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"I stand before you tonight to represent the people who do not count: The poor, the poets, and monks. As long as there are people who are trying to realize the divine in themselves, there shall be hope in the world."
Thomas Merton (1915 - 1968)
Interesting little three wheeler that was for sale. The engine was set between the driver's legs and steering was done via bike style handle bars.
"Rise up this morning
smiled with the rising sun
three little birds
pitch by my door step
singing sweet songs
of melodies pure and true
saying, this is my message to you:
Don't worry about a thing
cause every little thing is gonna be alright
don't worry about a thing
every little thing is gonna be alright."
~ Bob Marley
Three angels look out from the gravestone of Charles and Johanna Root in the churchyard of St Andrews church in Cherry Hinton. Charles died in 1907 and Johanna followed in 1932.
Three girls in gymslips sitting on the grass. 1930s or likely earlier. Could this in fact be our 3 intrepid travellers in their schooldays??
Seen on the back of a car. I've been seeing these laughing bears for years, but don't know anything about them.
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Canvas prints, prints, mugs, mousemats, coasters and clocks
Three young reindeer grazing side by side.
This is the first major sign that greets drivers as they arrive in Washington, DC via the Teddy Roosevelt Bridge.
The first three options lead into that famously tangled mess of highways southeast of the Kennedy Center. The signs themselves could be simplified: first, let's use a consistent font. The two EASTs are clearly different. I would also center them with the numbers in the highway symbols (66 and 50). I would consistently abbreviate Avenue - you see they use Ave with Constitution but spell it out with Independence. I'd always use Ave and keep it on the same line as Independence. Next, there's no need to indicate Downtown under 50 EAST - I'd consider E Street to be closer to downtown anyways.
That boxy truck on the left is used to move the concrete barriers two times every work day. They switch the direction of the middle lane since the traffic flow is lopsided, with more cars driving into the city in the morning and then flocking into Virginia at night. It would be interesting to see whether patterns have normalized as DC experiences a housing boom and Virginia experiences a jobs boom.
Three AEC Regent IIIs await their next duties in the bus park next to Slough station during the 2013 Slough running day. RT3491, RT2083 and RT2177.
nrhp # 95001407- The sixty-three room Hotel Love was constructed in 1895 and opened for business in March of 1896. One of the finest hotel in the Chickasaw Nation Hotel Love, "The Pride of Purcell ... the building was superior to anything of its kind in the Indian Territory." In 1900 Hotel Love was a brick building three stories high and combines all the modern conveniences of an up-to-date hotel ..." It had steam heat, electric lights, and rooms were $2 a night. It was once a favorite place for newlyweds to spend their honeymoon.Of the many hotels constructed in Purcell between 1887 and 1901, only the Hotel Love is in existence today. The Hotel Love was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1995.In 1982 the building was purchase by Jerry and Elaine Butler, who put in anAnitque Shop,upstairs more than a dozen rooms have been filled with various antiques and collectibles.
from blogoklahoma.us
Erosion in Three Gorges reservoir has turned out to be even more serious than expected. The reservoir’s fluctuating water levels are destabilizing the slopes along much of the reservoir, and have triggered major landslides. Bringing erosion under control will require several hundred thousand more people to be displaced.
Learn more about International Rivers' Three Gorges work:
St Andrew, Collyweston, Northamptonshire
And so to church-exploring again, a day in which our hero takes a bicycle ride into Rutland and north Northamptonshire. He rides two ridges either side of the great Welland Vale, meets an eccentric churchwarden, sees double, frightens a horse, has his head turned by a young American lady, witnesses the longest railway viaduct in the British Isles, has another incident with a lady over wheelie bins and climbs hills no man of his age should be expected to climb.
An early start, the 0600 from Ipswich, arriving Stamford, Lincolnshire at 0810, and then I headed straight across the county border and up and out the long ridge that runs on the Northamptonshire side of the Welland Vale, climbing higher and higher with spectacular views into the Vale below. The day was overcast, which is always a disappointment in this part of the world with its stone buildings which are brought to life in sunshine, but even so the villages are lovely and the rolling hills dramatic.
My plan was to visit my 50th Northamptonshire church, and then cut and run back to Stamford via Ketton. However, this was not the way things would turn out.
My first port of call was only a couple of miles out of Stamford, but involved a steep climb on the busy Stamford to Kettering road before turning off and swooping down and then up into the exquisitely pretty hilltop village of Easton-on-the-Hill and its church of All Saints, which I was surprised to find was locked without a keyholder notice. I hadn't expected this. I wondered if I was too early, because it was still a few minutes short of 0830, but the bloke cutting the grass said it was usually open by this time, but he thought it had been left locked because there was a wedding later that day. He didn't have a key, and of course as it is usually open every day there wouldn't be a keyholder notice, would there.
It seemed a shame, because Pevsner has lots to say about how lovely the inside is. A big church, the graveyard narrow and big-treed to the south, difficult to get a shot from that side, but wide-open to the north with some grand 18th Century memorials, which was some recompense. The 18th Century was Stamford's heyday of course, one of the most important towns in England before the Industrial Revolution.
I hate starting the day with a locked church, but it would be one of only a couple in the course of the day. I headed back on to the busy road which in less than two miles brought me into Collyweston, an even prettier village, although the traffic spoilt it a bit. Here was the church of St Andrew, locked with a keyholder notice. The church is set back from the main road behind a large wall, with just a narrow doorway entrance. This is unusual, but it is the same at Helpston in Cambridgeshire, not so very far off and a very friendly church. However, this doorway had a sign saying 'this gate is closed. The trees are dangerous.'
I peeped over the wall, and the church looked a bit neglected. Was it still in use? I headed up the main road and turned off into an unutterably lovely high street of mainly 17th and 18th Century stone buildings, some thatched, others roofed in 'Collyweston tiles'. A gated alleyway ran up to the south side of the church, and a sign said 'you can't get through the churchyard. The trees are dangerous'. All very curt and to the point. I headed down to the church, but I could see the padlock on the doors, and a sign 'Because we've had robberies, we have to keep the church locked. If you have a genuine reason for visiting, the key is at...' and it listed five keyholders, all surprisingly close by, neighbours in fact.
I chose the first one on the list, a few doors down from the gated alley. Here, a sign said 'tradesmen, itinerants and salespeople - you can knock on this door all you like, no one will hear you. If you have a genuine reason for calling, open the door, walk up the alley and ring the bell at the far end.' At this point I realised I was dealing with a genuine eccentric, and so it proved. He jumped at the chance to show a stranger his church. As we walked back to the church I said I was sorry to hear there had been robberies. "Yes, well," he said, "there was one long ago. But the main reason we keep the church locked is we can't find anyone reliable to open and close it each day', which reminded me of one of the reasons my late friend Tom Muckley used to give as the most likely ones for churches to be kept locked, and not for security reasons at all.
A tall, rather shabby church, and stepping inside was to find a rather sad interior and a sense of past glories, for Lady Margaret Beaufort had a castle at Collyweston, and the 15th Century brought plenty of money for church renewal. A chapel at this time was built on the south side of the chancel, and 20th Century restoration has revealed inside it the original outside wall of the late Norman church. There is a very good AK Nicholson war memorial window which includes an image of the church (and, incidentally, part of the churchwarden's house, he was proud to note). There is a very tall south clerestory, but no aisle, filled with early 19th Century glass 'brought here from a Yorkshire church'. No one seems to know who it is by. I noticed the Sarum screen still in use, and I asked the churchwarden if they were still High Church. 'We get what we're given', was his curt reply.
I said farewell to my new friend and then headed back on the busy road towards the next village, which was set below where the A47 Leicester to Great Yarmouth road crosses it. On the map it looked a busy junction, but I knew the A47 well from travelling to and from Leicester when my son was at university there, and it is quite cycleable at this point, quite unlike what it will be like once it gets into Norfolk. A lot of the traffic there must come off of the A1 I suppose. Duddington was reached after a short distance in the Leicester direction, and here was the church of St Mary, and it was open.
A lovely village, and a delightful setting for the church, up an alley between cottages and then set on a small, round, raised churchyard, which must be an ancient space. The church is very pretty, though a bit of an oddity, as the spired tower is set at the east end of the south aisle. Inside, the church is lovely, such a difference to the previous church, clean and light and overseen by glorious Norman arcades with capitals, but on a small scale, for this is not a big church. I thought it was delightful, and of course it had no difficulty in stepping up as church of the day so far.
I now headed out of Duddington at the western end of the village back onto the A47, but just before I reached it I crossed the gently winding River Welland by an old stone bridge and in doing so crossed into Rutland for the first time. Barely half a mile on the A47, and I turned off again towards Tixover.
To be continued.
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Hello all. I know I haven't posted anything for quite a long time, so I thought I'd keep everyone interested with a shot I took whilst on a day out with family. It's nothing special, but I liked the contrast and the impending rain clouds in the sky.
I took a lot of photographs of my granddad the past week, however those are going in my personal portfolio as they are special to me - so I will not be uploading these unfortunately. Hopefully I will have more shots to upload soon though , so watch this space.
Three giants in the morning sun. Two active volcano around the edges and one dormant volcano at center.
You can find the man in the red jacket in the distance
I see the wall as a kind of ocean, a sea of sacrifice that is overwhelming and nearly incomprehensible in the sweep of names. I place these figures upon the shore of that sea, gazing upon it, standing vigil before it, reflecting the human face of it, the human heart. The portrayal of the figures is consistent with history. They wear the uniform and carry the equipment of war; they are young. The contrast between the innocence of their youth and the weapons of war underscores the poignancy of their sacrifice. There is about them the physical contact and sense of unity that bespeaks the bonds of love and sacrifice that is the nature of men at war. And yet they are each alone. Their strength and their vulnerability are both evident. Their true heroism lies in these bonds of loyalty in the face of their awareness and their vulnerability. ~ Frederick Hart
Looking towards the Three Lamps junction from the Bath road, Wednesday 7th March 1973. The pub, which I think was called the Blue Bowl, is boarded up and ready for demolition. The road is now much wider but the meeting of the Wells and Bath roads is still a conventional junction controlled by traffic lights. The queues of traffic which form here are no worse now than they were then. Road improvements encourage car travel; if you leave things alone they don't get any worse.