View allAll Photos Tagged Rustle
A cold wind was blowing from the north, and it made the trees rustle like living things.
George R.R. Martin,
texture: SkeletalMess
now the week is nearly over...and i have still no time for flickr, thanks for your visit and i wish you a good weekend ahead ♥
il trionfo dell'autunno nella faggeta del Monte Nero (PR)
The rustle of the leaves
Triumph of autumn in the beech forest, during a ring hiking
All rights reserved © Nick Outdoor Photography
Exactly in this moment it was perfect to took photos, because the light was warm and wonderful. So much leaves were on the ground. Do you also enjoy the sound of leaves rustle.
As promised, we are back today in the beautiful birch forest near Tisa in Bohemian Switzerland. To be more precise, we are standing in front of it today and have the sunrise behind us.
It's amazing how much this angle changes the effect of the picture.
The morning mist lies heavy on last year's slightly frozen grass, which crunches and rustles with every step you walk over.
The temperatures are near freezing and an icy wind is blowing in my face. Despite this, or perhaps because of this, there is a poignant silence here that immediately affects me and totally relaxes me.
The more strenuous part of the morning is still waiting for me here. Because after taking the photos from here, I walked across this bumpy meadow down into the forest, which you can see in the background here.
The other pictures that you have seen so far were taken there.
Wie versprochen sind wir heute zurück im dem schönen Birkenwald bei Tisa in der Böhmischen Schweiz. Genauer gesagt stehen wir heute davor und haben den Sonnenaufgang im Rücken.
Es ist schon erstaunlich, wie sehr dieser Blickwinkel die Wirkung des Bildes verändert.
Der Morgennebel liegt schwer auf dem leicht angefrorenen Gras vom letzten Jahr, welches bei jedem Schritt knirscht und raschelt, wenn man darüber läuft.
Die Temperaturen liegen im Bereich des Gefrierpunktes und mir weht ein eisiger Wind ins Gesicht. Trotzdem, oder gerade deshalb, herrscht hier eine ergreifende Stille, die sich sofort auf mich auswirkt und mich total entspannt.
Der etwas anstrengendere Teil des Morgens wartet hier noch auf mich. Denn nach den Aufnahmen von hier bin ich über diese Huckel Wiese hinunter in den Wald gelaufen, den man hier im Hintergrund sehen kann.
Dort sind dann die anderen Bilder entstanden, die Ihr bisher gesehen habt.
more of this on my website at: www.shoot-to-catch.de
Dushara Tatters and Rags & Dushara Cathal Caithlin (Somalis), 08.10.2015.
Olympus OMD EM5 Digital Camera
Font: Russel Write
textures and effects by Remember Remember
See more in my Texture set here
See more in my Landscapes set Here
John Clare
Winter Walk
The holly bush, a sober lump of green,
Shines through the leafless shrubs all brown and grey,
And smiles at winter be it eer so keen
With all the leafy luxury of May.
And O it is delicious, when the day
In winter's loaded garment keenly blows
And turns her back on sudden falling snows,
To go where gravel pathways creep between
Arches of evergreen that scarce let through
A single feather of the driving storm;
And in the bitterest day that ever blew
The walk will find some places still and warm
Where dead leaves rustle sweet and give alarm
To little birds that flirt and start away.
Midnight in Rome... one of the "talking statues" Il Babuino fountain... Looks like you’re alone, and just light rustle of waterstreams and no other sounds surrounding you... But don’t be so sure, old stones are coming to life and ancient Gods overhearing you...
Much better viewed large on black View On Black
These beautiful autumnal leaves were lying thickly under the tree with a play of light and shadow amongst them.
I had to get down real low to get the shot and it was fun to rustle amongst them.
Welcome to Bondi's 'Sculptures By The Sea', 2025.
See the videos:
sculpturebythesea.com/sculpture-sea-bondi-2025-exhibition...
sculpturebythesea.com/sculpture-sea-bondi-2025-exhibition...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZVJbwsWK2i0
This is Sculpture 32, entitled 'Rustle', by the artist Andrew Cullen.
Andrew states: "Crafted from reclaimed timber, this towering Water Dragon embodies adaptability in the face of changing waters. Its poised stance mirrors Nature's resilience, urging us to reflect on our uncertain future. Will we evolve to survive or be swept away?"
Photographed at sunset on Saturday 1st November, 2025, on the edge of the ocean cliffs along the Bondi to Tamarama coastal walk.
My Canon EOS 5D Mk IV with the Canon EF 24-105mm f/4L IS II USM lens.
Processed in Adobe Lightroom.
In my own shire, if I was sad,
Homely comforters I did have,
The earth, because my heart was sore,
Sorrowed by the sun she bore.
Whether in the woodland brown
I heard the beechnut rustle down,
And saw the purple crocus pale
Flower about the autumn dale. AE Housman.
***
Visit Frogmore today and join our group to participate in the current Autumn Photo Challenge (we have many). Details only inworld Frogmore Group.
The sounds of trickling waters, give pause to breath
The rustle of the winds through the trees, allow our minds to still
The biting chill of crisp winter air nipping over tender flesh allows us to feel present in the moment
Whilst beams of sunshine blind our eyes and give permission to close, to pause.
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Sorumin ༶ Lounge Set
• Cardigan w/without vest top
• Trousers (loose version too)
• Made for → Maitreya LaraX / PetiteX // Legacy // eBody Reborn/Waifu Boobs
Available from → ANTHEM Event.
There after available from → Sorumin in world store.
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Amidst autumn's warm and golden glow
Through orchards where fiery leaves bestow
Sipping warmth, under the sun's soft kiss
In this tapestry of moments that weaves pure bliss
My pups tail wags in joy, leaves rustle and play
A sip of cider is so sweet on this perfect day
Golden leaves dance and shadows softly fall
Creating autumn memories, cherished by all
In the orchard's hush there is a timeless tether
When we stop for cider, in this chilly fall weather
- Callie Code
Exploring SL:
Taken @ GARDENS OF SHADOWFELL
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/MIST%20II/241/177/24
Pose: *Children of the Forest* Whispered Song - by Le Poppycock
Wearing:
Outfit: Wildflower Nectar - by MUSE
Wings: Psycho Butterfly WIngs - by CURELESS[+]
Face: Fae Queen - by Clover
Lip piercing: Annika - by LittleFish
Hair: Joya - by DOUX
The theater in Epidauros is an ancient building that was built around 330 BC. The audience has over 14 thousand spectators. The theater is characterized by excellent acoustics, so that the whisper or rustle on the stage was heard even in the outermost row. The audience of the theater survived in good condition, mainly because it was covered with earth until the 19th century. Dramas from ancient Greek dramatists, including Sophocles, Euripides and Aeschylus, are still on display here.
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Teatr w Epidauros to starożytna budowla powstała około 330 r. p.n.e. Widownia mieści ponad 14 tysięcy widzów. Teatr cechuje się doskonałą akustyką, wskutek czego szept czy szelest na scenie słychać było nawet w najbardziej oddalonym rzędzie. Widownia teatru zachowała się w dobrym stanie, głównie dlatego, że aż do XIX w. była ona przykryta warstwą ziemi. Nadal są tu wystawiane dramaty starożytnych greckich dramaturgów, w tym Sofoklesa, Eurypidesa, Ajschylosa.
[ADD]
- [ADD] Suzanne Set
- 40 colors top
- 10 patterns top
- Maitreya + Petite- Legacy + Perky- eBODY REBORN + Waifus
all info in the blog
Eddies spiral, pulling whispers from stone, white noise rising in endless refrain. Water tumbles, a rhythm unknown, soft yet insistent, dissolving terrain.
Leaves, slick with rhythmic rain, rustle like echoes lost in the mist. A chorus of motion, fluid, untamed, a silent song too deep to resist.
Carved by time, held by sound, bound to the gorge, yet never bound. An endless pulse, unbroken, unchanged.
just listening to the gentle lapping of the waves as the breeze rustles the trees leaves and seagulls sing, here I am at home in the healing sounds of nature <3
Beech forests are something special for me. On the one hand, some of these forests are incredibly old, as beech trees are known to grow very slowly. So these two seemingly harmless specimens right in front of us will definitely be 100 years old.
And on the other hand (here my inner child comes into play again) the ground of beech forests is always covered with a thick layer of leaves. On the one hand, it rustles wonderfully when you run (so sneaking up is rather difficult here) and, on the other hand, it bounces with every step. So you almost have the feeling that you are walking on the mattress of a bed.
And if you have something with you that keeps out the moisture (it's usually pretty wet under the first layer of leaves) then it's also good to lie on this bed.
And when the low evening sun makes the colorful autumn leaves shine, the magic is perfect and the photographer is overwhelmed by deciding what to photograph first. And when will he be able to publish all these pictures? Well, let's just start with one and then we'll see.
Buchenwälder sind schon etwas besonders für mich. Zum einen sind diese Wälder streckenweise unfassbar alt, denn Buchen wachsen bekanntlich sehr langsam. So werden diese beiden recht harmlos wirkenden Exemplare direkt vor uns bestimmt ihre 100 Jahre alt sein.
Und zum anderen (hier kommt wieder mein inneres Kind zum Zuge) ist der Boden von Buchenwälder immer mit einer dicken Blätterschicht bedeckt. Was zum einen wundervoll raschelt beim Laufen (also Anschleichen wird hier eher schwierig) und zum anderen bei jedem Schritt federt. Man hat also fast das Gefühl man läuft über die Matraze eines Bettes.
Und wenn Ihr etwas dabei habt, was die Feuchgtigkeit abhält (unter der ersten Blätterschicht ist es meisst ziemlich nass) dann liegt es sich auch gut auf diesem Bett.
Und wenn dann noch die tief stehende Abendsonne das bunte Herbstlaub zu Leuchten bringt, ist die Magie perfekt und der Fotograf ist damit überfordert zu entscheiden, was er denn als erstes fotografieren soll. Und wann er denn wohl in der Lage sein wird diese ganzen Bilder auch zu veröffentlichen. Na gut, fangen wir einfach mal mit einem an und dann sehen wir weiter.
more of this on my website at: www.shoot-to-catch.de
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
What is special about all calathea representatives is that the leaves "live" and, to a certain extent, adopt a sleeping position at night: every evening they fold up with a rustle, in the morning they unfold again. The plants accomplish this movement with the help of a joint located at the base of the leaf.
Das Besondere an allen Calathea-Vertretern ist, dass die Blätter „leben“ und nachts gewissermaßen eine Schlafposition einnehmen: Jeden Abend falten sie sich raschelnd zusammen, morgens entfalten sie sich wieder. Die Pflanzen führen diese Bewegung mit Hilfe eines Gelenks aus, das sich an der Basis des Blattes befindet.
The darkness comes early and settles in deeply here above the 63rd parallel, but the fleeting blue hour before it envelopes the land is sublimely beautiful.
Normally running overnight the Alaska Railroad's daily Fairbanks to Anchorage road freight trains 130S is running 12 hrs late and departed the Golden Heart City in the late morning for it's 356 mile run to Last Frontier's largest city. This afforded Frank and I an extremely rare opportunity for some photos so we made the more than 5 hr drive up to Denali Park to intercept. With the sun having set about 40 min earlier the ISO is cranked up to capture this scene as the monster train with three SD70MACs and a geep up front with two more MACs as mid train DPUs is seen smoking up as it climbs the nearly 1% grade on the long tangent here at about MP 319.7 on the ARRC mainline crossing the little timber trestle over Cantwell Creek.
The foothills of the Alaska Range are already buried in a deep blanket of snow only days after Thanksgiving and the land has taken on a subdued quiet for its long winter slumber punctuated only by the rustle of the wind and the occasional roar of a passing train.
Cantwell, Alaska
Monday November 30, 2015
In the hush of dawn, whispering leaves dance in a symphony of crimson and gold, telling stories of seasons softly told. The scent of fall, crisp and sweet, fills the air where earth and sky meet, painting nature’s canvas in tranquil hues.
Beneath the trees, secrets of autumn quietly sleep, inviting us to embrace this fleeting, golden reverie. Let the gentle rustle of leaves fill your heart with joy, celebrating the beauty of change and the quiet magic of fall.
Let hope guide you, and approach each day with kindness and an open heart. Every ending is a new beginning—carry love and resilience with you on your journey. ❤️
~ Moon Magic
You may from time to time have seen reference to the “Three Happy Snappers” in my stories. That’s me, Dave and Lee. You don't need to know anything about me that I haven't already mentioned, so let me give you a brief introduction to the other two happy snappers. Dave is a web guru (whatever that is) and a fine art graduate. He, his wife and the youngest of their three adult sons are rarely seen in public, preferring to hide in their homely forest cottage that would have the Brothers Grimm reaching for their quills in imagination fuelled fury. Outside his day job, Dave looks after the website of a famous person, but I can’t tell you who it is of course. Client privileges and all that. He’s also my younger brother, which means I’ve known him for approximately five and a half decades. I was confined to my bed with German Measles the day he was being born at home in the next room, and when consulted by village elders on what I thought about my new baby brother, I apparently replied that he was ok, but on balance I’d rather have a new Thomas the Tank Engine train set. Choo choo!
Lee joined our world twelve or thirteen years ago, when he was invited to come and play football one Friday evening and was immediately accepted into the group on a long term basis. He used to sell glasses from a shop in Falmouth, made by the family business in his native West Midlands. Nowadays he works for a local electrician in the village where he lives, running the shop, keeping the appointments book up to date, and advising me on camera gear. His daily commute takes approximately one minute in either direction - on foot. Just occasionally, we lure him away from the village, but he does seem to be growing roots in the few years since he and his wife moved there from Falmouth. Before he came to Cornwall, he also had a famous client. He's not taking on new customers these days, but for us chosen few, he can still rustle up a new pair of varifocals at a price that tells me I shouldn't have gone to a certain optician on the High Street. I’ve never had a famous client by the way - or even any clients at all for that matter. I once bumped into Little Mo from Eastenders at Gatwick Airport. Does that count?
From time to time, the Three Happy Snappers convene at one location or another to take photographs at sunset, have a bit of a catch up with each others’ lives, discuss the football and enjoy a slow pint of hop based infusion before heading for home. And to my amazement we were going out for the second occasion in under a month. This time we’d agreed upon Land’s End in early August. The heather should be looking good around then. It was great at the same time last year. We'd grab some food on the way down, and then spend the second half of the afternoon among the heather. With any luck we’d get some nice light towards the end of day.
But what’s this - a fourth happy snapper gatecrashing the party? Well I remembered a message I’d had from one of you. Step forward artisan cheese maker Lloyd, who was making an extra visit to Cornwall this year. You know Lloyd - king of the super long exposure. I don't know if he has any famous clients, so you'll have to ask him I'm afraid. He usually arrives in quiet November, armed with a camera bag and good intentions, so being told that he was coming here in the middle of summer was a bit of a surprise. It so happened that his brief holiday coincided with our outing to Land’s End, and he was staying at nearby Cape Cornwall too. And yes he’d be delighted to meet us at Land’s End and update the locals on exactly how much it costs to park there if you don’t have a postcode that begins with “TR” or “PL.” It was the fourth time I'd met him here over the last three years. A spleen venting nine pounds and fifty pence this time. Ouch! I get to park here for free.
Half an hour later, after wrestling our way through the hordes, we were sitting in the hotel grounds, supping four frighteningly expensive pints and planning our sunset shoot. Ever the tech tart, Lee was demonstrating the remote shutter contraption he'd recently acquired to operate his phone camera from six paces away as the four of us gurned inanely at the birdie, waiting for the Google Pixel that he'd perched perilously close to the edge of the bench to topple onto the concrete below. Somehow it survived the drop. It might have been the best picture of the day.
What didn't appear to have survived this far into August was the heather. This time last year it was here in abundance, but today much of the growth was already distinctly brown and patchy. Plan A was looking a little bit shaky, so it's a good job that there are plenty of other things to take pictures of at Land's End. Although somehow, the small patch of heather that I did find in the right place made it into the image. It was easier than this last year. Strange when it’s been so colourful elsewhere around here recently.
It's always great fun when the three happy snappers get together. Even more so when an honorary fourth joins the party. Although we did ask him to bring some cheese next time. Who doesn't love cheese?
As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a soft hue over the tranquil sea, a sense of serenity envelops the landscape. The lighthouse stands tall and steadfast against the fading light, its beam a guiding presence for ships navigating the twilight waters. Gentle waves lap against the shore, harmonizing with the soft rustle of the breeze through the coastal grasses. This idyllic scene, where the calming beauty of nature meets the reassuring safety of the lighthouse, creates a perfect blend of peace and protection, a timeless sanctuary for both seafarers and dreamers alike.
This secluded path winds quietly through the dense wilderness of Gorumara Forest, its soil packed down by the silent, ancient footsteps of elephants. Towering sal and teak trees form a leafy canopy overhead, filtering the sunlight into shifting patches of silver and shadow. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and wild grass, occasionally stirred by the calls of unseen birds or the distant rustle of movement deep within the undergrowth.
This is a path less travelled by humans—untamed, mysterious, and deeply alive. It holds the raw, unspoiled spirit of the forest, where every bend might reveal fresh tracks, and every silence hints at the presence of something watching. Following this trail is like stepping into a forgotten rhythm of nature, where elephants have walked for generations and the forest keeps its secrets close.
Autumn is here...the fall. Leaves drop and die in their billions. They rustle and whisper as they blow about, dry and rot. But the brightest leaves in the pile get together and march off to sunnier climes ( I caught them on root) to be happy through the winter months. And live Life.
When you think of Las Vegas today and the way the World is, it would be a better place if people really believed that leaves have minds, and emotions too. We would be a more peaceful World.
Crabby Commuters of the Caribbean
It was somewhere between midnight and orthopedic regret when I stepped out of the tent barefoot—and discovered that the beach was alive. Not metaphorically. Literally alive. It was crawling with thousands of Caribbean Land Hermit Crabs, scuttling like commuters late for a meeting that no one quite understood.
Some were dining on seaweed. Others were dragging around seashells like overstuffed luggage. One particularly ambitious crab was trying to evict a neighbor with what I can only describe as bad manners and excellent leverage.
It wasn’t scary, but it was… unsettling. Like watching a carpet ripple underfoot. The sand didn’t shimmer—it rustled. A soft, scratchy sound like dry leaves being polite.
These crabs don’t hop from island to island themselves. Their children do. Mom lays her eggs in the surf, then retreats to dry land. The tiny larvae drift on ocean currents for weeks, like saltwater stowaways in microscopic swimwear. Eventually, some wash ashore on distant islands and start the whole ridiculous process over again.
There’s something oddly comforting in that. Nature, improvising with tide charts and hand-me-downs.
Couplet::
They clatter and crawl like a late-night parade,
With shells that are borrowed and nerves that are frayed.
All of those Ists sure knew how to work together
Especially after they took over the media for themselves
You had the obvious ones
The imperialists…the capitalists…the sadists
The racists the sexists
You had the humans who insisted they didn’t
Fit inside a box or an ist
But as soon as an ist came along and they saw the advantage,
They were isted right on the spot
It would be accurate to say
When the isting occurred, people started to lose track
Of the things that mattered to them before
Simple melodies or the way the wind rustles through trees
They were so caught up in the isting, you see.
People also forgot to think about the future
And all of the previous treasures disappearing
Under the strain of all of the isting
Like a Cancer, is starts with your hair falling out
Then your teeth
Your internals are mush
You can’t taste a thing except the metal
The days of carefree whistling
Have turned into megalomaniac isting
Until there’s nothing remaining to be written down
Or left of who we were.
**All photos and poems are copyrighted**
The wheat rustled in straight lines up and down, when I saw the fiery red hair I knew it was Eleven.11 on her evening run ❤️
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Smartdoll Nostalgia
Me: (Squinting at a trail sign that looks like it was drawn by a toddler with a caffeine overdose) Uh, Refugio Grey... that way? But... isn't that, you know, south?
Sign: (Stiff lettering seems to wobble) Look, buddy, directions are just suggestions. Besides, who even starts the W Trail at the bottom? Everyone knows it's Grey to Torres, not Torres to Grey.
Me: (Trying not to lose it) Says the sign that has the final leg listed as the first.
Sign: (Defensive rustle) Hey, cut a sign a break! It's been a long Patagonian fall.
Me: (Sighing) Fine. So, Refugio Paine Grande, where I just left, is a breezy 45 meters (148 ft) above sea level. Grey, apparently, is a thrill-seeker's paradise at 65 meters (213 ft). Big whoop.
Sign: (Puffing out its metaphorical chest) Don't underestimate those 20 meters (66 ft), pal! They come with a doozy of a mountain in between.
Me: (Pointing at a sketchy path on the sign) You mean this "steep ascents and descents" nightmare? Look, sign, I'm at the top of this whole thing already – Laguna los Patos, a cool 210 meters (689 ft). And guess what? I'm about to climb another 40 m (131 ft) because, you know, pretty pictures.
Sign: (Mumbling) Showoff.
Me: (Shouldering my ridiculously heavy backpack) So, 3 kilometers (1,86 miles) down, 7 km (4,35 mi) to go. Easy, right? Especially with this 50-liter (13,20-gallon) water tank strapped to my back. (Sarcastically) Thanks for all the helpful "decisions" on this map, by the way.
Sign: (Shrugging, if signs could shrug) Hey, you gotta keep things interesting! Stay tuned for panoramic vistas and questionable life choices at the top of that hill!
PS. For our desktop dwellers, feast your eyes on my handy annotations by simply gliding your mouse over the photograph.
In the morning you can only hear the rustle of the Sava River...
Lancovo, Radovljica, Slovenija
[Nikon F50+Fujicolor Superia 200]
Excerpt from www.waterfallfestival.ca/events/copper-canopy/:
Copper Canopy: An Installation of Light, Shadow, and Community
In the chaos of urban life, we often forget to take a moment to breathe. Copper Canopy offers a moment of stillness – inviting visitors to stand beneath something that feels alive.
Stop by Ontario Square and immerse yourself under a canopy of copper leaves.
By day, the leaves catch the light and scatter soft shadows across the ground. By night, lighting transforms the installation – casting intricate patterns on surrounding surfaces and shifting the atmosphere of the space entirely. As wind moves through the piece, the leaves gently sway and rustle, adding a subtle layer of sound to the experience.
Copper Canopy responds to its surroundings – shifting with the light, weather, and movement of people passing beneath it. The installation evolves throughout the day, offering a dynamic and reflective space in the heart of the city.
Designed by: RAW Works, with Roland Rom Colthoff, Suleman Khan, Elmira Yousefi, Aaron Hendershott, and fabricated by Anex Works.
It was so quiet sitting on the little platform at Laurel Creek Conservation area, looking the sun down clouds reflected on the lake, listening to the leaves rustle, the birds singing, the ducks talking, the frogs plopping into the nearby water… it is not in the rural area, it is in the city, couple of minutes walking from the house...
Sunset at Laurel Creek Conservation area, the neighborhood lake within walking distance, experimenting with LEE ND filter 10 stop, using “B” mode, 130 sec exposure... Will try sunrise someday... ;)
What secrets lie hidden in the depths of the forest? What extraordinary events unfold there, and when do they occur? Countless questions surround the enigmatic happenings beneath the dense canopy of trees. It is undeniable that tremendous, almost otherworldly forces have been at work here—forces so strong that they have altered the very geometry of the forest system, twisting its natural order and tilting it, in places, by a full 90°. The air is heavy with whispers of the unknown, the shadows play tricks on the eye, and every rustle of leaves feels like a message from the forest's mysterious heart.
www.flickr.com/photos/184806716@N02/54555209681/in/pool-i...
In tangled woods where shadows fall,
A whisper stirs, so faint, so small.
A flutter near the chaparral,
The bushtit weaves its quiet call.
No trumpet song or flash of fire,
Just gentle chirps that never tire.
A wisp of gray, a dash of flight,
It graces dawn and fades from sight.
With feathered kin it moves in cheer,
A social soul that draws in near.
From oak to branch, it hops in play,
In morning gold or dusky gray.
It does not seek the grandest stage,
Nor boastful song from poet's page.
Yet in its humbleness and grace,
It brings calm beauty to this place.
So pause and look with softened eye,
Where leaves may rustle, branches sigh—
For in the stillness, if you sit,
You just might glimpse the bushtit.
Волна, волна.
Бурлит она прозрачна и светла.
Сегодня она так весела.
Окрылена и так вольна,
Что хочется ей побежать,
Кричать, летать.
И птицей стать! инет
🌹・。.・゜✦ **The Tabitha Gown** ✦・。.・゜🌹
A Story of Enchantment and Timeless Grace
The evening began like a whisper of destiny — a hush between twilight and the promise of nightfall. The courtyard glimmered with soft candlelight, its scent of rain and roses curling through the air. I wore my Tabitha Gown by Just Because — its scarlet silk shimmering with a heartbeat of its own. Every fold, every curve of lace seemed to remember a time when beauty was devotion and grace was an unspoken language.
It was there, beneath the arch of wisteria, that I first met him. His presence felt both new and remembered — a prince not of crown, but of soul. Our eyes met, and in that moment, the world stilled. The gentle rustle of my gown was the only sound between us, the fabric glowing under the dim lantern light like living fire.
This gown is born of another era — touched by the romance of Victorian and Rococo influences. Its corseted bodice embraces the figure with regal poise, while lace trims and sweeping skirts recall the salons of Versailles and candlelit dances where hearts were courted with a glance. The craftsmanship carries whispers of centuries past, reimagined for a modern muse who believes love still blooms in timeless form.
The Tabitha Gown is lovingly crafted for LaraX, Legacy, Perky, Reborn, and Waifu mesh bodies — each silhouette perfected for motion, grace, and realism.
And its magic — oh, its magic — lies within its PBR-only HUD, where the light plays upon the fabric as if spun by moonlight. Reflections move like dreams, tracing every contour with lifelike shimmer. Whether under candle glow or starlit skies, the gown feels alive, radiant, and utterly spellbound.
That night, as he took my hand, the world melted into a single moment — the scent of roses, the warmth of his touch, the silk of my gown glowing in scarlet light. Perhaps love does not find us by chance... perhaps it recognizes the way we shine when our hearts are ready.
Find your own moment of destiny in the Tabitha Gown — now available at the Dubai Event
❤️ [Dubai Event SLurl]
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Dubai%20Event/75/128/23
🌹・。.・゜✦・。.・゜✦・。.・゜🌹
One more of Bastian rolling in his play tunnel.
Bastian (mixed breed), 14.02.2017.
Olympus OMD EM5 Digital Camera.
pine needles rustle
the reality has lost us
cuckoo call sounds out
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polaroidweek day three 2/2
triptych, MINT SLR670S, Polaroid color film
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day thirty-six of my haiku project.
be responsible and watch out for each other! and above all stay safe! #FlatteningTheCurve
you can find all the other haikus here:
It was 8th November and we went to Curzon Richmond
Cinema to watch "Paddington in Peru". Paddington and Matilda had never been to cinema and were very excited
Paddington: "Look, there is a large white quadrangle. It is a screen and we will see the movie there!"
Matilda: "How they will get the movie on that screen?"
Paddington: "The film is projected with a movie projector onto a large projection screen that we see at the front of the auditorium."
Matilda: "Why it is getting so dark! I cannot see you anymore, nor Ilona!"
Paddinton: "A dark environment minimizes distractions, allowing viewers to focus entirely on the film. "
Matilda: ""What, what did you say?"
Paddington: "When the movie starts you have to look only forward! Not at me or Ilona!"
Matilda: "What is that ? I can smell something!"
Paddington: "I smell something too!"
I had to explain to friends that people were eating snacks, particularly popcorn. And crisps. And chocolates. And we could hear the wrapping paper rustle around.
"Do you have a marmelade sandwich in your handbag?" Now both turned back to me in hope I would have at least one:)
🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻
Happy Teddy Bear Tuesday!
In the photo you can see the Epizode of Baby Paddington falling in water and being rescued by aunt Lucy and her husband
#Ab_Fav_STREETSCENES
Yes, a big favourite place for us in Flanders.
A MUST ON OUR VISIT.
Such a lovely silence except for the rustle of the majestic Elm- and tall Poplar leaves.
Those cathedral like trees (the flat landscape needed these ‘wind-stoppers’), dappled light, and again, the silence only broken by a bumblebee, a bird, a distant moo, the shutter of the camera.
A few miles from Brugge and the coast, you have the small town of Damme.
In the Middle-Ages, this used to be the harbour of Brugge, one of the wealthiest cities in the North.
Due to silt the North Sea is now about 25 miles out, but Damme retained it's reputation for good food and beer, wonderful old buildings full of the history of revolutionary Flanders.
Centuries later Napoleon saw the importance of the area and ordered a system of canals to be built.
Today, whichever road you come from, if you want to get to Damme, you'll drive along those beautiful treelined canals.
Here, all the rows of trees, bordering both a cycle/walking path and a bridle path, what an impressive sight.
Have a lovely day, M, (*_*)
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Abstract
Double exposure
Alone
Lost in the jungle
It whispers
It rustles
Creeping steps of an animal
It grunz
A bird is screaming somewhere
Cold moonlight shimmers through dense foliage
Er… mushroom.
Well we’ve already had a load of images of interesting mushrooms today. Amazing variety and colours, all beautifully taken…
This isn’t. I thought I would quickly rustle up a little attempt at humour as my contribution to the Smile on Saturday group this week.
This mushroom came from the fridge (it's raining outside, I tell you, and I am nice an warm and snug inside so it's the best you'll get from me today ;) ). I don’t think it grew there but you can’t be too sure these days. It’s cut in two so it is meant to be symmetric… mweh... maybe.
I keep thinking I ought to learn more about our native funghi. It’s an interesting group of non-plants, without which life as we know it couldn’t exist. And they’re secretive, magical and poisonous, and what’s more the fairies like them. What more could you want?
Thank you for taking the time to look. I hope you enjoy the image, even smile. Happy Smile on Saturday :)
[Handheld in directional window daylight against dark card background.
Developed in Capture One starting to take out the background with Levels. A little sharpening.
Processed in Affinity Photo, trying several crops to get the balance right.
Levels to take out the background card.
Inpainting to get rid of some of the swarf from cutting. Soften with Clarity set low and sharpened with Unsharp Mask.
Converted to B&W using Nik Silver Efex, going for high structure and trying to get the tonal balance right, with something relatively high key.
Slight dark vignette mainly to overcome some problems with the background far right.
And there we are. I also tried Topaz - that was a lot of fun, but not for today…]