View allAll Photos Tagged Grasping
In the quiet of the night, where shadows mourn
And hollow winds caress the weeping trees,
I linger in the echoes of a love forlorn,
A captive to the pain that never leaves.
You were the phantom touch upon my soul,
A fleeting breath of life that swiftly fades.
Yet in your absence, I am less than whole,
A specter lost in time’s relentless shades.
My heart, a sepulcher of dreams denied,
Entombs the whispered hope that once was bright.
Now, only darkness in these veins resides,
A bleeding wound that festers in the night.
Your name, a curse upon my withered lips,
An echo in the chasm of despair.
I drown in shadows of your fingertips,
Grasping at the emptiness you left there.
Oh, cruel love, that wounds with silent grace,
You carved your name into my bleeding heart.
Yet all I have is this forsaken place,
Where love and loss are never far apart.
-----------------------Death in Love ---------------------
In the shadows where the living dare not tread,
I dwell in endless night, a specter’s grace.
The world beneath my touch turns cold and dead,
Yet in my hollow heart, there is a place
For one who never saw my veiled face.
He, a demon bathed in fleeting light,
Unaware of the gaze that followed near,
Unknowing that I longed to end his night
And claim him for my own, to hold him dear.
But love is foreign to a soul austere.
I wander through the world with scythe in hand,
A harbinger of fate, of final breath.
Yet, what is Death but love misunderstood,
A longing for the end to be our thread?
I’d reap the very stars to see him spread
His mortal arms and whisper my true name.
But he, enraptured by the day’s bright flame,
Would never see the beauty of my dark domain.
Oh, how I envy life, that fragile grace,
The warmth of skin, the beating of the heart.
For just one touch, I’d halt the earth’s embrace,
To stop all time and tear the world apart,
If only for a moment in his arms to start
A dance of shadows in the dying light,
Where he and I could merge as day with night,
Two souls entwined before the endless flight.
But love is not for me, nor fleeting bliss.
I am the end of all that lives and breathes.
Yet in my endless duty, I dismiss
The aching void that my cold heart beneath.
I reap, I take, but never do I keep.
For what is Death but love’s eternal sleep?
And so, I watch him from the dusk’s soft veil,
A silent guardian of his demonic trail.
I long to whisper, yet my words would pale
Against the beauty of his fleeting strife.
For in his mortal pain, I find my knife,
A blade that cuts me deeper than the grave.
Yet still, I yearn, his dark and silent slave,
To feel his love, the one thing I can’t save.
So I shall wait, eternal, ever near,
A shadow in the corner of his eye.
And when his time has come, I’ll draw him near,
With tender hands, beneath the starless sky.
For only then, in Death, will he be mine,
A love that blooms beyond the reach of time.
The red panda is a specialised bamboo feeder and has strong, curved and sharp semi-retractile claws standing inward for grasping narrow tree branches, leaves and fruit. Like the giant panda it has a false thumb which is an extension of the wrist bone. When descending a tree, head first, the red panda rotates its ankle to control its descent and is one of the few climbing species to do so. The red panda is territorial and lives on its own except during the breeding season, they only make a few sounds like twittering, tweeting and whistling, and they like sleeping and resting on tree branches or in tree hollows during the early hours of the day and they increase their activity during late afternoon and early evening. They eat mostly bamboo, but they may also eat small mammals, birds, eggs, flowers and berries. The red panda can reproduce when they are about 28 months old, and a few days before they give birth she will start gathering items to make a nest with and has and she will have between one to four cubs. After the birth she will clean the cubs and by doing this she is then able to easily recognise each cub by its own smell. Photograph taken at Selwo Zoo, Estepona, Spain.
- explored #1 - thank you!!
I'm finding a lot of folks my age are feeling the same way I do right now. We grew up being told to just go get a degree. Stop at nothing to get one. Go into debt and pay whatever for the education, because with a degree you can pay it off in no time. It's worth it. It doesn't matter what your degree is in, you just need one. And it will bring you success in the real world.
But this isn't the case anymore, is it? Now the market wants a Master's with 10 years of experience. And it's shrinking to the point that it can make such demands because goodness knows there are thousands of us grasping for that one opening.
I'm not mad nor do I blame society/parents for engraining such teachings in us. A degree was truth for so long and with the exception of a few conspiracy theorists, no one saw this recession coming. We were prepared for one type of world, only to get out in it and learn the hardest lesson of all – things change.
So, let's be done with bitter. Let's be done being victims. Let's be done with “life's not fair.”
Instead, let's be smarter. Let's define the next greatness. Let's rise above and create a better society.
I'm accepting that horizons have changed. It's a brave new world baby. Here's to jumping in with both feet.
Futter fassen nach Senkrechtstart vom Gras
Grasping forage after vertical take-off from the grass floor
With their vertical pupils and opposable thumbs, Phyllomedusa are easily some of the most distinguishable of all tree frogs. However, it is their peculiar form of locomotion that is perhaps their most striking feature: when seen walking slowly down a branch with their bodies raised, they appear decidedly ‘un-froglike’. Studies into their anatomy reveal that they possess a specialized musculature that not only allows them to move their limbs independently (as opposed to the simultaneous bilateral hopping motions of most other frogs), but also gives them a ‘precision grip’ which enables steady movement over thin branches. This grasping ability is rare among animals and is shared predominantly with higher primates, hence leading to one of their common names: ‘Monkey Frogs’. Coca, Ecuador.
Bonne journée chers Amis !
Have a nice day my Friends
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Merci à tous pour vos gentils commentaires.
J'ai eu 2 séances d'ergothérapie cette semaine pour tenter de pouvoir plier mes doigts, elle fait un drainage lymphatique sur la main pour commencer, puis j'ai des exercices à faire comme prendre un par un des petits carrés éponge et les garder dans la main, saisir des objets ave une grosse pincette, malaxer de la pâte à modeler, tout cela est très douloureux pour mes doigts enflés et la main remplie de liquide. Après 9 séances, j'espère obtenir un bon résultat et récupérer l'usage de mes doigts.
--
Thank you all for your nice comments.
I had 2 sessions occupational therapy this week to try to bend my fingers, she makes a lymphatic drainage on hand to start, then I have to do exercises like taking a small square sponge and keep in hand, grasping objects ave a big tweezers, knead the modeling clay this is very painful for my swollen fingers and filled with liquid hand. After 9 sessions, I hope for a good result and recover the use of my fingers.
SEMICOLLARED HAWK Accipiter collaris. A Very Rare adult Semicollared Hawk is holding its left foot up as though grasping something as it perches on a slender branch in the Tandayapa Valley of northwestern Ecuador at 8:56 AM on the sunlit morning of October 31, 2015.
We watched this Semicollared Hawk for about 10 minutes as it searched for prey.
(The Flickr Map caption incompetently misidentifies the site of this photograph.)
The very rare Semicollared Hawk is a member of the Family Accipitridae and has been found in the mountains of southwestern Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador and Perú.
Un adulto de Gavilán Semicollarejo Accipiter collaris con el pie izquierdo levantado en el Valle de Tandayapa en el noroeste de Ecuador a las 8 y 56 de la mañana el 31 de octubre de 2015.
No Flash - I never use flash.
For OPTIMAL DETAILED VIEWING of this Semicollared Hawk, VIEW AT THE GIGANTIC SIZE (2140 x 1100) using the direct Flickr link: www.flickr.com/photos/neotropical_birds_mayan_ruins/23685...
"Courtship" behaviour in the globular springtail Sminthurides aquaticus. These by our Staffordshire garden pond. Note angled nature of antennae in male (the individual being lifted-up). This enables the antennae to be intertwined.
Both individuals ~0.5mm. Taken at about 7x magnification and then heavily cropped.
Holocaust Memorial Berlin, everytime I'm passing by, I will end up taking a picture of it, this time I decided to put it in use...
A glaucous-winged gull (Larus glaucescens) grasping a clam in its mouth on the pebble beach at the Esquimalt Lagoon. Colwood, Vancouver Island, BC.
North American River Otter
The playful North American River Otter is well adapted for semi-aquatic living. The mammals have thick, protective fur to help them keep warm while swimming in cold waters. They have short legs, webbed feet for faster swimming, and a long, narrow body and flattened head for streamlined movement in the water. A long, strong tail helps propels the Otter through the water. They can stay underwater for as many as eight minutes. North American River Otters have long whiskers, which they use to detect prey in dark or cloudy water, and clawed feet for grasping onto slippery prey. They are very flexible and can make sharp, sudden turns that help them catch fish. Their fur is dark brown over much of the body, and lighter brown on the belly and face. On land a River Otter can run at speeds of up to 15 miles an hour—they can slide even faster. Their playful snow and mud sliding, tail chasing, water play, and snow burrowing activities also serve other purposes—they help strengthen social bonds and let young Otters practice hunting techniques.
A River Otter can grow three to four feet long including its tail and weigh between 11 and 30 pounds. Males are generally larger than females. The tail makes up about a third of their total length.
For more info: www.nwf.org/Educational-Resources/Wildlife-Guide/Mammals/...
Wonderful color for Winter, the berries of this Firethorn! I wouldn't recommend eating them... They taste of nothing; perhaps a very light peach pit taste. They're poisonous, though, to many animals. But they're very pretty and bring some light into our dullness. The Hedera makes for a nice edging.
One of the precious things about our shared hobby - be us professional or amateurs - is the ability to capture treasured moments for all time. This is one such moment. The tiny hand of my grandaughter grasping the finger of my father. She is one of 5 of his great grandchildren who all will, one day, know how lucky they were to have known and been hugged by their great grandparents.
Phew, made it in one piece!
Not a great image with no real focal point but that drop in front of me is steeper than it looks, with boot-deep leaves and hidden branches.
I made it to the top of this ridge by slithering up, (camera as always strapped to my right hand; I couldn't use a heavy Pentax without it) and pulling myself up using my pretty useless left hand, very gingerly by grasping light-starved holly branches and greasy broken branches like those on the left. There was a moment that seemed to last several seconds where I teetered on the brink of going over backwards (I could see the Gods tossing coins as to the outcome) but I think I saved the day by throwing my camera hand forwards, the weight and movement pulling me back.
I keep finding myself in situations that I should have more sense about. My dad was the same as he got older, forever having daft adventures better suited to younger people. If you avoid mirrors you're forever 28. Until you're not.
web.mac.com/tinygdynamite/Site_2/Welcome.html
It happened that a Dog had got a piece of meat and was carrying it home in his mouth to eat it in peace. Now on his way home he had to cross a plank lying across a running brook. As he crossed, he looked down and saw his own shadow reflected in the water beneath. Thinking it was another dog with another piece of meat, he made up his mind to have that also. So he made a snap at the shadow in the water, but as he opened his mouth the piece of meat fell out, dropped into the water and was never seen more.
Beware lest you lose the substance by grasping at the shadow
like a dream
a whisper
words floating
on the edge of nothing
fingers reaching out
grasping
eyes closed
let go
i will
i do
The plume midges are a family of mosquitoes that are common in our world. They feed on nectar and have larvae that grow up in water. The antennae of the larvae have grasping arms like those of the praying mantis. They are predatory weapons with which they grab their prey. They feed on small insects such as mosquito larvae and crustaceans. The antennae crush the prey and bring it to the mouth of the larva.
My wife and I were fortunate to visit Madagascar in 2019 to see and photograph some amazing creatures. Although Lemurs were high on our list of fascinating critters, coming across spectacular reptiles like this one were certainly enough to let us know we weren't in Kansas anymore. When I was a kid, I was always fascinated by lizards and snakes...and this experience certainly didn't disappoint.
=>Please click on the photo to see it at maximum size<=
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The Malagasy giant chameleon or Oustalet's chameleon (Furcifer oustaleti) is a large species of chameleon which is native to entire Madagascar, but also has been introduced near Nairobi in Kenya (though its current status there is unclear) and in Miami-Dade County in the United States. It occurs in a wide range of habitats, even among degraded vegetation within villages, but is relatively rare in the interior of primary forest.
The colouring of F. oustaleti is quite variable. Males are usually largely grey or brownish, sometimes with reddish-orange feet or underparts. Females are more variable and often more colourful than males, with base colour or markings in red, yellow and green being possible, and the eyelids can sometimes be blue.
Diet
The diet of F. oustaleti includes invertebrates such as large insects as well as some vertebrates such as small birds and reptiles. This is also one of several chameleon species that are known to consume fruit. F. oustaleti is known to regularly consume the fruit of Grangeria porosa, Chassalia princei, and Malleastrum gracile, and will do so even during the wet season, suggesting that fruit is not consumed just to obtain water. Typically, prey is acquired with a long, muscular tongue, while fruit is seized directly with the jaws, but occasional exceptions to this rule have been recorded. In one unusual case however, this species was recorded grasping fruit bearing twigs with the zygodactyl feet and bringing them closer for consumption. Amongst reptiles, this level of food manipulation with the forelimbs is otherwise only documented in some species of monitor lizards and Chamaeleo namaquensis. The latter is also known to feed on plants.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malagasy_giant_chameleon
4F3A3783-ds
From the archives...I don't recall how old my son (grasping my finger) was when I shot this.
Canon AE1, 50mm lens, I forget the film but I'm sure that I developed it in D76.
Originally posted to Blogspot 18 Feb 2010.
Not able to charge my phone, which is also my camera. Ergo, will be posting from the archives until I can get things squared away. Thank you for your patience!
Amsterdam - Binnengasthuisstraat.
Drie bomen, zes lenzen.
“The lens trees” by Thomas Puckey, 1989. 3 bronze sculptural trees integrated in the dynamics of The Binnengasthuisterrein, once a hospital, now housing the faculty of humanities of the University of Amsterdam. No better area for selfreflection and the perfect location for these trees with bare branches grasping conversed magnifying glasses, which refer to the Camera Obscura and the art of painting by Johannes Vermeer.
The female damselfly is laying her eggs. Mating season for the Damselflies in our pond has begun. Just last week the nymphs emerged from the pond water to shed their skin and become colorless damselflies. As the young damselfly matures it will gain a beautiful color. The adult damselfly only lives one to three months; its main job is to find a mate and continue the life cycle.
See the photo below of the damselflies mating. It starts with the male damselfly grasping the female with his abdominal claspers. The same species of damselfly with fit like a lock and key.
Copulation can take from several minutes to several hours depending on the species. The male damselfly stays in tandem with the female while she lays her eggs. I watched as the red damselfly gently carried his bride to an inviting lily-pad.
This dedicated female damselfly, pictured above, was moving her abdomen every which way to try and find the water.
If the female damselfly could not find water to lay her eggs she would straighten her abdomen as if to signal lift off to her partner. The male Damselfly would gently lift her to another location.
Female damselflies normally use a bladelike ovipositor to place eggs inside plant tissue. From previous years I have seen the larva of the damselflies underneath the lily pads. When you turn the lily pad over you will see lines and markings with the damselfly eggs.
After about three weeks the young damselfly nymphs emerge and live underwater, insatiably feeding on small aquatic animals like tadpoles, mosquito larvae and just about anything it can get a hold of.
The damselfly and dragonfly nymphs are completely predatory, and not vegetarians at all.
As the female damselfly lays her eggs she is also supplying a healthy meal for our fish. We have three large goldfish, some say Koi, that will feast on the nymphs all year. During this mating season I do not have to add any fish food to the pond.
Many successive molts take place over a period of eleven months before the final nymphal stage is reached. The mature dragonfly nymph crawls out of the water onto a rock or plant stem during the night or early morning hours.
The nymphal skin splits dorsally and the winged damselfly adult pulls itself out to become fully expanded. It will take several days before it reaches top flight capacity.
Damselflies have been used as indicator species for assessing habitat and water quality in a variety of wetlands, natural water in forests, and lakeshore habitats around the world. Studies indicate they are one of our most beneficial insects.
Cucurbitaceae
Luffa aegyptica
"Loofah", "Si-Gua-Luo"
Annual
Tropical Old World
handheld, available light
To be sculpted as a scribe was a great honor, which ws first claimed only by 4th. Dynasty royal princes, then was adopted later by many high officials.
The scribe was usually represented squatting cross-legged on a low base, holding an open papyrus roll and grasping a pen.
Granite
Old Kingdom
Saqqara
South Coast, New South Wales.
A second east-coast low pressure system for this Autumn coincided perfectly with a trip out to eastern Victoria and south-eastern NSW recently. Around 150mm of rain fell over 24 hours in the south-east, prompting many interesting frog species (including the elusive Giant Burrowing Frogs) to come out their early winter slumber to hunt and soak up the moisture before the cold really sets in.
Note the giant nuptial spine on the males thumb, used for grasping females during the breeding season.
The black rhino lives in Africa, primarily in grasslands, savannahs and tropical bush lands.
There are three black rhino sub-species.
Black rhinos are browsers. Their prehensile upper lip is adapted for grasping and holding leaves and branches of shrubs and trees.
Black rhinos can live to be 35 – 40 years in the wild.
Gestation lasts approximately 15 – 16 months, and mothers give birth to one calf every 2.5 – 3 years.
Females and sub-adults generally are social, but bulls are typically solitary.
Adult female black rhinos have overlapping ranges and are not really as solitary as often portrayed. Males are generally solitary and may be territorial.
Larry Talbot, guest writer on this flickr site, has given me permission to use some of the images I've taken of him.
Here he is, kicking back in his palatial open air living room. He has a mansion now, tucked away in a sheltered spot somewhere on cliffs overlooking the Black Sea. I have never asked him where he made his fortune, although I have heard rumors it involved Crazy Glue, chickens and vast quantities of mattress ticking. (Frankly, I'm not sure I want to know any of the details.) Anyway, Larry tells me that in this image the breezes were blowing and the guitars were rocking as he listened through his prized Bose earphones.
"My manservant, Olaf took it," Larry told me. "I was listening to ZZ Top's Tush."
Then he told me "This is EXACTLY what my face looks like."
I told him "Well...yeah, Larry. it's a PHOTOGRAPH of your face."
He just shook his head like he'd known all along I would never, indeed could never, understand. "No...no...no...Mr. Dorky Von Dweebermeister. This is a depiction of what good music feels like as it washes over the male spirit. The processing: the selective blur, the blend of drawing and photograph...the intensity on the face! It's all part and parcel of the same FEELING."
Larry illustrated his words by waving quivering fingers in a dramatic fashion a few inches away from his body, like there was a life sized vertical harp there. Since he was wearing a voluminous crimson robe at the time, it looked a little silly to me. Larry paused to take a sip of a deep red liquid from an exquisitely crafted goblet before settling back into his chair with a satisfied sigh.
I was still smarting over that 'Mr. Dorky Von Dweebermeister' shot, so I fixed him with my very blankest stare. (Larry hates the whole passive aggressive trip...which is why I do it. Grant me the small pleasures, will you?)
But Larry just rolled his eyes and passed me a disc with this mini-essay on it. He told me he wrote this opus some years ago, as you can tell by the historical reference to Dancing With The Stars.
Today's stupid Helium topic is...
WHY MEN SECRETLY LOVE TO DANCE
by L. Talbot
Nothing stirs a male soul (okay...THIS male soul) like a great guitar riff or a smoking drum solo. As long it's just you and me here and you PROMISE not to tell anyone...let me tell you a secret. Men LOVE to dance...as long as we're alone and better than 50% convinced there are no security cameras watching and/or recording us.
But when we're in public it's a different proposition altogether.
Yikes!
In public people can SEE us.
While on the inside we may feel like John O'Hurley on Dancing With The Stars we’re convinced we look more like Jerry Lewis. We are watching our dance partner carefully in case she is either embarrassed or trying to contain gales of laughter.
Every guy remembers being twelve…
(This is where I need you, dear reader, to envision pages of a calendar spinning and ripping off in a "time tunnel" wind while violins play an ethereal tune to show that we are going back...back in time.) Are you with me?
Okay.
I am standing beside all the other 12 year old guys, dutifully supporting my portion of the gym wall, looking at the girls on the other side of the gym who are doing much the same thing.
A few of the popular kids are dancing along with a handful of brave souls who just don't care what anyone thinks. I am standing there beside Brad Dennison and Dean Thorpe (who my friends and I call Dean "Throw-Up" cause some gags just never get old). My eyes are fixed on Jennifer Patterson.
There's an angelic light shining on her from above. It highlights her golden hair, her soft blue eyes and those two coma shaped dimples that appear only when she smiles.
Jennifer Patterson sits two seats in front of me in Mrs. Hall's third period math class and well - Jennifer Patterson just smells SO good.
"Go on," Brad dares me. "Ask her."
I have confided the secret ache in my heart to both Brad and Dean Throw-Up against my better judgment.
"Yeah," urges Dean. "She's just, like, standing there."
My heart starts to pound and my vision blurs. My cheeks are burning and I begin desperately hoping they can't see it.
Brad gives me a little push and what amounts to an encouraging nod.
I step backward, grasping desperately for my safe patch of wall, which Dean Throw-Up moves quickly to occupy.
I shoot him a venomous look. What are they doing to me?
Brad shoves me again and hisses "GO!"
My feet are carrying me across the gym and I can feel hundreds of eyes burning into my back as the guys note one of their own breaking away from the herd. I can only see the girls on the other side of the gym looking at me with the beginnings of smiles forming in their eyes.
I am considering planes crashing into the ground trailing black smoke. I am thinking about car crashes complete and public humiliation. The end of my life. I can hear the blood pounding in my ears and my knees are a little weaker than I'd like.
I briefly consider walking right by Jennifer and continuing on to the bathroom, where I will very likely throw up.
But a madness seizes me.
Suddenly I am standing in front of Jennifer with a bowling ball in my throat.
The DJ starts to play "Albert Flasher" by the Guess Who.
My lips move wordlessly.
Jennifer Patterson cocks an eyebrow.
All of her friends are looking at me. I can feel my friends looking at me.
I croak...something.
I put out my hand and Jennifer takes it and we go out to the dance floor together. (God bless Jennifer.)
Every man's life has a Jennifer Patterson in it somewhere.
We dance secretly because we suspect that if we did it in public we'd be accused of having standing seizures. We are 79.44567% certain that there are hundreds of critical eyes fixed on us. We fear looking stupid in front of the women and dread giving ridicule ammo to our fellow men.
Does that mean that we won't do the happy Snoopy dance when Golden Earring's Radar Love comes on and we're CERTAIN we are alone? Of course not. We will. It’s just like that ‘tree falling in the forest when there’s no one there to see it.’ You’ll never know for sure because you'll never be there when it happens. Not ever.
We're also likely to throw in a little air guitar and even a few air drums to demonstrate to our own souls that we do indeed, have the music in us, and no – we’re not as old as that little snot bag packer at the grocery store seems to think we are.
So yeah. We dance. Sometimes we do it in the shower…sometimes we do in in the office…sometimes we do it in our minds.
Now you know.
Just don’t tell anyone. Or I WILL find you.
Ha.
Ha.
Ha.
Shruti - she would prefer to listen and think
in different directions rather than in oppositions,
to meet the full circle of her portrait.
she would not be imposed upon
but chivy her way out of one who chivies her.
her good vibes weave her porous boundaries
textured between her inside and out
to find beautiful ways for us.
as the willy whale dives and disappears
before the final sunset, the sun down several times
horizon shaped, waves movement in foreground;
a constant oscillation between
the grasping of meaning and its loss,
nothing is lost; everything belongs.
the sun sets and the music just expands...
each sun-set matures - impressions of the moment
be that as it may be a temporal horizon
the estimated temporal horizon of its effect
was not meant to be limited to that moment.
wavy unruly curls; not fickle minded she is.
between the waves of our mind, we meet her
to find an unexpected conjuration.
therein lies hidden promise in her portrait
layered in a particular relation
between space and time
and suddenly the light enough the sight
life through the eyes of a beautiful dream
certain ghost suddenly being out of that time
hovering in these spaces infinite,
we end up going in circles of 8-fold skies.
in the final frontier, after scaling all the heights
won one but none in a galaxy of stories.
then, we cannot hide our gravity of mistakes.
how come you can't fly anymore?
where you gonna hide this time
we are all passengers on the same ship.
hesitant, we all returned to our bubbles
broom broom, abrasive forces back in the game.
tangles a series of beseeching questions;
struck on the breastbone? the bare soul.
opposite waves shaping presence-absence
contrary dimensions of lived experience.
portrait takes shape in the constant abrasion
of the relationships of our estimated horizons
respectful approach to an ocean of materials
some thoughts, just a bud. others in full bloom.
'here', upon this bank and shoal of time.
she retains an unfinished magic
that retains pure possibility of beauty
and ocean-full promise to be unfolded in time.
spaciousness offered to inner experience
harmonizing energy flows unhindered.
the smoke knows if there is wind
flashes of emotional vulnerability in honesty
she shines and vibrates with authenticity;
buffered. each breath, fiercely, gracefully...
back to the epigraph of her Nazakat
to photograph her best is to see the familiar
breeze through the liminal moments
and respirate the immortal fragrance
♫ Enya - May it be ( lyrics ) ♫
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_8u4VLk0iTI
I never meant to hurt you
I tried
But at the risk of not honouring myself
I stayed longer than I should
This has only hurt you more
All because I did not want to hurt you
I hoped for better times
And wanted to believe we could work this through
I do not want to change you
We are who we are
It was clear to me
I was not the one for you
I tried to tell you over and over
But you wouldn’t let me go
It’s not that I did not care
I stayed too long because I cared
But in the end it only proved
It did you more harm than good
How can I be true to you
If I cannot stay true to myself
I had to stay true to me
Only then could I be truly true to you
Truth can be painful
And it tears me apart that I have hurt you
It was so clear to me
It is not meant to be
Grasping holding onto something
So tightly for fear of losing it
Only ends up pushing it further from your grasp
Suffocating the very thing you love most
There comes a time when the differences between us
Seem impossible to heal
When joy is sucked from our being
It is then that we have to face the reality
We are not meant to be
This is not about blame
This is not about who is right or who is wrong
This is about letting go and honouring yourself
Standing in your truth
I honour myself first and foremost
How can I possibly honour you
If I cannot honour myself first
Even though I knew this would hurt you deeply
I would only hurt you more if I had stayed
To stay would be to dishonour not only myself but to dishonour you also
Honour yourself always
Be who you are
Stand tall and proud
I wish you all the love and joy in the world
We are not meant to be
This Dance Fly has attacked a Midge from behind. While grasping the unfortunate midge firmly with its stout raptorial middle legs, it has pierced the soft neck tissue of its prey to suck out its bodily contents .
The poisons are in tiny hairs on the edge and underside of the leaves. Each hair is, effectively, a sealed hypodermic syringe. Brushing passed a hair breaks off the top leaving a sharp end which sticks into the skin. Continuing sideways movement results in the bulb containing the poisons being squeezed so that the toxins are injected. The sideways action is essential to break the tops off and leads to the concept of 'grasping the nettle' which suggests that you can avoid damage to the hairs if you take hold of the plant with no sideways movement.
This is a Yellow Legged Honeycreeper, which is often confused with a hummingbird because of its beak. It's a member of the Tanager family and it uses the long curved beak to pierce the backs of flowers to obtain nectar. I love this pose!
Moremi Game Reserve
Okavango Delta
Botswana
Southern Africa
Hurray, it's 2023!
Botswana has the largest elephant population on the continent due to tight protection and civil unrest in neighboring countries. The relative difficulty in accessing the wildlife areas coupled with the military threat to poachers has allowed the elephant population in Botswana to grow.
The Okavango Delta also sees high concentrations of elephant due to the permanent water source.
There have been incidents of poaching in Botswana, mainly rhino, but the government decided to set up a military task force in the fight against the scourge. Poachers were ruthlessly dealt with and the task force became a full-time anti-poaching unit.
The Linyanti area of Botswana was once a hunting concession but in the past 10 years, with only photographic tourism being offered, the elephants are starting to return en masse to the region and Linyanti today is being touted as equal to Chobe when it comes to elephant experience. – Wikipedia
Escuchar esta canción :
es.easternlightning.org/videos/give-heart-before-God-MV.html
Música cristiana 2020 | Entrega tu corazón ante Dios si crees en Él
I
Como crees en Dios, debes entregar tu corazón delante de Dios.
Si ofreces y pones tu corazón delante de Dios,
entonces durante el refinamiento va a ser imposible
que niegues a Dios o que dejes a Dios.
De esta manera tu relación con Dios
se hará todavía más cercana y más normal
y tu comunión con Dios se hará aún más frecuente.
Si siempre practicas de esta manera,
entonces vas a pasar más tiempo a la luz de Dios
y más tiempo bajo la guía de Sus palabras,
también habrá más y más cambios en tu carácter
y tu conocimiento aumentará día con día.
II
Cuando el día venga y las pruebas de Dios de repente caigan sobre ti,
no solo podrás permanecer al lado de Dios
sino que también podrás dar testimonio de Dios.
En ese momento vas a ser como Job y Pedro.
En ese momento vas a ser como Job y Pedro.
Después de haber dado testimonio de Dios, en verdad lo vas a amar
y con gusto vas a dar tu vida por Él;
vas a ser testigo de Dios
y alguien a quien Dios ama.
El amor que ha experimentado el refinamiento es fuerte y no débil.
Independientemente de cuándo o cómo Dios te someta a Sus pruebas,
no te preocupa si vives o mueres,
no te preocupa si vives o mueres,
con gusto desechas todo por Dios
y todo lo aguantas contento por Dios,
y de esta manera tu amor será puro y tu fe real.
Solo entonces serás alguien a quien Dios verdaderamente ama
y a quien Dios verdaderamente ha perfeccionado.
De “Seguir al Cordero y cantar nuevos cánticos”
Escuchar más: Canciones de alabanza
"For me, this epitomizes and reminisces of childhood innocence in a sense that as youth, in many cases, we tend to experience such persistent and perpetual feelings of wanderlust that it overwhelms us and swallows us up, because we're all so sheltered and we so desperately long for freedom, for a change of scenery and for independence and I suppose that's exactly what the sailboat symbolizes in my perspective. It's almost as if you're holding your entire future in front of you with your eyes closed, because you're breathing it in and you're dreaming; dreaming of something that feels so tangible, yet so surreal, simultaneously. But instead, since you've grown older, you're reflecting on those times of adolescence when all of your treasured material items mirrored precisely what you perceived your future would resemble and soon enough, you'll sail around the world, because your future is waiting, and it's almost here, and you're just grasping it by a thread within the spaces between your fingertips and it feels so real."
-Ting Shuen
“The happiness we seek cannot be found through grasping, trying to hold on to things. It cannot be found through getting serious and uptight about wanting things to go in the direction we think will bring happiness.” ~Pema Chodron
Best viewed large by clicking on the photo. Thanks for visiting, I appreciate your feedback.
Poem for November
They’re hangers-on
Refuse to leave the party.
When all the guests have gone
They straggle slow
To find their coats and glasses
Misplaced, lost, never worn.
Excuses to cling like toddlers
Grasping mommy’s hem
Ready to burst in tears
To want to stay forever.
But Nature has a way
Rebirth and regeneration
Demand room.
Mildred Alpern
It might be said I am up-loading this picture more for my benefit than for others on flickr who might view this. Currently I am working with with Photoshop 2026, 2025 and on some occasions the old version of Photoshop CS6.
A lot of experimenting going on (as well as learning). Although there are many new features being touted by Adobe Systems, I have to say I am not particularly impressed with PS 2026. Adobe seems to be overly emphasizing AI in this newest version of Photoshop and moreover seem to be grasping at straws in many respects………Additionally they are “sneaking in” additional charges involving many other the AI based features.
Frankly many users (including yours truly) are not sure which features are included as “no charge” and which features do result in a charge. They are not making it easy for users to determine this. Obviously, they (like many companies these days) are attempting to find ways to increase revenues………and are not being totally transparent as to these additional charges.
In this instance, however, AI did a fantastic job of replacing the large red umbrella that was on the deck. It also replaced the reflected image of the red umbrella that was showing in the water just above the foreground foliage......and through the branches (or stems) of the small trees in the foreground. An admirable job in this instance...............however AI can be unpredictable, not always producing the results intended.
View at largest size to gauge the results.
Chapter 12
It was another late night pouring over images; deleting, cataloging, organizing, choosing submissions - 'the workflow'. I hate the workflow. It was 3 am and I'd been fighting to stay awake for a while now. I was about to call it quits for the night, when I heard a soft melody drifting, somewhere in the background. From the flat next-door? And a faint yet pugnent smell of... what was that?... incense? massage oil and sweat?? Perfume?
Then... over my shoulder, the sound of a whisper I couldn't make out. I turned. "Sally! What... how did... what happened to you? Where were you..."
"You know", she said. It was her voice, but with an eerie, far away tone I'd never heard before. "I've been here" she continued, "right here".
"What... what do you mean? I... I don't understand" I stammered.
"Silly, silly, boy" she giggled. "I'm not real" she said. "You know that, right?"
"But... but I... we... our photos... our sessions..." my head began to spin.
"Il-eona!" she replied.
"What? I... "
"Il-eona... iliwa. Weikeu... weiku. Dangis-i gaya" I heard her say, her voice changing to a slightly higher pitch, and taking on a hypnotic, melodic twang"
"I don't und..." I said, as the music grew louder and louder - drowning out my voice... my thoughts. The music. An oddly familiar tune. Where had I heard it before??
Chapter 13
My head still spinning, I closed my eyes tightly. The music... the sounds and smells... so familiar. But how?
And where was I? I was in my flat, looking through shots from earlier in the week... wasn’t I?? I felt a hand on my upper arm... a gentle shake and “Weikeueob! Wake up!” in that same musical, hypnotic, woman’s voice. And in a short, curt but sweet broken English “time to go now.”
I opened my eyes and tried to focus them in the smokey, dimly lit room. There - my clothes, lying crumpled in the corner. A snuffed out candle, burnt low. A tattered, heavy, velvety-red curtain covering a small window, hazy wisps of light peaking around the edges to bathe the dusty air. A table cluttered with incense, an empty absinthe bottle, oils, small drinking glasses one of them stained with lip stick, some scattered powders and substances I didn’t recognize, a thin red veil covering jars of some mysterious, exotic substances. A ledge with a small lamp, a crystal vase and some ornaments and knickknacks... a few Halloween decorations scattered throughout. I looked up, into the beautifully large, dark eyes or the oriental-looking girl standing over me. “S... Sally?” I said, in my confusion. “Yes, me Sally” she said, showing her smile. “We have fun, but you... too much. Too much fun - no good. Too much no good. You understand? Only little fun.” she said, gesturing with her thumb and forefinger. “Umm... I...” was all I managed, grasping to make sense of something that, at least to me, made none at all. Remember, I told myself. Remember. I closed my eyes again trying to remember and relive, to make sense of the past days.
When I opened my eyes again I was someplace different. A bed. Crisp white sheets. Everything is so white. There’s something...in my arm. An I.V. A hospital. I’m in a hospital bed. There’s a voice “Doctor - come quick. He’s conscious”. A tall, thin man rushed into the room, dressed all in white. “I... where am I?” I ask. “You’re at College Hospital” he said. “Can you tell us what happened to you? Some passer-byes found you, in the streets, delirious, wearing clothes obviously not yours. They brought you here. Do you remember anything? Anything at all??”
Remember. “Sally” I said softly. “Sally” I whispered, as I closed my eyes... for the last time.
------------
First - apologies. I started this as a 365. But when I added the story, it began to write itself... including the ending. Thanks to those who took the time to view the images and read the text.
The story is a tribute to 2 great creative artists: Tim Burton and Edgar Allan Poe.
In the spirit of Halloween, and if you have time, I hope you’ll watch a Tim Burton movie and get lost in his magical world of crazy but relate-able characters. Or that you’ll read a story from the genius imagination of Poe, or read about his mysterious death (of which the ending of this series is based).
Edgar Allen Poe died this month (October 7th) in 1849. He was found delirious in the streets of Baltimore, taken to hospital, and never regained coherency (or perhaps only briefly) before his death. How he spent his last five days, how he came to be in such a state, why he wasn’t wearing his own clothes, his cryptic calling out for “Reynolds” during the night, and even the cause of his death, remains a mystery and source of much speculation and theory, even to this day.
******* Happy Halloween everyone! *********
P.S. - sorry for running behind (it’s been a busy time, and a challenge just to get the daily image posted). I will catch up viewing everyone photos and comments soon!
Captured amidst the vibrant setting of Sebastian Inlet, Florida, this photograph encapsulates a riveting moment in avian interaction. Witness the graceful pursuit of a Brown Pelican (Pelecanus occidentalis) as it eagerly chases an Osprey (Pandion haliaetus) grasping a freshly caught fish. The pelican's determined flight, juxtaposed against the osprey's swift escape, creates a dynamic narrative of predator and prey in the wild.
From a photographer's perspective, this shot embodies the essence of wildlife photography: patience, anticipation, and the pursuit of fleeting moments. The composition highlights the intricate dance of light and shadow, with the shimmering waters of Sebastian Inlet providing a picturesque backdrop. By employing rapid shutter speed and precise framing, I aimed to freeze this exhilarating chase, allowing viewers to immerse themselves in the raw beauty and drama of nature.
©2020 Adam Rainoff Photographer