Journey to next lifetime, only tombstones left behind
View allAll Photos Tagged Lifetime's
Taken at the beautiful Elvion ♥
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the color of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
How fragile we are how fragile we are
Taken at the beautiful Elvion ♥
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the color of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
How fragile we are how fragile we are
I see the crystal raindrops fall
And the beauty of it all
Is when the sun comes shining through
To make those rainbows in my mind
When I think of you sometime
And I want to spend some time with you
Just the two of us
We can make it if we try
Just the two of us
(Just the two of us)
Just the two of us
Building castles in the sky
Just the two of us
You and I
We look for love, no time for tears
Wasted water's all that is
And it don't make no flowers grow
Good things might come to those who wait
Not for those who wait too late
We gotta go for all we know
I hear the crystal raindrops fall
On the window down the hall
And it becomes the morning dew
And, darling, when the morning comes
And I see the morning sun
I want to be the one with you
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence
and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
Hacía tiempo que no escuchaba esta canción, no recordaba lo bonita que es, Fragile, el gran Sting.
Feliz viernes a todos, amigos.
"Fragile"
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
How fragile we are how fragile we are
💖💖 I am taking a little time Away from SL. I will keep my groups open here on Flickr.
In advance I want to thank you all for your always kindness and support. Please Know that I appreciate each one of you very much for taking the time to look at my pictures. You all mean a lot to me, you make Flickr a lovely place to be and to share pictures. Huge, huge hugs, peace and lots of love to you all💖💖
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
♥ Featuring the Beautiful Fleur Tattoo by Hades Voxel CORAƵ♥Ɲ maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Tiamo/27/70/22
♥ Frogmore
Texture --> www.flickr.com/photos/lenabem-anna/8819033212/in/dateposted/
• If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
drying in the color of the evening sun
tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
but something in our minds will always stay
perhaps this final act was meant
to clinch a lifetime's argument
that nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
for all those born beneath an angry star
lest we forget how fragile we are..•
__________________________
ʙᴇʀᴀs | ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴘᴀᴄᴋ ɴɪᴄᴋ
ᴅᴇᴇᴘ sᴛᴀᴛɪᴄ | ᴍɪsᴄʜᴀ ɢʟᴀssᴇs
ʟᴏʙsᴛᴏʀᴇ | ʜɪɢʜsᴛᴀɴᴅ sᴇᴛ - sʜɪʀᴛ & sʜᴏʀᴛs
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the color of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star
Like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are
How fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star
Like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are
How fragile we are
How fragile we are
How fragile we are
the ocean mist engulfs me, like a lifetime’s friendship honored.
― Sanober Khan
This was the beach right outside our motel in Lincoln City on the Oregon Coast....on a foggy morning.
I know, another Oregon image, but I still have so many :)
Zoom in and take a look....
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
How fragile we are how fragile we are
Memento mori = remember (that you have) to die.
"On The Inside, We Are All The Same"
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Fragile
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
How fragile we are how fragile we are
*Working Towards a Better World
The ocean mist
engulfs me, like a lifetime’s
friendship honored. -
Sanober Khan, A touch, a tear, a tempest
Thank you for your kind visit. Have a wonderful and beautiful day! xo💜💜
Listen: Sting and Stevie Wonder - Fragile
if blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
drying in the color of the evening sun
tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
but something in our minds will always stay
perhaps this final act was meant
to clinch a lifetime's argument
that nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
for all those born beneath an angry star
lest we forget how fragile we are
on and on the rain will fall
like tears from a star
like tears from a star
on and on the rain will say
how fragile we are
how fragile we are
sim: Vox
uber: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Vox%20Populi/131/75/29
Thank you in advance for all your support and comments of my photo ... I do love to read what you say ... and your time is deeply appreciated by me ... Twain ... ❤️
youtube:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lB6a-iD6ZOY&list=RDlB6a-iD6ZO...
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
How fragile we are how fragile we are
Fragile
written and sung by Sting
Fragile, Sting & Stevie Wonder
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FPjj8edvjgM
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the color of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are
Fragile ( lyrics by Sting)
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star, like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are, how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star, like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are, how fragile we are
How fragile we are, how fragile we are
a good start in the new week, it´s raining !
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
How fragile we are how fragile we are.........................
"Light explains nothing about meaning ... but is the basis of a lifetime's faith." (Robert Adams)
- Fátima, Portugal -
Re-edited photo taken in the Oakwood section of Staten Island,
NY.
Superstorm Sandy made me realize what an uncertain future we live in here along the eastern seaboard. Where storms like this can destroy a lifetime's work in an instant and turn it into the trash..
"Fragile" - Sting
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
How fragile we are how fragile we are
----------------------------------------------------
I used textures by natdiastok & nesster
music :
"Fragile"
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
How fragile we are how fragile we are
Life is fragile but it's this fragility which makes it beautiful. Understanding the moments we have are finite, can allow us to appreciate them even more.
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening Sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
Something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
Nothing comes from violence
And nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Let's we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star
Like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are
How fragile we are
Taken at an older version of stunning Natthimmel
The Secret Garden
There is a hidden secret garden in the neighbouring village - a wild and wonderful woodland, filled with native and exotic trees, fungi, flowers, painted dragonflies, meandering paths, and a babbling, sinuous stream running through it.
I am tempted to say "Isn't mother Nature marvellous?" but the truth is, this is the handiwork and vision of one man - Boyd Mackenzie. This is a lifetime's vocation made manifest in a woodland walk that looks as if it grew naturally in any forest, not - as it was when I came to Gress 35 years ago - a flat, grassy, open croft.
It proves that of you have the foresight, the patience, the skill, and the imagination, you can do anything.
This landscape seems like any other at first sight. But in fact it is the result of a conscious decision to go out into conditions that often deter photographers – what we think is bad light and rain. What prompted me to do this? Well I can be very specific here, and point to two absolutely brilliant video presentations that I had watched as the rain poured down earlier in the day. The first is by English artist and photographer Justin Jones, “On Landscape” www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZBT5pgFFwWo
One of Justin’s key concepts here is the notion of “visual literacy”. In just the same way as we learn to read a text, so we must also to learn to read the visual language of a photograph. This is just as important for composing as interpreting a photograph. Landscapes that survive the test of time are those we choose to return to time and again. Chocolate box images in perfect light and with plenty of Photoshop-ing give us a “sugar hit”, but it doesn’t last. That’s why we keep returning to the realist landscapes of Ansel Adams, Robert Adams and Fay Godwin and not to those that dominate the Google pages.
The second inspiring video was an interview with the Danish photographer Per Bak Jensen, “It isn't the camera. It's life itself unfolding.” www.youtube.com/watch?v=X1L-UmKwZHQ&t=506s
I assure you that this is 38 minutes very well spent if you are concerned with making your photography count. If there is one quote that sums up Jensen’s perspective it is this:
“...I sense something in our midst. Among us is something that wants to be in contact with us… That something wants to tell me something. I often feel I am very close to knowing or being told something – that can increase my knowledge of being a human being. My photographs are an attempt to search for the presence of that something, that can teach me about myself and about life.”
Jensen then concludes a lifetime’s photographic observation with this key:
“The photos I take aren’t photos I take myself. It’s a cooperation between me and something else that makes me take the pictures. I’d rather claim that the fundamental value of art is the spirit. And the spirit wants to contact us, but it’s invisible… But somehow it gives us an odd desire. It gives us courage. And it gives us a life force… If that’s the case, traces of that spirit can be seen in our images. I think that everyone working with images hopes so. That one can find a life force and spirituality in one’s work.”
The important thing for me when taking “Being Present in the World” was to immerse myself in the scene. To allow my subconscious understanding of “being in the landscape” to take over the decisions I made in the composition. When this happens you become part of the flow of life – you feel the breeze, smell the water in the wetlands, taste the air, observe every swan, react to the subtle changes in colour from green through to straw-yellows. And you also feel the Presence.
For me the trigger for that was the cloud cover that sat like a cushion overhead. I made my settings and clicked the shutter button. In that fraction of a second the landscape and I were inseparable. In Buddhist philosophy this is known as non-duality. There is simply no way to distinguish subject from object. The landscape was taking me in as much as I was photographing it. You can’t describe this feeling (like most mystical experiences), except that when it happens you KNOW it is real.
When you come to process the image your rational mind begins to take over again. Observation of the landscape tells you things you hadn’t seen before. In this case the most interesting discovery was to see how my subconscious had noted the way that in the upper third of the photograph the darker clouds mirror the grass formations next to the river in the bottom third, with the brightest luminescence across the middle. I was not operating on some conscious level to obey the rule of thirds (most of those rules are intended to be broken anyway).
There are many ways to make a photograph. This is just another one of them.
mein über dreißig jähre alter Hibiskus blüht immer wieder mit diesen schönen Blüten....leider blüht die Blüte nur
einen Tag..
my thirty year old hibiscus keeps blooming with these beautiful flowers !
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the color of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Least we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star
Like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are
How fragile we are.....
Sometimes its the smaller details that make a car really stand out, and on this 250 MM it was hard to miss the scripting that adorned the car.
This Ferrari (S/N 0352MM) was originally purchased as a replacement for a Ferrari 212 Europa Vignale Coupe (S/N 0239EU) that had an unfortunate accident during the 1952 Carrera Panamericana. When this car was bought, it's chassis was re-stamped with the 212's S/N so that it could be imported into Mexico without having to pay duty (the owner Efrain Ruiz Echeverria was Mexican).
This 250 MM was then entered into the 1953 Carrera Panamericana where it placed 7th overall.
In its lifetime, S/N 0352MM has been restored no less than 3 times, in 1976, 1978 and then in 1994.
In 2011, Nick Mason (of Pink Floyd fame) purchased the car, and subsequently had it shown at Pebble Beach concours (2013) where it was placed 3rd in class.
When taking this shot, it was hard to know where to focus, the intricate details and scripting made it hard to choose, but in the end this bonnet shot showing the straps and the 'No Hay Dos' writing won out - from what google can tell me, 'No Hay Dos' translates to 'No 2' which I assume is the point given the number 2 in red.
________________________________
With so much to love about Panama, it is hard to single one thing out - but I will: hummingbirds. On every walk - hummingbirds. In every yard - hummingbird feeders. the brilliant colors and diversity of species (59 in all) could make their enjoyment a lifetime's pursuit. I, for one, wouldn't mind a lifetime of coffee for breakfast out of doors and watching a White-necked Jacobin or Black-throated Mango dance before my eyes.
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star, like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are, how fragile we are
Lake Louise is world famous for its turquoise lakes, the Victoria Glacier, soaring mountain backdrop, palatial hotel, and incredible hiking and skiing. Surrounded by a lifetime's worth of jaw-dropping sights and adventures, Lake Louise is a rare place that must be experienced to be believed.
--- banfflakelouise.com
14 x 16.625 acrylic on canvas
A friend's little dog who just passed. I've been thinking so much since losing my beloved dog a year or so ago- how to convey in paint the mysterious transformation. The energy that is us doesn't go away, in a physics sense, it becomes something different. It may be a lifetime's work to succeed in conveying that in paint. I was hoping the energy in light and pattern might suggest it.
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
My Dad kept hens for most of his life. In latter years, he let me use a paddock at the farm and I kept a few hens there. In this photograph, my Dad is holding the day's eggs. My Dad had huge hands, weathered from a lifetime’s farming.
Dear Diary,
do you remember the last time-lost-in-time when I used to write things in-on you? Lifetime(s) ago, yet just a rain of drops-days on my aged back...
I don't know exactly what to tell you, but a silent friend made of virgin paper was a recurrent idea til today. You're true, it's no paper (I still use, though: don't point your finger!), and ticking on a keyboard is not exactly what it should be; but times change, just as hearts and people, faster than ever, and an electronic sheet is suitable as well for this intent. Will it work? I don't know. Will I know more about me? I don't know. Will I remain here, staring at you just as I did with white walls for poetry, for a long while. I just-don't-know. So listen.
All of a sudden the world becomes a huge spectacular ball to my eyes. Rethoric, maybe generated by the curiosity for astronomical things of my seven year old daughter Sara.
We were in the car, on sunday. The sun already fallen, a few stars shimmering above the luminous polluted horizon. "It's not a star", I said, when she pointed at the biggest white dot. "It's Jupiter, a big planet".
She started asking many questions. Once we get home I grabbed for her the encyclopedia, solar system volume. Both emotioned, we looked for Jupiter. "What is this black dot, daddy?" "It's the shadow of one of the four main satellites, love" "And the big red thing bigger that the Earth?" "Here, look. It's a rotating tempest that will never end..."
Weeks ago (before my own personal storm) we spent a beautiful day in a mountain wood, looking for some chestnut to roast after dinner. All the girls were happy, half legs covered with humid leaves. When we had enough, while we rested and ate some bread and Nutella on a concrete's bench and table in the shady yellow atmosphere, I placed a chestnut in a nicely lit spot, for a macro shot. When focusing and framing were ok, a little happy green bug appeared, walking thoughtless on the sheer brown surface. It seemed like a stubborn astronaut, proudly exploring what must have seemed a little planet's surface ...
We all are so little, not so silently standing on this runaway train called life.
We want anything, yet we cannot.
We constantly vacillate on the edge of our dreams just like fragile dwellers, trying to look/taste/hear far more than we can.
Knowing (life on Earth is one).
Knowing not (what really lies after/outside).
Endlessly rotating around this dichotomy; endlessly, just like the big red thing on Jupiter.
Sting - „Fragile“
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lB6a-iD6ZOY
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow′s rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall like tears from a star, like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say how fragile we are, how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall like tears from a star, like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say how fragile we are, how fragile we are
How fragile we are, how fragile we are
Für Achim
die zweite Blüte, leider wieder nicht ganz offen,sie verblüht so schnell !
mein über dreißig jähre alter Hibiskus blüht immer wieder mit diesen schönen Blüten....leider blüht die Blüte nur einen Tag...........................
heute war wieder so ein Tag, sie ist wahrscheinlich vormittags aufgeblüht und abends bzw. in der Nacht war sie schon fast wieder verblüht, so schaute die Blüte vor einer Stunde aus....
my more than thirty year old hibiscus blooms again and again with these beautiful flowers....unfortunately the flower only blooms for one day........................ .
Today was another day like that, it probably blossomed in the morning and in the evening or at night it had almost faded again, this is what the blossom looked like an hour ago....
listen
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the color of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Least we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star
Like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are
How fragile we are.....
How odd is the day that falls into silence
the one that betrays hope
and rallies to the call of numbness;
the body of pain's belligerence
silence is the answer to a lifetime's calling?
the one that rings and rings and rings
true to the empty space in heart
and continually comes back crawling
it is the strangest thing to come to terms with
when emptiness becomes the answer to nothingness
and the still disquieting nervousness
etches away at what presently appears but a myth
nothing adds up at all in the midst of Wintry equation
for now all senses and memories are devalued
heaven took the high road and this valley is fogbound;
it's invisible walls are closing in for the invasion
and the so the world became smaller, yet out of reach
so little left and somehow it's all untouchable
I no longer understand this fretted life
frightening no more, discomfort is now able to preach
dare I look back anymore, dare I ask any longer
for silence is winning the day hands down
one parallel line became shrouded and enigmatised
for the other seeks the day to become stronger
how odd is the day that falls into silence
we might ask?
if only we could...
for it is today...
by anglia24
12h00: 12/01/2008
© 2008anglia24
☀
I have seen a Woodcock a few times recently while on my daily cycle ride, all in a similar area, but each time it has flown off before I got chance to get a good look at it. So this afternoon I decided to take a walk in this area with my wife. Unbelievably I managed to spot it and photograph it without flushing it, which is a very rare event in my lifetime's experience of trying to watch Woodcocks. It took me years to even get a decent look at a Woodcock, and many more years before I managed a half-decent photo. Most of my sightings have been of "roding" males during their dusk display flights. This one never moved, so I cannot upload any different views of it, apart from a more distant view showing the wider environment. But I was pleased I managed to get a low point of view for this secretive bird. It was still present when we left it but wasn't there when we returned about an hour later.
Because of their secretive nature Woodcocks are really difficult to survey but it has been placed on the Red List because of a >50% breeding range contraction from 1968-72 to 2008-11. They are usually recorded as probable breeding if males are seen roding. But a >50% range contraction means that more than half of the 10km squares that recorded Woodcock in 1968, no longer held Woodcock in 2011. This will probably mean an even greater population decline (cf range contraction) because many of these 10km squares would have held many breeding pairs.
I think what I enjoyed most of all was the look on my new friend’s face when he gazed down towards the scene below us for the very first time. Well it was either that or the amount of Swedish chocolate he’d brought with him. Enough to feed half of West Cornwall in fact, but to my everlasting pleasure it was all for me. If this is how it was going to be, then I was quite content to chauffeur him in all manner of directions across the county, very possibly towing a reasonably sized trailer full of Nordic confectionery along behind us. All I need to do now is stay away from the bathroom scales and make excuses if anyone tries to take a cholesterol reading. Of course, it is in keeping with a long held European tradition that one of the chocolate bars has an amusing and faintly rude sounding name. Bearing in mind that half the population of Europe probably speak better English than half the population of England, I can only assume that these things are done for comic effect.
It’s the second time that Flickr has been solely responsible for introducing me to one of you, and curious that on each occasion the visitor to my home county has made Botallack their location of choice. Maybe not so curious. It’s a place that’s rapidly climbed the charts among my own favourites, and one that can still draw a sharp intake of breath on arrival - even though I can be here in well under an hour from my front door. While we’d picked the day that suited us both some weeks earlier, I left it to Steve to choose the subject, which is the proper thing to do, sharing images from a number of other suggested options, including at least three more within a few miles of this one.
Our early arrival took us to the local pub, a brand new experience for me too, and here we shared snippets of our lives, the ladies we share them with, our respective children, my grandchildren, and other important matters such as exactly how the name of that Swedish flatpack furniture giant should be pronounced. If you’re British or Irish, you’re probably pronouncing it incorrectly by the way. Just saying. Don’t shoot the messenger. I stopped short of asking him if he had an address for the subject of the world’s longest ever schoolboy crush. Maybe it was time I accepted that Agnetha Faltskog, who mesmerised my nine year old self and then haunted my teenage years to distraction, needed to be set free at last. Or maybe he just didn’t know where she lived. I guess in a country with ten and a half million people you can’t be on personal terms with everyone can you?
Before arriving, and despite having chosen the location, Steve was good enough to let me know that he wasn’t overly enthusiastic about sheer vertical drops, leaving us both with some misgivings about whether he’d tackle the fabled Ledge of Doom, the narrow crossing on the other side of which offers what are arguably the most dramatic images from Botallack. Maybe some of my tales have been a bit melodramatic, but put it this way - I’m surprised the National Trust’s Health and Safety brigade haven’t yet dynamited it during a noisy winter’s night, blamed the aftermath on coastal erosion and given us all a fait accomplit. They probably will one day. Hope they don’t read this. It’s the only place where you can get down to the same level as the engine houses themselves. Unless you have a drone and a very understanding insurance underwriter that is. You don’t need to cross the Ledge of Doom to get an agreeable photograph here, but you’ll be glad that you did. At least until you remember you have to cross back over again after you’ve taken your shots unless you have a tent and a lifetime’s supply of food.
But Steve displayed the courage of some much earlier battle helmet wearing Scandinavian visitors to these shores, and followed me across and back. Twice, no less. On the second escapade I headed lower down still, onto my favourite rock and settled there, safe in the knowledge that I could still see him clacking contentedly away above me, his tripod pointing in the direction of the engine houses. After a while I noticed he’d vanished, and worried that I might be held responsible for any unfortunate incidents and find myself indefinitely excluded from Petra’s Christmas card list, I headed back up to make sure he hadn’t taken an unexpected bath. In fact he was sitting on the clifftop on the other side of the perilous passage, chatting away to a young Polish photographer who was touring the area and sleeping in his car. A successful meeting, and one of many more to come I hope. I was happy with the shots I’d taken, and rather more importantly, Steve seemed to be too. Even though he thought his best picture of the evening might be of a different subject entirely. We’ll all have to watch and wait on that score. He's still touring the south of England somewhere as I write.
And finally, today’s top tip. When learning to speak enough of the lingo to find your way around Gothenburg without inadvertently ending up in Malmo, if you’re unsure on your vocab, say the English word in a Swedish accent. Straight from the horse’s mouth. Now then, I fancy a couple of squares of strawberry flavoured Plopp. Where did I hide that chocolate? Now let's see, second field beyond the gate, third tree, fourteen paces west, twelve paces south……
Lake Louise: Upon first sighting the sparkling turquoise Lake Louise, the actual lake itself, it is difficult not to gasp in awe. The beautiful, milky-blue lake rests at the foot of Victoria Glacier, which rises majestically behind it, capped by snow and ice year round. First sighted by Europeans in 1882, the magnificent Lake Louise has become one of Canada’s best-loved and most-visited attractions. Lake Louise is world famous for its turquoise lakes, the Victoria Glacier, soaring mountain backdrop, palatial hotel, and incredible hiking and skiing. Surrounded by a lifetime’s worth of jaw-dropping sights and adventures, Lake Louise is a rare place that must be experienced to be believed. Lake Louise (named Ho-run-num-nay (Lake of the Little Fishes) by the Stoney Nakota First Nations people) is a glacial lake within Banff National Park in Alberta, Canada. It is located 5 km (3.1 mi) west of the Hamlet of Lake Louise and the Trans-Canada Highway
My childhood piggy bank, given to me by my grandmother. I must say, I'm a little disappointed in the return on my initial investment of pennies.
“Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home.”
― Edith Sitwell
An Alternative Christmas Message
Merry Christmas to you and you and YOU
I hope I left no-one out
Happy Holidays to everyone
can you hear me shout!
Singing out praises
and counting my blessings
Christmas is here
I hope I learned at least some of my lessons
Santa Claus will be here soon
Do I hope he brings me lots of presents?
NO! It's more about being with family and friends
and remembering those whom we are missing
OH! But when consumerism and Amazon Prime
tops the bill of mankind's prized obsessions
acquisition of such useless things
hoarding of a lifetime's possessions
the whole world takes a backward step
becomes less whole and creates a hole
so the W for world and the W for hole
stands for Waste and Want and a different Christmas story unfolds
Far from the days when Christmas was about
being kind and loving to all on Earth
when did we stop teaching children
about our Lord Jesus' birth …
decorate the tree put a fairy on top
rather it was an angel or a star
twinkling lights and fake glass baubles
plastic landfills in the Earth and the oceans deep and far
think about the dinner that you will eat
enough food to feed more than five thousand in the Bible
do you think the fish that were fed back then
consumed masses of plastic; now it's unreliable
to assume that the food we feed this generation
will be as pure as in Biblical times
the choices we make now will depend on how
we move forward; redress the balance of these present climes
a big hole in the ozone did not appear there overnight
and it will take a lot more darning than a sock
but maybe if we each do a little bit each day
we may save our planet and rewind the clock
and if we do not heed the warnings of our time
then we will certainly make mankind like dinosaurs, extinct
but if this happens then so be it
for the Earth will recover faster without us, I think
and let us hope the creatures of the Earth will too survive
the flora and the fauna become more multiplied
for I think it is us humans who will be our own undoing
there is no greater time to change things. It's time now to decide.
- AP - Copyright © remains with and is the intellectual property of the author
Copyright © protected image please do not reproduce without permission
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you all <3
Home-made Christmas video card
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the color of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Least we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star
Like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are
How fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star
Like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are
How fragile we are
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the color of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Book: www.lulu.com/shop/giles-watson/pearl/paperback/product-20...
The story so far: The Dreamer loses his Pearl in a grassy mound - evidently her grave. He swoons with grief, and awakens in an earthly paradise, through which there runs a beautiful stream. The land on the opposite bank seems even more beautiful. He wanders further down the stream, hoping to find a bridge or a ford. Just when he starts to become afraid of the dangers that may be in store for him, he sees a young woman sitting at the foot of a crystal cliff on the opposite bank, and instantly recognises her as his lost Pearl. He hails his Pearl and expresses his relief that she still exists, but she begins to reprove him for his lack of faith. She criticises him for only believing that her soul is immortal now that he can see her, and is shocked by his suggestion that he - a mortal man - has a hope of joining her in Paradise without first experiencing death.
He tells her that for him to walk away from her now that he has found her again would be to suffer a fresh bereavement. She replies that it is divinely decreed that he cannot cross over to her. The Dreamer pleads with his Pearl to accept that his rash questions were borne out of his great grief, and asks her to describe her life in Paradise. She relents, and tells him that she is crowned Queen of Heaven, and is married to the Lamb. The Dreamer is shocked by this assertion. He says that he thought only the Virgin Mary was Queen of Heaven. Pearl replies with a description of a-semi egalitarian heaven in which all inhabitants are kings and queens, and asserts that although Mary has pre-eminence, none of those in heaven would ever question it, because she is so “courteous”. She cites the Pauline notion that the church is the body of Christ in support of her claim.
The Dreamer is even less convinced than before. He wonders how she can have been instantly crowned a Queen of Heaven when she was on the earth for less than two years. She replies at length, citing the parable of the labourers in the vineyard as justification for her rapid advancement in the kingdom of Heaven. She continues to retell the parable, and concludes by insisting that like the workers who worked less than two hours in the vineyard, she was first in line for God’s reward when she reached Heaven. The Dreamer cannot understand. Surely, he argues, those who have endured a lifetime’s pain and temptation must have precedence. She responds that those who die as children die innocent, whereas those who have lived longer are more likely to be tainted by the world, and argues that the Dreamer is underestimating the grace of God. She continues by expounding a series of Biblical texts on the theme of righteousness and justification, culminating with the scene from the gospels in which Christ welcomes the children, and reproves his disciples for attempting to repel them. She continues to expound on this theme, reminding the Dreamer that Christ insisted that one must become like a little child in order to approach him.
The Dreamer admits that she is stupendously beautiful, but wonders how she can have won the title of Queen and bride of Christ, in the face of stiff competition: all those other women who have gone to heaven. Her reply draws upon the Old Testament prophets and the Book of Revelation: the Lamb which was slain in Jerusalem will return to govern the New Jerusalem as its King, with a company of a hundred and forty-four thousand wives – one of whom is the Pearl. She describes the state of bliss experienced by all the brides of the Lamb, and the worship that is offered to him. The Dreamer asks her for a boon: he wants to see the heavenly city or fortress where she lives. She describes the spotless city of the New Jerusalem, and he is so entranced by the glory she describes that he repeats his request to be taken to see it. She grants his request, even though he will not be able to set foot inside the city, and he follows her upstream until he can see the heavenly City. At first, he cannot lift his eyes beyond the twelve tiers at its base, each one wrought of precious stones – with the exception of one, which is fashioned out of pearl. Now, he begins to look up at – and through – the City itself, awed beyond belief by its beauty. He realises that no mortal could ever enter the city and survive its sublime excess – and sees a throng of a hundred thousand and more women, all dressed and jewelled like his Pearl, approaching the throne of God in the company of the Lamb.
Pearl: Part 19
Just as the rising, marvellous moon
Drives the ebbing day-gleams down,
It shakes the very soul of man
To know this City – of rich renown –
Is thronged with retinues of women:
All virgins, wearing the same gowns,
Answering the same unseen summons
As my own bejewelled and blissful one –
And all of them are likewise crowned,
Dripping pearls, and draped in white.
In each one’s breast is firmly clasped
A blissful pearl of great delight.
In great delight they glide together
On golden, glinting, glassy roads;
A hundred thousand of them gather,
All rigged out in matching robes,
Each as radiant as the other.
The splendid Lamb before them rides
With seven horns – a lather
Of priceless pearls encrusts his clothes,
And without clamour, the virgins close
In upon the throne, their ranks all white.
Like maidens at Mass, they rise in rows,
Pouring forth with great delight.
The delight the Lamb’s coming brings
Is too intense for me to tell:
The aldermen, when he arrives,
Swoon at his feet. No pen could spell
Out how that angel-legion throngs,
With thuribles, the delightful smell
Of incense eternally on the rise,
And for that Jewel, their praises swell:
They quake the Earth and cleave Hell.
The virtuous orders of angels smite
My heart. I long to sing as well,
And lose my soul in their delight.
Delighting in the Lamb, I reel,
Rapt in wonder. Just out of reach
He seems: more regal and real
Than prophets could spell out in speech,
His garments all glorious, the seal
Of graciousness upon his face. I search
With wild eyes the wound that spills
His heart’s blood, in a great gush,
The skin so torn. I swoon and lurch,
Sick to think that sin and spite
Thrust in the spear and raised the lash.
Can men do this, and take delight?
And yet, delight is on his face
Despite that open, gushing sore:
The agony has left no trace
On his expression – an exultant stare.
Around him, his retinue of grace,
Lambent with life, enough to sear
My eyes. And there, looking utterly in-place,
My little Queen. Did she stand near
Me in that glade? Christ! I can hear
Her laughter, mingling with the mass, all white.
I must wade these waters, face my fear
With love, and longing for delight.
Late fourteenth century poem, written in a north-west midland dialect of Middle English, paraphrased by Giles Watson.
My final gannet in flight photo from Muriwai Beach. This is the full frame, not a crop!
This place is a BIF photographer's dream come true. I got a lifetime's worth of BIF photos from my two 2-hour long visits to this place.
When we did all our trip planning for our month-long trip to Australia and New Zealand, I had no idea such a place existed, and I could not have imagined I would be coming back with dozens of BIF photos. This was a tremendous and totally unexpected bonus.
Auckland, New Zealand
Dec-25 7R406858
'blood will flow when flesh and steel are one'
'nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could'
Fragile (lyrics)
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the color of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Least we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star
Like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are
How fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star
Like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are
How fragile we are
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the color of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star
Like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are
How fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star
Like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are
How fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star
Like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are
Sting
Fragile
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow´s rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay.
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime´s argument
That nothing comes from violence
And nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall like tears from a star, like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say how fragile we are, how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall like tears from a star, like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say how fragile we are, how fragile we are
How fragile we are, how fragile we are
…she remembered watching a summer sunset from this very spot. not so long ago; just a lifetime.”
......s. penman
Genesis > Trespass (1970) > Dusk
See my hand is trembling
touching all that's real
Once it stroked love's body
now it claws the past.
The scent of a flower,
The colours of the morning,
Friends to believe in,
Tears soon forgotten,
See how the rain drives away, another day.
If a leave as fallen,
does the tree lie broken?
If we draw some water,
does the well run dry?
The sigh of a mother,
The screaming of lovers,
Like two angry tigers,
They tear at each other,
See how for him lifetime's fears disappear.
Once Jesus suffered,
Heaven could not see him.
Now my ship is sinking,
The captain stands alone.
A pawn on the chessboard,
A false move by God will now destroy me,
But wait, on the horizon,
A new dawn seems to be rising,
Never to recall this passerby, born to die.
"If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the color of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are"
(20190504 037_pp_cr16_9_bn)