View allAll Photos Tagged Rode
I picked up a Rode VideoMic Pro. I used my camera to record some nice HD video for work, but the built-in mic isn't that great. We used an expensive Sennheiser lavalier mic for our audio. I may get a lav mic someday, but the VideoMic Pro better matches my plans for making videos right now.
The VideoMic Pro sits on the hot shoe and a wire connects to the mic jack on the side of the camera body. The VideoMic Pro was smaller than I expected.
This is my EF 24-105mm f/4L lens. It is one of my heavier lenses and was not the best choice for my test. The video was fine, audio was very good, but my arms got tired. I will put my lighter EF-S 18-135mm lens on next time.
St Mary, Aythorpe Roding, Essex
A new entry on the Essex Churches site.
It was May 2014, the most beautiful spring of the century. I had taken my bike on the train from Ipswich to Bishops Stortford before heading off away from the hell of Stansted airport into the wilds of Essex. Now I veered eastwards from the forest, entering the emptiest and most remote area of the county. No villages for miles, just hamlets, fields and the occasional farmstead. The road to my next target would have meant a five mile ride, but I spotted a half-mile bridleway, of which there are lots in this part of Essex. It would cut three miles off the journey, so I took it. It was a farm track, deeply rutted, and it took me down the side of a barley field to copses in the distance, the hysterical yellow of acres of rapeseed in full flower beyond.
At first, it was just about cycleable, but then it wasn't, so I pushed my bike for about ten minutes or so. As I approached the country lane at the far end of it I thought there seemed something vaguely familiar about it, and then I realised what it was. Ah, I thought to myself, I'm entering East Anglia again. Now I was on hedged lanes through rolling fields of barley and rapeseed. Profound green, intense yellow. The road climbed, and over the rise I saw a spire. I headed down a track for half a mile or so and came to one of the most remote churches in all Essex.
It was locked, there was no keyholder notice. An inexpressibly lonely place. The church itself is a poor little thing, its wooden spire shot through with woodpecker holes. There were no notices of service in the porch, and so I expect it has fallen into disuse. Redundancy beckons, and perhaps it will be left to go quietly back to nature. It might just as well be left open, in which case it would at least serve some purpose to passing walkers, pilgrims and strangers.
And yet there was something very special about just standing in the churchyard, in the silence. It felt like nothing had happened here for a very long time. I looked down at the inscription on a memorial cross to Our Dear Son, Bertie George Emberson, who died at the Military Hospital, Caterham, Surrey, September 7th 1918 aged 19 years. How awful. And yet, I thought, the churchyard they stood in to watch him put into the earth has not changed. The one they knew is the one there now.
Simon Knott, April 2018
Abbess Roding, Essex
On the north wall of the nave ia a large tablet to the memory of Sir Gamaliel Capel, being figures of himself and his wife kneeling at a prayer desk. Below them also kneeling are the effigies of their nine children. Inscribed on it are the words "Here lleth Sir Gamaliel, knoght, son of Henry Capel Esq., and Lady Katherine, daughter of the Earl of Rutland. He marryed Jane one of the daughters of Weston Brown Esq., by whome he had six sonnes viz:-Gamaliel, knight, Thomas, Anthony, Henry, Theodosius and Francis, and three daughters - Mary, Anne and Mildred-Ob. A.D.1627 aet fuae 50".
"We bragge no vertures, and we begge no teares.
O, Header, if thou hast eyes and ears
It Is enough; but tell me why
Thou comst to gaze? Is It to pry
Into our cost? or borrowe
A copie of our sorrowe?
Or dost thou come
To learn to dye,
Not knowing whome
To practice by?
If this be thy desire.
Remove thee one step nigher,
Here lies a President; a rarer
Earth never showed, nor heaven a fayrer.
She was... but rooms denyes to tell the what.
Summe all perfections uppe, and she was that".
Sebutan raja tenda mungkin tidak terlalu berlebihan kepada CV TCMA pelopor tenda RODER atau tenda raksasa di Indonesia .
Pengalaman dan hasil kerja keras yang tidak pernah berhenti mendulang pengalaman di bidang tenda sudah sejak tahun 1975 .
Ahli tenda yang kami datangkan dari Malaysia German dan Taiwan , mewarisi ilmu pemasangan aneka tenda kami , mulai dari rangka , jahitan , klem , sling dan thermal yang hanya di miliki oleh CV TCMA .
Tenda dome , sarnafil , parasol , tent building , rodder , carnaval , circus , army , rig , water park , safari zoo Singapore dll .
CV TCMA Pelopor toko tenda Indonesia 1975 .
Address :
Jl Raya Pluit Selatan no 5
Jakarta Indonesia
Ph : 021 669 4524
Fx : 021 669 4834
Info : 0811 887 012
Email : info@terpal.com
Web : www.terpal.com
Web : www.viptenda.com
© István Pénzes.
Please NOTE and RESPECT the copyright.
8th Agust 2014, Komárom, Hungary, NAAF
Leica M9
Elmarit M 28mm ASPH.
Cj just got his new Rode Video Mic and so we went test filming with some of the skate crew near the US Bank. Ohhh and we also had a PRIMEproductions meeting and discussed about the cypher we're trying to hold at school. Can't wait to start filming that !
St Mary, Aythorpe Roding, Essex
It was May 2014, the most beautiful spring of the century. I had taken my bike on the train from Ipswich to Bishops Stortford before heading off away from the hell of Stansted airport into the wilds of Essex. Now I veered eastwards from the forest, entering the emptiest and most remote area of the county. No villages for miles, just hamlets, fields and the occasional farmstead. The road to my next target would have meant a five mile ride, but I spotted a half-mile bridleway, of which there are lots in this part of Essex. It would cut three miles off the journey, so I took it. It was a farm track, deeply rutted, and it took me down the side of a barley field to copses in the distance, the hysterical yellow of acres of rapeseed in full flower beyond.
At first, it was just about cycleable, but then it wasn't, so I pushed my bike for about ten minutes or so. As I approached the country lane at the far end of it I thought there seemed something vaguely familiar about it, and then I realised what it was. Ah, I thought to myself, I'm entering East Anglia again. Now I was on hedged lanes through rolling fields of barley and rapeseed. Profound green, intense yellow. The road climbed, and over the rise I saw a spire. I headed down a track for half a mile or so and came to one of the most remote churches in all Essex.
It was locked, there was no keyholder notice. An inexpressibly lonely place. The church itself is a poor little thing, its wooden spire shot through with woodpecker holes. There were no notices of service in the porch, and so I expect it has fallen into disuse. Redundancy beckons, and perhaps it will be left to go quietly back to nature. It might just as well be left open, in which case it would at least serve some purpose to passing walkers, pilgrims and strangers.
And yet there was something very special about just standing in the churchyard, in the silence. It felt like nothing had happened here for a very long time. I looked down at the inscription on a memorial cross to Our Dear Son, Bertie George Emberson, who died at the Military Hospital, Caterham, Surrey, September 7th 1918 aged 19 years. How awful. And yet, I thought, the churchyard they stood in to watch him put into the earth has not changed. The one they knew is the one there now.
Simon Knott, April 2018
All Saints, High Roding, Essex
A mile distant from its village, at the end of a long lane with only a farm for company. The church was locked with a keyholder notice, two keyholders. A medium sized late medieval church with no tower. The churchyard was bowling-green smooth. There didn't seem much of interest through the largely clear windows. A large graveyard, though, for the village it serves is the largest in the area, so plenty of people sleeping the sleep of the just in the churchyard. Oddly, several of the graves have 1930s ceramic floral displays under glass domes - strange to think of them sitting here for 80 years. I cycled on, up through the village. I hadn't realised how high I was, but as I turned back towards the forest I descended steeply for several miles to the very pretty village of Great Canfield with its church.
Moskou
Het Rode Plein - St.Basil's Cathedral
Voor meer foto's van Moskou ..... zie set Moskou, juni 2011
Kasteel van Horst
Het kasteel van Horst is een kasteel in Sint-Pieters-Rode (deelgemeente van Holsbeek in Vlaanderen). Het kasteel is goed bewaard en heeft nog de traditionele slotgracht. Het kasteel bezit een zeer grote vijver annex slotgracht. Buiten de slotgracht is er ook een koetshuis, dat in de jaren 90 van de 20e eeuw werd gerestaureerd en verbouwd tot taverne. Herita vzw beheert het kasteel en zorgt voor de restauratie en ontsluiting. Prominent aanwezig in het gebouw is het stucwerk van de 17e-eeuwse kunstenaar Jan Hansche. Het kasteeldomein is Europees beschermd als onderdeel van Natura 2000-gebied 'Valleien van de Winge en de Motte met valleihellingen'
De oudste bekende heren van Horst zijn Jan van Horst en zijn zoon Arnold (13e eeuw). Jan van Horst behoort samen met zijn zonen Arnold en Adam van Landwijk tot de familie Van Thunen. Later, toen ze zich definitief in Horst vestigden, ging de familie zich 'van Horst' noemen.
In 1369 werd de heerlijkheid Horst verkocht aan Amelric Boote. Toen Amelric in 1405 overleed, erfde zijn dochter Elisabeth de heerlijkheid en verkocht het aan haar neef Amelric Pynnock. Pynnock bouwde de versterkte hoeve om tot een waterburcht. Tijdens de opstand van 1488-1489 tegen Maximiliaan van Oostenrijk werd het kasteel verwoest. De toenmalige eigenaar, Lodewijk III Pynnock, bouwde het kasteel weer op met een lening van Maximiliaan van Oostenrijk maar raakte toch in financiële moeilijkheden. Daarom moest hij in augustus 1500 Horst afstaan aan Ivan van Cortenbach.
Aan het eind van de 15e eeuw werden ook de vierkante donjon, de aula en de camera gebouwd, die nu nog altijd bestaan. Onder Franchoys van Busleyden (1545-1555) werden de grote kruisramen aan de grachtkant aangebracht waardoor het kasteel zijn versterkt karakter kwijtraakte. In 1587 werd Horst verwoest door de geuzen. Het bos, kort bij het kasteel (de huidige Horststraat) werd toen de ketterije genoemd. In de 17e eeuw werden de twee westelijke vleugels met dienstvertrekken beneden en pronkzalen boven bijgebouwd door Olivier van Schoonhoven. In die tijd werd ook de kapel toegevoegd. Maria-Anne van den Tympel, de laatste kasteelvrouwe, liet in 1655 de stucplafonds in de grote zalen van de westelijke vleugel aanbrengen.
Er worden elk jaar Kasteelfeesten gehouden, waarbij er ridderspelen in scène worden gezet. In oktober 2007 verkocht gravin de Hemricourt de Grunne het kasteeldomein samen met de 113 hectare grond eromheen aan het Vlaams Gewest. Er was geen geld meer om de erfpacht te verlengen.
Located in the Winge valley to the east of Leuven, Horst Castle has remained largely untouched since the middle of the 17th century.
To get the most out of a visit to Horst Castle, you should know what not to expect. There are no works of art hanging from the walls; no ancient tapestries in the bedrooms. The living rooms are empty of tables and chairs; the kitchen devoid of pots and pans. In fact, Horst Castle is empty and unlived in, and has been for over three hundred years. And that’s precisely why it’s worth visiting.
Horst Castle is special because it’s authentic. Most of the castles in Flanders were renovated or rebuilt in the eighteenth or nineteenth centuries, but at Horst nothing happened; everything stood still after 1658.
The castle was built in the mid 14th century by Amelric Boote, described in local records as a wealthy money-changer. By 1482 it had come into the hands of Lodewijk Pynnock, Bailiff of Leuven. Being bailiff has always been an unpopular profession, and residents of Leuven expressed their displeasure at Pynnock by burning down part of the castle. However, he rebuilt it and re-started his feasts and tournaments – until his money ran out in 1500 when he was forced to sell the castle.
In 1650 a remarkable woman came on the scene, when widow Maria-Anna van den Tympel inherited the estate. She fell in love with Horst, and carried out major work on the property. A deeply religious woman, she built a new chapel. Three living rooms were decorated with superb stuccos. A servants’ wing was added. Outside the main gate, a coach house was constructed. This was a particularly forward-thinking decision as the horse-drawn carriage had not yet become a common mode of transport. However, the coach house never realised its full potential; the lady of the castle died in 1658 and Horst has been uninhabited ever since.
So what can you expect to see at Horst Castle? Entering the courtyard across the wooden bridge you can see the original medieval perimeter wall and the slot where the portcullis would have been. From the courtyard you get a good view of the traditional Brabantine brick and sandstone wall with stepped gables and cruciform windows. Note the difference between the plain servants’ windows and the ornate windows of the floors above.
The biggest room is the Ovid Hall, where feasts were held and dances organised, with its haut-relief stucco work on the ceiling, including six scenes from the Metamorphoses by Ovid, the impressive work of Jan-Christian Hansche.
The walls of the 600-year-old keep certainly have some stories to tell. The first floor is the reception area where visitors were received. The entrance door dates back to 1422. Today’s visitors can examine the cramped privy and tiny washbasin. The faded pictures and emblems on the walls can still be seen – red, blue and gold, reflecting the wealth of the owners.
The narrow stairs take you up to the living quarters and the bedroom. Occupants would have slept sitting on the wide window ledges (lying down was for the dead). Higher up would have been the barracks and finally the battlements with their crenellations and throwing holes. From here you get a good view of the lake in which the castle stands. Maria-Anna van den Tympel would have had a different view. The lake was dug in the early 20th century and stocked with fish, although the castle always had a moat.