View allAll Photos Tagged QuietMoments
We were at a resort a few years ago, where they had a quiet area and staff ready to "shush" you when breaking that one simple rule! That wasn't necessary here, where the few people up to see the sunrise remained quiet to enjoy the moment. Either that, or none of us were quite awake yet on this foggy morning.
One final photo from the many faces of Tomahawk Beach — this one capturing the calm, mirror-like surface of the Tomahawk River. A quiet moment, reflective in more ways than one.
Thought for today about families, and how brothers turn out so different to each other. How come Albert Einstein was such a genius, yet his brother Frank was such a monster ;) (Frankenstein )
Thanks to everyone who takes the time to comment on my photos, they are greatly appreciated!
Waterscape 59/100 in 2025
In the heart of the woodland’s embrace,
Where ancient trees stand tall,
A gray squirrel scurries with gentle grace,
Answering nature's call.
With fur as soft as silver mist,
It moves with practiced ease,
Through sunlit rays and shadows kissed,
Among the whispering trees.
Its tail, a plume of feathery gray,
Flicks with every leap,
As it dances through the branches,
In a silence the forest keeps.
With eyes that sparkle, quick and bright,
It surveys its leafy domain,
Collecting treasures, day and night,
Before the autumn rain.
A creature small, yet full of might,
With courage in its stride,
The gray squirrel thrives in nature’s light,
In the forest, wild and wide.
So let us marvel, as we see,
This acrobat of the wood,
For in its grace, so wild and free,
The gray squirrel lives as it should.
Morning comes slowly to Semangar.
The first light doesn’t shout—it whispers. It glides over the hills, brushing the treetops, pulling soft curtains of mist across the fields. In this quiet place, time feels older, slower, as if the world remembers how to breathe.
Years ago, these fields were filled with the sounds of bare feet on dew-soaked grass, the rustle of coconut palms, and the hum of morning life. Children laughed here. Elders sat beneath the trees, trading stories for silence.
Nothing grand happened. And that’s the beauty of it.
These were the mornings that shaped us—not through drama, but through stillness.
A place where the land taught us to listen.
Even now, as the light melts into golden haze, the memory lingers.
It’s in the way the hills hold their shape like old guardians.
It’s in the silence that speaks more than words.
This is not just a landscape.
This is a chapter—a soft one, worn by time but never forgotten.
Beneath the golden haze, peace is not just felt—it is remembered.
A lone tree stands like a memory etched in the sky, its bare branches spreading into the stillness. The land sleeps beneath a faded winter light, and in the distance, a solitary figure walks—small against the quiet vastness. The horizon is a blur of forgotten time, where earth and sky no longer argue about where one ends.
Insomnia struck again, so at 3:30 a.m., I decided to check the weather instead of counting sheep. A clear sunrise? Challenge accepted. I headed to Jonsrud Viewpoint near Sandy, OR, arriving at 5:30 in a brisk 29 degrees. Two hours of freezing later, my finger almost gave up on pushing the shutter button—turns out frostbite is a great motivator to pack up. But wow, those frosty trees and vibrant colors made it all worth it… even if I had to thaw out like a popsicle afterward!
It's amazing how you can speak right to my heart
Without saying a word, you can light up the dark
Try as I may I can never explain
What I hear when you don't say a thing
--Keith Whitley
There is such a quiet peacefulness about this image that I find myself drawn more and more to these these days.
In the calm early morning at Kota Tinggi, a lone boatman glides silently across the still river, reflecting the sky above. Surrounded by quiet trees and soft light, his gentle movement becomes part of a peaceful rhythm between nature and motion — a fleeting, serene moment where life flows in silence.
Nothing stays forever. The sun will set, the tide will rise, the golden light will fade. Even the stillest moments are always moving — slipping quietly into memory. But that is the gift of nature: it teaches us to pause, to feel, to see. To hold beauty, not by keeping it, but by carrying it within us. Beneath the golden silence, we are reminded — everything passes, and that is why this moment matters.
The forest stirs, but all is quiet.
Soft light filters through the trees.
Perched alone, the heron waits.
Still.
Aware.
Welcoming the day in silence.
We've been away for the last few weeks with limited internet connectivity. Here, one of our campsite neighbors decided to try his luck fishing for an early breakfast. I heard him launch the canoe and had just enough time to capture a couple of frames before he disappeared into the morning fog. The quietness of the moment was one of those times just to stop and take it all in. What my capture doesn't convey, however, is the cacophony of calls from all the early birds announcing their presence. I've never seen so many flashes of blue, yellow, orange, and many more colors, as they flitted about looking for a breakfast of their own.
I can't say we were up every day with the early birds and we had a couple of days where it was just nice to sit by the water and read a book.
Branches and a crescent moon, seen from the main building of the Institute of Low Temperature Science on the Hokkaido University campus in Sapporo.
Camera: Canon PowerShot G12.
Edited with Adobe Photoshop.
In the quiet spaces between the rush, life reveals its finest secrets.
A tiny shell resting gently among the whispering blades of grass reminds us that the most extraordinary journeys do not happen in haste — they unfold through patience, through presence, and through the eyes willing to truly see.
Minimalism in monochrome captures this truth:
it’s not always the grand, but the deeply observed moments that stay with us.
Because the greatest journeys aren't rushed – they are deeply seen.
He sat in the quiet arms of the tree, eyes lost in the light, as if remembering something the rest of us had long forgotten.
A glimpse of the outside performance area at The Sir Ken Dodd Performance Garden, Shakespeare of the North, Prescot.
Une photo de l'année dernière / A photo from last year...
26.07.2020
♪ ♫ "Goodnight World" : youtu.be/NgN12_xNHb0 ♪ ♫
__________________________________________________
© Tous droits réservés / All rights reserved
DON'T CLAIM AS YOUR OWN | NON-COMMERCIAL PURPOSE
Please, don't copy and use this image on websites, blogs or
other media and social media.
All my images are protected under international authors copyright laws and may not be shared, downloaded, reproduced, copied, or edited -in any way- without my written explicit permission. Any unauthorized use is strictly illegal and can be punishable by law.
If you want to use my photographs, you must request my permission via ✎ Flickr Mail or using → My Website's Contact Form
(I speak french, italian and a little bit of english).
__________________________________________________
Tucked between the dense green breath of the forest and the rhythmic whispers of the sea, a solitary red shrine stands still—weathered by salt, wind, and time.
Here, silence speaks.
The waves arrive like pilgrims, the breeze carries forgotten prayers, and the land holds its secrets in roots and stone.
A lone figure wanders the water’s edge, not lost—but searching,
for something only the shore can answer.
"Une tasse de thé rend tout meilleur."
***
"A cup of tea makes everything better."
__________________________________________________
© Tous droits réservés / All rights reserved
DON'T CLAIM AS YOUR OWN | NON-COMMERCIAL PURPOSE
Please, don't copy and use this image on websites, blogs or
other media and social media.
All my images are protected under international authors copyright laws and may not be shared, downloaded, reproduced, copied, or edited -in any way- without my written explicit permission. Any unauthorized use is strictly illegal and can be punishable by law.
If you want to use my photographs, you must request my permission via ✎ Flickr Mail or using → My Website's Contact Form
(I speak french, italian and a little bit of english).
__________________________________________________
She is 84 this year.
The years have carved deep lines into her hands and feet, but she walks to this spot every week — alone, slow but steady. She always sits on the same block of concrete, next to the marble dog with the frozen gaze. Some say the statue was part of an old temple gate, long forgotten. Others say it once guarded a family shrine.
But for her, it’s just company. Quiet, faithful company.
She never speaks when she’s here. She doesn’t need to. Her eyes rest on the horizon, just beyond the trees, toward the place where her husband was cremated thirty years ago. She doesn’t cry — not anymore. Time has softened grief into something else: remembrance, perhaps... or simply routine.
The temple grounds have changed. Monks come and go. Grass grows wild, trees stretch taller. But the marble dog remains. So does she.
Maybe she sees a reflection of herself in the stone — weathered, unmoving, steadfast. Or maybe she just likes how the late light filters through the trees from that direction, touching her face and the statue the same way, like they’re part of one still frame in a story only she remembers.
And so she sits — the old lady and her silent friend — watching, waiting, remembering. Together.
Der Eingang und sein Spiegelbild bilden eine doppelte Schwelle – von außen nach innen, von Realität zu Spiegelwelt.
The doorway and its reflection create a double threshold – leading from the outside in, and from reality into a mirrored world.
In diesem Bild hat mich die Begegnung zweier Welten fasziniert – die massive, historische Tür und ihr stilles Ebenbild im Wasser. Ich wollte den Moment einfangen, in dem Realität und Spiegelung sich begegnen und etwas Drittes entsteht: ein Raum dazwischen. Für mich ist diese Schwelle nicht nur architektonisch, sondern auch symbolisch – zwischen Innen und Außen, zwischen Vergangenheit und Gegenwart. Das Licht, das über die Steine wandert, scheint die Geschichte selbst zu streifen. Vielleicht ist es gerade in solchen Zwischenräumen, dass wir besonders genau hinsehen.
What fascinated me in this image was the meeting of two worlds – the heavy, historic door and its quiet reflection in the water. I wanted to capture that fleeting moment where reality and its mirror come together to form something in between. For me, this threshold is not just architectural, but symbolic – between inside and outside, past and present. The light moving across the stones feels like it brushes against history itself. Perhaps it’s in these in-between spaces that we truly start to see.
A long exposure shot just before sunrise taken at Lake Kolsay, high in the Tian Shan mountains in Kazakhstan near the border with Kyrgyzstan. I found a small gravel beach along the lakeshore where the curving shoreline lead the eyes towards the start of the sunrise at the end of the lake.
22/09/2017 www.allenfotowild.com
🌊 The Barges Lighthouse – Vendée, Atlantic Coast 🇫🇷
🗼 History & Facts:
The Phare des Barges is an offshore lighthouse located about 2 km from La Chaume, facing Les Sables-d’Olonne, Vendée, France.
✨ Built between 1858 and 1861, it was designed to mark dangerous rocky shallows (“les barges”) and to protect ships navigating the Bay of Biscay.
💡 Key details:
Height: 24.8 m (81 ft)
Elevation: 31.3 m (102 ft) above sea level
Material: granite masonry tower
Light range: 13.5 nautical miles (approx. 25 km)
Automation: Since 1987, it no longer has permanent keepers.
Architect: Léonce Reynaud, a major French lighthouse engineer of the 19th century.
️ Significance:
This lighthouse has withstood Atlantic storms and strong tidal currents for over 160 years, acting as a silent guardian for sailors navigating the wild Vendée coastline.
🎇 Special note:
Due to its offshore isolation, maintenance and construction were challenging, requiring complex logistics with landing only possible at low tide and calm sea. It remains an emblematic maritime heritage site of the region.
Le phare des Barges est situé à 2 km de La Chaume, appartenant à la commune des Sables-d'Olonne. Il a été inauguré le 14 octobre 1861.
en 1971,1er phare français automatisé.
Coordonnées
46° 29′ 42″ N, 1° 50′ 31″ O
Les Sables-d'Olonne
côte sauvage
Construction 1857 - 1861
Automatisation1971
Architecture Hauteur24,81 m
Élévation 31,3 m
Matériau Pierre
Équipement Lanterne lampe halo 20W
Portée13,5 milles
Feux 2 éclats rouges/10 s
My contribution to the 12.12 Project (instant photography collective) for June 2019. Our theme is la joie de vivre, which, for me is present in quiet moments, in intimacy, in the flowering of the plants on my balcony, in a beautifully written story....
People watching outside a Costa in Sandwich, Kent and this guy sat down with his coffee totally absorbed in his book. Couldn’t resist taking the shot.
i stood there for a while.
not because the light was perfect,
but because she didn't seem to care.
la lonja de la seda, valencia.
a gothic hall where silence carves shapes and people become part of the stonework.
The first row of houses here are built out into the harbour or bay at the Isle of Whithorn in Dumfires & Galloway, Southwest Scotland. The development of these harbourside houses and structures is closely tied to the history and evolution of the port and its need to service local maritime activity.
The Isle of Whithorn was once a true island but ceased to be so after the construction of a causeway and major harbour improvements in 1790, which physically linked it to the mainland. Much of what is now the main street and adjacent buildings, including the row of houses extending towards the harbour, actually stands on reclaimed land that used to be part of the tidal bay or open water.
Proximity to the water was crucial for those involved in maritime trade, fishing, and goods transport, allowing direct access to the harbour for working families and businesses.
As the waterfront became more secure and reclaimed, it made sense to use the space for dwellings and support buildings tied to the harbour.
This area has also seen conversion of older buildings (including former warehouses) into houses or holiday cottages in more recent years, maintaining the pattern of development along the quayside.
While the sight of houses so close to the sea can seem unusual—especially given the available land nearby—it's a pattern seen in many harbourside villages historically dependent on direct access to the water for livelihood and commerce.
Today, these buildings add to the Isle of Whithorn's picturesque and historic character, with many offering unique harbour views and a tangible connection to the village's maritime heritage
HR:
Skriven među granama, skakavac traži zaklon od vreline dana. U njegovoj tišini pronalazim prolaznu misao, onu o potrebi da usporimo, da zastanemo, da budemo tu – sada.
EN:
Hidden in the shade, the grasshopper seeks shelter from the heat of the day. In its stillness, I find a fleeting thought – the need to slow down, to pause, to simply be.
FR:
Cachée parmi les branches, la sauterelle cherche l'ombre contre la chaleur. Dans son immobilité, une pensée me traverse – celle de ralentir et d’être simplement là.
DE:
Versteckt im Schatten sucht die Heuschrecke Schutz vor der Tageshitze. In ihrer Ruhe finde ich einen flüchtigen Gedanken – den Wunsch, langsamer zu leben und einfach zu sein.
ES:
Escondido entre las ramas, el saltamontes busca sombra contra el calor. En su quietud surge un pensamiento fugaz: la necesidad de parar y simplemente estar.
IT:
Nascosto tra i rami, la cavalletta cerca riparo dal caldo. Nella sua quiete affiora un pensiero: rallentare, fermarsi, esserci.
In this quiet moment, nature extends a silent invitation — to step closer, to pause, to listen. Trees speak not with words, but through presence, rustling leaves, and filtered light. This image captures that gentle call into stillness and calm.
Light spills like memory across her skin.
The dust floats unbothered, the silence rests easy.
Nothing moves, yet something lingers.
A room held in its own breath —
and she, simply part of it.
🎵 Stephan Moccio - The Wanderer
the place: Frogmore
in the cathedral of modern silence, a solitary figure drifts beneath white ribs of steel and shadow — each step absorbed by the architecture’s pulse, each line a whisper of order against the vast hush of space.
🇭🇷 HRVATSKI
Starac i more – uvala Šilo, otok Krk
U tišini popodneva, dok se oblaci premještaju preko horizonta, gospodin Zdrenko – sportski ribić, strpljivo sjedi na svom sklopivom prijestolju, s pogledom uronjenim u more. U ruci drži štap, u srcu mir.
Ne zna se hoće li nešto zagristi, ali zna da je ovaj trenutak vrijedan svake sekunde. Nije važno uloviti ribu, nego uloviti mir.
Na molu, između neba i mora, čovjek i tišina postaju jedno.
🇸🇮 SLOVENŠČINA
Starec in morje – zaliv Šilo, otok Krk
V popoldanski tišini, medtem ko se oblaki počasi premikajo čez obzorje, gospod Zdrenko – športni ribič – potrpežljivo sedi na svojem zložljivem prestolu in zre v morje.
Palica v roki, mir v srcu.
Ne ve, ali bo riba prijela, a ve, da je ta trenutek vreden vsake sekunde.
Ni pomembno, ali bo kaj ujel – pomembno je, da ujame mir.
Na pomolu, med nebom in morjem, človek in tišina postaneta eno.
🇬🇧 ENGLISH
The Old Man and the Sea – Šilo Bay, Island of Krk
In the stillness of the afternoon, as clouds drift across the horizon, Mr. Zdrenko – a recreational fisherman – sits patiently on his foldable throne, gazing into the sea.
A rod in hand, peace in his heart.
He doesn't know if the fish will bite, but he knows this moment is worth every second.
It’s not about the catch, it’s about the calm.
On the pier, between sky and sea, man and silence become one.
🇫🇷 FRANÇAIS
Le Vieil Homme et la Mer – Baie de Šilo, Île de Krk
Dans le calme de l’après-midi, alors que les nuages glissent lentement à l’horizon, Monsieur Zdrenko – pêcheur sportif – est assis patiemment sur son trône pliant, les yeux fixés sur la mer.
Une canne à la main, la paix dans le cœur.
Il ne sait pas si un poisson mordra, mais il sait que cet instant vaut chaque seconde.
Ce n’est pas la prise qui compte, mais la paix.
Sur la jetée, entre ciel et mer, l’homme et le silence ne font plus qu’un.
🇩🇪 DEUTSCH
Der alte Mann und das Meer – Bucht von Šilo, Insel Krk
In der Stille des Nachmittags, während die Wolken am Horizont treiben, sitzt Herr Zdrenko – ein Sportangler – geduldig auf seinem Klappstuhl und blickt aufs Meer hinaus.
Die Angel in der Hand, den Frieden im Herzen.
Ob ein Fisch anbeißt, weiß er nicht – aber er weiß, dass dieser Moment jede Sekunde wert ist.
Es geht nicht ums Fangen, sondern ums Innehalten.
Auf dem Pier, zwischen Himmel und Meer, werden Mensch und Stille eins.
🇪🇸 ESPAÑOL
El viejo y el mar – Bahía de Šilo, isla de Krk
En la quietud de la tarde, mientras las nubes cruzan el horizonte, el señor Zdrenko – pescador deportivo – se sienta pacientemente en su trono plegable, contemplando el mar.
Con la caña en la mano y paz en el corazón.
No sabe si el pez morderá, pero sabe que este momento lo vale todo.
No se trata de pescar, sino de encontrar la calma.
En el muelle, entre el cielo y el mar, el hombre y el silencio se funden en uno.
🇮🇹 ITALIANO
Il vecchio e il mare – Baia di Šilo, isola di Krk
Nel silenzio del pomeriggio, mentre le nuvole scorrono all’orizzonte, il signor Zdrenko – pescatore sportivo – siede pazientemente sul suo trono pieghevole, con lo sguardo fisso sul mare.
Con la canna in mano e la pace nel cuore.
Non sa se il pesce abboccherà, ma sa che questo momento vale ogni secondo.
Non si tratta di pescare, ma di trovare la pace.
Sul molo, tra cielo e mare, l’uomo e il silenzio diventano una cosa sola.
The morning mist hangs like a curtain over the landscape. A figure walks through the fog, dew glistening in the rising sun. With each step, the mist slowly lifts, revealing what lies hidden beneath.
ascending into light, beneath mirrored steel and toward a symbol of centuries past, one figure steps forward. the silence of the frame holds weight — here, progress and memory converge in architecture and shadow.
at the kunst rondell near the messestadt ost station, architecture and motion collide in a quiet choreography. the massive curve of the structure wraps around the figure, a silhouette in mid-step, frozen in a moment of quiet determination. light cuts across the metallic facade, tracing sharp, geometric lines that contrast the softness of the figure’s movement.
the space feels monumental yet human – a balance between the overwhelming scale of the architecture and the fleeting presence of a person walking through it. the shadows stretch long, the curves cradle the light, and the figure disappears into the moment, leaving only the interplay of shapes and reflections behind.
this is more than a photograph. it’s a scene where stillness and motion coexist, where concrete and light tell a story of presence and transition, and where the human scale meets architectural grandeur.