Ruby-throated Hummingbird pair - Boothbay Harbor, Maine

 

Musta been something he/she said, and there was no reasoning with her that morning! Here he had to put on the brakes, and do a rethink about sitting next to her on the branch.

Coulda been worst, if it had been a Great Blue Heron pair,

'cause there's nothin' like GBHes when it comes to bad attitude!!!

Meeting point for persons interested in the Rastafarian culture

Traditional reference at the festival for all those who are interested in approaching the Rastafari livity or are simply curious to learn more about it. A space to reflect upon and discuss around this theme.

House Of Rastafari, features Nyabinghi chants, Reasoning Grounds, art and photography exhibits, as well as fundrising activities to support solidarity projects in Ethiopia and Jamaica.

Program:

rototomsunsplash.com/en/area/house-of-rastafari/

 

Rototom SunSplash 26º European Reggae Festival.

Benicàssim 16-22 August 2019 (Spain)

 

rototomsunsplash.com/

 

COURSE, THAT NEVER happened…(see quote within photo)

 

Had the AVRO ARROW, Number 106, flown with the newly completed and newly fitted “MIGHTY” IROQUOIS Orenda engines, the world speed record would have been shattered! Not just broken.

 

Unofficially, the Arrow had already broken the record with only the American Pratt and Whitney jet engines.

 

And Orenda’s “Mighty Iroquois” were just that, with a tested (at the Nobel, Ontario Orenda facility) and confirmed 27 % more engine thrust…than the Arrow’s then currently used Pratt and Whitneys.

 

The Federal Government of the day, led by Canada’s most inept Prime Minister of all-time, John G. Diefenbaker, that obtuse, small-town prairie lawyer, who gave the word to the RCAF that 106 was not to fly…

 

It was not, must not, be allowed to break the world speed record with those new Canadian engines.

 

If the record was smashed, the rationale went, how could “Dief” explain to the Canadian public, that in spite of that notable accomplishment, he was cancelling the Arrow and Iroquois Projects, and he would also be destroying all existing Arrow aircraft and Iroquois engines…blueprints, tooling, jigs etc., until not a trace was left.

 

Well, he couldn’t.

 

But despite John G.'s megalomaniac order, and decree of absolute destruction, some of Canada’s aviation love story did survive!

 

The nose, wings, and front undercarriage of Arrow 106 remain intact today. And are on display in Ottawa, at the Canadian Aviation Museum.

 

The Arrow presently gets hundreds of thousands of visitors a year.

 

So a nation that was supposed to forget…didn't.

 

Arrow 106 was a Mark II, meaning it came with Orenda Iroquois engines.

 

But how, HOW did these parts escape……when all the others didn’t?

 

Because someone in the RCAF, at great personal risk (criminal prosecution) had these top secret project artifacts hidden away…until such a time when “cooler heads would prevail.”

 

Course…that never happened either. Canada as a nation never did get over the debacle.

 

So, when it was safe to do so…when "Dief" was out of office, the remaining Arrow treasure was “discovered” at some RCAF Station and transported to the Canadian Aviation Museum in the early 60s.

 

And remember, if my party was in charge, under our “Right Those Wrongs” Policy we would commission an Arrow II Project that would aim to be all the present F-22 is and more…and its design would be based on an evolved Arrow.

 

The AVRO Newsmagazine featured on an all-Canadian quilt, was an in-house Avro Canada production produced twice monthly for Avro personnel. It had the latest company news, featured entertainment reviews by legendary Canadian Elwy Yost!…and even had a classifieds section.

 

This edition, only three months away from infamous Black Friday (February 20th) noted that the Arrow pre-production projects would be cancelled in February of '59…because the federal Government had concluded fighter interceptors were obsolete! AVRO Canada was openly optimistic that line of reasoning could be countered noting various USAF commitments to similar US jet interceptor programmes that were contracted through to the mid 70s. If unmanned Bomarc missiles were the answer…why was the USAF so committed to these non-missile, fully manned, aircraft programmes?

 

ALSO IN THIS EDITION, in response to media requests, the general public was informed that the Mark II Arrow fitted with Iroquois engines would be able to set a new world speed record “anytime we wanted to” but such an achievement would be a secondary byproduct of aircraft testing and not a goal, in, and of itself–

 

(That's Avro test pilot, "Spud" Potocki, in that Mark I Arrow. Spud was the test pilot who flew one of the Arrows "unofficially" to Mach 2.1)

  

IN RE DAEDALUS

...to be correct its absolutely fair, timely,

right to praise existent cultural event

in Time & Space, defining Age of Caves,

to dreams to fly as Birds achieving freedom

above the Earth, escaping yoke & fear to

be a prey of beast & savage, as ardent

power to survive in harsh conditions, in-short

defy most known dangers to fragile Life

in terms of victim in Stone Age, least armed

by only fists & stick...

"- ...Event of what?" - the artifice inventing

from a scratch extended reasoning about some,

or any artifact, let us to say: "critique", analysis

of pure abstraction, plasticity of Mind,

 

cognition, for mere convenience epitomized:

"Etudes of Czerny", - surprised analogy?

why not? the simplest answer to "...of what?"

Again - its fantasy presumes sole philosophical

approach as walk in lecture hall, or expose'

in archaeological museum in search ancestral

line, or Apples' Tree before & after dinosaurs,

or Apes, omitting even definition

"culture" as synonym of multy-focal hub

related to linguistic nature encapsulating

lineage of "tribe" & some expressions

explained exact as "quantum perturbation"

amidst the disarray by voices emitting rage

and "none elastic interaction" opposing

 

bodies of attractive charge, affecting

entropy & wasting Energy. Alas.

... and here's why frightful voices

from screaming articles, hysterical TV,

presaging propaganda in format of

screens by every mean supplied in panic

unpredictable upshot of fright & horror

at every corner & beyond

of Earth-spheroid , by its lethargic modus

operandi induced Hypnosis & trembling,

as if a frost spears skin by freezing needles,

as if a fallen Snow, only Snow! relieving

sadness & delivers harmony to heal abruptly

touching Soul, & witnessed drops from roofs

 

& tops off frozen pines & oaks -

all previous plumage of veiling leafs

& thorns alike eons ago, same piercing

ritual of season changing color -

soft, gradual, assembled by dictation

of prognosis on next Millennia its

Astral clicking log-calendar, & rumbles

endless running Times by changing

curtains & theatrical sublime of current

fervor, from different perspectives back

& forth through puddles turned to frozen

water at Flemish foggy antitheses utter

back to birth of Times on canvases

of Elder Pieter Bruegel, as similar as strokes

 

of brush, as Ancients depicted dreams by oil,

tempera, pigments - by vibes & heartbeats to

induce imagination' flow & closing gap

between reality, peysage, Ikarus's fall,

ambitious as any esoteric stunt

above exhausted peasants, its melancholic

habit to exist & outlive beyond kulbit

maneuver of piercing atmosphere above

astonished mountains' peaks, & vanish as if

wink of eye above Lilacs & Olives before

his fall: projected uniform momentum in

Eternity, or - as if a wings within its stupor

to go-up subdued evoked "reality" transformed

in Painting before the Mind connects event...

 

The sun is setting as this fellow who was striking a pose for me while setting on top a fence post.

I love the sound of the crows as I'd go hunting in the early mornings. The bad part was they are nature's alarm system which wasn't helping me out while hunting lol.

They are extremely smart and it is estimated that they have the reasoning abilities of a seven year old child.

I also find them interesting for they use military tactics.

Making use of scouts and guards.

 

I hope you enjoy this highlighed crow portrait with a back drop of the Tennessee mountains, Cades Cove to be exact.

 

Have a good one guys and thanks for visiting!!

By the time of this shot on 4/5/2005, the CSX former B&O Heights Subdivision had been embargoed south of this bridge, and the tracks to the north were used for head space whenever a long cut of ballast cars were taken out of the Thornton Quarry. So I was a bit surprised to see this crewless CSX former Conrail GP40-2 parked on the 1957-built bridge, reasoning that if I was the crew I'd probably want to park on solid ground!

I got my shots and went back to patrol, when I saw 3 guys walking back from Burger King about a mile to the west. They were the crew! All 3 piled into my police car and gladly rode back to their faithful steed, still perched on the bridge above the rushing waters of Thorn Creek. Despite an invitation, I declined a chance to walk across the bridge and climb aboard for a look inside the cab. You just don't tempt fate when you are wearing 12 pounds of police gear!

Glenwood, IL

Photo by John Eagan

Cerro de los Siete Colores (The Hill of Seven Colors) is one of the hills bordering the Quebrada de Purmamarca in Jujuy Province.

Its unique color range is the product of a complex geological history including marine sediments, lake and river movements elevated with the movement of the tectonic plates.

Aside from the commonly known name this colourful hill carries, the locals of the town of Purmamarca also refer to it as the Hill of the Seven Skirts. This is an unofficial name, and not many people other than those who live here refer to it this way. The reasoning behind this second name is because of the resemblance between the colours on the hill and that of the traditional, long skirts worn by Andean women.

 

This print is now for sale. 100 print run, on archival ink / semigloss finish, $50.00 print only, 12" x 18". Contact me via Flickrmail if you're interested.

 

Testing my newly gained understanding of HDR and photoshop skills.

 

7-shot RAW HDR tonemapped via PhotoMatix 3, then imported into Photoshop for artifact correction. Final color balance tweaks, cropping and rotation in Lightroom.

 

This is another step forward to where I want to be, as far as techniques and workflow ability goes. The next step will be getting panorama tools setup correctly to shoot this as a ultra-high resolution panorama.

 

During post-processing, all 3Gb of RAM was taken up by Photoshop and Lightroom (mostly Photoshop). I will need a computer upgrade to be processing things this way when I get my 5D Mk II. (Along with monitor calibration hardware if I'm serious about selling prints).

 

Update

 

Someone had FlickrMailed me about the post processing on this photo. I'll share the technique here.

 

I read through StuckInCustom's excellent tutorial here - before I headed out into the field. The enlightenment moment for me is realizing that when I first started doing HDRs, I wanted to capture that magical glow in the scene, and typically I go for the overexposures. However, I've always neglected the underexposed frames and as a result I don't have the data to fix the blown out light sources.

 

I think this scene works, because the arches in the pac sci center, and the neon signs on top of Key Arena, is very readable and not blown out / blurry due to overexposure. If this scene had a body of water in front of it I would have shot the long exposure shots to capture the glow off the water, but longer exposures here just blow out the scene and doesn't give me any more usable data to work with.

 

Now that you understand my reasoning going into taking this picture, the rest of the technique / workflow:

 

* I shot a series of shots in manual mode, ISO50 on the 5D, on a tripod with mirror lockup and self-timer (did not have cable release).

* The shots were bought into Photomatix, combined and tone mapped for detail enchancement. I up the white and black points to spread the histogram out and make the scene brighter and I played with the smoothing of the luminosity until I got something I liked.

* I then tone map this into a 16 bit TIFF, and send this TIFF into Photoshop

* I exported the RAW files for the darkest and a medium exposure out of Lightroom into Photoshop. I should play with this as a smart object, but I didn't have a lot of time editing this.

* The exposures are stacked top to bottom: HDRed TIFF, darkest exposure, normal exposure. Note that despite careful use of tripod and mirror lockup the camera still shifts between shots. I used the auto-align feature (layers, autoalign) to correct for the camera movement. I thought it was pretty cool... (I'm a photoshop n00b).

* Mostly I just use a layer mask, 30% transparency brush to brush away the blown / artifacts from the neon to expose the lowest exposure (middle layer) to repair the neon signs.

* I did some blending of the lowest and median exposure layers to try to give a better result with the neons.

* The result is saved into a flattened TIFF and bought back into Lightroom.

* I applied a white balance correction on the *final* product. I shot this on RAW, tungsten balance and found it too warm for my liking, so I decreased the color temperature until I got something I liked.

* Cropped and rotated it so that the buildings are actually vertical. I need to buy a new bubble level :-)

 

That's it! :-)

 

Thanks for all the comments, guys!

via my Instagram (toddg) ift.tt/2jh2VCQ

Canon EOS 6D - f/9 - 13sec - 100 mm - ISO 200

 

Labyrinth is a game of physical skill consisting of a box with a maze on top with holes, and a steel marble.

The object of the game is to try to tilt the playfield to guide the marble to the end of the maze, without letting it fall into any of the holes. The game features a suspended maze surface that rotates on two axes, each of which is controlled by a knob.

 

A classic wooden tilt steel ball/marble game

Encourages fine motor skills, visual-spatial skills, reasoning

A classic game, still as challenging as ever

Twist knobs to change board position and keep the marble rolling!

If marble falls, it rolls out from the lower level - Try Again!

Obstacles are numbered 1 to 60

Month 6: Compassionate

 

For the passed 7yrs, March 3rd has been the toughest day to get through, in my personal life, for personal reasoning. And though, the very next day marks another incredible milestone for us, you've managed to mold such sadness, into a compassionate moment I'll never forget. The fact that you took the time to create a space of Zen, peace and positive messages to uplift my spirits, show your genuine concern for my mental health. And without such compassion, theres no telling how long I could have held it together. The willingness to put my wellbeing before your own, and even considering to remain silent to give me that moment of quietness. Who does that but a kind soul? I am truly captivated by you, and intertwine in your heart strings. Thank you for extending your hand and picking me up whenever I fall. Keep singing to my heart. Happy 6! I love you more than words.

Image copyright claims Eiffel Tower by the Seine river, Paris, May 2014

The tower and its representations have long been in the public domain. However, in June 1990 a French court ruled that a special lighting display on the tower in 1989 (the tower's 100th anniversary) was an "original visual creation" protected by copyright. The Court of Cassation, France's judicial court of last resort, upheld the ruling in March 1992.[63] The Société d'Exploitation de la Tour Eiffel (SETE) now considers any illumination of the tower to be under copyright.[64] As a result, it is no longer legal to publish contemporary photographs of the tower at night without permission in France and some other countries.

 

The imposition of copyright has been controversial. The Director of Documentation for what was then the Société nouvelle d'exploitation de la tour Eiffel (SNTE), Stéphane Dieu, commented in January 2005, "It is really just a way to manage commercial use of the image, so that it isn't used in ways we don't approve." However, it also could be used to prohibit tourist photographs of the tower at night from being published,[citation needed] as well as hindering non-profit and semi-commercial publication of images of the tower. French doctrine and jurisprudence traditionally allow pictures incorporating a copyrighted work as long as their presence is incidental or accessory to the main represented subject,[65] a reasoning akin to the de minimis rule. Thus, SETE could not claim copyright on, for example, photographs or panoramas of Paris including the lit tower

 

Taken on August 28/2011

Lauderhill, Florida, USA

LG Electronics MS690

 

CCR-Have You Ever Seen The Rain?

 

Texture by lenoirrtextures: texture 06

Thank you very much Marion!

and

A touch of French Kiss Brushes Thanks a lot Leslie!!

 

PLEASE: Do not add your picture (even a miniature) or Flickr river link with your comment, it will be removed.

paradox

/ˈparədɒks/

 

a statement or proposition which, despite sound (or apparently sound) reasoning from acceptable premises, leads to a conclusion that seems logically unacceptable or self-contradictory.

Another one from a fair while ago that I've only just got around to processing. There was a stunning sunset going on over the left however I wanted a shot of the bridge at high tide so I was shooting out into the cloud (I know where did that stuff come from!).

 

Anita, you would have been impressed, I'm knee deep in water in my waders here, my primary camera was on a tripod in the water taking this LE shot. My primary camera being my new Pentax K30 at this point, and my K200D which had done me proud for a good few years was acting as temporary backup. I'd always wanted to have two cameras so that I could shoot LE with one and use the other to grad other shots. Anyway it was a little bit difficult trying to do that knee deep in water... so I did get some hand held shot of the sunset which I may or may not post as I'm not convinced I like them.

 

The thing is I don't really like doing anything that isn't LE as I enjoy the smoothing out of time and features you get in LE work whereas the sunset shot I've got I feel just looks like a mess. I might just post it for a laugh or I might try doing something to it in photoshop, faux LE.

 

Talking about the K30, I paid £500 for it and then about a week later they dropped the price of it and also started giving away a cashback. So I was able to buy a second one for £320. By my reasoning I was averaging it out so it was roughly £400... not bad considering the prices I see for some of the Canikons. So I've now got two pretty decent cameras and no need to change lens so I'm hoping for less of that pesky dust!

 

Twitter | Website | 500px | Getty Images | Stipple | Google+

   

"If we close our eyes the brain immediately conjures up a medley of impressions of light and color, apparently a sort of imitation and echo of the impressions forced in upon the brain during its waking moments. And now the mind, in co-operation with the imagination, transforms this formless play of light and color into definite figures, moving groups, landscapes. What really takes place is a sort of reasoning from effect back to cause."

Dedicated to my staunch critic T.V.Kalyan or fondly known as KTV

Every shot of mine that I liked, he absolutely hated it and those I disliked, he loved it.

Re-uploading this shot for him as he did not like the "blue" in the previous attempt

www.flickr.com/photos/anuj_photos/7216295844/

 

BTW worry not....I have often paid him back on his shots in the same coin ;)

 

Critic invited. Which one you liked (if at all) from the two post processings ? you reasoning will greatly help me to learn more.

 

Also this happens to be my 200th upload on flickr !!

  

"...by silent voice,

indeed(!) of yours, Almighty!

as spelled by whispering

above, and possibly within,

without lengthily inter-mezzo,

by utter Sun of shining beams

without preface of solid propositions,

and reasoning, and proofs of facts

from pages of abolished libraries,

and catalogs compressed by dust,

and folios on languages unknown

and then abstract

for purpose of transmitting words

from script of enigmatic Past

*****

encapsulated by the spectrum

into the Light already reigning far above

and tightly pressed upon retina of every day

by cleaning empty dust of words as if

from memory by every single image

evoked by expose' of Mother-Nature

by Wind and Sun, by pseudo-equilibrium

of proper means of jet-propulsion

of chaotic lines and images invisible,

but tangible as if on canvas,

as if dimensional, or sketched by tempera,

or flashing sparks of mute tonality

accentuating sight, and vain, but focused

upon objects of reconstructed mind..."

 

Chicago,, 2018

 

Reasoning behind the photo can be found in my blog at www.fernandocoelho.photography/blog

B.L.M. = Black Labs Matter - All the rest is bullshit

 

Flickr should be about PHOTOGRAPHY and not political correctness.

 

Before I was an Army helicopter Pilot, I served all races, religions, and creeds as an Army Medic. Trust me on this, we all bleed the same color. Beneath the epidermis, we are all the same color.

 

Mr. George Floyd was needlessly killed by a white Minneapolis Police Officer.

 

Ms. Justine Ruszczyk was needlessly killed by a black Minneapolis Police Officer. She is white (Caucasian). Oddly, racism was claimed when he was prosecuted for her death. How does that work?

 

Did anyone riot, loot, torch cars in the streets, burn shops, and tear down statues, in memory of her?

 

Or, doesn't her life matter as much?

 

Flickr, if you do not like my reasoning or if it represents too much truth and logic, then do not send me SPAM!

 

All you are doing is perpetuating anarchy, like facebook, twitter, and media pretending to be fair and unbiased.

  

Post Cards from the vacation that is my life. the go back and see what you missed why don't ya file. "

  

This from my one of my trips in 2005 to Myanmar. Soooo.... I shot this in Yangon just before one of my journeys to the outskirts of the absolute middle of nowhere and traveling back to the 19th century.

  

Josef Sude, one of my strongest visual photographic influences, had a practice of after developing the negatives he shhot he'd wait six months before he would print the images from those negatives. His reasoning was "so that he could see the image with eyes a new." Which is why I do not delete anything. Hard drives are cheap. So on rainy days (usually on Sundays) I go back and look at the past for things I may have missed.

  

I hand held this image at a 1/15 of a second. So we know vibration reduction works.... and I must have been on my first cup of coffee.

  

Shot with the D200 enhanced color IR modification the 28-300mm Nikkor (AKA "The Street Sweeper") my when in doubt go to lens.

  

For consideration only, no reproduction without prior permission.

  

#Nikon100 #nikonlove #kelbyone #photography #onOne @NikonUSA

#NikonD200 #NikonNoFilter #niksoftware #nikonUSA #Epson

#wacom #xritephoto #calibrite #onone #sunbounce #fineartphotography #kolarivision

#DxO #iamgenerationimage #iamnikon #B&H #PhotogenicbyBenQ

#nikonLOVE #hoodman #Myanmar #Burma

#nikonnofilter #nikonambassador

   

Female catches and killing a white-vented Myna.

The myna fights for dear life but its fate is sealed after a brief moment of struggle. Equipped with powerful talons, it does not take much effort for the hawk to overpower and squeeze the life out of this helpless myna.

I realized that myna bird comprises a large part of the hawk's diet. My hypothetical reasoning would be that goshawks are not part of the urban community where mynas and pigeons strive. These abundant city dwellers do not recognize the hawk as a natural predator (except human and domestic cats) and therefore they end up as easy preys.

To the hawk, it's a wining formula, nonetheless.

 

"My cat never laughs or laments. It is always reasoning."

Miguel de Unamuno.

 

Esta foto tiene derechos de autor. Por favor, no la utilice sin mi conocimiento y autorización. Gracias.

Please don't use this image on websites, blogs or other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved.

Looks like caught a possible whirlwind/dust storm on the right side of the picture. Checked all of the other pics, making sure to check others from this same viewpoint, no other pics have this. We did have a dust storm and rain later. And yes they do look like this, I've seen many while driving off by the Superstition Mtns. that were faint (had little dust in them), twisted like a snake, and anywhere from a couple hundred to a couple of thousand feet this year alone. This one is located very close to the San Tan Mtns.

Okay, the reason for the naming. I see a face in the center of the clouds with two bright eyes, pointy nose, and appearing to be blowing (see the lighter clouds streaming towards the whirlwind). This is my reasoning, and no I'm not on any psychedelic's, just the the meds the VA gives me :>}

Used a Canon T1i with a 70-300mm Quntaray lens @ 70mm

I was reading the classic by John Calvin circa 1536, written in Basel, Switzerland.

"God left us with many gifts of the Spirit. We see in these a trace of the image of God, which distinguished humans from the other creatures. 11.ii.18 – 11.ii.21 – Reasoning with regard to heavenly things consists of three things; 1) knowing God, 2 ) knowing his fatherly favour, and 3) knowing how to live by his Law. In regard to the first two, without the illumination of the Spirit of God, we are like travelers in a rain storm at night, in which brief flashes of lightening show the way, but glimpses are too quickly lost to be of any real good. In reality we are as good as blind to spiritual matters when left on our own. "

 

Food for thoughts.

I am often asked why dolphins leap out of the water when swimming. People often think they are having fun and it certainly looks that way. Dolphins have spindle cells in their brains as do elephants, apes,whales and humans. This gives them the capacity to express emotions along with cognitive reasoning, individual identification and problem solving.

During the summer i see and observe their behaviour three time a week.

Dolphins are mammals and breath the same air we do, when they are hunting they can demonstrate amazing bursts of speed, to facilitate a sustained chase and to increase speed they will leap out of the water where there is less friction and also enabling them to grab a breath without slowing down.

They also travel the seas, the dolphins that live in Lyme Bay cover vast distances and when on a fast swim will often breach to grab a breath.

Dolphins also get marine parasites on their skin, it is thought they will often do some extreme leaping to help remove the pesky parasites. And of course they do love to play. I have seen them over and over playing in the surf, leaping and surfing down large waves for no other reason than it is just a fun thing to do.

just as the trees on the bank of a lake are reflected in the water so also all these varied objects are reflected in the vast mirror of our consciousness.

This creation which is a mere play of consciousness, rises up like the delusion of a snake in a rope and comes to an end when there is right knowledge.

Even though bondage does not really exists it becomes strong through desire for worldly enjoyments. When this desire subsides, bondage becomes weak.

Like waves rising up from the ocean, the unstable mind rises up from the vast and stable expanse of the supreme Self.

 

It is because of that, which always of its own, accord which imagines everything quickly and freely that this magical show of the world is projected in the waking state.

This world, though unreal, appears to exist and is the course of live long suffering to an ignorant person just as the non existent ghost is the course of fear to a child.

...

  

If you separate yourself from the body and abide at ease in consciousness you will become One, the sole reality.

Everything else appears insignificant, ....

After knowing that by which you know this, the world, turn the mind inward and then you will see clearly the effulgence of the Self.

That by which you recognize sound, taste, form and smell, - know that as yourself, the supreme Brahman, the Lord of Lords.

That in which beings vibrate, that which creates them, - know that Self to be your real Self.

After rejecting, through reasoning, all that can be known as non- truth, what remains as pure consciousness, regard that as your real Self.

Knowledge is not separate from you, and that which is known is not separate from knowledge, hence there is nothing other than the Self, nothing separate from it.

...

  

from Yoga Vashishta Sara

  

(Published in Photo Technique, Spring 2013)

 

(Explore #270)

 

Living in Devon, I'm very lucky to have easy access to a wealth of picturesque, iconic, and even downright dramatic locations both here and in the surrounding counties. Many of these are world renowned, and arguably none more so than is the case with Botallack Mine in Cornwall - just a couple of hours drive from me. Bizarrely, I've recently been enviously studying a lot of images from Dungeness in Kent, and then suddenly realised I've perhaps been overlooking sites closer to home. It's not that I was unaware of Botallack - far from it - it's been on my list of places to visit for years, yet somehow I just hadn't got around to it. It was something of an eye-opener to get the opportunity recently, and I'm glad I did. Some places have an indescribable, rather unique aura about them and in this regard Botallack doesn't disappoint. Certainly there's a wealth of information about this historic area available on the internet, so I shan't bore you with tales of it's past. I shall instead point out that should you decide to investigate further and as a result pay a visit you're in for a treat - it's rare to find yourself in such a place steeped with an almost palpable sense of heritage and intrigue.

 

Of course, the summer of 2012 being what it is, my trip coincided with dour skies and drifting bands of rain. This in itself wasn't necessarily a bad thing - somehow I couldn't imagine Botallack in anything less than forbidding circumstance, yet as anyone knows rain droplets are the enemy of a photographer's lens. As my visit had been something of an unplanned affair, I'd done nothing in the way of research, but was anxious to at least take a couple of shots before the incoming weather worsened and the light faded completely. I've since come to realise just how frequently this vantage point has been used before me, but at the time I felt it was perhaps one of the few I could take advantage of due to it's sheltering position from the elements. Hunkering down behind a huge vertical outcropping of rock (and yes, I cast several wary glances at it while the wind veered around it's contours), I found a spot where I could wedge my tripod in the dry and go to work. In truth, I have resolved to return as don't think I really sought out 'my' angle here, yet at least another time I will have the benefit of some familiarity - plus the knowledge of one or two other vantage points I spied having checked out the lie of the land. I feel as if I'm touching on this a lot lately - the relative pros and cons of shooting the overly familiar as opposed to the completely overlooked... I don't believe there's a right and a wrong approach - such binary reasoning is for mathematicians and pregnancy tests(!), yet I personally get more satisfaction from successfully exploiting a hitherto unexplored vista. This may not mean on a different occasion I'll shoot from the hip while abseiling down one of these engine houses, but the brave never say never!

 

As for Dungeness, well, I'm still massively enthusiastic to pay a visit, and intend to do so in the winter months to empthasise the bleak atmosphere thoughts of the place always conjure for me. Even the rugged allure of Botallack can't dampen my ardour... Any photographic trip including five lighthouses, numerous decrepit buildings, boats, and a couple of nuclear power stations can't be bad!

I thought I'd try something a bit different, so here's my Sherlock Holmes and Dr John Watson standing on the footpath outside their lodgings, 221b Baker Street.

 

I am also currently working on figures based on the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and the novels by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle; A Study in Scarlet, The Sign of Four, The Hound of the Baskervilles and The Valley of Fear.

 

Next up is a Scandal in Bohemia.

 

I'd love to hear what you think.

During the chase of BNSF 4986 E along the Hi-Line Subdivision, the eastbound grain train would meet a westbound grain train that was in the hole at NYACK waiting for clearance down the pass. It was 13:35 by the time both trains met, and I figured it would make sense to break off the eastbound and chase the westbound back down the pass towards Columbia Falls and grab lunch afterwards. I had no clue was on the head end for power either; who knew what it was, it could’ve been something good, which only added to my reasoning. Dispatch wasted no time giving the westbound a light towards Whitefish, kicking off a brief 20-somethin-minute long chase through the Flathead Range.

 

An opening in the foliage along U.S. Route 2 at Bad Rock Canyon along the Flathead River proved to be a suitable spot to set up at, although by all means not a unique angle [the geotags at this location on RailfanAtlas say so]. At 14:07, the westbound would come into sight weaving it’s way along the northern banks of the River downgrade approaching CONKELLEY. #BNSF5828 [ES44AC] and #BNSF1018 [Dash 9-44CW] lead the company grain train through the Canyon trodding over a heavily graffitied retaining wall. The two lead units sport distinguishable paint scheme, neither of which are widely used on the roster.

 

5828 has the distinction of being the first of ten “25th Anniversary”GEVO’s painted in Mid-America Car in 2020 for BNSF. The units sport the decals of eight predecessor railroads: The CB&Q, Great Northern, Northern Pacific, Burlington Northern, ATSF, Frisco, Colorado & Southern, and the Spokane, Portland & Seattle. The trailing 1018 sports the railroad’s “Heritage 1” paint, the company’s first official paint scheme introduced in 1996. Two other BNSF motors would bring up the rear in DP position; a 2x2 grain train.

•

Columbia Falls, MT

BNSF Hi-Line Subdivision

 

Date: 07/30/2022 | 14:07

 

ID: [unknown]

Type: Grain

Direction: Westbound

Car Count: 115

 

1. BNSF ES44AC #5828 [25th Anniversary]

2. BNSF C44-9W #1018

3. BNSF C44-9W #5044 [DPU]

4. BNSF ES44C4 #6599 [DPU]

•

© Vicente Alonso 2022

What we see is not what we expected, because it is not what we wished for. You can never tell what thoughts run inside a person though and there reasonings for behaving the way they do. It is a major problem when it affects millions. Maybe eventually it could affect the whole world. And more than in the cost of fuel. We can only sit and wait.

I spent many good hours with this man, he showed me how his city was, he showed me the way, their way. He is part of Kryvyi Rih, it is his home. They speak Russian, they live in Ukraine.

Like most in his country, he is always willing to help. it showed many times through many people. And in the country of his vast neighbour too. So many helped me out. People are the same. Its just a shame about the rulers. Often voted in, sometimes it becomes late to turn back..

 

Lets hope for better times. And I hope we will meet again some day.

  

Anton Blashchuk stands before Petrove across the Irkrivs'ke reservoir, Kirovohrads'ka oblast Ukraine. September the 17th 2018.

We've all heard of 'puppy dog eyes' and 'piercing blue eyes' but this fellow's stare is remarkable. This is day three of this fellow in the back yard each day. This is through both the storm and back door's glass. I'm now convinced it is an immature Red-shouldered hawk (Buteo lineatus) rather than yesterday's assumption of Red-tailed. Like others, I'll string out my reasoning in a photo-a-day style.

One of the things that always bothered me back when Daisy was "maiding" for me on a regular basis a few years ago, was that I was obliged to keep her status and activities quiet. But now that everybody knows about her, there's no reason at all not to send her to the store if I discover we need something...right? I mean yeah, they don't know she wears this cute little maid outfit....but is it really such a radical departure from what they see nearly every day??

Hmm....It doesn't appear that Daisy is too fond of my reasoning, does it? 😉

Busier times at Rook Yard on the former P&WV.

 

The frac sand boom has since died off at Rook, and so has the gas trans loading that took place in the yard as well. This picture, taken in August of 2014 shows when the Wheeling was finally pouring some of the money they were making back into their own infrastructure. As a direct result, new ties, brand new CWR and tons of new ballast were laid to replace the older materials. The yard tracks were also slightly lengthened as well.

 

Basically, the yard was completely rebuilt from the ties up. Although rebuilt, this proved to be a constant challenge during the first year of the rehabilitation. This resulted in more ballast being needed than originally thought.

 

For some reasoning this day, the 610 Rook crew was unable to use the Wheeling power sitting on the west end of the yard for switching duties. This left 2 AVR unit's as the only power in the yard left that could be used.

 

A call was made from the Wheeling dispatcher to Carload Express to seek permission, which was later granted. During the earlier years of the natural gas boom on the Wheeling, yards consistently found themselves short on power throughout the system. As a direct result an order of 20+ SD40-2's were purchased off of various leasing companies to help shore things up.

The Series-2 Defense Mech is by far and away the most advanced model we have created here at Megabot Enterprises. A new gyroscopic stabilizer allows it to keep its balance on almost any terrain, and an advanced reasoning processor allows the Series 2 to make snap judgments in the heat of battle. This revolutionary new mech combines all the best traits of the other mechs in this business, and upgrades them to new heights. This is, in a word, perfect.

 

This came out better than expected. I was watching the movie Chinatown, and I decided to grab a handful of bricks to mess around with while I watched. An basic version of this was the result. I'm still not too sure about the color blocking, but I'm pretty happy with the shape.

 

Inspiration from anything Ironsniper has posted within the last month :)

 

Some snowflake are large tree-like sculpture, while others are tiny, almost coin-like in design. This one falls into the latter category. Hexagonal but rich in detail and surface texture, snowflakes of all sizes are worth observing. View large!

 

This snowflake is the reason for one of my theories in yesterday’s post. It clearly had “ridges” that are raised above the normal crystal structure, and some of them have begun to grow outward and “plateau” along their top edge. This was yesterday’s reasoning for how the side-branches appear to be growing underneath the main branch; you’re seeing the same physics at work.

 

The interesting thing about such small snowflakes is that you can observe interesting features in a simpler way. The ribs and ridges of the crystal can be easily identified and understood, but the thickness of the snowflake can also be seen. Very obvious at the bottom corner, you can compare the thickness to the other dimensions. If you notice a slight brightness shift about halfway down the “tall” side of the snowflake, you might be seeing evidence of “crystal twinning”.

 

This would be a small groove along the middle of this thickness cause by evaporation. Such evaporation would only happen if the molecular bonds were weaker, where two separate crystals joined together. This is quite common with column-style crystals, and I’ve seen it on smaller plates – but none this large before.

 

Regardless of the physics, this snowflake represents a tiny sculpture of nature. One that must follow certain rules and is created based on specific variables, but it’s also one we might find beautiful. It’s not often that math, science and physics equates to “beauty” in the eyes of the average person. The best exception I can think of is snowflakes.

 

For a deeper look into how snowflakes form, and how to photograph them, check out the book Sky Crystals: Unraveling the Mysteries of Snowflakes: skycrystals.ca/book/ - makes a great Christmas present and shipping daily!

 

Some people just want to admire the beauty of these gems, and for that there’s “The Snowflake”, a print created with 2500 hours of work across five years: skycrystals.ca/poster/

Since ancient times, the islands and coastal areas of Greece had boatyards where wooden ships were built. Wooden ships, also known in Greek as *kaikia* (aka caïque), played an important role in the economy.

 

These boats had unique technical, typological and cultural features, some of which dated back to the Byzantine-medieval era.

 

In 2013, the kaikia was added to Greece's National Index of Intangible Cultural Heritage.

 

Sadly, however, these works of art are today being destroyed after the European Union decided in 1983 to subsidize fishermen to scrap their boats. The initial reasoning behind this questionable decision was to tackle overfishing.

 

Besides the EU's irrational decision which failed to consider the importance of the kaikia tradition for Greece, decades of inactivity on the part of Greek officials led to the destruction of thousands of handmade wooden boats.

Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.

 

Tonight however we are at Rippon Court, the ancient sprawling Baronial style* house and family seat of Sir John Nettleword Hughes, buried deep within his vast estate of Rippon in Bedforshire. Old enough to be Lettice’s father, wealthy Sir John was until recently still a bachelor, and according to London society gossip intended to remain so, so that he might continue to enjoy his dalliances with a string of pretty chorus girls of Lettice’s age and younger. After an abrupt ending to her understanding with Selwyn Spencely, son and heir to the title Duke of Walmsford, Lettice in a moment of both weakness and resolve, agreed to the proposal of marriage proffered to her by Sir John. More like a business arrangement than a marriage proposal, Sir John offered Lettice the opportunity to enjoy the benefits of his large fortune, be chatelain of all his estates and continue to have her interior design business, under the conditions that she agree to provide him with an heir, and that he be allowed to discreetly carry on his affairs in spite of their marriage vows. He even suggested that Lettice might be afforded the opportunity to have her own extra marital liaisons if she were discreet about them.

 

Lettice, her fiancée, Sir John, and his sister Clemance have motored over from Lettice’s family home of Glynes in Wiltshire to host the Rippon Hunt. Being a keen hunter, His Royal Highness, Prince Edward, the Prince of Wales has sent word to Sir John that he and a party of his equally enthusiastic foxhunting friends wish to participate in the Rippon Hunt, so Sir John has cut short his sojourn to Fontengil Park in Wiltshire, near to his fiancée’s family seat and has reluctantly returned to his sprawling, draughty and slightly tumbledown, dreaded childhood home to host the Prince in a few days’ time. The Prince has also expressed his express wish to reacquaint himself with Lettice, now that she is Sir John’s fiancée, so she is playing hostess to His Royal Highness, and as the future Lady Nettleford Hughes, has been bestowed the honour of handing out the trophies. Clemance is attending as chaperone.

 

Lettice has not found Rippon Court to her liking. At least twice the size of her own childhood Georgian home of Glynes, it is too large to be a cosy family home, and the draughts, along with gloomy Victorian style furniture make the rooms so cold and unwelcoming. Revelations from both Sir John and Clemance about their treatment at the hands of their cruel and indifferent parents add to the taint that spoils the old house for her.

 

Nevertheless, between the sad stories, there have been moments of happiness for Lettice too, including a lovely afternoon spent with her fiancée in the Book Tower, a haven for Sir John and Clemance when they were children, where the pair enjoyed a luncheon of sandwiches and crumpets toasted over the Book Tower’s fire by Sir John himself. Sir John has just finished an amusing story about one of the old famers that had lived as a tenant on one of the Rippon Estate farms when he was a boy, making both Lettice and Clemance chuckle over their glasses of champagne as they sit by the fire, which keeps the general chill of the draughty old house at bay as the winter winds howl around it outside, bringing a fresh dusting of snow to the grounds of Rippon Court.

 

“Well, I’m glad to know that it wasn’t all gloom and misery here at Rippon Court, dear John” Lettice remarks with a sigh of relief as she chuckles. “Good memories are important too.”

 

“Oh, I meant to say,” Clemance says. “Even though it has nothing whatsoever to do with the conversation at hand, Lettice. Mrs. Tabner came to me this afternoon with the menu for His Royal Highness’ visit. I thought that since you are to be the future mistress of the house, it was better that I deferred to you.”

 

“Capital idea Clemmie!” Sir John remarks, sipping his second glass of digestif** port. “As the next lady Nettleford-Hughes, I’d take it as a personal favour if you showed an interest in what Mrs. Tabner has put together, and give her your opinion.”

 

“Well of course I will, John darling, if that’s what you want.” Lettice asserts. “But why is that such a great favour to you?”

 

“Well, it will help endear you to the staff. I don’t intend us spending very much of our married life here, as obviously this old, gloomy pile of bricks and stones brings me no joy, but I am grateful to be able to leave the running and maintenance of the house in the capable hands of staff like Huntley and Mrs. Tabner.” he says, referring to the Rippon Court butler and cook. “So if you can engage with Mrs. Tabner, I’d be most grateful.”

 

“Of course, John.” Lettice assures him.

 

“Jolly good, Lettice my dear. My cook at Fontengil Park isn’t a patch on Mrs. Tabner, but she’s a local woman and she won’t leave Bedfordshire for Wiltshire, even though I’ve tried to entice her to decamp Rippon Court.”

 

Just at that moment, there is a gentle rapping on the old oak door of the drawing room.

 

“Yes?” Sir John calls imperiously. Mr. Huntley’s head appears as he opens the groaning door and steps into the drawing room. “What is it, Huntley?”

 

“Pardon me for interrupting, Milord,” the butler says. “But it’s the telephone.”

 

“I didn’t hear a telephone bell.” Lettice remarks, looking around from the comfort of the Knole sofa*** on which she sits, warming her hoes before the crackling fire.

 

“Well, it’s so far away from here, just inside the vestibule****, in the entrance hall, that I’m not surprises you didn’t hear it, Lettice my dear.” Clemance remarks. “Father and Mother were out on the grounds so often, pursuing their lust for bloodsports***** and other outdoor activities that it seemed the most logical place to put it, right next to the garderobe******.”

 

“And it was cheapest for Father to put it there.” Sir John adds. “He and Mother was never ones for the telephone, and called it ‘that bloody contraption’,” He and Clemance chuckle at the quoted term.

 

“I think my maid, Edith, would appreciate your parents’ sentiments for the telephone.” Lettice chuckles with amusement. “She feels exactly the same way about mine, and tells it so too.”

 

“Oh how droll!” Clemance laughs.

 

“Humph!” Sir John starts to move himself out of the Knole armchair that matches the sofa, that he is comfortably ensconced in, mumbling and groaning as he presses on the arms to propel himself into action. “This better not be Charles Ireland******* of Toddington Park********,” he grumbles. “With more trying questions about petty protocols for His Royal Highness’ visit. I didn’t make him Master of the Rippon Hunt********* just for him to then telephone me at all hours, when it suits him, to ask me about the trivialities of noblesse oblige**********. Damnable man should never have tried to play the role of the country squire*********** and stuck with his property deals and town life, if he didn’t know what it entailed.”

 

“Language, Nettie.” Clemance chides her brother gently, sipping her champagne.

 

“Well, I best go, then.” Sir John concludes.

 

“I beg your pardon, Sir,” Mr. Huntly says. “But the telephone call is for Miss Lettice.”

 

“Me, Huntley?” Lettice asks in surprise.

 

“It’s Mr. Bruton, telephoning from London, Miss Chetwynd.” he elucidates in his deep, but soft, Bedfordshire accented voice.

 

“Oh Gerald!” Lettice exclaims, leaping from her seat lithely. “How delightful!” She glances at her fiancée with eyes a glitter with excitement. “You don’t mind, do you, John darling?”

 

“No,” he replies with a dismissive wave of his hand as he settles back down in the cosy confines of his armchair. “Not at all, Lettice.”

 

“Here,” Clemance says as Lettice passes her. “Take this with you,” She hands over her thick arctic fox fur stole, draped on the arm of her chair, to Lettice. “And your evening gloves. It will be positively glacial out there in the hallway.”

 

Lettice thanks Clemance as she slips out of the drawing room.

 

As the door closes, Sir John remarks to Clemance, “Funny business that, Gerald Bruton telephoning Lettice here.”

 

“Well, they are best chums after all, Nettie darling.” Clemance soothes. “And they haven’t seen each other since before Christmas. It’s probably to chat about her wedding frock.”

 

“I thought Sadie had put her foot down about him designing Lettice’s wedding frock.” Sir John opines. “There was such a hullabaloo about it.”

 

“Well,” Clemance shakes her head slowly. “I don’t think anyone could stop Lettice from getting what she wants in the end, even Lady Sadie. I suspect there are some discussions that she is entirely unaware of happening behind her back, and all will be revealed, exactly to Lettice’s wishes before the big day.” She chuckles good naturedly. “My dear Nettie, if you wanted a meek, mild and acquiescent wife, I’m afraid you have lucked out with dear Lettice.”

 

“I wouldn’t have her any other way, Clemmie darling.” Sir John replies happily.

 

Lettice follows Rippon Court’s butler down the long corridor which is only dimly lit by the occasional oil lamp used in the evenings for illumination rather than the electric lights overhead, carrying her nearly full champagne flute in her right hand as she pads after him. The shapes and shadows dancing and leaping across the walls, brought to life by the flickering night lights remind her of the old faerie tale of The Snow Queen, where Gerda, upon entering the castle of the prince and princess, sees shadows of knights and huntsmen, courting and dancing couples, which her companion the crow assures her are the dreams of the courtiers, and will cause Gerda no harm. She shivers, as much from the recall of this part of the story that always frightened her as a girl when her Nanny read her the tale, as from the cold of the hallway, with its hard wood panelled walls and black and white marble floor. She pulls Clemance’s stole more tightly around her with her evening glove clad hand, smelling the comforting scent of Clemance’s old fashioned perfume which has permeated the fur.

 

“Here we are, Miss Lettice.” Huntley says at length with a sweeping gesture as they reach a polished table, which like so many other surfaces around the house, is littered with relics of Sir Roderick and Lady Agnes Nettleford-Hughes hunting prowess. And there amongst the cold silver trophies sits a gleaming telephone with the receiver resting atop the polished surface of the table. He pulls out a small stool from beneath the table, probably used primarily for removing galoshes************* or outdoor shoes when coming inside. He then retreats down the hallway, his footsteps growing softer and more echoing with every step.

 

“Hullo Gerald darling!” Lettice exclaims with excitement as she places the receiver to her ear.

 

The line crackles before a slightly echoing and washed-out version of Gerald’s voice pipes up, “Hullo Lettice darling! How are you?”

 

“I’m well thank you, Gerald darling. Are you well? How are things down in London in my absence?”

 

The line crackles again as Lettice’s voice is carried down to the capital. “Oh everything’s tickety-boo, darling! The other night, Moaning Minnie,” Gerald continues as he mentions Minnie Palmerston, their mutual friend prone to scenes and histrionics, wife of cool and calm banker Charles Palmerston, by her nickname, acquired because of her propensity to moan about things. “Was accosted by an interloper at the Embassy**************, who was jolly handsy**************** with her, the cad!”

 

“Oh my! Did Charles punch him in the nose?”

 

“No fear!” Gerald laugh echoes down the line as he speaks. “She did the job for him, after she slapped his face and threw her glass of champagne in it. It was the highlight of the night, and caused quite a ruckus. The cheeky blighter was eventually dragged out into the street by his collar by two of the Embassy doormen***************** and told not to come back.”

 

“Oh, jolly good show, Minnie!” Lettice enthuses with a laugh as she sips her champagne.

 

“All the same, even with all the distractions, I’m missing you frightfully, Lettice darling!”

 

“Oh, I miss you too, Gerald darling, and the bright lights of London!” Lettice replies, tightening her grip on the receiver just a little more. “You won’t believe this, but,” She glances around her at the contorting shadows as she speaks. “I’m chatting to you by lamplight.”

 

“Lamplight?” comes Gerald’s cracking reply down the line. “Haven’t they heard of electricity in Bedfordshire?”

 

“Rippon Court is powered by a steam-powered generator******************, but it’s rather cumbersome for the servants to operate, so we use lamplight at night, except in the principle rooms we occupy, to conserve energy so the servants don’t have to work it late at night.”

 

“And what is the House of Usher******************* like?”

 

“Oh,” Lettice looks at the trophies glowing cooly around her and the lamplight as it flickers and ghoulishly highlights the hunting pinks******************** of a pack of foxhunters portrayed in oils hanging on the oak panelled wall above the telephone. “Glynes this is not, Gerald darling. I can well see why John and Clemance aren’t fond of it. It’s huge: far too big for my liking, but not impressive. It’s rather inelegant, built in a hotch-potch of styles, having been added to and added to over the centuries by subsequent family members. And it’s a bit tumbledown with it barely ever being occupied,” She shivers and pulls Clemance’s fur a little more tightly around her shoulders. “And it’s freezing.”

 

“Well it is winter, Lettice darling.” Gerald observes. “And you are in an old and ramshackle house in the middle of…”

 

A sudden high pitched squeal, followed by a barrage of male laughter sounds shrilly down the line from London, the noise distorted over the distance, shocking Lettice’s ear as it does.

 

“Are you telephoning me from that theatrical madhouse, Gerald darling?” Lettice asks.

 

“If you mean Hattie’s,” Gerald replies a little peevishly. “The answer is yes. Sorry. Aunt Sally,” he goes on, referring to Shakesperean actor Charles Dunnage using his female nickname*********************. “Wanted us to play Pirandello********************** after supper. It’s been quite a spirited game. My apologies for the noise. I’m in Hattie’s hallway, outside the dining room.”

 

“Oh don’t worry, I’m sitting in the glacial entrance hall of Rippon Court, which is the only place this house has a telephone wired.”

 

“Sounds ghastly.” Gerald opines.

 

“Why didn’t you telephone me from Grosvenor Street?” Lettice asks, referring to Gerald’s couture business’ address. It certainly would have been quieter to do so.”

 

“Because it’s late, and I’m not hanging around Grosvenor Street, just for the pleasure of telephoning you. Besides, Grosvenor Street does not offer Hattie’s cooking, nor a warm bed.” Gerald emphasises the last two words meaningfully, implying that he will be staying the night, spending it in the bed of his homosexual lover, West End oboist Cyril, without explicitly stating it***********************. “If you understand me.”

 

“Oh of course!” Lettice says, blushing red in the oil lamp’s illumination as she speaks. “Sorry Gerald darling. I understand.” She falls silent for a moment before adding, “I hope you are going to recompense Miss Milford for the use of her apparatus, Gerald darling. Her bill would be high enough the way that thing gets used in her household by her theatrical lodgers, and this will be costing her a fortune.”

 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that Hattie is recompensed properly, Lettice darling.”

 

“Very good.”

 

“So what’s the plumbing like?” Gerald goes on.

 

“Rudimentary.” Lettice answers matter-of-factly as she runs her glove clad fingers over a horse trophy at her right. “There are a couple of plumbed lavatories************************, but for a bath, two of the housemaids have to bring a portable tub to my dressing room, which like everywhere else in this house is draughty and cold, and they then have to then carry hot water up goodness knows how many flights of backstairs from the kitchens, so it’s not particularly hot by the time I receive it.”

 

“And the Prince is staying?” Gerald asks in incredulity. “Surely not!”

 

“No, he’s only participating in the Rippon Hunt and stopping for luncheon, thank goodness!” Lettice sighs. “I’m sure with his preferences for American convenience and luxury, the Dickensian************************* arrangements we are forced to put up with here would not be suitable for His Royal Highness.”

 

“And the food?” Gerald queries.

 

“Mrs. Tabner and her kitchen maid do an admirable job. The food has been plentiful, delicious, and perhaps surprisingly considering the temperatures of Rippon Court, remarkably hot.”

 

“Well, that’s something, at least.” Gerald opines. “And what of the other situation.”

 

“Your telegram, which arrived the evening we arrived, said that there was nothing to report from the Pinkerton agency, so I didn’t reply.”

 

“No,” Gerald hisses down the telephone, his voice cracking as he speaks. “I didn’t mean that. And no, nothing new from the Pinkertons, so nothing needs addressing via this telephone call. Your situation with Sir John, is what I was referring to!”

 

“Oh that!” Lettice picks up her champagne flute, takes a larger than ladylike gulp and sighs. “It’s hard, Gerald darling.”

 

“Why hard?” Gerald asks in concern.

 

“I feel so torn.” Lettice gulps, swallowing back as of yet unshed tears. “I’ve learned so much about John in the last few days since we’ve been here. He and Clemance were punished for the very smallest of infractions by their parents.”

 

“Well, weren’t we all?”

 

“Not the way John and Clemance were. I don’t wish to divulge the specifics over the telephone, but they were badly treated, and were subjected to beatings. They were ignored by their parents, or tolerated, I suppose is probably the word for it.” Lettice looks around to make sure that Sir John or Clemance are not hiding in the shadows, having come to fetch her back to the drawing room, fearing she is lost. However, she is quite alone where she sits. “I’m starting to understand why John is the way he is: distant and business like. He’s being protective of his own heart.”

 

“Lettice.” Gerald says warningly down the crackling telephone line from London.

 

“I have pity for him.”

 

“Lettice!” Gerald growls again.

 

“And there have been times when he has actually been quite sweet to me, whilst we’ve been here. Just yesterday, we had a lovely and romantic luncheon in one of the towers here, where he and Clemance used to hide. They call it the Book Tower.” Lettice babbles on, not wanting Gerald to interrupt her. “He even toasted me crumpets with his toasting fork and served them to me, Gerald darling. I’m starting to think that underneath all that bravado and businesslike shell, he actually does care for me.” She snakes her head. “Maybe even more deeply than he cares to admit.”

 

“Lettice!” Gerald snaps again.

 

“And I think I could be happy with him, you know, Gerald darling, especially now I understand why he is so remote and aloof.”

 

“Oh don’t say it, Lettice darling, please!” Gerald implores. “You… you haven’t agreed to a date yet have you?”

 

“Well, no, not yet, but…”

 

“Good!” Gerald cuts Lettice off. “Then don’t.”

 

“He’s wearing me down, Gerald. I really do think I could be happy with him.”

 

“Well,” Gerald sighs down the line from London. “Be that as it may, I need you to stick to the plan we agreed to in London, stay strong and stall. Don’t give him a date yet, no matter how much he, or Mrs. Pontefract try and wear you down. Please Lettice!”

 

“But I thought you didn’t dislike John, Gerald darling.” Lettice mewls.

 

“I don’t.” Gerald replies. “But, I also don’t think settling for this marriage, at least not yet, will do you any good until we know more about what happened with Selwyn and that Kitty Avendale woman. You think you might be happy to settle for a marriage of convenience, and believe me that is what this is, Lettuce Leaf.”

 

“Don’t call me by my dreaded childhood nickname, Gerald Bruiton!” Lettice spots hotly. “You know I don’t like it!” She pouts churlishly.

 

“I’ll call you what I like, Lettuce Leaf, if you continue to act foolishly, such as you are now. Open your eyes and see that this marriage for what it is: an arrangement between two lonely people. I do not doubt that Sir John is fond of you, as you yourself have confided in me, but it is not a love match.”

 

“That time has passed.” Lettice says bitterly, taking another gulp of champagne.

 

“Not necessarily.” Gerad counters. The line falls silent for a few moments, with nothing but the sound of crackling between the two best friends. “Marriages of convenience are all well and good.” Gerald continues at length. “I know of several, and the couples are very happy in their arrangements,” He sighs heavily. “However, a marriage of convenience, even one based on mutual admiration and a certain fondness, is a poor cousin to a love match.”

 

Lettice begins to sob down the telephone.

 

“It would be a tragedy to go into this marriage without first establishing whether Lady Zinnia had her hand in splitting you and Selwyn apart and orchestrating her own marriage of convenience for her son.”

 

“You think John was involved, don’t you?” Lettice asks in an accusing tone, the tears streaming down her cheeks. “You think he had something to do with all this.”

 

Gerald doesn’t answer at first, but when he does, his answer surprises Lettice. “Actually, I’m in agreement with you, Lettice darling. I don’t think he had anything to do with it.”

 

“You don’t?” Lettice manages to ask in amazement.

 

“Things just happen by coincidence sometimes, and that’s what I think has happened here. I don’t think Sir John had any inkling as to whatever it is that Lady Zinnia has planned. Lady Zinnia is far too calculating to share her ideas with anyone outside her most trusted circle of companions. I feel that Sir John made you a proposal without knowing, or perhaps even thinking, that you would accept, just to put his hat in the ring. I know he admires you, Lettice. Forwarding your career and giving you comfort and stability might be his way of showing his admiration for you.” He sighs heavily again. “I just wat us to get to the bottom of who is behind all this, and why, and to find out the truth.”

 

“But what…” Lettice snivels, as she dabs her eyes with a dainty lace trimmed handkerchief . “What if we find that Selwyn really is happily married to this Kitty Avendale?” Lettice gulps. “What if the Pinkerton agency tell us the worst possible news? What then?”

 

“Then at least you can go into your marriage with Sir John, knowing that you are fully appraised of all the facts.”

 

Lettice can suddenly hear Cyril’s voice clearly in the background, calling for Gerald to join him, Harriet and the others in the dining room.

 

“Look, I have to go.” Gerald says. “And as you’ve intimated, this telephone call has cost Harriet… me… a fortune. Please, just do as I said in my telegram. Stay strong, and don’t give in until we know more. Please Lettice darling!”

 

Lettice sniffs and smiles a teary smile, even though she knows that her best and oldest childhood chum can’t see her. “I’ll try.”

 

“No,” Gerald replies warningly. “You must do more than try. You must hold firmly on this. Now, when does the Prince arrive?”

 

“In a few days.”

 

“Then throw yourself into all that surrounds the visit and let it distract you. Now, I must go. Goodbye Lettice darling! I love you.”

 

“Love you too.” Lettice murmurs down the receiver before the line suddenly goes dead.

 

Lettice replaces the mouthpiece back atop the sparkling metal cradle, where it releases a single echoing ting that seems more forlorn by the darkness and emptiness of her surroundings. Lettice sits on the stool for a while longer, sobbing, dabbing her eyes and trying to regulate her shuddering breaths before returning to her companions in the Rippon Court drawing room. She doesn’t know quite how long she has been there for when a familiar voice penetrates the shadows and her consciousness.

 

“Lettice?” Sir John calls with concern. “Lettice are you quite alright? Clemmie and I have been worried. You’ve been gone so long.”

 

His tall and noble form suddenly appears out of the shadows, stepping into the light, highlighting the smart cut of his Jermyn Street************************** tailored set of tails. His face, cast half in shadow, looks so much older than it does during the day, with every wrinkle on his brow, down around his mouth and under his eyes standing out dramatically. Then again, Lettice considers, perhaps it is the look of concern etched on his face that makes him look every minute of his age.

 

“Lettice, you’ve been crying.”

 

“Oh no.” Lettice manages to mutter with a blocked nose dulling her usually elegantly elocuted tones. “Just a little, John.”

 

Sir John strides up to his fiancée and stands over her, holding out his hands to her and looking down upon her with genuine concern. “Whatever is the matter? Did Gerald say something to upset you?”

 

“No! No, John!” Lettice assures Sir John. “He didn’t upset me at all.”

 

“Well, something obviously has, Lettice my dear.” he says kindly, his look encouraging her to take his hands, which she finally accepts with a sniff and a deep sigh. “It’s this wedding frock business with your mother, isn’t it?” he asks. “She doesn’t want Gerald Bruton to dress you for the occasion, but you do. Is that it?”

 

Lettice sees his reasoning like a light at the end of a long and dark tunnel, allowing her to escape having to tell Sir John the truth about her reason for being upset. Rather than speaking, she simply nods shallowly.

 

“I keep telling you, Lettice. I’d be just as happy to marry you in a registry office***************************, like everyone did during the war, with you wearing that rather fetching powder blue ensemble of yours with your fox fur stole instead of a bloody white frock that causes you to cry.” He trembles with a mixture of frustration and unhappiness as he shakes his head. His eyes glint darkly in the light of the oil lamps. “We still can you know.”

 

“What?” Lettice snuffles.

 

“Get married at a registry office. We can have Clemmie and Gerald as witnesses if you like, and to hell with the rest of them.”

 

“Oh, John darling! You can’t mean that!” Lettice exclaims.

 

“If a wedding frock is going to cause you this much pain, then yes, I do mean it, Lettice. You could be standing next to me in anything, and I would be perfectly happy. I can’t abide all this fuss your mother is making over wedding plans,” Sir John lets out a heavy sigh before turning and looking down the dark, shadowy hallway over his shoulder before continuing. “And if I’m being truthful, I don’t think Clemmie is much better than Sadie. I know this will only affirm in your eyes that I’m a crochety old man, and a businessman set in my ways at that, but my patience for all this wedding nonsense is wearing thin. Don’t do it for them. Let’s just go.”

 

“But I want to get married properly, John, and that includes in a wedding frock of my choice. You said yourself that I will wear Mater down eventually when it comes to who is designing my frock.” She smiles as a thought suddenly dawns in her mind. “It just might take a little more time than planned, before we set a date.”

 

Sir John sighs with exasperation and throws his hands in the air. “I don’t understand you sometimes, Lettice my dear, but have it your own way.”

 

Lettice dabs her eyes again. “Come on, John. Let’s go back and join Clemance in the drawing room.”

 

Sir John proffers his arm to Lettice, who entwins hers with his as she accepts, and slowly they begin to wend their way down the shadowy corridor.

 

*Baronial style, primarily Scottish Baronial, is a Nineteenth Century Gothic Revival architectural style mimicking medieval Scottish castles, featuring crow-stepped gables, conical towers (tourelles/witches\' hats), battlements, and turrets, creating a romantic, fortified look with asymmetrical plans and heavy stonework, heavily popularized by Sir Walter Scott\'s Abbotsford. It blends Scottish vernacular with French and Gothic elements, evolving from fortified tower houses into grand country homes and public buildings.

 

**Drinks after dinner are most commonly called digestifs, French for "digestive," as they are traditionally believed to aid digestion and conclude a meal, often being stronger spirits like brandy, cognac, or liqueurs, though non-alcoholic coffee also serves this role, sometimes called a pousse-café.

 

***The original Knole Settee (also known as the Knole Sofa) is a couch chair that was made in the 17th century, probably around 1640. It is housed at Knole in Kent, a house owned by the Sackville-West family since 1605 but now in the care of the National Trust. It was originally used not as a comfortable sofa but as a formal throne-like seat on which an aristocrat or monarch would have sat to receive visitors. It was wide enough that a monarch and consort could be seated side by side. As of 2021, it is kept at Knole House in a transparent case.

 

****A vestibule is a small entry hall or waiting area just inside the main door of a building, acting as a transition space from outside to inside, reducing heat loss, and providing room for the divestment and potential storage of outdoor coats and shoes.

 

*****Bloodsports are sports or entertainment involving bloodshed, pain, and suffering, typically between animals or humans, like cockfighting, dog fighting, bullfighting, and often including certain types of hunting (like fox hunting or hare coursing) where killing or severe harm is integral to the "sport". These activities are often illegal and controversial today, focusing on violent combat for gambling or amusement, rather than traditional, regulated field sports like normal hunting or fishing. However, in the Victorian and Edwardian eras, fox hunting, grouse shooting and hare coursing were not only commonplace amongst the aristocracy, but a standard part of the London Season, with wealthy families decamping London and retreating to country estates before Christmas to pursue the hunting season and the county balls that went with them throughout January and February.

 

******A garderobe is an archaic term that was used in medieval times for a room where clothes were stored, and in more modern times referred to a large armoire or wardrobe.

  

*******Mr. Charles Ireland was born in the Bedfordshire town of Toddington who had made money through property dealing. He bought Toddington Park (also known as Park House) in 1921 upon the death of its previous owner Colonial Mercer. In 1930 Charles Ireland was made bankrupt as a result of the Great Depression.

 

********Toddington Park (also known as Park House) is an elegant Georgian house that was built in 1824 by the Cooper family as a replacement for the old Manor House. With later Nineteenth Century alterations and additions made, its features include colour-washed stucco, a hipped slate roof with an eaves cornice, a first floor band and two canted bays.

 

*********In the 1920s, a Master of the Hunt was the individual with ultimate authority over the management and conduct of a fox hunting club and its activities. The role involved significant financial and organisational responsibility.

 

**********Noblesse oblige (French for "nobility obliges") is the concept that people of high rank, wealth, or privilege have a moral duty to act honourably, generously, and responsibly towards those with less advantage, using their position to benefit society rather than just themselves. It signifies that privilege entails responsibility, requiring the influential to demonstrate good conduct, protect the vulnerable, and contribute to the common good, often through philanthropy or setting a positive example.

 

***********A country squire is a wealthy landowner in England, influential in local governance and community, often a Justice of the Peace or Lord of the Manor, just below the rank of knight.

 

************Hullabaloo likely comes from an Eighteenth Century rhyming compound, combining the shouting interjection "hallo" (or "hollo") with the Scottish word "baloo," a lullaby sound, creating a nonsensical but descriptive term for a noisy uproar or commotion, first appearing in print around the 1760s. Some theories link it to older folk traditions or even Hindi/Persian roots, but the "hallo plus baloo" origin is the most widely accepted.

 

*************Galoshes are waterproof, rubber overshoes worn over regular shoes to protect them from getting wet, muddy, or snowy, commonly seen in slip-on or buckle-front styles. They\'re a classic form of protective footwear, sometimes called "rubbers," that helps keep shoes and feet dry in inclement weather, though the term is considered somewhat old-fashioned now, often replaced by "rain boots" or "Wellingtons".

 

**************Believed to date from British colonial rule in India, and related to the Hindi expression “tickee babu”, meaning something like “everything\'s alright, sir”, “tickety-boo” means “everything is fine”. It was a common slang phrase that was popular in the 1920s.

 

***************The Embassy Club – fondly referred to by the Prince of Wales as “the Buckingham Palace of nightclubs” – was considered one of the first and best nightclubs in London\'s West End. Located on Old Bond Street, it was the place to be and be seen in, in the 1920s and 1930s: the spot where London\'s Bright Young Things would gather in their finest evening dress and jewels to dance, drink, and overindulge in legal and extralegal activities. With its seven-piece band and cabaret, the Embassy Club was full to capacity nearly every night – and of course, the Prince of Wales’ frequent visits to the club were an additional draw for women who wanted to “dance with a man who’d danced with a girl who’d danced with the Prince of Wales.”⠀

 

****************To be handsy means someone has a tendency to touch people with the hands, especially in an inappropriate or sexual way.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

 

*****************Nightclubs in London during the 1920s had security personnel performing the functions of modern-day bouncers, often referred to as "doormen". Their primary role was to control access, collect entrance fees, and prevent law enforcement from entering the illegal establishments, as much of their activity (particularly the sale of alcohol after ten at night) was illicit.

 

******************While the Victorian era saw pioneering use of private electricity generation in English country mansions (most famously with hydroelectricity at Cragside), it was common for country houses in the 1920s to use steam-powered generators. By the 1920s, private generating plants using steam or water power were a well-established feature in large, remote country estates in England, as the public electricity grid was still in development and often did not reach rural areas until much later.

 

*******************The House of Usher refers to the central setting and family in Edgar Allan Poe\'s classic 1839 Gothic short story, "The Fall of the House of Usher," a tale of madness, decay, and premature burial. Both the house and the family are presented as decaying entities, intertwined with a hereditary curse, culminating in the literal and metaphorical collapse of the structure and the Usher lineage as the house splits in two at the end of the story after its inhabitants, siblings Roderick and Madeline Usher die, unravelling of the Usher family line, which ends with Madeline\'s premature burial and Roderick\'s subsequent demise.

 

********************Bright red coats known as “hunting pinks” were traditionally worn by English gentlemen hunting on horseback. The name implies that they should be pink, but it is alleged the frock coat was named for English tailor Thomas Pinque (Pink).

 

*********************Historically, queer slang emerged as a way for queer people to communicate discreetly, forming a sense of community and shared identity. Using female names or terms could be a way to signal belonging within this coded language. It was also used for protection, allowing homosexual men to talk about one another discreetly in public without the implication of homosexuality and the repercussions that came with it as a criminal act.

 

**********************Charades is a popular party game where players silently act out words or phrases (like movie titles, book titles, or common sayings) using only gestures and body language, while their teammates guess the answer within a time limit, without any speaking allowed. It\'s a game of pantomime and interpretation, relying on established hand signals and creative acting to convey meaning, often involving syllables or parts of the phrase before the whole. A version called Pirandello appeared in the 1920s, where the audience had to guess a personality being acted out rather than a title, was played regularly in sophisticated social groups. Pirandello developed in artistic and literary Chelsea and Bloomsbury.

 

***********************Prior to 1967 with the introduction of the Sexual Offences Act which decriminalised private homosexual acts between men aged over 21, homosexuality in England was illegal, and in the 1920s when this story is set, carried heavy penalties including prison sentences with hard labour. Telephone lines during this era were not secure, and it was well known that telephone exchange operators, particularly country exchange operators where they were often on their own, listened into private conversations, even though it was frowned upon. Gerald’s caution about not stating anything explicit about his homosexuality would have been a practical precaution against gossip and implication that carried penalties. The law against homosexuality was not changed for Scotland until 1980, or for Northern Ireland until 1982.

 

************************The term lavatory was a widely used and "upper-class" term for the facility. The terms WC, an abbreviation for "water closet", and "loo", which came into use around this time (the earliest Oxford English Dictionary citation being 1922) were acceptable across different social strata. The term "toilet" itself was often considered "non-U" (not upper-class) and associated with the aspiring middle class during this period. The American term "bathroom" started to emerge in the U.S. in the 1920s but was a source of confusion for British travellers at the time.

 

*************************The word "Dickensian" was first used in print on March the 19th, 1881, in The Athenaeum, a British literary and arts journal. This usage occurred over a decade after the author Charles Dickens\'s death in 1870. The term was coined to describe conditions, characters, or scenes reminiscent of his novels, typically referring to poor social or bleak economic conditions and inequality.

 

**************************Jermyn Street is a one-way street in the St James\'s area of the City of Westminster in London. It is to the south of, parallel, and adjacent to Piccadilly. Jermyn Street is known as a street for high end gentlemen\'s clothing retailers and bespoke tailors in the West End.

 

*************************** Marrying in a registry office in the United Kingdom became an option with the Marriage Act of 1836, which came into effect on June 30, 1837. This act allowed for non-religious civil marriages to be held in register offices, offering an alternative to traditional church weddings, particularly for those who were not members of the Church of England. Prior to this act, marriages in England and Wales were primarily overseen by the Church of England, even for individuals who were not members. The 1836 Act aimed to provide a more inclusive system, recognizing civil marriage as a valid legal contract and allowing for marriages outside of religious institutions. Getting married in a registry office became particularly popular during the Great War (1914 – 1918) when couples short of time, and desperate to take advantage of the moment would eschew the formalities of a traditional wedding ceremony.

 

Beautiful as they may be, this selection of trophies and telephone sitting in the midst of a grand country house may not be all they seem, for they are in fact made up of miniatures from my 1:12 miniatures collection.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableau include:

 

The black Bakelite and silver telephone is a 1:12 miniature of a model introduced around 1919. It is two centimetres wide and two centimetres high. The receiver can be removed from the cradle, and the curling chord does stretch out.

 

The large and medium sized lidded trophies were made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. The silver salver beneath the larger of the trophies was also made by Warwick Miniatures. The tiny horse comes from my friend Kim (BKHagar *Kim*) and were sent to me last Christmas as a present.

 

The avant-garde Art Nouveau statue in the form of a woman with foliate decoration is a hand made sterling silver artisan miniature, made by an unknown American artisan.

 

Lettice’s glass of champagne is made of real spun glass and is an artisan miniature made by Karen ladybug Miniatures in the United Kingdom.

 

The painting of the hunt in the background in its gilded frame, I acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House shop in the United Kingdom.

Эфемерные облака и неподвижные камни.

 

Было утро , но палящий степной зной стремительно набирал силу. Все замерло в ожидании ливня . Все кроме вездесущих ящериц и меня , устало бредущего к своей палатке. На земле штиль , а над головой

кордебалет быстро движущихся облаков, напоминающий пляски половцев .

Проходя мимо очередной группы валунов моя камера щелкала в такт хаотичным мыслям . В этот

момент понял глубокую связь между эфемерными облаками и неподвижными валунами. Оба созданы силами времени и природы, воплощая постоянно меняющуюся суть существования. Облака, отражают быстротечность жизни, отбрасывая тени, которые изменяются в такт капризам ветра и времени . И наоборот, стойкие валуны символизируют устойчивость перед лицом невзгод, отражая неизменную сущность каждого из нас.

В это знойное утро сделал для себя открытие - одно из проявлений красоты заключается в тонком балансе между движением и неизменностью.

 

Возможно такие рассуждения возникают после перегрева под палящим степным солнцем , а может виновата просто ФОТОГРАФИЯ.

 

А. Суховский

 

Украина. Николаевская область. с Актово.

  

Ephemeral clouds and motionless stones.

 

It was morning, but the scorching heat of the steppe was rapidly gaining strength. Everything froze in anticipation of the rain. Everyone except the ubiquitous lizards and me, wearily wandering towards my tent. There is calm on the ground, but overhead

a corps de ballet of rapidly moving clouds, reminiscent of the Polovtsian dances.

Passing by another group of boulders, my camera clicked in time with my chaotic thoughts. In that

moment I realized the deep connection between ephemeral clouds and motionless boulders. Both are created by the forces of time and nature, embodying the ever-changing essence of existence. Clouds reflect the transience of life, casting shadows that change in time with the vagaries of the wind and time. Conversely, resilient boulders symbolize resilience in the face of adversity, reflecting the unchanging essence of each of us.

On this sultry morning, make a discovery for yourself - one of the manifestations of beauty lies in the delicate balance between movement and immutability.

 

Perhaps such reasoning arises after overheating under the scorching steppe sun, or maybe the PHOTOGRAPHY is simply to blame.

 

A. Sukhovsky

 

Ukraine. Mykolayiv region. v Aktovo

Since ancient times, the islands and coastal areas of Greece had boatyards where wooden ships were built. Wooden ships, also known in Greek as *kaikia* (aka caïque), played an important role in the economy.

 

These boats had unique technical, typological and cultural features, some of which dated back to the Byzantine-medieval era.

 

In 2013, the kaikia was added to Greece’s National Index of Intangible Cultural Heritage.

 

Sadly, however, these works of art are today being destroyed after the European Union decided in 1983 to subsidize fishermen to scrap their boats. The initial reasoning behind this questionable decision was to tackle overfishing.

 

Besides the EU’s irrational decision which failed to consider the importance of the kaikia tradition for Greece, decades of inactivity on the part of Greek officials led to the destruction of thousands of handmade wooden boats.

no ps for today. no tricks just trips. those who get it get sucked in. those who don't point their clean fingers. i won't bite got better things to do with my fangs. how dark a hole how big a plunge how absurd the reasoning how about a matter of choice.

 

is this description lame or what.

I almost think DHG and I were crazy for going inside a house this dilapidated. Almost, but not quite. The photos are well worth the risk.

 

My reasoning: the floor is holding up the piano....it'll definitely hold for DHG and me, there wasn't much left of the roof, just the aluminum siding and a few 2x4s.....that wouldn't kill either of us and if the floor did fall through, it wasn't far to the ground. In my mind = safe!

(en) : an algobug in the reasoning . . is not it?

 

__________________________________________________

Outlining a Theory of General Creativity . .

. . on a 'Pataphysical projectory

 

Entropy ≥ Memory ● Creativity ²

__________________________________________________

 

Etude du jour:

 

1 - Zero is a number.

2 - The immediate successor of a number is a number.

3 - Zero is not the immediate successor of a number.

 

1 - Zéro est un nombre.

2 - Le successeur immédiat d'un nombre est un nombre.

3 - Zéro n'est pas le successeur immédiat d'un nombre.

 

( Giuseppe Peano )

 

__________________________________________________

rectO-persO | E ≥ m.C² | co~errAnce | TiLt

Not your every day occurrence but from time to time the dispatcher will route Amtrak 5 down the uphill track 2 instead of the downhill track 1 to the right. The reasoning behind this decision on this afternoon was likely due to a few things. One being that 5 was almost an hour late and by using the short, faster track 2, it would help make up for lost time. The other being, while 5 was at its station stop on track 2 in Colfax, an eastbound stack train was climbing the grade below on track 1 because of not having tunnel clearance for its double stacks on track 2 through Applegate. The dispatcher decided to keep 5 on track 2 for the rest of the way down to Roseville. Here it is seen approaching the double tracked tunnel 18 at Newcastle, CA in late afternoon light. September 2017

Midjourney, Photoshop

 

Inspired by my film 'Delirium'

youtu.be/7lVKLTtNeR0?si=rbCDK8dWkGDoXRU5

 

I jitterbugged into jungle city

a shimmering delirium

of clustering geometries

splicing clouds in a black light sky

 

I was lost on my way to Indooroopilly

to catch a pied Butcherbird

or catch a pied Currawong’s

silvery cry

 

I was babbling in Babylon

foaming in the firmament

tentatively teetering

on bridges made of fire

 

I was frozen in motion

muttering in monotones

shuddering and shaken

on an ice-grass pyre

 

I was deafened by an opera

of caterwauling cockatoo

sirens of apocalypse

splintering the dusk

 

I was dangled like a bat

from my outermost extremities

hung drawn and quartered

by the sorcerer’s musk

 

I was a rain spattered poltergeist

a dislocated entity

swollen in a heat haze

of blood hungry flies

 

I was swerving into vertigo

oblivious to reasoning

vanishing at knife point

in a mirage made of lies

 

I jitterbugged in to jungle city

a shimmering delirium

of clustering geometries

splicing clouds into black light skies

 

Left to Right

 

Joe Chill: I gave him my BrickWarrios hobo hat which I think looks better than the hair he had, but I gave him Dastan's head which I do not like as much as Filch's head. The reasoning for the head is I want to make some of my Harry Potter figs back

 

Fig Formula- Brickwarriors hat, Dastan head, City torso, Ideas legs

 

Phantom Stranger: With my 3rd Batman bricktober pack, I decided to give the wizard batman cape and collar to Phantom Stranger. I also gave him Robin's head. Do not fear, I have 2 Lucius Malfoy torsos.

 

Fig Formula- Robin head, Wizard Batman collar/cape, Lucius torso

 

Zsasz: Decided to make this guy back. I will eventually get him a mutant leader torso

 

Fig Formula- StarWars head, TLBM torso and legs

 

Judge- Dylan's judge was phenomenal so I copied it

 

Fig Formula- CMF 9 wig, black figure parts

 

Tell me your thoughts

This is a REAL instance of ice and not the Trump ICE lockup for migrants and kids in Denver. A while back, I grabbed more Clover Basin ditch shots down at Willow Farm so I hauled my D700 back down even though the sky was blank blue. I therefore had no choice but to point the camera downward for captures and keep the sky from the shots. Just like today and tomorrow and tomorrow! I decided that I needed some better originals to edit! I liked this view as well as the other. I got few real duds in my "action" takes of the ditch but I do have several NORMAL shots of the ditch now (they call it Willow Brook) but I call it a ditch. It's not much of one either. Let's face it, most of the St. Vrain stream flows have been ripped by the city to water blue grass instead of agriculture.

 

I can't figure why anyone would cut a ditch this darn squirrely. When I first saw it, It was nearly impossible to follow the reasoning for this ditch but it does seem that the floods scoured this ditch somewhat. I think I noticed the colors of the reflections and contrasts and decided to take advantage. They seemed to over-saturate in this case but that's about everything posted on Flickr. The water course was a bit torn up but there must have been no serious flooding here.

 

We hit the end of autumn then and the chills came through but we hit the 60s then after Christmas - so no coat. I won't go down to shoot ice today - it hit the 67 degrees in early December. No Coats, no Clarks either. I've still got a lot of captures in the temp directory in this stretch of no skies. I found Willow Farm on Google maps when searching for a barn I glimpsed and made some trips down there and added some more weird captures to temp stash. This is a shot of Willow Creek, another ditch, IMHO. I went back down with my D70 to see if I could capture some shot of the barn. I may go out tomorrow if we can retrieve some skies and clouds at all. I am pulling for a good sky with the front tomorrow.

 

Here is a normal, if not fairly slow hand held exposure. I already posted other shots that were "action" shots and they were the better shots. I burned up the Christmas lights this season. I grabbed a couple of slices in Lightroom and dropped them into Photoshop to see what might appear.