View allAll Photos Tagged Perfect
this is rebecca..
she is the little girl who lives nearby.
her dad is dutch, she mom is honduran, and so she is learning to speak english, spanish and dutch.
she loves bob, and often hear her calling him.. 'bob.. bob.. bob...'
so sweet
i am waiting for the right light for my last 365 shot. can't believe it?!!
still not feeling great.. just taking it easy today. ear infection, sore throat and headache.
Palma Violets
A Perfect Day Festival 2012
Villafranca di Verona (VR), Italy
01 settembre 2012
This image is copyright © Roberto Finizio. All right reserved. This photo must not be used under ANY circumstances without written consent.
for info and photos visit my website www.robertofinizio.it
Questa immagine è protetta da copyright © Roberto Finizio. Tutti i diritti sono riservati. L'immagine non deve essere utilizzata in nessun caso senza autorizzazione scritta dell'autore.
per info e materiale fotografico visita il mio sito www.robertofinizio.it
Dedicated to my husband, Perfect Stranger...
May the sun rise and set on many, many days for us together. Ameen.
These Buff-rumped thornbills are smart and located their nest in the old Mugga Lane zoo behind wire mesh of exactly the right size to keep out predators.
Also perfect for me since the old zoo site is awash with dumped rubbish and I was able to retrieve a working chair and sit in luxurious comfort not so far away, watching the comings and goings of these birds as they fed their chicks.
The 105mm f/2.5 AIS MF Nikkor Lens are supposed to be just perfect for shooting portraits. So, I should find some models soon. For now, I just add a boring selfie cause I'm really eager to share my joy of the new toy. God, I really need to buy a tripod ... (nothing's better than giving gifts to myself :P)
3/30 - 02.Feb.09
Lilah and her friend, the "Popcorn Princess" as I dubbed her cos she could not get enough of this stuff. I gave her a bag to take home with her.
The cemetery is located on the former site of Bonaventure Plantation, originally owned by Colonel John Mullryne. On March 10, 1846, Commodore Josiah Tattnall III sold the 600-acre (2.4 km2) plantation and its private cemetery to Peter Wiltberger. The first burials took place in 1850, and three years later, Peter Wiltberger himself was entombed in a family vault.
Major William H. Wiltberger, the son of Peter, formed the Evergreen Cemetery Company on June 12, 1868. On July 7, 1907, the City of Savannah purchased the Evergreen Cemetery Company, making the cemetery public and changing the name to Bonaventure Cemetery.
In 1867 John Muir began his Thousand Mile Walk to Florida and the Gulf. In October he sojourned for six days and nights in the Bonaventure cemetery, sleeping upon graves overnight, this being the safest and cheapest accommodation that he could find while he waited for money to be expressed from home. He found the cemetery even then breathtakingly beautiful and inspiring and wrote a lengthy chapter upon it, "Camping in the Tombs."
"Part of the grounds was cultivated and planted with live-oak (Quercus virginiana), about a hundred years ago, by a wealthy gentleman who had his country residence here But much the greater part is undisturbed. Even those spots which are disordered by art, Nature is ever at work to reclaim, and to make them look as if the foot of man had never known them. Only a small plot of ground is occupied with graves and the old mansion is in ruins.
The most conspicuous glory of Bonaventure is its noble avenue of live-oaks. They are the most magnificent, planted trees I have ever seen, about fifty feet high and perhaps three or four feet in diameter, with broad spreading leafy heads. The main branches reach out horizontally until they come together over the driveway, embowering it throughout its entire length, while each branch is adorned like a garden with ferns, flowers, grasses, and dwarf palmettos.
But of all the plants of these curious tree-gardens the most striking and characteristic is the so-called Long Moss (Tillandsia usneoides). It drapes all the branches from top to bottom, hanging in long silvery-gray skeins, reaching a length of not less than eight or ten feet, and when slowly waving in the wind they produce a solemn funereal effect singularly impressive.
There are also thousands of smaller trees and clustered bushes, covered almost from sight in the glorious brightness of their own light. The place is half surrounded by the salt marshes and islands of the river, their reeds and sedges making a delightful fringe. Many bald eagles roost among the trees along the side of the marsh. Their screams are heard every morning, joined with the noise of crows and the songs of countless warblers, hidden deep in their dwellings of leafy bowers. Large flocks of butterflies, flies, all kinds of happy insects, seem to be in a perfect fever of joy and sportive gladness. The whole place seems like a center of life. The dead do not reign there alone.
Bonaventure to me is one of the most impressive assemblages of animal and plant creatures I ever met. I was fresh from the Western prairies, the garden-like openings of Wisconsin, the beech and maple and oak woods of Indiana and Kentucky, the dark mysterious Savannah cypress forests; but never since I was allowed to walk the woods have I found so impressive a company of trees as the tillandsia-draped oaks of Bonaventure.
I gazed awe-stricken as one new-arrived from another world. Bonaventure is called a graveyard, a town of the dead, but the few graves are powerless in such a depth of life. The rippling of living waters, the song of birds, the joyous confidence of flowers, the calm, undisturbable grandeur of the oaks, mark this place of graves as one of the Lord’s most favored abodes of life and light."
- "Camping in the Tombs," from A Thousand Mile Walk
Greenwich Cemetery became an addition to Bonaventure in 1933.
Our last day turned out to be the best. The peaks of Garibaldi in behind.
Jan. 2010
Garibaldi Provincial Park, BC
I bowled a perfect game....So now I can always tell my wife, "see I'm perfect, I have proff"....God, life is good
It is black and white week in Beyond Layers. I did apply some of the techniques described in this weeks lesson. However, I could not bring myself to loose that lovely golden glow. It just wasn't the same.
* bespoke precast concrete manhole system
* monolithic base unit
* no requirement for concrete surround
* watertight
* fast installation
* perfect hydraulics
* safer construction
* minimum 120 year design life
For further information please call 01538 380500, email sealed_manhole@marshalls.co.uk or visit www.marshalls.co.uk/commercial/product/sealed-manholes
The Hardy Perfect is one of the most highly regarded of all fly reels, and has been in the Hardy catalogs for the longest period. The Hardy Perfect was patented in 1891, and variations were manufactured for over 100 years until it was discontinued.
This reel (3 5/8") was probably made in the late 1930s. Unlike some early Hardy reels, it does not bare the initials of the individual who finished-off the reel.
A quase dois anos cheguei a essa casa. Há quase dois anos que a conheço, e que meus sentimentos só se tornam maiores com o passar dos dias. Conquistar Serena não foi fácil. Ela é uma mulher incrivelmente teimosa devo dizer. Talvez seja isso que eu mais goste nela, sua teimosia. Além de ser linda e doce, talvez a pessoa mais doce que tive o prazer de conhecer. Mais do que namorados, nos tornamos amigos, companheiros, nos tornamos uma só pessoa.
Eu já havia ouvido falar de amores assim, de encontro de almas. Em minha raça, encontrar uma companheira é de extrema importância. Minha surpresa foi descobrir que Serena seria a quem eu escolheria a que mudaria minha vida.
Eu era só um garoto, inrresponsavel e apenas atrás de sangue. Mas algo mudou em mim no dia em que a conheci. Aos poucos amadureci, e com minha shellan ao meu lado, me tornei definitivamente o Rei da minha raça. Trouxe grandes responsabilidades pra minha vida, mas nada é mais importante do que ver Serena feliz.
Mas algo vem mudando há dois meses. Serena esta com o humor instável, e algo nela parece se iluminar quando a vejo sorrir. Pequenas mudanças, quase imperceptÃveis, mas a uma em particular que me deixou curioso... Seus batimentos. Hora mais fracos e baixos, hora mais frequentes como antes. Algo... Diferente.
Esperava o momento certo de tornar nosso relacionamento oficial. Não queria apenas um "namoro", queria finalmente ter nossa união, das duas formas, a dos vampiros e a dos humanos. Apenas vinha esperando o momento certo, o momento certo para ela
A verdade é que acho que me descuidei em alguma hora, a verdade é que acho que ha mais alguém em nossas vidas agora.
-----------------
Postando algo pra distrair a mente^^~
I went out in search of Autumn colours, the brightest reds and powerful yellows. Instead my favourite snap of the day is this shot as we passed a field. Quickly fired the camera off as we cruised passed in the Campervan.
Bridges connect communities, so there's always been something fascinating to me with how overpasses divide worlds. Here where Highway 101 roars high above Clementsport Road and the West Moose River, there's no intersection or off-ramp. The breathless pace of full-speed traffic and the winding crawl of a rural road exist in perfect separation. You could barely blink while hurtling over, and never notice what lies below. That distancing quality of infrastructure has a pull on me, the long way around to get from one point to the next by motorized transport. Oh, sure, I could mount the slope with a thirty second sprint – but it's ten minutes minimum driving. The need just isn't there for most folks. Though once, I did drop someone on the highway shoulder so he could stumble to a house near below. The chill of concrete calls me, like dead branches, like ice intruding inward. All my most moving beauty is stark.
January 24, 2025
Clementsvale, Nova Scotia
bluesky | etsy | facebook | instagram
substack | threads | tumblr | youtube
You can support my work
get things in the mail
and see everything
first on Patreon