Machinery Ephemera
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Love's shed.
Was an old blacksmiths shed 100 years ago. But I have no idea, I liked the coloured paint and composition, and Rust!
"Power - Force - Motion - drive"....
Micro mechanism of my watch for MacroMondays : Timepieces .
Song by Propaganda.
It was a great gig last night watching British Sea Power at Clwb Ifor Bach in Cardiff. I love watching live music with lots of energy, like watching clouds approach and build up. Like machineries of Joy, one of the tracks they played. So much fun.
i dont know what this is or how old it is,its been in this field for a long time,buncrana county donegal
Another look at the 'beast' in Wareham Forest.
This machine is used for conservation & habitat reclamation.
Gas Works Park in Seattle is built on the spot of the old gas works plant and preserves several original structures and machinery of the plant. The plant produced gas for street lighting, originally, and later for heating, cooking, etc. It operated from 1910 through 1956.
font: Cavalier.
texture and effects by Remember Remember.
Detail of some restored machinery at Henwood Mill.
www.flickr.com/photos/28429128@N05/12859955785/in/set-721...
Isaac Bickerstaff.
There dwelt a miller, hale and bold,
Beside the river Dee;
He worked and sang from morn till night -
No lark more blithe than he;
And this the burden of his song
Forever used to be:
“I envy nobody – no, not I -
And nobody envies me!”
“Thou’rt wrong, my friend,” said good King Hal,
“As wrong as wrong can be;
For could my heart be light as thine,
I’d gladly change with thee.
And tell me now, what makes thee sing,
With voice so loud and free,
While I am sad, though I am king,
Beside the river Dee?””
The miller smiled and doffed his cap,
“I earn my bread,” quoth he;
“I love my wife, I love my friend,
I love my children three;
I owe no penny I can not pay,
I thank the river Dee,
That turns the mill that grinds the corn
That feeds my babes and me.”
“Good friend,” said Hall, and sighed the while,
“Farewell, and happy be;
But say no more, if thou’dst be true,
That no one envies thee;
Thy mealy cap is worth my crown,
Thy mill my kingdom’s fee;
Such men as thou are England’s boast,
O miller of the Dee!