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Easy to identify this butterfly with that big white question mark on the side of the wing. Found it in my back yard.
Question Mark Butterfly (Polygonia interrogationis)
My photos can also be found at kapturedbykala.com
.... I can't choose between these two editions! lol What is your opinion??? Which do you prefer? xD Thanks in advance for the opinions! greetings and happy week!
....así es, no puedo decidirme por ninguna de las ediciones de esta foto!! jajaja Cuál es vuestra opinión??? Cuál os gusta más u os disgusta menos?? xD Gracias desde ya por las opiniones!! un saludo y feliz semana!
© All Rights Reserved Please don't use this image on websites, blogs or other media without my explicit permission. best on black. click image to view on flickr black or see it on my stream in flickriver: www.flickriver.com/photos/msdonnalee/
Question: what is wrong here?
Solution comes on sunday evening
And the solution is: there is no window here, it's a big poster:
www.flickr.com/photos/wolfgang-kynast/16870445836/
But the window exists in another building of this company.
It seems that the question was too simple this week - I'll do my very best for the next one :-)
I've been working on my MW2 characters for a week now and I'm still not happy with Soap's face. Does it look alright or should I change it??
126:365
It's shots like this that make you ask the question.....what is a selfie? What is a self portrait?
This routine is a big part of my life so for me, this very much IS a selfie. A direct selfie, no. A selfie of my routine and where I am in life right now, yes.
I've been thinking a lot about what a self-portrait is lately. I think it can be many things, many types of portraits.
=]
Do you know what "hikifakcava" means? That's a Lebanese way to tell someone, Hi, how are you?
This one simple sentence (or shall I say a mutant-word), consisting of 3 different words, in 3 different languages - Hi (English), kifak (how are you/Arabic), ca va (French), fully expresses the lingvo-cultural diversity in Lebanon.
This tiny land is a mix of all confessions, cultural and ethnic groups otherwise scattered throughout the Middle East. Christian Maronite, Greek Orthodox, Melkite and Protestants, Muslim Sunnis, Alawites, Ismailis, progressive Muslims and Druze. Add to this work immigrants from India, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka and all over Africa.
When you ask a simple question to a random passer by, he first answers you in Arabic (they say I look like a local), and when you say your Arabic is very limited, they ask "Engish? French?". And when they know I'm Armenian, they'll always find a word or two in my native language to say :)
Sometimes, though, these utterly nice, hospitable, kind people make wars. And they kill each other because of religion, ethnicity, and anything else they can think of. The last civil war in Lebanon lasted from 1975 to 1990, and took lives of around 250,000 people. All Lebanese.
Now, to the positive side.
They call Beirut "The Paris of Middle East". It's been continuously inhabited for more than 5000 years now. It still bears traces of French colonization, not only in language, but also in architecture. Beirut is unlike any other Middle Eastern capital in being very liberal and culturally progressive. More than anything, Beirut is about arts, expressing one's ideas through street paintings, graffiti and music. We came across these stairs on a random street, while having a walk. We then spotted few more, with different patterns and colors.
Before we traveled to Beirut from Amman, a colleague told me, "Everyone loves Amman until they visit Beirut". And "You'll either hate it, or love it forever".
I love Beirut.
Thanks for your visit and have a great day!
Is it big? Is it small?
Minigolf de Plage, Franceville, FR, 2020
Arkliukas, pin 0,2 mm, Kodak Portra 400
After doing some serious research on the id of this bird, I came to no conclusion.
In early spring, at the same area, I saw two of them but never had time to take a shot. Because they flew almost right away, I thought they were Nashville Warblers. To my big surprise this week, I have seen them again. So that told me it was not a Nashville Warbler. It looks like a female Redstart to me but the yellow is very bright and all over the front which is not a female Redstart pattern. Also there is no pattern at all on the wings. I assume this is an adult as I have seen them in the spring. I have several shots but you can see the white and dark coloured pattern under the tail and some white patches on top of the tail..... I checked so many birds and still have no clue what it is. I would really appreciate your comments on that one. What do you think it is?
Jobst von Berg © 2024
Any duplication, processing, distribution or any form of utilisation shall require the prior written consent of Jobst von Berg in question
From Dollar Lake looking south, immediately, our decision to continue on our trek was questioned.
"Aaaaaah, it's just a little shower"
Prise de vue :
Leica M3, Summarit 5cm f/1.5.
Kodak : Trix 400@800 Asa.
Développement :
Kodak : D76 1+1 (11 mn) @ 20°.
Scanner :
Epson 1650.
#AbFav_SIGNS_of_SPRING_🐝
On my last visit to Belgium, I met up with a friend, a lady who is also a keen 'free-style' gardener like me, so it was inevitable that we talk plants and flowers...
I asked her the 'impossible' question, what is YOUR favourite flower???
After some humming and aahhing, her answer was WALLFLOWER!!!!!!
For all its stunning colours, no two are ever the same.
One of the few flowers that I had not photographed in the studio yet...
The weather was lovely, a late Easter Sunday, we wandered through her garden and I saw the wallflowers!
She got involved with a plant and that was my opportunity to take the shots!
Here they are, the fragrant multi-coloured wallflowers.
Lead and enjoy a good life, do and say things that enrich... and do not forget to tell the people close to you, how much you love them!
With love to you and thank you for ALL your faves and comments, M, (* _ *)
IT IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN (BY LAW!!!) TO USE ANY OF MY image or TEXT on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved
Wall-flower, Cheiranthus, center, petals, stamens, yellow, russet, orange, flower, Spring, natural, green, macro, colour, single, square, NikoD7000, "Magda indigo"
Island of Discovery - Questions (part 2/3)
Recovered from the journal of Reginald J. Schnuff; pirate, explorer, archaeologist, etc.
Journal Entry 457
“I awoke to the sound of waves and discovered that I wasn’t dead. Where was I and what happened? Then it came to me: the shipwreck. All my mates. Gone. Given up to the depths. I survived, but why? Here on an unknown island with no food or shelter. I was left to my fears and my racing heart. I was better off sinking in the sea.
I journeyed through the jungle for what seemed like days. Some places dark as midnight. Every sound made my skin crawl, and I knew that with every step I was being watched.
Still I found no signs civilization, and I couldn’t tell whether that was a good thing or not. The tales of cannibals and monsters even frightened a pirate such as I. The sea I could handle, but all alone on an unknown island, I wasn’t sure. But I would not go down without a fight that’s to be sure.
Then all of a sudden, I stepped into a clearing with what seemed to be a village taken over by the jungle. ‘So there are people here in this island?’ It appeared that nobody had been in these parts for a very long time, except for the lit torches. They cast an eerie glow over the buildings and dense foliage. I looked all around and couldn’t find a soul. ‘Where are the people?’ I wondered...”
Hey everyone this is the second part of my Island of Discovery miniseries. There will be a total of three MOCs in this series. Please let me know what you think of the MOC and the story!
Soli Deo Gloria!
-Caleb
ce goéland a l'air d'avoir les plumes qui prennent l'eau quelqu'un sait-il pourquoi ?
This one looks like soaked , anyone knowing why ?
I asked this biker guy two questions ... if I could borrow his hair for the weekend ... and if I could take his picture .... He said I couldn't borrow the hair ... but I made the portrait anyway ...
Model: Lilith Etch. Shot with Lilith inside the Lastolite Hilite. Questions, comments and critique welcome.
Instagram ≈ Youpic ≈ flickr ≈ 500px ≈ tumblr
© Copyright 2022 Barrie Spence. All rights reserved and moral rights asserted. Theses images are not in the public domain and may not be used without licence.
Comments are very welcome and very much appreciated, but any with linked/embedded images will be removed.
I've been wanting to make the joker batman for a while now and I only have one batman cowl left. I was going to use it for another bat figure that I started a while ago, but now I really want to make the joker batman. Should I just do it??
Found this very fresh Question mark in Juniata county 14July2021. I just love all the deep red/brown with the purples!
"Lay to Rest" [7/52]
So, to answer the question... no I didn't get a deer to lay down for us. The other night, this poor little thing was hit right in front of our house. The person just pulled her over into our yard and left her there. I have high hopes that she passed quickly but there were a lot of signs of internal bleeding, so I can only assume it took her some time to go. Usually when someone sees "roadkill" they think of ways to get rid of it. When I saw her, I thought of ways to make her beautiful again and to remember her. Yes, I did remove the flies, some of the scuff marks, and even removed her little tongue that was sticking out. I did however keep her bloat and her eyes.
People don't see the things I see. In person, she smelled awful, was stiff, swollen, bleeding and was covered in ants and flies. She was gone. A part of me is extremely afraid of how I will die. Could I die this way too? By a car? A hit and run... The older I get, the more I have to start facing death. Not just my own but other people around me as well. It's something I get extreme anxiety over and in person I tried to make a lot of jokes about the situation but I was really sad for this beautiful life.
People passed by, slowing down, staring, giving us really strange looks. I'm used to them all by now but when I feel strongly about something or taking photos, it melts away and I go into my own little world. Right here wasn't about me, it was about making this little woodland creature beautiful one last time before we buried her in our back yard. We have a field and woods if you're wondering why the back yard, which is where she came from in the first place. I keep wondering if she was the one I spotted last week close to our house.
So thankful for Liana to come out on such a short notice, put up with the smell, her leg fell asleep, and for everything else. She couldn't see what I could but she knew I had a vision.
Rest in Peace and I hope this photo did you some sort of justice. You couldn't of passed in a better place than in my front yard so you could be remembered forever in a piece of art.
In the twilight, the sky poured itself into a palette of whispered hues — violet and crimson, tangerine and pearl — as if the universe had exhaled all its colors in a sigh of resignation. The ocean mirrored this celestial canvas, a restless pupil absorbing the wisdom of an infinite teacher. Each ripple seemed to question the boundaries of being, curious and hesitant, like a child's hand reaching out to touch the face of a dream.
Here, the world was no longer a place of answers. The horizon bled uncertainty, a line drawn by an unseen hand that forgot the concept of edges. The clouds sprawled in streaks of mauve and gold, tendrils of thought from an intellect far too ancient to be hurried, yet too young to understand itself. The waves murmured secrets to the wind — secrets too elusive to grasp, yet too profound to ignore. They curled over rocks and sand, breaking into a gentle chaos, as though nature itself had briefly forgotten how to complete its sentences.
In the silent stillness, this scene held no promise of permanence, only an invitation to witness the fleeting. The sky’s aching expanse was a brushstroke of the eternal, and the water below was nothing but a vessel for reflections — a keeper of ephemeral flames. The moment teetered between oblivion and discovery, balanced delicately, impossibly, on the brink of time's vast and ever-receding shore.
For a breath, all of existence seemed caught in contemplation, as if even the universe were musing over its own creation, wondering how such beauty could rise from the convergence of chance and infinity. And then, just as softly, the sun dipped beyond sight, leaving only the lingering glow of wonder, and the endless mystery of night yet to unfold.
* * *
Beneath the lingering hues and the whispered secrets of light, there exists a bridge between the fleeting and the eternal. To step across it, to witness more moments where color and time converge in a delicate dance, wander further into the world of the artist who captured this Symphony of Passing Light.
Let your eyes explore the unseen, let your mind drift into reverie — discover www.coronaviking.com and follow the traces of twilight, the stories etched in waves, and the silent poetry of horizons yet to be touched.
Memoria......o Alzheimer?
Siamo il paese delle memorie corte, i nostri leader da sempre sono i perfetti rappresentanti, sia della cortezza che della bassezza.
Abbiamo talmente tanto da fare che spesso ci dimentichiamo delle questioni importanti, delle storie essenziali, dei fatti che hanno segnato la nostra Storia.
Pensare che al di là di una porta ci sia il nulla, è essere fuori dal mondo, saper farlo il vuoto è da criminali, compici degli stessi autori di delitti e nefandezze. E' così per l'omicidio Falcone, Borsellino, la strage di Portella delle Ginestre, Piazza Fontana, la strage di Brescia, di Bologna, la morte di Aldo Moro, Ustica, Gladio, Calvi impiccato sotto il ponte dei Frati Neri, l'assassinio di Carlo Alberto Dalla Chiesa, di Pasolini, di Mattei. Eppure è Storia recente, non stiamo parlando di Antichi Romani o Fenici.
Nonostante tutto ci si dimentica, si rimuove, si toglie dall'interesse collettivo, sperando che nessuno apra quella porta, scoperchi quel vaso che contiene verità scomode e nomi che nulla hanno a che fare con la Società Civile. Ci è stato detto che i colpevoli sono mafiosi, terroristi rossi e neri. Ma non ci siamo mai veramente chiesti come sia intervenuto lo Stato. Sappiamo che lo Stato ha partecipato...ma noi siamo fatti così, andiamo avanti comunque e nonostante tutto, siamo un popolo di Cattolici, perdoniamo la Debolezza umana, nessuno è perfetto e tutti hanno il proprio scheletrino nell'armadio.....ma se nell'armadio gli scheletri non entrano più che si fa?
EP+LC
[Canon Eos 300]
"How do you know when it's time for you to go
How can you stop when you don't know how to start
How can you go back when you don't know why you're here
How can you see when your eyes begin to fade
How will you hear when you've heard it all before
How do you do all the things you want to do
How much can you take when you've taken all you can
Hoe can you act when you've never seen the script
How can you choose when you don't know which is right
How far can you go if you've been there before
How can you shine if you've never seen the sun
How does a child become a man without a child
How can you heal someone that doesn't want to heal"
From the great and underrated INXS album Welcome to wherever you are: youtu.be/Us3p7SsrxvM
There were many unanswered questions in this house: such as why these shoes were left behind. I confess I put them on the window sill where I could photograph them better.
Question is!
In all truth the question doesn't really matter! the reason is more defining as to why we do what we do.
I've not been asked buy my parents why I do this crossdressing malarkey as of yet but it will come at some point so when it does what do I say?
We all have and most still do ask ourselves why we are like this but we very rarely ask what drives us. what makes us do what we do whatever stage you are on the spectrum.
For me I have from the day I mixed with other children identified more with the girls than I did with the boys, I even ran away from home at the age of eight or nine because my parents decided I should have my shoulder length blond hair cut into a more boyish style. I didn't get far in the running away thing making it as far as the playground lol
Even after a subliminal forced boyhood I still saw myself as a girl. even people who met me for the first time had to ask if I was a boy or a girl right up to the age of 12.. What you see now is just my bloody mindedness me saying "I only have one go at this life and I will be who I want to be regardless"
We are a long time dead and a short time alive.
my true identity and not my physical one drives me to morph into the woman above.
No outside influence made me this way, it wasn't nurture it is plan and simply the way nature meant it to be for me.
do you think that explanation will work?