View allAll Photos Tagged Hefty,
A hefty J780 works east out of Brownstown passing one of the few bracket mast signals left on the Indiana Sub.
“Come to Crosby,” they said. “See the famous statues, brainchild body casts of one of the world’s leading sculptors, eye catching and thought provoking as they gaze enigmatically out to sea. Then take a photograph of the sewage pipe instead.” And there was the word “No,” emblazoned upon the object of my attentions. What can it mean? Obviously I haven’t troubled myself too much in seeking the answer with the assistance of Google - that would almost spoil the fun wouldn’t it? What were we doing here? An equally valid question that I was having trouble answering as another blast of wind came hammering down the beach from the direction of Blackpool and beyond, carrying a billion droplets of cloudburst in its fury. This was a tough outing back at the coast, after four relatively agreeable days in the gentler climes of the Peak District. Just last night we had enjoyed a glowing sunset at Roach End Barn, soft orange light filling the horizon as the first instalment of our adventure came to its conclusion. But this morning all of that had changed, a steady drizzle building into something rather more forthright as we approached the Merseyside coast. By the time we arrived at Crosby, the warm May sunshine of recent days had fizzled out, extinguished by a weather system that marched in from the north, sending temperatures plummeting and raincoats rustling as we took our chances on the beach.
I love moody conditions. I don’t even mind a white featureless sky if I think I can use it. Rain is often an ally if tackled with the right mindset. Often, but not always, and this was starting to feel like one of those “not always” moments. I’d made a conscious decision to use the telephoto lens for this shoot, and once that particular bargain had been struck, there was no going back. And while this was giving me the compositions I’d been hoping for, the wind and rain were combining to make taking photographs very difficult, especially long exposures with a hefty focal length. I’d already lost a lens cloth, which had ghosted away on the wind without me even noticing its urgent departure, and the makeshift bin liner rain protection had failed at the first attempt to use it. With my back to the weather I could shoot directly south with reasonable results, but pointing the camera out to sea was going to be a bit of a challenge. Especially when the lens hood was going to be needed to have any chance of escaping with something more than a collection of drizzly smudges for my efforts. A big tottering assembly on a windy beach with a grumpy old soul doing his best to protect it with his not very imposing bulk. A portable brick wall or the front row from the local rugby team might have been handy here today. Even one of Mr Gormley’s sculptures, if strategically placed, might have helped, but none of them were willing to abandon their positions and lend me a hand. I asked one of them whether it was a case of upsetting the aesthetics, but he ignored me and carried on watching whatever had been holding his attention out there on the Irish Sea for all of these years. He didn’t even blink. It was taking a while to get into a rhythm here, but despite the conditions, the possibilities seemed almost without limit.
And if you don’t keep trying, you won’t get anything at all, so without the assistance of anyone or anything else, I persevered. Twenty of thirty failures would be fine - only one of them needed to pass the blur test. Just a brief pause in the Arctic blast and things might be ok. By now the rain had done everything it was going to, and I wasn’t going to get any wetter. But I was getting hungry - we hadn’t stopped for lunch on the way here from Buxton and the afternoon was ticking by on this freezing cold expanse. I carried on for as long as I could, conscious that Dave and Lee were almost certainly waiting in the car. Eventually the time to retreat had arrived. It was difficult to tell from the back of the camera, but hopefully at least some of the shots I’d taken would be passable.
Happily, it seemed that persistence had paid off. Somehow, but don’t ask how, I managed to come away with one acceptable long exposure of the rickety old structure and the mid-tide ladder to the sea. I never even noticed the simple one word command on the subject itself until reviewing the raw files later on. Does it say “yes” when the sun is shining? Does whoever drew the short straw from among the bright eyed young apprentices at the local council have to paddle out and change the sign each time the weather takes a turn? Why does the sewage outlet temple vaguely resemble a large plastic water bottle? On reflection, I don’t want to know - I kind of like the mystery.
KNWA KN34-06 crosses one of many trestles on the former Virginian. With a hefty lashup, they'll have no problem reaching Deepwater.
Just after midday, I decided to go out for this working. The weather forecast was for sunshine and occasional heavy showers, so I was hoping for a 'lively' sky.
It left on time, but an occasional glance at my phone suggested that it had stopped at East Midlands Parkway station. I arrived at Seaton just as a downpour intruded, and had the train run to time, photography would have been virtually impossible.
I hung around for half an hour and the rain stopped, but the train didn't move so I headed for home. Twenty five minutes later, I pulled up on my drive and saw that 5Q68 had moved for the first time in an hour and a half. It then stopped again at Loughborough, and it was another half an hour before it got going again.
The working was booked to run via Corby, but I've known many delayed trains to be diverted 'main line' via Leicester/Market Harborough - a shorter and quicker route. So, I waited until Railcam confirmed that it was still going via Corby before setting off back to Seaton.
The journey required a bit of brisk driving as I headed towards a large storm cloud, but fortunately there were no delays in the reasonably busy Friday afternoon traffic so I had a few minutes in hand.
I got out of the car just as the thunder and lightning started - one hefty fork occurred right in front of me about a mile away, closely followed by a long roll of thunder that moved across the sky providing a sonic treat!
Getting the right composition was tricky, as a large patch of sunflowers had burst into bloom since my last visit. The sky was a belter though, and was at its best as 'City of Truro' passed by 136 minutes late.
The rain became heavier halfway back to the car, amid further lightning and thunder activity which was almost overhead. Just as I slung my camera bag into the boot, the rain became torrential, and I could hardly see where I was going for the first mile or so. Five minutes later and I was back in the dry with pleasant sunshine - indeed, we hadn't had a spot of rain at home and the storm clearly headed away from Kettering.
So, one of the most exciting adventures of recent times, the photo doesn't really do justice to what I saw and heard but I hope you like it. The sky looks unreal, but I can promise you it was actually even more dramatic!
47749 'City of Truro' and 720109 with the 5Q68 12.47 Derby Litchurch Lane to Wembley Inter City Depot.
I have heard it said that when traveling in rural U.S., there are two sure signs of a good restaurant:
1. There are lots of trucks in the parking lot, and/or
2. There is an image of an animal on the restaurant sign.
The Dixie Pig, in Abilene, Texas usually has plenty of trucks in the parking lot. I shot this photo after hours. And it definitely meets point number 2 on the list above!
During open hours this diner does a hefty business.
Camera: Minox 35 GL, with Minotar f2.8 35mm lens. www.flickr.com/photos/194048042@N06/52550233114/in/album-...
Film: Ultrafine Extreme 100.
Developing: Caffenol C-M.
On 25th March 1938, Miss Annie Gumbley drove her 1934 Austin Seven saloon to Smith's Garage, Bournville (the suburb of Birmingham famous for Cadbury chocolate) to trade it in against a new Morris. Paying the balance of £88 5s 10d cash, and with the receipt signed over a 2d stamp, she took delivery of DOX 835, a smart new maroon Morris Eight Series II 4-door saloon with sliding head and aluminium number plates. The list price on the invoice was £149 0s 0d plus £1 1s 4d delivery, plus a hefty extra of £1 0s 0d for those smart plates. An hour's run around Bournville with the garage proprietor completed the transaction, and she returned to home to 14 Thorn Road...
Seen at Toddington classic car day in Gloucestershire on 9th June 2019.
JVRR 2106 heads north/west up the famous stretch of street running trackage on Water St. in Lewistown, PA. 2106 is heading for Standard Steel where it will pick up a hefty train of boxcars to be taken back to Lewistown Junction later that morning.
The time of year for fake trains around Balaton is nearly upon us. Every summer for two weekends MAV replaces the normal trains on their Balaton with historic consists. Its naturally a circus with fans from all over Europe but I really enjoy it still. For such an experience most other places you would have to pay a hefty fee, here its all still organized by the railways for no extra charge. In a few years the Balaton north line should be fully electrified, and that will be the end of it.
In 2021 I made a stopover in Balaton along with Thomas Kabisch on our way to Romania. Here we see M62-194 departing Badacsonytomaj in a cloud of typical M62 smoke
CN sent hefty power west from Stevens Point to Minneapolis. The daily CN train had two SD70M-2s, CN 8811 and 8823, and they looked good here at the Northtown Yard interchanging cars.
On the first day we’d collected Brian from the offices of the rather wonderful Snail rental company in Rekyjavik. In the car park on the industrial estate at the edge of the city, an entire fleet of mostly yellow, elderly VW campervans had been awaiting our pleasure, and we’d been allocated a marvellous specimen in return for a hefty Icelandic sized hit upon the credit card. Brian had no less than two hundred and eighty-three thousand kilometres on the clock, yet he ran as quietly and eagerly as a brand new California 6.1 model rolling straight off the production line. It was a happy/sad collection in fact. We were excited at travelling along the entire ring road in such a splendid vehicle, but at the same time we were told it was the company’s last year of trading. “I’m sixty-nine and Arni is now seventy,” Siggi explained to me. It seemed that they’d skipped their golden years to run a fleet of VW campers, but retirement now beckoned. As we waited for our vehicle at the forecourt, a man had arrived from Norway to take one of Brian’s friends home forever. “An old customer,” Siggi explained. “He’s buying one of our vans.” Even though we’d just arrived fresh-faced onto the scene with no previous knowledge of Snail, Siggi, Arni, Brian or the Norwegian visitor, I felt like shedding a tear. The end of an era had arrived and we were there to witness the final acts.
Following Arni’s instructions, we headed north towards Snaefellsnes, through the rain, stopping at the Bonus supermarket at Borganes, a ritual which I feel will become an inevitable touchstone on all future visits to the country that haunts me in my sleep as I fantasise about the next visit. Less than twenty-four hours later, with the first adventures at Budir and Kirkjufell behind us on this race against the clock, and the rain still falling softly, we parked very briefly by the edge of the water at Kolgrafarfjörður. Here the glistening highway stretched ahead of us across the fjord and into the low mountains of the northern side of the peninsula. Somewhere, maybe two or three hours away along roads and tracks that seemed almost deserted, lay the main route that would take us around the entire country all too quickly. Today was Monday – by Friday night we’d be back in that car park in Reykjavik, having seen and not seen the whole of Iceland as we passed through it. So much to explore, and nowhere near enough time to do so.
But throughout that adventure, there were moments like this to steal and savour from the long miles in front of us. Moments when I would pinch myself and say things like “we’re actually in Iceland!” I’d been dreaming about these fleeting days in this fantasy landscape so long and it still didn’t seem real. The empty road didn’t seem real either for that matter. Even in the more remote corners of our own nation it’s hard to escape the endless traffic, but here on this breathtaking peninsula, where just a few small towns huddle for shelter along the coast, it seemed at times that we were the only humans left alive. In other moments we might arrive at a well known hotspot to a full car park and bus loads of tourists, but none of them seemed to be interested in stopping in places like this as they raced away from Kirkjufell and back towards civilisation.
And the thing about this image, taken as a passing snapshot from the layby, is that it was completely overlooked in favour of all those hotspot shots from Skogafoss, Dyrholaey, Godafoss, Vestrahorn, Reynisfjara and so many others. I’d also taken a handheld panorama here, but the edit hadn’t grabbed me. It was only when, much later I revisited the single image with the lone car, headlights glowing and breaking through the greys of the dark morning that I thought again. It was yet another shot that didn’t work in colour, but where a high contrast black and white edit caught the mood. I was at the end of the most difficult year of my career when I’d lost my closest colleague and had to step into her shoes and take a seat in the boardroom, while all I’d really wanted to do was gaze into the space beyond the window and dream of Iceland’s waterfalls and mountains and glaciers. I was never a natural high roller. This shot caught how I felt by the end of that long hard emotional year – saturnine and brooding but facing a silvery wet highway that led towards somewhere else. Here in Snaefellsnes it seemed there might be answers.
By the time we arrived back in Reykjavik, just after midnight on the following Saturday morning, we were seriously considering how feasible it would be to hand over the money and take Brian back to Cornwall. He hadn’t missed a beat on our long journey, and we were both smitten. We could take him on the ferry from Seydisfjordur and land on the north coast of Denmark, from where we could gradually roll back to one channel ferry port or another. The odd thing is that the Snail website still exists. Whether they just forgot to close it down, or whether Siggi and Arni found a buyer to take over the family of VW campers remains a mystery. I guess I could try making another booking perhaps?
A trio of Alaskan GP40-2s spring south along the rock shores of the Turnagain Arm with a hefty outbound train for the barge at Whittier. Taking point is one of three remaining geeps in their as-delivered "Black & Yellow" colors.
ARR 120S @ Brird Creek Bridge, Bird Creek, AK
ARR GP40-2 3001 (Original Paint)
ARR GP40-2 3007
ARR GP40-2 3005
Reading & Northern EMD SD50-2 #5018 leads northbound NRFF through Mountain Top, PA with a hefty train in tow.
Well, I am going to end this mini series with two images. This one is a hefty crop, simply discarding the outside pixels, leaving 1600 × 1600 px.
I jsut had to have a close up. I should likely have zoomed all the way in for a portrait styled image, but in all of the excitement, I never really thought to do it.
After navigating through the former Santa Fe Exeter Yard, the San Joaquin Valley Railroad's 608 Job has now begun to work the final active industry left on this trackage. While the train would only need to drop off and pick up one hopper car, there were numerous others that have accumulated at the customer's yard and would need to be moved out of the way before the load could be dropped off. The 440 has just hooked up to nearly the whole set and throttles up, pulling the hefty cut of cars forward. Over time, the rails have sank and shifted with the movement of the earth and trains rolling over them and are likely the original rails laid by the Santa Fe. This scene is complete with elements that have yet to change over the years, which is increasingly hard to find in this day and age in California, and the former FEC motor is quite the cherry on top!
A pair of CSX GP40-3's has the Toledo Subdivision local, L318, rolling south at Klemen (near Ottawa, Ohio). The geeps have their hands full with a hefty 52 cars.
3 GE's lug a hefty WOGR towards Gardner. Typical Panam sent a 27 car 287 on its way right before this train got to Gardner, causing it to sit and wait until another set of power could pick the cars up. Surprisingly it only took 3 hours.
Back in 2014 Leopard and did a day on the CSXT Mountain Sub. Q316 is a Queensgate Yard in Cincinnati, OH, to Cumberland, MD, freight and was the only pair of freight trains seen over this lightly use route back in 2014. Here Q316 passes the beautiful depot in Oakland as they make their way towards Cumberland with a hefty consist. The train just crossed from West Virginia to Maryland.
Another first for me, or at least a first that was not taken from 200 feet away. Still it was at some distance so this is a pretty hefty crop, but I am fine with that. I think almost all birds are beautiful, but I think this has to be one of the most interesting looking ducks that I have come across.
This guy and a few others were spotted near the submerged bird house from a few posts ago. I sat patiently in the ditch and eventually he floated across my view.
I am not very familiar with these guys at all, so I am unsure of how accurate I have the colour, and it may sound odd, but much of the colour I am basing on the water, which is reflecting spring green leaves on trees in the background. The landscape has definitely changed in the last week as have many reflections.
Well, since I posted a likely female, and a for sure male, I thought it is only fitting to post a Baby Ruddy Duck.
taken from quite a distance, and these guys are tiny at this stage, this is a hefty crop to the center pixels without any downsizing, and although the detail may not be the absolute best, I feel that it does not take away from the cuteness factor.
taken about six weeks ago, I know they grow fast, but it always concerns me to see something so small at that time of year. I hope it was strong enough to make the journey south.
Seems like the Oelwein job isn't making it back to Waterloo sometimes. That means there is potential for a daylight trip south on the Oelwein Sub. As is the case today, the Waterloo switcher crew is working back to Waterloo with a hefty train out of Oelwein and Fairbank. The train passes the old CNW/UP milepost markers near Cedar Wapsi Road. The Waterloo Railroad is causing some delays as they are out there all day between Linden and Armour. Also, all 10 mph track and grain loading at the far north end also is causing some of the HOS issues.
INSTALLED IN 2000, THE NEVERBUST Chain located in downtown Columbia, South Carolina, connects two large office buildings in whimsical industrial embrace.
While the massive links of the chain look far too large to be real, they are in fact made of steel that the artist had professionally welded together in the interest of safety since the span hangs ten feet over an open public alley. The installation was hefty enough that it required 2,000 pounds of hydraulic pressure to complete the final link.
Conceived of by longtime Colombia artisan Blue Sky (nee Warren Edward Johnson).
www.atlasobscura.com/places/neverbust-chain
Canon EOS REBEL T3i
September 2018
After waiting for a taconite train to clear the west side of Chub Lake, the daily Rapids Turn has some hefty power tonight as it makes its way past the searchlights. I was not expecting to see the Rapids this late, but I am glad I was at the right place at the right time.
Last weeks' weather in the North Carolina was brutally hot, however there was plenty of Southern hospitality on the AC&W. Friendly folks, F-units and freights, and most importantly.....fresh Peaches made the trip worthwhile. Friday's AC&W train 101 from Candor, NC to the CSX interchange at Aberdeen, NC is about to depart Candor with a trio of EMD's. passing the Williams family farm with a hefty train for CSX. With the upsurge of traffic, the railroad has been using the former CN SD60F Cowl units, thankfully with no A/C, they are usually trailing. Rumors were abound that in 2026 they may see paint.
I wasn’t completely sure whether the three young German speaking men to the left of me were discussing the scene in front of us, or the seemingly erratic middle aged photographer that had only moments before been to the left of them. And then to the right of them again, before rapidly returning to their left hand side once more. As the tufts of high cirrus changed from white to gold, and finally to a satisfying pink, perhaps they were wondering why that lone tog appeared to be so confused.
I studied German to A level standard, albeit forty years ago, and only just scraping through. In the intervening four decades, I’ve been able to practice what I learned just twice. Once on a day trip to Vienna from where we were staying on the shores of Lake Balaton in Hungary, and then again during a two hour layover at Dusseldorf airport on the way to Majorca. On the latter occasion the lady who was offering us a free tasting session from the Bailey’s range she was promoting said she'd thought we were just shy before discovering that we weren’t German. Sadly I’d remembered so little that I’d failed to understand a single word she’d said.
But some odd stray remnants of vocab did manage to stay with me – and I knew that the happy trio of German photographers had just declared that something was “unglaublich.” Which means unbelievable if you haven’t got the babel fish implant in your ear. I hoped they were referring to the epic vista in front of us, rather than my very apparent indecision as to which composition I was going with. “Funf minuten” also came across the airwaves during the golden hour. It seemed that one of them was going for a five minute exposure. Either that or he was giving his mates a deadline before setting off for the pub. They reminded me of those halcyon days when Lee, Dave and I would gather together at the exact same patch of ground and more or less take the same image – the days before we began to develop our own styles and stand at least ten yards apart from one another, quite often pointing our cameras in different directions.
Ali and I had spent most of the day gradually making our way south through the mountain roads of Fuerteventura. We’d fueled up on toasted ciabatta sandwiches at the brilliant Alberta’s in Lajares, before taking a wrong turn at Tindaya, and then heading towards the FV30, which took us onto higher ground where we stopped a while to watch the Barbary Squirrels, that have for reasons unknown (to me at least) have made their home on Fuerteventura alone, whilst pointedly ignoring its neighbours. Another brief stop at the old capital of Betancuria, where someone attempted to relieve us of three euros to park, was followed by a longer break at the oasis of Pajara and ice creams from the local Spar.
By now, the afternoon had advanced to a surprisingly late hour, but the timing seemed to have worked out well as I’d wanted to arrive at the observatory of Sicasumbre, a place I was completely unaware of until I’d done some research before our holiday here. The term “observatory” is a bit of a stretch I must confess. More of a patch of high ground with some binoculars mounted on poles for anyone passing by to stop and gaze at the stars. Don’t go expecting a state of the art white dome with sliding doors, a café and restrooms – just saying. But while the use of the word “observatory” required a slight stretch of the imagination, the three hundred and sixty degree views were enough to send me into a spin.
I started by taking a few snaps of compositions on the phone, checking the focal length and making notes for later. Firstly I’d visited a hefty hillock on the opposite side of the road from the more lofty observatory that overlooked a valley of folds and forms towards the west. Then I made my way up to the rocky outcrop, I mean the observatory from where views to the other three compass points opened up. To the south lay the mysterious coastline and mountains of Cofete, a place only accessible by four wheel drive unless you wanted to risk your excess on the hire car and a little bit more. This was the view that enticed yet ultimately frustrated me, the foreground mountain filling too much of the frame and encroaching more closely on the stunning cloud capped hinterland than I’d have liked it to. Heading further to the left found me losing altitude, and ultimately I decided it wasn’t quite going to work. But a couple of draft compositions taken on the phone earlier had looked quite promising, so back across the road I went to the grassless knoll to join those young Germans, who were having an unglaublich time in a heavenly landscape of diagonals and V shapes.
Three compositions caught my eye, and this is what caused my endless shuffling around the contented triumvirate who collectively seemed far more certain of their shots. To the right, a patch of low cloud danced across the mountain crests, while in the middle, a series of interlocking repeating forms lay where the bases of the connecting ranges overlapped one another. And on the left I could see a patchwork of tessellating lines and stunning conical peaks rose and then fell away again. You can’t beat a lot of diagonal lines really.
The light began to fail and the last patches of pink cloud started to turn black. The German party were still having enormous fun. The word “aufwiedersehen” came to me rather more easily, although I had to refrain from adding “pet” in a Geordie accent. What a location. It took us two hours to drive back to our apartment in the darkness, but I was glad we’d made the effort. I’m not sure whether Ali felt the same, but I promised her we’d only come this far south in Fuerteventura on another holiday – one with a four wheel drive included so I can drag her to Cofete at the ends of the earth. Now that’ll be unglaublich for sure.
Final post, or I could say offering in this small series of shots taken during my most recent trip to Elk Island National Park.
Taken from the boardwalk, this couple was at quite a long distance. There were a few Red-necked Grebe couples about, but all of them stayed out in the middle of the bay that borders the boardwalk.
A very hefty crop to the actual center pixels of the image. Although there is really no fine detail showing up well, it is still my favourite shot from the outing.
On my way to the summit of Montscheinspitze, near to sunset hefty wind was chasing the clouds and soonly they were covering the mountains. During a few minutes, the sun was still visible but fading more and more behind the clouds. This led to a very special atmosphere and I could take a series of shots as I was lucky to be at some viewpoints with a beautiful foreground, finally ocassionally as I was a bit slow with my rucksack with a lot of heavy stuff. This panorama was merged from 2 hand-held shots.
The Royal Princess is on the left and the MSC Poesia is on the right. The two ships have a similar length, but the Princess ship is much heftier at 141,000 tons, compared to 92,627 tons for the MSC ship.
I saw this Greater yellowlegs searching for anything available to eat. It bobbed its whole body as if that gave it an advantage at seeing prey There was a pair but they foraged farther from the boardwalk at the South Padre Island Birding Center. The Cornell Labs says this about their sightings: "The Greater Yellowlegs is heftier and longer-billed than its lookalike, the Lesser Yellowlegs. Greater Yellowlegs are seen mostly during migration, as they pass between nesting grounds in the mosquito-ridden bogs of boreal Canada and wintering territories on marshes across the southern tier of the United States."
John takes over babysitting duties for me so I can get a photo from the other side. A hefty northbound 16T works north on the NS Roanoke District. The train passes a classic N&W signal at the south end of the siding called Lithia. This secondary route north of Roanoke features a few trains each day and alot of old N&W signals. Thanks John!
A shot that has been taken many times, just not by me until yesterday came around. The bridge over the Pleasant River in BVJ has been a great photo subject for railroad photographers of a few generations now, and it was my turn recently. A morning extra on the EMR is seen pulling out the yard tracks from CPKC's Brownville Junction Yard in the Tuesday morning sun as they get ready to double their hefty train together. 908 usually runs when CPKC 120 doesn't get into town until after the usual 120 crew is called on EMR, and that was the case on Monday night.
A Red Soldier Beetle on a Cape Daisy. I've given this photo a pretty hefty crop.
Better viewed large and thank you for your favourites. :O)
Grey furry plant :)
This year I have rather foolishly decided to do a Flickr 100x challenge group this year. Let's see how that goes!
The topic is 100x monochrome, to include B&W, mono-colour and toned images. B&W is a fascinating genre but needs a different visual mindset. Hopefully, I'll get better and have fun along the way.
This is close-up of a plant in someone else's garden. It's grey and furry. My mastery of botany is as well...
It reminded me of deer antlers, hence the title. We only have little deer in the woods around here, so not much antler but loads of weird noises when the males are rutting!
Also for the Mittwoch Makro group :)
Thank you for taking the time to look. I hope you enjoy the image! Happy Macro Wednesday and 100x :)
[Handheld in sunlight.
Developed in Photolab 3, for tonal range and also with fairly hefty Prime noise reduction. There was little colour in the image to start with.
Processed in Affinity Photo with the conversion to monochrome using Nik Silver Efex Pro 2, starting with a High Key preset and working from there. Blue toning.
Sharpened back in Affinity using UnSharp Mask, masked to just the in-focus bits so the haloing of the tones and noise wasn't boosted.
Flipped horizontally because it looked better flowing that way. A bit of a crop and a heavy soft dark vignette to finish....]
“Perhaps the most familiar of all ducks, Mallards occur throughout North America and Eurasia in ponds and parks as well as wilder wetlands and estuaries. The male’s gleaming green head, gray flanks, and black tail-curl arguably make it the most easily identified duck. Mallards have long been hunted for the table, and almost all domestic ducks come from this species….. Mallards are large ducks with hefty bodies, rounded heads, and wide, flat bills. Like many “dabbling ducks” the body is long and the tail rides high out of the water, giving a blunt shape. In flight their wings are broad and set back toward the rear…… Mallards are “dabbling ducks”—they feed in the water by tipping forward and grazing on underwater plants. They almost never dive. They can be very tame ducks especially in city ponds, and often group together with other Mallards and other species of dabbling ducks.”
Source : Cornell University Lab of Ornithology
Emigrant Lake – Jackson County – Oregon – USA
This is a completely new work out in Lightroom combined with a panroama composition from 2 hand held shots. Contrast was too hefty at the older single shot I showed years ago. Furthermore, I like the panorama view more at this subject. View goes from Dent d' Herens which is near to the viewpoint up to Grand Combin far behind.
POAY diverges onto the no 2 track at CPF 273 with a hefty train in tow. This would be the last spot we shot them as the sun set not long after this.
The Manly to Butler job slows for the permanent 10mph slow through Greene. The job is hefty today with over 10K. Lots of grain from Manly and oats from the CPKC bound for Quaker Oats. Once to Butler, this train will run through to Waterloo on BUWA and this crew will flip back on BUMA for Manly.
Rottnest Island: the only place on planet Earth you can find Quokkas. Rottnest an island about a 30 minute ferry ride from Fremantle is home to these marsupials tiny kangaroo like animals that hop and carry their young in their pouch. We finally made the trip across and I promised myself 2000 shots - I ended up 500 short so it will require a second trip. I will spend most of the week going through and posting these shots.
Quokkas are known as the happiest animals on earth because of their smile. They are very human friendly but with that very severe hefty fines if you feed or touch them. They will come to you if you are patient.
Sony ILCE-9
E 20mm F2.8 F050
ƒ/2.8 20.0 mm 1/400 ISO 200
Kaskaskia Regional Port District heads west back to KRPD dock # 1 with a hefty train of gypsum loads , limestone empties and flyash loads delivered by CN. This short 5 mile line is a lifeline to the big Prairie State generating station at Marissa IL as most product comes in / out via barge at KRPD. Powering the train is KRRC GP25 # 3145 recently acquired from MEI and 2 leasers ECRX GP15N 1598 and GATX GP38-2 2611. West of Lenzburg IL October 31st 2025.
Taken at Mysterious wave after hefty derendering!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YAEWrnOtrY
Defo looks better bigger
It's hard to gat a clear view from inside the cubicles when the windows are sometimes dirty. Choose a carriage with reasonably clean windows in order to get a clearer shot. The views are breathtaking from all sides. I wished that either they have cleaner windows or a clear opening somewhere suitable for photography. The sunscreen causes a bad colour cast which is taboo for phoyography. That way it would justify and fair to photographers in view of the hefty price they have paid for entry. Re-edited from archives
We got waylaid yesterday by a drama with parts for our range hood (bad customer service) and then took our daughter who turned 33 to lunch followed by a big Bad Panda on flickr. So I am way behind! The restaurant where we took our daughter has a local resident Magpie family who of course actually come in and snaffle tidbits dropped on the floor or left on tables - despite being banned. There was quite a hefty juvenile walking around while we ate.
I couldn't resist taking this shot of a sibling who stayed outside in this spot the whole time. A much thinner sibling, standing on one leg (it did have both legs) and looking a bit forlorn. Maybe it followed the restaurant rules and didn't get to eat the left overs. Anyway, this was taken on my phone - I hope the Magpie lives a long and happy life. We love them!
The common loon is a water bird, but is neither a Duck, nor a Goose, nor a Grebe. I thought for sure they would be classified as a Grebe as they look so similar and also carry their chicks on their backs when the chick needs a rest. But they are actually in a separate classification called Loons.
They are diving birds, and doing just a bit of research I was surprised to learn the following quick facts:
They are quick swimmers, but can fly at up to 110 km/hr
They have many solid bones and can flatten their feathers to expel trapped air so that they can dive quickly and to depths of up to 80 metres.
Because of those solid bones they are slow to take off, requiring them to run on the water for up to half of a kilometer or even more.
Finally, the oldest recorded Common Loon was 29 years and 10 months...I was so surprised at that.
I did not come across many Loons last year and found that they pretty much stick to the center of a pond, so were always at some distance.
This is a very hefty crop and to be honest is better than I remembered, but not as good as I would like to have one day. For now, I am still very pleased to have it as the best that I have to date of this cool looking bird.