View allAll Photos Tagged Sunwarmed
A cool breeze and a warm sun created one of those "special" late day views of Sparks Lake. Ice cold snow melt waters gently ripple with the breeze, yet so clear that the bottom is visible regardless the depth. Sparks Lake is 5433 feet in elevation. Yet Cascade Range mountains South Sister and Broken Top still loom on the horizon. Clouds keep advancing on South Sister but continually dissipate as they try to scale the 10358 feet of elevation. Water fowl and land birds call out to each other as night approaches.
The bumblebee is buzzing around a bright purple flower, its furry yellow and black body visible against the summer sky. It gently lands on the flower, probing it with its long proboscis to collect nectar. In the background, a flower meadow stretches out, with a variety of colors and shapes dotting the landscape. The sun is shining, warming the air and bringing life to the meadow. The bumblebee continues its search, gathering nectar to take back to its hive.
this place is our oasis of coolness. it's in the creek close by, right across the street from our house, only one or two minutes footwalk. the water is cold, icy cold, and so very clear and fresh, coming down directly from the mountains.
it's the most refreshing thing ever to go there. not only the water but also the whole atmosphere helps to cool down and to refresh and to relax.
changing from cold clear water to sunwarmed stones and back makes you feel all smooth and cool and peaceful inside.
we go there a lot these hot day. sometimes, we take our lunch there, and plunge , eat, plunge for an hour, before we all return to our work. i also walk over whenever the temperature in my loft office gets too unbearable; a five minute bath, and things are all new.
after a dip in there, i walk home in the 35°C heat with goosebumps on my body.
(pics taken on june 30, 2008)
...... and now i'm off to the north sea for ten days, to enjoy a time of solitude and sand and sea on a small island.
until later!
You remember the sunny days of last summer, sitting on this bench while having an ice cream? You heard the seagulls scream, little birdies singing their hearts out in the nearby trees; the perfum of the green sunwarmed grass and the rotting reeds; the fortunate moment with no passers-by, just you and the tiny moment of silence you couldn't have imagined even being possible in downtown. You have to wait patiently for the next summer, for the next ice cream..it will revive you, eventually,
These early fall days already make me nostalgic for the fresh summer days of late April, sunwarmed afternoons on still-verdant hills.
Canon 5D Mark II, Canon 100-400L, f/8 @ 1/40, ISO 100
Sitting on sunwarmed rocks with a beer in my hand... the camera on a tripod watching a glorious sunset... Life is good!
Missing warmer weather this winter... it'll be here again soon though :)
on a sunwarmed harbour wall in Dunbar - had a siesta next to it... who needs sea vies when there's all this lush texture and abstraction
The patient outcome of fertile fields sunwarmed and watered. Unlike the feed on your device, the refresh on this scene is beyond the attention span of a goldfish.
Below is quite possibly my most very favorite poem ... It comes to me - full and rich - in the oddest of moments.
This time I had slogged through the mud of the recently tree-cleared and re-seeded side yard after a thorough watering - wearing these - my "at the ready, by the back door" flip flops. A puddle had collected in a dip in the driveway (our Texas foundations are want to rise and fall) and I happily used it to splash away the mud from my toes and left the sandals floating - to soak away the rest of the muck.
There - standing in the sunwarmed puddle - in the beautiful light at the dimming of the day - still a little damp from dodging the sprinklers to follow a monarch butterfly around the yard with my camera - I thought to myself "This day has become a presence to me."
Granted - I had no great charge to answer for this particular day other than preparing meals and doing for my family - but once again I was awakened - to do it with a whole self and a full heart.
- VARIATION ON A THEME BY RILKE -
(The Book of Hours, Book I, Poem 1, Stanza 1)
A certain day became a presence to me;
there it was, confronting me — a sky, air, light:
a being. And before it started to descend
from the height of noon, it leaned over
and struck my shoulder as if with
the flat of a sword, granting me
honor and a task. The day’s blow
rang out, metallic — or it was I, a bell awakened,
and what I heard was my whole self
saying and singing what it knew: I can.
- DENISE LEVERTOV -
Speaking of freezercases and forklifts, I like to use a fork to lift big bites of Pepperidge Farm Freezercase Layercakes into my mouth. Mmmm! In Minneapolis they're only $5-$6 in most of the innercity cornerstores, about the cost of a pack of cigarettes. I like to shorten and pluralize the name to P-Farms.
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In south Minneapolis on November 3rd, 2009, on the west side of 10th Avenue South, between East 22nd Street and East 24th Street. The forklift is a Towmotor.
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Library of Congress classification ideas:
TL296 Forklift trucks—Pictorial works.
TP492 Commercial freezers—Pictorial works.
F614.M543 Minneapolis (Minn.)—Pictorial works.
Spring is close today. Early afternoon sun drips through the blinds, twinkling in the dust and soaking the front room. Outside, the air is crisp and slightly hostile, but inside there is only spring's promise.
The radio has been on for hours, drowned out by laundry, dusting, the vacuum and the dogs barking at squirrels bouncing in the front yard.
And then I hear the comfortably sly voice of Warren Zevon.
Ah-Oooo! Werewolves of London!
My spirit lifts a bit and I howl with Warren the next time. I bounce with the music and Mollie dances around my legs.
My mind drifts above me for a minute and I stand outside myself, spying on my own good mood.
Can hope make the heart sick? I force back memories and check on the laundry. My next distraction is to wash the dishes and sponge off the counter.
The kitchen looks nicer than it has in weeks. I have the urge to put on a pot of something. But for weeks there's been nothing in the fridge more elaborate than milk for my cereal, and bread which has been toasted with butter and jam for dinner whenever I eat at home rather than going out with friends. I live the single life my domesticated friends envy.
And isn't the purpose of a big pot of something sharing it with someone else? My own thoughts snap at me. You'd eat alone anyway. Today is no different from last month. But it was. It just was.
You aren't being punished. You've got to open your hands to let this go, and receive something better in exchange. Will you let go of bad for better?
A friend sent me this email a few days ago. It was an inspirational message, a standard forward with the standard encouragement.
I slide a damp mop over the hardwood floors, disrupting Petey's snoring. Responding to the invasion, he abandons his strip of sunwarmed floor under the kitchen table, stretching twice as lazy dogs do - the front legs first and the back legs next with satisfaction so complete you wish you could do the same. He ambles to his favorite chair, jumps into it and settles himself again.
The radio steals my attention.
Oh no I've said too much
I haven't said enough
I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try
I've always been practical. I've often been dream squasher practical. This time I was brave and confident, because everyone tells you that you regret the risks you never take. I wasn't going to fail to try this time. And he also tried. And I didn't imagine it. I know I didn't.
Every whisper
Every waking hour I'm choosing my confessions
Trying to keep an eye on you
Like a hurt, lost and binded fool
Oh no, I've said too much
I felt that way with him so often at the end, when the trust I had given him was so misplaced and exposed, like a child with no home. Saying too much. Never finding just the right combination of words to demonstrate my commitment, repeating them when they didn't work the first time. Fumbling. Risking. Offering my trust again and again despite all the good reasons not to, feeling a little rebellious at last, because I suspected giving up was what he most wanted.
Hope can make the heart sick.
I thought the world would be kinder than that. I thought when I descended from my perch for someone special, eager to invest and love, that the world would be pulling for us.
Try, cry, why try?
Bad felt better than alone. He said he never argued with her. Said it like I should feel guilty for upsetting the planetary alignment of his new life.
Well what had he ever done to her that they would need to argue?
Laundry. The clothes need to be folded and the closet searched for clothes I could donate. An hour later, a full trash bag sits by the door, ready to go to work with me in the morning.
Can you let go of something bad to make room for something better?
Show me the goods then, I mumble at the empty room. Mollie stirs but even she doesn't get up.
It will come when you least expect it. Something else my friend tells me. Well then, it should be here just any minute now.
Bob Marley. Another distraction.
Don't worry about a thing
cause every little thing is gonna be alright
I return to the livingroom and turn up the volume. Mollie follows me and I shake my hips at her to get her attention
Don't worry about a thing
cause every little thing is gonna be alright
The music hurts inside me, the pain in my lungs like being too long under water. But I spin inside it. When my mind breaks free and spies me from a distance again, I refuse to feel self-conscious.
three little birds
pitch by my door step
singing sweet songs
of melodies pure and true
saying, this is my message to you:
Mollie circles me as I dance on the carpet. I feel my brain uncurl as it returns to me, finished for a time with its detached observance and ready to join me again.
What hope makes the heart heal? I need that kind.
Don't worry about a thing
cause every little thing is gonna be alright
I dance. And the tight feeling of loss breaks open a little crack more. And the radio's buttons change colors in time with the music. It is spring. So I dance in circles inside spring's promise, and try not to dwell on what feels empty inside me. And I get comfortable with alone. Because one day soon I will believe that it was better than bad hope. I have no other choice.
--Laura Burke
You can read other stories like this on my blog: lalapapawawa.blogspot.com/
(All feedback is welcome, either thru flickrmail or the comments section below)
Now from his breast into his eyes the ache
Of longing mounted, and he wept at last,
His dear wife, clear and faithful, in his arms,
Longed for
As the sunwarmed earth is longed for by a swimmer
Spent in rough water where his ship went down
Under Poseidon’s blows, gale winds and tons of sea.
Few men can keep alive through a big surf
To crawl, clotted with brine, on kindly beaches
In joy, in joy, knowing the abyss behind…
{Odysseus yearns for Penelope} from Homer's THE ODYSSEY
The climate is not really suitable to cultivate potatoes, but the settlers in the beginning of the 19th cent found out to take advantage of the sunny side of this hill. The is often a couple of frost nights during the summer, but the frost can´t creep up this sunwarmed hillside. The hill is divided so every farmer has their own part.
The climate is not really suitable to cultivate potatoes, but the settlers in the beginning of the 19th cent found out to take advantage of the sunny side of this hill. The is often a couple of frost nights during the summer, but the frost can´t creep up this sunwarmed hillside. The hill is divided so every farmer has their own part.
The climate is not really suitable to cultivate potatoes, but the settlers in the beginning of the 19th cent found out to take advantage of the sunny side of this hill. The is often a couple of frost nights during the summer, but the frost can´t creep up this sunwarmed hillside. The hill is divided so every farmer has their own part.
an unseasonally hot Winter's Sunday lured me out to the courtyard to indulge in a little Interiors Mag reading....it's been a while...
The climate is not really suitable to cultivate potatoes, but the settlers in the beginning of the 19th cent found out to take advantage of the sunny side of this hill. The is often a couple of frost nights during the summer, but the frost can´t creep up this sunwarmed hillside. The hill is divided so every farmer has their own part.
The climate is not really suitable to cultivate potatoes, but the settlers in the beginning of the 19th cent found out to take advantage of the sunny side of this hill. There is often a couple of frost nights during the summer, but the frost can´t creep up this sunwarmed hillside. The hill is divided so every farmer has their own part.
The only one not having a good time was the poor train driver. Young Volunteer Two now has his own lizard poking stick, though i'm not sure he ever got to use it. There's also a few adult passengers who are now standing outside on the other side of the train, also doing their best to encourage the lizard to get out from under the train.
Eventually, the lizard did come out and scurried up the side of the embankment. Not all that far up. I wouldnt be surprised to learn that the lizard had returned to the sunwarmed tracks in time to cause a holdup for the second train trip of the day.
At the end of our train trip, there was an announcement that the two Young Volunteers would be given a little something for their assistance.
I found this stuck inside my Macrobar which was a really weird promotional placement decision.
#1 this Ellie Goulding thing was stuck to a sunwarmed, gooey macro bar. Gross.
#2 it was also out of date since it's not like Macrobars are flying ogg the shelves nahmean? C'mon, WTF marketing peeps!
A fox taking advantage of the sunwarmed sandstone benches in the Mary Rippon theatre (between the wings of the Hellems building on the CU campus). 12/14/09
There's enough that I think I could make wine... But ya know, it's easier to eat the grapes and buy the wine.
To take this picture, I scrambled up a rock, bottle of Amarula in one hand, cup in the other to join the gang sitting in a line on the sunwarmed ridge.
I'm back! And doing fine :) I eat a lot lately (really, I DO eat!) and I stay on the heating whenever it's on. But when the sun shines (now and then) I'll go looking for the best sunwarmed spots in the house, and I always know where to find them! 'She' says I'm a 'clever girl' ;)
Icarus was rolling around on the carpet, soaking up the sunshine and generally enjoying himself.
I swear he was posing.
The afternoon sun catches on the well-worn old steps leading to or from the water's edge, Ross Bridge, Ross, Central Tasmania.
even though the hagia sophia is super old, there were two previous ones built there before that. they don't know anything about the first one, but the 2nd they recently found ruins of. so they have them all dug up where they found them, and they are so deep you can't get close- but cats can! this one curled up and slept on the sunwarmed artifact.