View allAll Photos Tagged Tether
A wider view of Beadnell harbour , this time showing the lime kilns which date from ca. 1800 and were used to produce lime (used as a fertilizer) from crushed local limestone. Their use to produce lime was very short-lived and they were no longer used for this purpose much beyond 1820. They are now used for storage by local fishermen.
Beadnell harbour is a rarity: a west-facing harbour on an east-facing coast.
The people in the shot seem to be practising social distancing a few months ahead of time! Something I was about to mess up when I went and sat next to my bike!
Polperro is a fishing port on a rocky coastline near Looe, with narrow, cobbled alleys and houses perched on slopes above the harbour.
Much of the village dates to the 13th century, and for many years the prosperity of Polperro was founded on the pilchard fishery. When the pilchard fishery waned, smuggling became perhaps the major source of Polperro's riches. One well-known smuggler was Willy Wilcox, who, according to legend, was lost in the bewildering network of caves that wind through the cliffs.
Now the village relies on tourism, with visitors drawn by the tightly packed lanes and idyllic fishermen's' cottages that line the picturesque harbour. Most of the buildings near the harbour are untouched by time, giving Polperro a quaint, old world feel.
Nuttall's thistle (Cirsium nuttallii - Asteraceae), opening and unopened flower heads, tethered by spider webs,
Lake Woodruff National Wildlife Refuge, De Leon Springs, Central Florida
Sorry - behind again!!!
Many thanks for all the kind comments and faves - they're very much appreciated :)
ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ sᴍᴀʟʟ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴍs ᴏғ ᴡʜᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇs ᴜs, ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴍᴍᴇɴsᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛs
She moved through the house like a quiet melody, soft and lingering, her presence weaving through the stillness he had left behind. The rooms sighed in his absence, not desolate but expectant, holding onto the promise of his return.
At night, she stood before the window, the moonlight pooling at her feet like a silver tide. She wore his favorite heels, the ones he always noticed, though he never said why. The curve of her reflection in the glass mirrored the rhythm of her thoughts - soft, longing, but certain. The faint tap of her heels against the wooden floor was the only sound, a quiet reminder of how she filled the space they shared.
The kettle hissed again, its melody familiar, almost comforting. It had always been their ritual, the quiet clink of porcelain cups, the steam spiraling between them as they shared the stillness of the morning or the weight of the evening. Tonight, she poured two cups out of habit, his mug placed beside hers on the counter. She didn’t drink it; she simply let it sit, the warmth seeping into the air as if to hold space for him.
The chair he favored beckoned to her as always, the cushion molded to the shape of his easy presence. She touched it lightly, her fingers brushing over the fabric like a whispered hello. His scent still lingered, cedar and something faintly spiced, a tether that reminded her he wasn’t far, just away. The thought settled in her chest, a quiet ache of missing bound tightly with the comfort of knowing.
Later, as the night deepened, she let the heels slip from her feet, their gentle clatter echoing in the silence. She climbed into bed, wide but not lonely, its edges folded into the promise of his return. Tomorrow, he’d be home. She could already imagine the sound of his key in the door, the weight of his arms wrapping her into the embrace she missed most.
She closed her eyes, a soft smile playing on her lips, and let the quiet cradle her one last time. The house, too, seemed to hold its breath, knowing that the stillness was about to break - that soon, his laughter would spill into the rooms again, sweeping the quiet away like morning fog beneath a rising sun.
Another view of the tenders stranded at low tide along the Pittwater.
This one stylised with some textures from the Aussie bushland.
While this house near the coast of Manie carries the signs of age and wear, it remains tethered to electricity and the 21st century.
Exasperated
At the end of your tether...
20" x 20" Digital Painting/Art
available in various media & sizes
www.theartoflife.gallery/v/photos/20852ptm/feeling-gallery
#theartocalypse #digitalart #interiordesign #art #mentalhealth #abstractart
Lake Wyola cove ~ Shutesbury MA
Please visit my other Flickr gallery:
www.Flickr.com/photos/walkingbolsachica
Thank you and warm regards, Jane
In the last few days I have been reviewing some old pictures from a few years ago. I never processed them because I did not know exactly what to do with them. I have given it another try.
And is a photograph of a flying man street photography?? :-))
Sunset on the Lancaster Canal near Garstang, Lancashire. This barge was called "Predator", hence the title! The owner had obviously cut quite a lot of firewood to keep his wood burner going, looking at the amount of saw dust on the towpath!
The colours in the sky were magical!
Lightroom classic tethering doesn't work for me anymore -so having to learn Eos version!
_X4A0005 copy
R.E.M. - It's The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)
… That's great, it starts with an earthquake
Birds and snakes, and aeroplanes
And Lenny Bruce is not afraid
… Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn
World serves its own needs
Don't mis-serve your own needs
Speed it up a notch, speed, grunt, no, strength
The ladder starts to clatter
With a fear of height, down, height
Wire in a fire, represent the seven games
And a government for hire and a combat site
Left her, wasn't coming in a hurry
With the Furies breathing down your neck
… Team by team, reporters baffled, trumped, tethered, cropped
Look at that low plane, fine, then
Uh oh, overflow, population, common group
But it'll do, save yourself, serve yourself
World serves its own needs, listen to your heart bleed
Tell me with the Rapture and the reverent in the right, right
You vitriolic, patriotic, slam fight, bright light
Feeling pretty psyched
… It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine