View allAll Photos Tagged Footfall
The Courtyard Development is based on an old Lane/alleyway running between the High Street and Church Street in Bawtry, South of Doncaster. Several years ago the whole of it was redeveloped and modernised with new premises and businesses. It is basically the new pasted on top of the old!
The businesses there do not do too well as many visitors to the small town appear unaware of its existence and it is a route that leads from a busy street to a very quiet residential side road. If it led from shops to shops, I feel it would be much busy and have greater footfall. The empty shop premises and only two pedestrians are a sign of how empty it gets.
If a foot falls in the forest and no one else is around, does it make a sound ... Yes, a very, very soothing sound.
Ok, so maybe not "Paradise", that's a different national park, but I am always fascinated to some degree about the interaction between human and natural infrastructure in such places. I am never really sure whether to think of such mixes as beachheads, toeholds, necessary incursions, unnecessary incursions, something to be thankful for, or something to be regretful of. It is always a weird mix. Without the roads and parking, there is a good chance I myself would never be able to see such views, nor would so many others. Then again the access granted to such places increases their popularity which just places more and more strain on them. Then again, without that protection and limits on access there is a good chance they would have been fully commercially developed for their perceived tourism value and it would look much worse than it does. The way that we humans treat (and consume) the natural world around us is a complicated mix. Being able to visit, and be exposed to, such beautiful vistas no doubt engenders a greater appreciation for the value of preserving such places. Then again each visiting person is an opportunity for pollution, littering, going off trail and damaging the landscape footfall by footfall. We can simultaneously learn to care about these places and not really care about them. Be in awe of them but also slowly erode them.
These thoughts, and this image, are neither in support of nor condemnation of how we visit and interact with these places. For my thoughts on the matter are far larger and more complicated than I have the time or inclination to type out here. But that is why I am sometimes drawn to making images such as this, it is an effort at some degree of self-awareness regarding what my presence here means, as well as that of all my fellow visitors. There is no easy answer but sometimes the best thing you can do is to just think on these things.
Horseman SW612
Kodak Ektar 100
I caught the young man asleep on the streets of Bath one sunny spring afternoon during the lunch time footfall of hungry people rushing past him.
You can view full screen by pressing 'L' and thank you for your support and comments of my photography!
Would you like a print of my work or would you like to use one of my images - why not contact me@: Www | Facebook | twitter | 500px | g+ | instagram | email
Hasselblad 500C/M + C80 T* w/filter + 400TX
© All rights reserved 2015. Please do not use my images without my explicit permission.
The yearly display of bluebells at St Pauls church, Holme Eden, Cumbria
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 bluebell. This is a more vigorous plant and could out-compete the native UK flower
Almost half the world's bluebells are found in the UK, they’re actually relatively rare in the rest of the world
Bluebell colonies take a long time to establish, around 5 to 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.
#bluebell #bluebells #cumbria
“What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
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 (The Four Quartets)
a prologue to my new series, 'Time present & time past'
Model: Isaac Bekker
Make up: Christin Reuss-Purcell
Photographer Assistant: Lathrop Walker
© Leanne Boulton, All Rights Reserved
Posed street portrait taken for my 100 Strangers project in Glasgow, Scotland.
This picture is #58 in my 100 strangers project. Find out more about the project and see pictures taken by other photographers at the 100 Strangers Flickr Group page
I spotted Desiree walking down a busy Saturday high street in the city, she stood out from the crowd of dour-looking shoppers. I asked Desiree if she would like a portrait and we moved aside from the crowd to the edge of this alleyway, out from under the footfall of shoppers.
Desiree, who comes from Estonia, was in Glasgow for the X-Factor auditions which had just taken place earlier in the city. Needless to say that I wished her every success with the audition and perhaps we will get to see her on television in the near future.
Captured using natural light, although I wish that I could have included some sort of catch-light in her eyes, and initial processing was done in Lightroom. I asked Desiree to pose a shot with the Xrite ColorChecker Passport so that the colour could be calibrated correctly. After a base edit I exported the shot to Photoshop for a light pass with Frequency Separation editing and then edited a layer to reduce the shadows under her eyes caused by the lack of light. Using both techniques just enough for effect but to retain a perfectly natural look.
I bumped into Desiree the following day and hope that she enjoyed her day of sightseeing in the city too. I thanked her for her time posing for a few portraits and have sent the shots to her.
Enjoy!
Here are some shots that did not make it into the last chapter of Edrelle's tale, glimpses of the tall pines wrapped in a cloak of mist their hue of the deepest green, of the group of friends sharing a few words among the sounds of the waking forest the worries of the night before swept away with the breeze and of a wanderer with bright wings as if made of intricately embroidered silk fluttering near the shore of the lake where Edrelle and Dimitri went for a swim.
Kinematic ENB Extensive
We left the hotel on Sunday morning after a filling breakfast and enjoyed a quiet walk in Wembley Park, taking in the sights. The London Designer Outlet was just to the left of here, with Wembley Stadium on the right and at the end of this view was the Wembley Arena, where we saw Sigrid, so you can see we didn't have far to walk!
The Boulevard is home to aspirational retail brands, offices and London’s first outlet centre – The London Designer Outlet. Boasting over 7 million visitors a year, an 800 capacity car park, a train station and hotels just a stone’s throw away, footfall is a guarantee here for a brand activation pop up.
Bordesley station is probably at its most bleak as a class 25 banks a tank train up the Camp Hill line whilst a passenger waits for a train into Birmingham City centre.
Today the station is closed most of the time with just one train a week to ensure it remains open. In the footfall season the station does spring into life as it is the nearest station to St Andrews, Birmingham City F.C's Stadium of despair.
Money has been spent and the platform has been re-surfaced and new lighting installed.
It will be interesting to see what the future holds as a chord is proposed to connect the Camp Hill line to the line into Birmingham, this should coincide with the re-opening of new stations at Hazelwell, Kings Heath and Moseley.
Peter Shoesmith 21/05/1976.
Copyright Geoff Dowling & John Whitehouse: All rights reserved
A Class 323 pairing, with No. 323222 leading 323207, departs from University station on 11th January 2022 while forming service 2U18 1002 Redditch - Four Oaks. The station, one of the busiest in the region, is currently being upgraded with new, and substantial facilities to cope with increased footfall of passengers to the Birmingham University campus and the nearby Queen Elizabeth Medical Centre. Copyright Photograph John Whitehouse - all rights reserved
Ive not shot the classic Bamford Edge for a fair few years now, so to get back into the swing of heather season I decided why not.
I was looking along the edge and all of the heather has now gone sadly due to footfall.
I had a look back though some images from 2013 and the heather lining the edge was in abundance. Sad really but reality and I cant knock people for enjoying the countryside.
I headed slightly further down of the edge to this large crop of heather and waited. Sadly the clouds disappeared and I was left with a cloudless sunset.
It still a nice view and composition.
-----------------------------------------------
Please pop by my website at www.jamespictures.co.uk
------------------------------------------------
All images are Copyright © James Pictures. For full details please see www.jamespictures.co.uk/copyright
Spring has arrived at Walkden Gardens, Sale. Currently closed to the public due to ground conditions caused by the heavier than usual footfall during lockdown, I felt privileged to be allowed access with the Chair of the Friends Group to get some photos for their February diary.
Jewel Changi Airport (also known as Jewel) is a nature-themed entertainment and retail complex surrounded by and linked to one of the passenger terminals of Changi Airport in Singapore. Its centrepiece is the world's tallest indoor waterfall, the Rain Vortex, which is surrounded by a terraced forest setting.
Jewel includes gardens, attractions, a hotel, about 300 retail and dining outlets, as well as early baggage check-in aviation facilities. It covers a total gross floor area of 135,700 m2 (1,461,000 sq ft), spanning 10 storeys—five above-ground and five basement levels.[6] Its attractions include the Forest Valley, an indoor garden spanning five storeys, and the Canopy Park at the topmost level, featuring gardens and leisure facilities.
Jewel receives about 300,000 visitors per day. In October 2019, six months after its soft opening, it had welcomed 50 million visitors, exceeding its initial target for the whole year. In 2024, it achieved a record footfall of more than 80 million, the highest since its opening.
The complex and airport are located in Changi, at the eastern end of Singapore, approximately 20 km (12 mi) northeast from Singapore's Downtown Core.
Source: Wikipedia
The bustling 'Sanderson Arcade' in the Northumberland market town of Morpeth, opened by Joanna Lumley OBE in 2009.
It's a really pleasant retail area that includes a number of well-known high street names, independents and an M&S.
I didn't spot any empty units on my visit, indeed the town as a whole appears to be doing well with a really good amount of footfall. I am sure that all the car parks offering free 3-hour disc parking helps (it's certainly one of the reasons I like to visit).
Spiral staircase shot straight on, taken during a recent trip to France. How this place has so little footfall I shall never know.
'Think of what happens to our closets when we use the broad criteria: "Is there a chance that I will wear this someday in the future?' The closet becomes cluttered with clothes we rarely wear. If we ask, 'Do I absolutely love this?', then we will be able to eliminate the clutter and have space for something better."
We can do the same with pretty much every part of our lives.
-----
ISO100, 27mm, ƒ10, 0.4sec
Just playing around with the high tides of late. As the waves began to spill over, It struck me how much footfall the old pier has known...so many ghosts, so much life...so much history
ƒ/10.0
18.0 mm
3
200
©Jane Brown2016 All Rights Reserved. This image is not available for use on websites, blogs or other media without explicit written permission
we are back from Gloucester. Both Peter and I very tired. Will start catch up now . . .
There were lots of turtles in the ponds at Bauer Park, but most slipped back into the water as soon as they sensed my footfalls. This one did not want to give up its sunning spot.
They now marched on again in silence, and passed like shadows and faint
lights: for Elves (even more than hobbits) could walk when they wished
without sound or footfall. Pippin soon began to feel sleepy, and staggered
once or twice; but each time a tall Elf at his side put out his arm and
saved him from a fall. Sam walked along at Frodo's side, as if in a dream,
with an expression on his face half of fear and half of astonished joy.
The woods on either side became denser; the trees were now younger and
thicker; and as the lane went lower, running down into a fold of the hills,
there were many deep brakes of hazel on the rising slopes at either hand. At
last the Elves turned aside from the path. A green ride lay almost unseen
through the thickets on the right; and this they followed as it wound away
back up the wooded slopes on to the top of a shoulder of the hills that
stood out into the lower land of the river -valley.
-JRR Tolkien
In the early 1990s, landscaper Horace Burgess bought some wooded land on the outskirts of Crossville, Tennessee. One of the bigger trees, next to a dirt road, caught his eye. He decided to build the world's largest tree house in its branches.
But Horace had a job and a family. After spending a couple of years on the project, he ran out of lumber and enthusiasm.
"Then I turned my life over to God," Horace recalled. "And the spirit of God said, 'If you build Me a tree house, I'll never let you run out of material.'"
God doesn't make housing offers every day. Horace got himself ordained as a minister and went back to work. God showed Horace what the tree house would look like ("It was like a vision") but didn't tell Horace how big it would be. "If He had," Horace said, "I would've tried to talk Him out of it."
Eleven years of labor later, Horace had what he'd originally wanted: the largest tree house in the world. It spreads across not one, but seven big trees that grow through its floors and out of its windows. It soars 100 feet into the sky. Built without blueprints, its dimensions are a mystery even to Horace, who guesses that it covers around 10,000 square feet.
Even before he was finished, people began showing up to climb it. They were trespassing then, and they're trespassing now, but Horace has never had the heart to turn them away. Thousands of uninvited people have visited the tree house over the years, with God as their only lifeguard; Horace is rarely around (he still works full-time as a landscaper).
Stairs wind up and down, leading to dozens of now-empty rooms. There's a chapel with a basketball hoop (Horace encourages physical fitness) and a belfry only accessible by an outdoor ladder. Horace showed us secret passages that hadn't yet been discovered (and destroyed) and the tower view of his flower garden, which he's trimmed into a Christian cross, an American flag, and a big name: "Jesus." "When you see Jesus in the garden," said Horace with a smile, "the preacher don't have to preach."
Unfortunately, the treehouse has been closed by the Tennessee Fire Marshall, who says that it's a tourist attraction and therefore must conform to state building codes. Horace says that it's a treehouse, and there are no codes for a treehouse. And it's proven to be well-built despite the footfalls of thousands of visitors over 20 years. For now, however, the gate to its driveway is locked.
We visited this back in 2011 and have not been back since it was closed...I hope that one day, this can be reopened as it is just amazing!!
Exerts above taken from a story at RoadsideAmerica.com at the following address:
www.roadsideamerica.com/story/13769
Three bracketed photos were taken with a handheld Nikon D7200 and combined with Photomatix Pro to create this HDR image. Additional adjustments were made in Photoshop CS6.
"For I know the plans I have for you", declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." ~Jeremiah 29:11
We spent the pre-dawn this Utah morning wandering along the edge of the always compelling and ever-crumbling cliffs known as the Skyline Rim or Moonscape Overlook, so known because the blue-gray badlands flooding the valley several hundred feet below appear as one imagines the moon's surface itself might look to a fortunate astronaut from such a vantage point. The lunar illusion was broken that morning, however, by a pleasing array of thin streaks of clouds, but those same clouds gave us hope that we'd see a colorful sunrise from our eastward-facing clifftop perches. And, in fact, it was a nice sunrise over the moonscape, enough so that I didn't even think to look around much for several minutes until the sound of footfalls crunching in the gravel behind me caused me to glance back over my shoulder toward Caineville Mesa and Factory Butte prominently visible a few wide miles across the desert plateau to our west.
What I saw at that glance was, as you see, quite an attractive happenstance of alpenglow, distant haze, and a crown of cloud wisps, all brightened in ephemeral shades of pink. And there too was the moon itself, nearly set. I whirled around and jammed on the long lens, stopping down as I often do to extend the exposure some, and opened the shutter. I got this shot and two similar others in about a minute's time before the color faded, and I'm glad I did.
Thanks for viewing.
We've all done it; the accidental foot photo. Well this one was deliberate.
We're Here and truly terrible.
Hand-held & filter-free & manually focused.
It's been a good few years since I was last enjoying this view in the Gloucestershire village of Lower Slaughter (my camera back then had film in it!).
Just back from a week in the Cotswolds and glad to report, I found this picturesque village, captured on the the final days of spring, looking exactly as I remember it.
If I was to nominate a location that captures the essence of a quintessential English village, from the ones I have visited, Lower Slaughter would be up there with the best.
This timeless location lies just a few mile south west of Stow-on-the-Wold, just off the Fosse Way Roman road.
The crystal clear River Eye flows through the centre of the village, adding even further to its charm.
The majority of the buildings in this view date from the 16th and 17th centuries, built using Cotswold limestones.
Although there is are a couple of hotels, there are no shops. Indeed, a few years back, the Parish Council decided to oppose someone wanting to sell ice creams from an icebox tricycle during the warmer months, six months of the year. Among the arguments against such a proposal were that the increased footfall would prevent the grass from growing and children could climb on the trike and fall into the nearby river.
As for the slightly macabre-sounding name of the village, it is thought to originate from the Old English term 'slough' meaning 'wet land'.
Thankfully, when I visited on the first official day of summer, it wasn't 'bin day' and so not a single wheelie bin to be seen!
In the latter days of August, upon the remote island of Hinnøya, nestled within the Lofoten archipelago, I found myself drawn to the wild embrace of nature as summer began its gentle retreat. The air, once warm and languid, now carried the crisp breath of the north, a herald of the approaching autumn that sought to cool the Arctic surface, which had been uncharacteristically warmed by July’s fervent sun. After a week of persistent rain, the heavens promised a reprieve—a dry, sunny day that stirred my spirit to venture forth.
Yet, as I commenced my ascent, heavy clouds still cloaked the sky, a reminder of nature’s capriciousness. I traversed the damp, mossy terrain, a verdant carpet strewn with the bounty of the earth—blueberries and lingonberries, ripe and inviting. Each berry I plucked and savored slowed my pace, yet it also eased my passage over the uneven, boggy ground, where boulders lay like ancient sentinels. The beginning of my hike was a communion with the land, the air still and the rain but a whisper in the background.
As I journeyed, I encountered a beautiful waterfall cascading into a small lake, its surface a mirror reflecting the world above. The shores, adorned with delicate cottongrass, beckoned me to pause and collect water, a simple act that connected me to the very essence of this wild place. The water, clear and cool, invigorated my spirit as I turned toward the steep slope that awaited my ascent.
With each step upward, the cold wind began to assert its presence, and the distant rumble of thunder echoed through the valleys. The rain had ceased, yet the air was thick with anticipation. I donned a warm jacket, a humble shield against the chill, and pressed on, navigating the steep, wet incline cloaked in a vivid but treacherous layer of moss. Each footfall was a dance between pleasure and peril, as the slippery surface threatened to betray my ascent. A light mist began to envelop the landscape, softening the edges of the world around me.
Almost reaching the summit, the terrain transformed into steep cliffs that demanded my full attention and effort. Climbing them took time, each movement a testament to my resolve and determination. Upon reaching the top, I was met with a solid wall of fog, a thick shroud that obscured the view and enveloped me in its cool embrace. Seeking refuge from the wind, I nestled behind a large rock, surrendering to the moment and allowing fatigue to claim me. I lay there, cradled by the earth, lulled into a gentle slumber by the distant rumble of thunder, a reminder of nature’s omnipresence.
Hours passed, and I awoke to a blinding ray of sunlight piercing through the fog, illuminating my surroundings with a brilliance that took my breath away. The clouds still lingered, but small gaps revealed the sun’s rays, casting ethereal beams that danced through the mist. Light and shadow wove a dramatic tapestry across the landscape, as if the heavens themselves were painting a masterpiece. The mountains, with their countless folds extending to the horizon, shimmered in the silver light, while the lakes and fjords below mirrored the spectacle above.
In that moment, I was struck by the profound beauty of the scene before me—an epic tableau worthy of the grandest frescoes in a cathedral. The lake below reflected every shade, a canvas of nature’s artistry. With reverence, I retrieved my camera, eager to capture the fleeting magic of this moment, to immortalize the interplay of light and shadow that spoke to the very soul of existence.
As I stood there on the rocky peak, the wind howled around me, a fierce yet invigorating force that spoke of the mountain's untamed spirit. The ground beneath my feet was a rugged tapestry of stone, worn smooth by the passage of time and the elements. I felt a profound connection to this wild place, a reminder that even amidst the starkness of the summit and the unpredictability of nature, there lies an inherent beauty waiting to be discovered. Here, at this lofty vantage point, I found not only the majesty of the landscape but also a deeper understanding of my place within it—a humble observer in the grand symphony of life, where each moment is a brushstroke on the canvas of existence, and every breath is a testament to the wonder that surrounds us. The mountains, with their jagged silhouettes against the sky, stood as silent witnesses to my journey, urging me to embrace the wildness of the world and the serenity that can be found in its heights.
Find out more beautiful landscapes of untouched wilderness in my photos, stories and films on the website www.coronaviking.com
If there's one thing I've become aware of during the lockdown has been the increased footfall across the countryside. You can tell by the sheer amount of litter discarded. The Smiths clearly set out for their newly found constitutional armed with their bottles of coke, crisps and snickers. None of the wrappings return home with them. The good thing is that this lot will be going back to their sofa's very soon.
22/31 October Photo A Day - I have been taking shots each day but behind with processing and commenting (looking forward to a few days off...) so will start to catch up this evening. No idea what I have on the camera in terms of quality, seem to have loads of images open on Lightroom and photoshop as life is too busy! But this one sort of worked - the old yellow line perspective again and back to the market for the weekend fruit and veg!
In the latest version of Photoshop CC (2021), Adobe have introduces a "Replacement Sky" facility, which I have used to correct the burnt out sky, in the original version this image.
A tutorial may be found "here"
To view more images of Lower Slaughter, please click "here" !
From the Achieves, re-processed, using Photoshop CC 2021.
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
To view more images of Lower Slaughter, please click "here" !
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
In a subsequent week of clag and rain, I was met on my first day with ideal conditions for this stunning part of Wales. Apart from the cronk of the raven wheeling above, the whole area was quiet and free of footfall.
My attempt at Painting, with Photoshop!
Your turn to have a go; if you have Photoshop CS3, or later! "Just Click here"
To view more images of Lower Slaughter, please click "here" !
Please, no group invites; thank you!
In the early 16th century a chantry of St. Mary, whose date of foundation is unknown, provided in theory for an additional priest, though the stipend was evidently not sufficient to keep the priest in the parish. In 1933 the £150 realized by the sale of the schoolroom was invested in trust for ecclesiastical purposes. The Church of ST. MARY, a building of stone with a Cotswold stone roof, comprising chancel, nave, north aisle, organ chamber, and vestry, and a western tower with spire, was almost completely rebuilt in 1867 by the lord of the manor, Charles Shapland Whitmore, in the Early English and Decorated styles. It contains, however, an early 13th-century arcade of four bays and a piscina of the same period. The arches of the arcade are of two chamfered orders supported on plain round columns with octagonal scalloped cushion capitals; the easternmost bay may be a 19th-century copy. The piscina has a semi-octagonal projecting basin, scalloped inside. The arcade suggests that the rebuilding was roughly to the plan of the earlier church, and c. 1700 the church had a north aisle and a western tower with a saddleback roof. By 1851 there was a gallery. The church contains monuments, from the late 17th century, to members of the Whitmore family buried in the north aisle. Of the six bells, one is thought to be by Robert Hendley of Gloucester , two are by Edward Neale of Burford, 1683, and three were made in 1866. The plate includes a chalice and paten cover of 1576. Baptisms, marriages, and burials at Lower Slaughter were entered in the registers of Bourton-on-the-Water until 1813.
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
ANZAC REMEMBRANCE
Time present and time past
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.
T.S. Eliot.
The Millennium Bridge over the Thames in London, taken from inside Tate Modern.
The Millennium Bridge springs from a creative collaboration between architecture, art and engineering. Developed with sculptor Anthony Caro and engineers Arup, the commission resulted from an international competition. London's only pedestrian bridge and the first new crossing on this part of the Thames in more than a century, it links the City and St Paul's Cathedral to the north with the Globe Theatre and Tate Modern on Bankside. A key element in London's pedestrian infrastructure, it has created new routes into Southwark and encouraged new life on the embankment alongside St Paul's.
Structurally, the bridge pushes the boundaries of technology. Spanning 320 metres, it is a very shallow suspension bridge. Two Y-shaped armatures support eight cables that run along the sides of the 4-metre-wide deck, while steel transverse arms clamp on to the cables at 8-metre intervals to support the deck itself. This groundbreaking structure means that the cables never rise more than 2.3 metres above the deck, allowing those crossing the bridge to enjoy uninterrupted panoramic views and preserving sight lines from the surrounding buildings. As a result, the bridge has a uniquely thin profile, forming a slender arc across the water. A slender ribbon of steel by day, it is illuminated to form a glowing blade of light at night.
The bridge opened in June 2000 and an astonishing 100,000 people crossed it during the first weekend. However, under this heavy traffic the bridge exhibited greater than expected lateral movement, and as a result it was temporarily closed. Extensive research revealed that this movement was caused by synchronised pedestrian footfall − a phenomenon of which little was previously known in the engineering world. The solution was to fit dampers discreetly beneath the deck to mitigate movement. This proved highly successful and the research undertaken by the engineers has resulted in changes to the codes for bridge building worldwide.
Their footfalls are quiet, undetectable. The muted jungle noise melts out their shuffling along the front porch. The comms headset in the pointman’s helmet chatters away, the voice ordering different units around the house. The living room and kitchen have already been cleared; the ambassador must be in the master bedroom. His children and wife will be killed, and he will be transported to a detention centre in Eastern Eurasia where he will live out the rest of his short, meaningless life.
After the Oceanic withdrawal from the offensive front in the DRC, the UFA’s attacks were severely weakened. The main Eurasian offensive was launched with a rapid push into Angola and Botswana. Fighting in the rural regions was brutal, with massive armour battles in Angola continuing deep into late 2036. A massive offensive was launched to seize Gaborone, the capital of Botswana. Initial strikes by Eurasia consisted of kidnapping and torturing high raking officials, including an ambassador between the UFA collation and the NATO alliance, a resident of the hills around Gaborone. A bloody battle was about to ensue in Gaborone and these raids were just the start.