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She sits with her friends, and she waits. She enjoys the music that is coming from the wonderful box, so she takes her headphones off and listens.
"Thank you for the music right to my ears!" she said to her little robot music makers. She set them carefully on the floor beside her and closed her eyes to listen to the new music.
She smiles to herself...."Can you hear it? Can you feel what is in the music?" She asked her friends. "It is coming, and I can't wait....it is my favourite time ever."
She closes her eyes again, and waits.
Photographer.Editor.Pose Maker.Doll: Spirit Eleonara
Phonograph: Contraption
Hope Robot: :BAMSE:
Lamp: BackBone
Clock: Contraption
Robot Headphones: Azoury
Pillow: Azoury
Dress: Katatonic
Rug: DRD
Glasses: Contraption
The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.
Matsuo Basho
Beautiful flowers my wife got from her friend following an unexpected death in the family.
(SEE & HEAR)---Southern Pacific, SP #9400-7358-8043-342-117-275, on the D&RGW Tennessee Pass line with eastbound coal at Clear Creek, Colorado. April 21, 1997. Jack D Kuiphoff photo © video
See this live in my Youtube link.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=iwXSasGGiAQ
fb 7-26-2020,
Hear the winnowing
Wilson's Snipe
Just past the willow
thicket. Watch the sun
show herself
on the far edge
of the shadows
she creates.
Thought it was so cute how these turtles all had their heads turned in the same direction!
Have a great day!
Thanks so much everyone for your visits and encouraging comments!!! I'm so glad to hear from some of my friends!!! ; )
We cannot pass our guardian angel's bounds, resigned or sullen, he will hear our sighs.
Saint Augustine
This Red Winged Blackbird is calling out for a mate...then listens intently for a reply...did anyone of you ladies hear my sweet call !
Pushing on that trigger is like pulling magic into my very soul...Darrell.
Have a safe and awesome day dear Flickr friends !
God, hear me!
They told me you didn't exist, and I trusted them like a jerk.
But last night, in the garnet hole, I saw your heaven.
Suddenly, I realized they were lying to me.
If I tried to take a good look
on the things you created,
I'd understand right away that those
they denied that the cat is cat.
It's strange that I had to
get to this hell,
so I can have time to see your face
I like you so much...
That's what I wanted you to know.
There's going to be a terrible battle coming up.
Who knows?
Maybe I'll come to your place tonight.
We weren't good friends,
And I'm asking, my God,
will you be waiting for me at the door?
Look, this is how I cry!
I'm the one who's here going to start whining!
If only I'd known you sooner...
let's go! We have to go now!
It's ridiculous:
When I met you,
I'm not afraid to die anymore.
goodbye!
A prayer found in the backpack of a soldier who died in 1944 at the Battle of Montecassino ...
(SEE & HEAR)---Monongahela Railway, MGA GP38's 2000-2004 -CR SD50's 6708-6768, leads a Conrail train cresting the grade on the Manor branch at MP11. Sycamore, Pennsylvania. February 3, 1990. Jack D Kuiphoff photo © video
See this scene live in my Youtube link.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=cNfftl73WLo
fb, 2/13/2023
(SEE & HEAR)---Arizona & California, ARZC #3804-#2001-#2003-#2502, with westbound train 707 on the ex-Santa Fe, crossing the Colorado River at Earp, California May 2, 1996. Jack D Kuiphoff photo © video
See this scene live in my Youtube link.
I'm still alive! Here's a shot of Selene in all her overly dramatic glory ♥
I moved to another city and started studying in a new school so life has been rather exhausting lately ^^' I hope I'll have more energy and time for this hobby once I get used to all the new things in my life...
(SEE & HEAR)---CSXT Seaboard Systems SD50 #8546 -SD40-2 #8412 -GP40-2 #6157 -GP30M #4248 -SD40-2 #8144, westbound at Keyser, West Virginia. September 26,1989. Jack D Kuiphoff photo © video
See this live in my Youtube link.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=kt5KreA2tmw
fb 6/05/2022, AR
My second attempt with my new avatar... her name right now is model4larry... lol
Help me give her a real name, one that fits her image... :)
"Men profess to be lovers of music, but for the most part they give no evidence in their opinions and lives that they have heard it." - Henry David Thoreau
Garden with colourful plants, shrubs and water features, created by eminent Japanese designer Shoji Nakahara in 1991 as part of the Japan Festival.
Perfectly manicured, the landscape garden’s waterfall quietly trickling is the only background noise you’ll hear. It’s easy to see why it made the list of most beautiful places in London.
The three-step waterfall symbolises mountains and deep gorges while the large pond depicts a vast ocean – a natural landscape in miniature form.
Traditional Japanese garden elements such as stone lanterns (Toro) and a stone wash basin (Tsukubai) are also present.
In the next 10 days I'll not be online, the day of my fourth visit to the Netherlands has finally arrived! See you soon my friends!
Zenit + Kodak ultramax 400
During the monsoon, or summer thunderstorm season, Arizona experiences more severe weather than many other states.
you can smell, hear and see storms coming.
ipiccy.com
(SEE & HEAR)---C&NW, Chicago and North Western SD40-2's 6901- 6864, leading an eastbound across the Burlington Northern diamond at Rochelle, Illinois. June 17, 1993. Jack D Kuiphoff photo & video
See this scene and others in my Youtube link...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=h1LajLrhTZ4
FB, 5/05/2024
tp,
It is you that I see
When I awake
This vision in my head
As I open up my eyes
For the first time each day
Heart beating so very close
Warm within my soul
It is you that I hear
Each time I listen from my ears
Your voice…so clear
Even in the silent moments
It is you that I taste
At the tip of my tongue
Past beyond my lips
Consuming into one
It is you that I smell
So vividly crisp
The scent of you a reminder
That you are near
It is you that I touch
Feeling your skin
The very layer that envelops me at night
That soft knowing feeling you are there
It is within these senses
That I live and breathe
Knowing that I am alive
Expecting so little in my sustenance
And wanting just a bit of time
Just to be…with you
LFA
Sorry for so many selfies in a row...I haven't been out much lately to get some new shots of things other than myself...
The goat whisperer was surprised to hear the clink of a small piece of slate tripping on another. The sound came from below him, over the edge towards the dark pit of California. And then the sound again. Goat? He moved silently, lightly on his feet, to the buttress overlooking the precipice, and peered over the slate wall along its top. His eyes quickly locked on to a white goat immediately below him, about twenty feet below. She knew he was there but she strode onwards, confidently and carefully over the loose slate hanging along the lip of the quarry. The sight of her surprised him. She was unlike any other goat he had seen in Dinorwic before: all white, lean, ….looking like she was on a long journey. Her haunches hollowed: she hadn’t had much food. And she was alone, a solitary creature. He noticed too she had shed most of her coat in the summer warmth. But instantly she struck him as special: different.
It was a couple of months later when he saw her again, having found her place in a herd. She looked in the peak of fitness now, her coat freshly regrown. Really pretty….for a goat. The males had fought over her when she first arrived but it was clear now that one had claimed her as his own. Hmmm, with that sort of attitude it was only a matter of time before she gave him the horn....…up the back side!
“If nobody hears from me this evening, tell them this is where they’ll find me, at the bottom of a low cliff with a small waterfall running over the edge of it.”
The message I’d just shared, together with a Google map pin was written mostly in jest, but a tiny bit of me was serious. Coastal erosion had been at work since the path was first trodden, and although much of it was quite certain underfoot, there were one or two places where it didn’t pay to be looking up and gawping at the landscape. Here, where a tiny stream cut across the muddy trail, a fifty foot drop lay just a couple of feet to the left. A leap of faith to the other side. I wasn’t looking forward to the return hike after dark, even though the torch was fully charged and in the bag.
There were only two locations that were a done deal before I made my arrangements to visit the Dingle Peninsula. And I’d already decided that if I wasn’t happy with the first visit to either of them, the third and final day would be spent trying again ahead of any other considerations. The first, Dunmore Head, was relatively easy to get to. A fifteen minute yomp from the car park to the edge of the ocean and a place that offered some spectacular seascape action. I’d done that yesterday before finding my billet. Today the second non negotiable target, Ballydavid Head, was far less immediate. It would take the better part of an hour just to get to the view I wanted, and the path along the cliff edge that skirted farming pastures had looked pretty sketchy even on the map. But nowhere had caught my imagination quite like the Three Sisters headland had, and I wasn’t prepared to miss it under any circumstances. So armed with a camera bag, a flask of turmeric and ginger tea, a deli chicken sandwich that was almost the size as one of the hills outside the window (which I very nearly left in the fridge and undid the done deal) and a fleece lined hat that would have even a Mongolian yak herd nodding in approval, I set off. And just in case that enormous sandwich wasn’t enough, I also had an orange and two pretend Snickers bars from Lidl. Or Marathons for those of you who are even more stubborn than me about clinging to the past. Whatever you want to call them, they’re half the price and I can’t tell the difference. Can you?
With little thought, I left my wellies and waterproof trousers in the car, a moment of carelessness that would come back to soak me on the bum later. And once I’d negotiated the tricky path, there was the question of trying to follow it along a dog leg turn across boggy marshland and ditches towards the high ground. There it was, as clear as day on the map, yet non-existent in reality. I didn’t want to come to a sorry end sinking slowly into a lonely bog, so I followed a narrow sheep track. I just hoped that the sheep that made the track hadn’t come to a sorry end sinking slowly into a lonely bog. I climbed down one side of a deep ditch, hopped across and clambered up the other bank. This was getting tiresome and I really wasn’t keen on retracing my steps later in the dark. There was a simple option. I’d trespass my way back to the car. By that I mean I might cross a field or two; not ending up sitting in the farmer's front room, wearing his wellies and silk pyjamas, drinking his Jamesons Special Reserve and smoking a cheroot by the fireplace. But that was something to worry about later. For now, I’d come here to photograph the breathtaking Kerry coast. And this one promised everything.
After the ditch, the going became easier. And then the things ramped up again as I began the steep climb. But I broke the uphill slog more than once, stopping to admire the scenery and try some shots from the lower slopes. And then I pushed on towards the top, arriving at a place where all the superlatives were lost. Here, the words to describe the views ran right out from under my feet and disappeared into the wind before I could even begin to articulate them. There are a few places I’ve been lucky enough to visit where I’ve simply stood, open mouthed, disbelieving and struck dumb by the landscape before me. Vestrahorn, Haifoss, Glencoe and the Fanal Forest spring to mind. They’re effortlessly matched by the view from Ballydavid Head across to the Three Sisters and the lookout tower high above them on Sybil Head, with Tearaght Island disappearing and reappearing from behind angry dark sheets of rain that spread themselves across the horizon. And in each of those other places I’ve usually had to plant my tripod amid a forest of others. Here, I hadn’t seen a single person since I left the car. Not one. Not even a moving dot in the landscape far below. I was completely alone, cherishing each blissful moment. This really is as good as it gets. My expectations hadn’t just been exceeded - they’d been grabbed by the scruff of the neck, shaken roughly, slapped about the chops, and booted somewhere over the distant Atlantic horizon. This was triple A plus list territory, worth every one of the uncertain steps it took to get here and more. When I think back to 2024 in the years to come, this will be one of the moments I think of first.
As the hours passed, the silent curtain began to close in from all sides. Until now I’d watched the vicious squalls passing over Clogher Head to the south, and out to sea in the north, but there was no avoiding this one. I kept on shooting for as long as I dared, quickly stowing the camera away as the first hailstones thrashed into me. This was exhilarating. A little too exhilarating in fact. And although I’d planned to stay up here for the rest of the day, it seemed very likely that there was more to come. Plan B was needed. Clogher Head was only a couple of miles from my base, and there I could stay close to the car if I needed to make a run for it. I’d already got the shots I wanted, and a glowing sunset seemed unlikely. I careered down the mountain in a different direction, heading for those farm fields and the lane I was pretty sure would take me back to the car. Over saturated ground and tinkling streams that probably weren't there an hour earlier. Through a farm gate and along the muddy lane towards the hamlet, where only the smell of woodsmoke from a cosy looking cottage told me the place wasn’t abandoned. I wonder whether it was the one I’d been planning to trespass in?
I arrived back at the car in just half an hour. My Gore Tex shoes had been breached, and everything below the trouser line had succumbed to the weather. Omelettes, eggs, you know the proverb. With just an hour and a half until darkness would fall, I set off in search of Plan B and Clogher Head. Which very quickly changed into Plan C. And there’s another story to tell about that.
I was glad to hear this Eastern Towhee singing up a storm yesterday on the trail at Graham Creek...then I just had to look up to find him !
I'll be hoping to do this shot again soon as lock-down ends and the WAG service resumes. 67020 heads across the river near Caerleon with 1W96 17:16 Cardiff Central to Holyhead back in April 2018.
(SEE & HEAR)---WFA-1, ex-C&O SD40, Escalante Western, at the power plant rotary dump, Prewitt, New Mexico. April 17, 2001. Jack D Kuiphoff photo © video
Cab ride video on this train in my Youtube link
www.youtube.com/watch?v=WNrKWLNfQEE
return loaded cab ride.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UkbUnVkDoXA
tp. rpn