View allAll Photos Tagged Gentlest
“If possible, avoid being a bubble; for a bubble, even the gentlest touch is fatal.”
Quote ― Mehmet Murat ildan
Used one of my photo from the archives.
Happy Sliders Sunday ;-))
One of my favourite gulls and, after the Kittiwake, probably the one with the gentlest of expressions. Much commoner in Scotland than England we are lucky here as we get them throughout the year. Called the Mew Gull in North America which accurately depicts their call.
🎧 Hear what I feel ► to play 🎧
You are my strength, my rock, my confident, my love. You have the kindest heart, the gentlest soul I've ever met.
You are my everything! You are my all.
I belong to you.... ♥
Garfagnana offers a wide variety of landscapes, starting from an impervious and uncontaminated mountain belt, rocky in the Apuan Alps, grassy and with the gentlest slope in the Apennines, which at lower altitudes transforms into a hill full of meadows and cultivated fields of a particular scenic beauty. The course of the Serchio river with a large stony shore marks the center of the valley's slope everywhere.
[...] In Garfagnana folk tales about witches and witches males and two typical elves of the area are widespread, the linchetto and the buffardello. Scorers, traditional healers of Garfagnana, were widespread (at least until the 1980s).
An important popular tradition is the "natalecci of Gorfigliano": huge towers of juniper "woven" around a turkey oak tree or chestnut tree, which are set on fire on December 24th as a millennial tradition.
[Wikipedia]]
Searching through a drawer yesterday I found this lovely feather which belonged to our previous cockerel (imaginatively named Cocky!)
He was a much loved bantam who had a gentle way with the girls. Unlike our present incumbent who, athough handsome, is a bit of a tyrant...and truly cocky!
As much as creating atmospheres in Photography is essential for me, I also love anything that emits serenity, this is why I think Nature is so popular in this field. This is from the early evening back the River Havel alongside Grunewald, just outside Berlin. This time no Duck but a romantic yacht in the far distance, I could just imagine the sailor just lying down, looking up at the sky whilst the gentlest of breezes pushes you along whilst floating on the calmest of waters, when it comes to serenity, I don't think it gets much better than that!
I hope everyone is well, I just want to say how much in gratitude I am for all my followers, favers and commentators, all of you are highly appreciated and so as always, thank you! :)
O'er the bounding main. Well, it wasn't really bounding. But, I suppose, you'd still want to watch out for those rocks! This photo was taken from the clifftops near Porthcurno Beach in Cornwall, England. At the centre top of the cliffs in the image (hover over the picture for a note to appear) is Logan Rock which is an example of a 'rocking stone'. It weighs 90 tons but because it is finely balanced, one used to be able to set it rocking using only a single hand. Apparently, and for reasons that make a good read in Wikipedia, it isn't as easy to get moving these days. In 1759, William Mason wrote about Logan Rock in his epic poem 'Caractacus' :
Thither, youths,
Turn your astonish'd eyes; behold yon huge
And unhewn sphere of living adamant,
Which, poised by magic, rests its central weight
On yonder pointed rock: firm as it seems,
Such is the strange and virtuous property,
It moves obsequious to the gentlest touch
Of him whose breast is pure; but to a traitor,
Tho' ev'n a giant's prowess nerv’d his arm,
It stands as fixt as Snowdon.
And here I thought I was just taking a snapshot of a nice cliff...
“Poetry, she thought, wasn't written to be analyzed; it was meant to inspire without reason, to touch without understanding.”
― Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook
Soundtrack : www.youtube.com/watch?v=3XhDGkg8SpQ
BLOOD OF EDEN – PETER GABRIEL & SINEAD O'CONNOR
... And when you left the fields of yellow
faded in the winds of time
the golden ears of corn bowed down
finally beyond all reason or rhyme
But now my heart has risen up
the fields are red adorned with flowers
the bluest mountains reach towards the heavens
the promise of Spring is surely ours
I thought there would never be anyone else
to replace you in my field of dreams
but gentle words flow like a river
and settle within me or so it seems
I want to believe in the everafter
when our souls will meet again
but for now I must seek the quantum of solace
in the absence of the gentlest rain
The silent tears roll down the years
and bathe me in a rosy glow
the sunshine warms me; holds me closely
I feel immense that all I know
Is carefully parcelled; tied with ribbon
red velvet bow soft to the touch
a secret gift to be opened slowly
unwrapped; unveiled and loved so much
Inspiration is my succour
that piques my salient desires
I know that you will understand me
be happy someone tends these fires
the burning embers that you left me
now ashes crumble in the dirt
dust is dust that once was earthbound
in Heaven there is no more hurt
My heart sings out the freedom of nature
like a bird on the wing I soar so high
above the mountains through the clouds
swooping towards an open sky
I reach the stars just as the night falls
and cloaks the earth in silent reverie
sweet dreams my love; I know you're smiling
your generosity sets me free
Love is freedom to be ourselves
no matter what direction we take
the ones who love us are happy for us
and theirs is the love we do not forsake
Be still my beating heart; be silent
only when the end is nigh
for I am alive and my joie de vie
my joy of life cannot be denied ...
- AP - Copyright © remains with and is the intellectual property of the author
Copyright © protected image please do not reproduce without permission
Items in this scene:
DRD - Apocalyptic Hideout – Building
DRD - Apocalyptic Hideout – Watertank
DRD - Apocalyptic Hideout - Grass
DRD - PA - Sewer Shelter - Sewer
DRD - GG - Sidewalk Penthouse
DRD CS - The Joint Coffee Shop - Bike Rack
DRD - Building Remains - Dirt
DRD - Prison Yard - Bench One
DRD - Abandoned Truck - Shelter
DRD - Building Remnants – Destroyed
DRD - Trailer Park - Junk Pile
DRD - GG - Come As You Are Sign
DRD - The Cemetery - Ground Roots
DRD - San Mora - More Wall
:Fanatik Architecture: Urban Jungle Journey
:Fanatik Architecture: Urban Jungle Quiet
:Fanatik Architecture: Urban Jungle PinUp
:Fanatik Architecture: Urban Jungle War
:Fanatik Architecture: Urban Jungle Library
:Fanatik Architecture: Urban Jungle Fly
:Fanatik Architecture: Urban Jungle California
:Fanatik Architecture: Urban Jungle Grungy
:Fanatik Architecture: Debris Brick
:Fanatik Architecture: Urban Roads
HISA - Wall Foliage
In this part of Alentejo, autumn is like second spring.
Shot as seen, unedited apart from a bit of cropping.
Nikkor F=300mm 1:4 ED
Alentejo, Portugal
November 2022
16 years old and the most gentlest cat I've ever known. Despite the name, Pearl is a 'he' (long story).
Happy Easter Saturday 🐣🌼
Lauterbrunnen & Staubbach Fall at winter time. Canton of Bern , Switzerland.29.12.17, 13:39:23 . No, 3924.
I appreciate and honoured for your kind and inspiring comments. Together makes us stronger... I appreciate this opportunity to learn from each other...Thats the meaning of this collaboration and sharing . Take care ...keep on doing . )
Staubbach Fall
" The Staubbach Fall (German: Staubbachfall (sing.), lit.: dust creek fall) is a waterfall in Switzerland, located just west above Lauterbrunnen in the Bernese Highlands. The waterfall drops 297 metres (974 ft) from a hanging valley that ends in overhanging cliffs above the Weisse Lütschine.
The stream, on reaching the verge of the rocky walls of the valley, forms a cascade so high that it is almost lost in spray before it reaches the level of the valley. After rain, and early in the season when fed by the melting snows, the Staubbach Fall is a very striking object. The force of the stream above the fall at such times is sufficient to carry the water clear of the precipice, and the whole mass descends in a condition of liquid dust, between spray and cloud, that sways to-and-fro with the gentlest breeze. In a dry summer, when the supply of water is much reduced, the effect is comparatively insignificant.
The falls were featured on the Swiss 3-centime postage stamp of the 1930s.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe was inspired in 1779 on his second trip to Switzerland from Staubbachfall and wrote there his song of the spirits over the waters [2] :
Man's soul
Is like the water:
From heaven comes,
To heaven it rises,
And down again
To the earth it must,
Eternally changing.
Flows from the high,
steep rock face
The pure ray,
Then it dusts sweetly
In cloud waves
To the smooth rock,
And easily received, It
Walling veiling,
Leisrauschend down
to the depth.
If cliffs loom
The fall contrary,
it foams angrily
Gradually
the abyss.
In the shallow bed he
creeps down the valley of the meadow,
And in the smooth lake
her countenance graze
All the stars.
Wind is the wave
Lovely lover;
Wind mixes from the bottom
. Foaming waves.
Soul of man,
how are you like the water!
Fate of man,
how are you like the wind!
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe liess sich 1779 auf seiner zweiten Schweizreise vom Staubbachfall inspirieren und verfasste dort seinen Gesang der Geister über den Wassern
Des Menschen Seele
Gleicht dem Wasser:
Vom Himmel kommt es,
Zum Himmel steigt es,
Und wieder nieder
Zur Erde muß es,
Ewig wechselnd.
Strömt von der hohen,
Steilen Felswand
Der reine Strahl,
Dann stäubt er lieblich
In Wolkenwellen
Zum glatten Fels,
Und leicht empfangen,
Wallt er verschleiernd,
Leisrauschend
Zur Tiefe nieder.
Ragen Klippen
Dem Sturz entgegen,
Schäumt er unmutig
Stufenweise
Zum Abgrund.
Im flachen Bette
Schleicht er das Wiesental hin,
Und in dem glatten See
Weiden ihr Antlitz
Alle Gestirne.
Wind ist der Welle
Lieblicher Buhler;
Wind mischt vom Grund aus
Schäumende Wogen.
Seele des Menschen,
Wie gleichst du dem Wasser!
Schicksal des Menschen,
Wie gleichst du dem Wind! "
Wikipédia.
Ive just deciderd to put up this photograph again as its one of my most favourite ones and I love the place. Ive a lot of personal stuff to sort out at the moment so hopefully this will give me breathing space. Best wishes and thanks to all you great people out there!
P.
" I love the ground whereon she stands "
Here is "Celtic Woman`s" haunting version:
Do give it a listen/look;
SONG;
www.youtube.com/watch?v=eBIDgUQiu-8
"Black is the colour, of my true loves hair,
Her lips are soft like roses fair,
She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands,
I love the ground, whereon she stands"
" I love my love, and well she knows,
I love the ground, where on she goes.
I write her a letter, Just a few short lines,
And my heart it dies, a thousand times"
[ Unknown, traditional, Glasgow, Scotland, 18th century. ]
The evening light slowly fades out to the west
over Lugala and beyond and as far as the eye can see, in the Wicklow Mountains National Park, Ireland.
This lovely mountain is also called "Fancy Mountain".A pretty name for a pretty place.
Im going to ask my friend to write a slip jig on the fiddle for me and call it " The Fancies of Lugalaw " and then every time I go up here, not only will I have the view and the silence but Ill also have the music going around in my head as well. Now isnt that a proper kind of "madness"! Lol! P@t.
My pics are also available in slide form on Flickriver below, if you prefer;
flickriver.com/photos/137473925@N08/
A few people have said that they found the song very sad, particularly the extra verse I put in above.
We may be completely wrong as often in songs and poems of this period from Ireland and Scotland, the woman is actually ones homeland.Many womens names were used in the place of the country and the broken heart and unrequited love has to do with the country been in "strangers hands" and un free and would particularly apply to Scotland and Ireland.
It seems to be in vogue now to be patriotic and whereas a certain amount of it is to be admired, we must be careful, as too much of it has plunged the World into too many wars. We dont want a border here in this country. We had one for a hundred years and lots died because of it. Mostly innocent as always.I do think that they wont allow one and Im hopeful.
Ive just updated this photo as lots of people may not have seen it. I actually think its my best ever and please do listen to the song and watch the video as its amazing!!! P@t.
One of my favourite gulls and, after the Kittiwake, probably the one with the gentlest of expressions. Much commoner in Scotland than England we are lucky here as we get them throughout the year. Called the Mew Gull in North America which accurately depicts their call.
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Haraiki%20Bay/198/232/23
I saw it again this evening
Black sail in a pale yellow sky
And just as before in a moment
It was gone where the grey gulls fly.
If it happens again I shall worry
That only a strange ship could fly
And my sanity scans the horizon
In the light of the darkening sky.
That night as I walked in my slumber
I waded into the sea strand
And I swam with the moon and her lover
Until I lost sight of the land
I swam till the night became morning
Black sail in a reddening sky
Found myself on the deck of a rolling ship
So far where no grey gulls fly
All around me was silence
As if mocking my frail human hopes
And a question mark hung in the canvas
For the wind that had died in the ropes
I may have slept for an hour
I may have slept for a day
For I woke in a bed of white linen
And the sky was the colour of clay.
At first just a rustle of canvas
And the gentlest breath on my face
But a galloping line of white horses
Said that soon we were in for a race
The gentle sigh turned to a howling
And the grey sky she angered to black
And my anxious eyes searched the horizon
With the gathering sea at my back
Did I see the shade of a sailor
On the bridge through the wheelhouse pane
Held fast to the wheel of the rocking ship
As I squinted my eyes in the rain
For the ship had turned into the wind
Against the storm to brace
And underneath the sailor's hat
I saw my father's face
If a prayer today is spoken
Please offer it for me
When the bridge to heaven is broken
And you're lost on the wild wild sea
Lost on the wild wild sea...
-Sting.
Lauterbrunnen & Staubbach Fall at winter time. Canton of Bern , Switzerland.29.12.17, 13:38:51 . No, 3919.
I appreciate and honoured for your kind and inspiring comments. Together makes us stronger... I appreciate this opportunity to learn from each other...Thats the meaning of this collaboration and sharing . Take care ...keep on doing . )
Staubbach Fall
" The Staubbach Fall (German: Staubbachfall (sing.), lit.: dust creek fall) is a waterfall in Switzerland, located just west above Lauterbrunnen in the Bernese Highlands. The waterfall drops 297 metres (974 ft) from a hanging valley that ends in overhanging cliffs above the Weisse Lütschine.
The stream, on reaching the verge of the rocky walls of the valley, forms a cascade so high that it is almost lost in spray before it reaches the level of the valley. After rain, and early in the season when fed by the melting snows, the Staubbach Fall is a very striking object. The force of the stream above the fall at such times is sufficient to carry the water clear of the precipice, and the whole mass descends in a condition of liquid dust, between spray and cloud, that sways to-and-fro with the gentlest breeze. In a dry summer, when the supply of water is much reduced, the effect is comparatively insignificant.
The falls were featured on the Swiss 3-centime postage stamp of the 1930s.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe was inspired in 1779 on his second trip to Switzerland from Staubbachfall and wrote there his song of the spirits over the waters [2] :
Man's soul
Is like the water:
From heaven comes,
To heaven it rises,
And down again
To the earth it must,
Eternally changing.
Flows from the high,
steep rock face
The pure ray,
Then it dusts sweetly
In cloud waves
To the smooth rock,
And easily received, It
Walling veiling,
Leisrauschend down
to the depth.
If cliffs loom
The fall contrary,
it foams angrily
Gradually
the abyss.
In the shallow bed he
creeps down the valley of the meadow,
And in the smooth lake
her countenance graze
All the stars.
Wind is the wave
Lovely lover;
Wind mixes from the bottom
. Foaming waves.
Soul of man,
how are you like the water!
Fate of man,
how are you like the wind!
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe liess sich 1779 auf seiner zweiten Schweizreise vom Staubbachfall inspirieren und verfasste dort seinen Gesang der Geister über den Wassern
Des Menschen Seele
Gleicht dem Wasser:
Vom Himmel kommt es,
Zum Himmel steigt es,
Und wieder nieder
Zur Erde muß es,
Ewig wechselnd.
Strömt von der hohen,
Steilen Felswand
Der reine Strahl,
Dann stäubt er lieblich
In Wolkenwellen
Zum glatten Fels,
Und leicht empfangen,
Wallt er verschleiernd,
Leisrauschend
Zur Tiefe nieder.
Ragen Klippen
Dem Sturz entgegen,
Schäumt er unmutig
Stufenweise
Zum Abgrund.
Im flachen Bette
Schleicht er das Wiesental hin,
Und in dem glatten See
Weiden ihr Antlitz
Alle Gestirne.
Wind ist der Welle
Lieblicher Buhler;
Wind mischt vom Grund aus
Schäumende Wogen.
Seele des Menschen,
Wie gleichst du dem Wasser!
Schicksal des Menschen,
Wie gleichst du dem Wind! "
Wikipédia.
"This dragonfly came up to me. He was hovering right in front of my face, and I was really examining him, thinking, How does he see me? I became enlightened.”
- Ziggy Marley
Soundtrack : www.youtube.com/watch?v=V9VoLCO-d6U
THE CIRCLE GAME – JONI MITCHELL
The gentlest touch
is that by light
so soft; so peaceful
tranquil delight
transparency of wings resting
between each flight
Find a wooden peg; a perch to dry
what better way than on the line
no washing blowing in the wind today
so perfect; so exquisite; so sublime
an enchanting and charming way
to pass the time
Cocking her head she seems to speak to me
as her intricate lace-like wings unfold
I intepret her language; her ancient signs
and coloured bokeh with touches of gold
twinkles and sparkles as the lowering sun
glows down on her as her story is told
Basking in the late afternoon sun
we seem to have an affinity
her life has only just begun
but already she is more advanced than me
she imparts her wisdom so I can understand
she whispers, “Always look beyond what you can see.”
- AP - Copyright © remains with and is the intellectual property of the author
Copyright © protected image please do not reproduce without permission
Staubbach Fall and Lauterbrunnen . Izakigur No. 1254.
Staubbach Fall
" The Staubbach Fall (German: Staubbachfall (sing.), lit.: dust creek fall) is a waterfall in Switzerland, located just west above Lauterbrunnen in the Bernese Highlands. The waterfall drops 297 metres (974 ft) from a hanging valley that ends in overhanging cliffs above the Weisse Lütschine.
The stream, on reaching the verge of the rocky walls of the valley, forms a cascade so high that it is almost lost in spray before it reaches the level of the valley. After rain, and early in the season when fed by the melting snows, the Staubbach Fall is a very striking object. The force of the stream above the fall at such times is sufficient to carry the water clear of the precipice, and the whole mass descends in a condition of liquid dust, between spray and cloud, that sways to-and-fro with the gentlest breeze. In a dry summer, when the supply of water is much reduced, the effect is comparatively insignificant.
The falls were featured on the Swiss 3-centime postage stamp of the 1930s.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe was inspired in 1779 on his second trip to Switzerland from Staubbachfall and wrote there his song of the spirits over the waters [2] :
Man's soul
Is like the water:
From heaven comes,
To heaven it rises,
And down again
To the earth it must,
Eternally changing.
Flows from the high,
steep rock face
The pure ray,
Then it dusts sweetly
In cloud waves
To the smooth rock,
And easily received, It
Walling veiling,
Leisrauschend down
to the depth.
If cliffs loom
The fall contrary,
it foams angrily
Gradually
the abyss.
In the shallow bed he
creeps down the valley of the meadow,
And in the smooth lake
her countenance graze
All the stars.
Wind is the wave
Lovely lover;
Wind mixes from the bottom
. Foaming waves.
Soul of man,
how are you like the water!
Fate of man,
how are you like the wind!
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe liess sich 1779 auf seiner zweiten Schweizreise vom Staubbachfall inspirieren und verfasste dort seinen Gesang der Geister über den Wassern
Des Menschen Seele
Gleicht dem Wasser:
Vom Himmel kommt es,
Zum Himmel steigt es,
Und wieder nieder
Zur Erde muß es,
Ewig wechselnd.
Strömt von der hohen,
Steilen Felswand
Der reine Strahl,
Dann stäubt er lieblich
In Wolkenwellen
Zum glatten Fels,
Und leicht empfangen,
Wallt er verschleiernd,
Leisrauschend
Zur Tiefe nieder.
Ragen Klippen
Dem Sturz entgegen,
Schäumt er unmutig
Stufenweise
Zum Abgrund.
Im flachen Bette
Schleicht er das Wiesental hin,
Und in dem glatten See
Weiden ihr Antlitz
Alle Gestirne.
Wind ist der Welle
Lieblicher Buhler;
Wind mischt vom Grund aus
Schäumende Wogen.
Seele des Menschen,
Wie gleichst du dem Wasser!
Schicksal des Menschen,
Wie gleichst du dem Wind! "
Wikipédia.
In your creation
Is it true?
That perfection exists
And is it possible
That we could ever resist
But I have found
That the most pleasing beauty
Is often in the simplest things
In colour and shape
With love in the gentlest line
Forming your design
When I cannot decide
What to do
When I am overwhelmed
With anything new
I look at what you can do
And I realise that
My heart has always belonged to you
Because you are perfect
You are you
I have always loved the Wood Anemone, and I now grow them in my garden, after many years of trying to get them established. For me, they are the epitome of purity and represent a delicate spirituality. This image has been waiting in my archive for a while, for when it could truly show its beauty. That time is today.
For more of my images and poetry have a look at my website:
Little Glen Lake, taken from the top of Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore, with circular polarizing filter.
Over one million people visit the dunes each year, leaving behind their footprints in the sand, footprints that are obliterated by the gentlest of breezes.
“Cows are amongst the gentlest of breathing creatures; none show more passionate tenderness to their young when deprived of them; and, in short, I am not ashamed to profess a deep love for these quiet creatures.”
- Thomas De Quincey -
"Peace may sound simple - one beautiful word - but it requires everything we have, every quality, every strength, every dream, every high ideal."
- Yehudi Menuhin -
The crickets felt it was their duty to warn everybody that summertime cannot last for ever. Even on the most beautiful days in the whole year – the days when summer is changing into autumn – the crickets spread the rumor of sadness and change.
-- E.B. White
We know that in September, we will wander through the warm winds of summer's wreckage. We will welcome summer's ghost.
-- Henry Rollins
Departing summer hath assumed
An aspect tenderly illumed,
The gentlest look of spring;
That calls from yonder leafy shade
Unfaded, yet prepared to fade...
-- William Wordsworth
“A cat has absolute emotional honesty : human beings, for one reason or another, may hide their feelings, but a cat does not.”
- Ernest Hemingway
Soundtrack : www.youtube.com/watch?v=dNacOVmerhU
THESE TIME WE'RE LIVING IN – KATE WOLF & NINA GERBER
“We've only got these times we're living in …
… and they do not come again“ - Kate Wolf
Chloé and the dust bunnies
gathering in her silken locks
all you need to make a home
is a cushion and a Fairtrade box
enjoy the unseasonal English sun
warmer through the glass
frosted sprinkles on the outside
sparkling diamonds on the grass
Chloé is little Harry's sister
they are seldom seen apart
they still curl up like little kittens
cherished in each other's heart
Every day they make me smile
with their pure and innocent nature's
their birth defects no longer visible
they grew into these perfect creatures
I wonder if they ever knew
how cruel a fate the vet foresaw
I shelter them with love and kindness
from a world that abandoned them; I love them more
than words can every say and so
I show them in so many ways
and in return they give to me
unconditional love for all my days
No matter what the day will bring
to spin me on the roundabout
Chloé, her brother and all my cats
will turn my world the right side out
How can I ever wish for more
I am so content with all they give
the gentlest most loving and adorable ones
they are the reason I want to live
The world is big and often scary
and sometimes I run and hide away
but I never cease to love and care
for these little ones come what may
So all I can say now is always be thankful
for the angels who enter into your life
because they are the guardians who keep you safe
who free you from the toil and strife
that so often brings us down
but we can rise above it
I hope everyone has an angel by their side
I have eight; I'm blessed; I love it! <3
- AP - Copyright © remains with and is the intellectual property of the author
Copyright © protected image please do not reproduce without permission
Thanks for visiting. I am very grateful for the very kind comments and faves.
Enjoy a very happy weekend, dear friends <3
I'd been watching the tide heights for a few days and hoping for the sky to be overcast. The tide had been higher for the two days before but I was in the Peak District for one of them and the sky was all wrong for the other.
After it taking over an hour to get through Heswall due to an untimely bus break down I arrived five minutes before the actual high tide.
You have a lot more time albeit only about 30 minutes as the tide comes in before you have to retreat to the car park and I was cursing that broken down bus.
Conditions were as perfect as you could hope for. Absolutely no wind giving only the gentlest of waves overflowing into the marine lake and an overcast sky.
At 9.3m, ( I take the height from Hilbre Island. It takes another 15 minutes or so before the high tide hits West Kirby, ) the path around the lake is about 0.4m under water and even in these really calm conditions you can feel the ebb and flow pulling at your ankles. It's slightly unnerving to see the jettys disappear under water and it looks for all the world like you are stood in the middle of the estuary with no escape.
As the tide turned I waded out along with another tog I'd met at Meols a few evenings before. We only had about 10 minutes before the intrepid dog walkers returned and it had started to rain. Fortunately I remembered to bring a plastic A4 sheet to cover the lens and filters and had everything dialed in correctly. Managed to get 6 long exposures before holding the sheet over her lens so she could get her shot too. The conditions soon passed but we both got the shots we came for.
A hectic 15 minutes but pleasing nonetheless.
The gentlest kind of autumn days, wrapped in fog, silence and an otherworldly peace, where everything is inviting you to go inwards, to be with and feel your joys, longings, fears, truths.
How funny that it's often a surprise, what we discover in there almost covered in cobwebs.
May we all find all the autumn days we need to lead us back to our heart, the stranger.
She slipped a ragged woollen jumper onto her sweaty body as she left the bedroom for the now chilly Tuscany night. We went down the stairs and into our courtyard, walked by the well, glancing at the last flowers by the wall, before reaching the bathroom in the old stable. We embraced under the steamy flow and I clumsily spluttered a few simple words that meant the world to me. She giggled and scolded me for being so inarticulate. She stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around her breasts, paused a few seconds, then turned around with her gentlest smile, and whispered...."yes I do".
This is us.
Qui parle de bonheur a souvent les yeux tristes
N'est-ce pas un sanglot de la déconvenue
Une corde brisée aux doigts du guitariste
Et pourtant je vous dis que le bonheur existe
Ailleurs que dans le rêve ailleurs que dans les nues
(Aragon)
A Studios Claris production. Check album here: flic.kr/s/aHsmVxZ9mw
{ EXPLORE }
There's a scent like no other
As the petals unfold
Slowly opening to reveal
The inner sanctum
Where a bud lays weeping
Waiting to be kissed...
To feel the warmth
The gentlest of breath
Enticing growth
Tender and swollen
Encased within moistened walls
Waiting...
Simply waiting for relief.
~ Irina Whitford ~
Enjoy the last few days of Summer while looking forward to the Colors of Fall !
Departing summer hath assumed
An aspect tenderly illumed,
The gentlest look of spring;
That calls from yonder leafy shade
Unfaded, yet prepared to fade,
A timely carolling.
- William Wordsworth, September
The gentlest of sunsets on a wonderful night when I was just enjoying myself, playing with long exposures! Sail away ladies by the Felice Brothers , just caught my eye when looking through my playlist titles, as it was that sort of night, with the sun slowly sailing away!
There's no cloud in the South Wales sky this morning and there's only the gentlest of breeze too. It's going to be a warm one methinks!
Moć tišine jedne Crnjike
U krupnom planu — Damašćanska crnjika (Nigella damascena), skromni vrtni biser iz porodice žabnjaka. Laticama poput čipke otvara prostor za spirale svjetlosti i tihu čaroliju bokeha.
Narodna medicina ju cijeni stoljećima – kažu da liječi sve, osim smrti.
A nama? Nama daje ljepotu u najtišem trenutku.
The Silent Power of Nigella
Close up of Nigella damascena, known as Love-in-a-mist — a delicate flower from the Ranunculaceae family. Its lace-like petals open the stage for spirals of light and quiet bokeh magic.
Traditional medicine reveres it — said to heal everything but death.
For us, it offers beauty in the gentlest of moments.
Cat lovers often are the kindest and gentlest people. I met this older couple in Brooklyn and this is their cat, Star. There was an older woman who lives with Star who told me she was very concerned because Star is quite old and she had her father and her father was showing the same kinds of behaviors before he passed away.
There's a really strong connection between pet lovers when we talk about loss of a pet. It really is something that almost surpasses what humans are capable of enduring...the suffering we feel when a pet we love and cherishes dies. I could feel the woman I spoke to preparing for this mentally but also having that internal conflict of wanting to enjoy the time she had left without the depression already setting in.
I talked to this human for quite a bit and was told about how Star's father cat was so smart that he used the toilet instead of the litter box and how Star has to have special food and treats. We cat lovers pick up on little nuances particular to each personality and we treasure them as if they are individual gifts (because they are!)
Anyway, I couldn't tell if the man in the photo was the woman's son or partner. I had the impression when I was speaking to her below where the man and Star were standing in this shot that she was the kind of human that appreciated a conversation more than a photograph and it was just nice to have that moment. Sometimes, you have to remind yourself that there are other ways of collecting memories and sometimes words (too many words in this case as I'm rambling) can serve a purpose. I've made a note to revisit the image of her in my mind mentally but, within that image, is not merely a woman but a woman who loves cats and all those felines she's adored who've adored her back.
Have a nice Caturday.
This photo is for Jamie, a friend to all cats in the world. His photostream is here:
www.flickr.com/photos/jamiemck/
**All photos are copyrighted***
“Black is modest and arrogant at the same time. Black is lazy and easy — but mysterious. But above all black says this: I don’t bother you — don’t bother me.” — Yohji Yamamoto
♫ Celtic Woman - Black is the Colour ♫
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Black Is The Colour
💋Drumknott
Black is the colour of my true love's hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon she stands
I love my love and well she knows
I love the ground whereon she goes
I wish the day, soon would come
When she and I could be one
I go the Clyde, I mourn and weep
For satisfied, I never can be
And then I write her a letter, just a few short lines
And I suffer death a thousand times
Black is the colour of my true love's hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
I love the ground whereon she stands
I love these dainty little grasses with their slender stems and interesting form.
The aptly named Quiver grass, shakes in even the gentlest of breezes, making it a challenge to get super sharp images. This one will have to do for now!
Common name: Quake grass; Quaking grass; Shaking grass.
Botanical name: Briza maxima.
Family: Poaceae.
Taken in the Mountainside neighbourhood of Gordon's Bay, Western Cape, South Africa.
Cows are among the gentlest of breathing creatures; none show more passionate tenderness to their young when deprived of them; and, in short, I am not ashamed to profess a deep love for these quiet creatures.
- Thomas de Quincey -
Pictures taken at Wind River
Tizzy was the sweetest gentlest cat. I adopted him when he was already old - his owner had died & Tizzy was terrified in the cattery. He was a wonderful pet. The photo shows him enjoying the sunshine through a window. Sadly he was only with me for just over a year, but I’ve always been glad he was mine for a while.
Happy Caturday.
#FlickrFriday
#Dance
Spring has arrived and Australian tussock grasses (Poa sp.) are displaying their tall, erect seed heads. They sway in the gentlest of breezes and it's not hard to think of them dancing.
Uncropped image taken with a Helios 44 58mm f2 (ГЕЛИОС-44) 13 blade silver M39 lens.
An early morning shot taken at Draycott Sleights on the Mendips in Somerset.
The biggest problem with trying to photograph small insects on the end of grass stems is they are waving around in even the gentlest breeze, I regularly use clamps to minimise this but even so, it took quite a few shots before I got one that was sharp enough, fortunately at this time of the morning the beetles are not very active.
Best viewed very large.
Visit Heath McDonald Wildlife Photography
You can see more of my images on my other flickr account Heath's moth page
The snows returned over the weekend. Not the blizzard most had predicted, but exactly the opposite...perhaps the gentlest, lightest fall I can recall, beginning Saturday night and continuing even now. Tho hardly noticeable in the air, the result is an accumulation of about 5-6 inches blanketing every limb as it always seems to do here in the northwoods. I have come to believe there is a difference between city snow and country snow...the country variety much more pleasing in every way. Though, admittedly, the difference in my circumstances may also have something to do with my interpretation.
One of the things I've come to look for is the occasional break in the uniform grey of the snow sky as the sun attempts to make itself known. Generally there is forewarning to these events as the overall brightness of the surroundings changes noticeably. Such was the case late yesterday afternoon when this scene pleasantly, albeit briefly, presented itself in the western sky.
My heart is broken. Miles, my dog and best friend, has crossed the rainbow bridge. He was 13 years old—not bad for a 90 pound chocolate Lab. He was a little goofy, not too smart, and he was the kindest, gentlest dog I’ve ever known. We put his sister down last year, and now with Miles passing, it sadly marks the end of an era. We had a lot of fun—we had a good time.
The hardest part of having a dog is letting it go. As I release Miles into the sunset, I hope he quickly reunites with his sister Tessa. I’m sure there are still a lot of good times in store for the both of them on the other side of that rainbow bridge. I smile at this thought—even though in my life, a light has gone out--make that two of them.
RIP my friend. Your huge life presence will be missed.
San Gregorio CA
This is Miss Blondie Smith #6 who is the gentlest and kindest cat in this home. But a funny capture of her mid-meow makes her look ... well ...
You know my group is open to everyone ... just read the instructions. No one has ever supported me, but that's okay. If you have a special shot, artistic edit, something other than a snapshot ... I'd love it if you would share!
Happy ScATsURDAY! to you Peeps! I b lovin' u ...
Wolfie stole my mitten out of my pocket and ran away. He did leave it though and didn't chew it. His dad says he will steal anything, but when being given a treat? He is the gentlest dogs I have ever encountered. This was before the theft in Lincoln Park Dog Park, Grand Forks, ND
Excerpt from tourismtofino.com/things-to-do/activities-adventures/beac...:
MacKenzie Beach
Sheltered from most wind by large tidal rocks, this beach is known for its calm waters with only the gentlest of waves. It’s a popular destination for families with small children, especially at its south end. There’s also an entrance ramp, facilitating beach access for everyone.
Paid parking can be accessed by turning from the Pacific Rim Highway onto Hellesen Road.
Things to do on MacKenzie Beach:
Do some stand-up paddle boarding! Rent your gear or take a lesson.
Get a skimboard and ride away.
Play some beach games or build a sandcastle.
Walk to the southern end of the beach (to the left when facing the ocean), where you’ll find a rocky intertidal zone to discover.
Smile on Saturday" and "painted/painting eggs"
I gilded the red-painted eggs with gold leaves. I really struggled because the leaves are so thin that they almost have no weight, the slightest movement of air moved them, and at the gentlest touch they split and stuck to each other. I coated the egg with egg white and then placed the gold leaf over the egg. When I finished the gilding, I coated everything again with egg white, which fixed the gilding so that not everyone who takes the gilded egg would get golden fingers like mine now. In essence, it is done similarly to decoupage, only that it is much easier to work with napkins (no matter how thin they are), but the effort is worth it because in the end the eggs looked beautiful.
This was a test, and for Easter I will make more of them and definitely take pictures.
HSoS!
Happy Easter!
the gentlest of breezes span this tiny petal into a frenzy and mesmerised me till It dawned to capture it with flash, here.
that lost a part of its magic motion, but then I I couldn't stop using flash.
( Sounds so much like chasing your best golf shot — for me thirty years ago )
at Philip and Debs' whist dog-n-cat-sitting.