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Virginia Rail
Rallus limicola
Maple Dam Road/Shorter's Wharf, Dorchester County, MD
Blackwater River Quad
38076_D1
This waterfall located in a canyon in the Zion National Park wilderness is normally a trickle most of the year but with the recent moisture and spring run off it became spectacular.
This image is copyrighted. Please do not use this image in any manner without my permission!
Allen Mill Run flows about a mile from Allen Mill Pond Spring to the Suwannee River. It makes up the highlight of the northern track of Lafayette Blue Springs State Park, an area rather sparsely visited compared to the head spring area to the south.
I reached a stage in my life that I see that the only thing I've done so far has been run away, run away from myself, my anything, and now I have nowhere to go, I do not know what I'll do, I was very bad at all.
Charles Bukowski
The beautiful Giada in a dynamic pose amidst an incredible green wheat field.
She can look stunning even "not posing"!
See it in the Model Republic Elite group.
Nikon Z7 + Nikkor 85mm f/1.4G @ 1/800 s f/1.8 200 ISO
H16 gets the approach limited from the dispatcher to run around the train and head back to Gang Mills.
Almost forty years ago, yours truly climbed a signal at Laurel Run, Pennsylvania to check a possible photo angle, and my cousin, Bob Markle, recorded the deed. Where did that 21-year-old go?
Trail running in october at Stelvio Pass.
Canon 6d & Sigma 35mm f/1.4 Art.
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Please,don't use this image on websites, blogs or other media.
Although, I'm not too far from home maybe I should get a move on and run!!
Stay Safe and Healthy Everyone!
Thanks to everyone who views this photo, adds a note, leaves a comment and of course BIG thanks to anyone who chooses to favourite my photo .... Thanks to you all!
The Library of Congress
I claim no rights other than colorizing this image if you wish to use let me know and always give due credit to The Library of Congress I have no commercial gain in publishing this image.
Title
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Hanging out (I wonder if he ever knew)
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Contributor Names
Shahn, Ben, 1898-1969, photographer
United States. Resettlement Administration.
Created / Published
1935 Oct.
Subject Headings
- United States--West Virginia--Scotts Run
- Pursglove--West Virginia
Format Headings
Nitrate negatives.
Genre
Nitrate negatives
Notes
- Title and other information from caption card.
- Transfer; United States. Office of War Information. Overseas Picture Division. Washington Division; 1944.
- More information about the FSA/OWI Collection is available at hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/pp.fsaowi
Medium
1 negative : nitrate ; 35 mm.
Call Number/Physical Location
LC-USF33- 006116-M5 [P&P] LOT 1721 (corresponding photographic print)
Source Collection
Farm Security Administration - Office of War Information Photograph Collection (Library of Congress)
Repository
Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division Washington, DC 20540 USA hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/pp.print
Digital Id
fsa 8a16587 //hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/fsa.8a16587
Library of Congress Control Number
2017730357
Reproduction Number
LC-USF3301-006116-M5 (b&w film dup. neg.) LC-DIG-fsa-8a16587 (digital file from original neg.)
Rights Advisory
No known restrictions. For information, see U.S. Farm Security Administration/Office of War Information Black & White Photographs www.loc.gov/rr/print/res/071_fsab.html
Language
English
Online Format
image
Description
1 negative : nitrate ; 35 mm..
Callejeando: Street photos
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RUN FOREST RUN.
Brooklyn Bridge Park | NYC | 2022
©2023RubyFernandez-Brown
Instagram: @RubyPhotografia
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For a 13 year old boy, Pokey still has the moves. Several months ago the vet said to me "If my dog's back looked like Pokey's does on x-ray, I'd never let him run" 1) that's a lot easier said than done. 2) Pokey's main joy in life is running and my main joy in life is seeing him so happy.
*edited*
I have finally chosen my 3 favourite pieces of writing in the comments/messages by none other than YOU guys (each of you favourites are getting an 8x12 print of this photo)! Thank you so much to everyone who joined in this collaboration, I was so happy to see your creative minds inspired by this photo, and I am super inspired in return by reading your writing. :) It was difficult to choose just three, but in no particular order, here they are:
By Moishe Groger:
"The mountains are calling, my love.
Are you willing to lift your head? Are you willing to be so daring, to breathe, to laugh and live anew?
The mountains are calling, my love.
YOU are a mountain, sweet one. Together we sit, beautiful, strong and alive. Together we feel the rivers breathing down our sides, springs of hidden joy welling up from within.
The mountains are calling, my love. Will you say yes? Will you run with me?"
By Charbel Kamal:
"The bitumen was unusually warm. The unfamiliar warmth soaking gently through the nakedness of her feet found its way through her body, up until, her young blue gaze reached the ancient blue clouds. And then it was gone, yet again.
She stood there quietly, trying to feel present. But presence was not enough, the violent rhythm of her diaphragm, the crude contractions of her heart, and the pounding pressure of her blood racing under her skin were all dancing, asking for more. The rain-dance of her body.
Tripping into a run, almost falling, she could feel the gravity pulling her forward, downward and forward. She would break away, the wind would catch her, getting rid of the unforgiving reigns of the planet, but then, another step.
And there, during these mere seconds, in between two steps, she would feel suspended and brimming with life."
By Sam Marie:
"I was a mountain girl; my body was tall. I grew up in the grasslands, stretching towards the sky and reaching for my dreams. I made wishes on weeds and cut paper wings to fly to the sky. We built houses from broken tree trunks and fallen leaves, our hands working together to fix what had long been destroyed. Our aspirations flew away with the wind, changing at the speed of the moving sun. My sisters wanted to be princesses, ballerinas, astronauts, teachers. I wanted to be the queen of the forest, air that danced with the wind, a bird with unwavering wings, soil that understood the mysteries of the world. We grew taller, and their dreams peeled away with aging skin and the appliance of pink blush. I refused to let go of my fairytale days and my mind did not grow as my legs did. My soul stayed too young, leaving my mind free to dream but not free enough, for the truly free are wise enough to understand that nobody can be young forever.
I was a mountain girl; my heart was made of stone. My blood ran red but I did not bleed. As a child, I slipped in the grasslands and shattered my bones. My face stayed dry. I wanted to be a rock, thrown about without a whimper of pain. I fought with my brothers and brushed off purple bruises and scraped knees. With age, I learned that a lion's roar hurt more than its bite, and I wished to be a lion too, running without a care. I did not let my brothers push me about. I pointed my nose to the sky and attacked with words I found too witty. I became brave. My mended bones and strengthening sentences morphed me into a warrior. I climbed high trees and raised my voice to people taller than me. I fought the monsters of my dreams and ignored the ones next door. I was fearless, except not, because those truly without fear respect fear's existence.
I was a mountain girl; pieces of me fell away. The tallness of my body and the stoniness of my heart broke me apart. I was not as wise as I thought, for I did not build myself up on even ground. My tall body could not withstand the wind. Girls not as silly as my sisters used my childish dreams against me. They were smarter than me, and meaner still. They told me how I would not fly and laughed when I tried. They made me small. They made it easier for my stone heart to shatter. Boys not as kind as my brothers used their ocean eyes and voices of cotton candy to pull my veins into their snake-traps. They praised the fire of my bravery and climbed my trees, only to push me off the branches. They used their venom teeth to pull my invincible heart from my chest and proved me wrong. I could bleed.
I am a mountain girl; I continue to stand. Though my tops are now snow-covered with the lessons I have learned, I am not gone. I may be stupid, I may be with fear, I may be broken or bleeding or ugly or weak, but I am still here. They can cloud me with fear and erode my surfaces but they cannot knock me completely down. They can make me small and fragile but they cannot eliminate the existence of my soul. I will live on to run again to the places where I become what I am meant to be: tall and wise, made of stone and brave with fears, a human mountain through and through."
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