View allAll Photos Tagged Improbable
Rencontre improbable entre un chardonneret élégant et un verdier.
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Unlikely encounter between an elegant goldfinch and a greenfinch.
El 14-24mm ya no daba más de sí tras abrir la focal hasta el máximo. La distorsión geométrica amenazaba con ser poco menos que insoportable. Las luces fluorescentes de la parada de autobuses torpedeaban cualquier intento de equilibrar la luminosidad de la composición. La luna llena no acababa de decidirse a aparecer por detrás de la torre Bankia. Tan solo el obelisco y el arbolito sobre mi cabeza se comportaban de forma parecida a lo que yo pedía.
Y todo ello sumado, que no era poca suma, me auguraba, casi me prometía un resultado final de máximo riesgo, por no decir un poco menos que seguro fracaso.
Pero decía el inmortal maestro que si de cada cien fotografías podíamos aprovechar noventa, es que no habíamos arriesgado lo suficiente.
Y yo quería meter en mi encuadre todos los elementos que aparecen en la composición. Y estaba obsesionado por saber cómo podría quedar una composición que distorsionase aún más las dos torres Kio, ya de por sí naturalmente distorsionadas.
Me empeñé casi con tozudez, por no decir con cabezonería, en moverme hacia atrás y hacia adelante más de diez veces, hasta que me pareció que en el encuadre estaba incluido todo lo que yo quería que estuviese.
Me senté en un banco junto al trípode para analizar el lugar, la perspectiva y mi propia actitud, porque me resultaba novedosa.
Y finalmente recuerdo haber dado un pisotón en el suelo, y después una palmada que hizo volver la cabeza a una pobre turista oriental a la que, cerca de la una de la madrugada, naturalmente asusté.
Y me levanté, me acerqué decidido al trípode, tomé el disparador, repasé los parámetros de cámara e hice tres tomas, a f/5,6, f/8 y f/9 respectivamente, pero desde el mismo lugar.
Cuando vi en el ordenador lo que había resultado, supe que una de esas tres imágenes estaría en mi galería.
No porque fuesen buenas, sino porque eran exactamente lo que quise hacer.
Música recomendada: "Go Your Own Way". Fleetwood Mac.
What? Another diptych already? Sorry, but sometimes it seems an effective way of illustrating a story. One of my favorite things about living here is spotting wildflowers which improbably emerge from a sea of green, as shown here with these tiny and delicate, long-stemmed beauties providing a subtle but effective accent of pink to an otherwise monochromatic scene. I'm not positive but I think they are a member of the sweet pea family (Lathyrus odoratus), relatively common and pleasingly variable in color.
Excerpt from the plaque:
Reverie by P. Roch Smith:
Two mirrored figures in bronze, one with wings, face each other at the edge of planks. They regard each other and wonder how they might navigate their divide.
“The image of a mirrored figure came to me in a day dream; two figures appearing face to face in an improbable situation and on an improbable scale. The fantastical notion of being able to sprout wings and fly away has a certain appeal.”
"I am and always will be the optimist. The hoper of far-flung hopes and the dreamer of improbable dreams."
- the Eleventh Doctor
#MacroMondays
#Tiny
#BlingMonday:)
They are an improbable couple, indeed, but these two items came to my mind instantly when I read "Tiny". The (broken) screw is from a modding set I bought for one of my Casios, and the tip of the screw is still stuck in the watch's casing (I have no idea how to remove something so tiny) so the bezel is now fixated with three screws only but so what, it sits absolutely secure on the watch.
The screw is 0,4 mm/0,15 inches "tall", and the screw and the Swarovski crystal together are 0,6 mm/0,23 inches wide. I've used these crystals (that I got loose and in different sizes – this is the smallest size: 3,5 mm/0,13 inches in diameter) in a few other MM themes because they are so nice and shiny, and because it's Monday, I thought I'd add some extra bling with the star filter.
I'd have loved to stack the screw and the crystal but there was no way I could fixate the crystal on top of the screw because even the tiniest piece of modeling clay would still have been too big for the scene. I did some focus stacking with the 60mm macro but in the end, I liked the single image taken with the Laowa 2x macro better because it looked more organic (although I admit it could be a little sharper) and I was also able to get much closer to the scene with this lens. It's not quite the lens's maximum magnification of 2:1 but almost.
And actually, it's "The Odd Couple II" because I'd already photographed a pair of matches under that title for our "Matchstick" theme in June '21. But since the original movie with Walter Matthau and Jack Lemon from 1968 was also made into a TV show in the 1970s, and then again in the 2010s, with several episodes, why not name more than one photo after it ;)
HMM, Everyone!
Coastal Humboldt County, California, a land of fog, evergreens, and improbable prairies.
I find the vibrant greens offset by the somber grays to be quite beautiful. I also love the desolation of the place.
The improbably looking Keel-billed Toucan, a regular at our lodge in the Caribbean lowlands of Costa Rica. Although their numbers are declining slightly, partially due to exotic pet trade, they are considered to be a species of Least Concern.
All of them
Dreaming strange inventions in the shade
30 mile an hour domestic winds
Blow away my nice domestic things
The ground is full of improbable vegetations
Black and heavy branches cut the sky
Mechanisms work behind my eyes
What a mystery
That I could want you still
It's a mystery
That I would pick you ten out of nine times
The water's cold
All the red fish leave my feet alone
Crush of people walk along the street
The perfume they wear smells good to me
And what a mystery
That I could want you still
It's a mystery
That I would pick you ten out of nine times
A curling staircase entwines its own reflections, at the Telus Garden building in Vancouver. (Credit for this interesting design goes to Henriquez Partners Architects.)
This street artist, named Bordalo II, uses wastes to build improbable bas-reliefs …
This one was posted on a Paris' street …
Precisely rue du Chevaleret.
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Ce street artiste, nommé Bordalo II, utilise des déchets pour construire d'improbables bas-reliefs...
Celui-ci est accroché dans une rue de Paris…
Précisément rue du Chevaleret dans le XIIIe arrondissement.
.
The ghost runner
Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too.
They live inside us,
and sometimes... they win.
Stephen King
.
©annedhuart
Vespa VS Fiat 500 Vert pomme. Le hasard de la photo, si c'est pas de la chance :) Quelle est la probabilité pour qu'une Fiat 500 de la même couleur passe au moment où je prends la photo et sans la voir ! surtout avec une couleur si spéciale.
SPNC Y3 #22 - Reveal improbable moments and attitudes; penetrate the soul of the street by choice framing harmonious and balanced - Laurent Roch
Iceland is mostly uninhabited. Larger than the island of Ireland, a population of just under 400,000 lives mainly around the coastal areas where fishing, and more recently, tourism, are the main sources of income. Iceland was not inhabited at all until the 9th century CE - it is the last land in Europe to be colonised.
Iceland is intensely geologically active, with numerous volcanoes and frequent earthquakes, mostly very minor. Much of the landscapes consist of vast lava fields, some of which have a thin covering of moss or grasses. Trees are few and far between; I suspect those around the buildings in the picture were planted to provide some protection against the winds. With the sun out, it's a beautiful place!
This tree sprang out of a tiny trapped pocket of dirt on the face of this red rock cliff in NW New Mexico. I have been visiting this little tree for many years, wishing it well...
Non importa quanto sofisticate siano le nostre scelte, o quanto bravi siano a dominare le probabilità: il caso avrà comunque l’ultima parola. Nicholas Nassim Taleb
Questa foto, come tante delle mie, del resto, è frutto della casualità. Stavo correndo lungo la strada del Cansiglio per cercare di appostarmi per l'alba. Improvvisamente mi taglia la strada un leprotto, spuntato da chissà dove, che inizia a saettare a zig-zag per alcuni metri, prima di perdersi nuovamente nell'erba. Io freno istintivamente per non investirlo... a quel punto la macchina era quasi ferma. Cerco di seguire con lo sguardo la lepre, e in quel momento noto il magnifico strato di nebbia bassa... come una coperta avvolgeva il terreno. Era proprio il caso... di fare una foto :)
Buona giornata
Scatto a mano libera, Canon EF24-105L IS UMS e EOS 6D.
Piano mécanique et personnages "belle époque" pour se prendre en photo. Un des nombreux "tableaux" possibles dans tout le musée cette année.
Théâtre du Merveilleux, Musée des Arts Forains
(English follow)
MARÉE BASSE
Jeune astronome amateur, j’aimais porter le regard dans le ciel étoilé, en me fondant dans l’infini, dans le grand Tout. J’y ressentais un sentiment d’éternité et d’immuabilité qui me dépassait. Je pouvais certes comprendre ce que j’observais dans les termes de l’astronomie ou de la cosmologie. Mais cela demeurait une réalité intellectuelle qui ne me permettait pas de traduire ce que je ressentais dans mon corps. L’imaginaire prenait alors le relais en imaginant des mondes improbables et des odyssées fantastiques où tous les commencements et toutes les destinées se rencontraient. Rêveries chimériques.
Puis, un jour, j’ai tourné mon regard vers le sol de ma planète et vers les vivants qui m’entourent. J’ai alors perçu les odeurs, les textures et les chants de la Terre, les battements de la vie, sa fragilité et les inextricables liens qui m’unissent à la destinée de ma planète. Ces vérités primordiales, je les ressentais dans mon corps et dans mon esprit. Comme ce jour où, sur un rivage réputé pour l’ampleur de ses marées, un océan de petits galets miroitants de toutes les couleurs apparut à mes pieds à marée basse. Ils évoquaient dans mon esprit une « galaxie » de petits mondes brillant d’une beauté indicible dans la nuit éternelle de l'espace.
Mais cette fois, cette galaxie était mon habitat, ici et maintenant, et celui de bien d’autres formes de vies dont je ressentais les pulsions et la fragilité. J’ai alors compris que, si une Odyssée fantastique devait avoir lieu, elle se déroulerait ici sur Terre, dans les méandres de l’âme humaine. On la surnommerait l’Odyssée vitale, et elle consisterait à inventer un nouvel art d’habiter notre monde vivant.
Patrice
Note: Cette Odyssée vitale est déjà écrite… Voir la couverture de mon livre du même nom dans les images récentes publiés sur ma page Flickr. Ce livre numérique est gratuit.
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LOW TIDE
As a young amateur astronomer, I loved gazing into the starry sky, merging into infinity, into the great All. There, I felt a sense of eternity and immutability that was beyond me. I could certainly understand what I was observing in terms of astronomy or cosmology. But it remained an intellectual reality that didn't allow me to translate what I felt in my body. My imagination then took over, imagining improbable worlds and fantastic odysseys where all beginnings and all destinies met—chimerical reveries.
Then, one day, I turned my gaze to the ground of my planet and to the living beings around me. I perceived the smells, textures, and songs of the Earth, the pulse of life, its fragility, and the inextricable bonds that unite me to the destiny of my planet. I felt these primordial truths in my body and in my mind. Like the day when, on a shore renowned for the magnitude of its tides, an ocean of small, shimmering pebbles of every color appeared at my feet at low tide. They evoked in my mind a "galaxy" of tiny worlds shining with indescribable beauty in the eternal night of space.
But this time, this galaxy was my habitat, here and now, and that of many other life forms whose impulses and fragility I felt. I understood then that, if a fantastic Odyssey were to take place, it would unfold here on Earth, in the meanders of the human soul. It would be called the Vital Odyssey, and it would consist of inventing a new art of inhabiting our living world.
Patrice
Note : This Vital Odyssey has already been written… See the cover of my book of the same name in the recent images published on my Flickr page. This digital book is free.
“So many of our dreams at first seem impossible, then they seem improbable, and then, when we summon the will, they soon become inevitable.”—Christopher Reeve
[The Forge] Kayumi BodySuit, {The Forge] Elysium Arm.
The most improbable leader possible evaded getting it's oil issue rectified yet again, and spewed it all the way from Riker to Bradford that day.
Of course Honey doesn't drink beer she's more of a plain water girl but she'll pose nicely for a doggy treat.
#51/124 Improbable: 124 pictures in 2024
The improbably named Lower Slaughter is quite simply one of the prettiest villages that I have come across. With its beautiful Cotswold stone cottages, its shallow river and low footbridges it reminds me of Bourton on the Water, which lies just over a mile away. The River Eye (seen here) feeds into the River Windrush to the south of Bourton on the Water. This then flows through Oxfordshire and eventually joins the River Thames. The small bridge, known as Up Stream Bridge, is Grade II-listed and thought to date from the 1700s or 1800s.
From two of my photos....transformed into a 2 dimensional image of an improbable event...
All rights reserved. This photo is not authorized for use on your blogs, pin boards, websites or use in any other way. You may NOT download this image without written permission from iSEEthings, Jeff Fornear.
In a country full of spectacular waterfalls, and despite the obvious drawback in that one can never expect to experience this place alone, Skógafoss has been the one to set my pulses on red alert each time I’ve visited. Ok, so that’s only twice - well three times if you count the very brief pit stop we made here on the long journey east to Stafafell - but the mere sight of it makes for a display of extraordinary power. Not only in terms of the improbable physics that are happening right there in front of you, but also in the hold that it will take on your senses as you stand here at the bottom. Sixty metres tall and twenty-five wide, this is where the highlands end abruptly as that huge curtain of water crosses the divide and plummets down to earth in a resounding crescendo right there in front of you. There are bigger waterfalls in Iceland, but you can’t stand underneath many of them like this. And this one has such pleasing dimensions, that clean and uncomplicated single drop perfectly proportioned and surrounded by clouds of vapour that make you wonder whether you should have brought some shower gel and a bath towel. And a thermos full of piping hot coffee to help with the hypothermia afterwards.
We’d come here after breakfast on our third morning in the area, having agreed that the misty grey conditions would suit the subject well. Ironic that when we’d passed through here a week earlier, there had been a bright rainbow right in front of Skógafoss. There had also been a large number of visitors, taking endless Instaselfies as they tripped from their coaches and raced excitedly towards the action. That day we had to wait for a space in the large car park, such was the popularity of the place. Finding the visitor numbers too distracting, we soon moved on, although perhaps we should have photographed that rainbow and made merry with the clone tool later. At that stage we were getting rather blasé on the subject, having spent the previous day photographing a particularly fine example at Háifoss. But there were no more waterfall rainbows for the rest of the trip, and little did we realise we’d missed our chance.
Arriving in the middle of the morning seemed to have paid off. Although far from empty, the car park was noticeably quieter than last time, and with the aid of that trusty pair of welly boots I was soon paddling about in the shallow river, setting the tripod low to bring that foreground rush of water towards the bottom of the frame. And miraculously in these moments there were chances to get the shot with only minimum numbers of stragglers to contend with. There’s always someone standing as close as they dare to, but I only had to airbrush two spectres from the scene here. Bring your wellies and you can often go to places where others can’t.
Last time we came to Iceland, on that final night before heading back to Reykjavík, I got what became my favourite shot of the trip in the form of “Sandwich Bags, Spray and Spectators,” where I was that person standing as close to the white wall as I dared to. And now, an hour after this, I took my favourite shot of this second adventure with “The Watchers.” Very possibly my two most loved images of all time in fact - from a personal point of view anyway. I’m starting to wonder whether or not it’s a coincidence the place delivers pictures that make me feel this happy. I’m quite content with this one as well for that matter. While Skógafoss keeps giving me moments like these, I’ll carry on coming back for more.
Sandwich Bags, Spray and Spectators: www.flickr.com/photos/126574513@N04/50702613408/in/album-...
The Watchers: www.flickr.com/photos/126574513@N04/52420303660/in/album-...