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South African 60's/70's Folk Singer; Des Lindberg's folk song: 'The Seagull's name was Nelson' :-)
1971
'The Seagull's Name Was Nelson' - Des and Dawn Lindberg (Peter E Bennett) [3.14]
Des Lindberg: vocals, guitar/ Dawn Lindberg (nee Silver): vocals, guitar
This anti-pollution protest song (and an oblique reference to Nelson Mandela, residing on Robben Island at the time) reached #4 on the Springbok charts in July 1971 and stayed 12 weeks in the Top Twenty. Des and Dawn won the SARIE award for Best Vocal Group in 1971 (and again in 1973).
Pure political folk. This song strikes me as nearly as powerful and timely a song as Bright Blue's 'Weeping'. When originally released, was anyone in doubt as to what it was about?
- Kurt Shoemaker, July 2000
Source: South Africa's Rock Lists
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"Monsanto” is a layered artwork that uses the fragility of paper to represent the vulnerability of human health against powerful chemical agents. As someone from St. Louis, the former home of the powerful agricultural and chemical corporation, the name 'Monsanto' resonates with a complex history of innovation and controversy - a local titan whose influence stretched globally.
The work critiques the pursuit of profit at the expense of public health and environmental integrity, serving as a stark reminder that the advancements designed to 'feed the world' can carry an untold cost. Monsanto is a lament for the unseen, a call to awareness about the chemical landscape we all navigate, whether we realize it or not."
Very easy to overlook this little blue flower, but in the right surroundings, it blossoms and shines.
Daisies, family Asteraceae, often have fluorescent pollen. Sunflowers are a part of that family and are no exception. Glowing yellow under an ultraviolet light, the pollen coats the flower petals with illuminated points of light like a field of stars. UV fluorescence photography is really easy to explore, you only need darkness and a UV flashlight!
UVIVF. Let’s break that down: Ultraviolet-induced visible fluorescence. This happens when UV light strikes a subject and is able to excite the electrons in certain atoms. Those electrons rise to a higher orbit, but instantaneously decay back to their original location. This spends a small amount of energy, so the light that is re-emitted from the subject now has less energy. UV light then transforms into visible light, and you can use your ordinary camera and lenses, so special equipment or filters required. The UV flashlight / torch I most commonly recommend is the Convoy S2. It’s all you need to start exploring this wonderful unseen world.
Sunflowers hold a special place in my heart because they tend to fluoresce blue and yellow, while simultaneously being the national flower of Ukraine. Today marks 150 days since the Russian Federation decided to destroy the sovereignty of the largest nation in Europe. They have not succeeded. I am continuously amazed at the resolve of the Ukrainian people, and I am thrilled to continue to support them in any way we can. Most recently we have contributed funds to purchase a surveillance drone for citizen soldiers, and we have two solar generators on order for use near the front lines. The people of Ukraine are the strongest that I have ever seen in my lifetime, and I’m glad that the world is coming to their aid.
It's also a great example of leadership, good and bad. Corruption runs deep in many Eastern European countries (probably all countries?) and this war has allowed for the discovery and dismantling of significant Russian influence. While Russia regroups for their next move, Ukraine uses the most precise and damaging weapons to erase countless enemy ammunition depots. The war is in one of the most peaceful moments, where weapons of intense destructive and terrorizing force are being systemically ruined.
Putin’s methodology for forward progress is sinister. He is forcibly conscripting Ukrainian men in occupied regions to fight for Russia – holding their families for ransom in the process. “Referendums” loom in various regions where the population will vote to be annexed by Russia. The Russian forces interview the population and if you say you’d vote for Ukraine, you are deported by force. This isn’t just a fight for some big country in Eastern Europe you’ve never visited, it’s a fight against the tyrannical actions of one of the most powerful countries on the planet. Putin’s Kleptocracy allows for these deceitful strategies, but it is also what has left his military weak and untrained.
Through this series of images supporting Ukraine, I have encouraged many ways to help. We heard of a Ukrainian restaurant that just opened up here in Varna earlier this month, Stefania: www.facebook.com/stefania.rest/ - the food was marvelous and it’s staffed by Ukrainians. It reminded me of the food being served today at my own Ukrainian family reunion taking place in Canada this very day. It’s important to support those around you affected by this conflict.
It also reminds me of the simple act of being kind to strangers. Around me, there are many people who have seen the terrors of this war. You never know what story someone is simply not telling you. As with all images in this series, I deliberately place “Starfield” into the Public Domain. More to come. Sorry for my absence in posting, life can get busy. I’ve used the proceeds from some of my own professional activities recently to further support Ukraine, and I would hope that world does not turn away from this continuing tragedy. There’s always more we can do.
Looking south across massive lava flows towards the forested and glaciated slopes of North and Middle Sister, near McKenzie Pass in the Cascade Range of central Oregon.
Thank you very much for stopping by. If you would like to see more, or if you are interested in buying fine art prints or wall art or licensing any of my work, please visit: www.RobertCrossPhotography.com
Here's a bit from Dan Fogelberg's song The Power Of Gold.
"The story is told of
the power of gold and
its lure on the unsuspecting.
It glitters and shines
It badgers and blinds
And constantly needs protecting.
Balance the cost of
the soul you lost with
the dreams you lightly sold
Are you under
The power of gold?"
I was able to see the beautiful waterfall rainbow. The waterfalls of Norikura Kogen are wonderful and powerful.
The distinctive Crested Caracara “combines the raptorial instincts of the eagle with the base carrion-feeding habits of the vulture” Called ignoble, miserable, and aggressive, yet also dashing, stately, and noble, this medium-sized raptor, with its bold black-and-white plumage and bright yellow-orange face and legs, is easily recognizable as it perches conspicuously on a high point in the landscape. In flight it can be distinguished by its regular, powerful wing-beats as it cruises low across the ground or just above the treetops. Known locally in some areas as the “Mexican buzzard”, the Crested Caracara is an opportunist and is commonly seen walking about open fields, pastures, and road edges, feeding on a variety of invertebrate and vertebrate prey, as well as on carrion, often in the company of other avian scavengers. The name “caracara” is said to be of Guarani Indian origin, traro-traro, derived from the unusual rattling vocalization that the bird utters when agitated. A common subject of folklore and legends throughout Central and South America, the Crested Caracara is sometimes referred to as the "Mexican eagle."
I found this one along Canoe Creek Road finishing off some "Road Kill", in Osceola County, Florida.
On a windy night, my determination and persistence to capture the unique moment of the moon meeting Bass Rock paid off. Battling the strong gusts, I was able to witness and photograph the serene beauty of the moon illuminating the majestic rock amidst the restless waves. The scene was truly breathtaking, a testament to nature’s quiet yet powerful splendor. Returning home with this series of shots, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction and excitement to share them with you. I hope this image brings you as much joy and wonder as it brought me.
Tags: #BassRock #MoonlitNight #Seascape #NaturePhotography #LandscapeLovers #MoonGazing #PhotographyAdventure #OceanWaves #NatureScenes #WindyNight
Canon EOS 5D Mark IV © 2019 Klaus Ficker. Photos are copyrighted. All rights reserved. Pictures can not be used without explicit permission by the creator.
in a small bar in palma, the kind where the coffee is strong and the light falls softly, i saw gio. he was at a small table, hands folded, his face half-hidden in shadows. the kind of face that holds stories — of fights won and lost, of nights long past. he sat still, quiet, but the light found him. i asked to take his portrait. he nodded once. the shutter clicked, and for a moment, the room was silent. in the stillness, his gaze stayed sharp, his hands steady.
For my friend NatuurfotoRien/Rien in Holland, who loves corvids.
I had this odd notion that when I retire I would carve a totem pole, and so over the years, I learned more and more about northwest coast art, culture, and carving. One of the pieces I studied was this - a huge cedar sculpture carved by the great sculptor, Bill Reid, to whom the telling of this ancient story is credited.
Bill Reid was a Haida indian (Haida is their word for “human”). The Haida tribe lives in the Queen Charlotte Islands off the coast of northern Canada (below Alaska), in a special place they call Haida Gwaii. Bill is widely credited for reviving the arts of the northwest coast - he was an amazing sculptor. I am disappointed I will never meet him.
The northwest coast tribes have many gods - all animals. Raven is the Haida equivalent of “fox”. Tricky, playful, smart, inquisitive - these are all qualities of Raven, whose play and trickery created the stars in the sky, the sun, the ocean and man.
The man-size (literally) sculpture is inside the University of British Columbia museum in Vancouver, Canada. When it was installed, Bill had the children of Haida Gwaii come to the installation - each with bottles of sand from the beach at Haida Gwaii, so Raven, could be installed in his native soil.
Here is his telling of their genesis myth - one of the most sacred stories in Haida culture:
The Story of the Raven Creating Man by Bill Reid
The great flood which had covered the earth for so long had receded, and even the thin strip of sand now called Rose Spit, stretching north from Naikun village lay dry. The Raven had flown there to gorge himself on the delicacies left by the receding water, so for once he wasn't hungry. But his other appetites - lust, curiosity and the unquenchable itch to meddle and provoke things, to play tricks on the world and its creatures - these remained unsatisfied.
He had recently stolen the light from the old man who kept it hidden in a box in his house in the middle of the darkness, and had scattered it throughout the sky. The new light spattered the night with stars and waxed and wane in the shape of the moon. And it dazzled the day with a single bright shining which lit up the long beach that curved from the spit beneath Raven's feet westward as far as Tao Hill. Pretty as it was, it looked lifeless and so to the Raven quite boring. He gave a great sigh, crossed his wings behind his back and walked along the sand, his shiny head cocked, his sharp eyes and ears alert for any unusual sight or sound. Then taking to the air, he called petulantly out to the empty sky. To his delight, he heard an answering cry - or to describe it more closely, a muffled squeak.
At first he saw nothing, but as he scanned the beach again, a white flash caught his eye, and when he landed he found at his feet, buried in the sand, a gigantic clamshell. When he looked more closely still, he saw that the shell was full of little creatures cowering in terror of his enormous shadow.
Well, here was something to break the monotony of his day. But nothing was going to happen as long as the tiny things stayed in the shell, and they certainly weren't coming out in their present terrified state. So the Raven leaned his great head close to the shell, and with the smooth trickster's tongue that had got him into and out of so many misadventures during his troubled and troublesome existence, he coaxed and cajoled and coerced the little creatures to come out and play in his wonderful, shiny new world. As you know the Raven speaks in two voices, one harsh and strident, and the other, which he used now, a seductive bell-like croon which seems to come from the depths of the sea, or out of the cave where the winds are born. It is an irresistible sound, one of the loveliest sounds in the world. So it wasn't long before one and then another of the little shell-dwellers timidly emerged. Some of them immediately scurried back when they saw the immensity of the sea and the sky, and the overwhelming blackness of the Raven. But eventually curiosity overcame caution and all of them had crept or scrambled out. Very strange creatures they were: two-legged like the Raven, but there the resemblance ended. They had no glossy feathers, no thrusting beak. Their skin was pale, and they were naked except for the long black hair on their round, flat-featured heads. Instead of strong wings, they had thin stick-like appendages that waved, and fluttered constantly. They were the original Haidas, the first humans.
For a long time the Raven amused himself with his new playthings, watching them as they explored their much expanded-world. Sometimes they helped one another in their new discoveries. Just as often, they squabbled over some novelty they found on the beach. And the Raven taught them some clever tricks, at which they proved remarkably adept. But the Raven's attention span was brief, and he grew tired of his small companions. For one thing, they were all males. He had looked up and down the beach for female creatures, hoping to make the game more interesting, but females were nowhere to be found. He was about to shove the now tired, demanding and quite annoying little creatures back into their shell and forget about them when suddenly - as happens so often with the Raven - he had an idea.
He picked up the men, and in spite of their struggles and cries of fright he put them on his broad back, where they hid themselves among his feathers. Then the Raven spread his wings and flew to North Island. the tide was low, and the rocks, as he had expected, were covered with those large but soft-lipped molluscs known as red chitons. The Raven shook himself gently, and the men slid down his back to the sand. The he flew to the rock and with his strong beak pried a chiton from its surface.
Now, if any of you have ever examined the underside of a chiton, you may begin to understand what the Raven had in his libidinous, devious mind. He threw back his head and flung the chiton at the nearest of the men. His aim was as unerring as only a great magician's can be, and the chiton found its mark in the delicate groin of the startled, shell-born creature. There the chiton attached itself firmly. Then as sudden as spray hitting the rocks from a breaking wave, a shower of chitons broke over the wide-eyed humans, as each of the open-mouthed shellfish flew inexorably to its target.
Nothing quite like this had ever happened to the men. They had never dreamed of such a thing during their long stay in the clamshell. They were astounded, embarrassed, confused by a rush of new emotions and sensations. They shuffled and squirmed, uncertain whether it was pleasure or pain they were experiencing. They threw themselves down on the beach, where a great storm seemed to break over them, followed just as suddenly by a profound calm. One by one the chitons dropped off. The men staggered to their feet and headed slowly down the beach, followed by the raucous laughter of the Raven, echoing all the way to the great island to the north which we now call Prince of Wales.
That first troop of male humans soon disappeared behind the nearest headland, passing out of the games of the Raven and the story of humankind. Whether they found their way back to the shell, or lived out their lives elsewhere, or perished in the strange environment in which they found themselves, nobody remembers, and perhaps nobody cares. They had played their roles and gone their way.
Meanwhile the chitons had made their way back to the rock, where they attached themselves as before. But they too had been changed. As high tide followed low and the great storms of winter gave way to the softer rains and warm sun of spring, the chitons grew and grew, many times larger than their kind had ever been before. Their jointed shells seemed about to fly apart from the enormous pressure within them. And one day a huge wave swept over the rock, tore them from their footholds and carried them back to the beach. As the water receded and the warm sun dried the sand, a great stirring began among the chitons. From each emerged a brown skinned, black-haired human. This time there were both males and females among them, and the Raven could begin his greatest game: the one that still goes on.
They were no timid shell-dwellers these, but children of the wild coast, born between the sea and land, challenging the strength of the stormy North Pacific and wresting from it rich livelihood. Their descendants built on its beaches the strong, beautiful homes of the Haidas and embellished them with the powerful heraldic carvings that told of the legendary beginnings of great families, all the heros and heroines and the gallant beasts and monsters who shaped their world and their destinies. For many generations they grew and flourished, built and created, fought and destroyed, living according to the changing seasons and the unchanging rituals of their rich and complex lives.
It's nearly over now. Most of the villages are abandoned, and those which have not entirely vanished lie in ruins. The people who remain are changed. The sea has lost much of its richness, and great areas of land itself lie in waste. Perhaps it's time the Raven started looking for another clamshell.
Capturing portraits with friends is a great fun, and it opens the gates of the world of photography for them. Here, we discussed a session with a great friend to take some new photos about both of us. I chose a park nearby in the city which gave a calm but stylish background topic for the pictures. From now I plan to release more portraits in the future.
Nikon D5300 + Tamron SP 70-300mm Di VC USD
ISO-320; 1/800sec; F-stop f/6.3; EV:+0.3; 105mm (70mm)
The Cone Nebula, or NGC 2264, is a dark nebula located 2,500 lightyears away in the Monoceros constellation. The nebula is 7 lightyears long and is packed full of dense gas and dust - the ingredients necessary for star formation - making it a perfect stellar factory. This tempestuous deep-sky region contains scorching hot young stars that are eroding and carving out the dark nebula, also emitting blasts of powerful ultraviolet light that can be seen illuminating the edges of the dense cosmic cloud. The NGC 2264 region also contains an open star cluster known as the Christmas Tree Cluster, as it forms a sparkling triangular shape that makes it look rather like a festive fir.
Powerful Owl (immature)
Ninox strenua
Vulnerable in Victoria
November 1st, 2017
Wantirna South, Victoria, Australia
Canon EOS 1D X
Canon EF 100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM lens
Canon 600EX II-RT flash
One from a couple of years ago when a young Powerful Owl was exploring the surrounds of its home & landed on a stump at eye level.
i was walking back from dinner. not far from plaça catalunya. he stood in the middle of the crowd. motionless. behind the mask, no expression. on his laptop, two pigs in a metal cage. nothing moved, except the traffic. i stayed.
-(no photoshop-no edition)
-
play .Radiohead --- last flowers ♫
Appliances have gone berserk
I cannot keep up
treading on people's toes
snot-nosed little punk
And I can't face the evening straight
you can't offer me escape
Houses move and houses speak
If you take me then you'll get relief
Believe, believe, believe...
And if I'm gonna talk
I just wanna talk
Please don't interrupt
Just sit back and listen
'Cause I can't face the evening straight
you can't offer me escape
Houses move and houses speak
If you take me then you'll get relief
Believe, believe, believe...
It's too much
Too bright
Too powerful
------------------------------
Los electrodomesticos han enloquecido
No puedo seguir ofendiendolos
/Pequeño punk mocoso
Y no puedo enfrentarme al anochecer
Puedes ofrecerme escapar
Las casas se mueven, hablan
Si me llevas obtendras alivio
Alivio...
Y si voy a hablar
Solo quiero hablar
Por favor no interrumpas
Solo sientate y escucha
Porque no puedo enfrentar al anochecer
Puedes ofrecerme escapar
Las casas se mueven, hablan
Si me llevas obtendras alivio
Alivio....
Es demasiado, muy brillante, muy poderoso
The Aurora gets cooking, seriously, on the morning of March 1, in northern Yukon skies. This was by far the most intense Aurora I've seen in years ... the deep red of the upper curtain just blew me away! The upper red light is generated when highly charged electrons in the solar wind interact with an isotope of oxygen which is found only hundreds of kilometers up in our planet's very tenuous outer layer of atmosphere.
And, this was an unusual and high Aurora to be sure, as throughout the hours we were absolutely transfixed by this astonishing demonstration of nature's power, there was not even a hint of the pink nitrogen line which is normally seen at the very bottom of intensely active Auroral curtains.
In my experience, the deep scarlet of Auroras such as this is usually not particularly obvious to the naked eye, though this varies with different observers. Allowing your eyes to become well dark adapted makes a big difference ... This is easily experienced, since even a very brief exposure to a flashlight beam or a set of vehicle headlights will make it suddenly much harder to visually perceive the deep red. The human eye, in general, is less sensitive to red light than any other wavelength in the spectrum. We have only the tiny microsecond which it takes for a ray of light to travel from the surface of our cornea to our brain's visual cortex, whereas a camera can, of course, accumulate light, as in this 10 second exposure.
Back in the days of film photography, (where I still am, part of the time) photographers sought out film emulsions which were especially red sensitive in order to capture this (Konica films were really good for that).
In this digital age, many beginning Aurora paparazzi make the mistake of adjusting their cameras to a night mode of shooting, lowering the red sensitivity of the camera's sensor.
It turns out that the colors of an active Aurora are more closely akin to what you see in the daytime .... Therefore, the most natural results are achieved by leaving the camera's color temperature at a daytime setting, around 5500K.
(taken using my trusty old Zenitar 16mm f2.8 lens) ..... Much more to come ... Right now I have to go out and watch the sky ........
along the power grid...
on a hot, hazy and humid day in summer...
on this day the temp reached about 31C and felt 40C+ with the humidex factored in...
the air conditioners are working overtime...
A powerful juxtaposition, I thought, in Belfast city centre.
I see this man often, always alone, head always bowed. I think he's probably homeless.
The Powerful Owl is the largest owl in Australia. They have large yellow eyes and no facial-disc with adults reaching 60 cm in length. These owls are in Centennial Park Sydney. With two adults and two owlets, the owlets are the lighter fluffy ones.