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"When the whole universe weighs upon us there is no other
counterweight possible but God himself--the true God, for in
this case false gods cannot do anything, not even under the name
of the true one. Evil is infinite in the sense of being indefinite:
matter, space, time. Nothing can overcome this kind of infinity
except the true infinity. That is why on the balance of the cross a
body which was frail and light but which was God, lifted up the
whole world. 'Give me a point of leverage and I will lift up the
world.' This point of leverage is the cross. There can be no other.
It has to be at the intersection of the world and that which is not
the world. The cross is this intersection."
~ Simone Weil
Gravity and Grace
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*Photograph composition was created for the Our Daily Challenge topic:
A BALANCING ACT
Architects: Rosemary Stjernstedt, A.W.Cleeve Barr and Oliver Cox of the LCC's Housing Division, 1955. Point block with in-situ concrete frame, the floor plates providing horizontal banding. Curved services enclosure on flat roof. Projecting balconies, with original panelling according to Grade 2 listing. Alton East Estate, Roehampton, London Borough of Wandsworth.
(CC BY-NC-ND - credit: Images George Rex)
The remains of on old jetty at Cleveland Point in South East Queensland. Shot with a Tokina 12-24mm f/4 lens using a B+W 0.9 ND filter and a 3 stop soft grad Lee Filter.
Lake Superior - Grand Marais, MN
Hanging down by the harbor late afternoon produced some nice shots of warm sunshine off the rocks and interesting cloud formations out over the lake. This is looking east towards the area called Artists Point.
Copyrighted 2009
Côte d’Azur #pointdevue #fortmontalban #radedevillefranche #panorama #villefranchesurmer #saintjeancapferrat #cotedazur #baiedevillefranche #paysage #frenchriviera #patm666photos
We didn't expected it but when returning from North Ronaldsay the ferry didn't go between the islands but around Sanday so tried to take a few shots as the sea was wild at that time.
Built in 1888 to make the entrance to the Milwaukee River, North Point Lighthouse was moved back and raised up in 1912 to its present location and height.
It was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1984 and decommissioned as a lighthouse ten years later. It has been a maritime museum since 2007.
Marshall Point Light Station was established in 1832 to assist boats entering and leaving Port Clyde Harbor. The original lighthouse was a 20-foot (6.1 m) tower lit by seven lard oil lamps with 14-inch reflectors.
The original tower was replaced with the present lighthouse in 1857. The lighthouse is a 31-foot (9.4 m) tall white brick tower on a granite foundation. The tower was originally lit with a 5th order Fresnel lens. A raised wooden walkway connects the tower to land.
The light station was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1988.
The lighthouse appeared in the 1994 film Forrest Gump.
The light station was transferred to the town of St. George in 1998 under the Maine Lights Program. The fog signal has been dismantled but the bell remains on display. (Wikipedia)
Standing at the site of what was once Point Lookout, along an abandoned section of Old US Highway 70 near Mill Creek.
On May 1, 1870, the Point Arena Lighthouse became the first of three tall coastal towers in California to commence service during the 1870s. The other two towers, built in a similar style, were constructed at Pigeon Point and Piedras Blancas.
To construct the lighthouse at Point Arena, three kilns were built at the point to fire roughly 500,000 bricks needed for the tower. An additional 114,000 bricks of superior quality were shipped from San Francisco to build the outside courses of the tower. The height of the tower was 100 feet, and a fixed, first-order Fresnel lens was exhibited from the lantern room. Near the base of the tower, a large two and a half story, brick dwelling was built to house four keepers and their families.
The Annual Report of the Lighthouse Board for 1883 noted that the station was "located on a projecting point, the outer face of which is on an almost perpendicular bluff, made peculiarly dangerous by the liability of sudden caving near the edge of the earth overlying the sand-rock. One of the labourers fell over this bluff and was drowned. A picket-fence 1,400 feet long was built around the structures to prevent further accident."
In 1896, the present fog signal building was constructed to replace one built in 1870, which was being threatened by erosion. The fog-signal apparatus was relocated to the new structure, and the former characteristic of a five-second blast of the whistle uttered at intervals of twenty-five seconds was retained.
During the lighthouse's tenth year of operation, the first occurrence of an earthquake was recorded in the keeper's log on June 7, 1880. With the San Andreas fault lying just offshore from the point, the lighthouse was subjected to several more quakes including one in 1888 and another in 1898. Although the earthquake of 1906 is known mostly for the destruction it caused in San Francisco, the area north of the city also experienced significant damage. A keeper recorded the following account of the damage caused by the April 18, 1906 quake.
A heavy blow struck the tower from the south. The blow came quick and heavy, accompanied by a heavy report. The tower quivered for a few seconds, went far over to the north, came back, and then swung north again, repeating this several times. Immediately after came rapid and violent vibrations, rending the tower apart, the sections grinding and grating upon each other; while the lenses, reflectors, etc., in the lantern were shaken from their settings and fell in a shower upon the iron floor.
The earthquake also frightened a black bear, which ran into the station and had to be shot. Both the tower and the dwelling were damaged beyond repair and had to be razed. All the brick and other material that could not be used in reconstructing the light station were simply pushed over the cliff into the ocean.
After just a couple of months, temporary buildings had been constructed to house the keepers and the workforce during the reconstruction. A temporary short, wooden light tower was built first, and the lantern room from the original lighthouse was placed on top of it. Outfitted with a second-order lens, the tower began operation on January 5, 1907.
Now cognizant of the affect an earthquake could have on brick structures, the Lighthouse Service decided to use re-enforced concrete for the new tower. The Concrete Chimney Corporation of San Francisco, whose specialty, as implied by their name, was building industrial chimneys, was tapped to erect the tower.
The new tower was built on the site of the original tower. Iron bars were woven together, surrounded by wooden frames, and then covered by concrete to create the tower. As the tower grew, so did the wooden scaffolding encircling it. Contained in the scaffolding was a mule-powered elevator used to raise the numerous wheelbarrows of concrete to be poured into the forms. After the tower was completed, a doughnut-shaped buttress was built around the base of the tower to give it additional support and create a circular workroom. The staircase from the original tower was reassembled in the new tower.
The beams from a new first-order Fresnel lens, manufactured by Barbier, Benard & Turenne, were cast out to sea from the completed 115-foot tower on September 15, 1908 at 1800 hours. The new lens rotated in atop nearly three gallons of mercury to produce a unique pattern of a double flash every six seconds. A 160-pound weight suspended in the tower and attached to a clockwork mechanism caused the lens to revolve once every eighteen seconds.
After the tower was finished, work began on housing for the keepers. Rather than a single, subdivided dwelling, four separate bungalows for the keepers were built in a row south of the lighthouse. The keepers and their families must have enjoyed the privacy and extra space the new houses afforded.
Keeper Bill Owens served at Point Arena for fifteen years from 1937 to 1952, during which time control of lighthouses passed from the Lighthouse Board to the Coast Guard in 1939. The daymark of the tower was slightly changed as part of this transition. As can be seen in the historic black and white photograph on this page, the gallery around the lantern room was formerly painted black, but the Coast Guard decided to paint the entire cement portion of the tower white when they took control.
When World War II broke out, the keepers at Point Arena were required to report all sightings during their watch. During one of Owens' watches, he thought he saw a submarine off the point, but when reporting it was told that there were no enemy submarines in the area. Unfortunately, Owens' report proved accurate as the lumber schooner Ameilia was torpedoed just north of Fort Bragg shortly thereafter.
In 1960, the keepers' bungalows were razed and four modern, nondescript, ranch-style houses were built in their stead. The station was automated in 1977, when a rotating beacon was placed on the tower's balcony. Although not used, the Fresnel lens remained in the tower. A nonprofit group, the Point Arena Lighthouse Keepers, obtained a 25-year lease to the light station in 1984, and was awarded ownership in 2000. The four keepers dwellings can be rented for overnight stays. A good museum is housed in the fog signal building, which was built around 1900. Adjacent to the tower, is the lintel from the doorway of the original tower that was found in the surf by keeper Owens.
In 2008, renovations costing 1.6 million dollars were carried out on the public restrooms, fog signal building, and the tower, whose concrete had begun crumbling in recent years. As part of the work, a new copper roof was installed atop the lantern room, and the first-order Fresnel lens was relocated, along with its pedestal and drive mechanism, to the fog signal building. Fresnel lens expert Jim Woodward was brought in to oversee the dismantling, cleaning, and reassembling of the lens. The tower was reopened to visitors in February of 2009 but remains unpainted due to a lack of funds. A metal floor has been installed in the lantern room, and this large space, formerly filled by the Fresnel lens, makes for a great observation room.
Copyright © All Rights Reserved Images are the property of Prairie Fire Imaging and may not be reproduced without permission
Low Point, situated on the eastern side of the entrance to Syndey Harbour, is both low and flat, making a light there even more critical. Over the years, the point has been known as both Low Point and Flat Point. Government records referred to the point primarily as Low Point up until 1908, and then switched to Flat Point in 1909. In 1953, Low Point became the official name, and that is how it appears on the Canadian Coast Guard’s List of Lights today.
New Victoria, Nova Scotia.
Cape Point, Cape of Storms, Cape of Good Hope
Cape Point Lighthouse can be seen near the bottom of the cliffs
The day before this we had headed out toward Point Reyes, but there was a driving rain and a violent gale, which caused us to change our mind. Fortunately the next day was beautiful, and we managed to see deer, coyotes, elephant seals, countless raptors and other birds, a bobcat, a whale, and of course these elk. Tule Elk, Point Reyes National Seashore, California.
The bus ride from Shenzhen to Enping was long, like watching a freight train chug by, except it doesn't. We had to have been on that bus for seven hours, sometimes napping, and at times, staring out our windows, looking at a world standing still. Traffic was not only a nightmare, but also a mystery, for as many instances in which we could plainly see another egregiously bad vehicular accident, that which has become commonplace, ubiquitous in Chinese travel culture, there were other inexplicable stops in movement, when all of a sudden, as though finishing a swift countdown, our speed dropped so precipitously as to let out a collective lurch, if not in body, then definitely in mind. Calvin, thankfully, in his perspicacity, in his wide-angled, unique view of things, saw beyond the myriad vehicles which lay unmoving as if rocks on a dry riverbed; view the periphery, he bade us, and when we looked to the edges of the road, indeed we witnessed the most peculiar instigator of traffic congestion in the world - men en masse pissing on the side of the road! Men taking leaks creates a domino effect; that one sees another enjoying the relief of an unburdened, easy bladder, so seductive a yoke, that the only retort to the entreaty of this blissful state is to join in with abandon, and impunity. And so soon as the last few shakes are made, back into the cars do these men go, and a few hasty minutes later, traffic flows again!
Mike wanted to stop at a village, so we exchanged an increasingly crowded highway for a narrow, cement road, on which we ventured into the dense verdure. Having reached an impasse in the road soon thereafter, and not knowing how to advance further, to actually enter the village proper, we saw two lovely young ladies saddling a moped, motoring towards us. They then suddenly broke, and turned off our path and onto a dirt one which squeezed through two homes as though a mouse through its diminutive hole - that was our key. We greeted them as the girls turned their heads, offering us inquisitive, yet gentle looks. They would be our guides into town.
Blue showed me around her neighborhood. Together we walked along bumpy corridors and peered through open windows, beyond flitting cobwebs, to lay eyes on rooms where nowadays only impenetrable shadows repose. She and I examined the perfunctory red banners which framed each door in the village, and subsequently hit it off when I began inquiring into the nature of those two swarthy demons who hung menacingly before the closed doors, their gazes insidiously wild, drunk with rage, perhaps. Indeed later, in the quietude of a sunset raining down on us, while standing by ourselves in front of the village hall, I finally shared my faith with her, and in return she declared the lack of her own - her cousin and older sister, however, do know Jesus, she said, which verily warmed my heart, if not hers.
We left the village with much rapidity, but not before I blessed and encouraged Blue's cousin, in whose arms a smiling babe lay, and received joyfully a delectable departing gift: mysterious, "Blue Cookies" (the official Chinese name is 艾糍), whose mottled, homely complexion would disgust if not for the sweetness (an amalgam of sugar, peanuts and herbs) buried inside, a treasure which would be discovered again and again on our tour.
The food around Enping epitomizes, I believe, Guangdong cuisine: inexpensive and egregiously non-spicy. For what they lack in price and incendiary acidity, however, these dishes more than compensate with copious amounts of oil, salt and sugar, mixed together for a tantalizing effect on the taste buds. Our group was fortunate enough to have frequented several Guangdong-style dai pai dongs whose victuals both nourished our bodies and replenished our wallets - it's amazing to consider how $250RMB can feed 15 ravenous, cantankerous-when-hungry Christian bikers. In fact, the feasting grew exponentially more enjoyable as journey progressed, as our two primary orderers began to refine their culinary acuity, accurately predicting what would invigorate and excite our collective palate; it helped, too, that our utensils were pretty clean for Chinese standards!
Our first evening, we secured accommodations in a building that was not so much a hotel, or even a motel, as a grey, dry concrete edifice in which hardwood beds were arrayed neatly in each room; the spartan conditions dismayed some, including myself, at first. However, thankfulness trumped peevishness, and the realization that, in the middle of nowhere, we had mosquito nets to ward off the inexorable squad of mozzies, and one bathroom with boiling water for a very, very scalding shower was more than enough to placate everyone, especially after a hard day of riding. Besides, austerity succors the soul. We even managed to sleep pretty soundly without mattresses. In my somnolent state, I only remember shifting desperately maybe six, or seven times. It was a good night, and a bargain at only 15RMB per person!
On the second day our group dared to test itself on an unknown avenue. Consequently, we were spared the sonorous alarms of gigantic, indomitable trucks and instead subjected ourselves to the vicissitudes of off-road biking, whose soundtrack, undoubtedly for the day, was provided by an orchestra of buzzing cicadas, accompanied, at times, by the rumbling tympani of motorbikes. Oh, the countryside was lush, beautiful verdure all around - a feast for the romantic soul. Yet, for one of my companions, the environment was anything but endearing, for her adeptness at handling the desultory trail, she surely felt, was more chaotic than controlled. She persevered, nonetheless, pushing through her disconsolation to conquer the race marked out for her; such tenacity that only the Father could supply; and that left me thoroughly impressed.
At lunchtime, the evangelization effort began in earnest. It started innocently enough, as I asked a group of girls about the secondary school down the dusty road from our restaurant. Then, on cue, the Spirit, whose pacing can only be described as frenetic, whose rhythm is beyond my comprehension, overwhelmed and took over. Leanne and I brought those three girls to Christ; while Tim was assiduously preaching by our side to a band of boys who had gathered to look on; and behind us, ah Cheung had cajoled five boys to form a circle, hand in hand, for prayer. Many people came to know Jesus that hour. There was undoubtedly some serious fire falling down on us!
We made a pit stop at the Tam clan village. It was another bucolic community, replete with idling boys, young and old, and those two duplicitous demons standing watch from steady doors, which, it appeared, held together together the ramshackle walls beside them. An electricity meter evinced the reality of life in the village, of a living community that flows flittingly in and out of the houses as though cats leaping over canals; because I for one couldn't see how hundreds of people somehow resided inside those homes when I couldn't spot a single one during my brief tour of the grounds. In the open, by our bikes, there were conspicuous signs of life, however. I was standing in the sun, letting its warm rays melt on my skin, when a young man, not even twenty, approached and asked me about our intents and purposes on what was once such a dull afternoon. His curiosity got the better of me, and together we broached a conversation in faith. Simon joined us, and although he whom I named Henry, told us in his obstinacy that he depends on himself alone, I feel as though a small seed of faith was still planted within him. May it bloom at the appointed time when he most needs it.
At last, inside the unlit store where we shared our gleaming hopes and fantastic dreams, Simon and I noticed, to our surprise and delight, two blackboards on which the shopkeeper had written the alphabet, for English as well as for Putonghua (Pinyin). Besides the letters, numbers too had been painstakingly etched into the board, each meticulous stroke perfectly formed. So they ironically were learning that which continues to elude their more economically mobile brethren in Hong Kong, despite their most humble upbringing. I encouraged Henry to pursue this knowledge, since, as the cliche most rightly states, English - and Putonghua, these days - opens up a world of opportunity.
China, it seems to me, is one interminable housing start being carried on the shoulders of giants. Behemoths, really, an armada of green and blue dump trucks, on whose backs are the physical manifestation of the hopes and dreams of billions - timber; stone; and coal - were an inescapable part of our three-day trek. They blew passed us, literally, horns afire; and if you stared into the eyes of the drivers high above on those mechanized elephants, you would see the glee with which they pounded both the road and the eardrums of those unwitting peons foolish enough to be nearby. China - and China Mobile, whose stores we uncovered even in the most remote suburb, might I add! - still has much growth left, and the transportation and infrastructure industries, I'm sure, shall assiduously work to keep it that way. My recommendation: keep investing in China.
Visiting the hot springs had been on our agenda since the inception of the trip. We eventually had our chance the second evening, when we raced down a wending hill to our hotel - a real hotel. Our excitement reverberated in the air, crackling with laughter and shouting. Choosing to swim first and foremost, we left dinner to wait and hurried across the street. The resort was packed with other like-minded people, dressed in swimming costumes that should have left more to the imagination; the temperature of the pool water varied, from tepid in one enclosure to skin-searing in another; and for one marvelous hour, we swam and frolicked like little children again, delighting in some wet fun, a suitable reward for one more arduous day spent on the dusty, dry land.
We capped the end of a successful day with a bang. The girls, oddly enough, were furtive pyromaniacs in our midst, longing in secret to raid the fireworks shop at the base of the hotel. So after our meal, they raced into the cool evening air and we could only endeavor to follow them in their explosive folly. Inside the store, all sorts of bombastic devices were on display, from the unwieldy, block of (Chicago) bull to the sleek spears adorning the wall whose warheads, no doubt, could just so easily take out a few eyes as mercilessly rip the pitch black from the wall of night sky. The ladies suffered to leave no type of firework untouched by the flame, quickly purchasing an arsenal of rainbow-inducing rockets and slim sparklers to make any pyrotechnic maven proud. Outside we went. At length, the bombs burst in the air, and laughter abound so much as we watched the brilliance of Chinese engineering on display. With the girls' scintillating stock depleted, we finally collected ourselves, and headed upstairs for one more day of wonderment.
There was one last village to visit before we reached our final destination of Enping city. As we sped into the shanty community, we knew something was amiss because unlike our other entrances into villages, during which residents would emerge in droves to glimpse us, it seemed as though these villagers preferred the comfort of their own veiled homes to the company of a few, ebullient strangers. It was an ominous setting in which we found ourselves, one characterized by inhabitants rather mistrustful than gregarious, and affable. Nonetheless, we dispersed to share kindness and mercy. To that end, I approached a young lady, a mere 25-years old, who had her three-month old boy on her shoulder and her three-year old son - who was without pants, might I add, preferring to wave them in the air like a terrible towel - by her side. We spoke briefly about her hopes and dreams, which, she says, rest in the well-being of her sons; and then Leanne and I blessed her. That was the end of our village experience in China.
To be around people who sharpen you as iron sharpens iron, that verily is a joy. The villagers were simple, warm and welcoming; my teammates were jocular, presumptuous and faithful; and I, in the midst of this confluence, this mosaic of personalities, philosophies, hopes and dreams, could only seek to love, especially in one of my more pensive moments. The trip tested my patience and tolerance, my ability to accept others for who they are - each a flawed creature like myself. Ultimately, so much as we seek the men of peace everywhere we go, we individually must become men of peace too. A true disciple of Jesus runs that race, and appreciates His grace, which shall always be enough in this life.
A trip to Carmel, California meant a visit to Point Lobos, and an attempt at some Edward Weston-inspired photos of the famous state park.
Point and Shoot - Nikon P100
HDR Effex Pro
Topaz DeNoise
Silver Effex Pro
Was lucky enough to catch this on my beach walk during the winter months.
156475 forming 2C34, the 14:20 Carlisle to Barrow-in-Furness passes Redness point on its approach to Whitehaven on 26 September 2014.
Much has changed in the two decades that separate this and the previous pictures. At Lowca, the chimneys of Harrington No.10 are long gone and the inevitable wind turbines are springing up. The old iron industry remnants survive but the world war II searchlight emplacements that were above them are gone. A seriously strong fence to catch rockfall now stands there. On the seaward side, little trace of the slag "sculpture" remains and the structure built against the sea wall had also virtually disappeared. As for the old bridge piers, Network Rail identified them as a risk to the railway and they were demolished in 2017.