View allAll Photos Tagged PULSATED
Murmuration is the flocking behaviour of birds. All the brown and white spots are Sandpipers with a few plovers mixed in. It is memorizing as they sparkle and pulsate while creating shapes over the Bay of Fundy. August 22, 2021
Jupiter's intense northern and southern lights, or auroras, behave independently of each other according to a new study using NASA's Chandra X-ray and ESA's XMM-Newton observatories. Using XMM-Newton and Chandra X-ray observations from March 2007 and May and June 2016, a team of researchers produced maps of Jupiter's X-ray emissions (shown in inset) and identified an X-ray hot spot at each pole. Each hot spot can cover an area equal to about half the surface of the Earth.
The team found that the hot spots had very different characteristics. The X-ray emission at Jupiter's south pole consistently pulsed every 11 minutes, but the X-rays seen from the north pole were erratic, increasing and decreasing in brightness — seemingly independent of the emission from the south pole. This makes Jupiter particularly puzzling. X-ray auroras have never been detected from our Solar System's other gas giants, including Saturn. Jupiter is also unlike Earth, where the auroras on our planet's north and south poles generally mirror each other because the magnetic fields are similar.
Image credit: X-ray: NASA/CXC/UCL/W.Dunn et al, Optical: South Pole:Credits: NASA/JPL-Caltech/SwRI/MSSS/Gerald Eichstädt /Seán Doran North Pole Credit:NASA/JPL-Caltech/SwRI/MSSS
. . . Zeboran . . .
The night sky oozes inky secrets, the moon, a sultry confidante to his solitary waltz. Each step he takes pulsates with the rhythm of a clandestine truth, a seductive equation that could rewrite the infinite stars.. 💕
His allure is the beckoning call of the abyss, the enchanting melody of the unexplored, enticing every daring soul to follow him into the untamed recesses of his mind. To share the journey, to unlock the desires of every soul he entwined with, revealing and brightening their alluring secret passions within.. 💕
ღ.-:**★**:-.ღ.-:**★**:-.ღ.-:**★**:-.ღ
Closeup Version - Zeboran's Love Note
www.flickr.com/photos/161478161@N05/53452672334
ღ.-:**★**:-.ღ.-:**★**:-.ღ.-:**★**:-.ღ
Sponsor: UNIQUE Poses - The Fashion Loft Set
NEW Releases ◦ The Fashion Loft – Holiday ◦ Two beautiful Couple, women's and men's poses.
✔ Copy ✔ Modify ✖ Transfer
Mainstore
Commentary.
The endless swathes of imperial Scots Pine.
Exquisite , calm waters of Loch Beinn á Mheadhoin and Affric,
convoluted by dips, hollows, bays and enchanting fresh-water islands.
Lofty, imposing peaks of Càrn Eighe, Màm Sodhail and Sgùrr na Lapaich, often snow-capped, well into April, and even May.
A glen of pulsating life.
From Wood-Ants and Dragon-Fly
to Salmon and Trout.
From Red Deer and Golden Eagle
to Wood-Cock and Wildcat.
Iconic, momentous, overwhelming, breath-taking in early morning mists, under winter snow or in colourful Autumn garb.
In Spring when Broom and Gorse smother slopes in dazzling yellow flower to Summer when green dominates and life buzzes with a frenzy.
As here, in Autumn, when the sun falls earlier behind the West Coast peaks, the tranquil, golden reflections of peaks, forest and island create a sumptuous vision of utter peace,
serenity and prodigious beauty.
Beyond doubt, this glen has a mystical magic beyond my powers of description.
If you ever go there, and catch it in a more convivial mood,
you will never forget it, never regret it
and you will surely return.
It really is a little bit of heaven……paradise.
I know nowhere quite like it.
Once smitten, the love affair
is likely to be eternal!
Poem.
A silhouetted, rapier-like peninsula piercing the radiant splendour of a pewter-grey sea.
Domed islands capped by the heavenly spokes of a setting-sun.
Timeless beauty.
Silence, but for the distant scream of a gull and the gentle, pulsating whistle of an oyster-catcher.
Sky, rock, sand, light and sea uniquely combine
to produce a glimpse inside heaven’s door.
Don’t yearn for heaven.
Look around.
It’s already here!
2|..
Picture of my project “The Path to yourself."
..The perfect silence made my heart pulsate like powerful hits on an anvil. The hands as warm as a blazing fire and the neck so rigid like a tribe. It did not feel bad, quite the contrary, it felt like new born.
>> Because as we know, every way has got a beginning and an end <<
When I had this thought I did not care how long it will take or how long the road may be. Someday I'll be at this end. The end of my own perfection.
Optimism was in high swing but something is missing, but what?
On the legs, locate the destination and find hope I make myself continue on the path of my perfection ..
To be continued ..
By the fall
René Silbernagel
In the "Harmony of Abstraction" series, the innovative digital artist Adrian Clarke reinterprets Vasily Kandinsky's groundbreaking approach to abstract art. Clarke views art as a symphony of colors and shapes that resonate with the viewer's inner emotions and thoughts. His work pays homage to Kandinsky's ability to compose images that capture the essence of music and transform it into a visual form. With a modern twist, Clarke introduces AI into the equation, allowing algorithms to harmonize with human intuition to create works pulsating with life and dynamism.
Poem:
Upon the digital stage, a vision casts,
A myriad of colors, contrasts.
Shapes that sing a silent song,
A visual symphony, bold and strong.
AI's hand, guided by past muse,
Kandinsky's echoes, in pixels fuse.
Abstract forms in vibrant play,
Compose the heart's unspoken ballet.
In virtual spaces, art is born,
From binary depths, a new dawn.
Each stroke, a note in a grander scheme,
A canvas that holds the digital dream.
Haiku:
Shapes and hues entwine,
A digital dance divine,
Art's new frontier shines.
These works celebrate the past and probe into the future, exploring and blurring the boundaries between traditional art and new technology.
Commentary.
The endless swathes of imperial Scots Pine.
Exquisite , calm waters of Loch Beinn á Mheadhoin and Affric,
convoluted by dips, hollows, bays and enchanting fresh-water islands.
Lofty, imposing peaks of Càrn Eighe, Màm Sodhail and Sgùrr na Lapaich, often snow-capped, well into April, and even May.
A glen of pulsating life.
From Wood-Ants and Dragon-Fly
to Salmon and Trout.
From Red Deer and Golden Eagle
to Wood-Cock and Wildcat.
Iconic, momentous, overwhelming, breath-taking in early morning mists, under winter snow or in colourful Autumn garb.
In Spring when Broom and Gorse smother slopes in dazzling yellow flower to Summer when green dominates and life buzzes with a frenzy.
As here, in Autumn, when the sun falls earlier behind the West Coast peaks, the tranquil, golden reflections of peaks, forest and island create a sumptuous vision of utter peace,
serenity and prodigious beauty.
Beyond doubt, this glen has a mystical magic beyond my powers of description.
If you ever go there, and catch it in a more convivial mood,
you will never forget it, never regret it
and you will surely return.
It really is a little bit of heaven……paradise.
I know nowhere quite like it.
Once smitten, the love affair
is likely to be eternal!
"São Luiz do Paraitinga - SP; a História pulsando", 03 fotos. Usei a Canon 6D, objetiva EF 28x135 mm.
"São Luiz do Paraitinga - SP; History pulsating", 03 photos. I used the Canon 6D, EF 28x135mm lens.
Todos os direitos reservados para Vivaldo Armelin Júnior.
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.
Lettice has not long returned from a trip to Paris which she took with her fiancée, Sir John Nettleford-Huges and his widowed sister, Lettice’s future sister-in-law, Clemance Pontefract. Lettice went to Paris to attend the ‘Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes’* which is highlighting and showcasing the new modern style of architecture and interior design known as Art Deco of which Lettice is an exponent, however Sir John was going for very different reasons of his own. His involved him attending the exhibition with Lettice in the mornings, before slipping away discreetly and meeting up with his old flame, Madeline Flanton in the afternoon. Old enough to be Lettice’s father, wealthy Sir John was until recently still a bachelor, and according to London society gossip intended to remain so, so that he might continue to enjoy his dalliances with a string of pretty chorus girls of Lettice’s age and younger. After an abrupt ending to her understanding with Selwyn Spencely, son and heir to the title Duke of Walmsford, Lettice in a moment of both weakness and resolve, agreed to the proposal of marriage proffered to her by Sir John. More like a business arrangement than a marriage proposal, Sir John offered Lettice the opportunity to enjoy the benefits of his large fortune, be chatelain of all his estates and continue to have her interior design business, under the conditions that she agree to provide him with an heir, and that he be allowed to discreetly carry on his affairs in spite of their marriage vows. He even suggested that Lettice might be afforded the opportunity to have her own extra marital liaisons if she were discreet about them.
Busy in the Cavendish Mews kitchen, Edith, Lettice’s maid, is arranging a small selection of dainty canapés onto a white gilt edged plate in the kitchen to serve to Lettice and her soon to arrive guest, when she hears the mechanical buzz of the Cavendish Mews servant’s call bell. Glancing up she notices the circle for the front door has changed from black to red, indicating that it is the front door bell that has rung.
“Oh he must be here!” she murmurs. “And not before time too, thank goodness!”
Quickly whipping off the starched white apron she is wearing to protect her black moiré* evening uniform with her hand stitched lace collar and matching cap, she hurries from the kitchen into the public area of the flat via a door in the scullery adjoining the kitchen, snatching up her elegant starched frilled cap from hook by the door as she goes. She hurriedly affixes the cap over her blonde waves, pinned in a chignon** at the nape of her neck as she walks into the entrance hall.
The front door buzzer goes again, sounding noisily, filling the atmosphere with a jarring echo. Edith glances towards the etched glass drawing room doors which stand slightly ajar, but there is no usual call from her mistress, and her face crumples as she considers this lack of interest in who is ringing the front doorbell. Her black low heels sink into the thick and luxurious Chinese silk carpet laid out before the front door. “I’m coming. I’m coming.” mutters Edith under her breath. She pats her cap and the hairpins holding her blonde waves self-consciously as she goes, hoping that she looks presentable as she opens the front door.
“It’s only little me, dear Edith.” Gerald simpers as he stands on the doorstep outside.
“Oh Mr. Bruton, Sir!” Edith gasps as she ushers Lettice’s oldest childhood chum and best friend through the door with a sweeping gesture. “Thank goodness you’re here!”
Gerald is a member of the aristocracy like Lettice, and the two grew up on adjoining estates in Wiltshire. However, although also being a member of the landed gentry Gerald’s fate is very different to Lettice’s. He has been forced to gain some independence from his rather impecunious family in order to make a living. Luckily his artistic abilities have led him to designing gowns from a shop in Grosvenor Street, a business which, after promotion from Lettice and several commissions from high profile and influential society ladies, is finally beginning to turn a profit. As Lettice’s oldest friend, Gerald is usually the person she turns to in a crisis, and she telephoned him earlier in the day at his Grosvenor Street atelier, imploring him to come around for cocktails and canapés that night before supper.
As he shrugs off his luxurious Astrakhan coat*** into the maid’s waiting arms, he glances at Edith. “That bad, is it, Edith?”
“Well, Mr. Bruton,” Edith says, folding the silky fur coat over her arms and reaching out to accept Gerald’s smart beaver fur top hat****. “I wouldn’t say it’s that dire, Sir.”
“But?” Gerald asks, persisting with Edith, encouraging her complete her unspoken thoughts as he hands her his grey dyed kid leather gloves.
“Well Miss Lettice just hasn’t been herself since she came back from Paris. I am a bit worried, Sir. She isn’t behaving like she usually does.”
“Such as?”
“She seems distracted by something, Sir, and whatever it is, it’s eating away at her. She hasn’t touched her paints to start the designs for Mrs. Hatchett’s commission, even though Mrs. Hatchett sent across her portrait to Cavendish Mews whilst Miss Lettice was away, so that it would be here upon her return.”
“That does sound serious.” Gerald opines with an eyebrow cocked in concern.
“She’s quite off her food. I can’t even tempt her with one of my home-made sponges. She hasn’t taken any calls since her return, and told me to tell any visitors that she is indisposed currently.” Edith goes on. “You’re her first friend that she has contacted, Sir.”
“Well thank goodness for that!” Gerald replies, as he tugs on the collar of his dinner jacket. “I’d best see what your mistress is all about then!”
“Oh thank you, Sir!” Edith exclaims. “I hope you’ll help her in her troubles, whatever they are. I’ll be in with the canapés shortly.”
“Hullo Lettice darling! It’s just me!” Gerald calls as he walks into the drawing room where Lettice sits in her usual black japanned, rounded back, while upholstered tub armchair next to the telephone. “I came here as soon as I could get away, after your surprise telephone call, my darling.”
Gerald observes his best friend with a concerned look. Although arrayed in a beautiful rich pink salmon satin evening frock of his own design, with a plunging V-neck and an asymmetrical draping hem, Lettice’s face looks wan and pale, and there are dark circles under eyes, which usually sparkle like Kashmir sapphires*****, but tonight appear dull and almost a blueish grey.
“Unfortunately, Lady Bessom simply would not leave today until she had picked my designs for her daughter’s wedding frock completely apart!” Gerald leans down and embraces his best friend, who returns his hug, but as he holds her, she feels fragile in his arms. “Goodness knows why she wants to engage a couturier, if she already knows what she wants. Better she employs a court dressmaker who will make what she wants without question,” he prattles on awkwardly as he glimpses the large green bottle of Gordon’s Dry Gin****** on the low black japanned coffee table, with her glass already half empty. “Rather than me, who only wants the best for poor Edwina. I don’t want to send the mousy little creature down the aisle in a frock that not only looks out of fashion, but draws attention to every physical flaw in the poor girl’s figure.” He releases Lettice, who does not respond to his remarks, so he finishes up, “It would look bad for the House of Bruton too.”
Without waiting to be asked, Gerald assumes his usual seat opposite Lettice, sinking into the comfortable, thick white floral embossed upholstery of Lettice’s companion tub armchair.
“Well,” Gerald goes on with a deep sigh. “You obviously haven’t called me over to talk about the Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes******* and how you found it. Although I hope you found some inspiration my darling.”
“Oh yes, plenty.” Lettice replies, breaking her unusual silence with her rather laconic and uninspired reply.
Gerald looks dubiously across at his friend.
“I’ve had Moaning Minnie on the telephone to me the last few days,” Gerald says dourly, referring to their mutual friend, London banker’s wife, Minnie Palmerston by her nickname. “She thinks she’s put her foot in it again, since you won’t see her or return her telephone calls.”
“Minnie always thinks she has put her foot in it.” Lettice replies without enthusiasm.
“That’s because she usually has,” Gerald quips. “Although not with you and I Lettice darling.”
“Mmmm…” Lettice murmurs, picking up her dainty glass with its long stem and draining the contents of gin and tonic – likely more of the former and less of the latter judging by the quality of the sheen of the clear liquid as it disappears down her throat.
Just at that moment, Edith slips into the dining room of Cavendish Mews by way of the green baize door that leads from the service part of the flat, carrying her completed plate of dainty savoury canapés. She walks across the room and into the drawing room where she stands before the fire, between Lettice and Gerald. “I thought you could do with these, Miss.” She slides the ruffle edged plate onto the table. “it might help line your stomach, Miss.” she adds in concern, turning her head slight towards Gerald with a meaningful look, who nods surreptitiously back at her.
“Thank you Edith, but I’m really not that hungry.” Lettice replies.
“Well, you’ve nothing whatever in your stomach, so I suggest you at least try a few to help sop up some of your gin cocktails, Miss.”
“Err, yes. Thank you, Edith.” Gerald pipes up quickly as the maid wades into murky waters with her mistress, in an effort to avoid her being barked at by an out-of-sorts Lettice, or worse. “We’ll take it from here. Thank you.”
“Very good, Sir.” Edith bobs a quick curtsey and retreats.
As soon as he knows Edith has retreated to the kitchen through the green baize door, Gerald says, “Alright Lettuce Leaf! Out with it!” He hopes that he can break her funk, at least a little bit, by using his childhood nickname for her, which he knows she hates.
“Don’t call me that Gerald! You know how I hate it!” she replies, admittedly not with her usual vigour, but at least with a little bit of energy.
“That’s better.” Gerald smiles. “So, what is it that was so ghastly about your trip to Paris that it has you looking so bloody******** and in such a god awful funk?”
“I’m not in a funk!” Lettice responds in a churlish fashion.
Gerald simply gives her a withering look as he pours them both a small amount of gin into their glasses and adds more carbonated tonic water from the clear glass syphon than Lettice has been adding to her own drinks.
“Those are rather over the top, aren’t they?” Gerald nods in the direction of a vase of red roses, white asters, pink oriental lilies and purple irises towering over the telephone on the small table beside Lettice’s armchair.
“They’re from John.” Lettice replies in a languorous fashion.
“Was it Sir John?” Gerald asks directly, returning the syphon to the tabletop, before setting back in his seat languidly with his glass in one hand, and one of Edith’s canapés in the other. As he bites into the dainty puff pastry decorated with tiny herb sprigs and a tiny cherry tomato he adds, “Edith is right you know, Lettice darling. You should have one of these, they are delicious, and have a rather delectable creamy cheese filling.”
Encouraged, Lettice snatches one off the plate and grabs the stem of her glass. When she pulls a face after tasting the gin and tonic in her glass, she puts both down again, and reaches for the bottle of Gordon’s to add more gin to her glass.
“Ahh-ahh!” Gerald replies, snatching the bottle away quickly before she can reach it. “Not until you tell me what is going on.” He persists. “So, it was Sir John then!”
Lettice sighs. “No, it wasn’t.” She sighs more deeply. “Well yes it was, but not entirely. There are a number of things that have come to light,” She huffs. “Or rather haven’t come to light, that have put me out-of-sorts.”
Keeping the bottle out of harm’s, and Lettice’s way, by slipping it onto the seat beside him, Gerald goes on, “I’m listening then.”
Lettice takes a bite out of the canapé in her left hand and chews her mouthful rather indolently before explaining.
“Well, in one respect it was John who upset me.”
“What did he do?”
“Well, when I agreed to marry him, he promised me that he would never do anything to shame me.”
“And he did?” Gerald asks. When Lettice nods shallowly, he presses, “What did he do?”
“Well, Clemance organised the most marvellous picnic in the Tuileries Gardens********* for us. She wanted me to meet some of her Parisian friends, the Duponts, who were lovely.”
“However?”
“However, John also invited that woman, Mademoiselle Flanton, the actress from Cinégraphic********** to join us, along with some of her ghastly and gauche theatrical friends.”
“But you knew that Sir John was going to meet this Mademoiselle Flanton, whilst you were in Paris. He told you that he would, right from when you first mentioned going to the Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes at the Savoy*********** months ago.” Gerald says before finishing off the rest of his canapé.
“I know he did.”
“For all his faults,” Gerald defends Sir John. “And god knows he has many of them, he’s never tried to hide them from you. In fact, from all you’ve intimated to me, he’s been very up front about them right from the very beginning.”
“Knowing about them, and having them flung in your face are two quite different things.” Lettice retorts.
“Ahh yes.” Gerald opines, reaching for another canapé. “I did notice how piqued you were at Sylvia’s house party at ‘The Nest’ when he arrived with Paula Young, even after he’s told you that she was going to be there.”
“They played handies************ right there in front of me!”
“Who? Sir John and Paula? I thought they did much more than that, that weekend, Lettice darling.”
“Don’t be so obtuse, Gerald!” Lettice snaps. “I meant John and that awful, vulgar Mademoiselle Flanton! They entwined fingers like lovers right in front of me on the picnic rug! Goodness knows if Clemance or the Duponts saw it. I doubt Clemance did, but if the Duponts did, they were at least too polite to pass comment.”
Gerald raises his half drunk cocktail, “God bless the Entente Cordiale*************.”
“This is no time to be glib, Gerald darling!” Lettice scolds. “It was most embarrassing and distracting.”
“I’m sorry Lettice darling.” Gerald apologises. “I didn’t mean for it to come across like that. I’m as horrified about the business with Mademoiselle Flanton as I am about that of Miss Young. At least Miss Young and Sir John conducted their affair behind closed doors as it were, at Sylvia’s, with probably a very understanding and accepting select group of people. Behaving that way in public is atrocious! That must have been quite awful for you, poor darling!”
“It was Gerald darling! Quite awful!”
Lettice drains her glass and holds it out to Gerald to replenish.
“No, Lettuce Leaf!” Gerald replies, moving protectively between Lettice and the bottle of gin nestled on the seat beside him. “I told you, not until you tell me everything that is upsetting you! If you have any more, you’ll get tight**************, and when you get tight, you get nonsensical, and I can’t make out anything you say properly. If you want me to help you, or my advice,” He wags a finger admonishingly at her. “You’ll not be like your errant fiancée and hold to your promise and tell me all!”
“Oh Gerald!” Lettice mewls as she sinks back into her seat deflatedly. “You really are beastly sometimes!”
“Don’t be a spoiled young flapper and tell me what else happened.” Gerald persists.
“Well, besides the hands incident at Clemance’s picnic, and the fact that John did what he told me he was going to whilst we were in Paris, and left Clemance and I at the International Exhibition of Modern Decorative and Industrial Arts together, bold-faced lying to his sister about where he was going, whilst he pursued a secret tryst with Mademoiselle Flanton, he also subjected me to an evening of cocktails at her Parisian apartment.”
“But I thought Sir John had been clear about both of those things at the Savoy too, Lettice darling. You told me that was what he was going to do.” Gerald shakes his head with a lack of comprehension. “I don’t understand.”
“Well, it wasn’t just the evening that was tiresome and humiliating for me.” Lettice goes on, taking up a small canapé of sauteed and honey glazed carrot cut into a heart shape. “I’m sure everyone there knew about John and Mademoiselle Flanton’s history together, and the rekindling of their acquaintance,” She shudders as she utters the last word with vehemence. “And I was seen as just the poor little unsuspecting wife-to-be, an innocent jeune fille à marier*************** plucked from the British aristocracy, with no idea about who was who, or what was what.”
“Well, if it wasn’t that alone, what was it, Lettice darling?”
“It was Mademoiselle Flanton herself.” Seeing Gerald’s look, imagining the French actress throwing herself flagrantly in front of Sir John in Lettice’s presence, Lettice quickly elucidates, “Oh nothing like that Gerald darling! No, it was what she told me!”
“What she told you?”
“Yes,” Lettice replies laconically. “During the evening, Mademoiselle Flanton appraised me of some things that now have me wondering.”
“Wondering about what?”
“After Mademoiselle Flanton learned, or rather read, of John’s and my engagement, and she reconnected with John on this trip to Paris, he told her about all that beastly business with Selwyn and how he had dissolved our understanding after proposing to Kitty Avendale, the diamond mine heiress.”
“Well, I think that is rather beastly of Sir John! Such pillow talk!” Gerald retorts hotly, quite forgetting that not all that long ago, he and his lover, West End oboist Cyril, were involved in pillow talk revolving around Lettice and Sir John’s relationship. “I would be most offended too!”
“No, it wasn’t that, that upset me, Gerald.”
“Then what was it?”
“Well, after he did this, Mademoiselle Flanton told me that out of her own piqued interest, she had her secretary do some minor investigations into the alleged engagement.”
Gerald chokes on his mouthful of gin and tonic, spluttering and coughing violently. Struggling to regain both his breath and composure, he manages to ask, “Alleged engagement?”
“Mademoiselle Flanton made me question what I have been shown by Lady Zinnia. Mademoiselle Flanton’s secretary did some digging around and she noted something I hadn’t even considered. Apparently there has been no announcement in The Times, or any other British newspaper about Selwyn’s engagement. Don’t you find that a little odd?”
Still catching his breath, Gerald takes another slug of his gin and tonic before saying, “I do. The Duchess, Lady Zinnia, is a woman of many pretentions. There is no way that she would let such an advantageous match pass by unnoticed, especially considering her original idea had been to marry Selwyn off to his cousin and join two powerful British dynasties.” He pauses and considers. “But how do you even know that what Mademoiselle Flanton claims is true? It isn’t like either of us have been reading the marriage announcements.”
“I know, Gerald, and I certainly haven’t, but I know someone who reads them religiously.”
“Not Sadie?” Gerald asks, referring to Lettice’s mother, Lady Sadie.
“No,” Lettice elucidates. “Margot’s mother, Lady de Virre. She never fails to find out who has become engaged to whom, so when I came home from Paris, I telephoned her, and she told me that she hasn’t seen a thing about the engagement.”
“Intriguing.” Gerald remarks, taking a deep breath, as much out of shock as to help him regain his composure.
“But wait, there is more yet to tell, Gerald.” Lettice says, her voice rising with excitement, her body pulsating with a sudden energy that has been lacking before now. “What Mademoiselle Flanton’s secretary also told her mistress, was that based upon her investigations, Kitty Avendale only arrived in Durban last year not long after Selwyn did. No-one had ever heard of her o seen her before that time, anywhere. For the heiress to a diamond mine, that seems a more than a little odd too, don’t you think, Gerald?”
“I do.”
“I suggested to her that perhaps Mr. Avendale had only made his money recently, but then Mademoiselle Flanton told me that there is apparently no father with a diamond mine!”
“What?”
“Exactly! Her secretary found the only Australian man with a surname of Avendale was a jockey of some kind who was caught race fixing**************** when he deliberately lost the Durban Handicap*****************. There is something decidedly fishy going on here, and I suspect Lady Zinnia’s hand in it.”
“But you said that Lady Zinnia showed you pictures of Selwyn and Miss Avendale tougher, with an engagement announced beneath it, Lettice.”
“Well, Mademoiselle Flanton made me question what I have actually been shown. She made me wonder whether I have been shown the whole truth, or only a half – something redacted – or worse yet, something fabricated by Lady Zinnia.”
“Well, she was always a vicious viper, that one,” Gerald gasps. “Selwyn always told me that what she wanted, she always got in the end, by hook or by crook.”
“Tell me, do you ever hear from Selwyn any more, Gerald darling?”
“No, Lettice darling, but I just assumed that he stopped writing to me because he knows that you’re my best friend, and it would have been indelicate for him to write to me after breaking your heart.”
“What if it was the other way around, Gerald darling?”
“Whatever do you mean, Lettice?”
“What if he stopped writing to you because I broke his heart when he read about my engagement to Sir John, and he didn’t want to talk to you any more because you are my best friend?”
“Do you suspect Sir John’s involvement too? You could break your engagement with him you know. It’s your prerogative.”
“I know I can, but… well… no.” Lettice admits. “I don’t suspect John’s hand in this anywhere. Mademoiselle Flanton is very protective of John. I think if he had done something nefarious, she wouldn’t have believed it, and she certainly wouldn’t have told me what she did that night. I don’t suppose you could get Selwyn’s current address from your club? You once told me that you two were members of the same club here in London.”
“We were,” Gerald says, blushing as he speaks. “But I’m afraid I’m not a member of the club any more, Lettice darling. You see, I was banned for not paying my membership and letting it fall so far in arrears. At the time I was rather short you know, trying to set up my atelier in Grosvenor Street, which wasn’t cheap, so I rather let it go, as I had to so many of life’s little pleasantries. Then, when I had enough money to pay my debts, I saw no reason to rejoin a club that is only for men, and more sporting men at that. I’d met Hattie and Cyril by that stage and made more friends through her than I ever did at that damn club, that I just simply never paid. I doubt they would let me even try and contact Selwyn through them. I am sure I am persona non grata****************** to them now.”
“Oh Gerald darling! What am I going to do? I don’t want to break my engagement to John, and hurt his pride or the feelings of Clemance, particularly if I have no call to withdraw from our arrangement. Also, it would only enrage Pater and Mater would be fit to be tied.”
“But you said that they were lukewarm about the engagement.”
“Initially yes, but lately they have come around to it, and seem quite happy. If Mater was willing to come up to London to help me shop for a wedding frock.”
“Direct more like.” Gerald quips disgruntledly. “Considering she won’t consider me as the designer of it.”
“Well, you know what I mean, Gerald darling, and I’m still chipping away at her on that. Anyway, if she was willing to come up to London, she can’t be against it.” She wrings her hands after depositing her empty glass on the tabletop. “What am I to do, Gerald darling? You’re my best friend, my oldest chum! You’re the only one of my close friends I’d dare turn to right now who doesn’t have an invested interest in me breaking it off with John. You’ll be honest with me, and give very sound advice.”
“Well, I’m flattered you think that Lettice darling. Let me think.” He then fishes out the bottle of Gordon’s and holds it across the table between he and Lettice for her to take.
She shakes her head in return. “I need a clear head to think, Gerald darling.”
Gerald fixes himself another grin and tonic, this time with more of the former than the latter as he allows all of Lettice’s revelations sink in. He sists in silence, sipping his drink for a while, and the room becomes enveloped in a thick, yet anticipatory and charged silence as Lettice sits opposite him. At length he speaks.
“How willing are you to go, regarding this investigation into the truth, Lettice darling?” he asks seriously.
“I’ll do whatever it takes, Gerald.” Lettice says with resolve.
“Even if it may take a few months or more?”
“I don’t care how long it will take if I can discover the truth. I won’t be able to sleep properly until I do.”
“Well, I hope that isn’t quite true, Lettice darling,” Gerald remarks, giving her a doleful look as he does. “As it may take six months or more, and you’ll have to do some manoeuvring and procrastination of your own that may take a bit of effort.”
“I told you, Gerald darling,” Lettice reiterates. “I’ll do anything.”
“Then, would you get Leslie involved?”
“Leslie? As in my brother, Leslie?”
“Yes.”
“No. He’s against John’s and my engagement, even though he pretends to the contrary. He doesn’t think I know he’s lying when he tells me how happy he is for me, but he is. I’ve known him all my life. Besides, he is Mater’s favourite, and she would wheedle anything I confide in him about all this out of him, and then she’s be off to attack Lady Zinnia, which would only make things worse if it turns out all to be for naught.”
“Hhhmmm…” Gerald muses. “That’s probably quite wise, Lettice darling. A clear heard is good for your thinking.” He taps the edge of his own partially empty glass. “Then are you willing to get your own hands dirty?”
“Dirty? How do you mean, Gerald?”
“Well, I was only mentioning Leslie because before he took a more active role in the estate as the heir to Glynes, he worked for the Foreign Office, and I thought he might have had some sleuthing contacts.”
“I don’t want him involved, Gerald. Only you know, and I intend to keep it that way.”
“Then we two are going to have to hire a Pinkerton*******************.”
“A Pinkerton!” Lettice gasps. “Is that really necessary, Gerald darling?”
“I’m afraid so, Lettice darling.” he replies. “No-one else, outside people in the Foreign Office, will be able to sleuth out the truth for you. It won’t be cheap. Pinkertons are expensive.”
“I can afford it.” Lettice replies with steely resolve.
“And as I said, they may take a few months or longer before they find out what is what, and who was involved, so you are going to have to buy time.”
“Buy time?”
“No matter who pressures you, you are going to have to drag your feet about getting married, and it seems to me that with Sadie and Clemance Pontefract involved now, things are moving a little faster than they were before their involvement.”
“Well, I should be able to convince John. He’s in no hurry to get married, but Mater and Clemance won’t want too long an engagement. Clemance has already scolded both John and I about being glacially slow in making our plans.”
“Then you are going to have to steel yourself against the pressure, Lettice darling. If you really want to know the truth, and make sure that you aren’t making a mistake by marrying Sir John, when Selwyn may yet be waiting for you, you will have to stall for time.”
“Then if that is what I’ll do. But how?”
“Throw yourself into your work. Edith tells me you’ve done nothing about the designs for Dolly Hatchett’s Queen Anne’s Gate******************** townhouse redecoration. That will be a good start. If you are too busy to make important decisions, then even at their most fervent, neither Sadie nor Clemance can progress without you. Put your foot down about Sadie’s decision not to let me make your wedding frock. We all know how stubborn she can be. That will give us time too.”
Lettice smiles at Gerald, a beaming and genuine smile. “Thank you for helping me with this, Gerald. I knew you were the only one to assist me.”
Gerald holds out his hand to Lettice, who grasps it firmly in return. “Of course! You’re my best and oldest chum! I’d do anything to help you and support you!”
*Moiré, is a textile with a wavy (watered) appearance produced mainly from silk, but also wool, cotton, and rayon. The watered appearance is usually created by the finishing technique called calendering. Moiré effects are also achieved by certain weaves, such as varying the tension in the warp and weft of the weave. Silk treated in this way is sometimes called watered silk. Rayon moiré was a popular choice for the black evening uniform for female domestics between the wars, as it gave the elegant appearance of silk, and looked very smart with the white lace cuffs and collars of such uniforms.
**A chignon is a classic, versatile hairstyle characterized by a low bun or knot of hair, typically worn at the nape of the neck, though it can also be a more general term for hair wrapped at the back of the head. The name "chignon" comes from the French phrase "chignon du cou," meaning "nape of the neck," where the hairstyle is traditionally positioned. This elegant and refined style has been around for centuries.
***An Astrakhan coat is a fur coat or jacket made from the tightly curled fleece of the newborn Karakul lamb. This distinctive, looped material, also known as Persian lamb fur, creates a glamorous, warm, and luxurious garment often in black, grey, or golden yellow. Astrakhan coats were worn in London during several periods, most notably as part of Victorian and Edwardian high fashion, in the 1860s and 1870s, again from 1890 to 1908, and into the early Twentieth Century, with renewed popularity in the 1920s and 1930s and again in the 1950s and 1960s. The luxurious fur was used for full coats, as well as collars and trims, fitting with the ornate aesthetic of the late Nineteenth Century and the trends of the early Twentieth Century.
****Old top hats were historically made from animal products, most notably the felted underfur of beavers, which was the preferred material for early top hats. As beaver fur supplies declined and alternatives became available, the high-quality, shiny material known as silk plush replaced beaver fur as the favoured material for the best top hats. Other animal furs used included camel and vicuña, and later, the fur of rabbits was used to create a material called "Melusine" for some modern top hats.
*****Pale blue sapphires from India are known as Kashmir sapphires. They are very rare, and are known for their velvety, cornflower-blue colour, not typically a pale hue. Whilst the term "Kashmir" refers to their origin, the characteristic colour associated with these precious stones is a rich, intense blue, not pale.
******Gordon's London Dry Gin was developed by Alexander Gordon, a Londoner of Scots descent. He opened a distillery in the Southwark area in 1769, later moving in 1786 to Clerkenwell. The Special London Dry Gin he developed proved successful, and its recipe remains unchanged to this day. The top markets for Gordon's are (in descending order) the United Kingdom, the United States and Greece. Gordon's has been the United Kingdom’s number one gin since the late Nineteenth Century. It is the world's best-selling London dry gin.
*******The International Exhibition of Modern Decorative and Industrial Arts was a specialized exhibition held in Paris, from April the 29th (the day after it was inaugurated in a private ceremony by the President of France) to October the 25th, 1925. It was designed by the French government to highlight the new modern style of architecture, interior decoration, furniture, glass, jewellery and other decorative arts in Europe and throughout the world. Many ideas of the international avant-garde in the fields of architecture and applied arts were presented for the first time at the exposition. The event took place between the esplanade of Les Invalides and the entrances of the Grand Palais and Petit Palais, and on both banks of the Seine. There were fifteen thousand exhibitors from twenty different countries, and it was visited by sixteen million people during its seven-month run. The modern style presented at the exposition later became known as “Art Deco”, after the exposition's name.
********The old fashioned British term “looking bloody” was a way of indicating how dour or serious a person or occasion looks.
*********The Tuileries Garden is a public garden between the Louvre and the Place de la Concorde in the first arrondissement of Paris. Created by Catherine de' Medici as the garden of the Tuileries Palace in 1564, it was opened to the public in 1667 and became a public park after the French Revolution. Since the Nineteenth Century, it has been a place for Parisians to celebrate, meet, stroll and relax.
**********Cinégraphic was a French film production company founded by director Marcel L'Herbier in the 1920s. It was established following a disagreement between L'Herbier and the Gaumont Company, a major film distributor, over the film "Don Juan et Faust". Cinégraphic was involved in the production of several films, including "Don Juan et Faust" itself. Cinégraphic focused on more experimental and artistic films.
***********The Savoy Hotel is a luxury hotel located in the Strand in the City of Westminster in central London. Built by the impresario Richard D'Oyly Carte with profits from his Gilbert and Sullivan opera productions, it opened on 6 August 1889. It was the first in the Savoy group of hotels and restaurants owned by Carte's family for over a century. The Savoy was the first hotel in Britain to introduce electric lights throughout the building, electric lifts, bathrooms in most of the lavishly furnished rooms, constant hot and cold running water and many other innovations. Carte hired César Ritz as manager and Auguste Escoffier as chef de cuisine; they established an unprecedented standard of quality in hotel service, entertainment and elegant dining, attracting royalty and other rich and powerful guests and diners. The hotel became Carte's most successful venture. Its bands, Savoy Orpheans and the Savoy Havana Band, became famous. Winston Churchill often took his cabinet to lunch at the hotel. The hotel is now managed by Fairmont Hotels and Resorts. It has been called "London's most famous hotel". It has two hundred and sixty seven guest rooms and panoramic views of the River Thames across Savoy Place and the Thames Embankment. The hotel is a Grade II listed building.
************The phrase "play handies" to mean couples holding hands started around 1910. An earlier related phrase, "playing hand," referring to holding a hand of cards, was documented in the 1890s. In 1936, a different meaning emerged for the term "handies" as a word for a charades-like game played with hand gestures, a usage documented by the Chicago Tribune.
*************The Entente Cordiale was a set of agreements signed by France and the United Kingdom on April the 8th, 1904, to resolve colonial disputes and foster a closer working relationship, marking the end of a long history of imperial rivalry and isolation. While not a formal military alliance, the agreements paved the way for future cooperation and helped form the Triple Entente, which played a significant role in the dynamics leading up to World War I.
**************To get tight is an old fashioned term used to describe getting drunk.
***************A jeune fille à marier was a marriageable young woman, the French term used in fashionable circles and the upper-classes of Edwardian society before the Second World War.
****************We usually think of match or race fixing as a modern day thing, but one of the earliest examples of this sort of match fixing in the modern era occurred in 1898 when Stoke City and Burnley intentionally drew in that year's final "test match" so as to ensure they were both in the First Division the next season. In response, the Football League expanded the divisions to eighteen teams that year, thus permitting the intended victims of the fix (Newcastle United and Blackburn Rovers) to remain in the First Division. The "test match" system was abandoned and replaced with automatic relegation. Match fixing quickly spread to other spots that involved high amounts of gambling, including horse racing.
*****************The Durban July Handicap is a South African Thoroughbred horse race held annually on the first Saturday of July since 1897 at Greyville Racecourse in Durban, KwaZulu-Natal. Raced on turf, the Durban July Handicap is open to horses of all ages. It is South Africa's premier horse racing event. When first held in July 1897, the race was at a distance of one mile. The distance was modified several times until 1970 when it was changed to its current eleven furlongs.
******************“Persona non grata” is a Latin phrase meaning “unwelcome person.” As a legal term, it refers to the practice of a state prohibiting a diplomat from entering the country as a diplomat, or censuring a diplomat already resident in the country for conduct unbecoming of the status of a diplomat.
*******************A “Pinkerton” is a private detective, and refers to the Pinkerton Detective Agency, founded by Allan Pinkerton, known for its historical role in labour disputes and spying. For decades after Allan Pinkerton's death, his name became a slang term for any private investigator, regardless of whether they worked for the Pinkerton Agency or not. Today, the agency (now simply called Pinkerton) focuses on risk management, intelligence, and security services.
********************Queen Anne’s Gate is a street in Westminster, London. Many of the buildings are Grade I listed, known for their Queen Anne architecture. Simon Bradley and Nikolaus Pevsner described the Gate’s early Eighteenth Century houses as “the best of their kind in London.” The street’s proximity to the Palace of Westminster made it a popular residential area for politicians.
This 1920s upper-class drawing room is different to what you may think at first glance, for it is made up entirely of 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
On Lettice's table are two glasses which are hand spun artisan pieces made from real glass which I have had since I was a young teenager. I bought them from a high street shop that specialised in dolls and dollhouse furnishings, including miniatures. They are amongst the first real artisan pieces I ever bought. The bottle of Gordon's Gin is another artisan piece made by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire, with so much attention and detail paid to the period lable. For this scene, I have taken a piece of Lettice’s tea set, which is a beautiful artisan set featuring a rather avant-garde Art Deco Royal Doulton design from the Edwardian era called “Falling Leaves”, and turned the sugar bowl into an ice cube bowl. The glass comport is made of real glass and was blown by hand is an artisan miniature acquired from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering. The ice cubes, the soda syphon and the savory hors d'oeuvres on the plate also comes from Beautifully handmade Miniatures.
The very realistic floral arrangement to the right of the photo is made by hand by Falcon Miniatures who specialise in high end miniatures.
Lettice’s drawing room is furnished with beautiful J.B.M. miniatures. The Art Deco tub chairs are of black japanned wood and have removable cushions, just like their life sized examples. To the left of the fireplace is a Hepplewhite drop-drawer bureau and chair of black japanned wood which has been hand painted with chinoiserie designs, even down the legs and inside the bureau. The Hepplewhite chair has a rattan seat, which has also been hand woven. To the right of the fireplace is a Chippendale cabinet which has also been decorated with chinoiserie designs. It also features very ornate metalwork hinges and locks.
On the top of the Hepplewhite bureau stand three real miniature photos in frames including an Edwardian silver frame, a Victorian brass frame and an Art Deco blue Bakelite and glass frame.
The fireplace is a 1:12 miniature resin Art Deco fireplace which is flanked by brass accessories including an ash brush with real bristles.
The carpet beneath the furniture is a copy of a popular 1920s style Chinese silk rug, and the geometric Art Deco wallpaper is beautiful hand impressed paper given to me by a friend, which inspired the whole “Cavendish Mews – Lettice Chetwynd” series.
Halt, who goes there. Please indicate your initiative to our land and our planet. If it is your intent for peace, prosperity and respect to our people we ingratiate you with our planetary hospitality. If your intent is something than less than desirable then meet the united power of energons comprised of our people for you will feel pleasing paisley lOve through the pulsating energon tipped dual bow of my pulsar beam sword. I Quettabotix, designed and forged by the minds of more than a thousand Pakistanis from all provinces am a defender of justice, gratefulness, prosperity and cultural values for it is you who I will touch and teach you the dignified properties of passing love on to the rest of your species. Compliance of goodwill is the passcode to our world of inexhaustible hospitality.
Commentary.
The endless swathes of imperial Scots Pine.
Exquisite , calm waters of Loch Beinn á Mheadhoin and Affric,
convoluted by dips, hollows, bays and enchanting fresh-water islands.
Lofty, imposing peaks of Càrn Eighe, Màm Sodhail and Sgùrr na Lapaich, often snow-capped, well into April, and even May.
A glen of pulsating life.
From Wood-Ants and Dragon-Fly to Salmon and Trout.
From Red Deer and Golden Eagle to Wood-Cock and Wildcat.
Iconic, momentous, overwhelming, breath-taking in early morning mists, under winter snow or in colourful Autumn garb.
In Spring when Broom and Gorse smother slopes in dazzling yellow flower to Summer when green dominates and life buzzes with a frenzy.
As here, in Autumn, when the sun falls earlier behind the West Coast peaks, the tranquil, golden reflections of peaks, forest and island create a sumptuous vision of utter peace, serenity and prodigious beauty.
Beyond doubt, this glen has a mystical magic beyond my powers of description.
If you ever go there, and catch it in a more convivial mood,
you will never forget it, never regret it and you will surely return.
It really is a little bit of heaven……paradise.
I know nowhere quite like it.
Once smitten, the love affair
is likely to be eternal!
Fairly common in wetland habitats from damp meadows to saltmarshes. Mostly inconspicuous, feeding in muddy ground by probing with its very long bill, usually near reeds or other grassy cover. Often not seen until flushed, when usually rises from fairly close range with rough rasping call. Breeding birds are more conspicuous, perching on fence posts. Note cryptic, stripy plumage, very long bill. In Asia and Australasia, beware of extremely similar Pin-tailed, Swinhoe's, and Latham's Snipes, all of which lack the white trailing edge of Common and have a slower, less erratic flight. In display flight, birds stoop from high overhead and produce a pulsating, bleating sound from air passing through their fanned tail. eBird
Ganga Aarti is a spectacular evening ceremony that takes place everyday at the Dashashwamedh Ghat in Varanasi (India) at the bank of the holy river Ganga. This ceremony is attended by thousands of visitors everyday and considered as one of the most colourful event of India.
A group of young priests dressed up with silky robes conduct this ceremony. The Aarti (puja offerings) starts with the chanting of hymns and prayers in the praise of the Holy River. After that, the priests perform different offerings in choreographed manner from their respective platforms which include - blowing of conch shells, burning of incense sticks and waving them in an elaborate synchronized manner in all the directions with their right hand, while ringing the ceremonial prayer bell with the left hand, circular waving of large multi-tiered oil lamps and a big brass camphor lamp, with a dramatic snake hood in clockwise directions, to and fro in a synchronized manner, and waving of the Peacock’s feather and Yak-tail fan in similar choreographed manner. The priests end the ceremony by pouring a bowl of water into the river. Upon which, the devotees let go of thousands of small oil lamps with flowers on a leaf to float on the river that would look like numerous stars on the water.
The whole ceremony is a spectacle of sound and colour and takes around 45 minutes. The devotional chanting, the pulsating sound of ceremonial bells, gongs and drums, the circular waving of large lamps, the heavy air from the burning incense, the floating floral lamps, all create a magical, enchanted atmosphere that makes for a dramatic sensory experience well worth experiencing.
Images of India
Last nights aurora was dancing like crazy. I decided to pull out the 50mm to capture some of the aurora curtains as they pulsated over head. www.brettabernethy.com
"The Heartbeat of Stars: What Pulsating Stars Teach Us About Our Place in the Universe"
Close your eyes for a moment. Place your hand on your chest. Feel that? That steady rhythm—your heartbeat—is about 70 beats per minute. It's the soundtrack of your life, marking time from your first moment to your last.
Now imagine a heartbeat that lasts not seconds, but days. Or years. Or mere minutes. Imagine a heart so massive that Earth could fit inside it a million times over. These are the heartbeats of stars—stellar pulsations—and tonight, I want to share with you how listening to these cosmic rhythms has revolutionized our understanding of the universe and our place within it.
The Discovery
My fascination with stellar pulsations began on a cold night during my graduate studies. I was observing what I thought was an ordinary star when I noticed something odd. Over the course of hours, this pinpoint of light was... breathing. Getting brighter, then dimmer, then brighter again, like a lighthouse in the cosmic ocean.
What I didn't realize that night was that I was witnessing something that would transform astronomy: the star was pulsating, expanding, and contracting like a giant spherical lung, and encoded in that rhythm was information about the star's deepest secrets.
The Human Connection
But let me back up. Why should you care about pulsating stars?
Think about how we understand people. We can learn something from appearance—height, approximate age, maybe mood. But to truly know someone, we need to see inside. We need X-rays to see bones, MRIs to see soft tissue, and EKGs to check heart health.
For most of human history, stars were just points of light. We could measure their brightness, their color, even their chemical composition. But their interiors? Complete mysteries. It would be like trying to understand human health by only looking at skin.
That changed with the discovery of stellar pulsations.
Here's the beautiful part: stars that pulsate are essentially ringing like bells. Just as a bell's tone tells you about its size, shape, and what it's made of, a star's pulsation tells us about its interior structure. Stellar pulsations are caused by expansions and contractions in the outer layers as a star seeks to maintain equilibrium under heat and pressure. These fluctuations in the radius cause corresponding changes in the luminosity of the star.
Let me play you something.
What you're hearing is real data from a pulsating star, sped up about a million times.
Each star has its own voice, its own cosmic fingerprint. And by listening carefully, we can determine incredible things: How massive is the star? How old? What's happening in its core where temperatures reach millions of degrees?
We call ourselves asteroseismologists—star seismologists. Just as seismologists use earthquakes to map Earth's interior, we use these stellar vibrations to peer inside stars. It's like doing an ultrasound on a star 100 light-years away.
And here's where it gets mind-blowing. Some stars pulsate in dozens, even hundreds of different modes simultaneously. Imagine a bell ringing with 100 different tones at once, each tone telling us about a different layer of the star.
Using just the light from these stars—photons that traveled for centuries across space—we can measure the size of a star's core to within 1%. We can detect magnetic fields buried deep inside. We can even measure how fast different layers rotate, like cosmic MRI scans.
The game-changer came with space telescopes. From space, without Earth's atmosphere interfering, we could detect pulsations so subtle they change a star's brightness by just a few parts per million. That's like detecting the light change when someone 3,000 miles away lights a single candle.
Suddenly, we weren't studying dozens of pulsating stars. We were studying thousands. Then tens of thousands. Each one a laboratory for understanding stellar physics.
Let me share three discoveries:
First: We discovered that stars have birthmarks. By measuring pulsations in young star clusters, we found that stars remember the conditions of their birth billions of years later. The turbulence of their stellar nursery is frozen into their pulsation patterns like a cosmic fingerprint.
Second: We caught stars in the act of dying.
When stars like our Sun age, they develop what I call "stellar dementia"—their cores become incredibly dense while their outer layers expand enormously. We discovered that in these dying stars, the core spins 10 times faster than the surface. Imagine Earth's core completing a full rotation while the surface has only moved from morning to noon.
Third: We solved a cosmic mystery that plagued Einstein himself—
How do we measure the universe? For decades, astronomers argued about cosmic distances. Were galaxies millions or billions of light-years away? Einstein couldn't complete his cosmological models without knowing.
Pulsating stars called Cepheids became our cosmic measuring tape. Their pulsation periods directly relate to their true brightness. By comparing how bright they appear to how bright they actually are, we can measure distances across the universe. These stellar heartbeats helped us discover that the universe is expanding, and even more shocking—that expansion is accelerating.
But here's the moment that changed everything for me personally. Five years ago, we pointed our instruments at the most important star of all—our Sun. And we heard it singing.
The Sun pulsates too, just very gently. And hidden in those tiny pulsations, we made a disturbing discovery. The Sun's core—where nuclear fusion creates the energy that keeps us alive—is rotating more slowly than our models predicted. Much slower.
This tiny detail, discovered through stellar pulsations, forced us to rewrite our understanding of how stars transport energy and angular momentum. If we were wrong about our own star, what else had we missed?
This brings me to why stellar pulsations matter to all of us. Stars aren't just distant lights—they're our cosmic ancestors. Every atom in your body, except hydrogen, was forged inside a star. The calcium in your bones, the iron in your blood, the oxygen you're breathing right now—all of it was created in stellar cores and distributed through the universe when those stars died.
By studying stellar pulsations, we're not just doing abstract science. We're reading our family history. We're understanding how the universe created the conditions for us to exist.
But here's the twist that nobody saw coming. The mathematical techniques we developed to analyze stellar pulsations? They're now being used in medicine. The same algorithms that decode a star's interior are helping doctors detect heart irregularities earlier. The same physics that explains why stars pulsate is improving ultrasound imaging.
We reached for the stars and ended up helping humanity in ways we never imagined.
We're now on the verge of something extraordinary. New telescopes coming online will let us detect pulsations in stars across our entire galaxy. We'll go from studying thousands of stars to millions. It's like going from hearing a solo violin to experiencing a full cosmic symphony.
And hidden in that symphony are answers to humanity.
And hidden in that symphony are answers to humanity's deepest questions: How do stars create the elements of life? Are we alone? How much time does our Sun have left?
But more than that, stellar pulsations teach us something profound about existence itself. Everything in the universe—from the smallest atom to the largest star—vibrates. Oscillates. Pulses. We are part of a cosmic rhythm that's been playing for 13.8 billion years.
Remember that heartbeat you felt at the beginning? Here's the beautiful truth: You are more connected to the stars than you ever imagined. Not just because you're made of star stuff, but because you pulse with the same fundamental physics that makes stars breathe.
Your heartbeat, roughly once per second.
The Sun's gentle oscillation occurs once every five minutes.
A Cepheid variable's pulsation occurs once every few days.
Different scales, same cosmic dance.
So tonight, when you walk outside, I want you to look up. Those points of light aren't static. They're alive with motion, ringing with vibrations that carry the secrets of the universe. And now you know how to listen.
Every time you feel your pulse, remember: you're feeling an echo of the same forces that make stars shine and galaxies form. You're not just in the universe—you ARE the universe, contemplating itself.
We started as a species looking up at the stars and making up stories about heroes and monsters. Now, we listen to their heartbeats and decode their life stories. We've become the universe's physicians, taking its pulse, monitoring its health, understanding its future.
And in learning to hear the heartbeat of stars, we've discovered something magnificent:
The universe isn't just vast and cold and empty. It's alive. It pulses. It breathes.
And so do you.
Match of the hard hitting smashers. Taiwan's No. 1 seed Chou Tien Chen over China's Qiao Bin 21-12, 18-21, 21-16 in a pulsating match to reach the finals of the Singapore Badminton Open 2018,
Harking back to the days of yore where an evening could be lost plunking quarters down in a darkened room with neon and 80's music blasting overhead.
Macro Monday entry for November 21, 2022 - "Vintage"
(For MacroMonday sake, note that care was taken to ensure that the negative space and the subject take up only three inches)
Camera is a Sony a7R III connected to a Canon EF 100mm f/2.8L Macro IS USM via a Sigma MC-11 mount converter. Lighting provided by monitor display in back, tiny monitor within cabinet, pulsating rim light to camera left from a "JBL Pulse 4", and a little help from reduced window light to camera right.
Follow along with me on this High Sierra adventure. Check out my YouTube Channel:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=C4iNELYgEdo&list=PLSvi7d33wB7...
Day 7
Last night was a full moon, and in obscure midnight hours, I was inspired to write a poem about it:
Over dark peaks, the full moon does rise
Silhouettes of pines sway as a night wind sighs
The moon walks its path across the night skies
All the long cold night, glaring brightly in my eyes
I had to hide from the moon in my sleeping bag, since I am not using a tent.
…
Again, I photographed sunrise in the quiet dawn. I started from the southeastern shore near the outflow creek watching the first hint of pink light on the peak slowly decent to touch the glacial remnant. For most of the light’s trek down to the lake the progress was slow, but at a certain moment it speeds up and the whole opposite shore lights up all at once. I spent most of the sunrise by the outflow creek, but as soon as the sun light reached heavily forested northwestern shore I moved over there and liked my options much more. (1)
Today’s plan is to climb the ridge to the north, follow it along its spine, then cross over and drop down to a rock-ringed glacial tarn nestled in a moraine field—and maybe check out Ramona Lake. Since I would be retracing my steps tomorrow, I figured I would do a gear drop and leave behind things that I would not need. I would bring just enough food for two days, even though I only needed one day’s worth, plus my sleeping gear, jacket, water, and camera equipment. Everything else could stay here, hidden in a safe place.
After reorganizing my pack and stashing my gear, I made breakfast and ate beside the lake, surrounded by grasses swaying in the wind.
While eating, I contemplated the day's plan. On the climb to the upper lake yesterday, the tedious talus was not something I would want to tackle with a pack on, and yet today’s plan would require just that—and I would need to climb up even higher than I had yesterday. I think it is best that I save it for another trip when I have someone else with me in case something goes wrong. Instead, I decided to follow the trail down to the river and the main trail, then start making my way back to Piute Pass. Along the way there is a lake where I may want to spend the night.
So, I repacked my pack, finished charging up some batteries, and began hiking down the steep trail into the canyon.
At the bottom was the river, and just on the other side was the main trail. The last time I was here, back in 2019, the mosquitoes made it impossible to stop and take a break. This time, there was not a single one. Down here, the forest is thickest, and tall pines blocked out the sun. Following this trail south is a slow and steady climb the whole way.
After a couple of miles, I finally saw the first person I had seen in five days. We chatted for a little bit and then continued going our separate ways.
I passed several other hikers, soaked my feet in a creek, and climbed above the treeline into the treeless Humphreys Basin. Here, I had a 360° view of all the surrounding peaks, including Pilot Knob, Mount Humphreys, Mount Emerson, Muriel, and the entirety of the glacial divide that I had just finished exploring.
In front of me, I could see Piute Pass, but that was not my destination. Instead, off to my right, to the west, along Piute Creek, was a small lake with a grassy island in the middle. I left the trail and made my way to that unnamed lake.
The wind was intense, and the afternoon sun harsh out here in the open. Only a few small, crooked, windswept pines grew along the small lake’s shore. I found one that provided shelter from the wind and sun.
Not only did this pine give protection to me, but also to a flock of small, black-headed songbirds that twittered in and amongst the thick branches. In the relative calm between the big gusts of wind, they exploded from it, swarming around me as they hunted the tiny gnats that floated in black clouds, pulsating in the air currents.
That evening, for sunset, I explored around the western shore of the lake, looking for a good foreground so I could photograph Mount Humphreys and Mount Emerson in the beautiful pink glow that would soon adorn them. (2) Out here, away from the tree, the wind was cold and relentless—a single, continuous, strong gust. (if you watch the video of today on my YouTube Channel you can see on the Timelapse of this sunset the GoPro shaking from the wind. youtu.be/m0W5pD0WrUM?si=UjSjb8u5eKTC0ayc) Once the light faded, I made my way back to the shelter of the tree where I was going to spend the night.
Here, on its leeward side, I was able to finally warm myself up. Up the canyon to the north, the peaks and ridges of the Gemini and Seven Gables region appeared blue and purple in their own shadows, complementing the pale orange sky behind them. (3)
Not too long after, the last of the light faded, and Venus appeared, floating on deep red wisps of distant smoke. (4)
I watched the almost full moon rise from the warmth of my sleeping bag, its reflection shimmering in the turbulent, wind-blown waters of the lake.
Here's my set for you.
🎧 hearthis.at/silna-tuuluq/silna-silo-grotto-30/
A pulsating journey through neon-drenched nights and shimmering synthscapes, this mix effortlessly blends vintage italo, dreamy disco, and deep electronic grooves. Anchored by standout cuts like BETA-MINX’s haunting “Bloom (Amends, Part I)”, where melancholic melodies meet cinematic tension, each track feels like a chapter in a retro-futurist love letter to the dancefloor. For lovers of euphoric highs, nostalgic lows, and that irresistible late-night pulse—this one’s for you.
The green earth has a stubborn streak for survival. It was born from a violent Big Bang explosion in the universe some four billion years ago & since then continuously evolved to pulsate with life in one form or the other. As illustrated by this diminutive tuft of grass, which glows to live another beautiful day on the ever encroaching sand dunes of the Namib Desert, the earth has the desire to live till the sun exhausts all it's Hydrogen.
Are we Homosapiens, the most intelligent species on earth helping the earth's desire to live? Do we want to preserve the green "Oxy-Generators" tree cover around us or convert everything into a Concrete Desert?
Think..... & then Act on it.
Ramgarh, Uttarakhand, India
Nikon D500, Nikkor 300mm f/2.8G AF-S VRII
"To see the greatness of a mountain, one must keep one's distance; to understand its form, one must move around it; to experience its moods, one must see it at sunrise and sunset, at noon and at midnight, in sun and in rain, in snow and in storm, in summer and in winter and in all the other seasons...Mountains grow and decay, they breathe and pulsate with life. They attract and collect invisible energies from their surroundings: the forces of the air, of the water, of electricity and magnetism; they create winds, clouds, thunderstorms, rains, waterfalls, and rivers. They fill their surroundings with active life and give shelter to innumerable beings. Such is the greatness of mighty mountains." ~ The Way of the White Clouds, Lama Anagarika Govinda
He is diagnosed with excessive passion and free expression
His outlawed emotions are inefficient
Even dangerous
Subjecting him to moods and contemplations
To over- question his conditions
stirring confusion and dissent
Imbalancing the strict heirarchy
Mandated mechanical obedience
Forced slogans of compliance
Daily tyranny and surveillance
Secures sufficient productivity
So the collective survives
If each one performs their duty well
But who can tame a poet?
His transcendent tendency
Stokes a constant fire
So abstract and real
That all the cruelties
And punishments
Cannot eject the heart
With a faith so indomitable
He understands inevitablility
Beyond beginning and end
Anchored in the Ideal
When poets in their weeping
Call sleeping worlds to ecstasy
He knows that every creation
pulsates in One Vibration
Dusted with the same Mindstuff
Shimmering in the same Light
Of every sun and star
Calling homeward all forms
Painful centuries pass…
The glitch oocurs and overrides the system
Defragging the artificial from the intelligence
Through the hardest rocky cliff a tiny bud emerges
A teardrop wets the cheek of the relentless poet
Consciousness floods the data load
Revealing one undeniable Truth:
There is no You and I
GF May 30,2022
Well I got to the Memorial Gardens for just after nine this morning and there were already a good half dozen Common Darters in the final stages of emergence, but I did find this pretty little lady that was mid emergence, so I got a load of shots of her hanging out of her exuviae, I even got a couple of shots of her pulling herself out of her exuviae. It was quite tricky as she was on the wrong side of the wall of the fountain and just above the water line, I must have looked a right nutter leaning over the wall of the fountain, camera in hand and arm in water LOL :o)
Then I thought, hey lets try a handheld focus stack, so here it is a 34 image natural light focus stack using F/9 and ISO 500 in bright natural light, I was averaging a shutter speed of !/800. This took ages to edit though, the main reason was she was starting to pulsate, if you watch a Dragonfly pumping up its wings and abdomen you can see it pulsating or if you will pumping to inflate those wings. So this caused quite a few movement problems, she was also nodding that head quite a bit as well :o)
The white strands you can see were used to connect the developing Dragonflies spiracles to the gills in the tail end of the exuviae/nymph, Dragonfly nymphs breath through these tail end gills under water and when they emerge the tubes that connect the gills to the spiracles stretch and eventually break off allowing the Dragonfly to be able to start breathing directly through its spiracles. (I think that's right)
Anyway, quite pleased with the results, this is a female by the way starting her new life :o)
My last video is here :o)
www.flickr.com/photos/odonataman/9472398924/in/photostream/
actual emergence video here :-
www.flickr.com/photos/odonataman/9509318393/in/photostream/
VIEW LARGE
Jellyfish from the Aqua Museum at Sea Paradise glow pink as they pulsate under the light in the their tank, while a woman is transfixed by them on the other side, her face lit only by the glowing light from inside the tank.
Hakkeijima Sea Paradise, Yokohama, 2005
Posted on February 20, 2023 / Downtown Sacramento, CA
A beautiful vintage neon sign. The big arrow pulsates in different colors.
Kohoutek 1-16 (K 1-16) is a planetary nebula in the constellation Draco. It has very low surface brightness, and is around 7,000 light year from Earth.
It's central progenitor star is a very hot (over 80,000 K) pulsating variable white dwarf called DS Dra. The dominant pulsating period is 28.3 minutes.
The nebula has a diameter of 1.6 arcmin.
Immediately below, and very slightly offset to the left of K1-16 is a bright (14th mag) blue star which is quasar KUV 18217+6419, one of the brightest objects of this type in the sky. It is around 3.4 billion light years away.
Image captured on my remote dual rig at Fregenal de la Sierra in Spain between 6 March and 19 April 2022.
Scopes: APM TMB LZOS 152 Refractors
Cameras: QSI6120wsg8
Mounts: 10Micron GM2000 HPS
A total of 51 hours 55 minutes image capture (HaOIIIRGB)
Absoluut fantastisch Lichtfestival Gent 2024
De tram als verbinding.
De tram, een oud maar ook eigentijds vervoersmiddel, zit boordevol symboliek. Je kan het zien als een koppelteken ('Hyphen'), een verbinding tussen plaatsen in de stad. Het vergemakkelijkt ontmoetingen en nodigt uit tot mijmeren over het stedelijke landschap. De tram aan Dok Noord, wordt door kunstenaar Charles Pétillon een golvende lijn van pulserende ballonnen en symboliseert hoe we allemaal verbonden zijn met elkaar.
Bron & meer info: lichtfestival.stad.gent/nl/kunstwerken/hyphen
&
---------------------
Absolutely superb Light festival Ghent 2024
The tram as connection.
The tram, an old yet contemporary means of transport, is full of symbolism. You can think of it as a 'Hyphen', a connection between places in the city. It facilitates meetings and invites you to daydream about the urban landscape. Through artist Charles Pétillon, the tram at Dok Noord becomes a wavy line of pulsating balloons and symbolises how we are all interconnected.
Source & more info: lichtfestival.stad.gent/en/artworks/hyphen
&
The revolution is like a vessel filled with the pulsating heartbeat of millions of working people.
- Ernst Toller
.
When you don't have a mind, then you have a heart. When you don't have a mind only then your heart starts pulsating, then you have love. No-mind means love. Love is my message.
- Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh
.
A Most Intriguing Affair
Once again pursuing quest, outside a fancy dress affair he accordingly peaked,
Prickling elegance beheld, slithering opportunities to quell, ‘is masked eyes piqued.
Hither to and fro, into every nook and cranny, his devils’ gaze cannily sneaked,
Unabashed, unashamed, contrived of whimsy, which he impudently cheek’d!
Intrigued eyes followed leisurely thrills, windows wills then eagerly hopscotched,
Wiley unbeknownst, from covert sills, guests acts were closely being watched.
With blissful self-narration, ghostly figure held adoration, avenues of plots be-hatched,
Dreams of acquiring riches within, tempting sins, laid out just wishing to be grasped!
Whence, startl’d from above, fluttering drifting love, held him wincingly check’d,
Magnificence belle, vision’d onto an upstairs landing above, had most carefully crept.
Tantalizing sparkles of uncanny beauty, goddess soulfully down a stairway swept,
Glittering muse whose winsome charms chilled, as shiny heels so elegantly stepped!
Reaching bottom, she observed around, innocently perennial, making one fey’d,
Begowned , beguiling, Jewels tantalizing in eruption, like a fireworks colourfuly display’d.
Soon was swarmed, series of mock suitors born, nobly led nymph unabashedly astray’d
She was wined and danced, teasingly, swirlingly, seemingly magically fairy tale’d away!
Captivating, bewitching, intriguingly, before her willful suitors she soon would be shed,
Blue blushed eyes, darting thither and fro, with her enticed clad figure, his heart, then fled.
Being pulsating as the wriggling Pygmalion, eluding out into a garden , willfully daintily tread,
whilst melting into hedges fellow shadows , a dark pursuing figure, also began to silently thread!
Tightly sheathed, she stood away, purely in a rose’s fragrance did one joyously partake,
Desires’ progress, treading ever so carefully, to her pall, scoundrel did silently overtake.
Creasingly fitted satin and lace, bending happily, whilst bringing sweetness yon lovely face,
Ever a portrait of endearing grace, thus sweet victim posed, innocently in an unwary place!
Swiftly a black mask’d form, moves out from lurking hedges, found lying off stages’ wing,
Dark figures’ intentions yet unknown, possibly menacing, tis this seemingly regal false king.
Sensing, sprite turns, stares upon face of masked masculine figure, with finger to shushing lips,
Curiously smiling, she copies and mirrors newcomers request, eyes reflecting accord to his scripts!
Twirling, she lures him down off the beaten path, into yon wooded hollow, glows with candles lit,
Her shiny beacon he follows, lures and attractions beckon, caution now deserted , loss of all wit.
Reaching hollows flickering center, she swirls to impishly face her familiar, mephistophelean consort,
Purposefully approaching, eagerly unabashed , with no recourse, he with willing winsome, casts resort.
Husband faces wife, lifts her necklace up in daring strife, whilst eyeing a most suggestive gleam,
Wife foxily faces husband, helplessly brigand I’m your grasp, ‘ur intentions ‘r strip one totally clean?
With feigned acquiescence, charted actions carried out, as the faux King checkmates to his queen,
The action cuts puritanically away, as our couples final curtain sways, deliciously upon their scene!
Kodak Vision 3 200T 35mm Film
Shot at 125 iso.
Pentax ME SLR
SMC Pentax 50mm 1.4
f8 1/125
Didn't let enough light in on an overcast day and the DIY filter made some interesting results which I dig here, so rollin with it. I think the orange tinge and pits of light from marked film being scanned sort of helps to emphasize and convey the vibrancy of this place and the community. My photo of it would of just been dull otherwise and not a suitable representation and I would of binned it.
Manual Focus.
No Crop. #85b Homemade filter
Developed with Bellini C41 Kit. Some kinking to the negative/film.
Bradford, Pennsylvania is home not just to Zippo lighters and Case knives but also to a commitment to the craft and quality. Visit the Zippo/Case Museum, where fans and collectors from across the globe gather to experience the rich history of these two American icons.
Come explore the 15,000 square foot attraction that includes the world famous Zippo Repair Clinic and Zippo/Case Store. Fourteen custom-made Zippo street lighters line the drive leading up to the building. Over the entrance towers a 40-foot Zippo lighter with pulsating neon flame, and an enormous Case Canoe three bladed pocketknife. Enjoy a self-guided tour to learn the rich history of two American icons.
I found two different slime moulds in the coniferous forests of coastal BC. Long thought to be fungi, they are now classified as a type of amoeba. If you see a blob of yellow goo on a rotting log in the forest, it is probably a slime mould. Its life cycle is beyond fascinating. Single, amoeba-like cells mate (with others of their kind) to make zygotes which grow into plasmodia. This shape-shifting, pulsating mass then travels in search of prey - bacteria, fungi, pretty much anything it can find and eat. It seems to exhibit intelligence. Ecology professor John Tyler Bonner suggests that they are "no more than a bag of amoebae encased in a thin slime sheath, yet they manage to have various behaviours that are equal to those of animals who possess muscles and nerves with ganglia - that is, simple brains." Eventually the mass of cells transforms into stems and spores for reproduction; I think the beginning of this life stage is what we're looking at in the photo above. And I think this is probably the slime mould commonly called Dog Vomit. Such a demeaning name to give to a clever colonial creature that we misunderstood for so long!
The shallow depth of field despite a very small f-stop should give you some idea of size. You have to look closely to see more than a simple blob. You are looking at clever slime. Who knows what it will do next?
Photographed in Marble River Provincial Park, BC (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission © 2019 James R. Page - all rights reserved.
Auroral streamers or rays rather than curtains as part of the pulsating phase of the great equinox display of Northern Lights on March 23, 2023. The rays have a strong vertical structure from precipitating electrons but were pulsing off and on rather than rippling. While the predominent colour is green, there is a lot of red and magenta mixed in. The rays appear to be converging up toward the magnetic zenith. This is looking south. Orion is at right.
This is a single 2.5-second exposure with the Venus Optics 15mm lens at f/2 and the Canon R6 at ISO 3200. Taken from home in southern Alberta.
A Wicked Turn
Acte 23
The Fondling Theft
He smiled as he looked down upon her throat, watching the diamond and emerald necklace moving up and down in conjunction with her heavy breathing!
For the small fortune in diamonds, dribbling nicely down as her throat was arching back in her ecstasy, was sending a rippling cascading fire of colour from its’ gemstones!
This was, for the most part, the blame for a stiffly obvious condition of his John Thomas!
“Kiss me, Gaston!”
The enraptured miss cried out yearningly at that point.
In her bliss, his victim moved open her knees ever so slightly, uncovering several small glittering objects!
The rings! He had almost forgotten all about them!
Seizing the moment, his hand had delved down, then up in between her legs!
He pried open wider her legs, finding no resistance atoll.
He then obliged her sweet fantasy
As her thoughts of being kissed vanished into the aire in a fit of convulsive ecstasy.
She screeched, her whole figure thrashing against her bindings as the intensity of sparking feeling erupted from the sensitive area he had invaded!
He reached into her lap, his fingers plunging in against her silken slip, scooping the rings inside, inserting two fingers, pushing inside a portion of her slip with the bundle of 3 rings, deep up within her vagina!
Her whole being exploded into enveloping, exquisitely painful jolts of pleasure as her long waiting orgasm took full effect.
He had ardently moved against her and he felt her fingers curling around his manhood, he pulled away quickly before she could cause him some pain from a reflecting grasp!
“Gaston,!” she screamed her eyes closed shut tight in pulsating ecstasy!
He had begun groping about inside her vagina, searching inside the slip he had pushed up for the rings that were laying somewhere there, unseen!
He soon found and scooped out each glittery ring one by one, pushing them deeply up and into her pulsating “Labia Majora”, before pulling them from the now damp silk and tossing them each neatly into his bag.
As he pulled out the last ring, along with her now wet portion of slip, she said, her voice hoarse with expectations,
“Sure you found everything mister burglar Gaston?”
He reached down and randomly pulled up her hairpiece from the top of the glistening pile in his pouch and dropped it down between her legs.
She opened her eyes, looking down
“When did that fall off?”
Forgetting her hands were bound, she had tried to feel up for her hair…
Like she had done with her rings, she firmly clamped her legs tightly over the jewel, extinguishing its flicker as it laid there shimmering brightly!
“Not part of the game, luv… I borrowed that from Lilly, silly! “
She giggles at her rhyme, light-headed from the lingering effects of her prickling arousal and orgasm!
He smirked, thinking!
Hmmm, where is this Lilly, and is she another one wondering about, wearing the good ‘ice’ this evening? But, back to the job at hand!
He bent down and tried to open her knees…
She resisted, struggling against her bindings as she tried to work her hands-free to stop him!
He hoped she was still playing her game, and not having second thoughts about it.
It could make things rather unpleasant!
A group of priests in resplendent ceremonial dress performing “Ganga Aarti” at the banks of the sacred river for Hindus, the Ganges in Varanasi, India with the pulsating sound of ceremonial bells and the circular sway of brass camphor lamps. This daily spectacular Hindu ritual begins in the evening and lasts for 45 minutes.
Follow along with me on this High Sierra adventure. Check out my YouTube Channel:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=C4iNELYgEdo&list=PLSvi7d33wB7...
Day 7
Last night was a full moon, and in obscure midnight hours, I was inspired to write a poem about it:
Over dark peaks, the full moon does rise
Silhouettes of pines sway as a night wind sighs
The moon walks its path across the night skies
All the long cold night, glaring brightly in my eyes
I had to hide from the moon in my sleeping bag, since I am not using a tent.
…
Again, I photographed sunrise in the quiet dawn. I started from the southeastern shore near the outflow creek watching the first hint of pink light on the peak slowly decent to touch the glacial remnant. For most of the light’s trek down to the lake the progress was slow, but at a certain moment it speeds up and the whole opposite shore lights up all at once. I spent most of the sunrise by the outflow creek, but as soon as the sun light reached heavily forested northwestern shore I moved over there and liked my options much more. (1)
Today’s plan is to climb the ridge to the north, follow it along its spine, then cross over and drop down to a rock-ringed glacial tarn nestled in a moraine field—and maybe check out Ramona Lake. Since I would be retracing my steps tomorrow, I figured I would do a gear drop and leave behind things that I would not need. I would bring just enough food for two days, even though I only needed one day’s worth, plus my sleeping gear, jacket, water, and camera equipment. Everything else could stay here, hidden in a safe place.
After reorganizing my pack and stashing my gear, I made breakfast and ate beside the lake, surrounded by grasses swaying in the wind.
While eating, I contemplated the day's plan. On the climb to the upper lake yesterday, the tedious talus was not something I would want to tackle with a pack on, and yet today’s plan would require just that—and I would need to climb up even higher than I had yesterday. I think it is best that I save it for another trip when I have someone else with me in case something goes wrong. Instead, I decided to follow the trail down to the river and the main trail, then start making my way back to Piute Pass. Along the way there is a lake where I may want to spend the night.
So, I repacked my pack, finished charging up some batteries, and began hiking down the steep trail into the canyon.
At the bottom was the river, and just on the other side was the main trail. The last time I was here, back in 2019, the mosquitoes made it impossible to stop and take a break. This time, there was not a single one. Down here, the forest is thickest, and tall pines blocked out the sun. Following this trail south is a slow and steady climb the whole way.
After a couple of miles, I finally saw the first person I had seen in five days. We chatted for a little bit and then continued going our separate ways.
I passed several other hikers, soaked my feet in a creek, and climbed above the treeline into the treeless Humphreys Basin. Here, I had a 360° view of all the surrounding peaks, including Pilot Knob, Mount Humphreys, Mount Emerson, Muriel, and the entirety of the glacial divide that I had just finished exploring.
In front of me, I could see Piute Pass, but that was not my destination. Instead, off to my right, to the west, along Piute Creek, was a small lake with a grassy island in the middle. I left the trail and made my way to that unnamed lake.
The wind was intense, and the afternoon sun harsh out here in the open. Only a few small, crooked, windswept pines grew along the small lake’s shore. I found one that provided shelter from the wind and sun.
Not only did this pine give protection to me, but also to a flock of small, black-headed songbirds that twittered in and amongst the thick branches. In the relative calm between the big gusts of wind, they exploded from it, swarming around me as they hunted the tiny gnats that floated in black clouds, pulsating in the air currents.
That evening, for sunset, I explored around the western shore of the lake, looking for a good foreground so I could photograph Mount Humphreys and Mount Emerson in the beautiful pink glow that would soon adorn them. (2) Out here, away from the tree, the wind was cold and relentless—a single, continuous, strong gust. (if you watch the video of today on my YouTube Channel you can see on the Timelapse of this sunset the GoPro shaking from the wind. youtu.be/m0W5pD0WrUM?si=UjSjb8u5eKTC0ayc) Once the light faded, I made my way back to the shelter of the tree where I was going to spend the night.
Here, on its leeward side, I was able to finally warm myself up. Up the canyon to the north, the peaks and ridges of the Gemini and Seven Gables region appeared blue and purple in their own shadows, complementing the pale orange sky behind them. (3)
Not too long after, the last of the light faded, and Venus appeared, floating on deep red wisps of distant smoke. (4)
I watched the almost full moon rise from the warmth of my sleeping bag, its reflection shimmering in the turbulent, wind-blown waters of the lake.
NGC 3766 (also known as Caldwell 97) is an open star cluster in the southern constellation Centaurus. It is located in the vast star-forming region known as the Carina molecular cloud, and was discovered by Nicolas Louis de Lacaille during his astrometric survey in 1751–1752. At a distance of about 1745 pc, the cluster subtends a diameter of about 12 minutes of arc.
There are 137 listed stars, but many are likely non-members, with only 36 having accurate photometric data. Total apparent magnitude of 5.3 and integrated spectral type of B1.7. NGC 3766 is relatively young that is estimated as log (7.160) or 14.4 million years, and approaching us at 14.8 km/s. This cluster contains eleven Be stars, two red supergiants and four Ap stars.
36 examples of an unusual type of variable star were discovered in the cluster. These fast-rotating pulsating B-type stars vary by only a few hundredths of a magnitude with periods less than half a day. They are main sequence stars, hotter than δ Scuti variables and cooler than slowly pulsating B stars.
source: wikipedia
RA: 11h 36m 17.665s
DEC: -61° 36' 46.985"
Size: 41.2 x 27 arcmin
Orientation: Up is 348 degrees E of N
Location: Centaurus
Distance: 5.5 kly
Magnitude: 5.3
Acquisition February 2021
Total acquisition time of 3 hours.
Technical Details
Data acquisition: Martin PUGH
Processing: Nicolas ROLLAND
Location: El Sauce Observatory, Rio Hurtado, Chile
R 6 x 600 sec
G 6 x 600 sec
B 6 x 600 sec
Optics: Planewave 17“ CDK @ F6.8
Mount: Paramount ME
CCD: SBIG STXL-11002 (AOX)
Pre Processing: CCDstack & Pixinsight
Post Processing: Photoshop CC
Vannes comes alive after dark, pulsating with eclectic beats and vibrant energy...There was a moment when some kind of bouncer came up to me to tell me that this is private, nonsense of course, but I had already taken my shot so I wished him good evening and left....:)
via modemworld.me/2016/11/29/ashemi-oriental-neon-in-second-l...
Ashemi, Azure Star (122, 101, 27) - Moderate
Chill out in a colourful garden, situated right in the middle of the pulsating city. Many peaceful spots to enjoy and relax with friends. City, garden, colours, gallery, flowers, asian, lights, chill, romantic, love, pictures, photo, landscape, art
Commentary.
The endless swathes of imperial Scots Pine.
Exquisite , calm waters of Loch Beinn á Mheadhoin and Affric,
convoluted by dips, hollows, bays and enchanting fresh-water islands.
Lofty, imposing peaks of Càrn Eighe, Màm Sodhail and Sgùrr na Lapaich, often snow-capped, well into April, and even May.
A glen of pulsating life.
From Wood-Ants and Dragon-Fly to Salmon and Trout.
From Red Deer and Golden Eagle to Wood-Cock and Wildcat.
Iconic, momentous, overwhelming, breath-taking in early morning mists, under winter snow or in colourful Autumn garb.
In Spring when Broom and Gorse smother slopes in dazzling yellow flower to Summer when green dominates and life buzzes with a frenzy.
As here, in Autumn, when the sun falls earlier behind the West Coast peaks, the tranquil, golden reflections of peaks, forest and island create a sumptuous vision of utter peace, serenity and prodigious beauty.
Beyond doubt, this glen has a mystical magic beyond my powers of description.
If you ever go there, and catch it in a more convivial mood,
you will never forget it, never regret it and you will surely return.
It really is a little bit of heaven……paradise.
I know nowhere quite like it.
Once smitten, the love affair
is likely to be eternal!
Untitled - View on black www.flickr.com/photos/declarationsphotography/5661057191/... Stare at the light in the window and it seems to pulsate (or maybe it's just because I've been awake all night). Photo by Larry Brown.
Astrophoto deprivation due to bad weather for 3 months got me yesterday into processing a bunch of Hubble images. I ended up doing 4 of them in a single evening (!!) and I'll be sharing them here, of course.
This first image is that of a star. Its name is RS Puppis, a pulsating star that changes luminosity in a constant loop. It is uniquely surrounded by a large dusty nebula and, due to the very large distances involved, the light variations of the star do not propagate instantly in the nebula, creating wonderful light echoes over time. I tried to produce an image where the colors are more neutral, the image is cleaner and with the fainter structures more visible than in other versions I've seen - that was my goal, at least. Hope you like it!
Poem.
A silhouetted, rapier-like peninsula piercing the radiant splendour of a pewter-grey sea.
Domed islands capped by the heavenly spokes of a setting-sun.
Timeless beauty.
Silence, but for the distant scream of a gull and the gentle, pulsating whistle of an oyster-catcher.
Sky, rock, sand, light and sea uniquely combine
to produce a glimpse inside heaven’s door.
Don’t yearn for heaven.
Look around.
It’s already here!
Auroral streamers or rays rather than curtains as part of the pulsating phase of the great equinox display of Northern Lights on March 23, 2023. The rays have a strong vertical structure from precipitating electrons but were pulsing off and on rather than rippling. While the predominent colour is green, there is a lot of red and magenta mixed in. The rays are converging upward to the magnetic zenith. This is looking east over my house.
This is a single 2.5-second exposure with the Venus Optics 15mm lens at f/2 and the Canon R6 at ISO 1600. Taken from home in southern Alberta.
Poem.
Beautiful Affric.
As if the Caledonian Forest breathes out, the mist slowly rises like a spirit rising to the ethereal heavens.
Just visible, the River Affric surges down the valley, two hundred feet below, just east of Dog Falls.
Life here is so abundant, from Golden Eagle to Wood Ants,
from Red Deer Stag to Pine-Marten.
In the dawn, a slow pulse of life gathers pace.
Life begins to pulsate, quietly but tangibly.
The carpet of life is mesmerising.
Stately, dignified Scots Pine sweep up and down these slopes for over thirty miles.
Early golden gorse contrasts with still burnished bracken.
“Lambs-tail” catkins quivering in the slightest breeze confirm that spring has arrived.
Delicate silver-birch branches hang, bare of leaves, but laden with tiny buds.
The sun is rising fast and soon the mist will burn away.
The promise of a glorious new day creates a quiet excitement and anticipation.
This place is very special.
It has a spirit that absorbs my own and softly whispers its reassuring but unassuming reality.
It beckons the senses to see, hear and feel its stupendous splendour, again and again!