View allAll Photos Tagged FigTree
L'immagine non ha subito ritocchi ma solo un resize.
This photo is SOOC, there is no editing, just a resize (SOOC = Straight Out Of Camera).
Building a tunnel and saving the environment
You may be wondering (if you're a regular follower of my Flickr Stream) why the tunneling methods differ at each end of Moore Park (the current project of the construction of the CBD and South East Light Rail).
As explained by the Environmental Officer for this section of the build the box construction (pictured) is used to preserve the root structure of the magnificent Morteon Bay fig trees that line Anzac Parade at this point.
The more "open cut" method on the western extremity of the parklands is being used as there are no sensitive issues evident in this area.
Simple and sensible - and great to see that the issue of the trees is being addressed.
View back towards the B Shredder from No.3 Diffuser Conveyor. Mill building on left engineering offices and a very old fig tree at top left.
This has come out a little more harshly coloured than in the original. this painting got into a phase which my husband calls "knitting"in which I get carried into too much realistic detail.I did this from memory of landscapes I have observed and drawn.The subject was chosen because the exhibition was held at the "figg cafe" in Petone wellington,Newzealand.
Available.
Sold during the 2010 Chichester open studios aer trail.
Is not willing to understand it. Similar are those who say that they know truth or the things of faith,
a couple of figtrees,one leafless,under the ridge at Parrot's Nest
Wilson's River Valley ,NSW Australia
Part of the wine making process now becoming part of the landscape at the Bollène France Passion.
Click on image to enlarge
O that awful deepdown torrent O and the sea the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the figtrees in the Alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets and the pink and blue and yellow houses and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl where I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes. --Molly
“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar