View allAll Photos Tagged Footfall
47593 Galloway Princess rolls into Skipton station with 1Z42 from Appleby with passengers eagerly waiting to board and still making their way towards the subway.
''Footfalls echo in the memory, down the passage we did not take, towards the door we never opened, into the rose garden.”
― T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets [Burnt Norton]
________________________________________________
Mixmaster 18 Challenge:
www.flickr.com/groups/artisticmanipulation/discuss/721576...
➤ Your image must feature at least one rose.
➤ It must include at least one man-made object.
➤ You must incorporate a poetic textual component, like a poem or musical score (poetic song lyrics and self-penned poems okay).
➤ You must also include one – and only one – animal but ...
➤ NO PEOPLE (or mannequins).
All images used are my own: fortuitously I took some photos of roses at the weekend! :-)
Groundskeeping
Throughout a lifetime
Our garden prose
Has carried heart weight
And it has been amongst the boughs
And arbors and mindful footfall
That new seasons are nourished
And my fingers are rooted in yours
.
Happy Valentine's Day to my love. xoxoxo
.
.
©Christine A. Owens 2.14.18
.
I really appreciate your comments and faves. I'm not a hoarder of contacts, but enjoy real-life, honest people. You are much more likely to get my comments and faves in return if you fit the latter description. Just sayin. :oD
.
If you like b/w photography and/or poetry check out my page at:
expressionsbychristine.blogspot.com/</a
"Snow Soliloquy" by Teddi B.
I find myself in snow-covered dreams
I take up a brush
and move it across the canvas
outlining rooftops blanketed by white
and I know that
somewhere, beyond the bend of the road
a shining lake beckons us to skate
and you and I walk close together
our footfalls like velvet slippers
stepping into ice cream
upon that road
surrounded by the breathing forest
I find myself in snow-covered dreams
* Thank you to Teddi, my baby girl/good friend, for posing with me, and for the poem she wrote for me, about my picture. Never knew that trying to score points would win me a real friendship. Best game I ever lost. Snapped this at Neva River maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Neva%20River/194/129/21 *
Edinburgh’s Jacob’s Ladder is a steep pedestrian pathway and steps, carved into the volcanic rock of Calton Hill.
It is an important, historic, atmospheric pedestrian route linking the Old and New Towns of Edinburgh. It provides a valuable shortcut between Calton Road and Regent Road, giving access to Waterloo Place, Calton Hill, St Andrew’s House and the old Royal High School. By 2018, the route had become neglected, overgrown and covered in graffiti. It was also completely unlit. These issues made people wary of using the route, and footfall decreased.
The New Waverley Community Fund supported Jacob’s Ladder as a partnership project between Edinburgh World Heritage (funded partly by Historic Environment Scotland) and the City of Edinburgh Council.
Edinburgh’s Jacob’s Ladder first appears on a map in 1784, though it probably existed long before then, and its route appears to have changed over the years. Originally, it led all the way to the Old Calton Burial Ground and was used as a funeral processional route. It was altered to accommodate the creation of Regent Road, and the building of the Old Bridewell Jail (now demolished) in 1791. The construction of the railway line in the mid-1800s led to further changes
P.S.
What is Jacob’s Ladder?
The story of ‘Jacob’s dream’ and a stairway to heaven appears in various sacred texts and works of art, perhaps most notably by William Blake (1757–1827) and the façade of Bath Abbey. There are a number of steep pathways known as ‘Jacob’s Ladder’ in countries throughout the world, including Australia, New Zealand and the island of St Helena.
Happy Saturday for Stairs!
'The Brack' is another unfortunate anglicization & probably stems from 'Beinn Bhreac' (Speckled Hill).
I'm happy to give some context to the unassuming Luss Hills here (far left), an area which helped maintain my sanity during the past 15 months. You can make out that, in their own right, they present a fairly impressive & distinct skyline. Located at the virtual gateway to the Highlands renders them something of an afterthought to most, however, & they quietly go about their business unburdened by the excessive footfall suffered by the nearby Arrochar Hills or Ben Lomond.
Loch Long's arrow-straight characteristics allow the U.K.'s ministry of defence the convenience of having the ideal conditions for testing submarine missiles up its length. Isn't the human race just wonderful! (!).
The world has tilted,
edges fraying as storms gather,
the weight of silence
as heavy as the years gone by,
heavier still for those who wait
to be seen, to be heard,
to be free in ways others
take for granted.
We will not stand in the shadows
where history has placed us,
each footfall now bold and defiant,
refusing to be erased,
our stories woven into a tapestry
too strong and vibrant to ignore.
The past has tried to bind us,
marked our paths with walls
and voices that said, not for you,
but our hands are steady,
our voices clear, growing louder
with each echo of all who came before us
and all who walk beside us now.
We are as resilient as the dawn,
brightening each corner
they said we’d never reach.
In our unity, we carry forward this promise:
we will not yield,
we will not shrink back.
The horizon glows with the light
of what we are becoming,
and we will meet it together,
unyielding and free.
We will not go back.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose garden.
From Four Quartets, Burnt Norton, TS Eliot
The bluebell has many names: English bluebell, wild hyacinth, wood bell, bell bottle, Cuckoo’s Boots, Wood Hyacinth, Lady’s Nightcap and Witches’ Thimbles, Hyacinthoides non-scripta
It is against the law to intentionally pick, uproot or destroy bluebells
If you plant bluebells, you should make sure it's the English bluebell, not the Spanish version. This is a more vigorous plant and could out-compete our delicate native flower
Almost half the world's bluebells are found in the UK, they’re relatively rare in the rest of the world
Bluebell colonies take a long time to establish - around 5-7 years from seed to flower.
Bluebells can take years to recover after footfall damage. If a bluebell’s leaves are crushed, they die back from lack of food as the leaves cannot photosynthesise.
If you could smell this picture it would smell amazing. The bluebells at Emsworthy Mire seem better than I can ever remember this year, perhaps less footfall due to the pandemic has helped the bluebells flourish.
This is the cliché shot of the barn, I did take some others from the other side that I'll post at a later date.
Number 10 in the recent set from Birmingham, UK.
The sense of abandonment is all too evident in this shot of the 1960s-built Bullring open air market, now closed and ready to be sacrificed as part of the long-talked-about Bullring Redevelopment Project.
Pallets lie in the subway along with other market detritus, and the floor, once kept reasonably polished with the passage of thousands of feet each day, now sees little footfall and you can almost taste the grime.
The Suite Centre, along with the other commercial establishments, have announced and finished their 'massive clearance sales', and the tills will ring no more. Even the sole pedestrian caught in shot, cigarette in hand and rolled newspaper stuffed in jacket pocket, is striding purposefully through towards the city centre - there will be nothing for him here for a while.
Commenting switched-off, thanks
Ilford HP5
May2000
a single figure walks the tiled corridor of steel and glass, framed by the long breath of waiting trains. somewhere in the vanishing point ahead, a journey begins—or ends. in the echo of footfalls and symmetry, the architecture of transit becomes a cathedral of stillness.
As I stepped cautiously into the embrace of the dark forest, the towering trees loomed overhead like ancient sentinels, their gnarled branches intertwining to form a natural cathedral. The air was thick with the earthy scent of damp soil and moss, while a gentle mist rolled in, swirling around my feet and cloaking the surroundings in an ethereal haze. The soft rustle of leaves whispered secrets as I ventured deeper, each footfall accompanied by the subtle echo of calming music that seemed to flow from the shadows, harmonizing with the forest's pulse. Hidden creatures watched me with curious eyes, while the distant howl of wolves punctuated the serene atmosphere, reminding me of the wild mystery that thrived here. In this enchanting realm, nature unfolded its beauty, captivating my senses and inviting me to lose myself in its depths and giving me the inner peace that helped me shut off from the busy world.
CK's Dark Forest Is a beautiful place to go, explore or just relax and listen to the sounds of nature, from the birds in the trees, to the wolves howling, this sim really takes your breath away!
Part of Part of the Nature Collective.
TNC Social Media Info:
Discord • Facebook • Instagram • Primfeed • SL Group • Website
To view more images of Lower Slaughter, please click
"here" !
Please do not insert images, or group invites; thank you!
Lower Slaughter is a village in the English county of Gloucestershire, located in the Cotswold district, 4 miles (6.4 km) south west of the town of Stow-on-the-Wold. The village is built on both banks of the River Eye, which also flows through Upper Slaughter. At the west end of the village there is a 19th-century water mill with an undershot waterwheel and a chimney for additional steam power. There is a ford where the river widens in the village and several small stone footbridges join the two sides of the community. While the mill is built of red brick most of the 16th and 17th century homes in the village use Cotswold sandstone and are adorned with mullioned windows and often with other embellishments such as projecting gables. Records exist showing that Lower Slaughter has been inhabited for over 1000 years. The Domesday Book entry has the village name as “Sclostre”. It further notes that in 1066 and 1086 that the manor was in the sheriff's hands. Lower Slaughter Manor, a Grade-II listed 17th-century house, was granted to Sir George Whitmore in 1611 and remained in his family until 1964. The 13th century Anglican parish church is dedicated to St. Mary the Virgin. Much of the current structure was built in 1866; however, the spire and peal of six bells was recently restored. In May 2013 it was reported in the national news that the Parish Council were fiercely opposed to the presence of an icebox tricycle selling ice creams for seven days a week, six months of the year, citing that the trading times were excessive, increased footfall would prevent the grass from growing and that children could climb on the trike and fall into the nearby river.
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
The Slaughters Country Inn is privately owned and offers a relaxed ambience, a style that is sympathetically balanced between the original features of a 17th Century building and contemporary design. The blend of old and new creates the perfect retreat in a beautiful country location
Bill Cox closed his greengrocery in the middle of February. He's the grandson of the founder of the business which opened in 1888. The footfall in Wigston has dropped dramatically since covid which made it difficult for him to keep it going with fresh produce. A shame as he sold fruit amd veg of better quality and cheeper prices thean the local supermarkets
A stop at the Allt Chranaidh (Wailing Widow) falls was always planned and I think this was the first time I had been when the sky wasn't flat grey. There wasn't a huge amount of water flowing in the stream so we felt confident to cross for the first time since Iain took an unplanned bath a couple of years back. This could also be our last visit for a while as the access path is in a very sorry state from the amount of visiting footfall and really could do with either being repaired or at least left to recover naturally.
..Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
My words echo
Thus, in your mind. - T.S.Elliot
We must have chosen the coldest of days to visit the Seated Man at Castleton Rigg on the North York Moors. A biting, icy wind with snow on the tops!. It is a 3 metre high painted bronze statue, created by the artist Sean Henry, and commissioned by the David Ross Foundation. David Ross is the co-founder of the Carphone Warehouse and owns the land that the statue stands on. Some people say that it looks like Jeremy Corbyn!
**The Seated Man is on top of Castleton Rigg above Westerdale. It is visible from the road out of Castleton towards Hutton le Hole. You have to park on the roadside and walk approx. half a mile uphill to reach it.
Published in the Northern Echo “Walks” section 22-03-2018.
**AN UPDATE ON THE SEATED MAN. It has been moved to the Yorkshire Sculpture Park, 7 miles south of Wakefield. The reason given was it had proved so popular that the increased footfall on the paths up to it was causing too much damage to the moorland.
Many thanks to all who take the time to view, comment or fav my images.
Six things you might not know about Bluebells.
1 - The bluebell has many names: English bluebell, wild hyacinth, wood bell, bell bottle, Cuckoo’s Boots, Wood Hyacinth, Lady’s Nightcap and Witches’ Thimbles, Hyacinthoides non-scriptaIt.
2 - It is against the law to intentionally pick, uproot or destroy bluebells.
3 - If you plant bluebells, you should make sure it's the English bluebell, not the Spanish version. This is a more vigorous plant and could out-compete our delicate native flower.
4 - Almost half the world's bluebells are found in the UK, they’re relatively rare in the rest of the world.
5 - Bluebell colonies take a long time to establish - around 5-7 years from seed to flower.
6 - Bluebells can take years to recover after footfall damage. If a bluebell’s leaves are crushed, they die back from lack of food as the leaves cannot photosynthesise.
An early rise this morning to check my fitness level in natures gym. Or the Old Man of Store as most people know it as!
I did not go up the Storr during lockdown. It felt wrong somehow posting images from sites that many of you were craving to visit whilst you were stuck indoors. A massive well done to the six person crew sorting out the path. It is improving the experience, even though it is a shame that the vast footfall has caused the erosion. But then, I suppose, myself and the twenty toggers lined up above me on Photographers Knoll keep drawing more visitors!
Looking south the sunrise did not amount to much this morning. But those TPE devotees will know that at this time of year you do get intense saturated side light from the east.
My first ever climb up the Storr was as a truculent teenager, dragging my parents behind me and moaning at their snails pace. So, on the way down today, I had empathy for the numerous frustrated teenagers who were yet again, waiting for parents who had stopped once more to admire the view. I finally have empathy with my parents as I am now older than they would have bee on that trip. My lungs are not what they were, let alone the leg muscles.
“The Wolf Moon cometh; it cometh for us all
and stitched between the darkness let us unpick
the seams that darkness sewed
so that the light can once again enthral.” - AP
Soundtrack : www.youtube.com/watch?v=NMSbOJCb90s
MOON SHADOW – CAT STEVENS
The Wolf Moon came
embraced the Earth
with icy talons painted
patterns on the water
the Universe breathed
a heavy forlorn sigh
a whisper that penetrated
deeply; piercing skin
and blood red drops
dripped; saturated
the Moon was bathed
in golden glowing embers
fire without a warmth
frosted air that brought
the silence where truth grows
the gaps filled up with honesty
smooth amid the rough-hewn edges
of rocks and craters
of Yin and Yang; stitched between the seams
I lay there in the Winter night
afraid to move and feeling small
the Winter Sun crossed over then
with ease; with grace
with soft intent it brought to mind long lost footfalls
the memories of the ancient warriors
the imprint of their scattered makeshift swords
the carvings on their grey stone walls
that linger now; not faded; where the sun can't reach
borne out of scholarly desires to teach
but if they never see the light
and if we do not seek or fight
then they will always be in darkness
and we will always be in ignorance
and nothing will ever rise but fall
into a dark abyss; a well of fruitlessness
bottomless; a void devoid of sound and light
where even echoes cease to fight
falling ,,,
falling ...
the Wolves are calling
time is of the essence
time is right
there is still time
time enough to set things right.
- AP - Copyright © remains with and is the intellectual property of the author
I stayed up all night to get some pictures of the Wolf Blood Lunar Eclipse and my efforts were pitifully mediocre, so I have done a composite of one of them with my frozen pond. Other “moon” is my largest crystal ball that I hoped would create enough movement to prevent the pond from freezing over, but found that it had stuck fast … no wind, you see and temperatures plummeted to minus 2 … very unusual for where I live and the moon was the brightest moon I've ever seen! The pond was still frozen this afternoon, so I switched on the water fountain, expecting it to be frozen also, but it happily pumped water from beneath the ice to begin melting the top of it and releasing the plants trapped underneath. That small gap between water and ice is like that space between sleeping and waking … where we are invisible, invincible and impervious to everything except this small place where dreams are woven and time is endless; seamless and all things are possible.
Copyright © protected image please do not reproduce without permission
Wish you all a very happy new week, dear friends! <3
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden. My words echo
Thus, in your mind.
THOMAS S. ELIOT, "Four quartets", 1942)
''Footfalls echo in the memory, down the passage we did not take, towards the door we never opened, into the rose garden.”
― T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets [Burnt Norton]
To view more images of Lower Slaughter, please click
"here" !
I would be most grateful if you would refrain from inserting images, and/or group invites; thank you!
Lower Slaughter is a village in the English county of Gloucestershire, located in the Cotswold district, 4 miles (6.4 km) south west of the town of Stow-on-the-Wold. The village is built on both banks of the River Eye, which also flows through Upper Slaughter. At the west end of the village there is a 19th-century water mill with an undershot waterwheel and a chimney for additional steam power. There is a ford where the river widens in the village and several small stone footbridges join the two sides of the community. While the mill is built of red brick most of the 16th and 17th century homes in the village use Cotswold sandstone and are adorned with mullioned windows and often with other embellishments such as projecting gables. Records exist showing that Lower Slaughter has been inhabited for over 1000 years. The Domesday Book entry has the village name as “Sclostre”. It further notes that in 1066 and 1086 that the manor was in the sheriff's hands. Lower Slaughter Manor, a Grade-II listed 17th-century house, was granted to Sir George Whitmore in 1611 and remained in his family until 1964. The 13th century Anglican parish church is dedicated to St. Mary the Virgin. Much of the current structure was built in 1866; however, the spire and peal of six bells was recently restored. In May 2013 it was reported in the national news that the Parish Council were fiercely opposed to the presence of an icebox tricycle selling ice creams for seven days a week, six months of the year, citing that the trading times were excessive, increased footfall would prevent the grass from growing and that children could climb on the trike and fall into the nearby river.
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
The Slaughters Country Inn is privately owned and offers a relaxed ambience, a style that is sympathetically balanced between the original features of a 17th Century building and contemporary design. The blend of old and new creates the perfect retreat in a beautiful country location
Young female Leopard (Panthera pardus) stalking the scrub forest. These cats have thick pads on their feet, which deaden the sound of their footfalls. Love her huge whiskers, which add to the sensory armory of this beautiful cat.
Footfalls echo softly on the hard sandstone trail on the way to Observation Point, Zion National Park.
One path closed and a new way begun for footfall with shoes and paws with claws and hoofs for deer and badger for humans and their dogs a way being marked in new outstretching arc. The tree in dying brings life to crumbling trunks and vanishing branches as the woodland extends and contracts breathing freely in the long sumptuous lichen that certificates the bark as reaching through fine fresh fecund air. One way is never just a different way to the same places as before, each way is a new line drawn and a fresh etched path that lasts and fails just as the fertile woodland creates as each sprouting and routing generates the ways we take and the ways we make.
The path seems less pursued now the tree fall has created an an obstacle. This woodland is in Rosslyn Glen below Roslin Village. A walk in nature and in beautifully untended once formal gardens near both Rosslyn Chapel and Castle.
© PHH Sykes 2024
phhsykes@gmail.com
The Lay of the Last Minstrel by Sir Walter Scott
Canto Sixth.
O'er Roslin all that dreary night
A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam;
'Twas broader than the watch-fire's light,
And redder than the bright moonbeam.
It glar'd on Roslin's castled rock,
It ruddied all the copse wood glen;
'Twas seen from Dryden's groves of oak
And seen from cavern'd Hawthorn-den.
Seem'd all on fire that chapel proud,
Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffin'd lie,
Each Baron, for a sable shroud,
Sheath'd in his iron panoply.
Seem'd all on fire within, around,
Deep sacristy and altar s pale;
Shone every plllar foliage bound,
And glimmer'd all the dead men's mail.
Blaz'd battlement and pinnet high,
Blaz'd every rose-carved buttress fair--
So still they blaze when fate is nigh
The lordly line of high St. Clair.
There are twenty of Roslin's barons bold
Lie buried within that proud chapelle;
Each one the holy vault doth hold--
But the sea holds lovely Rosabelle!
And each St. Clair was buried there,
With candle, with book, and with knell;
But the sea-caves rung, and the wild winds sung
The dirge of lovely Rosabelle.
Here are some shots that did not make it into the last chapter of Edrelle's tale, glimpses of a curious wanderer with painted wings watching the group pass, of the group sharing a few kind words near the imposing sihouette of Whiterun's keep, of a guard standing watch at an outpost among the swaying grass whistling a tune and of a less walked path among frosted pines under falling snow.
Kinematic ENB Extensive
I came across this pool of light in my local shopping centre a few weeks ago, trouble its a area with very little footfall so after a number of visits I nearly got the shot I was after.
The illusion of unspoken reflections passes under me. Do you listen to your footfalls when it is quiet, and you are alone?
Hiking in the narrow canyon on the trail to Observation Point, Zion National Park. The sound of footfalls and hiking poles could be faintly heard echoing through the narrower portions of the canyon.
This trail gains 2,177 feet in just 3 miles. The trail is excellent, with smooth surface and occasional stretches of gentle grade to give the knees and thighs a break. Though a bit difficult and strenuous the trail ends at one of the best viewpoints in Zion - Observation Point. Observation Point looks down upon Angels Landing, itself a magnificent hike.
To view more images of Lower Slaughter, please click
"here" !
I would be most grateful if you would refrain from inserting images, and/or group invites; thank you!
Lower Slaughter is a village in the English county of Gloucestershire, located in the Cotswold district, 4 miles (6.4 km) south west of the town of Stow-on-the-Wold. The village is built on both banks of the River Eye, which also flows through Upper Slaughter. At the west end of the village there is a 19th-century water mill with an undershot waterwheel and a chimney for additional steam power. There is a ford where the river widens in the village and several small stone footbridges join the two sides of the community. While the mill is built of red brick most of the 16th and 17th century homes in the village use Cotswold sandstone and are adorned with mullioned windows and often with other embellishments such as projecting gables. Records exist showing that Lower Slaughter has been inhabited for over 1000 years. The Domesday Book entry has the village name as “Sclostre”. It further notes that in 1066 and 1086 that the manor was in the sheriff's hands. Lower Slaughter Manor, a Grade-II listed 17th-century house, was granted to Sir George Whitmore in 1611 and remained in his family until 1964. The 13th century Anglican parish church is dedicated to St. Mary the Virgin. Much of the current structure was built in 1866; however, the spire and peal of six bells was recently restored. In May 2013 it was reported in the national news that the Parish Council were fiercely opposed to the presence of an icebox tricycle selling ice creams for seven days a week, six months of the year, citing that the trading times were excessive, increased footfall would prevent the grass from growing and that children could climb on the trike and fall into the nearby river.
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
The Slaughters Country Inn is privately owned and offers a relaxed ambience, a style that is sympathetically balanced between the original features of a 17th Century building and contemporary design. The blend of old and new creates the perfect retreat in a beautiful country location
Another one from my walk at McCoy a few weeks back. I like the composition and concept but trying to find the right post processing has been challenging. I think I gained some ground in my most recent version. CC certainly welcome here!