View allAll Photos Tagged Rustle
Resting or preparing an ambush? Phone shot by Lene.
Bastian (mixed breed), 13.10.2018
Samsung SM-G930F Mobile Phone
Extremely drought tolerant, the Feathertop grass (Pennisetum villosum) is among the most beautiful and graceful ornamental grasses. It has large, fluffy and bright white flowers whick look like plumes cascading down, and the light green foliage that rustles in the wind.
This plant typically grows in 2 feet tall (60 cm), from mid-summer until fall, spreading narrow green foliage topped with furry white bottlebrush-like flowers on arching stems.
Welcomed in any garden style, it is versatile and can be used in groups or in masse. It's ideal in borders where it provides texture, color and contrast, but can be planted also in containers. Since it can grow in almost pure sand, planting near the beach is a possibility.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7mEXT1O2pio
I taught myself to live simply and wisely,
to look at the sky and pray to God,
and to wander long before evening
to tire my superfluous worries.
When the burdocks rustle in the ravine
and the yellow-red rowanberry cluster droops
I compose happy verses
about life's decay, decay and beauty.
I come back. The fluffy cat
licks my palm, purrs so sweetly
and the fire flares bright
on the saw-mill turret by the lake.
Only the cry of a stork landing on the roof
occasionally breaks the silence.
If you knock on my door
I may not even hear.
Anna Akhmatova (1889-1966)
I was having lunch on my back deck and I heard the rustle of leaves. When I looked down, I saw two fawns playing alongside their mother, who was busily munching on poison oak. One ventured into a clearing, looked up, and I got the shot.
❄ ❅ ❆ ❉ ❊ ❋ youtu.be/6Qbw3Weu8rQ
Ever felt an angel's breath in the gentle breeze? A teardrop in the falling rain? Hear a whisper amongst the rustle of leaves? Or been kissed by a lone snowflake? Nature is an angel's favorite hiding place.
- Carrie Latet
. . . bigger is better (white if you prefer) . . . Via Fluidr . . . bigger stream . . . via Fluidr . . .
. . . thanx to Alice Popkorn for this great texture . . . www.flickr.com/photos/alicepopkorn/3070801493/
So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.
-- Hermann Hesse
I know I'm stretching the theme 'Bags and boxes' a little, but what else is a tunnel than a bag with an extra opening? ;)
Posted for the "Happy Caturday" theme "Bags and boxes".
Bastian (mixed breed), 11.09.2018
Olympus OMD EM5 Digital Camera
Grass rustled beneath their hoofs
Depicting the place where they'd been grazing
Close to the forests edge
by Alan Brown
HSS
Thanks for the comments, faves and visits
Delicate yet vibrant, these maple leaves paint a stunning portrait of autumn's peak. Their rich crimson hues stand out brilliantly against the soft, out-of-focus background, creating a natural tapestry of the season. Notice the intricate details - the serrated edges, the subtle variations in color from deep red to hints of orange, and even the small imperfections that add character to each leaf. This close-up shot captures the essence of fall, reminding us of the fleeting beauty in nature's transitions. As you gaze at this image, can you almost feel the crisp autumn air and hear the rustle of leaves in a gentle breeze?
Vibrant take on fall trees along the Natchez Trace.
For TMI's June Contest "Magical Trees" www.flickr.com/groups/22286323@N00/discuss/72157653202527...
Visit my Kreative People group member : Highlight Gallery
the bosque is a spiritual place, each visit new and exciting.. One of those places you can visit year after year and never get tired of its ever changing views.
There is no true way, especially in images to capture the feeling of being there in person. The birds are not quiet..there is a constant cacophony of sound. A multitude of calls and the rustle of wings. You can hear the flocks coming from miles away... the sound of their cries becoming louder and louder as they approach.
www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/sandhill_crane/sounds
www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/snow_goose/sounds
(for the snow geese I suggest you click all the boxes simultaneously at maximum volume that will come close to approximating the actual Bosque sound)
Posted for the "Happy Caturday" theme "Favourite toys".
Bastian (mixed breed), 27.01.2019
Olympus OMD EM5 Digital Camera
Thank you for reading my Story and enjoying the Photos. I really apreciate that. Smiles brightly:)
ڰۣ-ღ In the flickering light of a rising moon, she laid hunched over the ancient tome, its pages filled with intricate black and white drawings. The silence of the night was broken only by whispering leaves and the soft rustle of the turning pages....ڰۣ-ღ
...but flicking through the old pages and peering at the strange drawings, the mind drew its own fantasy images and the static pictures came to life, shimmered with shadows and shades and let the imagination run wild...strange, weird, unforgettable...terrifying and beautiful...on the path of "The Play of Mind"...(to be continued)
"The Play of Mind" Chapter 1 Some Doors are Best Left Closed
"The Play of Mind" Chapter 2 Deeper and Deeper
"The Play of Mind" Chapter 3 Trapped inside the Mind
"The Play of Mind" Chapter 4 Fighting your Demons
"The Play of Mind" Chapter 5 Living in Illusions
"The Play of Mind" Chapter 6 Cry All Your Tears
"The Play of Mind" Chapter 7 Bury your Sins
If you listen closely,
You can hear the rustle of Angel's wings,
And know that she is still with you,
Maybe not here on earth,
But always by your side guiding and watching over you,
And forever in your heart♥
Pose I am using.....::B-U-Y Me::. 5 Bento pose set "Angel" @Tres Chic - March Round.
Taxi To Event:
[...] A few days ago I walked along the edge of the lake and was treated to the crunch and rustle of leaves with each step I made. The acoustics of this season are different and all sounds, no matter how hushed, are as crisp as autumn air [...]
-- Quote by Eric Sloane (1905 –1985) American landscape painter
Rome, Italy (October, 2007)
Is something we take pretty seriously.
Update: Photo credit, M. Rabbit. We were handing the camera back and forth, and this is one of her shots.
The day fades away in grey fog.
The wind knocks off drops from trees.
A string of cormorants got tangled in flight,
ended a warm day,
the last day in Mazury.
Twilight took off sails from lakes,
spread a hundred fogs.
The rustle of calamus still reached us.
It's time to come back.
The night dressed up in black.
It's the sad twilight of summer.
Cormorants have already flown away from here
to seek warm parts.
They'll come back to the lakes in spring.
No one bids us farewell here.
Today it's already so empty today.
Only the wind chases fogs among the bulrush.
It's time to come back.
I hear the sacred hymns of life
In rustles of those fallen leaves
Curled into uneven memories
A lonely bench, some wilted emotions
I hear the whispers of the Fall
Of the end....the end not so far
The Fall in Srinagar, Kashmir Himalayas, India
“Where we are, there is light.” The wind blew hard from the east and the trees rustled their branches. “From where I’m standing… it is warm enough.”
K. Ancrum, The Wicker King
K. Ancrum is the author of the award-winning thriller The Wicker King, the interstellar lesbian romance The Weight of the Stars, and the Peter Pan thriller Darling. Ancrum is a Chicago native passionate about diversity and representation in young adult fiction.
Wisconsin & Southern's westbound freight, T007 rolls through the Wisconsin countryside as a lite breeze rustles the springtime grasses and leaves.
WSOR T007
Prairie Sub
WAMX 4192,4188,3829
Cross Plains, WI.
June 1, 2017
Picture, if you will, a quaint scene from Mother Nature’s grand design. On the surface, it’s the simple, heartwarming image of a song sparrow mother dutifully tending to her youngster. But look closer and you'll find that not all is as it seems.
This unassuming fledgling is not her offspring--but an imposter. He hails not from the sparrow lineage, but rather, is the young scion of a brown-headed cowbird clan. He is a creature born not from the bonds of familial love, but from a dark grift hatched in the sinister alleyways of the animal kingdom.
Deftly perpetrating his ruse, this fledgling cowbird has hoodwinked his foster mother into a misplaced display of parental care. His call is not a melody of innocent hunger, but a siren tweet--drawing the hapless sparrow into an intricate dance of survival and deceit.
Such is life upon this sylvan stage, where the line between victim and perpetrator blurs, where innocence is lost amidst the rustle of feathers, and where the laws of nature unfold not in black and white, but in the unforgiving grays of ... the Flylight Zone.
Windy spring... an ethereal dance of unseen forces, where the invisible hand of nature orchestrates a symphony of movement and change. The gusts of wind, like restless spirits, sweep through the landscape, stirring the air with a palpable energy. In this turbulent season, the trees sway and bow, their branches reaching out as if yearning to touch the elusive breeze. Leaves rustle and whisper secrets to one another, their delicate forms fluttering in the whimsical currents. The grasses undulate like waves on a vast sea, bending and swaying in synchrony with the invisible rhythm.
Na kraju dana, sve stane u jedan pogled
Datum: lipanj 2025.
Lokacija: Novi mol u luci za male brodice, Šilo, otok Krk
Fotoaparat: Canon EOS R7
Objektiv: Soligor 28mm f/2.8 (M42) preko K&F Concept adaptera
Postavke: f/11, 1/500 s, ISO 250, WB Auto, ručni fokus, iz ruke
Opis i tehnički dojam:Ova fotografija nastala je spontano – želio sam testirati stari Soligor 28mm na pejzažima i uhvatiti kako se ponaša pri večernjem svjetlu. Kombinacija f/11 i širokog kadra donijela je lijepu dubinu – jasno se vidi i brodić u prednjem planu i obrisi Učke na horizontu.Posebno me ugodno iznenadila mekoća fokusa i prirodno vignjetiranje – kao da objektiv sam zna gdje staviti granicu snova.Soligor se u ruci ponaša vrlo predvidljivo i ugodno – pravi mali klasik koji zna šaptati svjetlu.
Poetski zapis:Sunce se već spustilo do horizonta, a more još nije odlučilo – šaptati ili šuštati.Jedan čamac vraća se kući, kao i misli koje danom lutaju.I sve stane u taj jedan kadar, u taj jedan pogled, u trenutku kada ništa više nije hitno.Tamo, iza zalaska, možda i svjetlost zastane da predahne.
At Day’s End, It All Fits in One Glance
Date: June 2025
Location: New pier in the small boat harbor, Šilo, island of Krk
Camera: Canon EOS R7
Lens: Soligor 28mm f/2.8 (M42) with K&F Concept M42-RF adapter
Settings: f/11, 1/500 s, ISO 250, WB Auto, manual focus, handheld
Technical insight:This photo came about spontaneously – I wanted to test the old Soligor 28mm on a landscape scene and see how it handles evening light.The f/11 setting paired with a wide frame gave excellent depth – both the boat in the foreground and the silhouette of Mount Učka on the horizon are clearly visible.What surprised me pleasantly was the softness in focus and the natural vignette – as if the lens itself knows where dreams begin to blur.Soligor handles well in hand – a true little classic that knows how to whisper to the light.
Poetic reflection:The sun had already kissed the horizon, while the sea was still deciding – to whisper or to rustle.A lone boat returns home, just like thoughts drifting through the day.And everything fits into that one frame, that one glance, in a moment where nothing is urgent anymore.Out there, beyond the sunset, even light might pause for breath.
- Amit Ray
While I was one my daily morning 3 mile walk I looked down and saw the beauty in these leaves. I love the sound when I walk on them and the scent it rustles up. I read somewhere that autumn smells so wonderful because decaying leaves supposedly emit a scent similar to baking brown sugar. Well, it certainly seems true. My morning walk smelled heavenly.
Caithlin ready to pounce at the feather wand...
Posted for the "Happy Caturday" theme "Playtime".
Dushara Cathal Caithlin (Somali cat), 31.08.2018.
Olympus OMD EM5 Digital Camera
Leaves they crunch as you walk
Birds in trees, they sing and talk
My love does wait for my kiss
Filled with sweet Autumn bliss
Hand are held, hearts they beat
Leaves they rustle, under my feet
As we walk, under the trees
Where sweet love fills the Autumn breeze
“A cold wind was blowing from the north, and it made the trees rustle like living things.”
― George R.R. Martin
There's more on www.chm-photography.com.
"A few days ago I walked along the edge of the lake and was treated to the crunch and rustle of leaves
with each step I made. The acoustics of this season are different and all sounds, no matter how hushed,
are as crisp as autumn air."
Eric Sloane
Had a nice walk around the lake at our local park this morning...until... I came across a Canada Goose sat by the lake, with what looked like a crossbow bolt through its head...quite distressing to see. I rang the RSPCA as soon as I got home. They sent an inspector out to investigate, she updated me later ...the goose flew onto the lake when she approached it, but looked like it might be coping ok and eating...for now. They will follow it up over the next few days and make a decision on whether or not to try and catch it.....
there are some sick people out there who get a kind of warped pleasure from injuring innocent creatures...:-(
update re Goose...It was eventually caught by the RSPCA who seem fairly confident that after the bolt is removed...it should be ok and will be resettled in a swan rescue centre....well done to the RSPCA who follow up and don't give up when an incident of animal cruelty is reported!!
textures thanks to PaintedWorks.
A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one's suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.
So the tree rustles in the evening when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts. Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.
Hermann Hesse
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Le%20Monde%20Perdu/117/217/22
When I go for a walk, the only music I hear is that of nature, the sound of the wind in the branches of the trees, the rustle of the trampled grass and the sweet sound of the birds singing... what could be better?
A face in the wind and my skin comes alive,
The world spins around me and my heart quickens.
The sun shines down on me as leaves rustle,
And a smile graces my face once more.
Amor fati.
A quick shot done at Winter Moon
By the way, “Amor fati” literally means “love fate,” but within the tenets of stoicism it is generally accepted as “Embrace life.”