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A fishing vessel is caught in the reflection of the setting sun in the awesome yellow, orange and deep red sunset in West Vancouver, BC. The golden orb of the sun was just huge at this moment and the sky was literally blood red! I took about 450 photos of the sunsets because the sky and colours were changing so rapidly!! Lol!! I was very lucky on this single evening to get these amazing shots; have never had this experience before, even when living in the area years ago.
Taken straigth from the camera, no editing other than a slight crop.
I tried so hard
and got so far
but in the end
it doesn't even matter
I had to fall
to lose it all
but in the end
it doesn't even matter
I've put my trust in you
pushed as far as I can go
and for all this
there's only one thing you should know
I've put my trust in you
pushed as far as I can go
and for all this
there's only one thing you should know
(linking park - ´in the end´)
In the night, I hear 'em talk,
the coldest story ever told
Somewhere far along this road, he lost his soul to a woman so heartless...
How could you be so heartless?
Oh... How could you be so heartless?
How could you be so Dr. Evil, you bringin' out a side of me that I dont know...
I decided we weren't gon' speak so
Why we up 3 A.M. on the phone
Why does she be so mad at me fo'
Homie I dont know, she's hot and cold
I won't stop, won't mess my groove up
'Cause I already know how this thing go
You run and tell your friends that you're leaving me
They say that they don't see what you see in me
You wait a couple months then you gon' see
You'll never find nobody better than me
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
www.youtube.com/watch?v=R4U7iBb35w4
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TaKen By ~ Jreeh-QtR
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He stood on the edge of the world, a lone figure suspended between sky and stone. Before him sprawled New Zealand's Southern Alps, their peaks — Poseidon, Sarpedon, Amphion — rising like silent arguments carved from light and ice. The glacier unfurled its pale tongue, an ancient current arrested mid-sentence, its surface rippled with the memory of motion. The air shimmered, crystalline and unrepentant, a cold clarity that cut to the marrow.
Lake Agnes lay below, a still pool, dark and sharp as polished obsidian. It absorbed the landscape without a ripple, the reflection a perfect inversion—mountains upside down, the sky swallowed by earth. The scene was a paradox: immensity caught in a whisper, time paused on the brink of collapse. He felt the grass brittle beneath his boots, the wind threading through the crevices of his jacket—a touch neither warm nor cruel, merely indifferent.
For three days he had wrestled through the entrails of the land. The rainforest had closed around him with a suffocating lushness, roots coiling like serpents beneath the moss. Streams foamed with a glacial bite, the waters quick and thoughtless, bruising his ankles as he waded through. Thorned thickets tore at his skin with the intimacy of old grudges. He climbed slopes slick with rain, his body folded into painful angles, the horizon always receding. When he reached this place, the fog had been thick enough to erase the contours of the world. His tent had trembled in the night winds, the cold seeping in like an unwelcome thought.
But then dawn came, unburdened and lucid. The veil lifted, and the mountains revealed themselves in their raw articulation. They did not posture or proclaim—they simply were, immutable and unscripted. The glacier’s silence was more profound than any roar; the peaks did not loom so much as exist beyond scale.
Here, in this distilled emptiness, the trivial machinery of the world he had fled seemed absurd. The restless striving, the ceaseless revolutions of ambition and vanity—all of it shrank to the size of a pebble lost in a chasm. There was no wheel here to turn, no circuit to complete. Only the landscape, bare and relentless in its honesty.
He filled his lungs, the air sharp enough to taste. It was an act of quiet rebellion, this deliberate witnessing. In that breath, he found not freedom, but a dissolution of need. The lines between man and mountain wavered, softened by the sheer scale of indifference. If he stayed long enough, perhaps he too would become part of this tableau—his form dissolving into lichen and shadow, his presence no more than a pause in the wilderness’s endless thought.
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To explore more of these captured moments and woven words, visit the artist and writer at their sanctuary of creation: www.coronaviking.com
In Billinge yesterday morning.If ever a shot tells you you don't have to travel far to get good shots this is the one.....................5 minutes from my house...............,but in the right conditions............. ;)
Thanks for looking (if you do,most have my contacts seem to have disappeared....).lol
Chris.
Looks good on black :)
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flander's fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, tho poppies grow
In Flander's fields.
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army
Even in heavy snow the deer in the Hirschgarten in Munich keep waiting at the fence hoping for some food.
Taizō-in (退蔵院?) is the oldest sub-temple (tatchū (塔頭?)) of the Myōshin-ji Rinzai Zen Buddhist temple, situated in the northwest of Kyoto, Japan. It was founded by Zen priest Muinsoin in 1404. The original temple buildings were burned during the Ōnin War (1467-1477), and were later rebuilt.
Taizō-in is well known for its two gardens. The main garden, Motonobu-no-niwa, is a traditional Japanese dry landscape garden (karesansui), containing several angular rocks suggesting the cliffs of the island of Hōrai, with smaller stones suggesting a stream. The planting is mostly evergreen, including camellia, pine, and Japanese umbrella pine. It covers 50 tsubo (170 m²) and was designed to integrate a borrowing of scenery ("shakkei") of a view of Narabigaoka Hill in the distance. It is thought to be the final work of Muromachi painter Kanō Motonobu (狩野 元信), reproducing one of his paintings in three dimensions.
A new pond garden, or yoko-en, was designed by Kinsaku Nakane in 1963-1966. The new garden is large enough for visitors to walk in, and contains azaleas and a stream that cascades along the main axis, directly toward the main viewing position. The stream flows around rocks, gradually widening until it empties into a pool in front of the viewer. (Wikipedia)
dug up another image from my archives. this was taken during one of my trips to the Philippines. spotted these two bikers (probably exchanging tidbits on how their day went) wonderfully silhouetted against that fiery sky. i just had to capture that moment.
Our lilies that we recently bought are now in full bloom as you can see. What a wonderful choice of flower to add to our lily garden !
This particular lily is Rose Lily Zara, and belongs to the Oriental Pot Lily variety.
( In Explore !! )
"In your room
Where time stands still
Or moves at your will
Will you let the morning come soon
Or will you leave me lying here
In your favourite darkness
Your favourite half-light
Your favourite consciousness
Your favourite slave"
In your Room, Depeche Mode
Le Orme
Aspettando L'Alba
Un suono di chitarra
Un canto nella notte
C'era un fuoco sulla spiaggia aspettando l'alba
La ragazza scalza si specchiò
Tante orme sulla sabbia
Sorrisi sulle labbra
C'era un volto vuoto e spento tra le fiamme bianche
Il ragazzo a lungo lo fissò
Tanti occhi un solo sguardo
Un pensiero silenzioso
C'era al caldo nelle vene in quei corpi tesi
E la luna stava tramontando
Si bagnava sulla riva nel chiarore incerto
E il suo corpo libero donò
Un gran vento al mattino si infuriò col sole
Rovesciando il mare sulla spiaggia.
Skiing with Sally Ashe & Cinnamon Toast.
Too hot to handle!
#mood for Winter:
I'm driving home for Christmas
Oh, I can't wait to see those faces
I'm driving home for Christmas, yea
Well I'm moving down that line
And it's been so long
But I will be there
I sing this song
To pass the time away
Driving in my car
Driving home for Christmas
It's gonna take some time
But I'll get there
Top to toe in tailbacks
Oh, I got red lights on the run
But soon there'll be a freeway yeah
Get my feet on holy ground
So I sing for you
Though you can't hear me
When I get through
And feel you near me
Driving in my car
I'm driving home for Christmas
Driving home for Christmas
With a thousand memories
I take a look at the driver next to me
He's just the same
Just the same
Top to toe in tailbacks
Oh, I got red lights all around, uh
I'm driving home for Christmas, yeah
Get my feet on holy ground
So I sing for you
Though you can't hear me
When I get through
Oh and feel you near me
Driving in my car
Driving home for Christmas
Driving home for Christmas
With a thousand memories
I take a look at the driver next to me
He's just the same
He's driving home, driving home
Photo by Clementine Rosca
Two hours of waiting with nothing and then got a series of blurred shots with just one in focus! But the one was worth it!
Never have shot an Anna doing acrobatics like this! It's the forte of Rufous! Euphoric to see the sharp flippers and pollen laden beak!
Beautiful humming birds are everywhere! Very shy and feisty but incomparably gorgeous! It is spring time in San Diego! Loving every bit of it!
Shooting humming birds in the wild is anyways a bit of a challenge but an exciting and immensely rewarding one! You get to see what these little things do while acrobating in mid-air. Sometimes I just love watching them so much; I forget to click! Mostly, its hours of waiting time for a few seconds of high-octane thrill!
Gear: Nikkor 80-400mm AF-S on Nikon D810, I usually set the camera to shutter priority with 1/4000 to 5000 depending on the light.
Again thanks for you likes and comments, I highly appreciate it!
GAU_5578
San Francisco! Somewhere in there...
Canon EOS 1v
Canon 70-200 F4 L
Fujifilm Provia 100f
Een oudgediende op de Kirnitzschtalbahn bij het Forsthaus.
Tussen eind jaren '70 en midden jaren '90 bepaalden deze trams het beeld op de Kirnitzschtalbahn. Ze waren vanaf 1938 door de Waggonfabrik Gotha gebouwd voor Erfurt. Daarna deden ze nog een jaar of tien dienst op de Lockwitztalbahn, een dichterbij Dresden gelegen interlokale lijn, tot die opgeheven werd. Op de Kirnitzschtalbahn zijn ze tenslotte vervangen door tweedehands standaardtrams van dezelfde fabrikant uit de DDR-tijd, die als een doorontwikkeling van de Erfurter trams uit de jaren '30 zijn te beschouwen. Naast deze motorwagen zijn er van dit type nog drie andere museaal bewaard, in Dresden, Halle en Erfurt zelf
A veteran on the Kirnitzschtalbahn near Forsthaus.
Between the late 1970s and mid-1990s, these trams were the mainstay of the fleet of the Kirnitzschtalbahn. They were built from 1938 on by Waggonfabrik Gotha for the Erfurt tram system. After becoming redundant there, they gave some ten years of service on Lockwitztalbahn, an interurban closer to Dresden, until its closure. At Kirnitzschtal, these cars were finally replaced by second-hand standard cars of the same manufacturer from DDR years - a type that can be regarded as a continued development of this Erfurt type of the thirties. Apart from this car, three others of the same type are preserved in Dresden, Halle and Erfurt itself
If you are not French, it’s likely you haven’t ever heard the word “Saintonge”, and have no clue what it means. If you are French, it’s probably the same thing. Unless, that is, you are a fan of Romanesque, in which case you know that Saintonge, that small region of France centered around the town of Saintes (hence the name), not far from the Atlantic Ocean, just North of Bordeaux... features the highest density of Romanesque churches of all the country!
I had never visited that area of France, and so in the middle of October 2021, I took that long overdue trip and stayed two weeks in Saintes, driving left and right daily to photograph all the most significant Romanesque churches... and unfortunately leaving out many others, as they are so thick on the ground!
The church that we examine today is dedicated to saint Pierre-ès-Liens (Saint Peter-in-Chains) and is located in the village of Thaims.
There are several reasons why this church is truly unique and stands out among all those other Saintonge Romanesque churches.
The first reason is that it has doors on almost all sides: there is one on each arm of the transept, and if we can admit that the door at the end of the northern arm is a porte des morts leading into the cemetery (as we saw yesterday in Corme–Écluse), the one leading out of the southern transept arm is a lot more curious, especially since it is significantly decorated —as far as decorations go on this very simple church. I would have leaned towards a door opening onto a cloister if this church had, at any point in time, been an abbey or priory church, but there is absolutely zilch historical evidence of that.
Neither is there any mention of relics that would have been the subject of a pilgrimage, with the need to organize the flow of pilgrims entering through one door and exiting via another and besides, there is no ambulatory inside the church, whose floor plan remains very simple, even though it is in the shape of a Latin cross, which is rather unusual in Saintonge, as we have seen repeatedly.
The second reason is that it features a nicely rounded apse, also unusual in Saintonge where three-sided or five-sided apses are the norm. Note that the apse collapsed in the 20th century and had to be rebuilt, but that was done using the same stones whenever possible, and the job was very nicely done, and is virtually undetectable.
The third reason, and the most significant, is that this church is about the only one in the whole region that was built over a Roman villa, and a large and tall one, with big parts of it still showing, as you will see in some of the photos. The church itself is older than most of its Saintonge sisters, having been built, for the most part, during the 1000s.
The most interesting view of the church: all of the bell tower, up to the blind arcatures below the octagonal top part, was built during the Antiquity and was part of the villa I mentioned above.
So was part of the transept. Everything that is made up of smaller apparel is Roman, including the large arch to the right.
Beholding this ancient structure is amazing and quite emotional.
This is a composite photograph made up of two exposures stitched together in PTGui. There was not enough space for me to move back to include the whole building in the frame, even with the wide-angle 19mm tilt-shift lens.
This is my great grandfather, George Hollingsworth, who served in the Royal Medical Corps during the First World War.
He was stationed in Malta which was home to 27 hospitals and where over 136,000 soldiers were treated from the Gallipoli and Salonika campaigns alone, suffering malaria and dysentery as well as horrific battle injuries.
Thankfully he came home safely and returned to his job as deputy in a coal mine but I cannot imagine the horrors he saw during his time on the island.
The pocket watch was his wife Sarah's together with its winder. I wonder how many times she wound it whilst waiting for news of him?
The nursing badge belonged to his daughter Hilda who, inspired by her father, dedicated her life to medicine. She served as a nurse in the Royal Navy through the Second World War and as a matron all over England once it finished.
This is in memory of all who died and suffered around the world as well as those dedicated people who served to take care of them.
*Edit*
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sovVYInjHjw&feature=youtu.be
Flickr friend Mark Dixon www.flickr.com/photos/markrd5/ found the perfect music to accompany his touching tribute to those who died. It moved me to tears and says everything I was clumsily trying to say in the photograph above. Thank you for allowing me to share it too Mark.