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In all my years of visiting Jasper - my first was in 1977 when I backpacked the Tonquin Valley - I had never poked my lens into Maligne Canyon. I always thought it would be too touristy, not wild enough for me. Finally this year I had a look. Yes, it's pretty touristy, with a restaurant and gigantic parking lot at the main trail head, and fencing along much of the rim that limits photo ops somewhat but has probably kept a few people from falling in. It's a long way down. A river runs through the bottom, not visible in this photo. I actually had a touch of vertigo looking over the edge - and I'm good with heights (unless I have to go up onto the roof of my house, which is too smooth for my liking).
So... how does one photograph a steep, deep, narrow-walled canyon? I have no answer. Point and shoot? Get out the wide angle and hope for the best? I tried this and that (in this case shooting with a 50mm or "normal" lens). Limit contrast by not allowing patches of sunlit rocks or trees into the frame. Going early in the morning helps, too, if only because that eliminates 95% of the tourists, whose footsteps vibrate bridges and whose awareness of a photographer's needs ranges from pretty good to nonexistent.
This was the first shot I made, from a bridge across the canyon. Originally I framed it to include the river, but that meant clipping the top of the green tree, so I reframed. The river is visible in other shots. I learned a long time ago that it isn't necessary to include everything in the world in every shot. Instead, try to capture the feel of it. More to come...
Photographed in Jasper National Park, Alberta (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2021 James R. Page - all rights reserved.
TYRANNICAL regimes’ ugliness can be covered under a white blanket of snow: A superficial lustre of ostensible happiness and laughter conceals Slavery in broad daylight, allowing monstrous rulers to create an illusion of normality. Tyrants are happy whenever the stormy weather hinders or impedes the protest marches.
The people are unwilling or afraid to criticize the widespread logical fallacies powdered by something as immaculate as snow flakes, or the fallacies enforced by millions’ worth of mighty propaganda. Lips are too frozen stiff (or scared) to speak out about the (nonexistent) emperor’s new clothes.
Hold on, free souls: The snow can and will melt exposing the tyrant bare, without anything on, soon, real soon!
I had a good day on the 27th. Two uncommon birds or should I say one uncommon Lewis's Woodpecker and one Uncommon Common Gallinule that kept me busy for an hour or so once I got home. In two Bird Guides, the Common Gallinule isn't mentioned at all, but I thought it was probably a Common Moorhen. Except that the Common Moorhen isn't listed in any of four books and one app. Then I noticed that the Common Gallinule is listed, under range, as "Uncommon Winter" and nonexistent the rest of the year.
I found the answer in Wikipedia: "The common gallinule is a bird in the family Rallidae. It was split from the common moorhen by the American Ornithologists' Union in July 2011. It lives around well-vegetated marshes, ponds, canals, and other wetlands in the Americas. The species is not found in the polar regions or many tropical rainforests. Elsewhere, the common gallinule is likely the most commonly seen rail species in much of North America, excepting the American coot in some regions."
By believing in something that still does not exist, we create it. The nonexistent is whatever we have not sufficiently desired. - Kafka
Crater Lake, Oregon, just before sunrise, the day after the Thanksgiving holiday in the USA. Most of the roads in the national park are closed after October, the only one open is the road to this viewpoint, which that day, was covered in black ice. It was windy up there so the reflections are almost nonexistent unfortunately. Even so it was the best shot I got from an excursion last weekend.
Title after a song by Avenged Sevenfold.
Western Grebe, with its low-lying, almost nonexistent nest. San Luis Obispo County, California. I didn't see a mate the entire time this grebe was repairing its nest.
After flying past me, a Prairie Falcon takes a peek. Considering their wing movement and how fast they fly, the difference between a successful shot and missing it altogether had to be a tiny fraction of a second.
I'm meeting up with my friend George the videographer this morning, pre-dawn, for an outing - it will be my 4th time out in 7 days. Almost like being on vacation. I'm shooting heavily as we careen toward winter, because things will inevitably slow down in January and February. Right now, the Mule Deer rut is winding down, Bison are active, and I'm seeing our year round resident birds on every outing. The prairie looks stunning with its new cloak of snow, and the light has been great. Can't ask for more than that!
Photographed near the nonexistent community of Masefield, Saskatchewan (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2024 James R. Page - all rights reserved.
It has been terribly dry here, and berries - or wildflowers - are almost nonexistent. It has been at least six to eight weeks without any real rain, and Mud Lake has become Mud Puddle.
This early returning migrant made short work of the ripe berries here, and was utterly unconcerned by me or my camera.
Lange Reisezüge sind im Bereich der ŽRS, welche den Eisenbahnverkehr in der bosnischen Republik Srpska abwickelt, quasi nicht anzutreffen. Die meisten Regionalzüge bestehen aus zwei Reisezugwagen. Eine kurzfristige Info ergab, dass am Vormittag des 13.07.2025 der B15201 von Prag nach Banja Luka an der Landegrenze aufschlagen sollte. Im kroatischen System tauchte der Zug auf und war bis auf wenige Minuten pünktlich. Also wurde ein Motiv gesucht und kurz nach der Grenze gefunden. Der Grenzaufenthalt des Zuges bescherte ihm aber dann aber doch eine gute Stunde Verspätung. 441-004 war für die Beförderungen des von Vlakfest organisierten Zuges zuständig.
Long-distance passenger trains are virtually nonexistent in the area served by ŽRS, the railway company that operates in Republika Srpska, Bosnia and Herzegovina. Most regional trains consist of two passenger cars. A last-minute update revealed that on the morning of July 13, 2025, train B15201 from Prague to Banja Luka was scheduled to arrive at the border. The train appeared in the Croatian timetable and was running almost on time. A suitable photo opportunity was sought and found shortly after the border. However, the train's stop at the border resulted in a delay of over an hour. Locomotive 441-004 was responsible for operating the train, which was organized by Vlakfest.
Though its head house leans precariously, Saskatchewan Pool Elevator No. 834 holds its form high above the prairie at the nonexistent town of Dankin, a few miles east of Eatonia, Sask, as Big Sky Rail eases past with grain loads from LaPorte, a few miles to the west. The sun came up about 20 minutes prior, at 4:45 a.m., and it's still struggling to burn off the morning haze.
From a Memorial Day morning drive in the country. I almost missed this scene as it was tucked away on a bend in the road. Fortunately it was early morning so the traffic on this back country road was nonexistent. Gave me time to enjoying this lovely scene while I shot a few frames.
Be sure to check out my blog Back Roads
Please don't use this image on websites, blogs or other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved
Quebec is a nice place. Montreal is a nice city. Visitors here can find interesting and beautiful things wherever they go in this province. That said, Montreal is a world capitol of orange construction cones, potholes that would sink one of those ugly Tesla trucks, and confusing road signs that are hidden behind trees, facing in the wrong directions or nonexistent. This one takes the cake. Did the person who installed this not notice?
The adult humpback whale is generally 14–15 m (46–49 ft) long, though individuals up to 16–17 m (52–56 ft) long have been recorded. Females are usually 1–1.5 m (3 ft 3 in – 4 ft 11 in) longer than males.
The species can reach body masses of 40 metric tons (44 short tons). Calves are born at around 4.3 m (14 ft) long with a mass of 680 kg (1,500 lb)] The species has a bulky body with a thin rostrum and proportionally long flippers, each around one-third of its body length.[14][15] It has a short dorsal fin that varies from nearly nonexistent to somewhat long and curved.
Like other rorquals, the humpback has grooves between the tip of the lower jaw and the navel. The grooves are relatively few in number in this species, ranging from 14 to 35. The upper jaw is lined with baleen plates, which number 540–800 in total and are black in color.
The dorsal or upper side of the animal is generally black; the ventral or underside has various levels of black and white coloration. Whales in the southern hemisphere tend to have more white pigmentation. The flippers can vary from all-white to white only on the undersurface. Some individuals may be all white, notably Migaloo who is a true albino. The varying color patterns and scars on the tail flukes distinguish individual animals.[
The end of the genital slit of the female is marked by a round feature, known as the hemispherical lobe, which visually distinguishes males and females.
Unique among large whales, humpbacks have bumps or tubercles on the head and front edge of the flippers; the tail fluke has a jagged trailing edge. The tubercles on the head are 5–10 cm (2.0–3.9 in) thick at the base and protrude up to 6.5 cm (2.6 in).
They are mostly hollow in the center, often containing at least one fragile hair that erupts 1–3 cm (0.39–1.18 in) from the skin and is 0.1 mm (0.0039 in) thick. The tubercles develop early in gestation and may have a sensory function, as they are rich in nerves. Sensory nerve cells in the skin are adapted to withstand the high water pressure of diving.
In one study, a humpback whale brain measured 22.4 cm (8.8 in) long and 18 cm (7.1 in) wide at the tips of the temporal lobes, and weighed around 4.6 kg (10 lb). The humpback's brain has a complexity similar to that of the brains of smaller whales and dolphins.
The structure of the eye indicates that eyesight is relatively poor, being only able to see silhouettes over long distances and finer details relatively close. Computer models of the middle ear suggest that the humpback can hear at frequencies between 15 Hz and 3 kHz "when stimulated at the tympanic membrane", and between 200 Hz and 9 kHz "if stimulated at the thinner region of the tympanic bone adjacent to the tympanic membrane". These ranges are consistent with their vocalization ranges.
As in all cetaceans, the respiratory tract of the humpback whale is connected to the blowholes and not to the mouth, although the species appears to be able to unlock the epiglottis and larynx and move them towards the oral cavity, allowing humpbacks to blow bubbles from their mouths. The vocal folds of the humpback are more horizontally positioned than those of land mammals which allows them to produce underwater calls. These calls are amplified by a laryngeal sac.
This image was taken in Reykjavik, Iceland
When I was a child in Spain, and I lost a baby tooth, I slept through the night excited because the next morning I'd find a gift under my pillow, brought to me by the "Tooth Fairy" (in Spanish: "Ratoncito Pérez").
And I wonder: What about when you're an adult and have a root canal, an extraction, or an implant, with one or more anesthetic injections, wouldn't you deserve a gift?
Well, SHE deserved a gift.
Night photo taken with a tripod, a Nikon Z8 camera, and a Meyer Optik Görlitz Biotar 75 f1.5 II lens, which doesn't have pins for electronic connection to the camera, so the metadata information may be erroneous or nonexistent.
QUE VIENE EL RATONCITO PÉREZ, 2025
Cuando yo era un niño en España, y se me caía un diente de leche, dormía toda la noche ilusionado porque a la mañana siguiente podría encontrar un regalo bajo mi almohada, que me iba a traer "el ratoncito Pérez"
Y yo me pregunto: ¿Y cuando eres adulto y te hacen una endodoncia, una extracción o un implante, con una o varias inyecciones de anestesia, no te merecerías un regalo?
Pues eso: ELLA se merecía un regalo.
Foto nocturna hecha con trípode, una cámara Nikon Z8 y una lente Meyer Optik Görlitz Biotar 75 f1.5 II que no tiene pines de conexión electrónica con la cámara, con lo que la información de metadatos puede ser errónea o inexistente.
There's a bit of humor in that I'm attempting to play a broken piano in this shot, as my musical talent is all but nonexistent. I couldn't resist the scenery, though.
This was taken at the Winter Moon sim which can be found here:
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Winter%20Moon/114/139/21
Much appreciation to Truman for being my tour guide.
I find this good example of Type I Ultron bokeh.
Usually, nature of bokeh changes for backend and frontend bokeh depending on how well lens is corrected. Ultron is very well corrected lens and differences in frontend and backend blur are almost nonexistent. Backend balls have just a hint of sharp border and frontend one slightly softer edges.
Western Grebe, with its low-lying, almost nonexistent nest. San Luis Obispo County, California. I didn't see a mate the entire time this grebe was repairing its nest.
I have named you queen.
There are taller than you, taller.
There are purer than you, purer.
There are lovelier than you, lovelier.
But you are the queen.
When you go through the streets
No one recognizes you.
No one sees your crystal crown, no one looks
At the carpet of red gold
That you tread as you pass,
The nonexistent carpet.
And when you appear
All the rivers sound
In my body, bells
Shake the sky,
And a hymn fills the world.
Only you and I,
Only you and I, my love,
Listen to me.
- - - - - - - -
Yo te he nombrado reina.
Hay más altas que tú, más altas.
Hay más puras que tú, más puras.
Hay más bellas que tú, hay más bellas.
Pero tú eres la reina.
Cuando vas por las calles
nadie te reconoce.
Nadie ve tu corona de cristal, nadie mira
la alfombra de oro rojo
que pisas donde pasas,
la alfombra que no existe.
Y cuando asomas
suenan todos los ríos
en mi cuerpo, sacuden
el cielo las campanas,
y un himno llena el mundo.
Sólo tú y yo,
sólo tú y yo, amor mío,
lo escuchamos.
The Queen By Pablo Neruda
(Photo taken at Moochie)
Please don't use this image on websites, blogs or other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved Contact: nejdet_2005@hotmail.com
Among the ruins and sites to see in Mylasa is, most noteworthy, the Gumuskesen tomb (the Silver Purse) that is though to have resembled the famous, now nonexistent monumental tomb, Mausoleum of King Mausolus of Halicarnassus.
The Gumuskesen tomb is believed to date to 1C BC. The great Mausoleum was built much earlier, in 350 BC. Located on the slopes of Hidirlik hill to the west of the town, it consists of a square colonnade with twelve Corinthian columns, perfectly preserved in situ, a burial chamber that rests on a base and a stepped, pyramid-style roof. No inscriptions and remains were found in the tomb which was robbed long ago.
The adult humpback whale is generally 14–15 m (46–49 ft) long, though individuals up to 16–17 m (52–56 ft) long have been recorded. Females are usually 1–1.5 m (3 ft 3 in – 4 ft 11 in) longer than males.
The species can reach body masses of 40 metric tons (44 short tons). Calves are born at around 4.3 m (14 ft) long with a mass of 680 kg (1,500 lb)] The species has a bulky body with a thin rostrum and proportionally long flippers, each around one-third of its body length. It has a short dorsal fin that varies from nearly nonexistent to somewhat long and curved.
Like other rorquals, the humpback has grooves between the tip of the lower jaw and the navel. The grooves are relatively few in number in this species, ranging from 14 to 35. The upper jaw is lined with baleen plates, which number 540–800 in total and are black in color.
The dorsal or upper side of the animal is generally black; the ventral or underside has various levels of black and white coloration. Whales in the southern hemisphere tend to have more white pigmentation. The flippers can vary from all-white to white only on the undersurface. Some individuals may be all white, notably Migaloo who is a true albino. The varying color patterns and scars on the tail flukes distinguish individual animals.[
The end of the genital slit of the female is marked by a round feature, known as the hemispherical lobe, which visually distinguishes males and females.
Unique among large whales, humpbacks have bumps or tubercles on the head and front edge of the flippers; the tail fluke has a jagged trailing edge. The tubercles on the head are 5–10 cm (2.0–3.9 in) thick at the base and protrude up to 6.5 cm (2.6 in).
They are mostly hollow in the center, often containing at least one fragile hair that erupts 1–3 cm (0.39–1.18 in) from the skin and is 0.1 mm (0.0039 in) thick. The tubercles develop early in gestation and may have a sensory function, as they are rich in nerves. Sensory nerve cells in the skin are adapted to withstand the high water pressure of diving.
In one study, a humpback whale brain measured 22.4 cm (8.8 in) long and 18 cm (7.1 in) wide at the tips of the temporal lobes, and weighed around 4.6 kg (10 lb). The humpback's brain has a complexity similar to that of the brains of smaller whales and dolphins.
The structure of the eye indicates that eyesight is relatively poor, being only able to see silhouettes over long distances and finer details relatively close. Computer models of the middle ear suggest that the humpback can hear at frequencies between 15 Hz and 3 kHz "when stimulated at the tympanic membrane", and between 200 Hz and 9 kHz "if stimulated at the thinner region of the tympanic bone adjacent to the tympanic membrane". These ranges are consistent with their vocalization ranges.
As in all cetaceans, the respiratory tract of the humpback whale is connected to the blowholes and not to the mouth, although the species appears to be able to unlock the epiglottis and larynx and move them towards the oral cavity, allowing humpbacks to blow bubbles from their mouths. The vocal folds of the humpback are more horizontally positioned than those of land mammals which allows them to produce underwater calls. These calls are amplified by a laryngeal sac.
This image was taken at Reykjavik, Iceland
The adult humpback whale is generally 14–15 m (46–49 ft) long, though individuals up to 16–17 m (52–56 ft) long have been recorded. Females are usually 1–1.5 m (3 ft 3 in – 4 ft 11 in) longer than males.
The species can reach body masses of 40 metric tons (44 short tons). Calves are born at around 4.3 m (14 ft) long with a mass of 680 kg (1,500 lb)] The species has a bulky body with a thin rostrum and proportionally long flippers, each around one-third of its body length.[14][15] It has a short dorsal fin that varies from nearly nonexistent to somewhat long and curved.
Like other rorquals, the humpback has grooves between the tip of the lower jaw and the navel. The grooves are relatively few in number in this species, ranging from 14 to 35. The upper jaw is lined with baleen plates, which number 540–800 in total and are black in color.
The dorsal or upper side of the animal is generally black; the ventral or underside has various levels of black and white coloration. Whales in the southern hemisphere tend to have more white pigmentation. The flippers can vary from all-white to white only on the undersurface. Some individuals may be all white, notably Migaloo who is a true albino. The varying color patterns and scars on the tail flukes distinguish individual animals.[
The end of the genital slit of the female is marked by a round feature, known as the hemispherical lobe, which visually distinguishes males and females.
Unique among large whales, humpbacks have bumps or tubercles on the head and front edge of the flippers; the tail fluke has a jagged trailing edge. The tubercles on the head are 5–10 cm (2.0–3.9 in) thick at the base and protrude up to 6.5 cm (2.6 in).
They are mostly hollow in the center, often containing at least one fragile hair that erupts 1–3 cm (0.39–1.18 in) from the skin and is 0.1 mm (0.0039 in) thick. The tubercles develop early in gestation and may have a sensory function, as they are rich in nerves. Sensory nerve cells in the skin are adapted to withstand the high water pressure of diving.
In one study, a humpback whale brain measured 22.4 cm (8.8 in) long and 18 cm (7.1 in) wide at the tips of the temporal lobes, and weighed around 4.6 kg (10 lb). The humpback's brain has a complexity similar to that of the brains of smaller whales and dolphins.
The structure of the eye indicates that eyesight is relatively poor, being only able to see silhouettes over long distances and finer details relatively close. Computer models of the middle ear suggest that the humpback can hear at frequencies between 15 Hz and 3 kHz "when stimulated at the tympanic membrane", and between 200 Hz and 9 kHz "if stimulated at the thinner region of the tympanic bone adjacent to the tympanic membrane". These ranges are consistent with their vocalization ranges.
As in all cetaceans, the respiratory tract of the humpback whale is connected to the blowholes and not to the mouth, although the species appears to be able to unlock the epiglottis and larynx and move them towards the oral cavity, allowing humpbacks to blow bubbles from their mouths. The vocal folds of the humpback are more horizontally positioned than those of land mammals which allows them to produce underwater calls. These calls are amplified by a laryngeal sac.
This image was taken in Reykjavik, Iceland
As farmers used a dry day to harvest their fields, the Reading unit passes by leading NS intermodal train #217 west to Chicago as it slows for a meet at Old Fort, OH on the former NKP main. Nice weekends this fall have been nonexistent, so was happy to break cabin fever for to see this guy and the previous train an hour earlier, the L11.
Apologies to John Denver. Photo taken at Maroon Bells when the conditions were almost perfect. Late enough in the season so that the aspen on the right side of the lake were in color. The wind was almost nonexistent, which meant I could get a reflection of the trees and mountains. I did have to wait for two ducks to stop swimming in front of me and messing up the reflection. Taken in the half-light before the sun hit the tops of the peaks and before jet contrails appeared in the sky above the mountains.
Kluane National Park - pronounced Kloo-Wah-Nee - in Canada's Yukon, is probably my favourite all-time backpacking location. Here's my hiking partner, Kluane Bonnie, taking a break above 48-Pup Creek.
In the distance is Red Castle Ridge. Below "our" hill is a deep creek drainage, where waters flow (right to left) from the green plateau and high ridges surrounding it. That's Sheep Creek, and our hike started way down there, to the left, out of the frame. 48-Pup is a tributary creek not visible here, but it's just to the left. At this elevation there were no more trails, and we were following one of those nonexistent trails up Sheep Mountain, which is directly behind me in (or out of) this photo.
It was a splendid, sunny day in August. Rain and fog would move in that night, but at least we were able to pitch the tent when everything was dry. That is so much more pleasant than doing it in the pouring rain. Make a dry camp and then with only a few housekeeping rules you can keep the interior and all your gear dry.
Wildlife that day included lots of Dall Sheep and one Grizzly. We saw the big bear ambling up a slope we had just vacated, about 200 yards away. It was pursuing its bear interests, which did not include us.
You can see another use for the ice axe here - a prop for my pack...
More to come from this amazing place!
Photographed in Kluane National Park, Yukon (Canada); scanned from the original Kodachrome 64 slide. Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©1982 James R. Page - all rights reserved.
Photo taken on a motu in French Polynesia. A motu is very small island. French Polynesia being what it is, there are thousands of small motus scattered around the Pacific Ocean, ranging in size from practically nonexistent to somewhat large.
Dear J,
I hope my postcard finds you well. Everything is ok, only five more weeks to go. This place is a dark void with a plot of gray snow. Industrial area at night. A brick-concrete monstrosity with one long ugly ulcer of a chimney stabbing the feeric nonexistent sky. A threat lurking somewhere. Maybe someone sees it, maybe someone feels it but I never know for sure.
Life cuts into the landscape.
Love, N
___________________________
from "Journey into communication"
dec. 2017
@ MetaLES..O..
Night view of Medellin, Spain, reflecting on the Guadiana river, the lighting was minimal to nonexistent, the illumination on the bridge and the fortress above is from street lights, I overexposed the photo to get this result, it was so dark I couldn't see my feet while taking the photo..
Crime is low to nonexistent in Croatia's Dalmation Islands... where the villages are small and everyone knows everyone. And they look out for each other. This is in Pitve on the island of Hvar and one of the oldest continuously occupied settlements on the island (384 BC).
By believing passionately in something that still does not exist, we create it. The nonexistent is whatever we have not sufficiently desired.
F.Kafka
This is from my second night with the "Boys Club" at Pt. Reyes, the all male Tule Elk herd down in the ravine beside the skinny 2-lane park road. The sun was still on them so I took a chance and eased the rolling blind onto the nonexistent shoulder. I got a few minutes before they moved on, when some ying-yang decided to lay on her horn. Too bad she didn't see the same magnificent animals I saw or she might have stopped to look. They were spectacular and I'm glad I got another 2nd chance, however brief.
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Lake Manyara National Park is a national park in Arusha Region, Tanzania. The park consists of 330 km2 of arid land, forest, and a soda-lake which covers as much as 200 km2 of land during the wet season but is nearly nonexistent during the dry season.
He comes around every day and chirps till i go outside and talk to him...sweet little guy
There were squirrels in Manhattan before there was a city there, but by the mid-1800s, their population was practically nonexistent. Then in 1877, about 20 years after the first bushy-tailed rodent found its way into the newspaper, the city decided to capitalize on squirrels' growing fandom by bringing them back to Central Park. They planted squirrel-friendly nut trees and installed cozy squirrel homes, then released a handful of chipper gray squirrels to run wild in the park. The following year, they released 30 more pairs. By 1883, the park was home to at least 1,500 of them.
We still have absolutely no idea how it was pulled off, but me and Skylor would successfully catch up and get ahead of SCFE’s Fort Pierce Turn [FPT-15] around South Bay, refusing to let off the gas driving westbound on US-27 until we reached our destination. Despite viewing their EoT for most of the drive, we’d beat it to our final planned photo spot of the chase, ‘the best for last’, if you will, that being the popular trestle over the Miami Canal at Lake Harbor, FL.
Pulling off at the crossing and whipping out the binoculars, we’d breathe a sigh relief at the sight of the Turn’s head end clearing the west end of Buker in the distance. A couple minutes go by and the sickly wail of 6325’s fouled Leslie RSL-3L rings off to our east by Mutt Thomas Rd, paparazzi ready with cameras in hand for the climax of our one hour chase.
The last half hour of unobstructed golden sunlight beautifully illuminates #USSC6325 [SD40M-2] and #USSC3801 [GP38-2] taking charge of SCFE’s Fort Pierce Turn over the Miami Canal with their 20-car train received from the Florida East Coast Railway. A clear shot from the canalbank showcases U.S. Sugar’s new corportate look adorning the newest SD40-2 rebuild to their roster, along with the recently repainted #USSC404, now renumbered #3801. Upon entering the Keela Block [the block limit sign between there and Lake Harbor Block out of frame to the left], the crew will set out their last four covered hoppers at Calcium Silicate, and then continue west towards Clewiston to cap off their day. Skylor and I would end our chase here, parting ways with the Turn, turning east for home.
One can see the comparison between U.S. Sugar’s new look and the Seaboard Air Line Railroad’s last paint scheme when viewed on the broadside, ignoring the obnoxious, poorly contrasted billboard logo. Its ties to the SAL are nonexistent; the scheme intends to honor the agricultural communities of the region, which explains the prominent green and yellow palette. Hell, U.S. Sugar doesn’t operate over any former SAL trackage, but pay no mind to those foamer fantasies. It’s a new scheme, and I’m all for it after this shoot.
•
Lake Harbor, FL
SCFE Fort Pierce Subdivision
Date: 11/15/2024 | 17:04
ID: SCFE Fort Pierce Turn [FPT-15]
Type: Local
Direction: Westbound
Car Count: 20
1. USSC SD40M-2 #6325
2. USSC GP38-2 #3801
•
© Vicente Alonso 2024
Last pair of archived shots from the days of Kodachrome, which coincided with my backpacking days in the wildest places I could get into. This is one of Kluane National Park's great valley glaciers, more than a mile wide at its terminus, winding away into the Icefield Ranges where it is born amid Canada's highest peaks.
This was a solo trip, and had its share of challenges. After tiring of forcing my way through tiny aspens on nonexistent game trails, I tried the river flats and quickly bogged down in glacial silt. Almost lost my boots in the muck. It took me five minutes just to turn around. When I climbed back up the bank, there were fresh grizzly tracks; no doubt the bear stopped and had a good laugh. Crossing one alluvial fan after another with my loaded pack, over mud, water, gravel, boulders, deadfall (tree trunks and branches) and other debris washed down the slopes, at one point I just sat there, weeping. Seriously. I really had to make an effort to pull myself together.
My reward was solitude in a majestic setting, with glimpses into the heart of this northern wilderness. I had to climb a hill from my camp for this shot. There is some haze that even a polarizing filter couldn't remove. It isn't the best shot I made that week, but it does suggest the scale of the landscape, and so it slides into the series as my representative shot for 1989. One more to go!
Photographed from a hill overlooking the Kaskawulsh Glacier, Kluane National Park, Yukon; scanned from the original Kodachrome 64 slide. Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©1989 James R. Page - all rights reserved.
Est une espèce de petits passereaux partiellement migratrice très répandue, de la famille des Muscicapidés. On l'appelle également rossignol des murailles ou queue rousse.
Adulte, le rougequeue noir mesure environ 14 cm de long et 25 cm d'envergure, et pèse de 14 à 20 g. Ils sont très protecteurs envers leur famille. La femelle est plus terne que le mâle, avec un plumage uniforme gris-brun cendré, le roux est inexistant chez elle. Sa poitrine grisâtre est légèrement striée de foncé.
**
Is a species of small migrating partially migrating passerine, of the family Muscicapidae. It is also called the nightingale of the walls or red tail.
As an adult, the black redstart is about 14 cm long and 25 cm wide, and weighs 14 to 20 g. They are very protective of their families. The female is duller than the male, with uniform gray-brown ash plumage, the roux is nonexistent in her. Its grayish breast is slightly streaked with dark.
We had a pair of very rare visitors to the yard today. Birdweb has them as nonexistent in my region, though I gather they are starting to pop up from time to time with climate change. I've only seen them in the yard once before, back in 2018. They were not super-cooperative in their poses but maybe they will stick around a bit this time. Lesser goldfinch, backyard Olympia.
Note (5.6.23): I also saw the first baby junco of the season in the yard.
Note (5.7-5.8.-5.9-5.10.23): Lesser goldfinches are still here.
...it's DARK!
sort of funny that as I was planning to do this project and thinking about how winter light is my favorite, I completely forgot that so much of the time that pretty light is nonexistent. I normally write notes with my tracking of days and film frames and there is nonstop chatter that goes something like - 'the sun came in!!! it was gone 2 minutes later.' I forgot that you have to be a light ninja in this season, practically gluing a camera to your body so you can capture the two seconds of sun that shine in during the day.
...I exaggerate a tiny bit but not by much. it does feel this way, especially when you're working during all the daylight hours. :)
this was a dark day. if the sun came in at all, I missed it.
Materans were tough and self-sufficient. They had their own rituals and songs, their own demons and dialect. Many of their traditions developed as ways of preventing waste. Using shared ovens, they produced a unique horn-shaped bread that was leavened and baked slowly, yielding large pores that helped it stay fresh for a week. Rainwater was captured by a complex network of stone basins and underground ceramic pipes. Resourceful as the Materans were, however, their life style increasingly lagged behind that of the rest of the world. The better-off citizens of Matera began departing for the Piano—a more recently settled, flatter section of the hilltop—and the townspeople who remained in the Sassi were almost exclusively poor. In the caves, plumbing, electricity, and telephones were practically nonexistent. And until the nineteen-thirties you couldn’t take a wagon drawn by a donkey into the Sassi, only a hand-pulled cart.
Ex-BNSF C44-9W, 4514, now AC44C6M 3373 leads Z12031 02 at Belmont on January 4, 2025. The eastbound intermodal train stretches out along the 15 300' siding, having just met L507 which can be seen in the distance at the west end. The little bit of snow cover was nonexistent once east of Truro.
"Every aspect of Nature reveals a deep mystery and touches our sense of wonder and awe. Those afraid of the universe as it really is, those who pretend to nonexistent knowledge and envision a Cosmos centered on human beings will prefer the fleeting comforts of superstition. They avoid rather than confront the world. But those with the courage to explore the weave and structure of the Cosmos, even where it differs profoundly from their wishes and prejudices, will penetrate its deepest mysteries."
— Carl Sagan
{Sorry about the flickr trouble with my comment box yesterday; and, thanks to those who let me know there was a problem. I am not sure what was up with that....and if it will happen again.}
The black dog visited yesterday which was a shame as I hadn’t felt that way for a while. I didn’t do my exercises in the morning and as the day drifted on I sank. Carla tried in vane to lift me and go for a walk in the afternoon, I refused saying I was no company at the moment, I flopped on the bed and she went out. Lying there an idea started forming, I looked at the forecast hoping for clear skies, I knew the moon was nonexistent, now it was just the tide, bingo low at 11pm. My mood was lifted and I quickly got up and did my exercises, and went out to find Carla, 2 miles later I informed her of my plans. I’m not an astro photographer but I love the night sky and I’d recently throw more money on a camera which had facilities that made this genre a little easier. My location although close, the walk in was only three quarters of a mile, but it was a dark and the last quarter was along a pitch black rocky way only accessible at low tides. I took my first photo at 9:20 and my last 3 hours later, I had great fun although I don’t know if photos cut it, the new camera performed well. This one of my first images, the little red triangle of stars just rising on the left is Tarus coloured by the earths atmosphere and the cluster above is Pleiadies, the seven sisters.
A favorite book of mine has always been John Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley: In Search of America. Perhaps, because of Steinbeck’s yearning for wanderlust in his early 50’s, the same time I realized how much I wanted to experience the beauty, meet the people and hear the stories of this amazing land we call home. When I think of Bannack Montana, I am reminded of the words from those pages “A journey is a person itself; no two are alike. And all plans, safeguards, policing, and coercion are fruitless. We find after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us”
When you visit Bannack, the old mining town, you immediately find the true meaning of these words and that of the “wild west”, when law and order seemed to be nonexistent. This well preserved town now sits empty, consumed only by the ghosts of days gone by.
On an earlier visit, a few years ago, to this location, I was cautioned that the current “residents” still run this town. On that stop I encountered a spirit in the Bannack Hotel Meade. He made his presence quite clear to me with cold drafts, the smell of sulfur, malfunctioning my camera, draining its batteries and sending me racing down the stairs and out of building faster than I had moved in quite some time! Following this confrontation, I became a bit terrified of the unknown, but intrigued and wanting to face my fears, I returned for a second visit. This time with a plan to spend the night.
I arrived early in the afternoon on a beautiful day and was a little relieved to find a park ranger ready to accompany a group of school kids on a tour of the town. I walked though photographing these amazing old structures trying to stay ahead of the visitors. I listened to my footsteps echoing through the spring air as I walked the old wooden boardwalk towards that dreaded Hotel to face my fear. Now standing at the front door, I found my hand shaking a bit as I turned the knob to gain access (to what seemed in my mind) to hell.
Once inside this grand old hotel, I started my ascent on the creaking old stairs, ever so cautiously, to the scene of my last meeting with “Mr. Not So Nice”. Once upstairs I rounded the corner to that long hallway where all the doors were open allowing the light to pour onto the floor, except the one door at the end of the hallway, which was shut tight, and the reason, on my first visit, I let my curiosity get the best of me. I had to know what was behind that door. Again in almost the same spot, came the cold draft, then the smell of sulfur. My heart racing, paralyzed for the moment, a couple of kids came running up the stairs and as quickly as Casper’s not so friendly cousin came, he was gone. No cold draft, no foul smell. Breathing a huge sigh of relief, I regained my composure as nothing had happened and greeted the kids. Bravely, I walked to the end of the hallway to find that the door nailed shut, simply lead to the old second story porch on the front of the hotel.
After spending a couple of more hours photographing this “ghost town”, I headed several hundred yards to the river to set up camp. Carefully preparing my accommodations for the evening, saying hello to the only other campers at the grounds, an older couple in a huge RV, I started a fire to cook my gourmet cuisine of beans and franks. After filling my belly, I noticed the sun making its way to the Montana horizon and grabbed my gear to photograph this amazing light casting upon the plains.
Climbing the grassy hill leading to town, I once again was feeling a little pensive, after realizing I was the lone breathing person in a town abandoned and now taking on a whole new vibe. Setting up my camera I turned my attention to the beautiful light and began to photograph this place ripped from the pages of history. As I made my way towards the end of town snapping the shutter of my camera, I found myself frequently looking over my shoulder expecting to see someone there. Shaking off this feeling each time, I went back to the task at hand.
I reached the end of the town, which was only about two to three blocks long, I turned and headed back to photograph the now even more dramatic light making its last attempt to spread its hues of gold and reach across the land before retiring for the evening. I began my quest to capture this new, ever changing light and shadows drawn from the old buildings, and it was then I realized that not only had the light changed but so had everything else! There WAS someone else in that town, but how, but who, could have possibly opened almost every door in town!! All the doors, that on my short journey to the end of town were closed tightly, were now all WIDE OPEN! Frozen in fear, trying to rationalize this happening, I struggled to peruse my original goal of photographing this light, when a wind from the west whisked though the streets, overwhelming me in panic. “What in the world was happening”? Did they expect me to go in one of those doors, only to have them slam shut, locking me in wild west hell for eternity? I think not. That is when I picked up my backpack, my tripod and ran (and I mean full on marathon running) back to my campsite where I pulled up the stakes on my tent, threw my gear in disarray in the trunk of my car and left nothing but the dust in my path behind me.
My journal entry from that evening was titled “A Change of Plans” and boy was it ever! I was now able to breath comfortably, as I found myself nestled in to an extremely busy KOA Campground next to 15 Texas A&M students who were enjoying their night with cold beers around a campfire swapping stories and laughter. I am usually the one who seeks out quiet, remote camping quarters, but this evening, the sounds of people, real, living humans, was such glorious music to my ears!
Now, because I am truly suffering from a bruised and batter ego over this event, I am sure that this is not the last time there will be an entry in my journal in regards to Bannack Montana. But I AM sure, that it will take a couple more years at least to rebuild the courage so injured in defeat, when I can finally make the photographs I have hoped for, documenting this forgotten town in the middle of nowhere, under the evening stars. So until that time, I will continue on my journeys in hopes that I will maintain some sort of control over the adventures rather than them directing me, but that remains to be seen.