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Astronomers using NASA’s Hubble Space Telescope have imaged the largest protoplanetary disk ever observed circling a young star. For the first time in visible light, Hubble has revealed the disk is unexpectedly chaotic and turbulent, with wisps of material stretching much farther above and below the disk than astronomers have seen in any similar system. Strangely, more extended filaments are only visible on one side of the disk. The findings, which published Tuesday in The Astrophysical Journal, mark a new milestone for Hubble and shed light on how planets may form in extreme environments, as NASA’s missions lead humanity’s exploration of the universe and our place in it.
Located roughly 1,000 light-years from Earth, IRAS 23077+6707, nicknamed “Dracula’s Chivito,” spans nearly 400 billion miles — 40 times the diameter of our solar system to the outer edge of the Kuiper Belt of cometary bodies. The disk obscures the young star within it, which scientists believe may be either a hot, massive star, or a pair of stars. And the enormous disk is not only the largest known planet-forming disk; it’s also shaping up to be one of the most unusual.
“The level of detail we’re seeing is rare in protoplanetary disk imaging, and these new Hubble images show that planet nurseries can be much more active and chaotic than we expected,” said lead author Kristina Monsch of the Center for Astrophysics | Harvard & Smithsonian (CfA). “We’re seeing this disk nearly edge-on and its wispy upper layers and asymmetric features are especially striking. Both Hubble and NASA’s James Webb Space Telescope have glimpsed similar structures in other disks, but IRAS 23077+6707 provides us with an exceptional perspective — allowing us to trace its substructures in visible light at an unprecedented level of detail. This makes the system a unique, new laboratory for studying planet formation and the environments where it happens.”
The nickname “Dracula’s Chivito” playfully reflects the heritage of its researchers—one from Transylvania and another from Uruguay, where the national dish is a sandwich called a chivito. The edge-on disk resembles a hamburger, with a dark central lane flanked by glowing top and bottom layers of dust and gas.
The impressive height of these features wasn’t the only thing that captured the attention of scientists. The new images revealed that vertically imposing filament-like features appear on just one side of the disk, while the other side appears to have a sharp edge and no visible filaments. This peculiar, lopsided structure suggests that dynamic processes, like the recent infall of dust and gas, or interactions with its surroundings, are shaping the disk.
“We were stunned to see how asymmetric this disk is,” said co-investigator Joshua Bennett Lovell, also an astronomer at the CfA. “Hubble has given us a front row seat to the chaotic processes that are shaping disks as they build new planets — processes that we don’t yet fully understand but can now study in a whole new way.”
All planetary systems form from disks of gas and dust encircling young stars. Over time, the gas accretes onto the star, and planets emerge from the remaining material. IRAS 23077+6707 may represent a scaled-up version of our early solar system, with a disk mass estimated at 10 to 30 times that of Jupiter — ample material for forming multiple gas giants. This, plus the new findings, makes it an exceptional case for studying the birth of planetary systems.
“In theory, IRAS 23077+6707 could host a vast planetary system,” said Monsch. “While planet formation may differ in such massive environments, the underlying processes are likely similar. Right now, we have more questions than answers, but these new images are a starting point for understanding how planets form over time and in different environments.”
The Hubble Space Telescope has been operating for over three decades and continues to make ground-breaking discoveries that shape our fundamental understanding of the universe. Hubble is a project of international cooperation between NASA and ESA (European Space Agency). NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center in Greenbelt, Maryland, manages the telescope and mission operations. Lockheed Martin Space, based in Denver, also supports mission operations at Goddard. The Space Telescope Science Institute in Baltimore, which is operated by the Association of Universities for Research in Astronomy, conducts Hubble science operations for NASA.
Image credit: Image: NASA, ESA, STScI, Kristina Monsch (CfA); Image Processing: Joseph DePasquale (STScI)
For more information: science.nasa.gov/missions/hubble/nasas-hubble-reveals-lar...
L-DG51B tip toes along the jointed rail along Potash Road near Moab as a trio of dirt bikers blow their doors off in a lopsided "race".
Plain and simple, we hated fellow Americans less before the advent of right-wing media.
Kaleidoscopic image of sparks flying.
I tried to get the shot perfectly centered behind the statue, but there was only a split second to get it as I was shooting in low burst. This shot was quite lopsided in camera, but it was nearly right on center.
Sony A7Rm2, FE 55mm, f2.5, 1/200, ISO 640
A blog post and gallery of photos from my photo flight can be found here.
This turbulent celestial palette of purple and yellow shows a bubble of gas named NGC 3199, blown by a star known as WR18 (Wolf-Rayet 18).
Wolf-Rayet stars are massive, powerful, and energetic stars that are just about reaching the end of their lives. They flood their surroundings with thick, intense, fast-moving winds that push and sweep at the material found there, carving out weird and wonderful shapes as they do so. These winds can create strong shockwaves when they collide with the comparatively cool interstellar medium, causing them to heat up anything in their vicinity. This process can heat material to such high temperatures that it is capable of emitting X-rays, a type of radiation emitted only by highly energetic phenomena in the Universe.
This is what has happened in the case of NGC 3199. Although this kind of scenario has been seen before, it is still relatively rare; only three other Wolf-Rayet bubbles have been seen to emit X-rays (NGC 2359, NGC 6888, and S308). WR18 is thought to be a star with especially powerful winds; once it has run out of material to fuel these substantial winds it will explode violently as a supernova, creating a final breath-taking blast as it ends its stellar life.
This image was taken by the European Photon Imaging Camera (EPIC) on ESA’s XMM-Newton X-ray space observatory, and marks different patches of gas in different colours. The incredibly hot, diffuse, X-ray-emitting gas within the Wolf-Rayet bubble is shown in blue, while a bright arc that is visible in the optical part of the spectrum is traced out in shades of yellow-green (oxygen emission) and red (sulphur emission).
This blue and yellow-green component forms an optical nebula – a glowing cloud of dust and ionised gases – that stretches out towards the western end of the X-ray bubble (in this image, North is to the upper left). This lopsided arc caused astronomers to previously identify WR18 as a so-called runaway star moving far faster than expected in relation to its surroundings, but more recent studies have shown that the observed X-ray emission does not support this idea. Instead, the shape of NGC 3199 is thought to be due to variations in the chemistry of the bubble’s surroundings, and the initial configuration of the interstellar medium around WR18.
Explore this object in ESASky.
Credits: ESA/XMM-Newton; J. Toalá; D.Goldman
From Atlasobscura: "A mushroom-shaped rock looms above the coast near Måløy, Norway. Over time, strong westerly winds caused the ocean to erode and shape many of the stones along the shore, including this one. Thousands of years of crashing waves gave the Kannesteinen Rock its distinct svelte figure.
Depending on the angle (and the viewer’s imagination), the mushroom rock may take the shape of a goblet, a leafy stem, a wonky heart, a statue of a mushroom cloud, or a lopsided whale tale bursting through the surrounding stones. Locals used to call the misshapen geological figure “kannestolen” because it supposedly also resembles a one-legged chair (“stolen” is the Norwegian word for chair).
The rock, though sporting an oddly thin middle, is still stable. Three or four people can comfortably climb atop its surface, though this can be a tricky feat during high tide. It’s now a sought-after spot for photographers, and is even considered a protected location under Norwegian law."
Thank you for another charming weekend. See you in a brisk two weeks :)
Ahh pages full of new wonderful pictures from you guys - I will catch up as I expertly procrastinate more on homework.
This was taken as my camera perched precariously on a lopsided rock! Poor thing has been through everything!
I took this shot from the car as I was driving by so forgive me for it being lopsided. I decided to do this one in sepia because you know me, I love sepia!
Large: farm3.static.flickr.com/2037/2240268027_49d1293f9b_b.jpg
but enter at your own peril: steep and slippery-sides, over 3-metres deep, submerged branches, and critters aplenty! The fig-tree atop the rock on the right has a garland wrapped around it's trunk to appease the spirits of the land (according to local animistic belief). Some say the pool-spirit's face is cast in the facing moss-covered rock (left of centre)...
Nah, I just made that last bit up, but the rock does appear to have a face with a lopsided mouth.
As it, shot in action with my F90, when we were leaving a parking...
After a B-Day party, I m not really sure if the walls of the parking were lopsided or if it was me ...Don't worry I was not the driver-)))) (^-^)
Paris.
LNER Gresley A4 pacific 60022 ''Mallard'' - in immaculate condition - at Kings Cross station in June 1962, with the S.L.S & R.C.T.S Jt. Tours Committee 'Aberdeen Flyer' - and slightly lopsided lettering..
There is a BBC TV film crew on the platform, who seem to be getting a shot of the commemorative plaque on the side of the loco...
The loco was withdrawn in April 1964, and restored to pre-war LNER condition, and was preserved at the British Transport Museum at Clapham, and later at the new National Railway Museum at York. It returned to steam briefly in the 1980s, but has since been a static exhibit again, and today (2022) is at the NRM, York.
Kings Cross station has been rebuilt several times since this photo was taken, and today, all these tracks are electrified..
Restored from an under-exposed partially-obstructed cyan/orange-colour-shifted original..
Original slide - property of Robert Gadsdon
Yeah… I know… The light is not centered.
I hate that.
If I centered the light, then everything else would be lopsided.
Sorry… It's not my fault. I didn't build the place.
Anyway. This is another fantastic alleyway, from Balboa Park, in San Diego, California.
Still looking through all the crap I shot in all my months on the road.
This was week #2
Balboa park is one of the nicest city parks I have ever seen. These alleyways were just fantastic! Trying to get shots of these alleyways without any people in the shot was challenging.
October 25th, 1415. On St. Crispin's day the beleaguered English expeditionary force in France was cornered by the chivalry of France. Outnumbered 5:1 and outclassed by heavy mounted cavalry, the English yeoman archers and foot soldiers claimed one of the most lopsided victories in history suffering a few hundred losses and inflicting over 6000.
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View on black please.
Living in London, I don't get much change for seascape or semi-seascape photographs. I usually have to go to Napoli to get decent water shots, especially nice sunset ones, although sometimes you can make do with a river. Strange as it may seem, my latest water image is from a landlocked country - Hungary.
I was quite surprised at just how massive Lake Balaton is. It is the largest lake in Central Europe and 22nd largest in the whole of Europe, putting it several places ahead of Northern Ireland's own Lough Neagh.
This photo was quick shoot while we tried to find somewhere to eat. Sadly, during these exposures, the waves shot up through the cracks in this lopsided pier and covered by lens in water drops. Had to do a bit of potatoshop magic to get rid of the marks.
I wasn't too sure what daily photo to put up today, so my lovely followers on Twitter picked this one (without seeing it until now, might I add).
This looks much better larger and on black. (Press L)
No group graphics or large images in comments please.
Details
Canon EOS 500D / ISO 100 / f/22 / 10-20mm @ 10mm
With John here you have to wonder what came first his name or his wonkiness and that is a difficult thing to answer with any degree of truth. I'm pretty sure John's parents somehow knew he would be the world's one and only wonkometer and that one day he would save the world. You see John had the uncanny ability to see if something was off, not quite right, a bit squiffy and not just in the sense of a picture being straight for example (which, of course, he could do with supreme accuracy) but also a kind of sixth sense that would allow him to see to the truth of matters. Due to a series of highly improbably but extremely fortunate incidents John became the special counsel to the Dalai Lama and the rest is history. Wait a second. What year is this? I may have jumped the gun. Ignore that last sentence about the Dalai Lama...
Cheers
id-iom
July 24th-25th
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In 1848, the Duchies of Schleswig and Holstein rebelled against the Danish government, starting a little known but incredibly important conflict in present-day northern Germany. The First Schleswig war saw Schleswig Holstein, alongside Prussia and numerous other German states, battle with Denmark for over four years. Each side would suffer almost 9,000 casualties each. The Danes emerged victorious and retained control of the duchy of Schleswig and the German state of Holstein, solidifying the territories as part of the Danish federation. Twelve years later, however, a second war would ignite over the same territories. This time around, Prussia and the German Confederation would gain control of the duchies in a lopsided victory over Denmark.
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Isted, or Idstedt in German, is a town in Flensburg, Schleswig-Holstein. Denmark and Schleswig-Holstein wanted to end the ongoing war with one decisive battle. At Isted, the two armies clashed over a terrain littered with defensive works, hamlets, and streams. Though outnumbered by over 10,000 troops, Schleswig-Holstein maintained a line of defenses that protected much of the town. Denmark's forces, bolstered by an unknown number of Swedish-Norwegian volunteers, fought through rain, humidity, and difficult terrain to defeat their dug-in foe, killing, wounding, or capturing over 2,800 troops to their over 3,600 casualties. The decisive battle both sides had wanted came and went, though neither gained a particularly significant advantage over the other and the war continued for two more years. This scene depicts the Danish main army at the Helligbæk stream, a chokepoint where the fighting of the first day was at its hottest. The redoubts and artillery pits of the German forces take their toll on the advancing Danes, especially the royal guard at the forefront. Cavalry from both sides enter the fray, hoping to tip the scales.
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This collaboration with 8 builders earned the Best Battle Scene award at BrickFair VA 2024 and is our largest collaborative project to date at 3x8 gray baseplates!
More on Instagram @carson_brix_1 and @natelego_
I found another lopsided Caladenia! I suppose if there are thousands in bloom, some of them are going to come in some different sizes. I think they look neat. [Central Tablelands, NSW]
The collage works from the bottom left to the top left, so anti clockwise from the bottom.
Some of the photos are a bit lopsided as I was taking them through a chicken wire fence.
Much rather him than me!
Better viewed large and thank you for your favourites. :O)
Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Tonight however we are at Glynes, the grand Georgian family seat of the Chetwynds in Wiltshire, and the home of Lettice’s parents, the presiding Viscount and Countess of Wrexham and the heir, their eldest son Leslie. Lettice is visiting her family home as her parents host their first Hunt Ball since 1914. Lady Sadie has been completely consumed over the last month by the planning and preparation of the occasion, determined that not only will it be the event of the 1922 county season, but also that it will be a successful entrée for her youngest daughter, still single at twenty-one years of age, to meet a number of eligible and marriageable men. Letters and invitations have flown from Lady Sadie’s bonheur de jour* to the families of eligible bachelors, some perhaps a little too old to be considered before the war, achieving more than modest success. Whilst Lettice enjoys dancing, parties and balls, she is less enthusiastic about the idea of the ball being used as a marriage market than her parents are.
The fancy dress Hunt Ball has now been in full swing for several hours and after the splendid buffet in the Glynes dining room, the guests are starting to thin a little as the older generation and those staying further afield start to depart, whilst some of the younger party-goers cast their eyes about and with heads bowed conspiratorially together discuss fresher pastures to move to before the night is through. Sir John Nettleford-Hughes has departed in a rather disgruntled mood having not had the pleasure of being shown the Glynes portrait of Marie Antoinette by Lettice, leaving in the company of a rather buxom Columbine, noticeably younger than him, anxious to assuage his wounded pride. Nicholas Ayres is noticeably absent, as is Marsden the Chetwynd’s tall and handsome first footman. In spite of the dwindling number of guests, the Georgian style ballroom of Glynes with its golden yellow wallpaper and gilt Louis Quatorze furnishings is still very much alive with colour and movement as couples in slightly deshabille fancy dress dance together. The band hired by the Viscount continues to play foxtrots, and polkas, however the novelty dances of the earlier evening have been replaced with more sedate waltzes. Their sound carries over the general hubbub of voices chattering punctuated by laughter and the clinking of glasses. Around the perimeter of the ballroom’s parquet dance floor, guests sit in chairs and sofas, massaging sore heels and toes, chatting idly over champagne, or admire and remark on the fancy dress attired couples still taking to the floor. Yet one couple who caused quite a stir in the latter part of the evening are not on the floor as Lettice and Selwyn Spencely sit in a quiet alcove of the ballroom drinking champagne, nibbling canapés and laughing over stories of when they played together as children of six, all under the watchful eyes of the great and the good of the county.
“Oh they do look sweet together,” Gerald’s mother, Lady Gwyneth, remarks from her seat on a gilt Louis Quatorze sofa, raising a lace handkerchief to her mouth as she lets out another of her wheezing coughs.
Rubbing her friend and neighbour comfortingly on the back, Lettice’s mother, Lady Sadie, who sits beside her on the sofa, takes her eagle eyes momentarily from her daughter’s romantic progress to look with concern upon her friend. “I do wish you’d reconsidered coming tonight, my dear.”
“And miss this spectacle?” Lady Gwyneth replies in a raspy voice as she catches her breath. “Never!” She takes another few shallow breaths as she presses her chest inside the tightly laced bodice of her Eighteenth Century ballgown. “We haven’t had such an occasion to look forward to since 1914. I wasn’t going to miss this for the world, dear Sadie.”
“This cool spring evening air is not good for you, Gwen.”
“Oh, pooh the cool evening air!” Lady Gwyneth bats away with her fan. “It’s just the remnants of that chest cold I had in November, Sadie.”
“Which was still nagging on New Year’s Eve, Gwen.”
“Now, I won’t have you nanny me, however well meaning the thought is,” She pats Lady Sadie’s hand with her own. “Tonight, of all nights.”
“Yes, well,” Lady Sadie smiles pleasingly as her gaze goes back across the alcove to her daughter and Selwyn. “Sir John went off in rather a huff. However,” Sighing happily she continues. “It does seem to have worked it’s magic, which makes all the planning well worth it.”
“Sir John is no loss my dear,” Lady Gwyneth replies as she takes a sip of her champagne. “It has been whispered that he is known to be a bit of a lecher.”
“If the stories about him are true.”
“Well I’d say they must be. Did you see that girl he left with this evening?”
“No.”
“She was young enough to be his daughter, and she flaunted herself shamelessly before him! No, if Lettice was going to be paired with anyone this evening, you’d be hard pressed to make a better match than Selwyn Spencely.” Lady Gwyneth smiles munificently at the pair. “He’s handsome and charming.”
“Not to mention rather well off, and heir to a duchy.” Lady Sadie breathes, raising her own glass of champagne to her lips.
“All you need is one direct hit,” Lady Gwyneth begins when they are suddenly interrupted by Bramley, the Chetwynd’s butler.
“Er, excuse me My Lady,” he begins.
“Yes Bramley?” Lady Sadie glances up at her faithful retainer with inquisitive eyes. “What is it?”
“Beg pardon the intrusion, My Lady, but Mr. Spencely is asking for another bottle of champagne for he and Miss Lettice to share.”
“Give Mr. Spencely anything he desires, Bramley.” Lady Sadie replies. “Fetch out a decent bottle from the cellars.” Glancing at her friend she quickly adds, “Not that this is poor quality,” She taps her half empty glass with her glove clan finger. “But we don’t want anything to take us off the bullseye. Do we Gwen?” She chuckles as Bramley quietly withdraws.
“Indeed not, Sadie.” Lady Gwyneth agrees, a twittering, girlish laugh escaping her own lips as she speaks. “Spoken like a true cupid!”
“And what are my two favourite ladies plotting?” a male voice with its round tones slightly slurred by champagne pipes up.
“Oh Gerald!” gasps his mother, clasping her chest and wheezing again. “You scared me.”
“Sorry Mummy.”
“Gerald,” Lady Sadie greets him with a stiff and curt nod.
“We were just talking about dear Lettice and that nice gentleman, Selwyn Spencely.” Lady Gwyneth gushes quietly. “They do seem to have,” She pauses as she thinks for the right words. “Hit it off. That is what you Bright Young Things say, isn’t it? To hit it off?”
“I think it was used long before we started using it, Mummy.” Gerald replies, smiling at his mother. He turns and gives Lady Sadie a decidedly colder and calculating look, swaying on the spot slightly as he clutches his half empty champagne flute. “Plotting the wedding, are we Lady Sadie?”
“Oh Gerald,” his mother scoffs kindly. “We were just saying what a sweet couple they make. Don’t you think so too?”
Just at that moment, the two Miss Evanses, the spinster sisters who live in Holland House, a Seventeenth Century manor house in the village, walk over to say their goodbyes to Lady Sadie, but not before engaging Lady Gwyneth in animated conversation, their twittering voices sounding like the crack of dried autumn leaves underfoot.
Gerald glances at the two old women, who must be in their seventies at least, one dressed as Little Bo-Peep complete with shepherdess’ crook and the other as Miss Muffet with a hand crocheted spider dangling from her wrist, both looking more like tragic pantomime dames than anything else and makes sure that his mother is fully engaged with them before commenting on Lettice and Selwyn. “Delightful,” Gerald replies to Lady Sadie in a flat voice, not even glancing over to where Lettice and Selwyn sit, instead holding Lady Sadie’s gaze in his own.
Not to be intimidated, the Edwardian matron looks back at him hostilely. “I didn’t take you for a bad loser, Gerald.” she says crisply.
“A bad loser, Lady Chetwynd?” Gerald sinks down slightly clumsily into the chair next to the sofa upon which the two ladies sit. “Me?”
“You, Gerald.” Lady Sadie answers in clearly enunciated syllables, her eyes narrowing and her mouth pursing bitterly as she does.
“What have I to be a bad loser about, Lady Chetwynd?”
“I should have thought that was obvious. Why, Lettice and Mr. Spencely of course. You always were on the bitter side, even as a child, if Lettice made a new friend who threatened you in her affections.”
“Lettice and Selwyn?” he snorts derisively. “I think not.”
“Oh, don’t play coy with me, Gerald. You’ve been vying for my daughter’s attentions for years: monopolising her at functions and spending more time in her flat than your own from what I can gather.”
“My, Lady Chetwynd,” Gerald sighs. “What clever little spies have you found to infiltrate our lives in London? You really are barking up the wrong proverbial tree with your ideas about Lettice and I. We are friends only, close friends – best friends perhaps – but friends only.”
“You’ve been a bad influence on her,” Lady Sadie continues, lowering her voice so that her friend beside her won’t accidentally hear her insulting words directed towards her son whilst she chats with the Miss Evanses. “I even had to warn her away from you for this evening, so that more eligible young men might stand a better chance of turning her head with you out of the way.”
“Ahh, but I did take her away from Howl… err… Jonty Hastings. I had to save her from his unwanted attentions.”
“Well, be that as it may, Jonty Hastings is no loss. His expectations are nothing in comparison to Mr. Spencely’s.” She waves her glove clad hand in the pair’s general direction. “My daughter could be a future duchess with all going well.”
Gerald leans against the armrest of his chair and starts sniggering as he continues to look incredulously at Lady Sadie.
“What are you laughing at, Gerald?” Lady Sadie snaps.
“You, Lady Chetwynd,” Gerald smiles, snorting as he smothers his chortling less than successfully. “You and your ridiculous schemes.”
“Me… my…” Lady Sadie splutters.
“Oh it’s not that I don’t think that Selwyn and Lettice don’t make a nice couple. They do. But I’d advise you not to matchmake them.” He wags his finger admonishingly at Lady Sadie before continuing rather mysteriously “Don’t forget, I know Selwyn and his family far better than you do, Lady Chetwynd.”
“How dare you!” the old matron hisses, her face draining of colour so that her pallor is as white as her costume. “The impudence!”
“Sorry Lady Chetwynd, but it’s true. The duchess has plans that don’t include Lettice.”
“The duchess?”
“Lady Zinnia: Selwyn’s mother.”
“Lady Zinnia?”
“Yes, I should have thought her distain of you was evident from her obvious snub of you.”
“Gerald, how much of my husband’s champagne have you drunk?” She scowls at him.
“Not enough yet, and certainly not enough to fail noticing Lady Zinnia’s absence from your ball.”
“She’s unwell. A chest cold.” Lady Sadie defends. When Gerald simply nods, cocking a knowing eyebrow as he does, she continues. “Mr. Spencely told me himself. He’s come from her bedside.”
“That must have been a very quick onset of her chest cold, since she was at the theatre with Selwyn on Thursday night.”
“One has heard of such occurrences, Gerald.”
“She must be losing her touch if she couldn’t keep him at home this evening.” When Gerald sees the lack of understanding in Lady Sadie’s flint hard eyes as they bore into him with undisguised hostility, he adds. “You see, when she accepts invitations out of politeness, Lady Zinnia always makes her excuses.” He smiles in a slightly lopsided way. “And when it is an invitation extended to her son for a potentially undesirous match between him and a less than suitable girl, she usually manages to distract him with a made up malady to keep him at home.”
“Gerald, how dare you say such things!” Lady Sadie’s face goes from porcelain white to flushed red as rage surges within her. “You claim you are Lettice’s friend, yet this is how you speak of her? I pity her if you are any gauge of her friends.”
“On the contrary, I’m paying Lettice a compliment, for if Selwyn managed to get here in spite of his mother’s protestations, he must really have wanted to meet her again after all these years.”
“Do you know what I think, Gerald?” Lady Sadie places her glass on the table before her.
“I suspect that you are going to share your insights with me, even if I don’t wish to hear them, Lady Chetwynd.”
She turns fully towards him, leaning heavily upon her own arm rest as she squares her shoulders. “I think you are just a nasty, bitter man, Gerald Bruton. You are angry with the world because of the cards you have been dealt in life. You’re the second son of a family in dire financial circumstances, so your chances of making an advantageous match are nigh on impossible.”
“You may be right, Lady Chetwynd, which is why I enjoy the largess of others so much,” He holds up his nearly empty champagne flute. “You and your daughter included, thank you. And you may also be right that I am bitter about how my life has turned out thus far. I probably shouldn’t have said to you the things I have, and in hindsight I shall doubtless regret it. However, I’m not saying these things to hurt you Lady Chetwynd. Truly I’m not.” He looks at her as intently as he can manage. “I am saying them as a warning to you, so you can stop this ridiculous match before poor Lettice gets hurt. Selwyn is lovely, and he may fall in love with Lettice and she him, but I hope not, for it is Lady Zinnia who will have the final say as to who Selwyn marries. And Lettice is not in the running, Lady Sadie.” He drains the remnants of his champagne from his glass. “And now, if you will excuse me, gracious hostess, I am going to press upon your generosity yet again and fill my glass with your good champagne.” He tries to stand, but makes a false start, slumping back into his seat.
Lady Sadie seizes her chance and turns back to Lady Gwyneth, who is still being held in the court of the Miss Evanses. “Oh Miss Evans, Miss Evans, are you going?” She looks up with an expectant look into their faces. Then, without waiting for a reply, she excuses herself and turns to Lady Gwyneth. “Excuse me my dear,” she hisses quietly. “But I think Gerald has imbibed just a little bit much this evening. I think you and Edmund might take him home.”
“Oh no.” Lady Gwyneth looks beyond her friend’s shoulder and sees Gerald stand up and wobble slightly. “Oh, you’re right.” She pats Lady Sadie’s hands. “Thank you my dear for keeping an eye on him, and thank you so much for such a lovely evening.” She elicits another wheezing cough from deep within her rasping chest as she rises to her feet. “I say again, I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”
As Lady Sadie turns her attentions to the Miss Evanses, Lady Gwyneth moves over and carefully wraps her arm through her youngest son’s, securing him firmly in spite of her own fragility. “Come Gerald. I think you’ve had enough. Don’t you agree?” she asks kindly as she looks up to his rather sad face with brilliant eyes made even more brilliant by unshed tears flooding them. “We really should be going. What with your father and your brother making nuisances of themselves around the neighbourhood, the last thing our family name can afford is you making a scene at the event of the county’s social season. Now come along.”
“Oh I wasn’t making a scene,” Gerald defends himself, his slurring words giving away his level of inebriation. “I was just telling old Lady Sadie over there some home truths.”
“Yes, well,” Lady Gwyneth remarks, patting his hand comfortingly whilst steering her impressionable son away from their hostess and the romantic looking Lettice and Selwyn. “That’s not a good thing either. You know Sadie doesn’t like being told anything she doesn’t want to hear. Now let’s go home, assuming the old pile hasn’t fallen in on itself out of sheer exhaustion in our absence.”
The pair slowly walk away, taking deliberate steps around the perimeter of the slowly emptying dance floor, nodding goodnight to acquaintances and friends.
*A bonheur de jour is a type of lady's writing desk. It was introduced in Paris by one of the interior decorators and purveyors of fashionable novelties called marchands-merciers around 1760, and speedily became intensely fashionable. Decorated on all sides, it was designed to sit in the middle of a room so that it could be admired from any angle.
This grand Georgian interior may appear like something out of a historical stately country house, but it is in fact part of my 1:12 miniatures collection and includes items from my childhood, as well as those I have collected as an adult.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The gilt Louis Quatorze chair and sofa, and the gilt swan pedestals and round table are made by the high-end miniature furniture maker, Bespaq.
The savoury petite fours on the gilt white porcelain plate have been made in England by hand from clay by former chef turned miniature artisan, Frances Knight. Her work is incredibly detailed and realistic, and she says that she draws her inspiration from her years as a chef and her imagination. Each petit four is only five millimetres in diameter and between five and eight millimetres in height! The selection includes egg and lettuce, Beluga caviar and salmon and cucumber. The two glasses of sparkling champagne are made of real glass and were made by Karen Ladybug Miniatures in the United Kingdom. The silver champagne bucket is made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. The bottle of Deutz and Geldermann champagne. It is an artisan miniatures and made of glass and has real foil wrapped around its neck. It was made by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire.
The floral arrangements in urns on top of the pedestals consist of pink roses, white asters and white Queen Anne’s Lace. Both are unmarked, but were made by an American miniature artisan and their pieces have incredible attention to detail.
The Palladian console table (one of a pair) to the right of the photo, with its golden caryatids and marble was commissioned by me from American miniature artisan Peter Cluff. Peter specialises in making authentic and very realistic high quality 1:12 miniatures that reflect his interest in Georgian interior design. His work is highly sought after by miniature collectors worldwide. This pair of tables are one-of-a-kind and very special to me.
The gilt blue and white vase on the console table comes from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House in the United Kingdom. It is filled with a mixture of roses made by hand by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering. A second vase of roses to match is in the immediate foreground to the left of the photo. The candelabras hanging on the wall also come from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House.
All the paintings around the Glynes ballroom in their gilded frames are 1:12 artisan pieces made by V.H. Miniatures in the United Kingdom and the wallpaper of the ballroom antechamber is an authentic copy of hand-painted Georgian wallpaper from the 1770s.
The marquetry floor of the room is in fact a wooden chessboard. The chessboard was made by my Grandfather, a skilful and creative man in 1952. Two chess sets, a draughts set and three chess boards made by my Grandfather were bequeathed to me as part of his estate when he died a few years ago.
With the exception of continuing on to additional hills it is unusual for me to change the route of a hike. In this case I had started off by the road mid right in this image but had struggled with through the unstable rocks, rubble and spiky bushes. At one point there was a very rough and steep scramble through a great rock field (think the summit plateau of Scafell Pike at forty five degrees with rocks twice the size). Often it is the descent that provides more scope for injury and not wanting to increase my chances of taking a tumble on the return route I chose instead to take the much shorter descent to the road seen bottom left. It doesn't look much from this viewpoint but it too was pretty troublesome. Once reached I was more than content making the additional walk back to the car on the tarmac. This view was taken from a perch just short of the summit of La Sombrere.
The lay of eta land makes this scene look rather lopsided, but that is an optical illusion as can be seen from the distant horizon.
The city tree trimming group (or a group hired out by the city) showed up in the afternoon to trim this tree back. Too bad these guys don't have a pattern to their work. They really hacked away at this old tree. Twice in five years branches have dropped off due to their heavy weight. The last time (a month ago) the branch landed in between two vehicles, but neither one was damaged. Five years ago, that wasn't the case. The only good thing about the larger branch back then was that it landed on a car that the owner was going to try to sell off for $1800, or best offer. So much for that.
If it looks a bit uneven and lopsided, it's because there is another tree next to it, and it wasn't worked on at all. I have a closer shot that I will post later, so you can see how it looks from that angle.
Yes, the nest was actually that lopsided. To be honest, I'm not sure if they are waiting for Junior or if Junior has already come and gone.
Aquilegia (Columbine) flower.
I’ve noticed before that aquilegia flowers are interesting in black and white, particularly if you play about with the lighting balance and used a colour filter in the conversion. So I thought I’d have another go, while not being entirely sure where I’d end up.
This was taken last June using my 50mm lens which has lovely soft bokeh. It was taken up into the light, trying to get the detail in the stamens, hence the funny angle.
This was about the best I took in the series of clicks. There was not really enough detail or contrast in the image for it to work in colour but I thought I could make something of it in monochrome if I went for a dreamy look.
So this is where I got to :)
Thank you for taking the time to look. I hope you enjoy the image. Happy Flora Friday :)
[Handheld in daylight.
Developed in Photolab 3 trying to balance (= rescue) a good tonal range and create a contrast between the magentas of the flower and the blue/green detail in the background, to give the B&W conversion some options to work with.
Reduced clarity to soften the look and increased Microcontrast to emphasise the stamens.
In Affinity cropped to improve the composition (the image was lopsided probably because I was underneath not seeing what I was doing!).
A bit of work with Shadows and Highlights and Brightness/Contrast.
Reduced Clarity; sharpened with Unsharp Mask, and selectively sharpened the stamens are with a masked High Pass/Linear blend layer at slightly reduced opacity.
Into Nik Silver Efex starting with a preset I had created for my friend Ewa as a demonstration. Used a colour filter to get the balance between the flower, the background and the stems into something appealing.
Used one of the film types to adjust colour sensitivity in the conversion, and add a little grain.
Split toned in soft peach/blue to get quite a strong effect… perhaps too strong lol. The last few split tones have been cool so I wanted a change...
Added one of the borders but altered its width so that it was black all around on the outside edge of the border.
And there we are. A dreamy, impressiony effect :)]
ok, I couldn't think of a better title and don't ask me where this one came from. I thought this had a bit of a hooker look to it LOL!!!!!!!
I also looks as though I have one flat boob and one very round one hee hee!
Ooooh and I'm so piddled off that my new memory card hasn't arrived today. I've taken no new pics since Friday arghhhhhhhhhh!!!!
Please do view me large on black!
Another one from last week's evening in town, in the cold. The original version (see below) looked a little lopsided with just one fountain, so I thought I'd try this reflected version. It's maybe a little over processed in Photoshop 7.0, but as I had it loaded up anyway for the reflection and to skew the lines straight, I thought I might as well take it a little further.
I'm delighted by the detail and symmetry in the very centre of the image which only really comes out in Lightbox so, whilst I feel terrible imposing on people as to how they might want to view it, I'd really recommend firing it up full size by hitting "L". I hope you like it!
Having whinged in several posts about (supposed) Terror regulations in London and the interference of security guards and so forth, I have to say that the Police in Trafalgar Square are fantastic. They were a very nice presence after a few (as yet unposted) nights out and about terrifying myself in fields, woods and towns!
Hope everyone had a fantastic weekend and look forward to seeing your stuff now I'm home!
Monument to Sir Robert Steward (d.1570) in the south choir aisle.
Ely Cathedral is in the top rank of the great English cathedrals, and indeed earns its place among the best of medieval churches internationally for its unique architecture and astonishing beauty. It is a church I've visited several times over the years and never fails to impress, its form at once imposing and strikingly individual. Owing to the flatness of the surrounding countryside it is visible from afar as a major landmark, which makes approaching this tiny city all the more enticing.
The church was founded as an abbey by St Etheldreda in 672 and didn't achieve cathedral status until the foundation of the diocese in 1109. Much of the present building dates from the following years, with the nave and transepts still substantially as they were built (aside from a few altered windows and later ceilings) and a fine example of Norman / Romanesque architecture. A little later during the 1170s the soaring west tower and western transepts were added which would have created a magnificent facade when complete and of a type rarely seen in this country. The style is richer with more use of ornamentation than before, but also many of the arches (particularly the upper parts of the tower) are pointed, making it an early example of the transition to Gothic (the octagonal top storey is from two centuries later, but follows the original overall plan in form, if not detail). The north-west transept however collapsed in the late 15th century and was never rebuilt, leaving the front of the cathedral will the curiously lopsided but not unattractive west front we see today. The Galilee porch that projects from the base of the tower dates from the beginning of the 13th century, only a few decades later but now fully Gothic in style.
The Norman eastern limb had been fairly short so the next major building phases saw the great eastward extension of the presbytery built in Gothic style in 1234-50. It makes an interesting contrast with the earlier parts of the building being so rich in style, externally punctuated with pinnacles and flying buttresses and profusely ornamented withing, making the Romanesque nave and transepts seem somewhat austere by comparison. Then in 1321 an ambitious new lady chapel was begun at the north-east corner, but soon afterwards work was delayed by unforeseen events.
In 1322 the old Norman central tower collapsed, bringing down with it most of the old Romanesque choir (but not the recently built presbytery beyond). The aftermath left the cathedral with a gaping hole at its heart, but this must have inspired those charged with its recovery, and under the direction of Alan of Walsingham the crossing was rebuilt in a unique way; rather than build a new tower of a similar form the central piers that supported it were entirely cleared away along with the adjoining bay of nave, transepts and choir to create a much larger octagonal central space. This then rose to become the unique central tower that Ely is so famous for, the Octagon, a combination of a lower octagonal tower built of stone crowned by a delicate lantern built of wood and covered with lead externally. The result is an incredible, piece of architecture, and the view inside of the open space rising to the curved vaults above on which the glazed lantern appears to float is unforgettable.
After the Octagon and beautifully spacious and richly adorned Lady Chapel were completed there was no more major work at the cathedral. The transept roofs were replaced in the 15th century with the wooden hammerbeam structures we see today, adorned with large angel figures in the East Anglian tradition. The most significant late medieval additions are the two sumptuously decorated chantry chapels built within the end of each choir aisle, each a riot of later medieval ornament and Bishop West's also being remarkable for its fusion of Gothic and Renaissance detail. The cloister appears to have been rebuilt at a similar stage though sadly very little of it survives today.
Sadly the Reformation saw a wave of iconoclasm of particular ferocity unleashed here in Ely. The most telling reminder is the Lady Chapel with its richly ornamented arcading carved with hundreds of small scenes and figures, all brutally beheaded (not a single head survives). Free standing statues in niches have all gone without trace, but in the case of Bishop West's chantry chapel the topmost figures were carved in relief, so these were hammered away leaving the mutilated remains as a testament to zealotry and intolerance. Most of the stained glass appears to have also been removed around this time, so there was surprisingly little damage here during the Civil War a century later as the Puritan frenzy had already been unleashed.
A corner of the north transept collapsed in 1699 but was rebuilt almost identically, a rare early example of such an exacting approach to reconstruction. The classical form of a window and doorway below are the only reminders of the rebuilding, some say with advice from Christopher Wren whose uncle had been bishop here decades earlier (Wren knew the cathedral as a result, and the Octagon is believed to have inspired his plans for St Paul's, as the ground plans of the Octagon and his domed central space at St Paul's are remarkably similar).
The cathedral saw further changes in the 18th century when the structure was in need of repair. James Essex was called in to repair the Octagon and the wooden lantern was stabilised but its external was appearance simplified by stripping away much of its original detail. The medieval choir stalls had originally sat directly underneath the Octagon with painted walls on either side, but these were removed at this time and the stalls relocated further east to the position they are in now. Sadly the Norman pulpitum screen at the end of the nave was also removed (the earliest of its kind to survive in any cathedral).
By the mid 19th century tastes had changed again and the Victorian preference for richness over Georgian austerity saw the cathedral restored under the direction of George Gilbert Scott. He restored the Octagon lantern to something much closer to its original appearance and added new screens at the crossing and behind the altar. Stained glass gradually filled the cathedral again and it remains one of the richest collections of Victorian glass in the country. The ceiling of the nave which had been left plain for centuries was given a new richly painted finish with scenes from the Old & New Testaments, begun by Henry le Strange but finished by Thomas Gambier Parry after the former had died halfway through the project. Gambier Parry also undertook the lavish redecoration of the interior of the Octagon lantern.
The cathedral has remained little changed since and is one of the rewarding in the country. There is much of beauty to enjoy here beyond the architecture, with many interesting tombs and monuments from the medieval and post-Reformation periods. There is a wealth of stained glass of unusual richness; not everyone appreciates Victorian glass (indeed Alec Clifton Taylor was quite scathing about the glass here) but while it is very mixed I find much of it is of remarkably high quality.
Since 1972 the Stained Glass Museum has been housed in the nave triforium (originally on the north side, it was later transferred to the south where it currently remains). This is the only collection in the country solely devoted to the medium and is a great ambassador for it, with fine pieces covering a range of styles and illustrating the development of the art through the various backlit panels on show in the gallery.
Visitors can usually take tours to ascend the Octagon and even the west tower on more select days. Tours do get booked up though so it took me many visits before I could make my ascent, but happily this time I finally managed it and it was a wonderful experience I won't forget. Frustratingly I was unable to ascend the west tower since I was at a symposium on the day when tours were held so I hope to have better luck next time.
For more historical detail and context see below:-
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ely_Cathedral
For entry fees and tower tours see the cathedral's website below:-
A person, who values the beauty of nature and ambient in the world, for richer and happier than those, who did not notices this.
My new novel:
B♭ (Be Flat)
Dropping more content! 😃
(Still not finalized yet.)
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Scene: Madison Square Garden 2
A low murmur swept down the avenue in front of the Garden as a black lead sedan and a fleet of white motorcycle escorts slowly rolled in. Four armored limousines followed, flanked by NYPD and state police SUVs. Behind them trailed a line of communication trucks, ambulances, and news vans—no more than fifty vehicles in all, but the weight of their presence was overwhelming.
The motorcade moved as if traffic signals held no meaning. The street had been completely shut down, and the convoy advanced in perfect synchrony. Police radio chatter leaked from the vehicles, while the blocked-off sidewalks were crowded with reporters clutching cameras and riot police standing firm. Near the center, three jet-black SUVs carried CAT operatives, their eyes scanning the street like silent sentinels from behind suppressor-equipped rifles.
On top of the limousines, state-of-the-art jamming devices disrupted all outside signals. Trailing them was a “Roadrunner” communications command vehicle bristling with antennas, maintaining real-time encrypted communication with the command center beneath the Garden.
At the tail end were fire department rapid response units, a hazmat vehicle, and two ambulances. The arrival of a presidential candidate was no longer a mere movement—it was a military operation. The city responded like a living neural network, absorbing and adjusting to the convoy’s every move.
Onlookers lined the barricades—civilians raising smartphones overhead, and journalists with grim faces behind their lenses. No one spoke. The crowd stood in solemn silence, bathed in the red and blue pulses of rotating lights, watching as the procession swept past like a scene from a film. But this wasn’t a movie. The silence was real. No one dared crack a joke.
Sniper teams were stationed on rooftops around the Garden. Occasionally, the word “clear” crackled over the comms. Inside the building, only those who had passed facial recognition were permitted to take position. In the chilled surveillance room where Jack sat, hundreds of camera feeds rotated every few seconds across the screens.
Inside the presumed presidential limousine, darkness cloaked everything—no figures visible behind the glass. Yet everyone on-site knew those clear windows hid layers of invisible defense. That silence, designed to preserve life, carried with it a deadly order that blanketed the entire convoy.
Overhead, two Black Hawk helicopters glided in low and began to hover above the Garden. They were escape vessels, should the worst occur—but more than that, they were a reminder that this place was, for tonight, a battlefield.
In the command room on the Garden’s B3 level, Jack sat under the blue glow of the monitors, listening intently to the radio in his ear.
“Eagle has arrived. Parking complete on B3. Zebra point passed. T-minus 45 seconds to approach.”
The voice in his earpiece made him bite his lip unconsciously. The coffee in his cup had long gone cold.
Onscreen, the divided camera feeds displayed the barricades on Seventh Avenue, snipers in standby, and now—the black limousine sliding into the underground garage.
The air tightened. Time became tangible. The tick of the second hand grew louder in everyone’s ears. Jack’s fingers trembled slightly as they reached for the radio button.
Scene: Madison Square Garden 1
Jack shifted the donut box in his hand and pressed the button for B3. The air in the elevator was cold, and he wiped the sweat from his brow as he watched the lights descend. The contrast with the heat above made his vision blur slightly.
Stepping out, he turned right. Immediately on the left was the briefing room door, where a security man in a rumpled suit greeted him.
“Everyone’s already waiting.”
Jack stood before the sensor and calmly turned his face toward it. A few seconds later, a mechanical chime signaled access approval, and the heavy fireproof doors slid open.
Once inside, Jack offered a small smile.
“I brought donuts. Make sure everyone gets some later.”
The security man grinned behind his sunglasses.
Beyond the thick soundproof door, 32 monitors glowed blue in the dim room. Staff members moved briskly and silently between the machines. The hum of servers filled the space, punctuated only by the occasional alert. In the center was the commander’s seat, surrounded in a ring by workstations. The wall-sized screen displayed rapid live cuts from over 400 arena cameras—spectator stands, lobby, corridors, VIP lounge, loading dock, backstage, utility room, underground passages…
If a single rat appeared in those tunnels, they’d be able to track it straight to the sewers.
Jack sat in the commander’s chair and flipped the switch on the gooseneck mic in front of him. Its flexible neck trembled as the red indicator light came on.
“I’ve got donuts. Sorry, no glazed. There’s Boston Cream, Chocolate Frosted, Strawberry Frosted, and Old-Fashioned. No coffee, so grab your own.”
“Old-Fashioned for me,” came Ben’s voice from the loading dock. He adjusted the transparent tube of his earpiece and muttered into his collar.
Jack gave a faint smile, then grew serious again as he leaned toward the mic.
“Eagle is about to arrive. Entering through Ben’s loading dock. Three minutes to VIP room. Fifteen-minute briefing. Then onstage. Let me remind you—tonight marks the official nomination of the presidential candidate at the National Convention. First Republican convention held here in over twenty years. Also, his fiancée, Eleanor Blake, is with him. Stunning and brilliant. Try not to fall for her. The only ones you’re allowed to admire are bulky bruisers in tactical gear. And don’t forget, VP candidate Cole Harrison is here too—he’s the leash on our foul-mouthed Justin. No matter what he says, don’t punch back. I’ll be the one getting punched later.”
Jack checked his watch.
“One minute out. When Justin’s team heads home, dig into the donuts. Over and out.”
From the monitor showing the VIP lounge, Daryl spoke up behind him.
“Jack, better check in with Elijah at the hospital. Make sure he’s on standby.”
Without turning, Jack raised his hand and called out.
“Elijah, you copy? Daryl thinks you’re chilling at Starbucks.”
Laughter came through the speaker, followed by the chaotic background noise of Bellevue Hospital.
“Daryl, how’d you know? I was just thinking of getting Jack fired.”
Swiveling in his chair, Daryl laughed back at the screen.
“Let’s hope Justin doesn’t end up in your ER.”
Jack cut in.
“All stations, go. Justin’s here. Stick to the plan. Let’s move.”
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Scene: Madison Square Garden 3 — Justin, Eleanor, Cole
The door of the limousine opened from within, and Justin Bradford stepped out with a short sigh.
“Damn. It’s suffocating down here. Even a stray dog would turn up its nose at this parking garage.”
He brushed off the hem of his suit jacket with one hand, casting a grimace toward the concrete gloom.
Vice presidential candidate Cole Harrison followed quietly behind. Eight years older than Justin, Cole had once stood by Justin’s father, Lysus Bradford—through every rally and protest, until the day Lysus, still registered as a Democrat, was gunned down by a sniper. Cole had admired Lysus deeply for his commitment to voicing the will of the unheard.
Justin yawned, wide and unfiltered. Cole spoke gently beside him.
“This was the safest option. Too many unknowns outside. It’s dangerous.”
“Cole, you’re the biggest unknown we’ve got.”
“And that makes two of us, Justin,” Cole replied with a small, knowing smile.
The click of white heels echoed faintly as Eleanor Blake stepped onto the stained concrete. She wore a pale beige coat over her dress and moved with quiet elegance. Though her brow creased slightly at the stagnant air, she quickly replaced it with a smile and walked toward Justin.
“Justin,” she said, her voice gentle yet firm, “no more jokes at the staff’s expense. These people would lay down their lives for you.”
Justin gave a small, lopsided smile and brushed a kiss against her cheek.
“For their sake, I better live up to it.”
Flanked by security, the three of them began walking down the dim corridor. Faint LED lights flickered overhead. Dirty walls, cold silence, and a chill that crept under their skin accompanied them.
“These hallways always get to me,” Justin muttered.
“I understand,” Eleanor said softly. “But this is the safest route.”
“That’s exactly why we should be grateful,” Cole added. “It’s this kind of space that protects us.”
Eventually, they reached the elevator reserved for dignitaries. The face recognition system chirped quietly as it confirmed their identities.
“Just a few more steps to the VIP lounge,” said one of the agents.
Justin glanced back at Eleanor and shrugged.
“Let’s shake the Garden tonight.”
She touched his arm lightly and smiled.
“I’m counting on you, Justin.”
The three of them stepped into the elevator, the doors closing quietly behind them as it carried them upward.
Scene: Totto Ramen — Ana, Mika, Motorcade
— Red, Yellow, Blue —
It was just after 7 p.m. when a light rain began to fall on East 52nd Street.
Ana leaned against the wall of an old building next to Totto Ramen, absently watching the changing traffic light at the intersection to her right. The air was heavy with humid heat clinging to the concrete, making even the pedestrians seem to move slower than usual.
The signal turned green. As she dabbed her forehead with a handkerchief and squinted into the distance, she spotted Kana on the far side of the crosswalk, waving and running toward her with a smile.
Then, suddenly, the air shifted.
From the far side of the intersection, a fleet of black SUVs glided in, soundless and ghostlike. In the few dozen seconds between the lead vehicle’s arrival and the armored limousine at the rear disappearing, the entire intersection was sealed off—no one passed.
As the convoy disappeared down the avenue, the signal changed again. Foot traffic resumed. The city inhaled.
Kana reemerged from the crowd and waved once more.
After wrapping up their exhibit, Ana and Mika had packed their gear into Mika’s car and headed into Manhattan. Ana’s husband, Arjun, worked at LuminaTech Innovations—a hybrid company based in Williamsburg specializing in AI, cloud services, and cybersecurity. Though it was his day off, he’d had a meeting in Hudson Yards and was on a separate schedule from Ana.
Totto Ramen was nearby, and ever since Mika had first brought her there, it had become a favorite for Ana and Arjun alike.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. It’s been such a lovely day,” Mika said, slightly out of breath.
By “lovely,” she meant the two sharply dressed men from that morning, still lingering in their thoughts.
Ana answered with mild disinterest.
“Was it? That your type, Mika?”
Mika shrugged and smiled.
“Mm, I like someone close enough that I can run home to my parents if I need to.”
They laughed as they slid open the ramen shop’s wooden door and took seats at the counter. The place was bustling with Asian families enjoying their weekend. Familiar Japanese drifted from the far end of the counter.
Ana’s iPhone buzzed. It was a video call from Arjun.
She tapped the screen. His apologetic face appeared.
“The meeting’s running long. Go ahead and eat without me.”
Ana smiled gently.
“Be careful. A whole swarm of black cars just swept through here.”
Arjun responded immediately.
“They’re probably heading to the Garden. There’s supposed to be a Republican convention tonight. The candidate’s making his appearance.”
Mika, having caught the gist, nodded deeply.
“Yeah, it’s felt weird all day. The city’s tense—not your usual weekend.”
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Scene: Red Hook 1 — Amir and Rafi
Red Hook stood apart, even within Brooklyn.
Shielded by the shadows of skyscrapers, the red-brick warehouses, worn by wind and rain, groaned softly in the breeze. Each gust from the sea layered fresh salt onto the air, leaving streaks of rust blooming along the warehouse doors.
Beyond a broken fence, a long-unused warehouse door creaked open.
Amir stepped inside, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The smell of oil soaked into the concrete filled his nostrils.
“Let’s start here,” he said.
Rafi nodded without a word.
They had first come to this place five winters ago.
Having lost everything in Gaza at the hands of Israel, the two had fled legally through Egypt and Turkey, eventually arriving in Tapachula in southern Mexico. There, they made contact with a smuggler known as a coyote.
Rafi paid $12,000 per person to the traffickers—using cryptocurrency hacked through North Korean channels. The coins had been stolen through a North Korea–linked hacking syndicate. Amir wrote the code himself and erased all trace of the transaction. They had crossed borders not with blood, but with digits.
Later, under cover of night, they slipped beneath a border fence and entered the United States by land.
The night sky over Texas was a shade of dark blue they had never seen before. Low and clear, the deep blue held a fleeting kind of hope. But that hope was far outweighed by the hatred that had taken root in their hearts.
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Set in New York City.
1
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54599616429/in/dateposted...
2
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54628511025/in/dateposted...
Note: I gave a brief explanation of this novel in the following video:
youtu.be/3w65lqUF-YI?si=yG7qy6TPeCL9xRJV
iTunes Playlist Link::
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b/pl.u-47DJGhopxMD
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Notes
1. "Bombay Blood Type (hh type)"
•Characteristics: A rare blood type that lacks the usual ABO antigens — cannot be classified as A, B, or O.
•Discovery: First identified in 1952 in Mumbai, India (formerly Bombay).
•Prevalence: Roughly 1 in 10,000 people in India; globally, about 1 in 2.5 million.
•Transfusion Compatibility: Only compatible with blood from other Bombay type donors.
2. 2024 Harvard University Valedictorian Speech – The Power of Not Knowing
youtu.be/SOUH8iVqSOI?si=Ju-Y728irtcWR71K
3. Shots Fired at Trump Rally
youtu.be/1ejfAkzjEhk?si=ASqJwEmkY-2rW_hT
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Saipan. USA. 2016. LUMIX G3 shot … 4 / X
サイパン。アメリカ。２０１６。LUMIX G3 shot … 4 / X
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僕の新しい小説。
B♭ （ビーフラット）
さらに投下します。😃
(まだ決定ではありません。)
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場面 マディソンスクエアガーデン２
ガーデン正面の通りがわずかにざわめき、先導の黒いセダンと白バイク隊がゆっくりと進入してきた。次いで装甲に覆われたリムジンが４台つづき、市警と州警のSUVがその脇を固め、後方には通信車両、救急車、そして報道バンの列…… 全部でざっと５０台にも満たないが、その重厚感は圧倒的だった――。
車列は信号すら意味をなさず、完全に遮断された通りを、隊列の呼吸に従って前進していく。警察無線の交信が車外に漏れ、通行止めの歩道にはカメラを構えた記者と機動隊員が混じり合っていた。中腹には「CAT」と呼ばれる武装部隊が乗る漆黒のSUVが３台並び、サプレッサー付きライフルを持った隊員が、まるで車内から通りをスキャンするように視線を動かしている。
リムジンの天井には、最新の妨害電波装置が搭載され、外部通信を一時的に遮断する。さらにその後方を、アンテナが林立した“ロードランナー”と呼ばれる通信司令車が追走し、ガーデン地下の指揮室とリアルタイムで暗号通信を続けている。
車列の最後尾には消防局の緊急対応車、化学物質対応車、そして２台の救急車が控えていた。大統領候補がこの都市に足を踏み入れるというのは、もはや“移動”ではなく、“軍事行動”のようだった。街全体が、ひとつの生きた神経網のように、その動線を受け止めていた。
歩道の柵沿いには、スマートフォンを高く掲げる市民と、顔を強張らせた報道カメラマンたちが入り混じっていた。群衆は押し黙り、ただエンジンのうなりと回転灯の光に照らされながら、目の前を通り過ぎる車列を見守っていた。まるで映画のワンシーンのようだが、空気は静まり返り、誰一人として軽口を叩く者はいない。
ガーデン周辺の屋上には狙撃班が配備され、時折、無線越しに「クリア」の声が交錯した。建物内の全階層には顔認証を通過した要員だけが配置され、冷房の効いたジャックのいる監視室では、数百台のカメラ映像が数秒ごとに切り替わっている。
大統領候補が乗ると目されるリムジンの車内は暗く、ガラス越しに人影すら映らない。だが、その曇りのない窓には、目に見えない幾重もの防御層が仕込まれていることを、現場の誰もが理解していた。命を守るために設計された沈黙と、殺気を孕んだ秩序が、車列全体を覆っている。
背後から、２機のブラックホークが上空をなめるように飛来し、ガーデンの屋上でホバリングを始めた。万が一の脱出手段であり、また、この場が“戦場”であることを暗に示す存在だった。
ジャックは、ガーデン地下三階の指令室で、モニターの青白い光に顔を照らされながら、無線に耳を傾けていた。
「イーグル、地下駐車場レベルB3にて停車完了。ポイント・ゼブラ通過。接近までTマイナス45秒」
耳元のイヤーピースから流れるその声に、彼は無意識に唇を噛んだ。手元のカップに入ったコーヒーは、すでにぬるくなっていた。
モニターには分割されたカメラ映像がずらりと並んでいる。第七通りのバリケード、スタンバイ中の狙撃手、そして今、地下駐車場の入口に黒いリムジンが滑り込む様子が映し出されていた。
空気が一気に張り詰めた。誰もが秒針の音を意識し始め、静寂の中に微かな緊張が走った。ジャックの指が、わずかに震えながらも無線の送信ボタンに触れた。
場面 マディソンスクエアガーデン１
エレベーターに乗ったジャックは、手にしたドーナツの箱を持ち替えると、地下三階へのボタンを押した。冷房の効いたエレベーター内で下っていくランプを見上げたまま、額の汗を拭った。熱した地上からの温度差で多少視界が滲んでいた。
降りて、右手に行くと、すぐ左側にブリーフィングルームの扉があり、よれたスーツを着たセキュリティーの男性がジャックに挨拶した。
「みなさん、もうお待ちですよ」
ジャックはセンサーの前に立ち、静かに顔を向けた。数秒後、「アクセス承認」の電子音とともに、重たい防火扉が左右に開いた。
クリアするとジャックは、口元を緩めていった。
「ドーナツ買ってきたよ。あとでみんなで食べてくれ」
セキュリティーの男性は、白い歯を見せ、サングラス越しに微笑んだ。
厚い防音扉を越えると、薄暗い空間に32面のモニターが青白く光っていた。スタッフが機器の合間を縫って、言葉少なに忙しなく行き交っていく。室内には低く唸るサーバーの音と、時折アラート音だけが響いている。部屋の中央には指揮官席、その周囲に円を描くように並んだワークステーション。壁面いっぱいの巨大スクリーンには、アリーナ内400台以上のカメラがライブ映像を忙しなく切り替え、流し続けている。客席、ロビー、通路、VIPラウンジ、搬入口、ステージ裏、電気設備室、地下通路….
もしも地下通路にねずみが一匹現れたら、下水溝まで追跡できるはずだ。
ジャックは指揮官席に腰を下ろし、前方に据え付けられたグースネックマイクのスイッチを押した。しなる首元がわずかに揺れ、赤いインジケーターが点灯した。
「みんな、ドーナツを買ってきた。残念ながらグレーズドは売り切れだった。ボストンクリーム、チョコフロステッド、ストロベリーフロステッド、オールドファッション、以上だ。コーヒーもないからな。勝手に飲むように」
「ジャック、俺はオールドファッションな」
搬入口にいるベンが、耳に伸びたセキュリティイヤピースの透明なチューブを整えながら、襟元に指を添え、モニター越しに呟いた。
ジャックは軽く微笑み返してから、声を整え、目の前のマイクに向かって、真剣に伝えた。
「まもなく、イーグルがやってくる。ベンのいる搬入口から入り、３分でVIPルームへ。１５分の打ち合わせ後、アリーナへ登壇する。もう一度確認するが、今夜は大統領候補の指名が正式に確定する全国党大会だ。共和党は、２０年以上振りにここで開催するらしい。それから、フィアンセのエリノア・ブレイクもいっしょだ。容姿端麗な才女だ。見惚れるなよ。お前らが見惚れていいのは筋肉隆々の荒くれものだけだ。さらに副大統領候補のコール・ハリソンもいっしょだ。口の悪いジャスティンのお目付役だ。何を言われても決して殴り返すな。俺があとで殴られるからな」
ジャックは腕時計を見た。
「あと１分で到着だ。ジャスティン一行が帰宅したら、ドーナツをたらふく食べてくれ。以上だ」
画面左側に映ったVIPラウンジに見入っていたダリルが、ジャックの背中にいった。
「ジャック、病院のイライジャにも確認したほうがいい。ちゃんと待機しているようにってね」
ジャックは背を向けたまま、腕を上げて返答するとイライジャに問いかけた。
「聞こえるか、イライジャ。お前がスタバでくつろいでると疑われてるぞ、ダリルに」
イライジャは、笑いながら即答した。背後に、ベルビュー病院内の忙しないアナウンスが走っている。のんびりしたイライジャの声とは正反対だ。
「ダリル、なんでばれた？ そろそろジャックの首を飛ばそうと思ってさ」
椅子を回転させたダリルは、右手のモニターに目を落としながら、イライジャに笑いながらいった。
「お前のところに、ジャスティンが運ばれないことを祈るよ」
ジャックは、二人の会話を遮った。
「全員、スタートだ。ジャスティンが到着した。打ち合わせどおりに。頼んだぞ」
場面 マディソンスクエアガーデン３ ジャスティン、エリノア、コール
リムジンのドアが内側から開き、ジャスティン・ブラッドフォードは短くため息をついて足を踏み出した。
「まったく、息が詰まるな。地下駐車場なんて、野良犬でも嫌がる」
スーツの裾を片手で乱暴に払いつつ、顔をしかめて辺りを見回した。その後ろから、副大統領候補のコール・ハリソンが静かに車を降りた。彼はジャスティンより8歳年上だったが、かつてはその父、ライサス・ブラッドフォードのもとで行動を共にし、彼が民主党に籍を置き、狙撃により命を落とすその時まで、傍らで支え続けていた。ライサスが声なき国民の想いを代弁しようとする姿に、コールは深い感銘を受けていた。
大きなあくびをこぼしたジャスティンに、コールは穏やかに言った。
「セキュリティ上の最善策だ。外は、あまりにも不確定要素が多い。危険だ」
「コールの言動の方がよほど先が読めないけどね」
「ジャスティン、そのままお前に返すよ」
ジャスティンの皮肉に、コールは軽く微笑みながら冷静に返した。
エリノア・ブレイクの白いハイヒールが、駐車場の暗いコンクリートに静かに降りた。淡いベージュのコートを羽織った彼女は、ヒールの音も控えめに、優雅に車外へ降り立った。地下の濁った空気に微かに眉を寄せながらも、すぐに笑みを浮かべ直し、ジャスティンに歩み寄った。
「ジャスティン、スタッフにつまらない冗談はやめてね。みんな、あなたのために命を投げ出す人たちよ」
彼女の声は柔らかいが、芯のあるものだった。
ジャスティンは少し顔をほころばせ、エリノアの頬に軽いキスをした。
「命か…なら、俺もその期待に応えないとな」
セキュリティーに囲われた三人は地下駐車場の薄暗い通路へと歩みを進めた。所々薄汚れた壁と天井のLEDライトが冷たく落ちている。冷たさと静寂が辺りを覆っている。
「この手の通路は、いつ見ても気が滅入るな」
ジャスティンが呟いた。
「気持ちはわかるけど、ここが最も安全なルートよ」エリノアが柔らかく返す。コールが間を埋めるように言った。
「こうした環境だからこそ、私たちが守られている。感謝するべきだ」
しばらく歩くと、要人専用エレベーターの前に到着した。壁の顔認証システムが稼働し、認証音が静かに鳴った。
「VIPルームまであと少しです」
セキュリティーのひとりがジャスティンらに告げた。
ジャスティンは背後のエリノアをちらりと見て、肩をすくめていった。
「今夜、ガーデンを震わそう」
エリノアが彼の腕に軽く触れ、優しく笑いかけた。
「期待してるわ、ジャスティン」
三人は静かにエレベーターに乗り込み、VIPルームへと向かった。
場面 トットラーメン アナ、ミカ、車列
—— 赤、黄色、青 ——
イースト52丁目に小雨が舞い始めたのは、午後七時を少し過ぎた頃だった。
アナは、トットラーメンの隣にある古いビルの壁面にもたれ、右手に見える十字路の信号をぼんやりと眺めていた。蒸し返すような湿気がコンクリートにまとわりつき、行き交う人々の足取りもどこか重たかった。
信号が青に変わった。額の汗をハンカチで拭いながら、アナが目を細めると、十字路の向こうにカナの姿が見えた。彼女は手を振りながら、笑顔でこちらに駆け出してくる。
そのとき、空気がふいに変わった。十字路の向こうから、黒いSUVの車列が音もなく滑り込んできた。先頭車両の到着から、最後尾の装甲リムジンが去るまでの数十秒間、交差点は完全に封鎖され、誰も通ることができなかった。
車列が去ると、信号が切り替わり、ふたたび人の流れが戻り、動き出した。
カナがその人波の中からふたたび現れ、手を振った。
展示を終えたアナたちは、ミカの車に荷物を積み終えたあと、マンハッタンへ移動していた。
アナの夫アルジュンは、ウィリアムズバーグにあるAI・クラウド・サイバーセキュリティを手がける複合企業「ルミナテック・イノベーションズ」に勤めている。今日は休日だったが、彼だけハドソンヤードで会議があり、アナらとは別行動だった。
トットラーメンはその近くにあり、以前ミカに連れてきてもらってから、アナたち夫婦のお気に入りになっていた。
「おまたせ。今日は朝から素敵だったね」
息を切らせながら駆け寄ったミカが、そう言った。
“素敵”というのは、今朝の高級スーツをまとった二人の男のことだ。
アナは興味なさそうに答えた。
「そうね。ミカはああいう男性が好み？」
ミカは首をすくめ、笑って言った。
「うーん、かなり遠い存在かな。私は、すぐ実家に帰れるくらいの距離感が好き」
二人は笑い合いながら、ラーメン店の引き戸を開け、カウンターに並んで腰掛けた。店内は週末のため、アジア系の家族で賑わっていた。ミカの聞き慣れた日本語が遠くのカウンターから聞こえてくる。
アナのiPhoneが震えた。アルジュンからのビデオ通話だった。
画面をタッチすると、アルジュンが申し訳なさそうな表情で映った。
「会議が延びてる。少し遅れるから、先に食べててくれ」
アナは、静かに答えた。
「気をつけて来てね。さっきすごい車の軍団が流れていったわよ」
アルジュンは、即答した。
「今日はガーデンで、共和党の大会があるらしい。次期大統領候補が立つらしいよ」
傍で聞いていたミカが深々と頷きながら、同意した。
「なんか朝から物々しいのよね。いつもの週末と違うわ」
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場面 レッドフック１ アミール、ラフィ
レッドフックは、ブルックリンの中でも異質だった。
高層ビルの影に守られ、風雨に洗われた赤レンガの倉庫と錆びた港湾クレーンが、風に軋んでいる街だ。やってくる潮の匂いが重なるたびに上塗りされ、倉庫の鉄の扉に赤錆を浮かせていく。
鍵の壊れたフェンスの向こう、何年も使われていなかった倉庫の扉が静かに開いた。
アミールは一歩踏み入れ、光のない空間に目を慣らした。コンクリートに染み込んだ油の臭いが鼻をついた。
「ここから始めよう」
その声に、ラフィが黙って頷いた。
ふたりが初めてここにやってきたのは５年前の冬だ。イスラエルによってガザ地区ですべてを失った二人は、合法的にエジプトからトルコを経由し、メキシコの南部タパチュラへ行き、コヨーテと呼ばれる密入国請負人と接触した。ラフィは密入国業者へ一人あたり１２，０００ドルを支払った。すべて、北朝鮮経由でハッキングした仮想通貨での支払いだ。金の出どころは、北朝鮮系ハッカー集団を通じて奪ったコインだった。アミールの手でコードが組まれ、記録は消された。彼らは、血を流さずに数字を流して国境を超えたのだ。その後、国境のフェンスを夜に潜り、陸路でアメリカに入った。
テキサスの夜空は、彼らが見たことのないほど青黒かった。低く、澄んだ深い青の美しさは、彼らの胸にいくらかの希望を与えていたが、それ以上に憎しみの強さが上回っていた。
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これまでのメモ
1
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54599616429/in/dateposted...
2
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54628511025/in/dateposted...
舞台はニューヨークです。
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54599616429/in/dateposted...
追記 この小説を多少説明しました。
youtu.be/3w65lqUF-YI?si=yG7qy6TPeCL9xRJV
iTunes Playlist Link::
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b/pl.u-47DJGhopxMD
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メモ
1
「Bombay型（ボンベイ型、hh型）」
•特徴：通常のABO血液型を持たない（A、B、Oに分類されない）特殊な型。
•発見地：1952年、インド・ムンバイ（旧ボンベイ）で初めて確認。
•発生頻度：インドでは1万人に1人程度だが、世界的には約250万人に1人とも。
•輸血制限：同じBombay型しか輸血できない。
2
2024年ハーバード大学首席の卒業式スピーチ『知らないことの力』
youtu.be/SOUH8iVqSOI?si=Ju-Y728irtcWR71K
3
Shots fired at Trump rally
youtu.be/1ejfAkzjEhk?si=ASqJwEmkY-2rW_hT
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"Lopsided Smile"
circa 1946 Chevy pick up under the full moon at a Central Valley Junkyard
262 sec, f/8, ISO 100, 20 mm focal length
Swirls of chocolate, caramel and cream – this image is definitely one to trigger sweet-toothed cravings. Smooth cream-coloured plateaus surrounded by cocoa-dusted ridges interspersed with caramel-hued streaks create a scene reminiscent of a cosmic cappuccino.
This picture is, perhaps surprisingly, from ESA’s Mars Express, which has been exploring and imaging the martian surface and atmosphere since 2003. We may be used to seeing numerous images of red and brown-hued soil and ruddy landscapes peppered with craters, but the Red Planet isn’t always so red.
The bright white region of this image shows the icy cap that covers Mars’ south pole, composed of frozen water and carbon dioxide. While it looks smooth in this image, at close quarters the cap is a layered mix of peaks, troughs and flat plains, and has been likened in appearance to swiss cheese.
The southern cap reaches some 3 km thick in places, and is around 350 km in diameter. This icy region is permanent; in the martian winter another, thinner ice cap forms over the top of it, stretching further out across the planet and disappearing again when the weather warms up.
The cap is around 150 km north of Mars’ geographical south pole and Mars Express has shed light on why this ice cap is displaced. Deep impact craters – notably the Hellas Basin, the largest impact structure on the entire planet at 7 km deep and 2300 km across – funnel the strong winds that blow across Mars towards its southern pole, creating a mix of different low- and high-pressure systems. The carbon dioxide in the polar cap sublimates at different rates in these regions with contrasting pressure, resulting in the cap’s lopsided structure.
Mars Express imaged this area of Mars on 17 December 2012, in infrared, green and blue light, using its High Resolution Stereo Camera. This image was processed by Bill Dunford, using data available from the ESA Planetary Science Archive.
Credit: ESA/DLR/FU Berlin / Bill Dunford
“There were two moons in the sky – a small moon and a large one. They were floating there side by side. The large one was the usual moon that she had always seen. It was nearly full, and yellow. But there was another moon right next to it. It had an unfamiliar shape. It was somewhat lopsided, and greenish, as though thinly covered with moss. This was what her vision had seized upon. Aomame stared at the two moons with narrowed eyes. Then she closed her eyes, let a moment pass, took a deep breath, and opened her eyes again, expecting to find that everything had returned to normal and there was only one moon. But nothing had changed. The light was not playing tricks on her, nor had her eyesight gone strange. There could be no doubt that two moons were clearly floating in the sky side by side – a yellow one and a green one.”
1Q84, Haruki Murakami