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www.youtube.com/watch?v=PyRZTAmcW7c
long black train
josh turner
There's a long black train
Coming down the line
Feeding off the souls that are lost and crying
Rails of sin only evil remains
Watch out brother for that long black train
Look to the heavens
You can look to the skies
You can find redemption
Staring back into your eyes
There is protection and there's peace the same
Burnin' your ticket for that long black train
'Cause there's victory in the Lord I say
Victory in the Lord
Cling to the Father and his holy name
And don't go riding on that long black train
There's an engineer on that long black train
Making you wonder if your ride is worth the pain
He's just a waitin' on your heart to say
Let me ride on that long black train
But you know there's victory in the Lord I say
Victory in the Lord
Cling to the Father and his holy name
And don't go riding on that long black train
Well I can hear the whistle from a mile away
It sounds so good
But I must stay away
That train is a beauty making everybody stare
But its only destination is the middle of nowhere
But you know there's victory in the Lord I say
Victory in the Lord
Cling to the Father and his holy name
And don't go riding on that long black train
I said cling to the father and his holy name and don't go ridin' on that black train
Yes watch out brother for that long black train
That devil's a drivin' that long black train
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Joshua O. Turner
Long Black Train lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Ole Media Management Lp
"When a newborn squeezes his father's finger for the first time with his small fist, he has trapped him forever."
GABRIEL GARCIA MARQUEZ
This isn't my father, but it reminds me of him, as he loved to fish. He's now 92 and doesn't fish now but the memories we had together fishing, camping and backpacking were some of the best times, and lessons, of my life. Thanks for sharing nature with me dad. Glad I caught your addiction to it and learned so much from you.
Did you know:
"In 1909 a Spokane, Washington woman named Sonora Smart Dodd, one of six children raised by a widower, tried to establish an official equivalent to Mother’s Day for male parents. She went to local churches, the YMCA, shopkeepers and government officials to drum up support for her idea, and she was successful: Washington State celebrated the nation’s first statewide Father’s Day on June 19, 1910." history.com
Wishing all father's, present and gone, a Happy Father's Day!
Created in DDG Text to Dream using Linwhite's prompts:
Ancient wizard, Face full of wrinkles, with brown eyes, slight smile, highly intricate, delicate detailed complex, vibrant colors by Laura Burch, Tom Bagshaw...
Filters: PSE21.
Some hand painting.
Thanks for your visit, faves, and kind comments.
Hi everyone,
I was so fortunate this past weekend to have a chance to spend some time with a local fox family right in my part of Ontario.
This is 'Father Fox'. What an amazing few moments we had together. He was really quite comfortable with my presence. One of his kits wasn't far away.
Wildlife adds so much to city life. We must find ways to coexist with it.
I'm also on:
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All images are copyright protected so please do not use any of my work for commercial purposes.
Additionally, please do not contact me if you want to do business in NFT's as I am not interested. However, prints are available through my website above with significant new content being added by the week.
I bambini imparano più da come ti comporti che da cosa gli insegni. (William Edward Burghardt Du Bois)
Children learn more from how you behave than what you teach them. (William Edward Burghardt Du Bois)
... Perhaps! A pair of White-crowned Sparrows (Zonotrichia leucophrys) The father with the white head is hiding in the undergrowth.
RLART
“A Great Soul” by Maya Angelou
“A great soul
serves everyone
all the time.
A great soul
never dies.
It brings us together
again and again.”
Asian elephant***Elephas maximus
Tierpark Hagenbeck
Hamburg
female Anjuli, born July 2015
Mother: Yashoda Father: Gajendra
male Kanja, born January 2016
Mother: Kandy Father: Gajendra
***********************************************************************
ANJULI gestorben heute, 13.06.2018
KANJA gestorben 08.06.2018
Beide Elefanten Kinder starben an der Viruserkrankung Elefanten Herpes Virus EEHV 1
Both elephant children died from the viral disease elephant herpes virus EEHV 1
Rest in Peace my lovely Babys :'(
My father-in-law's tools neatly arranged on a board in his garden shed. They have been gathering dust since his death some five years ago.
Wikipedia: Wat Pho, also spelled Wat Po, is a Buddhist temple complex in the Phra Nakhon District, Bangkok, Thailand. It is on Rattanakosin Island, directly south of the Grand Palace. Known also as the Temple of the Reclining Buddha, its official name is Wat Phra Chetuphon Wimon Mangkhalaram Rajwaramahawihan.
Phra Maha Chedi Si Rajakarn is a group of four large stupas, each 42 metres high. These four chedis are dedicated to the first four Chakri kings. The first, in green mosaic tiles, was constructed by Rama I to house the remnants of the great Buddha from Ayuthaya, which was scorched to remove its gold covering by the Burmese. Two more were built by Rama III, one in white tiles to hold the ashes of his father Rama II, another in yellow for himself. A fourth in blue was built by Rama IV who then enclosed the four chedis leaving no space for more to be built.
My dad wasn't very fond of dogs - this was probably the closest he got to them! - a gift from a dog lover ( My mum )
Schloss Rheydt / Mönchengladbach / North Rhine-Westphalia / Germany
Album of Germany (the west): www.flickr.com/photos/tabliniumcarlson/albums/72157713209...
Album of Mönchengladbach: www.flickr.com/photos/tabliniumcarlson/albums/72157714085...
Happy Father's Day. My dad's wedding ring and stationery--probably 80 years old from the USS Texas, which he served on. In the background is a pin from TWA, where he worked and also a pocket watch of my father-in-laws. Both have passed, both remembered this week.
Happy Fathers Day Love♥
Thank you for being the most amazing best Pops there ever was to our daughters♥♥♥ We have such a beautiful family thanks to you and all you do! Love you millions and forever ♥
IMPORTANT: for non-pro users who read the info on a computer, just enlarge your screen to 120% (or more), then the full text will appear below the photo with a white background - which makes reading so much easier.
The color version of the photo above is here: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/ticino-best-photos-of-southern-...
THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO:
So far there's only been one photo in my gallery that hasn't been taken in my garden ('The Flame Rider', captured in the Maggia Valley: www.flickr.com/photos/191055893@N07/53563448847/in/datepo... ) - which makes the image above the second time I've "strayed from the path" (although not very far, since the photo was taken only approximately 500 meters from my house).
Overall, I'll stick to my "only-garden rule", but every once in a while I'll show you a little bit of the landscape around my village, because I think it will give you a better sense of just how fascinating this region is, and also of its history.
The title I chose for the photo may seem cheesy, and it's certainly not very original, but I couldn't think of another one, because it's an honest reflection of what I felt when I took it: a profound sense of peace - although if you make it to the end of this text you'll realize my relationship with that word is a bit more complicated.
I got up early that day; it was a beautiful spring morning, and there was still a bit of mist in the valley below my village which I hoped would make for a few nice mood shots, so I quickly grabbed my camera and went down there before the rising sun could dissolve the magical layer on the scenery.
Most human activity hadn't started yet, and I was engulfed in the sounds of the forest as I was walking the narrow trail along the horse pasture; it seemed every little creature around me wanted to make its presence known to potential mates (or rivals) in a myriad of sounds and voices and noises (in case you're interested, here's a taste of what I usually wake up to in spring, but you best use headphones: www.youtube.com/watch?v=AfoCTqdAVCE )
Strolling through such an idyllic landscape next to grazing horses and surrounded by birdsong and beautiful trees, I guess it's kind of obvious one would feel the way I described above and choose the title I did, but as I looked at the old stone buildings - the cattle shelter you can see in the foreground and the stable further up ahead on the right - I also realized how fortunate I was.
It's hard to imagine now, because Switzerland is one of the wealthiest countries in the world today, but the men and women who had carried these stones and constructed the walls of these buildings were among the poorest in Europe. The hardships the people in some of the remote and little developed valleys in Ticino endured only a few generations ago are unimaginable to most folks living in my country today.
It wasn't uncommon that people had to sell their own kids as child slaves - the girls had to work in factories or in rice fields, the boys as "living chimney brushes" in northern Italy - just because there wasn't enough food to support the whole family through the harsh Ticino winters.
If you wonder why contemporary Swiss historians speak of "slaves" as opposed to child laborers, it's because that's what many of them actually were: auctioned off for a negotiable prize at the local market, once sold, these kids were not payed and in many cases not even fed by their masters (they had to beg for food in the streets or steal it).
Translated from German Wikipedia: ...The Piazza grande in Locarno, where the Locarno Film Festival is held today, was one of the places where orphans, foundlings and children from poor families were auctioned off. The boys were sold as chimney sweeps, the girls ended up in the textile industry, in tobacco processing in Brissago or in the rice fields of Novara, which was also extremely hard work: the girls had to stand bent over in the water for twelve to fourteen hours in all weathers. The last verse of the Italian folk song 'Amore mio non piangere' reads: “Mamma, papà, non piangere, se sono consumata, è stata la risaia che mi ha rovinata” (Mom, dad, don't cry when I'm used up, it was the rice field that destroyed me.)... de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kaminfegerkinder
The conditions for the chimney sweeps - usually boys between the age of 8 and 12 (or younger, because they had to be small enough to be able to crawl into the chimneys) - were so catastrophic that many of them didn't survive; they died of starvation, cold or soot in their lungs - as well as of work-related accidents like breaking their necks when they fell, or suffocatig if they got stuck in inside a chimney. This practice of "child slavery" went on as late as the 1950s (there's a very short article in English on the topic here: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spazzacamini and a more in depth account for German speakers in this brief clip: www.youtube.com/watch?v=gda8vZp_zsc ).
Now I don't know if the people who built the old stone houses along my path had to sell any of their kids, but looking at the remnants of their (not so distant) era I felt an immense sense of gratitude that I was born at a time of prosperity - and peace - in my region, my country and my home. Because none of it was my doing: it was simple luck that decided when and where I came into this world.
It also made me think of my own family. Both of my grandparents on my father's side grew up in Ticino (they were both born in 1900), but while they eventually left Switzerland's poorest region to live in its richest, the Kanton of Zurich, my grandfather's parents relocated to northern Italy in the 1920s and unfortunately were still there when WWII broke out.
They lost everything during the war, and it was their youngest daughter - whom I only knew as "Zia" which means "aunt" in Italian - who earned a little money to support herself and my great-grandparents by giving piano lessons to high-ranking Nazi officers and their kids (this was towards the end of the war when German forces had occupied Italy).
I never knew that about her; Zia only very rarely spoke of the war, but one time when I visited her when she was already over a 100 years old (she died at close to 104), I asked her how they had managed to survive, and she told me that she went to the local prefecture nearly every day to teach piano. "And on the way there would be the dangling ones" she said, with a shudder.
I didn't get what she meant, so she explained. Visiting the city center where the high ranking military resided meant she had to walk underneath the executed men and women who were hanging from the lantern posts along the road (these executions - often of civilians - were the Germans' retaliations for attacks by the Italian partisans).
I never forgot her words - nor could I shake the look on her face as she re-lived this memory. And I still can't grasp it; my house in Ticino is only 60 meters from the Italian border, and the idea that there was a brutal war going on three houses down the road from where I live now in Zia's lifetime strikes me as completely surreal.
So, back to my title for the photo above. "Peace". It's such a simple, short word, isn't it? And we use it - or its cousin "peaceful" - quite often when we mean nice and quiet or stress-free. But if I'm honest I don't think I know what it means. My grandaunt Zia did, but I can't know. And I honestly hope I never will.
I'm sorry I led you down such a dark road; I usually intend to make people smile with the anecdotes that go with my photos, but this one demanded a different approach (I guess with this latest image I've strayed from the path in more than one sense, and I hope you'll forgive me).
Ticino today is the region with the second highest average life expectancy in Europe (85.2 years), and "The Human Development Index" of 0.961 in 2021 was one of the highest found anywhere in the world, and northern Italy isn't far behind. But my neighbors, many of whom are now in their 90s, remember well it wasn't always so.
That a region so poor it must have felt like purgatory to many of its inhabitants could turn into something as close to paradise on Earth as I can imagine in a person's lifetime should make us all very hopeful. But, and this is the sad part, it also works the other way 'round. And I believe we'd do well to remember that, too.
To all of you - with my usual tardiness but from the bottom of my heart - a happy, healthy, hopeful 2025 and beyond.