads these words and can help me. When processing these raw files I have seen something emerge from a milky nearnothingness and all was perfect. I have exported the raw files, as usual, in TIFF 16-bits uncompressed format and... and now there were bands through the mist - especially in the underexposed shot; nothing like that in Darktable, though, just in the exported TIFFs... Any suggestion about this?
A Kestrel can and does hover in the dead
calm of sunny days,
when there is not the faintest breath
of wind.
He will, and does, hover in the still, soft
atmosphere of early autumn,
when the gossamer falls in showers,
coming straight down as if it were
raining silk.
- Richard Jefferies
It’s winter, and we’re reading,
You in a sofa corner,
Me out here on the frozen wash
water Wobbling at the rims of my eyes,
Yours reflecting off a cool, dark screen..
I blink to see in watercolour,
Brushing print to faintest grey
When 2 whoopers enhance the page
Rising, runny white, bleeding
and sort of staying on the same page/
I fold them in to show you soon.
Waves
•
One by one upon my shore
The little waves are laid
Each one a new and perfect thing
Which the Sea has made
From that which is forever old
They come forever young,
The latest, faintest echoes
Of the song the sea has sung
They echo it in whispers
I listen ceaselessly,
For fear the echoes die away
And I should hear the sea.
~ Louise Townsend Nicholl ~
Multiple exposure shot, merged in camera
Located in the Snowdonia National Park this picturesque valley and place of serenity has not always been so quiet. In 1886, the Prince of Wales (future King Edward VII) opened the Gorsedda Slate Quarry in the valley. The village of Treforys was built to house the quarrymen and consisted of 36 houses set in 3 streets. A sophisticated slate mill, Ynys Y Pandy, was also built to dress and finish the slate before being transported on a newly laid 3ft gauge tramway down to the harbour town of Porthmadog. But this flood of activity was short lived. After a short 20 years of excavation, the quarry was closed down as quality slate became more and more scarce. As the local paper reported, “everything that could facilitate the works was produced, nothing being wanting but the slate vein”
.
The empty shell of Ynys Y Pandy still stands at the foot of the valley. A stark, man made monument set against a stunning mountainous back drop. The remains of the village of Treforys is less apparent. A blanket of green has devoured all but the faintest outlines of that early, expectant community. The water of the lake that once fed a 26ft water wheel, the beating heart of the mill, is now still and provides a quiet oasis for fishermen and passing walkers.
Text source: www.dioni.co.uk/cwmystradllyn-the-most-beautiful-valley-i...
I am investing a great part of my domestic quarantine in rummaging through my archives to unearth some forgotten, hopefully worthwhile shot to process. When this bracketing resurfaced from a stray nook of my hard disk, it struck some chords deep in my soul (most assuredly my brain was somehow performing an on-the-fly processing of those rather flattish, unassuming untouched RAW files). For a fleeting, precious moment I felt strongly the heartwarming sensation to be free to hug and cuddle again my wife, Laura, albeit at some indefinite time when Covid-19 will allow us to relish such an invaluable moment. Please do not ask me why on Earth this specific scene stirred this specific emotion inside me, so I will not be forced to admit that I have not the faintest idea. Rather, allow yourself the freedom to feel whatever emotion this scene will stir in your soul. I have got my own gift. I hope that this picture will gift you with the emotion you need most.
This picture comes from a sunrise session at the beautiful meanders of the river Adda, just a handful kilometers downstream the Eastern arm of Lake Como, dating from April 2016. That morning I arrived at the location a lot earlier than the earliest hints of dawn, so I took shooting the river by night - admittedly a whole bunch of utterly worthless bracketings, at least until proven otherwise (never say never). And I did a thing I do only in exceedingly rare occasions: I raised my sensor gain to a maddening 640 ISO. Of course, being used to shoot at a constant 100 ISO, I foolishly forgot to restore the usual setting as the light was growing and took my precious exposure bracketings at such high ISO till 8:00 AM. As a result of this sloppy attitude I had to fight a monster amount of chroma noise (I viscerally hate it)*. I found no way to get decently rid of that noise by using the rich armoury of denoising tools offered by Darktable - quite possibly because of my qualified failure to set them properly in such a demanding situation. Luckily, by mere trial and error, I got an almost decent denoising using DFine 2 and blending the denoised images with the original ones by the LCh Lightness mode (hope that my memory is not deceiving me); this, rather suprisingly, allowed me to retain most of the details while taking the greatest possible advantage of the denoising itself.
Incidentally, this picture has a closely related fellow image in my photostream, Awakenings: the same location, the same morning, just taken some 10 minutes after this one, some 20 meters downstream - ah, and one of the handful of bracketings of that session taken at 100 ISO, after I realized my mistake ;-)
* I am afraid I am being a bit unfair here, because the worthy sensor of my Nikon D5100 is quite less noisy than those of many other APS-x sensor cameras (and the in-camera management of thermal noise on long exposures is really good). The problem is, the less light you get from your subject, the more noise you get in the sensor data, the ISO gain magnifying an unfavourable signal-to-noise ratio. Of course an early, partly cloudy morning shooting session neatly falls into that sort of context.
I have obtained this picture by blending an exposure bracketing [-1.7/0/+1.7 EV] by luminosity masks in the Gimp (EXIF data, as usual, refer to the "normal exposure" shot), then I added some final touches with Nik Color Efex Pro 4 and a selective bit of Orton effect as a final garnish to get the desired ambiance. RAW files has been processed with Darktable. Denoising has been a vexing issue; I got the best results by courtesy of good old DFine 2 and the Gimp.
Prospetticamente attorno ad una delle più luminose stelle del cielo, la stella multipla e variabile Gamma Cassiopeiae (γ Cas), chiamata Tsih o Navi, si trova la regione di H II (idrogeno ionizzato) conosciuta con la sigla Sh2-185, e al cui interno spiccano due nebulose catalogate con le sigle IC59 e IC63.
Pensavo che riuscire a fotografare questa regione fosse una cosa più semplice invece devo ammettere che la nebulosità più debole di Sh2-185 è veramente molto evanescente e la presenza di gradienti causati da Inquinamento luminoso ha complicato le cose; quindi sono stato costretto mio malgrado ad utilizzare con decisione i tool di denoise per ridurre il rumore.
Ma ciò che ha reso più difficile elaborare questa immagine è stata la presenza della luminosa Gamma Cassiopeiae il cui riverbero abbagliava una parte dell'immagine e attorno alla quale c'era un antiestetico alone penso causato da riflessioni all'interno del riduttore 0.6X.
Ciò malgrado penso di aver raggiunto un discreto risultato.
________
Perspectively surrounding one of the brightest stars in the sky, the multiple variable star Gamma Cassiopeiae (γ Cas), called Tsih or Navi, lies the H II (ionized hydrogen) region known by the acronym Sh2-185, within which stand out two nebulae cataloged as IC59 and IC63.
I thought photographing this region would be easier, but I have to admit that the faintest nebulosity of Sh2-185 is truly very evanescent, and the presence of gradients caused by light pollution complicated matters; so, against my will, I was forced to vigorously use denoising tools to reduce the noise.
But what made processing this image more difficult was the presence of the bright Gamma Cassiopeiae, whose glare dazzled part of the image and which had an unsightly halo around it, I think caused by reflections within the 0.6X reducer.
Even so, I think I achieved a decent result.
____________
Optic: APO Refractor Askar 103APO + 0.6X
Camera: ZWO ASI533MC-Pro
Mount: Sky Watcher HEQ5 Synscan
Seeing: 4 (scala Antoniadi)
Filter: Narrowband Optolong L-eNhance 2" + SVbony UV-IR cut
-199x180s 250gain/ 23dark /27flat /80 bias
-64x300s 250gain/ 35dark /27flat /80 bias
t° sensor: -5°C
Date: 2025-10-25, 27 + 2025-11-12,13
Integration: 15h 17m
Temperature: 16°C (media)
location for : Biancavilla -Catania-(Italy) 515m slm (Bortle 5-6) flic.kr/p/8AWHek
Acquisition: NINA, PHDGuiding
Processing: DSS, SIRIL 1.4, PS, GraXpert
This morning, the Rainbow Mountains took the rare opportunity to hit the snooze button, roll back over under a fresh blanket of snow, and nuzzle up against the sleepy fluffs of clouds -- without the faintest idea of the beauty of it all. :)
Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area, NV
When You Walked Past Me
I have stood here
for a thousand quiet nights
listening to footsteps
that were never meant for me.
But when you walked by,
your breath stirred the gallery air,
and my hair remembered
how to move.
A single strand lifted,
like a small hope waking
from a long, golden sleep.
I did not turn.
Canvas cannot turn.
But something in me
leaned toward you,
the part of me
that is not paint
but longing.
If you felt the faintest warmth,
if you saw the softest motion,
know this:
Some dreams
only happen
when the world believes
no one is looking.
"Wishing you my dear Flickr friends a peaceful day.
Thanks so much for all the love and kind words you sent for my humble work.
Your support and cheers mean the world to me.
Love
Emma"
Recommended monitor brightness: 90-100%
There are four notable things about this image:
1. It’s shot with a lens that opens as big as a hungry python. In my 30+ years of photographing this and that, this is my first f/1.2 creation. And I am hooked!
2. The star trail colors are real and barely enhanced. “Why don’t I see colors myself?”, you are pondering perhaps, referring to your own experience of visually inspecting the night sky. Well, to see the faintest light at night (dark adaptation), our vision uses rods–achromatic photoreceptors in our eyes that sense only light, but not its color (scotopic vision). So, stars seen with our own eyes appear just white (or lighter shades of gray). In reality, as seen here, they are like crazy poets. Very colorful.
3. The scene is lit by a stray distant car’s headlights (on foreground trees) and all the stars in the universe (minus the one closest to us).
4. I don’t blame you if the scale of this image is not immediately apparent. To 'scale it' however, if you are so inclined, notice the diminutive dot of light on the dunes under Mount Herard. That’s a photographer, likely shooting the same thing as me, but unlikely with a python.
Routin Linn Waterfall, Northumberland
All Togs know that the weather gods don’t always smile on us and in fact it’s possible to get equally great shots in most weather conditions if you can adapt to them. So on my recent trip to Northumbria I was sitting with a nice pint of real ale purchased from the pub that was part of the B&B (now that’s something I’ll have to look for more on Booking.com😀) interrogating the multitude of weather apps that are on my phone.
No matter how many of them I asked, the answer was the same…grey skies with the faintest chance of a bright spell here or there. I just could not get them to change their answer no matter how many times I asked. The forecast indicated it would be worth leaving Holy Island to later in the week and tide times were not great for some of the other locations I was thinking of.
A few years ago I’d have probably either not gone out or tried to ‘force’ the shoot at one of the ‘big’ locations but nowadays I think I’ve learnt to be able to adapt ….to a degree anyway. I’d spotted Routin Linn in the Fotovue book and dull grey days are generally made for waterfalls . With the decision made I sorted out my directions on Google having first identified what I thought was the recommended ‘parking’ spot then closed the book and weather apps to make sure I didn’t spill any of the pint!
After a very nice breakfast at the pub/B&B (can’t recal if it was smoked salmon & scrambled eggs or a full Northumberland cooked breakfast) it was off to find the waterfall. Having spent a few miles weaving around the inevitable potholes I pulled into the access track where the recommended parking was. At the site of the churned up deep ruts in the wet verge I shuddered and had visions of getting stuck with no-one around and no phone signal. Inching slightly onto a less damaged bit of verge I hoped I was far enough over for any agricultural vehicles to get past (they could cope with the mud that was the verge surely!) but not so much that I wouldn't have traction.
Wellies on, and all kitted out I set off remembering to take a walking pole as I’ve learnt the hard way that to get my old bones down to a waterfall would likely involved going down a path where the combination of erosion, rainfall and gradient meant I’d need the tripod and walking pole to have any chance of getting there on my feet instead of posterior!
As is my normal way with waterfalls I spent several hours experimenting with various compositions and shutter speeds. Focus stacking, bracketing and both. There are 4 shots I like of which 2 are colour and 2 are B&W. In the interests of not not dragging things out too long I’ll post them in 2 sets with each set being 1 colour and 1 B&W image.
Now I’m sure many of you will be thinking “well that’s all fine but what on earth has any of that got to do with your image title Steve?” Well it’s that in researching this location it’s apparent it’s very uncertain of how it’s name should be spelt. I came across various permutations of spelling including Roughting, Roughtin, Lynn and Linn.
Now OS has ‘Routin Lynn’ as the name of a nearby property but Google, What3Words and the Fotovue book have it as ‘Routin Linn’ so I’m gonna go with that!
As Mark twain said “Anyone who can only think of one way to spell a word obviously lacks imagination.”😂
I’ve tried to do some catching up on posts whilst I was away and since I came back but I fully expect I’ve missed so so if I have missed some of your images I’m really sorry.
© All rights reserved to Steve Pellatt. Please do not use this image on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit written permission.
Puglia generally has a cooling wind which makes the temperature bearable during the day. At night this drops to the faintest of breezes and results in balmy evenings.
Trullo is here: goo.gl/maps/UHsfy2ATym69CLnMA
Trullo Pervinca
Ceglia Messapica
Apulia
Italy
Colours of Torren - The secluded Torren Lochan with the impressive backdrop of Bidean nam Bian in very early autumn with just the faintest hint of the autumn colours that are yet to come.
The unexpected stillness was a real bonus yielding some super reflections in the water of the lochan.
Glencoe, Highland Scotland
Explore #4 09/03/2023
This was one of my more memorable mornings from Tombstone territorial park this past fall.
My friend and I had scouted this area the day prior, and knowing that tombstone mountain would light up on a clear morning, we decided to give this spot a go on our second last morning in this area. We got up extra early and strolled out to this spot in darkness. Completely clear skies - good for mountain light, bad for any atmosphere - crap. We were initially a bit disappointed but we picked our compositions and set up anyway. The mountain top starts glowing bright red as the sun breaks the skyline behind us, and as that light travels down the mountain face, we see the faintest hint of hot pink clouds peeking out from behind the mountain. At that point it became a race - “can the clouds keep up this colour? Are they moving into the composition? They are! Go clouds!” We stuck around happily clicking away for what felt like hours (but was actually probably only a few minutes) until the clouds overwhelmed the scene and blocked the light on the mountain face. Luckily, we had moments like this where everything came together for a few minutes.
There’s nothing like watching a scene come together in front of you after you’ve lost hope. I was on a high all day long after that! Thanks for reading!
As some of the most vital sensory organs among insects, it's no wonder that antennae come in a great variety of shapes and sizes to suit their various specializations. Here, a male Callirhipid beetle displays his extravagant feelers which are over half the length of his body. Like the feathery antennae of some male moths, this shape is designed to maximize the surface area to enable detection of even the faintest pheromones of distant females. However, unlike moths, these 'flabellate' (fan-like) antennae can be neatly folded away for protection when they're not needed, such as when the beetle is burrowing under bark or in rotten wood. Sarawak, Malaysia (Borneo).
Hidden in the cave’s silence, the panther waits, shaped by shadow and the faintest hint of light. I wanted to let the darkness speak first — to reveal only the eyes, the breath, the presence. A moment where the wild watches back, unseen until it chooses otherwise.
The British Camp surrounds the hill called the Herefordshire Beacon, the second highest summit of the Malverns and high enough to be classed as a mountain at 1,109 feet (338 m) high.
The fort itself covers a substantial area with a perimeter of 6,800 feet (2,100 m) enclosing an area of around 44 acres (18 ha).
Four separate phases of construction have been identified. The earliest fort was much smaller and is thought to date to the Bronze Age, around 3,800 years ago, but it was later much enlarged by two large spurs north and south. Evidence for around 120 circular huts has been found.
The camp's footprint looks like a large ribbon bow; the spurs forming the loops on either side of a smaller, higher ‘knot’ (from which this photograph was taken). This central section was probably reconfigured in the late 12th century and supported a small Norman fort.
In the far distance on the left is the milky blue escarpment of the Cotswolds, and just right of centre, and only visible if viewed large, is the faintest shimmering sliver of the Severn Estuary that divides the West Country from South Wales.
Please take some time to look at more of my photos
Part 23
We worked our way around Sky Blue Lake, until we reached the waterfall on the far side. Here we began climbing up until we found a nice flat spot free of rocks and boulders, with a nice view over looking the lake. It was here we set up camp, with the cascade of the creek only a short walk away. In the time it took us to reach here a haze had filled the sky and all the shadows vanished.
After tents were set up we explored up to the spot that I planed on photographing tomorrow at sunrise. It was this spot and this photograph that was my main goal for this trip. I had been here once before back in 2016 and had seen it briefly in passing. (here is the shot I took in 2016 flic.kr/p/LZZm1h ) I hadn't stopped because I was hiking with two others that day and Crabtree Lakes was their destination. flic.kr/p/2iz7rcR Since that day I have wanted to come back here and photograph this spot in better light, and because of it facing east sunrise would be best.
To reach it we had to climb up beside another waterfall, turn west following the creek until it became another waterfall. Here we had to leave the creek and climb up another corridor. At the top of that was the spot; a beautiful shear peak that in my option resembles a mini Mt. Whitney reflected in a crystal clear tarn. There were a couple other tarns and a lake nearby that I wanted to see, so we continued to explore deeper into the remote landscape.
We climbed over talus and glacial moraine fields until we reach a Z shaped lake with Mini Whitney towering high over the cold water. A red sun peaked through the hazy sky and it was then that we realized that the haze was a layer of smoke. After we spent some time at this lake we headed back to camp.
I now left Hester behind and explored on my own. During this time I reached another lake that I also wanted to photograph at sunrise, but if I did that we would have to spend a second night here. I stayed at this lake until sunset, hoping that the sky to the west would glow pink but because of the smoke it never did. Before it got too dark I headed back to camp for the night.
…
When dawn arrived I awoke and headed up to the spot that I had waited 4 years to return to. I found a composition and waited. The smoke had cleared since yesterday and only a small swirl of clouds hung over the spires of Mt. Corcoran to the south. The peacefulness of the mountains filled me as I waited patiently, excited that I would soon fulfill one of my goals.
The faintest pink glow appeared on the ridgeline just south of the peak. Slowly it crept down towards the spot I wanted it on, and then it faded. So I waited some more. Soon clouds rose over the sierra crest to the east and I was worried that they would block the warm rays of morning sun from illuminating the peak as I had hoped. That wouldn't be a problem though, because if the light didn't work out we would have just stayed here another night and I would have time to try again tomorrow. But soon the sun rays broke through and cast a warm golden glow on the peak. I took as many pictures with as many different compositions as I could as quickly as I could and then, just as quickly as the light appeared, it vanished again. I then took some time to review my shots and I was very happy with at least 4 of the different compositions. Soon the sun appeared from behind the sierra crest, it's warm rays upon my face.
I headed back to camp, overjoyed that I had achieved my goal.
This Is Not America - David Bowie, Pat Metheny Group
www.youtube.com/watch?v=bQOywVlakgM
This is not America
Sha la la la la
A little piece of you
The little peace in me
Will die (This is not a miracle)
For this is not America
Blossom fails to bloom this season
Promise not to stare too long
(This is not America)
For this is not the miracle
There was a time
A storm that blew so pure
For this could be the biggest sky
And I could have the faintest idea
For this is not America
Sha la la la la
Sha la la la la
Sha la la la la
This is not America, no
NS U86 ducks under the searchlight cantilever at Simon on NS's Guyandotte Branch in the final days of service. The legacy cantilever is of N&W origin but was retrofitted with Virginian SA searchlights when N&W modified the interlocking after the takeover.
When I made the mile + walk back to the signal, I had no call times, no information, and not the faintest idea when the next train would come. I decided I would bring a book and wait at Simon all day if I had to. Incredibly, just 45 minutes after I arrived, the sweet music of a GE 4-stroke 7FDL-16 motor and wheel squeal echoed through the Valley, and a WB coalie soon whipped around the corner. Crazy.
Unbeknownst to me at the time, the searchlights were up for replacement. The vertical section of the modern signal was already in place when I walked in, and the shiny rails on either side of the new rail shunt indicated a very recent construction. I would later find a large amount of staged equipment in nearby Baileysville.
The cut-over would happen just 10 days later, likely making this the among the last photos ever taken of the ancient signal.
Tariffs have reduced traffic on the Guyandotte to a trickle, and managing to get a train at Simon with just days to spare was a rare stroke of luck in a trip plagued with misfortune
From a shoot at Corfe Castle in Dorset last week. It took a little while, but eventually the ruins of this magical castle on a hill revealed themselves. It's an extremely surreal experience. Initially you see nothing at all, then the faintest of shadows, then little by little all, or part, is revealed. In fact it happened several times as the mist ebbed and flowed, but this was one of the highlights, as a multitude of "God's Rays" shone down on the scene.
Visit www.earthfocusphototours.com for full details of the 2019 workshops I'll be leading with Anne Strickland. Corfe Castle is always one of the locations we include on our Dorset tour.
Try as you might sometimes, it's hard to spend much time in Grand Teton National Park without attempting a sunrise shot of one or the other of the Moulton Barns with the sculpted reaches of the Tetons rising behind and reminding all of how inconsequential our human constructions are compared to such glories.
When I went out this warm June morning, I found clear blue skies with a just the faintest wisps of thin clouds drifting among the mountain tops before dissipating as they edged over the east side of the Teton Range. The clouds were too faint to catch any meaningful color before dawn, but when the first golden light washed the mountains and this famous barn, it made for a beautiful morning. As is always the case, the gold didn't last long, but as the gold fades against advancing daylight, I am always comforted that it does return.
Thanks for viewing!
This is the faintest object I have so far captured almost 18 hours of combined exposure time! This was done with my 200mm lenses, so the view here is almost 7 moons wide.
Synthetized from various sources: "The Flying Bat Nebula and the Squid Nebula, known scientifically as Sh2-129 and Ou4 respectively, are an intriguing pair of nebulae located in the constellation Cepheus. The Flying Bat Nebula, an emission nebula discovered in the mid-20th century, spans about 50 light years across. Its glowing red appearance is typical of emission nebulae, which are illuminated by ultraviolet light from nearby stars.
Inside the Flying Bat Nebula is the Squid Nebula, which was discovered more recently in 2011 by amateur astronomer Nicolas Outters. The Squid Nebula is particularly fascinating due to its rare, squid-like shape, which is not yet fully understood by astronomers. This unusual form is thought to be caused by the interaction of a previously unseen, faint central star within the nebula, which emits a strong jet or outflow. This jet interacts with the surrounding interstellar material, sculpting the nebula into its unique squid-like appearance. The stark, blue color of the Squid Nebula, contrasting with the red of the Flying Bat, adds to the visual allure and mystery, making it a subject of ongoing study in astrophysics to better understand the forces shaping such nebulae."
Askar ACL200: 200mm f/4
ZWO ASI533MC Color Camera at -20C
80x300s rgb (uv/ir cut filter)
Nikon 70-200mm 200mm f/2.8
ZWO ASI533MM Mono Camera at -20C
30x300s with Ha filter
74x300s with Oiii filter
27x300s with Sii filter
Guided on ZWO AM5
Processed with PixInsight, Ps
there's the faintest rainbow there, and the wind has lifted his ear, and he's concentrating hard on earning another throw of the ball ... good boy Biscuit!!
only late in the week did I remember the "negative space" challenge and took this chance for his shot :-)
Located in the Snowdonia National Park this picturesque valley and place of serenity has not always been so quiet. In 1886, the Prince of Wales (future King Edward VII) opened the Gorsedda Slate Quarry in the valley. The village of Treforys was built to house the quarrymen and consisted of 36 houses set in 3 streets. A sophisticated slate mill, Ynys Y Pandy, was also built to dress and finish the slate before being transported on a newly laid 3ft gauge tramway down to the harbour town of Porthmadog. But this flood of activity was short lived. After a short 20 years of excavation, the quarry was closed down as quality slate became more and more scarce. As the local paper reported, “everything that could facilitate the works was produced, nothing being wanting but the slate vein”
.
The empty shell of Ynys Y Pandy still stands at the foot of the valley. A stark, man made monument set against a stunning mountainous back drop. The remains of the village of Treforys is less apparent. A blanket of green has devoured all but the faintest outlines of that early, expectant community. The water of the lake that once fed a 26ft water wheel, the beating heart of the mill, is now still and provides a quiet oasis for fishermen and passing walkers.
Text source: www.dioni.co.uk/cwmystradllyn-the-most-beautiful-valley-i...
A window of hope
Shining the light on every problem
A window of hope
There's always a chance that you can solve them
When you think it's all over and you wanna let go
The faintest glow is there to help you, I know
Keep looking for the light of
The window of hope
...
from Oleta Adams
Carro tirat per cavall tallat en la mandapam del temple de Airavatesvarar, Darasuram. El carro i la seva roda estan tan finament esculpits que inclouen fins i tot els detalls més tènues.
Carro tirado por caballo tallado en la mandapam del templo de Airavatesvarar, Darasuram . El carro y su rueda están tan finamente esculpidos que incluyen incluso los detalles más tenues
Horse-drawn chariot carved onto the mandapam of Airavatesvarar temple, Darasuram . The chariot and its wheel are so finely sculpted that they include even the faintest details
In the deep, shadowed recesses of the Misty Caves of Torzgark, where few dare to tread, there dwelt two ancient trolls of grim renown, Zintog and Grobluk by name. In the forgotten tongues of old, their names were spoken with a shudder, for the lore of their kind was steeped in the darkness of ages long past.
In those days, the trolls were beset by a malady most cruel, known among their folk as Glimmerblink. This affliction gnawed at their very sight, causing their great yellow eyes to weep and burn with an unholy fire, as though some curse had bound their vision to eternal suffering. The faintest glimmer of light was to them a torment, and the slightest sound could rouse in them a fury unmatched.
It was upon a day of great stillness, when the world above was veiled in mist and shadow, that these two trolls sought their rest in the deepest of their caverns, where no sunlight could reach. But their slumber was not to be undisturbed, for there came into their domain a being from the world of Men—a man strange of bearing, and stranger still in purpose. Throllibus of Humperding was his name, a wanderer of curious nature, whose heart was ever drawn to dark and hidden places where the light of day dared not shine.
Throllibus, in his folly, sought the fabled crystals of the Misty Caves, said to hold the light of the stars within their faceted depths. But he knew not of the trolls who guarded these treasures, nor of the curse that afflicted them. As he stumbled through the darkened passages, his foot struck a loose stone, and with a great clatter it fell, the sound echoing like thunder through the halls of the trolls.
Zintog stirred first, his heavy lids lifting with a slow and dreadful weariness. “Grobluk, brother, dost thou hear that clamor? What wretched soul dares to break our sacred rest?”
Grobluk, though sluggish in his pain, roused himself at the sound. “By all the torments of the deep places, it is a Man, I deem! The scent of his kind fouls the air—clean and sharp, as though it hath never known the sweet decay of the earth.”
Throllibus, who had by now perceived the terrible beings whose abode he had intruded upon, quaked with fear. He saw their vast eyes, red-rimmed and glowing with a baleful light, and the sight filled him with dread. Yet, mustering his courage, he spoke. “Great lords of the deep, I beg thy pardon! I knew not that these halls were thine. I seek only the crystals, the light of which is said to heal and to preserve.”
“Crystals!” Zintog’s voice rumbled like the grinding of stones. “Thou speakest of healing, when these accursed gems have brought naught but misery to our eyes! See how they burn, how they weep! ‘Tis the work of Men, who brought these stones into our realm, and with them this blight.”
Grobluk groaned, his great hands rising to clutch at his burning eyes. “Would that we could crush all who tread here! But this agony—this Glimmerblink—hath sapped our strength. Yet now, a Man stands before us, with words of healing upon his lips. Speak quickly, if thou wouldst save thyself!”
Throllibus, sensing a chance to save his skin, reached into his satchel and produced a small vial of simple design, marked with runes of a forgotten tongue. “Behold, lords of stone and shadow, this is Man’s Balm, known in the lore of my people. It is said to soothe the fiercest of inflammations, to cool the fires of fever, and to bring peace to the weary eyes.”
The trolls, though wary, were driven by their pain to desperation. Zintog took the vial in his massive hand, the balm appearing tiny and fragile in his grasp. “If thou speakest truth, Man, then thou may yet depart these halls with thy life. But if this be a trick…”
“No trick,” Throllibus stammered, “I swear it by the light of Eärendil’s star.”
At the mention of that ancient star, the trolls hesitated, for even they, in their deep places, knew of the light that had been set as a beacon for the weary and the lost. And so, with a grim resolve, they applied the balm to their inflamed eyes.
A moment passed, then another, and slowly the fires of their affliction began to dim. The burning lessened, and the weeping ceased. Zintog and Grobluk blinked in astonishment, their sight clear for the first time in many long years.
“It… it is as thou saidst,” Zintog rumbled, his voice now softer, less burdened by pain. “This balm hath healed us, Man.”
But before they could offer their thanks or speak further, Throllibus vanished in a swirl of mist, leaving only a faint echo of laughter behind. It was then that the trolls realized the truth: the man had not been a man at all, but Throgmuck, an ancient troll of legend, who had taken the form of a wandering sage to test their hearts and to guard the hidden treasures of Torzgark.
Grobluk laughed, a deep and rumbling sound that shook the stones. “So it was the old trickster Throgmuck all along! We have been fooled, brother, but in a way that hath brought us peace.”
“Indeed,” Zintog agreed, a smile breaking across his stony visage. “And now, the tale of Man’s Balm shall be told in our halls, though it was no Man who wrought this healing.”
And so it was that the tale spread among the trolls of Torzgark, of the wondrous balm that could cure even the most grievous of trollish ills, and of the ancient guardian who still watched over the deep places, his laughter echoing in the dark.
Translations in German,French and Spanish in the first comments.
taken in hong kong.
this couple was insanely cute and didn't have the faintest idea that i was creeping on them. and i am so creepy, i know. :P
*explored, thank you! :)
I set off from my B&B in the dark to take this photograph. Actually it was just a "B" since breakfast was apparently not available, a clause I had overlooked when making my booking but was cheerfully explained to me on arrival along with a hearty recommendation about the quality of the croissants available from the "coapy" in town.
I made my way along the can't-make-up-it's-mind-if-it's-single-track-or-not road from Portree to the Storr car park arriving just as the faintest hint of brightness was showing through the broken cloud in the east.
The car park is a fairly recent innovation facilitating tourist traffic (as are the croissants I suspect), and is accompanied by a well made sturdy path which winds its way up to the Storr. Although it degenerates into a muddy track past its impressive bulk, much of its anticipated user base will have long since headed back to the waiting buses.
Soon it was light enough to make my way by eyesight alone. Temperatures were hovering just above freezing with a ferocious chilling wind blasting out of the north. A couple of weeks later Skye was to experience record breaking 27 degree temperatures but this morning was brutally cold. Every so often there would be a gust of wind so strong that I just had to stop walking and brace myself before staggering onwards when it abated. Had I been climbing a local hill I would have packed it in and headed back to the "B" and had another go some other time but I was only in Skye for a couple of days and I felt compelled to make the most of my time there.
Taking shelter in the lee of a rocky knoll I wedged myself into crack in the rock, fished my belay jacket and thermos from my pack, hunkered down and waited for the morning to unfold. I would have liked to roam around a little and explore other shots but it just wasn't the day for it and I was happy enough to be out of the clutches of the wind.
It didn't look too promising at first, the wind blew sleet and showers in rapid succession across the sky and the cold was beginning to seep in despite my four layers. Again I was at the point of giving up when the sun broke through the cloud for about 15 minutes. I made the most of it then beat a hasty retreat back to Portree for coffee and croissants.
In this shot from June 3rd, 2016 I'm about to board a Safari Air flight to a dream destination. For those who may want to know more, here is an extract from my Journal:
This morning I left the tour group to strike out on my own. After breakfast I was taken to Kasane airport for my Safari Air flight to Kanana Camp. Kasane airport was a place of amazing informality, Safari Air did not have a check in counter, and for that matter, I didn't have a ticket. A man took my bags, weighed them and wrote the details of my flights on a slip of blue paper, which he handed to me. I and some other people were directed to a small room where we were asked to wait. Outside on the runway stood no less than four Safari Air aircraft ranging from small to incredibly tiny.
After a while a man called our names and divided us into groups. A man approached my group of five people and said to follow him. We walked to a plane and climbed into what felt like a flying coffin. There was no room for our legs between the seats, and we had to hunch to keep from hitting our head on the roof. The in-flight refreshment was a mint sweet on each seat; lucky I booked first class.
After two stops and one change of plane (they had an ever smaller one, which I wouldn't have though possible). I, and two Americans from New York, flew to Kanana airstrip where we were met by a man who calls himself Doctor. We climbed aboard a safari truck and were driven for miles through the bush to Kanana camp.
First order of the day, lunch with Tony (not his real name) the camp Manager. The Americans were less interested in an explanation of how the camp functions, but greatly concerned about the green salad which accompanied the kebabs and pasta on their plates. They'd been told not to drink the water in Africa, nor eat any raw fruit or vegetables that may have been washed or cooked in water. The man, let's call him Bob, acted as though he'd been handed a plate of poison. Bonkers (not her real name), his girlfriend, at least maintained her composure.
Tony allayed their concerns, but only after minute explanations of the reverse osmosis water purification process, of which neither had the faintest understanding. Since the camp draws its water from the surrounding vast expanse of wetland, it stands to reason that's where the water comes from, but it must first be purified for human consumption. A no brainer for most, but rocket science for Bob. Fortunately Bob was too preoccupied with his own concerns to contemplate where many of the animals may conduct their ablutions.
When done with their water concerns, there followed an exhaustive question and answer session on surviving wild animal attacks. Bob had a repertoire of stupid scenarios that went on at length, none of them likely and all of them beyond stupid. Tony fielded the questions with aplomb and eventually brought the conversation around to his agenda. How did these people come to be here, I wondered; what are they doing in Africa?
Later when speaking to people who'd just arrived from Namibia, Bonkers found herself floundering because she'd never heard of Namibia. I was embarrassed for her.
An awe-inspiring auroral display lights up the moonless skies above volcanic mountains, escarpments and glaciers streaming down from the more distant Vatnajokull icecap, near Brunnholl, Iceland.
This is a sort of intro to what I expect will be something of a series of aurora shots that Sky Matthews and I will likely post in the coming weeks or months from our recent photography trip to Iceland. We planned to be there a week in the hope that moments of clear skies would align with visible auroral activity for at least an hour or two on one night or another. What nature gifted us was far more than I'd dared hope to see.
We had a completely clear night, with no moonrise until shortly before dawn, on which the aurora first appeared in the northern skies before we'd even finished dinner, and from there it grew nearly to fill the heavens at times from horizon to horizon. Perhaps most spectacularly, it morphed in form throughout the night. Streaks and arches of glorious light closer to the northern horizon evolved into this luminescent ribbon dance weaving intricate patterns in every direction, and then the aurora steadied in the later hours well after midnight into great flowing rivers of light across the sky which in turn spun off smaller eddies of the most magnificent green with hints of red and purple.
Needless to say, we stayed up all night in utter amazement, shooting in six different locations across one hundred kilometers or so of Iceland, and watching this seemingly never-ending display in all its stunning forms (you'll get a glimpse in future posts of what I keep saying about the different ways the aurora presented throughout the night) until it was finally overwhelmed at last by dawn's light the next morning.
This was only my second-ever attempt at photographing the aurora, so there was a substantial learning curve, and much room for further improvement still if I'm ever lucky enough to see a display like this again one day, but I was nonetheless pleased to get some shots to share! Two things stood out in my mind when reflecting on photographing this awesome display: First, even with my 14-24 wide open, I could not hope to communicate the massive area of sky infused with these ever changing patterns of light; and, second, I cannot imagine any photograph, video or anything else giving more than the faintest hint of how much wonder, awe and reverence an aurora like this inspires when experienced in person.
Thanks for viewing!
From the Wiki…
NGC 3532 (classified by Sir Patrick Moore as Caldwell 91), also commonly known as the Pincushion Cluster, the Football Cluster, the Black Arrow Cluster and the Wishing Well Cluster, is an open cluster some 405 parsecs from Earth in the constellation Carina. Its population of approximately 150 stars of 7th magnitude or fainter includes seven red giants and seven white dwarfs.On 20 May 1990 it became the first target ever observed by the Hubble Space Telescope. A line from Beta Crucis through Delta Crucis passes somewhat to the north of NGC 3532. The cluster lies between the constellation Crux and the larger but fainter "False Cross" asterism. The 4th-magnitude Cepheid variable star x Carinae (V382 Car) appears near the southeast fringes, but it lies between the Sun and the cluster and is not a member of the cluster.
The cluster was first catalogued by Nicolas Louis de Lacaille in 1751. It was admired by John Herschel, who thought it one of the finest star clusters in the sky, with many double stars (binary stars).
About processing this image…
Anyone trying to process this object will quickly realise the field is overwhelmed by the brightness of the main star cluster, with the faint background nebulosity being a trick to bring out without destroying the stars. In the end, I have actually used the Ha stars for the main cluster [so I lost some of the very faintest stars], and created an artificial flat in the base colour of the star glow, selectively applied to where it was needed, and subtracted that out to remove the strong and massive halo from all the stars. I did apply a star mask to this artificial flat so not to change the colour of the stars whilst subtracting the selective flat. That seemed to work.
Hi res link:
live.staticflickr.com/65535/50939560953_722bc98976_o.jpg
Information about the image:
Instrument: Planewave CDK 12.5 | Focal Ratio: F8
Camera: STXL-11000 + AOX | Mount: AP900GTO
Camera Sensitivity: Lum + Ha: Bin 1x1, RGB: Bin 2x2
Exposure Details: Total: 22.6 hours | Lum: 15 x 900 sec [3.75hr], Lum: 80 x 60 sec [1.33hr], Ha: 30 x 1200 sec [10.0hr],RGB 20 x 450sec each [7.5hrs]
Viewing Location: Central Victoria, Australia.
Observatory: ScopeDome 3m
Date: January 2021
Software Enhancements: CCDStack2, CCDBand-Aid, PS, Pixinsight
Author: Steven Mohr
The former Youth Hostel at Whitepark Bay, lit only by the light of a glorious full moon, with the faintest glow of the Northern Lights in the background.
If you are interested, you can read the story behind this shot here: www.flickr.com/photos/luxvenit/8231907695/in/photostream
decided I would delve back into the archives and look for some old photos of this amazing night up at the summit of Mt Cook with the OOAK gang last year when I slowly began to realise in shocking horror that my RAW’s from that trip had mysteriously vanished.
My frenzied looking sped up at a hastened pace – hard drive 1, hard drive 2, laptop 1, laptop 2. Nothing.
I’ve never lost RAW’s before so this was new territory and I drifted off into confusion and lost bewilderment – how did this happen and what did it mean?
Were there shots I hadn’t yet looked at and saved as Tiffs. What have I missed and where have they gone.
It was amidst this turmoil that I remembered an event from that night. Damien and I had been standing on the snow with our cameras next to each. Damien with a 50mm tilt shift and I with a 15mm in vertical orientation when we decided to swap each other’s memory cards to ‘ augment out haul’, after all, our cameras were identical.
Fortunately I was right and safely stored in his possession was an identical raw file of this magical place to one of the few that I had lost. Once again I was able to relieve this extraordinary experience.
A few hours after this image was shot I captured one of my all time most precious images, Galactic Dance (www.flickr.com/photos/jaydaley/14975211327/) with this vista, the Aurora Australis and the beautiful milky way all on show. Interestingly, this image has the faintest hint of that famous purple glow just beginning to show in the bottom left corner of the sky.
View Large and, as always, thanks for looking!
This is the latest tulip to come out. It's the faintest of yellow and very pretty. It doesn't seem to have minded the snow yesterday at all.
The snow is mostly gone, by the way, and I've asked it to stay away until Christmas Eve.
Following the faintest of old drove roads across Cefn Hill in West Herefordshire, with a squall sweeping down from above Hay-on-Wye.
Taken between 12:51AM and 4:18AM looking west (elevation 8,000 feet, Bortle 1 skies). I decided to use the Milky Way as the background (at 1:16AM) with Jupiter in the lower left. Moon caused the bluish tint to the sky.
This image represents 1/70th of the entire sky. During the 3.5 hours represented in this composite image of 26 raw images, I averaged 7.3 meteors/hour. The brighest 3 meteors probably reached -2 magnitude and the faintest recorded was probably +4. Anyway, I would say that the ZHR (what could be in theory seen overhead) reached ~105 (meteors/hour). While many were disappointed with this year's display, under rural clear skies, the Perseids delivered.
Location: ~12 miles east of Ten Sleep, Wyoming in the Bighorn Mountains off US 16 (Boulder Campground).
Picture of the Day
“When it is the most beautiful,
it is the time to leave … “ - Zeit Zu Gehen
Soundtrack : www.youtube.com/watch?v=XC9n61K9_4w
ZEIT ZU GEHEN – MELISSA
You bring me to my knees
tears spring from a deep forgotten well
like a waterfall the torrent crashes
like waves at speed hit the stones upon a broken spell
the light is brighter now shining between the cracks
the splits that opened up old wounds and bled
blood-red crimson tides are washed
upon rock-filled shores where temptation found and led
me to another world running parallel to mine
my feet barely touched the ground
I tumbled down like Alice through the rabbit hole
and time and space were nothing compared to what I found
fragile like a china doll shaken to my core
I lived among a generational gap
I belonged to no-one; to no time and there was only ever you
I am a clown; I am a nomad where my tears overlap
the desert sands of time fall through
slip between my fingers and my toes
nothing touches or vexes me
I am beyond all things; I am beyond all woes
I look around and find the empty space
where once you occupied a place within my heart
I touch the ground where once you walked
the imprints of your soles fading now as you depart
I am lost to your world and nowhere near the next
trapped between floors in a high-rise flat
the alarm bells do not ring and no-one comes
I am left here with my thoughts; I will be just another stat
I see the column now;
printed words with faded typeface
shredded yellowing paper blows like tumble weed
double yellows; no parking here in this forsaken place
and on the wind I hear a whisper
I imagine I hear my name
the faintest sound beyond the vespers
do they chime for me; am I alive; am I the same
I hear the beating of my heart
I feel the gentle touch of caring hands
at last I feel the comforting love
that warms me through and shifting sands
have brought me home; a place where I am found
and set me down on this most holy ground
I am alive;
I am alive
I am
I … a drifting weightless butterfly
even as I whisper
goodbye
goodbye …
perchance to dream within a Winter wood
where the trees and breeze have always understood
the ways that sway
and time delays
that waking moment
awakening in me now
I vow
to always hope
to always dream
to always wish
that nothing is ever as bad as first it seems
no nothing
for even in the emptiness
and even in the silence
there is something
a gravitational pull
that brings me back
back to
you.
- AP - Copyright © remains with and is the intellectual property of the author
Copyright © protected image please do not reproduce without permission
Happy Weekend, dear Friends!! Happy dreaming of butterflies in Winter woods ... <3
Fog blankets the Tukituki Valley, leaving only the tops of the tallest trees visible. Their crowns emerge like islands in a sea of mist, with delicate branches seamlessly melding into the haze. The faintest golden glow begins to filter through, hinting at the coming day.
To all my friends and family who bring sunshine to my life, I give to you a little ray of Winter sunshine and wish for you all a very Happy, Peaceful and Healthy New Year in 2017 and always. Lots of love, Poppy xo
“We cannot glimpse eternity by closing our eyes and eternity is in a single moment, so live each moment with heart and eyes wide open, fling open wide your arms, pull it to you and embrace it, enjoy it as a child would do and let it pass into the next, ad infinitum ...”
- AP
"in our dreams we live our lives and in our lives we live our dreams." - AP
Soundtrack : www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yu38a7w9Ss4
THE SWEETEST DAYS – VANESSA WILLIAMS
WHERE BEAUTIFUL STILL WATERS RUN
When I've had a happy day
I don't want it to end
in my memory it can last forever
and in my heart, my friend
because like all friends a memory can
bring love and warmth to mind
and leaves us with appreciation
of all that we found kind
I try to live within the moment
I try to breathe and find
my inner voices quieten in the stillness
and memories spring more easily to my mind
I feel the soft touch of your fingers
curl around my own
and close my eyes; breathe in your goodness
and feel myself at home
contentedness is not complacent
it knows it can be torn
but worry not within this moment
enjoy this simple morn
for unexpected pleasures carry
memories and us through time
and warm us in the depths of Winter
when mountains are so hard to climb
you came and made a change in me
enriched me beyond price
the ache within me is now filled with gladness
you melted my heart of ice
you bathed me in a pool of longing
eyes glistened in the sun
diamonds sparkled on the surface
where beautiful still waters run
a soul may not be tangible
but I swear yours was to me
I was placid; softened in your aura
you set my body free
so that I may float above those mountains
where stormy skies may darken
and snow-capped peaks that may hinder my journey
can no longer stop me from being hearkened
my voice is gentle; softly spoken
since to me you brought your light
and I will sleep and dream of memories
that warm me through the night
and when I wake and see the sunlight
peeping through the clouds
I'll smile and sigh with deep contentment
and say your name out loud
to thank you for the memories given
that left my heart in wonder
and found me wanting to surrender
to the faintest sounds of thunder
for in the storm I'm closer to you
I feel so strong; alive
and truly living in the moment
I know I will survive …
- AP - Copyright remains with and is the intellectual property of the author
Copyright © protected image please do not reproduce without permission'
A compilation of two of my photographs
I've had mixed luck photographing sunset from Lonesome Lake. Last winter, I hiked up to the lake and froze my butt off waiting for a completely cloudy sunset. I was able to take one of my favorite mountain panoramas during blue hour, but the alpenglow and golden clouds I was hoping for never materialized.
This winter, I was descending from the summit of Cannon Mountain with no plans to stop at the lake. The Kinsman Ridge trail was a literal frozen waterfall so I was traveling much slower than normal. When I got to Lonesome Lake, the faintest hint of alpenglow was glimmering on Mount Lafayette. I decided to stay and, although the sky was almost cloudless, I did get to see this beautiful soft glow on the high peaks of Franconia Ridge.
You can see more on my website here: davidhowlandphoto.com/collections/recent-work/products/al...
The NASA/ESA/CSA James Webb Space Telescope has produced the deepest and sharpest infrared image of the distant Universe to date. Known as Webb’s First Deep Field, this image of galaxy cluster SMACS 0723 is overflowing with detail.
Thousands of galaxies – including the faintest objects ever observed in the infrared – have appeared in Webb’s view for the first time. This slice of the vast Universe is approximately the size of a grain of sand held at arm’s length by someone on the ground.
This deep field, taken by Webb’s Near-Infrared Camera (NIRCam), is a composite made from images at different wavelengths, totaling 12.5 hours – achieving depths at infrared wavelengths beyond the Hubble Space Telescope’s deepest fields, which took weeks.
The image shows the galaxy cluster SMACS 0723 as it appeared 4.6 billion years ago. The combined mass of this galaxy cluster acts as a gravitational lens, magnifying much more distant galaxies behind it. Webb’s NIRCam has brought those distant galaxies into sharp focus – they have tiny, faint structures that have never been seen before, including star clusters and diffuse features. Researchers will soon begin to learn more about the galaxies’ masses, ages, histories, and compositions, as Webb seeks the earliest galaxies in the Universe.
First, focus on the galaxies responsible for the lensing: the bright white elliptical galaxy at the centre of the image and smaller white galaxies throughout the image. Bound together by gravity in a galaxy cluster, they are bending the light from galaxies that appear in the vast distances behind them. The combined mass of the galaxies and dark matter act as a cosmic telescope, creating magnified, contorted, and sometimes mirrored images of individual galaxies.
Clear examples of mirroring are found in the prominent orange arcs to the left and right of the brightest cluster galaxy. These are lensed galaxies – each individual galaxy is shown twice in one arc. Webb’s image has fully revealed their bright cores, which are filled with stars, along with orange star clusters along their edges.
Not all galaxies in this field are mirrored – some are stretched. Others appear scattered by interactions with other galaxies, leaving trails of stars behind them.
Webb has refined the level of detail we can observe throughout this field. Very diffuse galaxies appear like collections of loosely bound dandelion seeds aloft in a breeze. Individual “pods” of star formation practically bloom within some of the most distant galaxies – the clearest, most detailed views of star clusters in the early Universe so far.
One galaxy speckled with star clusters appears near the bottom end of the bright central star’s vertical diffraction spike – just to the right of a long orange arc. The long, thin ladybug-like galaxy is flecked with pockets of star formation. Draw a line between its “wings” to roughly match up its star clusters, mirrored top to bottom. Because this galaxy is so magnified and its individual star clusters are so crisp, researchers will be able to study it in exquisite detail, which wasn’t previously possible for galaxies this distant.
The galaxies in this scene that are farthest away – the tiniest galaxies that are located well behind the cluster – look nothing like the spiral and elliptical galaxies observed in the local Universe. They are much clumpier and more irregular. Webb’s highly detailed image may help researchers measure the ages and masses of star clusters within these distant galaxies. This might lead to more accurate models of galaxies that existed at cosmic “spring,” when galaxies were sprouting tiny “buds” of new growth, actively interacting and merging, and had yet to develop into larger spirals. Ultimately, Webb’s upcoming observations will help astronomers better understand how galaxies form and grow in the early Universe.
Credits: NASA, ESA, CSA, and STScI