Science Fiction Unleashed
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Edwin B. Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge, Oceanville, NJ, USA
DSC_0868 - Processed in CaptureNX 2 2.4.7 & GIMP 2.8.6
Date Shot:7/31/2016 18:36:00.70
Device:Nikon D3300
Lens:VR 18-55mm f/3.5-5.6G
Focal Length:18mm
Focus Mode:AF-A
AF-Area Mode:Dynamic
VR:ON
Aperture:f/7.1
Shutter Speed:1/160s
Exposure Mode:Manual
Exposure Comp.:0EV
Metering:Spot
ISO Sensitivity:ISO 100
White Balance:Cloudy, 0, 0
Active D-Lighting:Auto
Picture Control:[VI] VIVID
Sharpening:5
Contrast:+1
Saturation:-1
macro mondays theme: my favourite novel (fiction)
635 days in ice: Shackleton’s Incredible Voyage (by Alfred Lansing)
In August 1914, polar explorer Ernest Shackleton boarded the 'Endurance' and set sail for Antarctica, where he planned to cross the last uncharted continent on foot. In January 1915, after battling its way through a thousand miles of pack ice and only a day's sail short of its destination, the Endurance became locked in an island of ice. Thus began the legendary ordeal of Shackleton and his crew of 27 men.
635 Tage im Eis: Die Shackleton-Expedition (by Alfred Lansing)
Am Anfang steht der Plan von der erstmaligen Durchquerung des weißen Kontinents. Doch das gewaltige Naturwunder Antarktis wird im Jahr 1915 für die Crew der 'Endurance' zur Hölle aus Eis. Beharrlich verfolgt Expeditionsleiter Sir Ernest Shackleton bald nur noch ein Ziel: 27 Männer lebend wieder in die Zivilisation zurückzubringen.
From 1925 to 1963 Puget Sound Pulp and Timber Co. operated on the waterfront in Bellingham and then was sold to GP, Georgia Pacific which for the most part made a most vital and precious commodity, toilet paper. :) It was THE job to have in that wonderful town until 4 days before Christmas, 1997 when the last rolls of Quilted Northern, Angel Soft, and MD were packaged and shipped.
Inside one of the many brick buildings stood these beauties and at great expense the city was able to spare them and display them in what is now a growing park and community center and in doing so giving a nod to where the city came from with an eye to where it is going. I'm hoping Howard Ryder stops by and gives us more info as he was one of the 1,000 plus that lost their jobs that day.
I am assuming that that is an operational paper mill providing me with that wonderful steamy background and lighting, it's really something to see and along with the 13 breweries makes the trek worth it. :-)
This base started out as something for my Battle for the Moon theme but it ended up with too much 1970s sci-fi paperback flavour, so I just tagged along for the ride :-)
Wat Samroung Andet
Phnom Penh
While I was having a Coke at a corner drink stand, scrolling through the photos I had just taken, this girl walks over to my table and shyly asks if I would take her photo. And the rest is history. 😁 The pose was all hers, by the way!
I cried his feet clean, caressed him dry with my hair.
and he touched me,
and he blessed me,
and he walked away
left me to my life.
Pictures of the outer void
Retratos do vazio exterior
Lisboa, Portugal, 2023
Folow me on Instagram too / Me siga no Instagram também: Contemplatives: www.instagram.com/yuribittar/
Street: www.instagram.com/yuribittar/
[PT] Entre ruas, sombras e ficções
Contemplo ruas, pessoas e pedras, entre ficções e esquecimentos, inspirado no poeta, talvez, percebo as sombras dos gestos de outros, a poesia do crepúsculo, um desassossego.
“...todos somos igualmente derivados de não sei quê, sombras de gestos feitos por outrem, efeitos encarnados, consequências que sentem.” (Fernando Pessoa, Livro do Desassossego, v.164)
[ES] Entre calles, sombras y ficciones
Contemplo calles, personas y piedras, entre ficciones y olvidos, inspirado en el poeta, quizás, percibo las sombras de los gestos de otros, la poesía del crepúsculo, una inquietud.
“...todos somos igualmente derivados de no sé qué, sombras de gestos hechos por otra persona, efectos encarnados, consecuencias que sienten.” (Fernando Pessoa, Libro del desasosiego, v.164)
[ENG] Between streets, shadows and fictions
I contemplate streets, people and stones, between fictions and oblivion, inspired by the poet, perhaps, I perceive the shadows of the gestures of others, the poetry of twilight, a restlessness.
“...we are all equally derived from I don't know what, shadows of gestures made by someone else, embodied effects, consequences they feel.” (Fernando Pessoa, Book of Disquiet, v.164)
#Lisboa #lisboaportugal #Lisbon #lisboalovers #sobaluzboa #underthegoodlight #lisbonstreets #streetphotography #fotografiaderua #fotografiacallejera #streetlovers #streetshot #streetphoto #callejeros #callejeando #streetphotographyworldwide #yb_walkers #josetorowalkers #tv_strideby #stridebypoetry #blancoynegro #blackandwhitephotography #euamopretoebranco #PBMag #brbw #pretoebranco
No one paid much attention when the spider first showed up at school. Sure, he was a bit too small to fit the standard desk, but the teacher was accustomed to meeting students' special needs. She set him up with a shoebox, which she placed on his desk top, and allowed him to climb the walls or pipes or blackboard if he had trouble following the lessons.
Other than a few boys threatening to squish him (which really, was not that unusual for new kids) the spider's life in school was fairly uneventful. Until the day he turned in his science project.
"What's this?" the teacher asked.
"It's my model of the solar system," the spider said proudly. He'd been up half the night spinning it, and then out all morning coaxing dew drops into just the right places. He might not have been as talented as his classmates when it came to sports, or math (having eight legs, he found the whole business of counting to 10 using fingers and toes completely confusing and confounding, and had trouble moving past that) but here, in the world of science, the spider felt he truly excelled. He held up his model so that tiny images of forest and sky could be seen in the droplets, suspended upsidedown, signifying everything.
He smiled his widest spider smile, excepting praise. But the teacher said, "Oh, no. This is all wrong. I mean... where is Earth? Where is the sun? I don't see any labels on your planets and... really... why are there so many globules? And why aren't they arranged in a straight line, the way we taught you?"
The spider wanted to answer that, from his perspective, this WAS an accurate model of... not just the solar system, but the whole universe. He also wanted to point out that... even with eight eyes... his vision was not his primary sense and he mainly saw blobs of dark and light.
But he didn't say these things because he'd learned that people, in general, did not want to hear them. They did not want to know about other, different ideas and perspectives. In school, they simply wanted you to tell them what they'd told you.
So the teacher stood there frowning, not even remarking on the brilliance of the spider's work; the effort he'd invested; the way he'd captured the whole wide world in tiny glistening droplets. And the spider knew right then that school was not the place for him. He dropped to the floor, scurried out of the building and headed back to the forest.
"What did you learn at school today?" his mother asked when he got home.
And the little spider looked up at her, all eight eyes brimming with tears. "Everything," he answered. "Today I learned everything I'll ever need to know about people and the people world, and that's quite enough. I'm not going back."
I belong in a world where reality and fiction fall together.
Along with hopes and dreams that fly away like a feather.
Wishing is never enough, only faith and effort matters...
And one must be motivated enough to do it before it all shatters.
These words flow so well, rhyming like patterns.
Like the perfect life I see; glowing like lanterns.
Life is starting to make sense to me;
It's starting to fit perfectly like my house key...
Opening up doors that never existed in the first place.
Everything has it's own organized space.
Life, Death, Reality and Fiction:
These are the four words I trust in, This is no superstition!
Many possibilities are flowing through my mind,
Some impossible, others very legit and easy to find...
But all of them are staring at me right in the eyes,
Which one can I grab? Are there any in disguise?
Now I'm talking to myself... Is that okay?
I think so... because it's allowing me to write down what I have to say.
Maybe if I stick with this, I can be a writer?
I could express my opinions to others, that would make the sun shine brighter
On my world; where I'll keep trying,
Until the end, eyes closed on a bed somewhere, dying....
Let's make this life something worth living for
Because before you know it there will be a lock on the door.