View allAll Photos Tagged Respect
The Mahajah Arch, also known as Jabal Mahjah, is a remote sandstone formation in the Tabuk region of Saudi Arabia. Wind and rain have sculpted magnificent arches rising nearly 40 meters high, while ancient carvings of camels, horses, and geometric patterns mark the lower rocks — silent traces of those who once passed through this desert. It is a dream destination for photographers.
It was early afternoon when we set out toward the Arch. Even with three SUVs, the journey across the desert proved far more challenging than we had expected. On the way, two of our three vehicles became stuck in the deep sand. We tried everything — digging, pushing, adjusting the tires — but every attempt only caused the cars to sink deeper. Endless desert surrounded us. No signal. No help in sight. As the sun began to lower, desperation quietly crept in.
Then, as if sent by fate, a group of local Saudi people appeared. They were driving back after visiting the Mahajah Arch themselves. The moment they saw our situation, they stopped and immediately began helping us. They worked tirelessly, digging and pushing alongside us. But the sand had swallowed our vehicles too deeply, and their first attempts were unsuccessful.
While working, they learned that we were photographers hoping to capture the Arch before sunset. Without a second thought, three members of their group offered to drive us to the Arch so we could catch the last golden light, while the others stayed behind to continue rescuing our cars. Their generosity left us speechless and deeply moved.
As the sun dipped toward the horizon, we finally stood before the magnificent Arch, capturing the images we had dreamed of — knowing that strangers were working in the sand for us.
After sunset, once our cars were finally freed, the group escorted us all the way to the highway intersection to ensure we were safely on our way home. It was already 10 p.m. Before parting, four members of their group began dancing and singing in the desert night, filling the air with joy and laughter. Under the vast sky, surrounded by sand and stars, their happiness was contagious.
We struggled to hold back tears, unable to find words strong enough to express our gratitude and respect. What began as a moment of fear and helplessness became a powerful reminder of human kindness.
It was more than a photography trip. It was an unforgettable experience at the Mahajah Arch — one that we will carry in our hearts forever.
wishing them a Happy Day, much Love, Tenderness, Respect and Gratitude.
Missing you, maman. So much gratefulness for you !
Please view more of my photography at the following websites. Totally, I have 25+ million views; 4,000+ followers/subscribers and 15,000+ views daily
*Flickr: www.flickr.com/people/viv_vivekananda/
*Fluidrive www.fluidr.com/photos/viv_vivekananda
*YouTube: www.youtube.com/channel/UCt5wf3DvvWAqgUd9NMUItVw
*500px: 500px.com/p/svive1?view=photos
*Facebook: www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61560235015998
*Instagram www.instagram.com/viv_vivekananda/
You may purchase my images at:
*Shootproof: vivvivekanandaphotography.shootproof.com/
*Getty Images: www.gettyimages.com.au/search/2/image?family=creative&...
The common ostrich (Struthio camelus) or simply ostrich, is a species of large flightless bird native to certain large areas of Africa. It is one of two extant species of ostriches, the only living members of the genus Struthio in the ratite order of birds. The other is the Somali ostrich (Struthio molybdophanes), which was recognized as a distinct species by BirdLife International in 2014 having been previously considered a very distinctive subspecies of ostrich. The common ostrich belongs to the order Struthioniformes. Struthioniformes previously contained all the ratites, such as the kiwis, emus, rheas, and cassowaries. However, recent genetic analysis has found that the group is not monophyletic, as it is paraphyletic with respect to the tinamous, so the ostriches are now classified as the only members of the order. Phylogenetic studies have shown that it is the sister group to all other members of Palaeognathae and thus the flighted tinamous are the sister group to the extinct moa. It is distinctive in its appearance, with a long neck and legs, and can run for a long time at a speed of 55 km/h (34 mph) with short bursts up to about 70 km/h (43 mph), the fastest land speed of any bird. The common ostrich is the largest living species of bird and lays the largest eggs of any living bird (the extinct elephant birds of Madagascar and the giant moa of New Zealand laid larger eggs). The common ostrich's diet consists mainly of plant matter, though it also eats invertebrates and small reptiles. It lives in nomadic groups of 5 to 50 birds. When threatened, the ostrich will either hide itself by lying flat against the ground, or run away. If cornered, it can attack with a kick of its powerful legs. Mating patterns differ by geographical region, but territorial males fight for a harem of two to seven females. The common ostrich is farmed around the world, particularly for its feathers, which are decorative and are also used as feather dusters. Its skin is used for leather products and its meat is marketed commercially, with its leanness a common marketing point. R_21455
I promised you tulips a while back, so here are a few more. I planted these in a barrel in my Tahoe City garden and worried about them all winter because of the warm temperatures and low precipitation. Here they are standing at attention waiting for the morning sun to reach them.
Hope you have a good day whenever you see this. Thanks, as always, for stopping by and for all of your kind comments -- I appreciate them all.
© Melissa Post 2015
All rights reserved. Please respect my copyright and do not copy, modify or download this image to blogs or other websites without obtaining my explicit written permission.
May we all live together in perfect Harmony - Paul McCartney
Thank-you so much for your overwhelming support. Always enjoy your visits and comments
Happy Clicks,
~Christie (happiest) by the River
I'm not sure if anyone noticed, but things have been a little "different" lately, right? Even my friends on the street have noticed.
Not all of them get minute by minute news updates like many people do. Nor do all of them understand the extent of what is happening. But it is affecting their lives too. There used to be plenty of traffic for Hillbilly to panhandle in. Now some mornings the neighborhood is like a ghost town. Many of the friendly businesses, pallet yards, recycling places, etc... are closed. No segment of the population seems to be unaffected.
But as I drop food, clothes, etc... off in the mornings (or tonight for Levita, Vera, and Squirrel), there is a level of respect. A hug or handshake has been replaced with a virtual elbow bump. Food gets handed out and I distance myself, and they understand my concerns. Nobody gets offended when I say "Sorry, I can't take ANY chances."
I'm not sure if they observe these new social rules amongst themselves, but I appreciate the fact that understand me.
Just recently, a day hiker lost his footing above Sol Duc Falls and tumbled over two spillways. He is extremely lucky to have survived. As you can see in my photograph the water is a torrent of action as it cuts through this narrow passageway.
Story is here; www.peninsuladailynews.com/article/20160522/NEWS/305229981
Note to hikers......respect these places!
En tout respect de la nature, l'oiseau n'a pas été appâté, il a chassé naturellement sa proie dans le boisé. / With all due respect for nature, the bird was not baited. It naturally hunted its prey in the woods.
Another of Stormie Mills's early works in an adjacent laneway. Nice to see it hasn't been desicrated after so many years. stormiemills.com/
Les Pyrénées, traversées cette semaine par le Tour de France. Les astronautes et les cyclistes ont un certain nombre de choses en commun, comme le fait que nos rations alimentaires soient mesurées à la calorie près. On est aussi auscultés sous toutes les coutures, avec de temps en temps un est d’effort maximal sur le vélo (ergometer). Le principe est simple : on vous branche des électrodes partout, et vous respirez dans un appareil qui mesure précisément la quantité d’oxygène… et c’est parti : de plus en plus de résistance sur les pédales, jusqu’à ce qu'on ne soit plus capable de continuer… bien sûr, on en fait une compétition, vous vous attendiez à quoi ? :) Une différence notable en revanche : les cyclistes du #tourdefrance doivent garder les mains sur le guidon alors que notre vélo spatial, lui, n'en a pas !
The Pyrenees where the Tour de France spent the week. Astronauts and cyclists have quite a few things in common, when on a mission or in a race we eat and monitor our food intake down to the calorie, and we bike almost every day. Two things I don't share with the professional cyclists: we cannot comply with the new UCI rules that require cyclists keep their hands on the handlebars – because there are no handlebars on our bicycle – and even though we are flying at 400 km altitude, there is no way I am cycling up the Tourmalet without more practice. Much respect, Paris is not so far anymore!
Credits: ESA/NASA–T. Pesquet
439B8952
Background from the internet - Canada day poster for 2015, I think.
"(CNN) According to the Reputation Institute, it is the "most admired" nation on earth." I know I'm a fan!
© István Pénzes.
Please NOTE and RESPECT the copyright.
26th December 2016
Hasselblad 503CW
Carl Zeiss Planar 2,8/80mm
Hasselblad CFV-50c
*
*
*All my pictures are ©All rights reserved Neya and you have no rights to use/copy them in any media/context without my written permission. Respect.
Hurray !
No overtime for the first time in three weeks !
ws and I went for a stroll in Central Park and paid respect at the Imagine mosaic.
The white shirt project.
Here the story so far ...
A lion enjoying shade from the midday sun at the back of my stationary jeep. @ Ngorogoro Crater in Tanzania.
Subway signage set up at Franklin St. to honor the memory of Aretha Franklin.
I noticed it by accident, but it's apparently part of an official campaign.
I tried the Franklin Ave. stop on the 2/3 line, but nothing there. I missed the signage at the Franklin Ave, stop on the A/C lines.
complicité dans une ruelle de Camon
complicity in an alley in Camon
Dont' use this image on websites, blogs or other média whithout my explicit written permission.Please respect the work of the photographer and the copyright,all rights réserved.
Well I climbed my first 14er and I have a new found respect for anyone who has done this. What an experience!
Mt. Sherman located is in the Tenmile-Mosquito mountain range, 10 miles west of Fairplay, at 14,036 feet. This 14er is, what I found out later, one of the easiest in Colorado, ranked 45 out of 53. If this is easy I need to get in a lot better shape.
How to explain; jump on a Stairmaster for 3 hours take a 30 minute break then jump on it again just backwards and repeat. Talk about a mental and physical challenge. Between you and me, in my head I gave up about 14 times but somehow I kept going. The last time I was close to the top about a half mile and a few hundred feet in elevation to go, legs on fire, body hated me and I was struggling to motivate myself to go any further. When a 7 year old kid passed me, that was all I needed, I knew at that moment I was going to make it. I’m glad I did, nothing like the feeling of writing your name in the book and what a view!
Can you believe this is fun and we’re planning another one next week?
Explore more of my photography
I share a curated selection of my work on
Fine‑Art Prints & Wall Art
My photographs are available as museum‑quality prints, large wall art and premium finishes:
• EU Webstore – Fine‑Art & Large Format Prints
• US Webstore – Gallery & Museum‑Grade Prints
Worldwide shipping options available
Portfolio & Projects
For curated collections, stories and new releases:
Features & Recognition
A selection of interviews, publications and international photography awards can be found here:
Community Note
With respect: no award threads, comment‑for‑comment groups or self‑promotion signatures.
Netherlands American Cemetery and Memorial.
De Amerikaanse Begraafplaats Margraten, in het Engels: Netherlands American Cemetery and Memorial, is een Amerikaanse militaire begraafplaats en monument ter nagedachtenis aan de overleden Amerikaanse soldaten ten tijde van de strijd in Zuid-Limburg, het Ardennenoffensief en in het Roergebied, gedurende de Tweede Wereldoorlog. De begraafplaats is gelegen tussen de plaatsen Margraten en Cadier en Keer, aan de N278.
The second Canadian railroad to pay respect to the upcoming 250th anniversary of America cools its heels behind 640, all the while waiting on Amtrak in each direction. I am in no way criticizing the attempt here, but why does the red look off?
This is a creative commons image, which you may freely use by linking to this page. Please respect the photographer and his work.
[4 images in this series] Langworthy Farm, built 1875, near Westerly, Rhode Island, is a fine example of domestic Second Empire style, the mansard roof with the additional top floor contributing to the sense of mass and size. The house is essentially a large 2-story front section with a 1-story wing symmetrically positioned as the rear part of the house. The roof, which can't be viewed as a conventional roof, is of asphalt and uses a fish-scale pattern of shingling. Four interior chimneys and a widow's walk of ornamental woodwork with 4 finials top the dwelling. The expected dormer windows accent the roof with their top arched panes; the windows have elaborate surrounds with elaborate woodwork at the bottom sides. Brackets in the cornice appear to alternate from small to large. The side facades of the front portion of the house have five 2/2 windows with window hoods and green shutters and a 4-sided bay window with 1/1 narrow panes. The bay windows with bracketing at the roof are positioned differently on each side. The rear wing dispenses with window hoods. The entrance is by means of a front porch; the wing has a porch on either side, but they are not identical. The front facade shows 3 dormer windows. Below those on the second floor are 3 windows positioned below the dormers--one pair of very narrow 1/1 panes flanked by wider windows with 2/2; the second floor windows are hooded. The porch extends the width of the house with four slender square posts supporting the roof. The post brackets display ornamental scrollwork. The porch railing consists of turned balusters, and is entered by four wood steps to the entry--a single wooden door with arched transom with a sun-burst design and with sidelights of 4 panes with a vertical orientation.
The house has 15 rooms with 7,400 square feet. It currently functions as a bread & breakfast. It's assessed value is close to $2,000,000. This was a farmhouse when built, although it's difficult to envision this in that usage. The house occupies the site of a former home of Samuel Ward, governor of Rhode Island twice and a founder and trustee of Brown University. [More info at en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samuel_Ward_(American_statesman)]. I have a more than normal interest in this building--I'm descended from the Langworthy family of the Westerly area
The four images are as follows:
1) front facade
2) side facade to the left on front entrance
3) side facade to the right of front entrance with rear wing
4) detailed view of roof and dormer windows on wing
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License
August 18, 2022 - Gibbon Nebraska US
Prints Available...Click Here
All Images are also available for...
stock photography & non exclusive licensing...
Storm Chasing Video from afternoon on Flickr Click Here
Late August here in Nebraska. I usually would be chasing out in Western Nebraska Eastern Colorado this time of year. Mother Nature made it dry as a desert here. Record Heat & drought in 2022 on the plains of Nebraska. This was the ONLY storm that came into range for the whole month.
Gear was prepped & ready for a month....I was prepared that afternoon. A short jaunt to my east and then north. Irrigated Corn this time of year here is about 14 feet & it will be ready for harvest soon.
Had to find a good location where there was no tall corn. Found a hill with a perfect view. Lucky to find an open view with all that corn!
Though this didn't produce a tornado. Really good definition of a rotation wall cloud under this supercell. Glad I went out that day to capture these phenomenal snaps!
*** Please NOTE and RESPECT the Copyright ***
Copyright 2022
Dale Kaminski @ NebraskaSC Photography
All Rights Reserved
This image may not be copied, reproduced, published or distributed in any medium without the expressed written permission of the copyright holder.
#ForeverChasing
#NebraskaSC
i bought a 200 acre farmstead in southern virgina several years back.the property had been basically abandoned for 20 years and the
locals had grown very accustomed to regarding it as their own hunting
ground. we bought the property in oct/nov'ish, which is the begining
of deer hunting season in those parts (the creep of southernism
in my speech will become readily apparent, bear with). so the first
several weekends, i would take my father up there to make a clearing
to put up a storage shed and build up my smithy forge. we put up no
trespassing signs and chains across the road, but they would be torn
down and cut when we arrived. it was clear we werent going to be
entirely welcome. .
One weekend my dad stopped at a pawn shop on the drive up, saying he
wanted to look at something. 10 minutes later he came out with 2
Chinese semi-auto assault rifles and 1000 rounds of high velocity
ammo.
'Ummm....' i said, 'not a good idea'
"We have to be prepared. Things might get hairy."
"Sure, but you know how to fire one of those?"
"pretty sure"
"nice....just put em in the trunk and forget about them dad.'
so when we arrive the signs are down and the chains cut and dad is
freaking out that the locals arent showing us respect. i sigh, roll
eyes, and start a fire to make some coffee. now in virginia they use
dogs to hunt. the deer are flushed out into open fields by baying
hounds and beagles where the lazy hunters sits on his truck or ATV and
pops off shots at them. as we start drinking coffee, a pack of dogs
tears thru our campsite and we see a deer pull out of a grove about
100 feet to our left and tear across 40 feet ahead of us into a broom
straw pasture. shotguns erupted from an opposing treeline about 100
feet to our right. 8,9, maybe 10 shots fired, tangentially in front of us. dad runs back to the car, pulls an assault rifle from the
trunk, loads up a 50 round clip, and marches past me towards the
treeline of hunters.
'whoa! what the fuck do you think you are doing?!'
'im gonna teach those bastards some respect!!'
'put the gun down, dad. you arent going anywhere with that.
just settle down.'
'just relax son, i'll take care of this, i'm not afraid.'
'hahaha, im certainly not afraid of them either. but...they know we
are here. they are just trying to rattle us - and apparently it worked
on you. now look, this is the big picture here. there are probably 4
or 5 locals in that treeline, they can probably see you right now,
they have probably been hunting here since they were children, they
know this land, they know the local sheriff, they dont know you. you
go charging in there and they might even drop you and not a word would
be said about it. you were in the army like 30 years ago, you read
soldier of fortune magazine on the toilet - this doth not a commando
maketh. just settle down, gimme the rifle and go load up the
other one.'
reluctantly he gave me the gun. i took it over behind a huge 4 foot
diameter fallen oak out of the sight line of the hunters, left it
there, and returned to my coffee. ten minutes later, another deer
flushed out and another volley erupted from the treeline. dad gave me
a withering look of contempt as if he was digusted for siring such a
spineless son. i smirked back and said 'breathe....its ok. trust me.'
i went over to the oak and the rifle, put down my coffee, and squeezed
off all 50 rounds in rapid fire. CRACK CRACK CRACK... an assault rifle
is a loud impressive beast, i must admit. a minute later we heard a
jeep and an atv drive off from the treeline. i went back to the fire,
finished my coffee and asked dad to get the other rifle and go get
down by the oak.
'what?'
'trust me...serious. you have about 2 minutes.'
as he got the gun and walked over to the tree, we saw a convoy of 6
trucks and jeeps and atvs barrelling down our drive road (about a mile
long).
'dad, please just stay put behind that tree, dont let them see where
you are, unless, obviously things get 'hairy', then call the cops on
your cell and handle things. but remember even if you shoot in
self-defense, you are going to jail, and its their jail."
"what the hell? what are you going to do??'
'no big, we are going to have a little chat. no worries'
a minute later, the six vehicles pull up around in a semi circle and
like 15 hunters get out, some with their shotguns, others without, but
certainly packing a pistol or something. this huge older thick headed
lout with a stereotypical chunck of chewing 'bacca in his lip and a
grimy blaze orange padded jacket was standing in front, looked around
at our campsite and snorted with complete contempt.
'boy, who the fuck is shooting machine guns around here?!' he says
walking over at me.
i just sat there on a log drinking my coffee looking at him.
'you deef boy? we was up yonder (swear to god they use 'yonder', go
figure!) and some dumbfucker starting shooting automatic machine guns
at us. waddat you?'
i lit a cigarette and just stared at him for another 10 seconds or so.
(honestly i couldnt tell if i was in way over my head, but i
knew if we showed weakness the whole adventure of living up there
would become some fuct hatfield-mccoy OK corral deliverance hillbilly
nightmare)
'this is my land now - and that is my gun. and dont call me boy.'
'now look here, we are out here hunting and you are gonna hit somebody
shooting like that. so you need to settle down...boooooyyyy. we'been
hunting here for over 20 years and the season just started. we'll tell
y'all when you its safe for you to come back here and play or whatever
the hell you california boys do back here (the realtor must have
filled the locals in on our situation).
cigarette drag. stare.
'you got me, boy?'
'no, boyyyy. here is the deal. this is my land now - and you are
fucking trespassing. i fired those shots, not at your boys, but into
the ground, because i know there is nothing a hunter hates more than
to think there is an asshole out there in the trees with an assault
rifle. i knew it would get your attention. now i am going to live
here. i am clearing off this land to build a home and eventually build
a business. i am gonna raise a family here. i believe in good
neighbors. i am gonna be a good neighbors. but y'all have started this
out ugly by vandalizing my signs, cutting my chains, trespassing to
hunt, which can land your ass in state prison for a couple months. so
short of you making some jack ass move and trying to shoot me right
here which i can tell you would be a very bad ideat, we can sit down
and work out some sort arrangement that will make us good neighbors.
so what do you want? you want to fight or figure it out?'
(snort) 'youre fucking crazy!'
'no. just very determined to makes sure everybody walks outta here and
that this little bullshit harrasment stops today. so what do you
want?'
'check this california boy out. who does he think he is'
'look, i already called the game warden this morning before i came up
here. real nice guy (one mongoloid in the back guffawed and said 'he's
a fucker.) he was very obliging and told me all about your state
hunting laws and the serious penalties for trespassing and he even
mentioned that he might be stopping by today to say hello. and last
week i spoke with the county magistrate (DA to them), also a real nice
guy, looks like we are going to be going to the same church (i had
stopped in at the beautiful 200 year old episcopal church on a
previous trip to meet the rector and meet some of the folks - never
especially religious, but i knew enough of small towns to know that
the church is where you socialize and get your social ranking), happy
to see some new faces coming to the county. he told me all about the
history of this part of the county and this property. in fact, he said
if i had any problems to give him a call and he'd give me a hand. so
you and your boys aint got much to stand on right now. you keep up
this hunting and the game warden is gonna revoke your licenses at best
and toss you in jail at the worst, especially if your poachin' was
done in a coercive threating manner, and im sure the magistrate
wouldnt mind a bit drawing up the cases."
'ha, the sheriff is my brother in law,' the lout says.
'cool, roll the dice, see what your brother in law will do for you. or
you put your guns back in your trucks and lets work this out.'
'what'chu got in mind?'
'ok, i accept that y'all have been hunting here since sheriff shappard
died because there was no one to say no, and we all know there isnt
another plot of property with an open 100 acres of clear shooting this
far back off the road for 20 or so miles. so i dont feel right just
telling you boys that you cant hunt here anymore. so you can hunt
here.'
'well thats good, glad youre talking some sense.'
'so you can hunt here for the rest of the season...but next season you
can only hunt the front half of the property and the following year
only the front quarter of the land. you get three more years you can
hunt here, after those three years i should have a home built here and
we can discuss if any of you wants to buy permission to hunt that
front quarter. three years free is a good deal.'
'not really...'
'its better than the alternative. but here's your catch. only you and
your hunt club are allowed to hunt here. no one else. understand?'
'thats not much of a catch, why would we want to share it?'
'the catch is that you are responsible for making sure no one hunts
here, no one vandalizes my gear that i store here, no one messes with
my signs. if anybody hunts and vandalizes this property, then all bets
are off and you can go ask the hunt club down 'yonder!' if you can
hunt with them - i'm sure they wouldnt mind .
long story short, they agreed, we agreed. no more problems with
vandals and such. in fact, they actually called the sheriff on some
boys from another county who had come over during the week to hunt.
and they made sure we knew they had done so. after two years a 300
acre property a mile or so down the road was bought by a timberer and
clear cut. after the trees and shrub growth starting coming back after
a year it was perfect for deer hunting and the timberer had no
objections to the locals hunting there, so it wasnt a problem not
hunting at our place. it was never warm and fuzzy with the locals up
there, but they did respect our property. we never had anymore problems with
them.
damn, i hadnt thought about that story for years now.
Sadly (unless we own a tortoise or parrot) our pets will usually die before we do. But (on average) the trees that we plant will live many times longer than any humans ever could. That's always a comforting thought and a great reason to plant a tree! :)
If we compared the oldest confirmed human (Jeanne Calment, who lived in France for 122 years and 164 days (from 1875–1997)) with the age of the oldest verified tree alive today (a Bristlecone Pine growing in California’s White Mountains known as “Methuselah” (estimated to be at least 4,800 years old)), then that oldest tree is at least 39 times older than the oldest human!!! And yet somehow, we humans still think that we are superior to trees?
This tree in the Kruger National Park was already growing here long before my great-great-grandparents were born, and it will still be thriving long after I'm gone. All I can say is... Respect!
Have a lekker weekend everyone!
Et chacun de laisser sa petite crotte existentielle sur le moindre espace vierge. Ici c'est un bâtiment destiné à la démolition, mais beaucoup d'autres tags fleurissent sur des bâtiments récemment rénovés ; car là bas aussi on leur doit le "respect" !
www.flickr.com/photos/188371350@N03/albums/72177720334658...
Respect the copyright! Every use only with the permission of HOSPICES CIVILS DE BEAUNE Institut de Formation en Soins Infirmiers Avenue Guigone de Salins BP 40104
21203 BEAUNE Cédex