View allAll Photos Tagged Hefty,
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.
The BNSF M-SPMSPM with 1915 in the lead heads west out of Northview, MO with a hefty train of 96 bulkhead flats.
Some of my fondest childhood memories are of getting the Christmas tree. We almost always went into the mountains to cut one down. One year all six of us piled into the front of our 66 Chevy truck for the trip. Another year my dad let us pick the tallest tree we could find. A tree trimmer by trade, he climbed up a hundred feet or so and cut the top off the tree. Some years we hiked for what seemed like a mile through the woods to try to find the perfect tree. I don't think the trees we found were any better than the ones right next to our truck, but this was more about the adventure than the tree. I'm not sure if we ever got a tree that actually fit in our house. Most years we'd have to lop off another three feet or so to get it to work. Of course we could have measured it in the mountains, but getting a tree that was too big became part of the yearly ritual.
This year I decided it was high time that we introduced an element of the ridiculous into our trip to get the Christmas tree. We didn't make it to the mountains, but we did manage to strap a hefty tree on top of our cargo bike, which we managed to walk home without crashing (barely). The kids were very proud of their effort.
I took this picture with my phone before we started our journey home. It was almost dark so the image was pretty noisy. I tried to use this to my advantage when processing it. With the old building in the background and no cars in sight, I thought the picture looked like it might have been taken years ago. I hope that years from now our children will come across this picture and remember our Christmas tree adventure.
Feel free to share your own traditions in the comments section. It's fun to hear about other people's traditions, particularly when they involve a bit of silliness.
IAIS CBBI rolls at a slow pace with a hefty eight units pulling a hefty train into Silvis where it will make some pickups and set outs.
A hefty manifest speeds eastbound "wrong-main" as it heads past the Ramsey Northstar Station. I conveniently found the skyway to be unlocked for an overhead comp.
An afternoon with cameras and a fair few fulmars. Used the 7d2 with the sigma zoom and the newer 5D4 with the very useful EF400 F5.6, has to be the lightest/sharpest choice for tired hands to hold for a while. This first several are all with the cropper + sigma zoom. One of the big 1DX series bodies would've been nice but trying a used grip on the 5D3 showed what a great hefty lump those can very quickly become. So I stuck with standard sized DSLR bodies.
A heftily sized bush has taken root under one of the arches of Parkhead Viaduct, Dudley.
Last used in 1993, the decades without maintenance are showing in the brickwork.
……From a hefty ship this piece of rope - needed something to scale it really but it was easily as thick as your wrist! I pondered for ages thinking what the story was behind it - where & why did it become detached from the ship, and where’s the ship now!!! Taken at Poldhu Cove on the Lizard in Cornwall. (And no, there wasn't a Shipwreck here the next day!!!) Alan:-)…….
For the interested I’m growing my Shutterstock catalogue regularly here, now sold 155 images :- www.shutterstock.com/g/Alan+Foster?rid=223484589&utm_...
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©Alan Foster. All rights reserved. Do not use without permission.…… .
NYS&W SU-100 crosses Starrucca Viaduct in Lanesboro, PA, with a hefty train for Jersey. It was a close call for light after a few delays leaving Binghamton, but ended up working out in the end.
The Butler to Manly job rolls through Rockford as they make their way north on the Manly Sub. The hefty train has cars for the CPKC at Nora Springs and a lot of cars for Manly. Guess the Manly elevator is on a loading rampage and keeping this end of the railroad busy. Most of the power sets right now have slugs in them, but this 4 Geep set has been together now for a bit touring the railroad. It's a nice change.
It's time I went down to the beach again to have some more driftwood fun. This is one from a while back when I decided to try and balance this fairly hefty tree that had washed up. it's funny as I walk along the strand line looking for inspiration some bits of wood just scream out to be used. Weightless again is by the Handsome Family
The 1921 Duesenberg, and this their first production car sold and was sold to Samuel Northrup Castle.
Samuel Northrup Castle was a large man with deep pockets, a huge heart for Hawaii, and big plans for the big island. With a love of automobiles and plenty of means to acquire them, the savvy industrialist was looking for the very best car that money could buy. No one built bigger or better cars in the 1920s than Indiana brothers Fred and Augie Duesenberg.
Appropriately enough—considering the Castle family had amassed wealth and influence on the island with business holdings in everything from rapid transit and gas to sugar—Samuel Northrup Castle was ahead of the curve when he became the proud owner of a 1921 Duesenberg Straight Eight. The very first Duesenberg Straight Eight, in fact.
That gorgeous automobile now resides in the Auburn Cord Duesenberg Automobile Museum, a gift from the Castle family, which owned it for a century. Recently, the Duesenberg became the 27th member of the National Historic Vehicle Register, which was created in collaboration with the U.S. Department of the Interior to recognize and document the country’s most historically significant automobiles, motorcycles, trucks, and commercial vehicles.
Brandon Anderson, executive director and CEO of the Auburn Cord Duesenberg Museum, says the Castle Duesenberg certainly earned its place on the list.
“This is a unique story,” Anderson says in a documentary video, The Castle Duesenberg: Luxury Legend, released by the Historic Vehicle Association. “This isn’t passing down your grandmother’s china. It is the first-ever passenger Duesenberg sold to the public … It’s the epitome of luxury. It’s the finest of the fine. It’s a Duesey.”
Fred and Augie Duesenberg had already made a name for themselves in the racing community when they decided to start building passenger cars in the late 1910s. The 1921 Duesenberg Straight Eight Coupe—later referred to as the Model A—was the very first.
Castle placed his order in 1919, but Fred Duesenberg, ever the perfectionist, spent so much time perfecting the car’s single-overhead-cam eight-cylinder engine that actual production was delayed for nearly two years. As with other luxury car buyers of the day, Castle purchased the chassis, engine, and suspension from Duesenberg and then sent the car to a custom coachbuilder.
Anderson says the Duesenberg brothers “created a product that no one else could create,” and that kind of exclusivity came with a hefty price tag. He says a Duesenberg “cost about $7000, when at that time you could buy a Model T for about $450.” Including the coachwork, the price could rise to as much as $13,000. That’s about $189,000 today.
Because Castle stood 7 feet tall and weighed nearly 300 pounds, Bender Body Company of Cleveland had to make accommodations for his large frame, which made the car even more unusual.
“The pedals are very far back. The way it sits, the center of the vehicle is very tall,” Anderson says. “It has a look about it that really distinguishes it from other vehicles, especially other Duesenbergs. It’s a very beautiful vehicle—very understated elegance.
“That sweeping rear with the trunk, the high-level windows, and the unique front of the body … all together, composed as one package … it’s unmistakable. There’s no other body like that.”
The Straight Eight was also the first passenger vehicle with four-wheel hydraulic brakes.
The HVA documentary delves further into Duesenberg’s history beyond the Castle car, telling the story of the automaker’s rise (including E.L. Cord’s involvement and Duesenberg’s best-known model, the Model J and later, the SJ and SSJ) and the company’s eventual fall in 1937.
The Great Depression took its toll, and it’s easy to see why. The automaker was up front about its clientele, which did not include the common man. “Those (people) actually buying these cars would have been politicians, royalty—kings, queens, princesses, princes—(and) some of the more higher-paid Hollywood elite,” says Sam Grate, curator at the Auburn Cord Duesenberg Automobile Museum. “Duesenbergs weren’t built for the 1 percent, they were built for the .1 percent.”
Samuel Northrup Castle died of a heart ailment on February 10, 1959, four days after his 79th birthday. Ownership of the Duesenberg Straight Eight was transferred to Castle’s nephew James Christian Castle, and when James died in 1994, the car went to his son, James Jr. (Jimmy), and his wife CyrAnn. By then, it had been placed in storage and was no longer driven.
CyrAnn Castle, an experience equestrian, discovered it in a barn while riding on the family property, although she didn’t know what “it” was.
“Is that a tractor all covered up in there?” she asked Jimmy.
“No, it’s the family Duesenberg.”
CyrAnn immediately answered, “That has to come out of there.
Beginning in 2010, the car underwent a five-year, 10,000-hour body-off restoration to return it to its former glory, a meticulous process that included the use of period-correct tools and processes. It retains most of its original components. “Every part of the process was really well thought out,” Anderson says. “This was not just a restoration to bring it up to current standards, this was a preservation project and restoration project to bring it back to its delivery to Mr. Castle.”
The tedious work paid off, Anderson says. “If you take that vehicle and you marry it to the original 1921 photo, they are identical. It looks like it just walked out of that photo.”
After showing the Duesenberg occasionally over several years, the Castle family decided to donate the car to the Auburn Cord Duesenberg Automobile Museum, where it could be enjoyed by the public.
“There are so many things I love about the car,” Anderson says. “I think it’s what it represents—it’s a family legacy. And being able to tell that story … I’m honored, I’m blessed, because it is so significant.”
Says Grate, “The car left a legacy of telling what a car could be. You could aspire to have the biggest, the greatest, and the fastest … Not only do you have something that’s long and fast and powerful, but you have something that can be elegantly styled—(look) beautiful down the road. Even today, people are inspired by the look and design of Duesenbergs.”
Source: Hagerty
Mona outside enjoying our first heavy snow of the year ^^
We're supposed to get a hefty amount of snow tonight (my classes were even cancelled today ^^) so it looks like we'll have a white Thanksgiving XD; I hope everyone who celebrates has a great turkey day, and for those who don't, well have a good day anyway XD <3
I was thumbing through the William Price "Western Maryland Steam Album" book with the intent of gaining some day dreaming time, instead I found myself pondering what it would be like to stand on Helmstetters curve when a big 4-8-4 Potomac class came up the grade. Most of my journey through railroad history (and my photo descriptions as a result) tend to lean into a yearn to see railroads in their glory years. This photo then popped into my mind. After being in service for 2 years, I just started shooting the 2102 at Reading and Northern that summer and fall. I did 3 outings to see the thing and enjoyed all of them. The 2102 is big enough to produce power, but not powerful enough to have a seamless run with whatever train you throw at it. The T-1s were built in house by the Reading company using some select parts recycled from other engines. Some call them "rebuilds" because of this. The T-1s were some of the biggest and baddest engines on the Reading minus the light mallets the road rostered. At the end of steam, 5 survived into Reading Rambles excursion service (with one being scrapped for parts during this time period before 1964). Since then they lived on in various states at various places. 2102 runs up the former Reading trackage into the anthracite region and over the former CNJ branch from Haucks to Jim Thorpe in the present day. The run has various grades, bridges, tunnels, and obstacles. North of Tamaqua the trackage starts a hefty climb up to Hometown where it crests downhill to Jim Thorpe. At mile marker 99, at the searchlights installed within the past 10 years, the train's dig into the grade has already begun. You can hear the beating on the rails from lightyears away, it becomes oh so closely sounding but continues to trick the mind. The bellless crossing next to the signals activates. Lights stream around the corner. Then the sounds, A long, a long, "OSJT, Clear signal, 99", a short, a long. The engine, shooting smoke at high velocity out the stack, thunders at the trees and removes their leaves. The approach lit SB signal lights up, rails squeel, the bridge takes on the weight of the engine... you can no longer hear anything... A static takes hold as the exhaust has produced enough sound to pierce your ears. Its loud but silent, the camera clicks away without a detectable sound. Decibels rise, you cannot hear yourself think. You take the camera down and get the friendly wave, they have ear plugs! The shrill passes and then slowly fades. The rail squeals as the clickety clacks fade back in like a studio mix on a 60s hippy song. Marker lights on the rear observation car conclude the show. The crossing lights conclude their flashing, the railfans scurry back to their cars and leave in a hurry, the signal goes back to darkness. Peace has returned to the Schuylkill Valley.
Spray from the hefty waves is blowing into the park and freezing on all surfaces it lands on. I'll have to take my cleats with me tomorrow. 16F with winds 15-20mph made for an unpleasant outing. Fortunately I wasn't out long enough to get frostbite.
During my time in Cherokee,N.C. I was taken to this spot far into the woods and an hefty climb up the trail to reach this spot. You could hear the roar of the Falls from far below this spot. The noise added to my anticipation to reach the Falls and my photos made the hike worth the while.
I knew our Henrik (AKA Hank) was a hefty fellow but I never realized just how big he was until I went into our local pet shop today and met Gemma, the sweetest little kitten imaginable. It turn out Gemma was the same age as our Hank, both turning 1 year next month, and when I commented on how tiny she was they said she wasn't really that small and was the same size as Handsome, the little black kitten who was the same age. Both were about 1/3 the size of our bruiser. Guess some are just over achievers.
The CN has alot of locals in the Stevens Point/Wisconsin Rapids area and many have sets of SD60's assigned to them. The Wisconsin Rapids to Wausau turn job was high on my list of things to do. This job carries traffic to and from Wisconsin Rapids to interchange with the new FOXY Railroad in Wausau. Also the job handles company rock cars in and out of Mosinee. With 94 cars from the FOXY RR and 25 loads of ballast out of Mosinee, the job slowly makes their way back to Rapids. Here they cross the Wisconsin River on a beautiful Friday evening with a hefty train.
The Butler to Manly job creeps through Greene as they make their way north on the Manly Sub. The hefty train has cars for the CPKC at Nora Springs and a lot of cars for Manly. Guess the Manly elevator is on a loading rampage and keeping this end of the railroad busy. Most of the power sets right now have slugs in them, but this 4 Geep set has been together now for a bit touring the railroad. It's a nice change.
Great Dismal Swamp, VA.
The Swainson's Warbler (Limnothlypis swainsonii) is an inhabitant of southern swamps and forested ravines. They tend to remain frustratingly hidden in the understory. This brownish songbird isn’t as brilliantly colored as other warblers, but males have a subtle chestnut tone in the crown and sometimes a lemon-yellow wash below. The species forages mostly in dense vegetation on or near the ground, where it uses its hefty bill to turn over leaves in search of insects and spiders.
MEC 508 leads the 602 and 600 west through CPF 196 toward Rigby with a hefty train in tow. the 602 is no longer in service and in the deadline at Waterville.
On reflection, maybe I laughed a little bit too loudly. But by now I was probably bordering on delirium. I hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours and I’d just come down from the summit on a wave of jubilation mixed with exhaustion. What I really needed was to fend off yet another barrage of feverish sales pitches. I can’t tell you exactly how many times over the last few hours I’d declined offers of camel rides. Or how often I’d turned down the opportunity to buy a fragment of the mountain I’d just stood on top of. Earlier, as we’d queued up to open our backpacks for inspection and walk through an airport style metal detector that was presumably here to make sure none of us was about to blow up this famous mountain, we were surrounded by a host of jabbering tribesmen, dementedly waving their wares in our faces and asking prices higher than the invisible peaks that were cloaked in the inky night above us. I didn’t need a headscarf - really I didn’t. I had brought my fleece lined beanie hat. I didn’t need gloves either. Not with a camera to operate at the summit later on. And what were those strange squares of cloth the locals seemed so convinced my life would be incomplete without? Did they think I might have time to stitch a patchwork quilt together while I waited for the sun to come up? Was someone else waiting at the other end of the queue with a basket of reasonably priced needles and thread? As I sat on a slab of flat rock outside the walls of St Katherine’s Monastery, quenching my labours with the last dregs from my water bottle, a voice emerged from the melee, thrown in my direction. “What’s that, a sleeping bag?” The man, a local Bedouin wheeler dealer, had taken an interest in the blue stuff sack at my side.
“No it’s my coat,” I replied. I’d needed that coat up there earlier. It was very cold in the hours leading up to sunrise at the summit. “Look at these!” he went on excitedly, brandishing two matching halves of a lump of quartz. “Very cheap!” I replied politely but firmly that thank you, I wasn’t interested. I could have had any number of rocks from that mountain by now without paying for them. By this stage, having done what I’d come here to do, I just wanted to get on the bus and go to sleep on the long journey back to Sharm el-Sheikh. I'm ashamed to say I'd lost interest in the fabled burning bush and the chapel on the inside of the huge monastery walls. “Ok, how about a trade? You give me that in exchange for them?” he asked, nodding in the direction of the blue stuff sack. It was at this point that I burst out laughing in response. Two lumps of quartz that I didn’t want in a swap deal for my treasured down filled winter coat. I’m not going to tell you how much I paid for that coat. I gave him a vague idea though. “No, not Egyptian pounds! That wouldn’t pay for a cup of coffee.” I asked him if he had a car to throw into the deal. He looked a bit confused at this. I made my escape while I could. It’s a very good coat and even after a hefty sale discount it’s the most expensive garment I’ve ever invested in. I intend to carry on using it each winter until one or the other of us expires.
I’m not keen on people who try to sell me things. Beyond a nod and a brief exchange of greetings, human interaction really isn't my thing you see. If a sales assistant spots me browsing in a shop and asks whether they can help, my usual response is to run for the exits. And when, as they do in Egypt, the salesman regards bartering as a way of life, I’m at even more of a disadvantage. Here, where tourists have to run the gauntlet of traders to make their way onto the mountain trail, it can be a bit scary for people like me. There were plenty of enthusiastic customers around, ready to part with a few dollars for a trinket to take home with them. We don’t like clutter at home. My souvenirs were sitting happily in my memory and saved on an SD card. Once you make it onto the trail, you’re forever trudging up towards the summit of Mount Sinai in the pitch of night, listening for the tell-tale gastric groans of approaching camels, their keepers trying to sell you a ride to the bottom of the last flight to heaven. Suddenly they loom over you in the darkness, inches away, filling the air with their musky ruminant scent as a lugubrious dark eye gazes disinterestedly into the beam of your head torch. Every kilometre brings a pit stop with a covered seating area, plying its trade, offering hot drinks and snacks for the weary traveller. Even the hole in the ground “facilities” have a callow youth stationed by the entrance, relieving visitors of one US dollar before the visitors can relieve themselves. Finally, after the penultimate section of the climb, a kilometre long flight of six hundred and fifty steps to a small plateau just beneath the summit, there are four or five of these small coffee stops huddled together, one or two of them selling genuine Mount Sinai rocks. Why not add a few extra pounds to your bag for the hike back down to the monastery? Why not just pick up a rock from the ground? Only at the end of another hundred steps do you finally escape the din of commerce. Here at the summit is where everyone is lost for words.
Ali had already made it clear that she had no intention of joining me on this trip. She dislikes pressure selling just as much as I do, and unlike myself she had previous experience of this weird and wonderful old country. In the early nineties, long before I met her; when she was just a slip of a girl, a Luxor trader offered one hundred camels in exchange for her. Luckily for me the bid was turned down. One hundred belching, hungry flatulent camels. What on earth would anyone do with one hundred camels? Open the world's most challenging petting zoo? Lead a party of thirsty thrill seekers across the Sahara Desert? Train the fastest ones and enter them into the Cheltenham Gold Camel Cup? The mind boggles.
I’ll never regret getting on that bus and making the long journey into the mountains of the Sinai Desert. It’s a memory I’ll cherish. But in so many ways it wasn’t an easy ride. Even without climbing onto the back of a camel. Of course the hard sell is how these people earn a modest living. But there are plenty of far more willing customers than this one. When I returned to Sharm el-Sheikh and into the arms of the subject of that one hundred camel bid, I described the trip as fourteen hours of purgatory for forty-five minutes of raw landscape mountain morning magic, and that’s how I’ll always remember it. The highlight of the holiday amid the depths of the toughest hours, of which I spent almost nine squashed onto a cramped coach. I’d survived the gauntlet and now I could quietly celebrate and look back on the adventure through a pair of rose tinted spectacles that I didn’t buy from a Bedouin tribesman. Back on the slumbering sunbeds with a good book and unfettered access to the first world cocktail menu. Mostly in Egypt my alcohol intake outscored the daily step count, but much like today’s ascent, the graph suddenly went steeply upwards before plunging down to pina colada level once more. Days one to eight, zero steps. Day nine, thirty-two thousand steps. Days ten to fourteen, zero steps. Or something like that anyway. Mind you, even by the pool you have to tell the same man that you don’t want a massage at least twice a day every day. It’s hard work running the gauntlet.
Would like to have had my macro lens with me. Yesterday I set out with the intention of capturing water fowl. I have not shot them for a while, so I only brought my telephoto zoom and not even a tripod.
Well I didn't get much as far as water fowl was concerned, but I did notice this orange red fly pondside. No idea as to what type of fly it is, and it doesn't really matter. This is a hefty crop with barely any reduction, so detail is only so so. It did not stick around long, only enough for two shots, so who knows, with a macro lens I would have moved in closer and possibly would have got no shots. For now, I am quite happy with it as I have never seen anything like it before.
Large tanager with a hefty bill. Adult males are completely red; immature males are dull yellow-olive with blotchy patches of red. Females are variable in color, ranging from pale dull yellow to brighter orange. Can be confused with female Scarlet Tanager; Summer has a longer, paler bill and less contrast between wing and body color. Also compare with dustier-looking, stouter-billed Hepatic Tanager. Breeds in mature forests, favoring mixed deciduous and pine in the southeastern U.S. and riparian corridors in the western U.S. and northern Mexico. Extensive winter range from Mexico to Bolivia, where it can be found in any wooded area. Often gives a short, descending rattle “pit-a-tuck.”
15th June 2017 - McDonnell Douglas F-4E Phantom II '01512' of the Hellenic Air Force's 338 Squadron taxi's back after a sortie.
You can see the spotters enclosure in the background. Every congratulations must be extended to all the pilots based at Florennes, as it was them that organised the spotters day in their own time and after their hefty workload as participants and hosts of the 2 week exercise..
Illinois Terminal Class D locomotive 74 at Peoria in 1950. These hefty 8-axle locomotives were home-built at the Decatur Shops starting at the beginning of World War II. A total of five were built, constructed by rebuilding some earlier Type C locos. They were the road's largest freight engines. This photo gives a particularly good view of the articulated frame.
B&W print in my collection, photographer unknown.
Not the greatest barnie shot you'll ever see as it was taken in poor light, there's too much noise due to the high ISO and it's a hefty crop. Nevertheless I just liked the owl in its setting and the overall mood of the image.
Large tanager with a hefty bill. Adult males are completely red; immature males are dull yellow-olive with blotchy patches of red. Females are variable in color, ranging from pale dull yellow to brighter orange. Can be confused with female Scarlet Tanager; Summer has a longer, paler bill and less contrast between wing and body color. Also compare with dustier-looking, stouter-billed Hepatic Tanager. Breeds in mature forests, favoring mixed deciduous and pine in the southeastern U.S. and riparian corridors in the western U.S. and northern Mexico. Extensive winter range from Mexico to Bolivia, where it can be found in any wooded area. Often gives a short, descending rattle “pit-a-tuck.”
Alaska Railroad SD70MACs 4006 and 4014, both Altoona graduates, wheel a hefty southbound freight in full sun at approximately 9:30pm. The green building is the ARR's Nenana depot, complete with train order signals. It is one of three still standing.
* Disclaimer: This is a somewhat tight location, so this camera was on the tripod in unmanned mode; I was not actually standing that close to the track.
For me, this was the shot of the day.
The whole place was stiff with freshly-graduated graduates and their families arriving in waves to get photo-ops for their beloved brainy youngsters in graduation gowns.
This wee bird, oblivious to all such artifice, was doing his sparrow-thing, picking up scraps here and there and flitting to and fro from the old slip - pictured here - and some creels behind me.. Who doesn't love House Sparrows? They've given me free micro-entertainment for many years. And some decent pix too.
This one doesn't bear too close examination so better not to pixel-peep it. The camera hadn't run enough frames to plot its inward track with accuracy so the bird's face and bill were in need of hefty OOF plastic surgery.
Despite it not officially being Winter yet, Winter is here. A hefty 20+cm of snow fell this past weekend in Regina and much of Saskatchewan. I wonder how many harsh winters the lead unit on this 602, KCSM 4657 has dealt with over the years? In the background is another unit of KCS Heritage, GMTX 196 has been leased to EVRAZ for several years now.
It's been a while since I last added a camera to my collection, in fact I'm in the process of trying to downsize it, but I just couldn't pass this reasonably priced little Flexilette, a camera that had caught my eye several times in the past.
It is a rather unique camera in a sense that it's a TLR using 135 film. Only a handful other cameras by other brands used a similar approach, the pre-war Contaflex being the iconic model for this type of camera.
The Flexilette is a fully mechanical, all-manual, meterless camera the taking lens being a 2.8/45 Color-Apotar which according to online sources is a coated triplet. This fact alone puts the Flexilette in consumer / amateur enthusiast territory, although german triplets often produce stunning results, I for one am very pleased with the Triotar on my Rollei 35B.
The camera sports a waist-level finder which is not very big, but it's quite bright, definitely better than the finder of the Praktica VLC or the EXA-1 from behind the Iron Curtain. Focusing is aided by a retractable magnifying glass and a split-image rangefinder on the focusing screen. The finder is not interchangeable with a prism, so if one wants to shoot with the camera at eye level, they have to compose through a sports finder of sorts that is formed when the WLF flaps are deployed. Take care not to loose the small knob that releases the finder shaft, as it can be easily unscrewed during cleaning or carrying the camera in a bag.
Size-wise, the camera stands in a grey zone between a compact 35mm camera and a small SLR and it feels quite hefty with the lens protruding only a couple of centimeters, the shutter speed and aperture rings being quite narrow but easily accessible and moveable without feeling crowded.
The frame counter is manually reset and counts backwards from 36 as the frames are exposed.
My camera came in exceptional cosmetic and functional condition, along with the peculiar dedicated slip-on lens hood (it's the circular contraption visible on the right) and the close-up attachment of similar configuration which brings minimum focus distance from 0,6m to 0,38m, but sadly without a leather case. Build quality is good, but definitely not up there with Voigtlander or even Zeiss-Ikon. While some parts feel very solid, others feel like cutting production cost was a high priority in the minds of Agfa engineers. Overall operation of the camera feels quite smooth though, the leaf shutter (1s - 1/500s) is really quite and the focusing ring still turns very smoothly.
Overall, an interesting concept camera which wasn't a commercial success, although Flexilettes are not that difficult to find on the german auction site.
At 1420hrs on November 18, 1996, a 77-car PODH rolls slowly into Ayer behind a hefty lashup of MEC #601, B&M #692, B&M #690, and MEC #371.
The Hamilton turn heads back to Queensgate with a pair of 80's spartan cabs and a rather hefty train. The NS has its share of grade, so the conversation was brought up by the LA Dispatcher before they departed. "You guy's have enough power to make the NS?" The crew replies "Yeah, we should.. If it works." Even with a handbrake mid train, the ole gals got the job done without a hiccup.
This photo was taken just under two years ago, but I've only just managed to get it developed and scanned. It was shot on a borrowed Pentax 6x7, with a 105mm lens, and medium format film. I fell instantly in love with that camera, despite the hefty cost of each individual photograph.
More like this on the way.
We had a hefty snowstorm in two iterations a week ago. This series was taken in the second day of snowfall. About the only time I see these is when there's a fair amount of snow on the ground.
Huge coucal with a hefty bill. The head often looks black, but can show a blue sheen. Found close to water in marshes, swamps, and wet scrub. Fairly skulking, though occasionally seen in the open. Massive size is obvious in flight. The call is a slow, deep version of the typical coucal descending and accelerating series of “boop” notes. Very similar to Coppery-tailed Coucal, but there is virtually no overlap in range, and Blue-headed is smaller, with a blue sheen to the head. Similar coloration to Senegal Coucal, but much larger. (eBird)
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Like many cuckoos, Coucals are shy and can be hard to find although they are easily heard. i got lucky with this one as I was partially hidden behind some shrubs. When I moved to get a better shot, he was gone.
Sagyimase, Ghana. March 2019.
Ashanti African Tours.
indulge me, friends.
here are my little fatties, bacchus (the mildy vigilant one) and kali (the snoozing one). pure american mutts, like myself. theyve got a few dna snips of boxer, pit, and lab in them. a tender 9 weeks old now, they doodle around the yard, shite wherever their bowels whim, and howl like damned when you leave their line of sight. i love em. their father weighed in at a hefty 174 lbs and an uncle pulled 240 lbs. they will be big dogs one day. theyve figured out the art of the sit, they get come (mostly), and they squirm like happiness when you come thru door. bacchus is the more contemplative one. he's got soulful eyes and takes his time (except with the dinner bowl), kali - which means among other things, She Who is Black or The Devourer of Time, is a step more intrepid. she's the smarter one of the pair, and though he has a few pounds on her, she consistently figures some new judo to toss him over for a gnawing.
anyways, im blathering. i just wanted to share our new dogs. forgive me for the unforgiveable sin of puppy posting.
cheers all.
OSR 383 an ex. SOO Line GP7 and F unit company charge through Belmont Ontario with a hefty train for Messenger Freight and CN in St. Thomas.
01/02/2020
OSR St. Thomas Job
OSR 383 / OSR 1401
Belmont ON.
CP / OSR St. Thomas Sub
The CP's Kansas City Sub crosses over three trestles spanning the rolling hills of southeastern Monroe County. Two of the trestles are located at a point known as Foster, a few miles east of Moravia. The middle trestle was built somewhere around 1938 over Soap Creek and is 965 feet long. Here the southbound The St. Paul, MN, to Shreveport, LA, manifest train rolls over the bridge with a hefty locomotive consist of 7 units in the light rain.
Two weeks after the last picture was taken, I'm held at the same place (behind the ranch crossing) and I step off the lead unit, SD40-2 7107, on my 13Y88 coal train to observe the eastbound freight #74 (Seattle to KC I believe) as it runs through the siding around us, with a hefty power set of U30c, SD40-2, U33c in the lead (5810-7110-5759.) Yes, it's in the siding. On the Alliance Division at that time, most of the 112lb. jointed rail was still in place on the main, while new, rebuilt or extended sidings got the heavier welded rail before the mainline was re-laid. The frustration of having a freight with good power was that you often just puddled along behind a fleet of coal trains. Today the dispatcher has found a way to weave the freight around the coal trains, possible because this is one train that can "solo the Hill", meaning it won't need helpers to surmount the 1.55% grade from Crawford to Belmont. That's one less train on his or her sheet and out of the way.