View allAll Photos Tagged Prominent
Name is still in use todey, but this lens had a short run on Voigtländer Prominent cameras. It is one if tthe finest fast fifties I know of.
Zion National Park is an American national park located in southwestern Utah near the city of Springdale. A prominent feature of the 229-square-mile (590 km2) park is Zion Canyon, which is 15 miles (24 km) long and up to 2,640 ft (800 m) deep. The canyon walls are reddish and tan-colored Navajo Sandstone eroded by the North Fork of the Virgin River. The lowest point in the park is 3,666 ft (1,117 m) at Coalpits Wash and the highest peak is 8,726 ft (2,660 m) at Horse Ranch Mountain. Located at the junction of the Colorado Plateau, Great Basin, and Mojave Desert regions, the park has a unique geography and a variety of life zones that allow for unusual plant and animal diversity. Numerous plant species as well as 289 species of birds, 75 mammals (including 19 species of bat), and 32 reptiles inhabit the park's four life zones: desert, riparian, woodland, and coniferous forest. Zion National Park includes mountains, canyons, buttes, mesas, monoliths, rivers, slot canyons, and natural arches. Human habitation of the area started about 8,000 years ago with small family groups of Native Americans, one of which was the semi-nomadic Basketmaker Anasazi (c. 300). Subsequently, the Virgin Anasazi culture (c. 500) and the Parowan Fremont group developed as the Basketmakers settled in permanent communities. Both groups moved away by 1300 and were replaced by the Parrusits and several other Southern Paiute subtribes. Mormons came into the area in 1858 and settled there in the early 1860s. In 1909, President William Howard Taft named the area Mukuntuweap National Monument in order to protect the canyon. In 1918, the acting director of the newly created National Park Service, Horace Albright, drafted a proposal to enlarge the existing monument and change the park's name to Zion National Monument, Zion being a term used by the Mormons. According to historian Hal Rothman: "The name change played to a prevalent bias of the time. Many believed that Spanish and Indian names would deter visitors who, if they could not pronounce the name of a place, might not bother to visit it. The new name, Zion, had greater appeal to an ethnocentric audience." On November 20, 1919, Congress redesignated the monument as Zion National Park, and the act was signed by President Woodrow Wilson. The Kolob section was proclaimed a separate Zion National Monument in 1937, but was incorporated into the national park in 1956. The geology of the Zion and Kolob canyons area includes nine formations that together represent 150 million years of mostly Mesozoic-aged sedimentation. At various periods in that time warm, shallow seas, streams, ponds and lakes, vast deserts, and dry near-shore environments covered the area. Uplift associated with the creation of the Colorado Plateau lifted the region 10,000 feet (3,000 m) starting 13 million years ago. The park is located in southwestern Utah in Washington, Iron and Kane counties. Geomorphically, it is located on the Markagunt and Kolob plateaus, at the intersection of three North American geographic provinces: the Colorado Plateau, the Great Basin, and the Mojave Desert. The northern part of the park is known as the Kolob Canyons section and is accessible from Interstate 15, exit 40. The 8,726-foot (2,660 m) summit of Horse Ranch Mountain is the highest point in the park; the lowest point is the 3,666-foot (1,117 m) elevation of Coal Pits Wash, creating a relief of about 5,100 feet (1,600 m). Streams in the area take rectangular paths because they follow jointing planes in the rocks. The stream gradient of the Virgin River, whose North Fork flows through Zion Canyon in the park, ranges from 50 to 80 feet per mile (9.5 to 15.2 m/km) (0.9–1.5%)—one of the steepest stream gradients in North America. The road into Zion Canyon is 6 miles (9.7 km) long, ending at the Temple of Sinawava, which is named for the coyote god of the Paiute Indians. The canyon becomes more narrow near the Temple and a hiking trail continues to the mouth of The Narrows, a gorge only 20 feet (6 m) wide and up to 2,000 feet (610 m) tall. The Zion Canyon road is served by a free shuttle bus from early April to late October and by private vehicles the other months of the year. Other roads in Zion are open to private vehicles year-round. The east side of the park is served by Zion-Mount Carmel Highway (SR-9), which passes through the Zion–Mount Carmel Tunnel and ends at Mount Carmel. On the east side of the park, notable park features include Checkerboard Mesa and the East Temple. The Kolob Terrace area, northwest of Zion Canyon, features a slot canyon called The Subway, and a panoramic view of the entire area from Lava Point. The Kolob Canyons section, further to the northwest near Cedar City, features one of the world's longest natural arches, Kolob Arch. Other notable geographic features of the park include the Virgin River Narrows, Emerald Pools, Angels Landing, The Great White Throne, and Court of the Patriarchs. Spring weather is unpredictable, with stormy, wet days being common, mixed with occasional warm, sunny weather. Precipitation is normally heaviest in March. Spring wildflowers bloom from April through June, peaking in May. Fall days are usually clear and mild; nights are often cool. Summer days are hot (95 to 110 °F; 35 to 43 °C), but overnight lows are usually comfortable (65 to 70 °F; 18 to 21 °C). Afternoon thunderstorms are common from mid-July through mid-September. Storms may produce waterfalls as well as flash floods. Autumn tree-color displays begin in September in the high country; in Zion Canyon, autumn colors usually peak in late October. Winter in Zion Canyon is fairly mild. Winter storms bring rain or light snow to Zion Canyon and heavier snow to the higher elevations. Clear days may become quite warm, reaching 60 °F (16 °C); nights are often 20 to 40 °F (−7 to 4 °C). Winter storms can last several days and make roads icy. Zion roads are plowed, except the Kolob Terrace Road which is closed when covered with snow. Winter driving conditions last from November through March. Source: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zion_National_Park
A Pebble Prominent Moth, so named because it has a pebble-like blotch on it's forewing.
Many thanks to all who take the time to view, comment or fav my images.
In my neck of the woods, Hyparpax aurora, A.K.A. Pink Prominent, ranks highly among the seldom seen class.
I spotted my first one 6 years ago and have returned to the same area every summer since then to try to find another one.
Finally, my persistence paid off.
On Scrub Oak
Severn Run NEA
Anne Arundel County, Maryland
August 5, 2022
1006
Fly Me To The Moon - Frank Sinatra
Fly me to the moon
Let me play among the stars
Let me see what spring is like
On a-Jupiter and Mars
In other words, hold my hand
In other words, baby, kiss me
Fill my heart with song
And let me sing for ever more
You are all I long for
All I worship and adore
In other words, please be true
In other words, I love you
Fill my heart with song
Let me sing for ever more
You are all I long for
All I worship and adore
In other words, please be true
In other words, in other words
I love ... you
The conditions weren't really good enough but this prom tempted me.
Lunt LS80Tha/B18/DSII and Grasshopper 3 camera with 2.5x powermate
9.4.09
The flight arrived on time; and the twelve hours while on board passed quickly and without incident. To be sure, the quality of the Cathay Pacific service was exemplary once again.
Heathrow reminds me of Newark International. The décor comes straight out of the sterile 80's and is less an eyesore than an insipid background to the rhythm of human activity, such hustle and bustle, at the fore. There certainly are faces from all races present, creating a rich mosaic of humanity which is refreshing if not completely revitalizing after swimming for so long in a sea of Chinese faces in Hong Kong.
Internet access is sealed in England, it seems. Nothing is free; everything is egregiously monetized from the wireless hotspots down to the desktop terminals. I guess Hong Kong has spoiled me with its abundant, free access to the information superhighway.
11.4.09
Despite staying in a room with five other backpackers, I have been sleeping well. The mattress and pillow are firm; my earplugs keep the noise out; and the sleeping quarters are as dark as a cave when the lights are out, and only as bright as, perhaps, a dreary rainy day when on. All in all, St. Paul's is a excellent place to stay for the gregarious, adventurous, and penurious city explorer - couchsurfing may be a tenable alternative; I'll test for next time.
Yesterday Connie and I gorged ourselves at the borough market where there were all sorts of delectable, savory victuals. There was definitely a European flavor to the food fair: simmering sausages were to be found everywhere; and much as the meat was plentiful, and genuine, so were the dairy delicacies, in the form of myriad rounds of cheese, stacked high behind checkered tabletops. Of course, we washed these tasty morsels down with copious amounts of alcohol that flowed from cups as though amber waterfalls. For the first time I tried mulled wine, which tasted like warm, rancid fruit punch - the ideal tonic for a drizzling London day, I suppose. We later killed the afternoon at the pub, shooting the breeze while imbibing several diminutive half-pints in the process. Getting smashed at four in the afternoon doesn't seem like such a bad thing anymore, especially when you are having fun in the company of friends; I can more appreciate why the English do it so much!
Earlier in the day, we visited the Tate Modern. Its turbine room lived up to its prominent billing what with a giant spider, complete with bulbous egg sac, anchoring the retrospective exhibit. The permanent galleries, too, were a delight upon which to feast one's eyes. Picasso, Warhol and Pollock ruled the chambers of the upper floors with the products of their lithe wrists; and I ended up becoming a huge fan of cubism, while developing a disdain for abstract art and its vacuous images, which, I feel, are devoid of both motivation and emotion.
My first trip yesterday morning was to Emirates Stadium, home of the Arsenal Gunners. It towers imperiously over the surrounding neighborhood; yet for all its majesty, the place sure was quiet! Business did pick up later, however, once the armory shop opened, and dozens of fans descended on it like bees to a hive. I, too, swooped in on a gift-buying mission, and wound up purchasing a book for Godfrey, a scarf for a student, and a jersey - on sale, of course - for good measure.
I'm sitting in the Westminster Abbey Museum now, resting my weary legs and burdened back. So far, I've been verily impressed with what I've seen, such a confluence of splendor and history before me that it would require days to absorb it all, when regretfully I can spare only a few hours. My favorite part of the abbey is the poets corner where no less a literary luminary than Samuel Johnson rests in peace - his bust confirms his homely presence, which was so vividly captured in his biography.
For lunch I had a steak and ale pie, served with mash, taken alongside a Guinness, extra cold - 2 degrees centigrade colder, the bartender explained. It went down well, like all the other delicious meals I've had in England; and no doubt by now I have grown accustomed to inebriation at half past two. Besides, Liverpool were playing inspired football against Blackburn; and my lunch was complete.
Having had my fill of football, I decided to skip my ticket scalping endeavor at Stamford Bridge and instead wandered over to the British Museum to inspect their extensive collections. Along the way, my eye caught a theater, its doors wide open and admitting customers. With much rapidity, I subsequently checked the show times, saw that a performance was set to begin, and at last rushed to the box office to purchase a discounted ticket - if you call a 40 pound ticket a deal, that is. That's how I grabbed a seat to watch Hairspray in the West End.
The show was worth forty pounds. The music was addictive; and the stage design and effects were not so much kitschy as delightfully stimulating - the pulsating background lights were at once scintillating and penetrating. The actors as well were vivacious, oozing charisma while they danced and delivered lines dripping in humor. Hairspray is a quality production and most definitely recommended.
12.4.09
At breakfast I sat across from a man who asked me to which country Hong Kong had been returned - China or Japan. That was pretty funny. Then he started spitting on my food as he spoke, completely oblivious to my breakfast becoming the receptacle in which the fruit of his inner churl was being placed. I guess I understand the convention nowadays of covering one's mouth whilst speaking and masticating at the same time!
We actually conversed on London life in general, and I praised London for its racial integration, the act of which is a prodigious leap of faith for any society, trying to be inclusive, accepting all sorts of people. It wasn't as though the Brits were trying in vain to be all things to all men, using Spanish with the visitors from Spain, German with the Germans and, even, Hindi with the Indians, regardless of whether or not Hindi was their native language; not even considering the absurd idea of encouraging the international adoption of their language; thereby completely keeping English in English hands and allowing its proud polyglots to "practice" their languages. Indeed, the attempt of the Londoners to avail themselves of the rich mosaic of ethnic knowledge, and to seek a common understanding with a ubiquitous English accent is an exemplar, and the bedrock for any world city.
I celebrated Jesus' resurrection at the St. Andrew's Street Church in Cambridge. The parishioners of this Baptist church were warm and affable, and I met several of them, including one visiting (Halliday) linguistics scholar from Zhongshan university in Guangzhou, who in fact had visited my tiny City University of Hong Kong in 2003. The service itself was more traditional and the believers fewer in number than the "progressive" services at any of the charismatic, evangelical churches in HK; yet that's what makes this part of the body of Christ unique; besides, the message was as brief as a powerpoint slide, and informative no less; the power word which spoke into my life being a question from John 21:22 - what is that to you?
Big trees; exquisite lawns; and old, pointy colleges; that's Cambridge in a nutshell. Sitting here, sipping on a half-pint of Woodforde's Wherry, I've had a leisurely, if not languorous, day so far; my sole duty consisting of walking around while absorbing the verdant environment as though a sponge, camera in tow.
I am back at the sublime beer, savoring a pint of Sharp's DoomBar before my fish and chips arrive; the drinking age is 18, but anyone whose visage even hints of youthful brilliance is likely to get carded these days, the bartender told me. The youth drinking culture here is almost as twisted as the university drinking culture in America.
My stay in Cambridge, relaxing and desultory as it may be, is about to end after this late lunch. I an not sure if there is anything left to see, save for the American graveyard which rests an impossible two miles away. I have had a wonderful time in this town; and am thankful for the access into its living history - the residents here must demonstrate remarkable patience and tolerance what with so many tourists ambling on the streets, peering - and photographing - into every nook and cranny.
13.4.09
There are no rubbish bins, yet I've seen on the streets many mixed race couples in which the men tend to be white - the women also belonging to a light colored ethnicity, usually some sort of Asian; as well saw some black dudes and Indian dudes with white chicks.
People here hold doors, even at the entrance to the toilet. Sometimes it appears as though they are going out on a limb, just waiting for the one who will take the responsibility for the door from them, at which point I rush out to relieve them of such a fortuitous burden.
I visited the British Museum this morning. The two hours I spent there did neither myself nor the exhibits any justice because there really is too much to survey, enough captivating stuff to last an entire day, I think. The bottomless well of artifacts from antiquity, drawing from sources as diverse as Korea, and Mesopotamia, is a credit to the British empire, without whose looting most of this amazing booty would be unavailable for our purview; better, I think, for these priceless treasures to be open to all in the grandest supermarket of history than away from human eyes, and worst yet, in the hands of unscrupulous collectors or in the rubbish bin, possibly.
Irene and I took in the ballet Giselle at The Royal Opera House in the afternoon. The building is a plush marvel, and a testament to this city's love for the arts. The ballet itself was satisfying, the first half being superior to the second, in which the nimble dancers demonstrated their phenomenal dexterity in, of all places, a graveyard covered in a cloak of smoke and darkness. I admit, their dance of the dead, in such a gloomy necropolis, did strike me as, strange.
Two amicable ladies from Kent convinced me to visit their hometown tomorrow, where, they told me, the authentic, "working" Leeds Castle and the mighty interesting home of Charles Darwin await.
I'm nursing a pint of Green King Ruddles and wondering about the profusion of British ales and lagers; the British have done a great deed for the world by creating an interminable line of low-alcohol session beers that can be enjoyed at breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner; and their disservice is this: besides this inexhaustible supply of cheap beer ensnaring my inner alcoholic, I feel myself putting on my freshman fifteen, almost ten years after the fact; I am going to have to run a bit harder back in Hong Kong if I want to burn all this malty fuel off.
Irene suggested I stop by the National Art Gallery since we were in the area; and it was an hour well spent. The gallery currently presents a special exhibit on Picasso, the non-ticketed section of which features several seductive renderings, including David spying on Bathsheba - repeated in clever variants - and parodies of other masters' works. Furthermore, the main gallery houses two fabulous portraits by Joshua Reynolds, who happens to be favorite of mine, he in life being a close friend of Samuel Johnson - I passed by Boswells, where its namesake first met Johnson, on my way to the opera house.
14.4.09
I prayed last night, and went through my list, lifting everyone on it up to the Lord. That felt good; that God is alive now, and ever present in my life and in the lives of my brothers and sisters.
Doubtless, then, I have felt quite wistful, as though a specter in the land of the living, being in a place where religious fervor, it seems, is a thing of the past, a trifling for many, to be hidden away in the opaque corners of centuries-old cathedrals that are more expensive tourist destinations than liberating homes of worship these days. Indeed, I have yet to see anyone pray, outside of the Easter service which I attended in Cambridge - for such an ecstatic moment in verily a grand church, would you believe that it was only attended by at most three dozen spirited ones. The people of England, and Europe in general, have, it is my hope, only locked away the Word, relegating it to the quiet vault of their hearts. May it be taken out in the sudden pause before mealtimes and in the still crisp mornings and cool, silent nights. There is still hope for a revival in this place, for faith to rise like that splendid sun every morning. God would love to rescue them, to deliver them in this day, it is certain.
I wonder what Londoners think, if anything at all, about their police state which, like a vine in the shadows, has taken root in all corners of daily life, from the terrorist notifications in the underground, which implore Londoners to report all things suspicious, to the pair of dogs which eagerly stroll through Euston. What makes this all the more incredible is the fact that even the United States, the indomitable nemesis of the fledgling, rebel order, doesn't dare bombard its citizens with such fear mongering these days, especially with Obama in office; maybe we've grown wise in these past few years to the dubious returns of surrendering civil liberties to the state, of having our bags checked everywhere - London Eye; Hairspray; and The Royal Opera House check bags in London while the museums do not; somehow, that doesn't add up for me.
I'm in a majestic bookshop on New Street in Birmingham, and certainly to confirm my suspicions, there are just as many books on the death of Christianity in Britain as there are books which attempt to murder Christianity everywhere. I did find, however, a nice biography on John Wesley by Roy Hattersley and The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis. I may pick up the former.
Lunch with Sally was pleasant and mirthful. We dined at a French restaurant nearby New Street - yes, Birmingham is a cultural capitol! Sally and I both tried their omelette, while her boyfriend had the fish, without chips. Conversation was light, the levity was there and so was our reminiscing about those fleeting moments during our first year in Hong Kong; it is amazing how friendships can resume so suddenly with a smile. On their recommendation, I am on my way to Warwick Castle - they also suggested that I visit Cadbury World, but they cannot take on additional visitors at the moment, the tourist office staff informed me, much to my disappointment!
Visiting Warwick Castle really made for a great day out. The castle, parts of which were established by William the Conquerer in 1068, is as much a kitschy tourist trap as a meticulous preservation of history, at times a sillier version of Ocean Park while at others a dignified dedication to a most glorious, inexorably English past. The castle caters to all visitors; and not surprisingly, that which delighted all audiences was a giant trebuchet siege engine, which for the five p.m. performance hurled a fireball high and far into the air - fantastic! Taliban beware!
15.4.09
I'm leaving on a jet plane this evening; don't know when I'll be back in England again. I'll miss this quirky, yet endearing place; and that I shall miss Irene and Tom who so generously welcomed me into their home, fed me, and suffered my use of their toilet and shower goes without saying. I'm grateful for God's many blessings on this trip.
On the itinerary today is a trip to John Wesley's home, followed by a visit to the Imperial War Museum. Already this morning I picked up a tube of Oilatum, a week late perhaps, which Teri recommended I use to treat this obstinate, dermal weakness of mine - I'm happy to report that my skin has stopped crying.
John Wesley's home is alive and well. Services are still held in the chapel everyday; and its crypt, so far from being a cellar for the dead, is a bright, spacious museum in which all things Wesley are on display - I never realized how much of an iconic figure he became in England; at the height of this idol frenzy, ironic in itself, he must have been as popular as the Beatles were at their apex. The house itself is a multi-story edifice with narrow, precipitous staircases and spacious rooms decorated in an 18th century fashion.
I found Samuel Johnson's house within a maze of red brick hidden alongside Fleet Street. To be in the home of the man who wrote the English dictionary, and whose indefatigable love for obscure words became the inspiration for my own lexical obsession, this, by far, is the climax of my visit to England! The best certainly has been saved for last.
There are a multitude of portraits hanging around the house like ornaments on a tree. Every likeness has its own story, meticulously retold on the crib sheets in each room. Celebrities abound, including David Garrick and Sir Joshua Reynolds, who painted several of the finer images in the house. I have developed a particular affinity for Oliver Goldsmith, of whom Boswell writes, "His person was short, his countenance coarse and vulgar, his deportment that of a scholar awkwardly affecting the easy gentleman. It appears as though I, too, could use a more flattering description of myself!
I regretfully couldn't stop to try the curry in England; I guess the CityU canteen's take on the dish will have to do. I did, however, have the opportune task of flirting with the cute Cathay Pacific counter staff who checked me in. She was gorgeous in red, light powder on her cheeks, with real diamond earrings, she said; and her small, delicate face, commanded by a posh British accent rendered her positively irresistible, electrifying. Not only did she grant me an aisle seat but she had the gumption to return my fawning with zest; she must be a pro at this by now.
I saw her again as she was pulling double-duty, collecting tickets prior to boarding. She remembered my quest for curry; and in the fog of infatuation, where nary a man has been made, I fumbled my words like the sloppy kid who has had too much punch. I am just an amateur, alas, an "Oliver Goldsmith" with the ladies - I got no game - booyah!
Some final, consequential bits: because of the chavs, Burberry no longer sells those fashionable baseball caps; because of the IRA, rubbish bins are no longer a commodity on the streets of London, and as a result, the streets and the Underground of the city are a soiled mess; and because of other terrorists from distant, more arid lands, going through a Western airport has taken on the tedium of perfunctory procedure that doesn't make me feel any safer from my invisible enemies.
At last, I saw so many Indians working at Heathrow that I could have easily mistaken the place for Mumbai. Their presence surprised me because their portion of the general population surely must be less than their portion of Heathrow staff, indicating some mysterious hiring bias. Regardless, they do a superb job with cursory airport checks, and in general are absurdly funny and witty when not tactless.
That's all for England!
Some autumne colours with Voigtländer Prominent Nokton 50mm f1.5. Wide open (and even closed to f2) Nokton has quite vintage character in terms of IQ. It is soft compared to all other Voigtlander lenses of same period. Noticable haze could be due to its age and quite abused front element. Not noticable fringing. Colours are rich and natural with a good contrast out of the camera with standard Nikon settings. Here I did some color grading for estetic purposes, not because it wass really needed.
[ENG] The Rio Dulce (Sweet river) is a small river that is born in Estriegana (Guadalajara, Spain), in the Ministra mountains to 1.212 m. of altitude, it passes always for localities of the region of the Serranía (mountain range) de Guadalajara, it is a tributary for the left side of the Henares river, and this one in turn of the Jarama and of the Tajo. There is prominent his cross along the Parque Natural del Barranco del río Dulce (Nature Reserve of the Ravine of the Dulce river), where in the Pelegrina gorge it reaches his maximum altitude, and it passes for places of great environmental value, with forests of bank formed by black poplars, poplars and ash-trees, and numerous groves of evergreen oaks and gall-oak, and the bordering mounts and ravines they shelter numerous greedy that live in the rocks, such as eagles and royal owls, as well as other birds. In its waters common trout abound, that provide the food to a stable population of otters. In Pelegrina's Gorge numerous chapters of the Iberian series of The Man and the Earth were filmed, directed by the naturalist Felix Rodriguez de la Fuente. (Source: Wikipedia)
[ESP] El Río Dulce es un pequeño río que nace en Estriégana (Guadalajara, España), en la sierra Ministra a 1.212 m. de altitud, discurre siempre por localidades de la comarca de la Serranía de Guadalajara, es un afluente por la izquierda del río Henares, y éste a su vez del Jarama y del Tajo. Es destacable su paso por el Parque Natural del Barranco del río Dulce, donde en la Hoz de Pelegrina alcanza su máxima altitud, y discurre por parajes de gran valor ambiental, con bosques de ribera formados por chopos, álamos y fresnos, y numerosos encinares y quejigares. Además, constituye el hábitat de una pequeña población de desmán de los Pirineos, y los montes y barrancos aledaños albergan numerosas rapaces rupícolas, tales como águilas perdiceras, águilas reales y búhos reales, así como córvidos. En sus aguas abundan las truchas comunes, de las que se alimenta la estable población de nutrias. En la Hoz de Pelegrina se filmaron numerosos capítulos de la Serie Ibérica de El Hombre y la Tierra dirigidos por el naturalista Félix Rodríguez de la Fuente. (Fuente: Wikipedia)
085656
Taxodium Ditichum
A visit to the 'Bonsai House' at Mt. Coot-tha Botanic Gardens revealed a collection of wonderful plants in 'miniature'. This particular one stood out for me, its bark being a prominent feature.
For more detail, kindly click on capture.
Fortress Marienberg (German: Festung Marienberg) is a prominent landmark on the Main river in Würzburg, Germany. It has been a fort since ancient times. After Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden conquered the area in 1631, the castle was reconstructed in the Baroque style. Today, it is a park and museum. In 704 A.D., the Marienkirche was built atop a former Celtic shelter and in the 13th century was surrounded by the first fortification. In 1482, the main castle was encircled by a medieval ring wall with the Scherenberg gate. Some of the parts of the fortress accessible to the public are the Scherenberg-Tor (Gate) the Burgfried (keep), a chapel, a well house, Bibra Stairs / Lorenz von Bibra apartments, and the Julius Echter Apartments.
In May 1525, during the Peasants' War (Bauernkrieg), a peasant army of 15,000 men surrounded the fortification (seat of the bishop of Würzburg) but could not penetrate the concentric walls built on a steep incline. When their leader, Florian Geyer, went to Rothenburg ob der Tauber in early June to procure the heavy guns needed to at least attempt to breach the walls, the leaderless peasant army camped out around the castle, allowed themselves to be outflanked by a professional army in the service of the bishop. More than 8,000 peasants were either slaughtered or blinded on the bishop's orders. The Nazis would lionize Florian Geyer 410 years later, as part of the National Socialists' desire to connect with the common man and turn them away from the Catholic Church.
In about 1600, Julius Echter rebuilt the fortress into a Renaissance palace. After the conquest by Gustav II Adolf of Sweden in 1631 (Thirty Years War), the fortress was reconstructed as an even more formidable baroque fortification, and a princely park was laid out.
Still, during the Napoleonic Wars, the fortress was captured and, of course, the fortress wasn't defended in 1945 when the US Army quickly captured the side of the Main river on which Marienberg is located, across from the city center of Würzburg.
The Baroque Armory, built 1702-1712, houses the Mainfränkisches Museum, an excellent collection of Franconian works of art, including world-famous sculptures by Tilman Riemenschneider. The Fürstenbau Museum in the princes’ wing of the fortress offers a stroll through 1200 years of Würzburg’s history. The mighty Fortress Marienberg is the symbol of Würzburg and served as a home of the prince-bishops for nearly five centuries.
From: Wikipedia
The Pleiades, also know as The Seven Sisters, is a relatively young open cluster of stars located in the constellation Taurus. Its hot bright B-type stars provide the UV light which reflects off interstellar medium - resulting in a ghostly appearance.
This prominent winter cluster is easily seen by the unaided eye, and is currently visible to the east in the early evening (N latitudes). It's also visible on any Subaru.
mc_M45-SigComb18-flatsAPtif_crop-50r90q
50% scale - crop
20170214 - Newtown, PA
Nikon D5500
Nikon 300mm f/4.5 MF AI @f/8
20sx37, 1600iso
iOptron SkyTracker Pro
Regim Sig18 stack
Affinity Photo
• Ich bin ein Vizsla, ein Rassehund ! •
• " Der Kurzhaarige Ungarische Vorstehhund ( ungarisch Rövidszőrű magyar vizsla ) ist eine von der FCI anerkannte Hunderasse (FCI-Gruppe 7, Sektion 1.1, Standard Nr. 57). Als Vorstehhund gehört die Rasse zu den Jagdgebrauchshunden " •
• " The Vizsla (Hungarian: [ˈviʒlɒ])[a] is a dog breed from Hungary and belongs to the FCI group 7 (Pointer group). The Hungarian or Magyar Vizsla are sporting dogs and loyal companions. The Vizsla's medium size is one of the breed's most appealing characteristics. As a hunter of fowl and upland game, the Vizsla has held a prominent position among sporting dogs – that of household companion and family dog." •
Canon EOS 5DSR
Canon EF 24 70MM L F2.8 II
This is the most prominent, busiest and popular side of Grand Canal. This part of the Rialto bridge is normally full of people all day long. Except if you go for sunrise/dawn; you will find the place for yourself. This evening was not an exception. As I had prior experience of what to expect, I went prepared and went early so that I have time to get the right spot and setup things properly. Setting up a tripod here is close to impossible. So I kept my little pocket tripod with me. It is a bit tough to setup, but it is pretty stable unlike most pocket tripods. It is ruggedly build solid aluminium and has a payload of 8 KG; which is very good for any DSLR. As long as there is a right base to set it up; it is good to go. So I took my time to set it up and then it was all about wait for the right moment to click.
Yet again the mobile photographers were real pain with people almost stretching their arm in front of the camera and even using flash to lit up Venice!!! I had to be very careful and kept the camera strap all the time on my neck as those super excited mobile photographers could anytime hit the camera to send it into the river. I wish there was no mobile camera invented and I wish we were still in the film world where photography was so hard that it was out of reach for most of the people. In modern world, specially with the mobile camera, serious photography is becoming more and more difficult. Specially at the popular places.
However; I am happy as long as people respect others. But unfortunately many mobile photographers have no respect of others and they are mostly unaware of photography. So probably they unknowingly put their arm in front of someone's long exposure without knowing that a camera can capture an image for several seconds. For them, it is just one click. At the same time, the flash is probably also unintentional as the mobiles are in auto and the flash triggers automatically. Many users of the mobile camera don't bother finding out how to switch that off.
Finally when I managed to capture one decent shot, I was super happy as I almost lost my hope. I immediately got out of there leaving rest of the people to fight with their mobile. It was a great relief.
At the end the image was all right and I did manage to capture some of the movements on the water. Even though I wanted a bit longer exposure. It was impossible in that circumstance. So I will content myself with this.
I have read a lot about Venice becoming over crowded. I can relate to it. I visited Venice few times with intervals of some years and indeed; this time I experienced the worse. Many tourists not respectful of the fragile situation of Venice. Throwing garbage all over the place. Throwing bottles into the water. It was a sad scene to experience in this amazing historic city. That is why I liked the dawn photography more. As I could enjoy the calmness with no one around and I could explore the corners at my own pace without any chaos.
Please have a look at my website www.avisekhphotography.com for all my recent works.
Have a nice weekend.
Hope you will enjoy the picture.
Any suggestions or criticisms are always welcome.
The most prominent structure in this view of Washington Heights,one of many by Lawson,is Washington Bridge, completed in 1888 as a link between northern Manhattan and the Bronx over the Harlem River at 181st Street (not to be confused with the George Washington Bridge over the Hudson River,which opened in 1931).Lawson emphasized drama and design,not topographical accuracy. Looking toward the Bronx from the Manhattan riverbank,he eliminated the bridge’s wide masonry arches—a feat of modern engineering—and radically foreshortened the span on the Bronx side.Twilight and twinkling lights create a romantic mood.
Ernest Lawson (March 22, 873 – December 18,1939) was a Canadian-American painter and a member of The Eight,a group of artists who formed a loose association in 1908 to protest the narrowness of taste and restrictive exhibition policies of the conservative,powerful National Academy of Design. Though Lawson was primarily a landscape painter,he also painted a small number of realistic urban scenes.His painting style is heavily influenced by the art of John Henry Twachtman,J.Alden Weir,and Alfred Sisley.Though considered an American Impressionist,Lawson falls stylistically between Impressionism and realism.
Another amazing find yesterday was this dazzling Saddled Prominent caterpillar! This one had likely recently molted, as they are typically much less flamboyant...see below! I've never seen one like this...it looks ready for the Easter Parade!
Gangtey Goempa monastery, located in the Gangtey Valley of Bhutan, is a prominent Buddhist monastery. It holds great religious and cultural significance in the region. The monastery is perched on a hilltop overlooking the picturesque valley, offering stunning panoramic views. It serves as the seat of the Gangtey Tulku, a revered spiritual leader. Gangtey Goempa features traditional Bhutanese architecture with intricate woodwork and vibrant paintings. It is a center for Buddhist learning and practice, attracting both local devotees and curious visitors who seek spiritual enlightenment and serenity amidst its sacred walls - Gangtey Valley, Wangdue Phodrang, Bhutan
Common Tiger (Danaus genutia). (අග්නි ගෝමර) is a common butterfly of all over the island all the year round but less common over 4000ft. Flies rapidly. The sexes are similar but the male has the scent-pouch on the hind wind which is more prominent in the under side. Belongs to Nymphalidae family
A small yellowish finch with prominent wing-bars. Male is attractive and distinctive, with a yellow face and breast offset by a black cap and small chin patch. Female streaky overall, often with yellowish tones; note especially the yellow wing and tail flashes of both sexes. Inhabits mixed and coniferous woodland and forest; also found in parks and gardens, and visits seed feeders.
Often in flocks, mainly in the autumn and winter.
I'm glad Karen spotted this lovely guy the other day...usually rather common, I never saw one last year! I've always loved their somewhat iceberg bluish color!
Have a fun safe and healthy weekend, everyone!
Castelvecchio
(Italian: "Old Castle") is a castle in Verona, northern Italy. It is the most important military construction of the Scaliger dynasty that ruled the city in the Middle Ages.
The castle is powerful and compact in its size with very little decoration - one square compound built in red bricks, one of the most prominent examples of Gothic architecture of the age, with imposing M-shaped merlons running along the castle and bridge walls. It has seven towers, a superelevated keep (maschio) with four main buildings inside. The castle is surrounded by a ditch, now dry, which was once filled with waters from the nearby Adige.
Castelvecchio is now home to the Castelvecchio Museum and the local officer's club which can be accessed through the left door on Corso Cavour.
FOR MORE INFORMATIONS:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Castelvecchio_(Verona)
FOR THE PLACE:
wikimapia.org/#lang=it&lat=45.440151&lon=10.98772...
My Best greetings from one of the most beautiful and rich of art and literature cities in Italy.....
VERONA (NOTHERN-EAST OF ITALY , VENETO REGION)
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“It is an illusion that photos are made with the camera…
they are made with the eye, heart and head.”
[Henry Cartier Bresson]
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Please don't use any of my images on websites, blogs or other media without my explicit written permission.
© All rights reserved
Black Cock, fueled with testosterone as he performs his strut to attract the Grey Hen . The red eye wattles are particularly swollen and prominent during the Spring.
The prominent crater Copernicus taken with a ZWOASI224MC planetary camera using a Celestron C-8 cassegrain telescope.
This is the final photo I'll be sharing from the recently-burned Old Oregon Trail Cemetery in Huntington, Oregon. I really didn't think I'd be sharing as many as I did.
The stone most prominent in this photo belongs to Andrew McKinzie. He was born in Scotland in 1848 and died in Huntington in 1904. He was 56 years old.
By 1886 he had moved to Oregon and met Bertha Mittelbachert, an 18 year old woman who was twenty years his junior. She was from Berlin, German, and moved to Oregon with her family, though almost nothing seems to be known of them.
Andrew and Bertha had six children, One of them, Thomas Roy, is buried next to his father. His stone can be seen behind the fence. He died at the age of 12 in 1902.
That was two years before Andrew died.
Following Andrew's death, Bertha remarried. She was a widow at 34 years old and had four children. She married a local man, Richard Weeks. It's unclear when they married, but their first child, named Della Mary, came in 1908. The second and final came in 1910.
Richard died in 1947, but by that time Bertha's youngest of 37 years old. She and Richard had moved to La Grande near her two of her children, who likely looked after her. When she died, she was buried next to Richard in La Grande.
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'Itinerary'
Camera: Chamonix 45F-2
Lens: Schneider-Kreuznach Super-Angulon 8/90mm
Film: Agfa CP-BU M X-Ray Film; 50iso
Exposure: f/8; 1/125sec
Process: HC-110; 1+90; 7min
Oregon
July 2024
The prominent Orpheum and Pantages neon signs help illuminate Hennepin Avenue, probably the most colorfully lit stretch of street in Minnesota.
www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/minneapolis-mn-february-...
Obwohl das ungarische Parlament prominent direkt am Donauufer steht und auch die Straßenbahn beide Seiten des Ufers mit direktem Blick auf den Fluss befährt, lässt sich beides gemeinsam nur an wenigen Stellen vernünftig darstellen, soll die Aufnahme nicht zu einem Straßenbahn-Suchbild geraten.
Eine geeignete Stelle fand sich dann vom Budaer Ende der Margit híd (Margaretenbrücke) gesehen. Am späten Nachmittag steht hier die Sonne passend, doch nachdem die Aufnahme im Kasten und das Abendessen in einer nahen Bar eingenommen war, kam die Idee, dass dieses Motiv doch auch zur blauen Stunde mit beleuchtetem Parlament gut kommen könnte. Modernen Sensoren und KI-Entrauschung sei Dank, sind solche Aufnahmen heute möglich, auch wenn das T5C5-Doppel schwungvoll in die Gleisverschlingung unter der Margit híd hindurch beschleunigt um gleichnamige Haltestelle zu erreichen.
Dueling Greater Sage Grouse inflate their chests during the mating season, revealing prominent yellow air sacks which make a distinctive bubbling sound as they expand and contract. Their head kinda disappears into their white 'ruffle' while this happens.
I went searching for puss moth cats again and failed again, but instead I found three caterpillars that were new to me on sallow. A little research suggests they are pebble prominents, given their binomial by none other than Linnaeus himself, calling them ziczac because of the zig-zag pose typical of the larva of this species of moth.