View allAll Photos Tagged Fated
Coniston Water, Lake District.
Also the location of Donald Campbell's ill-fated attempt to extend his world water speed record in 1966. His boat somersaulted and he was killed instantly. The wreckage of the Bluebird was not recovered until 2001. Donald's body was only recovered the year after that.
On 16 October 1983, the CNY Chapter NRHS sponsored a trip on the relatively new Susquehanna Northern Division that covered large portions of both the Syracuse and Utica branches, running between Jamesville and Norwich.
At Chenango Forks, junction of the two lines, NYSW GP18 No. 1800 and C430 No. 3004 (one of two Alcos fated to be lost in grade crossing mishaps) perform a smoky photo runby beneath the Route 12 bridge, which itself would fall to the grade crossing fate.
Titanic Belfast is a visitor attraction opened in 2012, a monument to Belfast's maritime heritage on the site of the former Harland & Wolff shipyard in the city's Titanic Quarter where the RMS Titanic was built.
It tells the stories of the ill-fated Titanic, which hit an iceberg and sank during her maiden voyage in 1912, and her sister ships RMS Olympic and HMHS Britannic. The building contains more than 12,000 square metres (130,000 sq ft) of floor space, most of which is occupied by a series of galleries, private function rooms and community facilities, plus the addition of Hickson’s Point destination bar in March 2018.
Southern Pacific's version of the ill-fated SPSF paint scheme is displayed on SDP45 3201 at Sacramento, California, on April 22, 1987. The passenger unit and locomotives from Santa Fe, Union Pacific, Caltrans, and Amtrak are on a California Operation Lifesaver special running from San Francisco to San Diego.
Cobh (formerly Queenstown) in County Cork, Ireland was the last port of call for the ill fated Titanic which sailed from here on 14th April 1912.
Described by Winston Churchill as one of the most beautiful places he knew, Castle Tioram, pronounced 'Cheerum' is located on a rocky tidal island, Eilean Tioram in Loch Moidart in the Western Highlands on the west coast of Scotland. Tioram is the Gaelic word for dry and the island is only accessible at low tide across a sandy spit. It stands where the waters of Loch Moidart and the river Shiel meet.
Tioram Castle was the seat of power of the medieval Lord of the Isles and is the ancestral home and former seat of the Macdonalds of Clanranald. It was strategically located guarding the movement between the southern Hebrides and Skye or the outer isles. It also monitored the inland route past Loch Shiel. The castle was the main fortification protecting Moidart, Rum, Eigg, Canna, the Uists and Barra.
Tioram Castle was burnt on the orders of the last chief of the direct line when he set off to join the ill-fated Jacobite uprising of 1715. The idea was to keep it out of the hands of the Hanoverian forces. The castle was never restored and has been unoccupied since then. It is regarded as the most significant symbol of the rise and fall of the Lordship of the Isles, still visible today. Undoubtedly it is the most beautiful.
The curtain wall of the castle is believed to be from the 13th century. The tower and other interior buildings are from the 14th to 16th century. A five-sided structure whose high walls have rounded corners, its shape is in keeping with the natural outline of the island. There is no access to the buildings because of the risk of falling masonry.
Who would live in a house like this? Does look rather minimalistic .....
This is part of the Scott Memorial Lighthouse, located in Roath Park, Cardiff, to commemorate Capt Scott's ill fated trip to Antarctica,which sailed from Cardiff in 1910. The lighthouse can be viewed in the Cardiff and the Bay album below.
Heath & Roath Park 2022.
The monument was repainted and 'spring cleaned' in 2020 after a donation to the Council was made by a local man who had lost both his wife and his mother in 2019. Andy Temple and his wife frequently walked round the lake, as did his mother right up to the age of 97.
On 15 June 1910, Scott and the crew of the Terra Nova set sail from Cardiff bound for the Antarctic, where they arrived in October on their ill-fated mission to reach the South Pole. The ship depicted on the weathervane on top of the tower is of Scott's earlier vessel, The Discovery.
Pose-[Erebus] Viking Charge
Backdrop-[Drakes] Viking Longship prop
__________
Wearing
Hair-[MAGNIFICENT] THOR Bun - Grooming Hair
Beard-[MAGNIFICENT] for EON - Bento DROGO Stache & Beard
Tattoos- :CORAZON:. Tattoo BADWOLD C Light :-[HEXUMBRA] Splatter Face EvoX-Hexed - Geri&Freki Face Tattoo FATED
Outfit - TSC Battle Viking
Amtrak's ill-fated Lake Country Limited #344 makes its way south through Libertyville, IL on its inaugural run. My friends and I nicknamed it the "Heifer Zephyr" since it ran through the southern end of "America's Dairyland" between Chicago and Janesville.
Around Roath Park, Cardiff. The Scott Monument is lit in the colours of the flag of Ukraine. The houses are on Lake Road West.
The monument was repainted and 'spring cleaned' in 2020 after a donation to the Council was made by a local man who had lost both his wife and his mother in 2019. Andy Temple and his wife frequently walked round the lake, as did his mother right up to the age of 97.
On 15 June 1910, Scott and the crew of the Terra Nova set sail from Cardiff bound for the Antarctic, where they arrived in October on their ill-fated mission to reach the South Pole. The ship that forms the weathervane on top of the tower is of Scott's earlier vessel, The Discovery.
Sheltered in there since the fateful flight
Crafted den, seething with these dreams alive
The shadow, will no more withdraw
Wicked time has frozen in a dusky dawn
Daylight will never be reaching noon
Marvel and despair of a world
Dressing not anymore in its cloak of gloom
Nothing hinders the will
Nor suffers delay
Time is standing still
As nothing more stands in the way
Even if he claims
Only joy remains
Even quite alone
In a savage run
The ones that might slow the haste
Are fated to be hushed
The ones that try to stop the race
Deserve to be crushed
Under a mask of conceit and pride
Badly armed with some tricks and a cunning mind
The harmless faced the foe unnamed
Played the part of a cruel unfair game
And killed, destroyed the grim enemy grown
Only one tremor for a wrong
Buried under a bunch of stillborn hopes
Nothing hinders the will
Nor suffers delay
Time is standing still
As nothing more stands in the way
Even if he claims
Only joy remains
Even quite alone
In a savage run
To Prologue of the Story "The Doors"
Slowly kissing her slender neck, Ronnie savored every heartbeat, each pulse a potent reminder of her warmth and vitality. The intoxicating taste of her skin sent waves of desire coursing through him, igniting a fire that he couldn’t contain. His hands roamed her hot body, fingers tracing the delicate contours, as if he were memorizing every inch. They were wrapped in a cocoon of sweetness, the night air heavy with intoxicating promise, as they disappeared into the shadows beneath the watchful gaze of the silver moon. Each kiss was both a caress and a torment, awakening an inner hunger that had long been dormant.
In this moment, the world around them faded, leaving only their intertwined souls, each touch deepening their connection. As his lips traveled along her collarbone, whispers of forgotten fantasies danced between them, igniting sparks that lit the dark. The air was thick with longing, every sigh and shudder echoing the yearning that had brought them to this crescendo of passion. Her body trembled beneath him, responding to the sweet torment, each caress drawing them further into a realm of ecstasy that felt both exhilarating and perilous.
With every heated breath, the fabric of reality unraveled, and they were lost in a fulfilling embrace that transcended time and space. Ronnie’s hot breath against her skin ignited sparks of electricity, sending shivers down her spine, and with each flicker of his lips, the angel found herself spiraling deeper into a love that consumed her. Her heart swelled with an intoxicating yearning, captivated by the connection they shared—a beautiful intertwining of souls craving more than just a fleeting moment. As the night enveloped them, a sense of inevitability settled in; they were kindred spirits caught in the whirlwind of passion and desire, fated to unite under the celestial glow overhead.
(to be continued...)
Devoted to my Ronnie, a talented and amazing musician who touched my heart deeply with Love ღ
The ill fated 37515 T&T with 37261 at Llanfairfechan with 3J96 08.59 Crewe - Holyhead - Crewe on 20 October 2007. 515 was later in collision with a truck full of potatoes on a Grangemouth - Inverness light engine move on 4 Jan 2008 and was written off.
Three Susquehanna C430s and a leased CF7 have a northward facing container train parked at Montgomery Street in Binghamton on 24 August 1985. Ill-fated 3002 and 3004 were both written off after grade crossing rollovers.
On July 5, 1987, a southbound Santa Fe freight led by “Kodachrome” GE B23-7 No. 6374, approaches Palmer Lake on Colorado’s Joint Line between Denver and Pueblo. This locomotive is painted in the ill-fated red, yellow and black colors of the Southern Pacific and Santa Fe merger that never happened.
Geneva - International (Cointrin) (GVA / LSGG)
Switzerland 1.1998
23 years ago.
Ill-fated HB-IWF "Vaud". The Geneva-bound flight left New York's JFK at 8.17 pm and crashed an hour later into the atlantic ocean near Peggy's Cove, Nova Scotia.
Strathallan, Scotland, August 1984. Note the retangular cabin window, which had featured in the ill-fated Comet 1 design. While the Mark 2s were built with heavier-gauge metal than the initial mark, they were only partly pressurised and so the crew had to use oxygen.
This aircraft had arrived at Strathallan by air on 22 August 1974, suffering the collapse of its starboard landing-gear when it struck an earth bank just short of the runway. www.youtube.com/watch?v=vroy6y03lWQ
It was repaired but eventually broken up on site in 1990 when the museum at Strathallan closed down. The nose section is currently (2020) on display at the Al Mahatta Museum at Sharjah, UAE.
Train #1875 departs Garfield, New Jersey on the Bergen County Line behind the honorary #4109, one of thirteen GP40Ps built for the CNJ in 1968 with NJDOT money and now beautifully restored to its CNJ livery. The spur on the right was part of the Erie's Dundee Branch which, in its last years, was operated by the ill-fated New York and Greenwood Lake.
Available at the Cupid Inc. Event, starting on the 5th of February.
Featuring:
- 10 Metals/Accents, 10 Charms. 10 Keys and 10 Engraving colors. Materials enabled.
- Engraving - 10 Letters.
At the event you will be able to gift a bracelet as a secret admirer. The buyer's name will remain anonymous or available, depending on how you set it.
The gift recipient will receive instructions on how to claim the gift.
Sold separately with copy/no trans permissions for the duration of the event.
Set of 4 images of Captain Scott Tea Caddy.
I have a great interest in the Arctic and the Antarctic expeditions and the history of the early exploits. This was a great little find in a junk shop, an original tea caddy of the ill fated journey to the South Pole. These are very rare to find and I got it at the bargain price of £5 a couple of years ago.
Early in its short career with the Susquehanna, ill-fated C430
No. 3004 is at Cortland with local freight work on 16 July 1983, catching the last sweet light of a summer evening.
Hot westbound trailers scoot around the big curve west of Willard behind a Santa Fe only SF30C in the ill fated SPSF merger scheme.
Zabriskie Point is a part of the Amargosa Range located east of Death Valley in Death Valley National Park in California, United States, noted for its erosional landscape. It is composed of sediments from Furnace Creek Lake, which dried up 5 million years ago—long before Death Valley came into existence.
The location was named after Christian Brevoort Zabriskie, vice-president and general manager of the Pacific Coast Borax Company in the early 20th century. The company's twenty-mule teams were used to transport borax from its mining operations in Death Valley.
Millions of years prior to the actual sinking and widening of Death Valley and the existence of Lake Manly (see Geology of the Death Valley area), another lake covered a large portion of Death Valley including the area around Zabriskie Point. This ancient lake began forming approximately nine million years ago. During several million years of the lake's existence, sediments were collecting at the bottom in the form of saline muds, gravels from nearby mountains, and ashfalls from the then-active Black Mountain volcanic field. These sediments combined to form what we today call the Furnace Creek Formation. The climate along Furnace Creek Lake was dry, but not nearly as dry as in the present. Camels, mastodons, horses, carnivores, and birds left tracks in the lakeshore muds, along with fossilized grass and reeds. Borates, which made up a large portion of Death Valley's historical past were concentrated in the lakebeds from hot spring waters and alteration of rhyolite in the nearby volcanic field. Weathering and alteration by thermal waters are also responsible for the variety of colors represented there.
Regional mountain-building to the west influenced the climate to become more and more arid, causing the lake to dry up, and creating a dry lake. Subsequent widening and sinking of Death Valley and the additional uplift of today's Black Mountains tilted the area. This provided the necessary relief to accomplish the erosion that produced the badlands we see today. The dark-colored material capping the badland ridges (to the left in the panoramic photograph) is lava from eruptions that occurred three to five million years ago. This hard lava cap has retarded erosion in many places and possibly explains why Manly Beacon, the high outcrop to the right, is much higher than other portion of the badlands. (Manly Beacon was named in honor of William L. Manly, who along with John Rogers, guided members of the ill-fated party of Forty-niners out of Death Valley during the California Gold Rush of 1849.)
The primary source of borate minerals gathered from Death Valley's playas is Furnace Creek Formation. The Formation is made up of over 5000 feet (1500 m) of mudstone, siltstone, and conglomerate. The borates were concentrated in these lakebeds from hot spring waters and altered rhyolite from nearby volcanic fields.
Eyes: Fated Eyes (Spaced C) by [n.a.p] *Get this item at the Sailpunk 2021 Gacha Guild event!* www.flickr.com/photos/152181084@N05/
Access: Captain's Fate (Key to Paradise- golden & Call to Party - dark) by [n.a.p] *Get this item at the Sailpunk 2021 Gacha Guild event!* www.flickr.com/photos/152181084@N05/
LM to the Gacha Guild 2021 event: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Dew%20Drop/162/168/1210
I would have never thought that day you walked in the club i was in, that you are my destiny. I am grateful every day for all the stars that had to align for us to meet that fated day. Here's to a year of knowing you, my Love. Here's to our first milestone, one of many more to come. I love you! ♥
Die Windmühlen von Campo de Criptana, am nördlichen Ortsrand stehen da ganze 10 Stück. Die spanischen Windmühlen stehen auch eng in Verbindung mit Don Quijote von der Mancha. Don Quijote ist die allgemeinsprachliche Bezeichnung für den spanischsprachigen Roman "El ingenioso hidalgo Don Quixote de la Mancha" von Miguel de Cervantes und gleichzeitig der Name des Protagonisten. Der erste Teil wurde 1605 veröffentlicht, der zweite 1615 unter dem Titel "Segunda parte del ingenioso caballero don Quixote de la Mancha".
Don Quijote ist ein seinen Ritterromanen verfallener Leser, der unfähig erscheint, zwischen Dichtung und Wahrheit zu unterscheiden. Er hält sich für einen stolzen Ritter, dem vermeintlich das Schicksal ein kühnes Abenteuer nach dem nächsten zu bestreiten auferlegt. Er steigt auf sein klappriges Pferd Rosinante und kämpft unter anderem gegen Windmühlen. Treu an seiner Seite reitet der nur scheinbar naive Schildknappe Sancho Panza und versucht seinen Herrn vor schlimmerem Unheil zu bewahren. Meist enden die Episoden damit, dass Don Quijote verprügelt wird und wenig ruhmreich als „Ritter von der traurigen Gestalt“ auftritt. Im 1615 vorgelegten zweiten Teil ist der – immer noch verarmte – Landadelige Don Quijote eine literarische Berühmtheit geworden.
The windmills of Campo de Criptana, on the northern outskirts, are 10 pieces. The Spanish windmills are also closely associated with Don Quixote of the Mancha. Don Quixote is the general term for the Spanish-language novel "El ingenioso hidalgo Don Quixote de la Mancha" by Miguel de Cervantes and at the same time the name of the protagonist. The first part was published in 1605, the second in 1615 under the title "Segunda parte del ingenioso caballero don Quixote de la Mancha".
Don Quixote is a reader addicted to his chivalric novels, who seems unable to distinguish between fiction and truth. He considers himself a proud knight who is supposedly fated to face one daring adventure after the next. He gets on his rickety horse Rosinante and fights against windmills, among other things. The apparently naive squire Sancho Panza rides faithfully at his side and tries to protect his master from worse calamities. Most of the episodes end with Don Quixote being beaten up and appearing with little glory as the “knight of the sad figure”. In the second part, presented in 1615, the - still impoverished - country nobleman Don Quixote became a literary celebrity.
Please don't use this image on websites, blogs or other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved
NO GROUP INVITES
Ahh, I've been slow the last few days, and I feel terrible for it. May is an interesting month. It's been a bit of an emotional roller coaster. This weekend was my mother's birthday, and the first one that's passed without her. Mother's day is coming up, and so is my own birthday. I'm so used to it being a pleasant thing for my mother and I that it feels a bit strange. At least in the spirit of that, I thought to share a silly memory along with this picture...which probably doesn't look like it makes any sense.
When I was young, we grew up in a rather poor neighbourhood. There were a ton of other factors of my youth that lead to various struggles, but simply put, I spent a lot of time alone. Perhaps that lent to me being an imaginative little shit, but when I wasn't plastered to video games, I was playing pretend in a variety of ways. One of my favourite times to do that was when we did laundry.
It was likely a pretty shanty laundry room, but I ran around there like it was one of those damn McDonald's playplaces back when they first opened. I used to wear boxes and pretend I was Mega Man or something ridiculous while I rode dryers on spin cycles or twirled around like whatever the Magical Girl flavour of the week was or pretend to be some Final Fantasy character, or something. I probably looked like a little shit, but my mother never mind, and always found me props and played along while we were waiting.
Now, just outside the laundry room was a door. A door that was always closed. Logic (and persistent badgering) pointed to the fact that this was a storage room, but childen (not unlike cats) seem to think that all closed doors are mystical portals into a fantastical realm that must be opened at all costs. Of course, this never really happened. It was a storage room for the super, but they were kind and let people on the floors keep stuff in there when they needed to. Apparently, my mother had some stuff in there, and one fated day, the door was set to open.
Clearly, I did the expected thing and ran through it like a crazed animal. At least for a little bit.
At some point, a brown, worn little book fell down from a shelf, and I had to inspect it, for it was my sworn duty. It was musty and aged, and smelled as if it actually beginning to become the wood that housed it. The oddest part was how it was written. To this day, I cannot recall for the life of me what the book's title was, but I do remember that it was filled with various sonnets and tales written in archaic English. I cannot describe how fascinated I was with this book. I could read bits and pieces (not on accord of struggling with reading--it was just struggling to read -that- sort of English) and clung to them as if I had never seen anything so fascinating in my life. Perhaps I hadn't!
It felt like ages went by that I sifted through the pages filled with odd words and embellished drawings before I had to put the thing back. Every time I went to do laundry, I thought about that book, and all of my imaginative landscapes became woven by fantasy, hoping I'd find that book again. Mind you, I never did, but I'm not even sure it mattered. It still helped shape my love of writing and creativity even still.
Credits are over in my blog for many of the beautiful items, like the new Zibska makeup, the Anxiety backdrop and the Azoury shoes!
"You feel so familiar...
I must have loved you
in more than one lifetime."
N.R. Hart
:·..·:·.☽◯☾.·:·..·:
:·..·:·.☽ ᴘʜᴏᴛᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜ ɪɴsᴘɪʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ☾.·:·..·:
Someone // Pouty Lipgloss
Astrophe // Dec. 5th to Dec. 25th
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Astrophe/128/128/30
:·..·:·.☽◯☾.·:·..·:
:·..·:·.☽ ᴄʜʀᴏɴɪᴄ ᴄᴏsᴍᴇᴛɪᴄs ɪᴛᴇᴍs ☾.·:·..·:
Chronic Cosmetics // Bitchin' Shadows / Yule Compact
Crack Fandom Monthly // Son of a Nutcracker
Raising money for Toys for Tots
12/15 to 12/29
:·..·:·.☽◯☾.·:·..·:
:·..·:·.☽ ᴘʜʏsɪᴄᴀʟ ᴍᴀɴɪғᴇsᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ☾.·:·..·:
Hers
Head: Lelutka
Body: Reborn
───✦ Body Mod: X
Skin: NAR
Body: NAR
───✦ Addons: Someone // Cleavage Addon Set 1 / Luscious
Eyes: Someone // Paradox
Ears: Swallow // Gauged S
His
Head: Lelutka
Body: Signature
Skin: Fuoey
───✦ Body: Not Found
:·..·:·.☽ ɢʟᴀᴍᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ ☾.·:·..·:
Hers
Hair: Magika // Marzipan
Makeup:
───✦ Brows: Suicidal Unborn // Mysteria
───✦ Lashes: Void // Demure
───✦ Lash Applier: Dark Moon // Desire Lashes
───✦ Details: Someone // Ultimate Skin Customization kit
────────────✦ Dark Moon // Bat Freckles
───✦ Eyes: Chronic Cosmetics // Bitchin' Shadows / Yule Compact
───✦ Lips: Someone //Pouty Lipgloss {Astrophe}
Nails: Ladybird x Quirky // Natural Nails
Tattoos:
───✦ Dark Moon // Moonchild Hand Tatt
───✦ Dark Moon // MoonDust Tattoo
───✦ Dark Moon // Moon Marks & Starburst Freckles
───✦ Fable // Noteworthy
───✦ Ladybird // Aon / Algiz
───✦ Ladybird // Cricket / Witch
───✦ Ladybird // Onyx / Scorpio
───✦ Lilithe // Cerridwen
───✦ Lilithe // Meliae
───✦ Lilithe // Selene
His
Hair: Stealthic // Prevail
Beard: Magnificent // Hipster Godlike
Tattoo: Mister Razor // Bjorn
:·..·:·.☽ ʀᴇɢᴀʟɪᴀ ☾.·:·..·:
Hers
Pixicat // Bianca Dress {Anthem}
Violent Seduction // Mid Fishnets
His
Garaz // Coller Outfit {E10}
:·..·:·.☽ ᴀᴅᴏʀɴᴍᴇɴᴛs ☾.·:·..·:
Hers
Evermore // Moon Bindi
Magika // Marzipan Yule Berries Headband {GG}
Real Evil // Royalty Ring
Rotten // Dainty Ear Junk
Rotten // Dainty Nose Junk II
Stoic // Bubble Letter Necklace
Stoic // Moth & Moon Gauges
Stoic // Pierced / Hearts
Triggered // Empire Glasses
Ysoral // Malie Luxe Wedding Ring
His
Real Evil // Fated Necklace
Ysoral // Eliot Luxe Wedding Ring
:·..·:·.☽ ᴍɪsᴇ-ᴇɴ-sᴄᴇɴᴇ ☾.·:·..·:
Ana // Wrapped in You I
K&S // Marble Kiss
Specter Skies // Deviant Minipack / Hidden PBR
Alchemy Viewer
Light Prims
:·..·:·.☽◯☾.·:·..·:
WWI RE 8 bi-plane with two flight crew , taken at Old Warden September 2012.
Losses of aircraft and crew were massive, young lads barely 18 yrs old were given flying lessons, basic training, then sent to fight. Most were shot down and killed with a matter of days ...
During World War I, the lumbering Reconnaissance Experimental 8 was the most widely used British two-seater biplane on the Western Front. A descendant of the R.E.7, it was initially developed for reconnaissance work but also saw service as a bomber and ground attack aircraft. Nicknamed the "Harry Tate," after a well known music hall performer of the day, it provided a stable platform for photographic missions but suffered from poor maneuverability, leaving it vulnerable to attack by enemy fighters. Despite heavy losses, the R.E.8 remained in service throughout the war.
On the morning of 13 April 1917, 59 Squadron's ill fated flight of six R.E.8s was on a photo-reconnaissance mission near Douai when it encountered Jasta 11. All six R.E.8s were shot down within a matter of minutes, one of them becoming Manfred von Richthofen's forty first victory.
"Jastas 11" : (Royal Prussian Jagdstaffel 11 ("No 11 Fighter Squadron") was founded on 28 September 1916 from elements of 4 armee's Keks 1, 2 and 3 and mobilized on 11 October as part of the German Air Service's expansion program, forming permanent specialised fighter squadrons, or "Jastas". It became the most successful fighter squadron in the German Air Service
An eastbound with a U36C in the ill fated Kodachrome scheme on the point is climbing Cajon back in January of 1989. This might of been the only 36C that I photographed on the Santa Fe.
Nickel Plate 765 leads one of the excursions that was part of the ill-fated 1988 NRHS convention through West Trenton, New Jersey. This trip went from North Jersey through Philadelphia to Reading and the Blue Mountain & Reading, returning through Allentown.
Smart-looking but Ill-fated car 3260 takes a spin around the ground level Mattapan loop in preparation for its brief sprint back to Ashmont and the Red Line proper.
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
And no one knows
What it's like to be hated
To be fated to telling only lies
But my dreams they aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free
No one knows what its like
To feel these feelings
Like i do, and i blame you!
No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through
Amtrak Rohr Turboliner #151, and all of the other sets of turbos for that matter, were captive in Amtrak's "Empire Service". I had the opportunity to ride in the roomy cab of one of these noisy beast, and believe it or not, inside is very tranquil. I approached my conductor about entering the cab as we traveled east toward Amsterdam, NY. The line east of there to Albany had been rehabilitated to allow speeds of 110mph. The Turbos were known for hitting the mark regularly. The engineer agreed, so in I went. The cab was the size of a small NYC studio apartment. After a little small talk with the engine crew at the station stop, it all got quiet and off we went. Unfortunately on this day, we were not on the "fast track", which was a straight off the old NYC freight main at Hoffmans, NY, that led onto the Amtrak high speed line to Albany. We had to make it through the crossovers from the far side. This meant a starting speed of around 40mph. The engineer said he'd do his best. Our speed climbed fast at first then a bit slower. It topped out at 104mph before he had to begin slowing for Schenectady. Keep in mind, from Hoffmans to Schenectady is only about six miles. I rode the rest of the way into Albany, then it was back to the seat due to a new crew boarding for the run to New York.
On this fine spring day in 1989 we see the ill fated Turbo liner cutting under Breakneck Ridge north of Cold, Spring, NY. It will be in the Big Apple in about an hour.
A Santa Fe SD45, with the ill fated Shouldn't Paint So Fast merger scheme, leads an intermodal train downhill at the Tehachapi Loop in the summer of 1986.
I'm trying out a scanner hopefully to do better than my last one. An ill fated Rohr Turborliner roars north at Oscowanna, NY on a wonderful autumn day in 1986. I kind of actually liked these things. There was nothing like them in the U.S.A. and riding them were a blast. Once I managed a head end ride and on another time I was in the rear cab. The engineer was disappointed that he didn't get up to 100MPH when I rode up front,(we hit 96), and in the rear end ride left me with horizontal vertigo I will never forget!
Nickel Plate 765 leads one of the excursions that was part of the ill-fated 1988 NRHS convention through East Penn Junction, Pennsylvania. This trip went from Bound Brook, New Jersey through Philadelphia to Reading and the Blue Mountain & Reading, returning through Allentown. If I recall correctly, this was another late running trip, passing through the Allentown area in the evening hours. I was surprised when I processed this photo that some tracks from the Reading’s East Penn Junction yard were still in place.
Although there were 3 other people up there, I really felt that the Parasol was my very own refuge; a safe and quiet place above the loud and unsettling people below. Perhaps it speaks to my hypervigilance- somewhere to watch over everything without fear of being noticed. It was nice, and I doubt there are many places like it.
Anyway, this was about 6-minutes in to our ill-fated trip and already we'd been told about the imminent closure. It was such a shame- it introduced a sense of panic and rush to what was such a tranquil place.
Michael, ever the brave Northerner likes to break the rules and wanted to stay longer, but I hate altercations, so we left after such a short visit. I doubt I'll return to Seville soon, but if/when I do, the Parasol will definitely be at the top of my list.
'TAKEN AT SECRET LIFE LOUNGE FOR 10TH ANNIVERSARY PHOTO CONTEST' .
Ahn had never believed in boundaries.
Not the kind etched into heaven’s laws, nor the ones whispered in the caverns of Hell. And certainly not the ones that said angels and demons were fated only to destroy each other.
That rule had shattered the moment he met him.
The courtyard shouldn’t have been able to hold both heaven and hell at once.
And yet, in the soft glow of evening, it somehow did.
Ahn stood bathed in his own quiet radiance, white wings unfurled in a slow breath of feathers and light. His halo hovered above him like a fragile promise. He looked calm, almost ethereal… though his fingers trembled just barely where they hovered at Alex’s hips.
Alex wasn’t calm at all.
Heat rippled off his red skin in soft waves, flames licking along the tattered edges of his wings. His horns gleamed in the orange dusk. He looked like someone forged in a battlefield, carved from fire, made for violence.
But right now his expression was soft—devastatingly soft—as he looked at Ahn.
“You came alone,” Alex said, voice low, rough, like smoke dragged across velvet. “Angels don’t usually do that for demons.”
Ahn huffed a breath that might’ve been a laugh, though it sounded almost like surrender.
“I told you I’m not like most angels.”
“That’s what scares me,” Alex murmured, drawing him closer by the waist. “You do things to me.”
Ahn’s wings rustled—a nervous, involuntary flutter. “Good things?”
“Dangerous things.” Alex pressed their foreheads together. “Things that make me forget I’m not supposed to have you.”
Ahn’s smile was soft and heartbreaking. “Maybe you are supposed to.”
The fire between them crackled warmer. Alex’s hand slid up Ahn’s back, fingers brushing the base of those glowing feathers, and the angel shivered under the touch.
“You know what happens if heaven finds out,” Alex whispered.
Ahn leaned in, brushing his lips against Alex’s—barely there, barely a breath.
“I’m tired of letting fear decide who I’m allowed to love.”
Alex’s breath hitched—actually hitched.
“What are you saying?”
“That I choose you.”
Ahn’s voice was a whisper of light against the demon’s mouth.
“No matter who tries to stop it.”
And when they finally kissed—slow, dangerous, inevitable—it wasn’t heaven’s rules or hell’s fury that mattered.
It was just Ahn and Alex—an angel made of soft radiance, a demon carved from wildfire—finding a piece of eternity in each other’s arms.
Tucked up against a tree trunk within a spruce tree, a Saw-whet Owl (Aegolius acadicus) can be difficult to spot. Their tiny size--they stand only seven to eight inches tall--and striated coloration help them disappear into the dappled shadows. There, they wait for nightfall, when darkness overtakes light and the world is enveloped in the earth's own shadow. Then the owl strikes out into the air, flitting silently up to an open tree branch from which it can gaze down upon the leaf litter and await the movement of an ill-fated mouse. In the surprise of being eaten, the mice will lose their heads--often literally, with the owls eating only their heads!
Yes, I'm a bit red in the face because I've not been able to come up with a suitable explanation for the common English name of Erythranthe cardinalis: Monkeyflower. It is said the flower (of this tribe generally) ressembles a monkey's face; and hence, too, its orginal Latin name: Mimulus (small mimic). But I'm afraid I just don't see it. Anyway, the present name Erythranthe gives me no problem at all.
On November 4, 1835 John Lindley (1799-1865) introduced our plant to the members of the Horticultural Society in London. Waxing eloquent he continues: 'the beauty of which is so remarkable as to have induced the Council to direct a figure of it to be prepared for publication in the Transactions'. the plate for that 'figure' was based on the water color of the flower done by Sarah-Ann Drake (1803-1857), possibly the most prolific botanical illustrator of the nineteenth century.
This Monkeyflower hails from western North America where its seed was collected by that intrepid and ill-fated botanist and explorer David Douglas (1799-1834) - yes! he of the Douglas Fir. He came to a sticky end on the slopes of Mauna Kea, Hawai'i (see my earlier www.flickr.com/photos/87453322@N00/5557704063/in/photolis... ).
And I'm stood like a lightning rod, on my own in the flat landscape.
Waiting for my lift back to the Langstone Harbour Hotel and no idea when it will turn up.
The storm ended up dumping its load further west, over Langstone, Havant and Portsmouth so I was saved a good soaking.
This was just a hiccup in the heatwave, the following day even hotter, cloudless and more humid, so I spent most of it wandering around Chichester...until my ill-fated attempt to cross the Wadeway and its wild oyster-beds to the hotel.
As seen in a panned photograph from the West Santa Fe Road overpass just east of Edelstein, Illinois, Santa Fe EMD SD45 No. 5357 leads an eastbound freight down Edelstein Hill on August 20, 1988. The locomotive is painted in red and yellow “Kodachrome” colors of the ill-fated Southern Pacific Santa Fe merger.
G-BRAC Bristol B.175 Britannia 253F Redcoat Air Cargo
Wonderful view of ill-fated G-BRAC somewhere over England.
On 16 February 1980 flight RY103 to Shannon took off from Boston runway 33L at 14:08 in bad weather (800 m visibility in snow, fog and moderate to severe icing in precipitation).
The cargo aircraft reached an altitude of 1700 feet then started to descend and crashed into a wooded area adjacent to an industrial area. 7 out of 8 people on board died in the accident.
The NTSB determined that. the probable cause of the accident was degraded aerodynamic performance beyond the flight capabilities of the aircraft resulting from an accumulation of ice and snow on the airframe before takeoff and a further accumulation of ice when the aircraft was flown into moderate to severe icing conditions following takeoff.
(slide scan from my collection - taken by the late Stephen Piercey - co-founder of the magic Propliner magazine).
Around Roath Park, Cardiff. At the time, the Scott Monument was lit in the colours of the flag of Ukraine.
The Scott Monument in Roath Park Lake, Cardiff, was repainted and 'spring cleaned' in 2020 after a donation to the Council was made by a local man who had lost both his wife and his mother in 2019. Andy Temple and his wife frequently walked round the lake, as did his mother right up to the age of 97.
On 15 June 1910, Scott and the crew of the Terra Nova set sail from Cardiff bound for the Antarctic, where they arrived in October on their ill-fated mission. The ship depicted on the weathervane on top of the tower is of Scott's earlier vessel, The Discovery.
"It's the cure, it's a poison, I don't have a choice in
The silent defiance that I find my voice in
'Cause I have decided to just keep going
It's the rush, it's the feeling that keeps me believing
That I have the strength when I don't have a reason
To fight is my vice when I don't have the right
To just keep going."
Halestorm // Everest
⋆˖⁺₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆
⋆˖⁺₊☽ ᴘʜᴏᴛᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜ sᴘᴏɴsᴏʀs ☾₊‧⁺⋆
Wraith // Enigma Outfit
⋆˖⁺₊☽ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴀ ɪᴛᴇᴍs ☾₊‧⁺⋆
Mysteria // Bathory Vol.3 / Heavily Modified
⋆˖⁺₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆
⋆˖⁺₊☽ ʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏᴀʟs ☾₊‧⁺⋆
Head: Lelutka // Camila
Body: Reborn
⋆˖⁺₊ ☾ Body Mod: X
Skin: Voguel // Julie / Rosekiss
Body: Someone // Divinity Body Skins // Latte
⋆˖⁺₊ ☾ Addons: Someone // Cleavage Addon Set 1 / Luscious
Eyes: Someone // Duality
Ears: Swallow // Gauged S
⋆˖⁺₊☽ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ ᴇɴʜᴀɴᴄᴇʀs ☾₊‧⁺⋆
Hair: Moon // Petal
Makeup:
⋆˖⁺₊ ☾ Brows: Mila // Pencil Brows
⋆˖⁺₊ ☾ Lashes: Void // Demure
⋆˖⁺₊ ☾ Details: Dark Moon // Blush, Highlight & Photoready {The Fifty}
⋆˖⁺₊ ☾ Eyes: Reverie // Dusk Eyeshadow {Gothcore}
⋆˖⁺₊ ₊‧⁺⋆⋆˖⁺₊ ☾ Reverie // Essentials Eyeliner
⋆˖⁺₊ ☾ Lips: Someone // 90's Lipstick
Nails: E.Marie // Celeste
Tattoos:
⋆˖⁺₊ ☾Ladybird // Cricket / Witch
⋆˖⁺₊ ☾Lilithe // Cerridwen
⋆˖⁺₊ ☾Lilithe // Meliae
⋆˖⁺₊ ☾Lilithe // Selene
⋆˖⁺₊☽ ғɪᴛ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ☾₊‧⁺⋆
Wraith // Enigma Outfit
Tear // Ivy Fishnets
⋆˖⁺₊☽ ᴇᴍʙᴇʟʟɪsʜᴍᴇɴᴛs ☾₊‧⁺⋆
Enkeli // Cathedral Bag
Enkeli // Delfalco Hat
Evermore // Moon Bindi
Faetal // Mothika Necklace
Real Evil // Fated Necklace
Real Evil // Royalty Ring
Rotten // Dainty nose Junk II
Stoic // Pierced / Hearts
Violetility // Evenfall Tunnels
Ysoral // malie Luxe Wedding Ring
⋆˖⁺₊☽ sᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ☾₊‧⁺⋆
Pose: Mysteria // Bathory Vol.3 / Heavily Modified
Backdrop: Paleto // Panic Room
⋆˖⁺₊☽ ᴛᴇᴄʜ ᴄᴏʀɴᴇʀ ☾₊‧⁺⋆
Alchemy Viewer
Specter Skies // Monochrome Pack / Abandoned PBR
Light Prims
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Zabriskie Point is a part of the Amargosa Range located east of Death Valley in Death Valley National Park in California, United States, noted for its erosional landscape. It is composed of sediments from Furnace Creek Lake, which dried up 5 million years ago—long before Death Valley came into existence.
The location was named after Christian Brevoort Zabriskie, vice-president and general manager of the Pacific Coast Borax Company in the early 20th century. The company's twenty-mule teams were used to transport borax from its mining operations in Death Valley.
Millions of years prior to the actual sinking and widening of Death Valley and the existence of Lake Manly (see Geology of the Death Valley area), another lake covered a large portion of Death Valley including the area around Zabriskie Point. This ancient lake began forming approximately nine million years ago. During several million years of the lake's existence, sediments were collecting at the bottom in the form of saline muds, gravels from nearby mountains, and ashfalls from the then-active Black Mountain volcanic field. These sediments combined to form what we today call the Furnace Creek Formation. The climate along Furnace Creek Lake was dry, but not nearly as dry as in the present. Camels, mastodons, horses, carnivores, and birds left tracks in the lakeshore muds, along with fossilized grass and reeds. Borates, which made up a large portion of Death Valley's historical past were concentrated in the lakebeds from hot spring waters and alteration of rhyolite in the nearby volcanic field. Weathering and alteration by thermal waters are also responsible for the variety of colors represented there.
Regional mountain-building to the west influenced the climate to become more and more arid, causing the lake to dry up, and creating a dry lake. Subsequent widening and sinking of Death Valley and the additional uplift of today's Black Mountains tilted the area. This provided the necessary relief to accomplish the erosion that produced the badlands we see today. The dark-colored material capping the badland ridges (to the left in the panoramic photograph) is lava from eruptions that occurred three to five million years ago. This hard lava cap has retarded erosion in many places and possibly explains why Manly Beacon, the high outcrop to the right, is much higher than other portion of the badlands. (Manly Beacon was named in honor of William L. Manly, who along with John Rogers, guided members of the ill-fated party of Forty-niners out of Death Valley during the California Gold Rush of 1849.)
The primary source of borate minerals gathered from Death Valley's playas is Furnace Creek Formation. The Formation is made up of over 5000 feet (1500 m) of mudstone, siltstone, and conglomerate. The borates were concentrated in these lakebeds from hot spring waters and altered rhyolite from nearby volcanic fields.
Amtrak 2135, one of the gas turbine RTL Turboliner trains built by Rohr in 1976, is seen on a side track - once part of the loop track - at Cedar Hill Yard in Hamden, CT. The trainset, along with a couple of its siblings, were rebuilt in the late 90s into RTL-III trainsets for high-speed service between New York City and Albany. The project was ill-fated, and the rebuilt trainsets never entered service. The remaining un-rebuilt trainsets were eventually scrapped, with only the three rebuilt ones surviving to present day.