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"Skye!!!????" she said
"Yes, I told you". OK. perhaps she wasn't fully awake when I told her at 0330 in the morning.
It was now after 1000 and I was on my way down from the Old Man of Storr. "How long will it take you to get back?" she asked.
"About 4 hours" was the answer. it was going to have to be a long day. By the time I had been to the Fairy Pools I would spend around 9 hours driving that day.
I was under pressure for time. No time for tripods and long exposures. I had to make do with a handheld stitched pano. The Bridge at Sligachan. Another Thomas Telford creation built around 1810 and still standing
A day out in Skye is not really viable. You need a week there.
I recently told you about my unexpected experiences on an evening walk, which ultimately led me to the Prince George Tower on the Ungerberg near Neustadt in Saxony.
I would of course like to show you this little tower. The photo was taken during a break that I needed to stabilize my circulation before I could tackle the 132 steps to the viewing platform.
I didn't count the steps myself, by the way. As I entered the tower, a young woman came towards me who did this on the way down. I spontaneously adopted her counting (she made a very trustworthy impression on me).
Incidentally, an observation tower was built on this spot in 1846 so that people could see over the treetops. But just two years later the tower was destroyed by arson. In 1883, a stone tower was built, although it was only 18 m high. It was not until 1973, during a renovation, that the tower reached its current height of 33 m.
Vor kurzem hatte ich Euch ja meine unerwarteten Erlebnisse eines abendlichen Spazierganges geschildert, welcher mich schlußendlich auf den Prinz Georg Turm auf dem Ungerberg bei Neustadt in Sachsen geführt hat.
Ich möchte Euch dieses kleine Türmchen natürlich auch einmal zeigen. Das Foto entstand in einer Pause, die ich gebraucht habe um meinen Kreislauf zu stabilieren, bevor ich die 132 Stufen zur Aussichtsplattform in Angriff nehmen konnte.
Ich habe die Stufen übrigend nicht selbst gezählt. Beim Betreten des Turms kam mir gerade eine junge Frau entgegen, die das auf dem Weg nach unten erledigt hat. Ich habe Ihre Zählung spontan übernommen (sie machte auf mich einen sehr vertrauenswürdigen Eindruck).
An dieser Stelle wurde übrigens bereits 1846 ein Aussichtsturm errichtet, damit man in der Lage war über die Baumwipfel hinweg sehen zu können. Doch bereits zwei Jahre später wurde der Turm durch Brandstiftung wieder vernichtet. 1883 wurde dann ein Turm aus Stein errichtet, der allerdings nur 18 m hoch war. Erst 1973, im Zuge einer Renouvierung erlangte der Turm seine heutig Höhe von 33 m.
Then Granger told Montag: “In abandoned railway yards, wandering the roads, tramps outwardly, but inwardly libraries. It wasn’t planned, it just so happened that a woman here and a man there loved some book, and rather than lose it, they learned it, and we came together. We’re a minority of undesirables crying out in the wilderness, but it won’t always be so. One day we shall be called on, one by one, to recite what we’ve learned, and then books will be printed again, and when the next age of darkness comes, those who come after us will do again as we have done. Yes, we burn the books. But we keep them up here [pointing to the brain] where nobody can find them.” - from "Fahrenheit 451" by Ray Bradbury
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZaLJ10v4xUA&pp=ygUbZmFyaGVuaG...
Created With Night Cafe AI Generator
I recieved this as an email attachment I share with you ..
Kind courtesy Virendra
From: Virendra Singh
The wonder of a Banana
A professor at CCNY for a physiological psych class told his class about bananas. He said the expression "going bananas" is from the effects of bananas on the brain.
Read on:
Never, put your banana in the refrigerator!
This is interesting.
After reading this, you'll never look at a banana in the same way again.
Bananas contain three natural sugars - sucrose, fructose and glucose combined with fibre. A banana gives an instant, sustained and substantial boost of energy.
Research has proven that just two bananas provide enough energy for a strenuous 90-minute workout. No wonder the banana is the number one fruit with the world's leading athletes.
But energy isn't the only way a banana can help us keep fit. It can also help overcome or prevent a substantial number of illnesses and conditions, making it a must to add to our daily diet.
Depression: According to a recent survey undertaken by MIND amongst people suffering from depression, many felt much better after eating a banana. This is because bananas contain tryptophan, a type of protein that the body converts into serotonin, known to make you relax, improve your mood and generally make you feel happier.
PMS: Forget the pills - eat a banana. The vitamin B6 it contains regulates blood glucose levels, which can affect your mood.
Anaemia: High in iron, bananas can stimulate the production of haemoglobin in the blood and so helps in cases of anaemia.
Blood Pressure: This unique tropical fruit is extremely high in potassium yet low in salt, making it perfect to beat blood pressure, so much so, the US Food and Drug Administration has just allowed the banana industry to make official claims for the fruit's ability to reduce the risk of blood pressure and stroke.
Brain Power: 200 students at a Twickenham (Middlesex) school ( England ) were helped through their exams this year by eating bananas at breakfast, break, and lunch in a bid to boost their brain power. Research has shown that the potassium-packed fruit can assist learning by making pupils more alert.
Constipation: High in fibre, including bananas in the diet can help restore normal bowel action, helping to overcome the problem without resorting to laxatives.
Hangovers: One of the quickest ways of curing a hangover is to make a banana milkshake, sweetened with honey. The banana calms the stomach and, with the help of the honey, builds up depleted blood sugar levels, while the milk soothes and re-hydrates
your system.
Heartburn: Bananas have a natural antacid effect in the body, so if you suffer from heartburn, try eating a banana for soothing relief.
Morning Sickness: Snacking on bananas between meals helps to keep blood sugar levels up and avoid morning sickness.
Mosquito bites: Before reaching for the insect bite cream, try rubbing the affected area with the inside of a banana skin. Many people find it amazingly successful at reducing swelling and irritation.
Nerves: Bananas are high in B vitamins that help calm the nervous system.
Overweight and at work? Studies at the Institute of Psychology in Austria found pressure at work leads to gorging on comfort food like chocolate and chips. Looking at 5,000 hospital patients, researchers found the most obese were more likely to be in high-pressure jobs. The report concluded that, to avoid panic-induced food cravings, we need to control our blood sugar levels by snacking on high carbohydrate foods every two hours to keep levels steady.
Ulcers: The banana is used as the dietary food against intestinal disorders because of its soft texture and smoothness. It is the only raw fruit that can be eaten without distress in over-chronicler cases. It also neutralizes over-acidity and reduces irritation by coating the lining of the stomach.
Temperature control: Many other cultures see bananas as a "cooling" fruit that can lower both the physical and emotional temperature of expectant mothers. In Thailand , for example, pregnant women eat bananas to ensure their baby is born with a cool temperature.
Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD): Bananas can help SAD sufferers because they contain the natural mood enhancer tryptophan.
Smoking &Tobacco Use: Bananas can also help people trying to give up smoking. The B6, B12 they contain, as well as the potassium and magnesium found in them, help the body recover from the effects of nicotine withdrawal.
Stress: Potassium is a vital mineral, which helps normalize the heartbeat, sends oxygen to the brain and regulates your body's water balance. When we are stressed, our metabolic rate rises, thereby reducing our potassium levels. These can be rebalanced with the help of a high-potassium banana snack.
Strokes: According to research in The New England Journal of Medicine, eating bananas as part of a regular diet can cut the risk of death by strokes by as much as 40%!
Warts: Those keen on natural alternatives swear that if you want to kill off a wart, take a piece of banana skin and place it on the wart, with the yellow side out. Carefully hold the skin in place with a plaster or surgical tape!
So, a banana really is a natural remedy for many ills. When you compare it to an apple, it has four times the protein, twice the carbohydrate, three times the phosphorus, five times the vitamin A and iron, and twice the other vitamins and minerals. It is also rich in potassium and is one of the best value foods around So maybe its time to change that well-known phrase so that we say, "A banana a day keeps the doctor away
But not everybody is ready to give up just yet. "Low mileage, one careful previous owner". I'm told someone has bought this lady and is going to fix her up.
End she told me to have a great weekend, and she didn't mind that my days are crazy sometimes, maybe just because my city
never sleeps...
And I'm here, looking at this "Slave Boat", and thinking about the biggest party in the face of earth, thinking of Carnival, the biggest, the loudest, the most amazing time ever created.
And the samba beat going and going in my brain, (yep, the buzzing that drives me crazy as well), sharing the same space.
And is Carnival, it's samba sweat and kisses, it's time to chill, to enjoy and celebrate life, ( also keep life as we know going, lots of November babies), it's time to forget about life, to be a part of a fantasy world, be whatever you want to be, and maybe, forget about our demanding schedules, and believe systems..
It's carnival, and guess what?
My country is closed for business, resistance, that is the part that I love the most, the people against the machine, it reminds me that, today, yesterday, last century, this Slave boat, transported souls, people and as a natural cause, transported resistant people...
Cheers....
This is not a slave boat no more....
We're all rebels...
“things only exist if they are told/narrated”
(attributed to Alessandro Baricco);
“le cose esistono solo se vengono raccontate”
(attribuita ad Alessandro Baricco).
POSTER - LOCANDINA –
www.primevideo.com/detail/Oh-Mio-Dio/0FBFGSB0G1HMNXV56F5C...
pad.mymovies.it/filmclub/2018/02/181/locandina.jpg
movieplayer.net-cdn.it/t/images/2018/03/08/oh_mio_dio_car...
----------------------------------------------------------
click to activate the small icon of slideshow: the small triangle inscribed in the small rectangle, at the top right, in the photostream (it means the monitor);
or…. Press the “L” button to zoom in the image;
clicca sulla piccola icona per attivare lo slideshow: sulla facciata principale del photostream, in alto a destra c'è un piccolo rettangolo (rappresenta il monitor) con dentro un piccolo triangolo nero;
oppure…. premi il tasto “L” per ingrandire l'immagine;
www.worldphoto.org/sony-world-photography-awards/winners-...
www.fotografidigitali.it/gallery/2726/opere-italiane-segn...
………………………………………………………
This "photographic story" ideally follows the previous one, for two reasons, first because in this case too, as in the previous story we talk about "angels", they are the "Golden Angels" of San Pier Niceto (in the province of Messina), and second, because this singular and beautiful religious festival, with its procession, also takes place during the Easter period, specifically during "Holy Tuesday". The photographs that I post (not a few, I wish in this way to pay homage to the inhabitants of San Pier Niceto, who can find themselves in these photos, especially for those fathers, mothers, grandfathers, grandmothers, aunts and uncles, in seeing their beloved and very sweet "angels - angiolette"); if you look closely at some of the photographed subjects, you will notice a "temporal disconnect", in fact in some cases, the same girls are present, with two different ages, they will be dressed differently, this is because the photos were taken during Holy Tuesday of 2024 and that of 2025. The temporal sequence of the photographs does not take into account either the year in which they were taken, nor the moments attributable to the phases of the ceremony and subsequent procession.
In San Pier Niceto, on the Peloritani Mountains in Sicily, during the Holy Tuesday takes place the SS. Crucifix procession, whose roots are ancient. The Church of St. James houses and cares for the precious Crucifix, Which is brought to the procession by the streets of the country preceded by very young children, of both sexes, who imitate little Angels, Angels and Grieving young Nuns, dressed in elaborate dresses covered with many gold jewelery, sewn by handy hands that with pins, necklaces , Bracelets and many other gold jewelry applied to their little clothes, they make real works of art whose designs are reminiscent of Easter symbols. Gold for dressing is collected home from home by people who have to melt a "vote", gold that will be returned at the end of the procession. Everything begins during Lent when parents decide to dress their baby by little Angels, Angels or Grieving Nuns .The Little Angels are usually 3 or 4 year olds, the Angels are a little bigger, the Nuns are little young girls. Thus the preparations for the elaboration of the elaborate clothes begin: Parents during Lent are knocking at every door of the country, among friends and relatives, to borrow bracelets, brooches, necklaces and all the gold necessary for the composition of embroidery . The Little Angel's dress is white, short down to the knee, made up of a gold-plated bodice and a skirt with some golden embroidery; Arms are adorned by bracelets, the head is adorned by a collier, small wings (white dove feathers) sprout from behind. The Angels have a white tunic, on which sacred icons are embroidered in gold, the head is covered by a collier, wings lie on their shoulders. The Nun's dress is black, on which are stitched the crowns of the S.S. Rosary, on the head is placed a white veil, held by a rose crown. At 16:30 on Holy Tuesday, a tapping of bells together with the band's fanfare in the village, set off at the "Crucifixion Procession" of San Pier Niceto: at the foot of the Crucifix there are red roses, behind it are located branches of cypress (at the end of the event the faithful will carry with them a piece of cypress as a relic), finally the red ribbons are tied to the arms of the Crucifix, they will mark the procession of the procession until the arrival at the Mother Church, a century church to St. Peter the Apostle, where the celebration of the Holy Mass will take place (the reverse path will bring the SS Crucifix to the Church of St. James): in perfect order the faithful in religious silence, with votive candles in their hands, walk the streets of the country never crossing the red ribbons as they delimit the path of the Golden Little Angels, Angels and the Grieving young Nuns .
Questo "racconto fotografico" segue idealmente il precedente, per due motivi, innanzitutto perchè anche in questo caso, come nel racconto precedente si parla di "angeli", sono "gli Angioletti d'oro" di San Pier Niceto (in provincia di Messina), e secondo, perchè questa singolare e bella festa religiosa, con la sua processione, si svolge anch'essa durante il periodo pasquale, nello specifico durante il "Martedì Santo". Le fotografie che posto (non poche, desidero in tal modo omaggiare gli abitanti di San Pier Niceto, che possano ritrovarsi in queste foto, soprattutto per quei papà, mamme, nonni, nonne, zie e zii, nel rivedere i loro adorati e dolcissimi "angioletti - angiolette"); a ben guardare in alcuni dei soggetti fotografati, si noterà uno "scollamento temportale", infatti in qualche caso, sono presenti le stessi bimbe, con due età diverse, saranno vestite diversamente, questo perchè le foto sono state realizzate durante il Martedì Santo del 2024 e quello del 2025. La sequenza temporale delle fotografie non tiene conto nè dell'anno nel quale sono state realizzate, nè dei momenti ascrivibili alle fasi della cerimonia e successiva processione.
A San Pier Niceto, sui monti Peloritani in Sicilia, durante il Martedì Santo prende vita la processione per le vie del paese del SS. Crocifisso, le cui radici sono antichissime. La Chiesa di San Giacomo ospita e custodisce il pregevole Crocifisso, che viene portato in processione per le vie del paese preceduto da bambini anche molto piccoli, di entrambi i sessi, che impersonano Angioletti ed Addoloratine vestiti con elaboratissimi abiti ricoperti con tantissimi monili d’oro, cuciti dalle mani abili di sarte che con spille, collane, bracciali e tanti altri monili in oro applicati sui loro piccoli vestiti, realizzano vere opere d’arte i cui disegni ricordano simboli pasquali. L’oro per la realizzazione dei vestitini viene raccolto di casa in casa da persone che hanno da sciogliere un “voto”, oro che verrà restituito alla fine della processione. Tutto ha inizio durante la Quaresima, quando dei genitori decidono per “voto” di vestire il proprio bambino da Angioletto, Angiolone o Monachella.
Gli Angioletti sono solitamente bimbi di 3 o 4 anni, gli Angioloni sono un po’ più grandi, le Monachelle sono delle bambine. Così iniziano i preparativi per la realizzazione degli elaboratissimi vestiti: i genitori durante la Quaresima bussano ad ogni porta del paese, tra la cerchia di amici e parenti, per prendere in prestito bracciali, spille, collane e tutto l’oro necessario alla composizione dei ricami. Il vestito degli Angioletti è bianco, corto fino al ginocchio, composto da un corpetto ricoperto d’oro ed una gonna segnata da alcuni ricami d’oro; le braccia sono adornate da bracciali, la testa è adornata da un collier, da dietro le spalle spuntano delle piccole ali (piume di colomba bianca). Gli Angioloni hanno una tunica bianca sulla quale vengono ricamate delle icone sacre in oro, la testa è cinta da un collier, sulle spalle trovano posto delle ali. Il vestito delle Monachelle invece è nero, sul quale vengono cucite delle coroncine del S.S. Rosario, sul capo viene posto un velo bianco, trattenuto da una corona di rose. Alle 16:30 del Martedì Santo un rintocco di campane insieme alla fanfare della banda del paese, danno il via alla “Processione del Crocifisso” di San Pier Niceto: ai piedi della Croce vi sono delle rose rosse, dietro di essa trovano posto dei rami di cipresso (alla fine dell’evento i fedeli porteranno con se un pezzetto di rametto come reliquia), infine dei nastri rossi vengono legati alle braccia del Crocifisso, essi segneranno il percorso della processione, fino all’arrivo al Duomo, una chiesa cinquecentesca dedicata a San Pietro apostolo, ove si terrà la celebrazione della Santa Messa ( il percorso inverso riporterà il S.S. Crocifisso nella Chiesa di San Giacomo): in perfetto ordine i fedeli in religioso silenzio, con ceri votivi in mano, percorrono le vie del paese, non oltrepassando i nastri rossi poiché essi delimitano il percorso degli Angioletti d’oro e delle Addoloratine.
"Something told the wild geese
It was time to go.
Though the fields lay golden
Something whispered, "snow."
Leaves were green and stirring,
Berries, luster-glossed,
But beneath warm feathers
Something cautioned, "frost."
All the sagging orchards
Steamed with amber spice
But each wild breast stiffened
At remembered ice.
Something told the wild geese
It was time to fly-
Summer sun was on their wings,
Winter in their cry."
Rachel Field
I've already told you a bit about Vicente, a wonderful man I met in Cuba and who I've recently been in contact with again.
Now, of course, I'd like to show him to you.
Here you can see the two of us on a cattle pasture, after I was able to help (I have no idea if I was actually any significant help. I think not) drive the herd to a watering hole.
But for me, it was definitely a great experience and a lot of fun.
Jetzt habe ich Euch ja schon einiges über wundervollen Menschen Vicente erzählt, den ich in Cuba kennenlernen durfte und mit dem ich übrigens seit Kurzem wieder in Kontakt bin.
Nun möchte ich ihn Euch natürlich auch einmal zeigen.
Hier seht ihr uns zwei auf einer Rinderweide, nachdem ich mit helfen durfte (keine Ahnung, ob ich tatsächlich eine nennenswerte Hilfe war. Ich glaube mal eher nein), die Herde zu einer Wasserstelle zu treiben.
Doch für mich war es defintiv eine tolle Erfahrung und hat viel Spass gemacht.
“things only exist if they are told/narrated”
(attributed to Alessandro Baricco);
“le cose esistono solo se vengono raccontate”
(attribuita ad Alessandro Baricco).
POSTER - LOCANDINA –
www.primevideo.com/detail/Oh-Mio-Dio/0FBFGSB0G1HMNXV56F5C...
pad.mymovies.it/filmclub/2018/02/181/locandina.jpg
movieplayer.net-cdn.it/t/images/2018/03/08/oh_mio_dio_car...
----------------------------------------------------------
click to activate the small icon of slideshow: the small triangle inscribed in the small rectangle, at the top right, in the photostream (it means the monitor);
or…. Press the “L” button to zoom in the image;
clicca sulla piccola icona per attivare lo slideshow: sulla facciata principale del photostream, in alto a destra c'è un piccolo rettangolo (rappresenta il monitor) con dentro un piccolo triangolo nero;
oppure…. premi il tasto “L” per ingrandire l'immagine;
www.worldphoto.org/sony-world-photography-awards/winners-...
www.fotografidigitali.it/gallery/2726/opere-italiane-segn...
………………………………………………………
This "photographic story" ideally follows the previous one, for two reasons, first because in this case too, as in the previous story we talk about "angels", they are the "Golden Angels" of San Pier Niceto (in the province of Messina), and second, because this singular and beautiful religious festival, with its procession, also takes place during the Easter period, specifically during "Holy Tuesday". The photographs that I post (not a few, I wish in this way to pay homage to the inhabitants of San Pier Niceto, who can find themselves in these photos, especially for those fathers, mothers, grandfathers, grandmothers, aunts and uncles, in seeing their beloved and very sweet "angels - angiolette"); if you look closely at some of the photographed subjects, you will notice a "temporal disconnect", in fact in some cases, the same girls are present, with two different ages, they will be dressed differently, this is because the photos were taken during Holy Tuesday of 2024 and that of 2025. The temporal sequence of the photographs does not take into account either the year in which they were taken, nor the moments attributable to the phases of the ceremony and subsequent procession.
In San Pier Niceto, on the Peloritani Mountains in Sicily, during the Holy Tuesday takes place the SS. Crucifix procession, whose roots are ancient. The Church of St. James houses and cares for the precious Crucifix, Which is brought to the procession by the streets of the country preceded by very young children, of both sexes, who imitate little Angels, Angels and Grieving young Nuns, dressed in elaborate dresses covered with many gold jewelery, sewn by handy hands that with pins, necklaces , Bracelets and many other gold jewelry applied to their little clothes, they make real works of art whose designs are reminiscent of Easter symbols. Gold for dressing is collected home from home by people who have to melt a "vote", gold that will be returned at the end of the procession. Everything begins during Lent when parents decide to dress their baby by little Angels, Angels or Grieving Nuns .The Little Angels are usually 3 or 4 year olds, the Angels are a little bigger, the Nuns are little young girls. Thus the preparations for the elaboration of the elaborate clothes begin: Parents during Lent are knocking at every door of the country, among friends and relatives, to borrow bracelets, brooches, necklaces and all the gold necessary for the composition of embroidery . The Little Angel's dress is white, short down to the knee, made up of a gold-plated bodice and a skirt with some golden embroidery; Arms are adorned by bracelets, the head is adorned by a collier, small wings (white dove feathers) sprout from behind. The Angels have a white tunic, on which sacred icons are embroidered in gold, the head is covered by a collier, wings lie on their shoulders. The Nun's dress is black, on which are stitched the crowns of the S.S. Rosary, on the head is placed a white veil, held by a rose crown. At 16:30 on Holy Tuesday, a tapping of bells together with the band's fanfare in the village, set off at the "Crucifixion Procession" of San Pier Niceto: at the foot of the Crucifix there are red roses, behind it are located branches of cypress (at the end of the event the faithful will carry with them a piece of cypress as a relic), finally the red ribbons are tied to the arms of the Crucifix, they will mark the procession of the procession until the arrival at the Mother Church, a century church to St. Peter the Apostle, where the celebration of the Holy Mass will take place (the reverse path will bring the SS Crucifix to the Church of St. James): in perfect order the faithful in religious silence, with votive candles in their hands, walk the streets of the country never crossing the red ribbons as they delimit the path of the Golden Little Angels, Angels and the Grieving young Nuns .
Questo "racconto fotografico" segue idealmente il precedente, per due motivi, innanzitutto perchè anche in questo caso, come nel racconto precedente si parla di "angeli", sono "gli Angioletti d'oro" di San Pier Niceto (in provincia di Messina), e secondo, perchè questa singolare e bella festa religiosa, con la sua processione, si svolge anch'essa durante il periodo pasquale, nello specifico durante il "Martedì Santo". Le fotografie che posto (non poche, desidero in tal modo omaggiare gli abitanti di San Pier Niceto, che possano ritrovarsi in queste foto, soprattutto per quei papà, mamme, nonni, nonne, zie e zii, nel rivedere i loro adorati e dolcissimi "angioletti - angiolette"); a ben guardare in alcuni dei soggetti fotografati, si noterà uno "scollamento temportale", infatti in qualche caso, sono presenti le stessi bimbe, con due età diverse, saranno vestite diversamente, questo perchè le foto sono state realizzate durante il Martedì Santo del 2024 e quello del 2025. La sequenza temporale delle fotografie non tiene conto nè dell'anno nel quale sono state realizzate, nè dei momenti ascrivibili alle fasi della cerimonia e successiva processione.
A San Pier Niceto, sui monti Peloritani in Sicilia, durante il Martedì Santo prende vita la processione per le vie del paese del SS. Crocifisso, le cui radici sono antichissime. La Chiesa di San Giacomo ospita e custodisce il pregevole Crocifisso, che viene portato in processione per le vie del paese preceduto da bambini anche molto piccoli, di entrambi i sessi, che impersonano Angioletti ed Addoloratine vestiti con elaboratissimi abiti ricoperti con tantissimi monili d’oro, cuciti dalle mani abili di sarte che con spille, collane, bracciali e tanti altri monili in oro applicati sui loro piccoli vestiti, realizzano vere opere d’arte i cui disegni ricordano simboli pasquali. L’oro per la realizzazione dei vestitini viene raccolto di casa in casa da persone che hanno da sciogliere un “voto”, oro che verrà restituito alla fine della processione. Tutto ha inizio durante la Quaresima, quando dei genitori decidono per “voto” di vestire il proprio bambino da Angioletto, Angiolone o Monachella.
Gli Angioletti sono solitamente bimbi di 3 o 4 anni, gli Angioloni sono un po’ più grandi, le Monachelle sono delle bambine. Così iniziano i preparativi per la realizzazione degli elaboratissimi vestiti: i genitori durante la Quaresima bussano ad ogni porta del paese, tra la cerchia di amici e parenti, per prendere in prestito bracciali, spille, collane e tutto l’oro necessario alla composizione dei ricami. Il vestito degli Angioletti è bianco, corto fino al ginocchio, composto da un corpetto ricoperto d’oro ed una gonna segnata da alcuni ricami d’oro; le braccia sono adornate da bracciali, la testa è adornata da un collier, da dietro le spalle spuntano delle piccole ali (piume di colomba bianca). Gli Angioloni hanno una tunica bianca sulla quale vengono ricamate delle icone sacre in oro, la testa è cinta da un collier, sulle spalle trovano posto delle ali. Il vestito delle Monachelle invece è nero, sul quale vengono cucite delle coroncine del S.S. Rosario, sul capo viene posto un velo bianco, trattenuto da una corona di rose. Alle 16:30 del Martedì Santo un rintocco di campane insieme alla fanfare della banda del paese, danno il via alla “Processione del Crocifisso” di San Pier Niceto: ai piedi della Croce vi sono delle rose rosse, dietro di essa trovano posto dei rami di cipresso (alla fine dell’evento i fedeli porteranno con se un pezzetto di rametto come reliquia), infine dei nastri rossi vengono legati alle braccia del Crocifisso, essi segneranno il percorso della processione, fino all’arrivo al Duomo, una chiesa cinquecentesca dedicata a San Pietro apostolo, ove si terrà la celebrazione della Santa Messa ( il percorso inverso riporterà il S.S. Crocifisso nella Chiesa di San Giacomo): in perfetto ordine i fedeli in religioso silenzio, con ceri votivi in mano, percorrono le vie del paese, non oltrepassando i nastri rossi poiché essi delimitano il percorso degli Angioletti d’oro e delle Addoloratine.
SHE TOLD ME THAT SHE WAS FROM THE PROVINCE OF XIANJU ZHEJIANG (仙居 (xiān jū) AND WEARING THE TRADITIONAL DRESS OF THAT REGION
(BEST SEEN IN FULL SCREEN MODE FOR DETAILS)
A friend told me she saw someone had posted an image of Karel on a wallpaper website. The image was taken from my account without my consent. Browsing through the user's uploads I found pictures I have seen here on Flickr. I sent the moderators a message as I don't want my image on there. There was no credit whatsoever.
I absolutely hate this kind of practise and it makes me want to smack the person in the face (twice). The website states the copyright of the image remains at the owners but who are they kidding really? With no credit and them not checking exif of uploaded data I think they are guilty as f@ck, just as the uploader is. I e-mailed them trying to get the contact info of the guy that uploaded it and used it for a year, so I can invoice and/or sue him.
Make sure to check out his uploads and see if any of your work was stolen too:
In this post I told the story about my last minute pilgrimage to Montana Rail Link on the cusp of its flag lowering: flic.kr/p/2nLhAy6
So continuing with the series featuring one photo of each train in chronological trip order here is the fifteenth train of the trip and the fourth of Day 4. This was also the fourth and last non MRL powered train I'd photograph. An unidentified BNSF manifest rolls west through Billings Yard on MRL's First Subdivision, but the pair of orange GEs are obviously not the focus of this image.
BNSF 6989 is a decade old GE ES44C4 and contrasts greatly with number 84, an EMC SW-1 that is 73 years her senior! The little switcher was built by Electro-Motive Corporation and completed June 15, 1939 on OQrder E259 and was originally Chicago, Burlington and Quincy 9139. It later became Burlington Northern 84 until retired by the BN in November 1975. It then spent another decade on the Davenport, Rock Island and Northwestern until coming to Billings Grain Terminal. Now privately owned by friends of mine, getting to see 84 in person was another reason I wanted to make the trek over to Billings. He and his business partners hope to restore her to operation and eventually find a home on a tourist railroad or museum where she can run. To support the effort and learn more check out this link and even buy yourself a shirt, I've got one!
Billings, Montana
Wednesday September 7, 2022
Last month I had a Flickrmail from a young Californian man called James. He told me that his girlfriend Emmi was studying in Ireland and he was about to travel over to Ireland to meet up with her on St. Patrick's Day. James said that he was planning to propose to Emmi during his visit and wanted my advise on a nice quiet and scenic coastal location in Dublin for the proposal. Wow, talk about putting me under pressure, LOL! After a little thought I suggested the above elevated location in a large parkland at Killiney Hill and gave him detailed directions.
I didn't think I would hear from James again. However earlier this week I got another Flickrmail from a very happy James. He told me that the proposal went very well on Killiney Hill and that they both loved the location! So I'm sure you will all join me in congratulating James and Emmi on their Irish engagement.
I took the above shot a few days ago as a little tribute to the happy couple while I was up for a regular walk on Killiney Hill. The inserts are photos from James and Emmi which they took themselves on Killiney Hill just after the successful proposal. Yes I know the blended image is probably a bit mushy and sentimental...but I'm an incurable romantic, LOL!
You can visit James and Emmi's Irish proposal page photos at www.flickr.com/photos/jamesemmi/page22/
(Reached #167 on Explore)
PARIS-PINTURA-ART-RESTAURANTES-NOCHE-TERRAZAS-TOLDOS-CALLES-PAISAJES-VIDA-PINTOR-ERNEST DESCALS-
Restaurante en Pigalle durante la noche, mucha gente bajo el toldo amarillo con las luces del alumbrado de la ciudad de Paris, paisaje urbano con mucha vida en las calles. Pintura del artista pintor Ernest Descals con los paisajes nocturnos parisinos.
“And as the years flowed by, some villagers told travelers of a beast and a beauty who lived in the castle, and others told of two beauties, and others, of two beasts.” Emma Donoghue.
Legend has it that "Castle Roche" was built in 1236 by Lady Rohesia of Verdun. After the death of her husband, this Norman noble woman, known for her difficult character and fierceness, promised her hand, as well as sharing her wealth with the one who would build her a castle in Roche. Finally, a renowned local architect carried out the work masterfully. The day the castle was finished, after the wedding banquet, the lady asked her new husband to admire his new lands from the window of their magnificent bedroom, once there, she pushed him and he fell into the void dying instantly. Since then, this window has been known as the "murder window".
Whether this story is more or less true, Rohesia was one of the most powerful women in Ireland during the 13th century, and the castle was truly built during her lifetime and control of these lands in County Louth.
Our YouTube Travel Video with Behind the Scenes of this picture:
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“Y con el correr de los años, los lugareños mencionaron a los viajeros sobre una bestia y una bella que vivían en el castillo, y otros hablaron de dos bellas, y otros, de dos bestias.” Emma Donoghue.
Cuenta una leyenda que "Castle Roche" fue construido en 1236 por Lady Rohesia de Verdun. Tras la muerte de su marido, esta doncella normanda, conocida por su difícil carácter y fiereza, prometió su mano, así como compartir sus riquezas con aquel que le construyera un castillo en Roche. Finalmente, un reputado arquitecto local llevó a cabo el trabajo de forma magistral. El día que el castillo se terminó, tras el banquete nupcial, la doncella pidió a su nuevo marido que admirara sus nuevas tierras desde la ventana de sus magníficos aposentos, una vez allí, ésta le empujó y éste se precipitó al vacío muriendo al instante. Desde entonces, esta ventana se conoce como "murder window" (ventana del asesinato).
Sea más o menos cierta esta historia, Rohesia fue una de las mujeres más poderosas de Irlanda durante el siglo XIII, y el castillo realmente se levantó durante su vida y control de estas tierras del Condado de Louth.
Who told me time would ease me of my pain?
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7pvci1hwAx8
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year’s leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year’s bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.
There are a hundred places where I fear
To go — so with his memory they brim.
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell his foot or shone his face
I say, “There is no memory of him here!”
And so stand stricken, so remembering him.
Edna St. Vincent Millay, Collected Poems
Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it.
L.M. Montgomery, The Story Girl
© All rights reserved Anna Kwa. Please do not use this image on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit written permission
Aa told in the caption with this photo: flic.kr/p/2nkd6qE hanging out here was my consolation while waiting in vain for the CRSA local on Delmor Ave. That caption details the history of this busy and fascinating junction on Amtrak's ex PRR Northeast Corridor mainline.
At least there is variety in this section of the NEC, for window trains anyway! Here is another shot in nice evening light while I was hanging out across from MORRIS tower which was built by the Pennsylvania Railroad in 1941 and closed by Amtrak in 1990. Amtrak Boston to Washington Acela train 2169 races west on Main 3 at MP 58.3 on Amtrak's NYP line.
Morrisville, Pennsylvania
Friday April 29, 2022
When I told a friend I'd be visiting Lethbridge, south of Calgary, he said I'd be amazed at the trestle spanning the Oldman River. Words don't describe seeing it after first coming down the hills into town.
I've seen others, the trestle at Mud Lake in eastern Ontario and the trestle at Cherrywood outside Toronto. It doesn't even compare. This trestle was constructed in 1907 to 1909, and is the largest railway structure in Canada and the largest of its type in the world. A modern marvel.
A true story as told by Eric Barker
In 1886, T.H. Tiggerman, Henry Welter, and August Kellenberger were panning for gold in the shallows along this stretch of the Snake River in Wyoming and were found brutally murdered. One victim was shot in the back, and the other two were dispatched by ax blows that stove in their skulls. The assailant – John Tonner, a fourth partner on the mining claim – was apprehended and he claimed self-defense.
Tonner’s trial was held in Evanston, 200 miles to the south. A surgeon visited the scene of the crime to collect forensic evidence, specifically the skulls of the murdered miners. These he prepared on-site, boiling them in a large kettle to clean them for transport. He packed the axe-damaged skulls and brought them back to Evanston to be viewed by the jury; the third skull was left behind. The kettle and the skull are now stored at the Jackson Hole Museum.
Despite the evidence of fatal axe blows on the two skulls presented to the jury back in Evanston, they voted to acquit Tonner, citing the circumstantial nature of the evidence and the lack of eyewitnesses. Upon his release, Tonner fled Wyoming Territory. He hopped on the first train out of Evanston, promising to pay his attorney as soon as he got back on his feet. Apparently, he never did. The citizens of Wyoming Territory viewed the Tonner verdict as a miscarriage of justice, a sentiment that may have encouraged and justified later vigilantism.
BURGOS-PINTURA-ARTE-PLAZA-CATEDRAL-TOLDOS-RESTAURANTES-PAISAJES-PINTOR-ERNEST DESCALS
La Catedral de Burgos en la plaza de Santa María o plaza de la catedral, con los toldos rojos de los restaurantes y un cielo de fuertes tonos azules, pintura de los monumentos burgaleses y el ambiente ciudadano, la CATEDRAL de BURGOS es una de las más bellas de España. Cuadros del artista pintor Ernest Descals sobre papel de 50 x 70 centímetros, pintando en Castilla y León.
You've been told, that I'm the devil
But my blood is your blood
In shame my, my blood stains your hands
You are the murderer of my fire and my sense
You threw me away
What should I do now?
Black halo is given to me
You close your eyes
Now when I need you
This black halo will burn me alive
Burn me alive
You called me, you called me a sinner
You still talk forgiveness
But now your dreams are haunted by your guilt
You threw me away
What should I do now
Black halo is given to me
You close your eyes
Now when I need you
This black halo will burn me alive
Burn me alive
Tie the bind
Here forever we're entwined in dark and light
In shame my blood stains your hands
In shame my blood stains your hands
You threw me away
What should I do now
Black halo is given to me
You close your eyes
Now when I need you
This black halo will burn me alive
Burn me alive
Tie the bind
Here forever we're entwined and I will find you
Like they'll never ever find the way to heaven's light
Told the wife it was time to put up taller fence around the yard or the neighbors would be upset over the activity going on in our yard ;)
It was actually very interesting to watch has the male did a whole dance and prancing about with its chest pushed forwards and wings partially bent back and out and singing a tune for the lucky gal. Once she was happy with his dance, she then lifted her tailfeathers.
The story told of Change Islands, in Newfoundland and Labrador, is that years ago, the two islands were best suited to different seasons. One island was best suited for growing and fishing during the summer months while the other was best suited for surviving the winter months. Hence, each spring and autumn the inhabitants of the area would "change islands". My father grew up in a coastal area and as a boy they would have a place called "winter house", so relocating during the winter months is something I had heard of before.
I told you so...! (Zebra).
Many thanks to everyone who chooses to leave a comment or add this image to their favorites, it is much appreciated.
©Elsie van der Walt, all rights reserved. Please don't use this image on websites, blogs or other media without my explicit permission. If you are interested in using one of my images, please send me an E-mail (elsie.vdwalt@gmail.com).
Everyone told me
Not to stroll on that beach,
Said, "Seagulls gonna come,
Poke me in the coconut, " and they did, and they did.
Instructions are available now: rebrickable.com/mocs/MOC-90205/Miro/seagulls/#parts
It is told that deep in the Enchanted Forest past the grove of Weeping Wyvern, lies a stone hollow. Stone piles of enormous proportion, so ancient that trees and moss grow upon them, stand around a crystal clear pool. Should you return to the hollow after a full moon, the piles will have shifted their place.
Only one such entity has left Stone-Hollow.
Built for the Enchanted Forest Collaboration in 2024
After being told that my original Bridge into the Fire photo was described as too "firey" by a competition judge I've gone back, looked at a few others I took in the same evening, picked one out that was less "firey" and tidied it up a bit. It's going in for the photo clubs next comp so let's hope it does better this time....
A friend told me when I moved to Texas that it was nothing but miles and miles of nothing for miles and miles. Boy was he right! When you drive across Texas, once you're out of the cities, you mostly see ranch land or farm land. There are some interesting spots, but it takes bloody forever to get to them. This corn field with the elevator in the distance pretty much sums up the situation and was taken on the drive out of the pan handle. I do like the minimalism quality to it. Dumas, Texas, USA, July 2020
Best viewed large by pressing "L". All rights reserved
(repost)
That is what the California Highway Patrol officer said.
We were ensconced in an open garage waiting out an armed 211 suspect when those words were spoken.
My call came in at 2:30. A man was barricaded in his apartment after a shootout with police. At the time, I was home sick with a headache the size of the Rock of Gibraltar. But a barricade is a barricade and I threw on some clothes and rushed to the scene.
I stopped at the road closure and was waved through by one of the CHP guys that yelled, “Hey, I know you....go ahead.”
“OK”
After parking the car where the chippy said I should, I asked our esteemed parking enforcement officer (also known as the Parking Nazi) who was standing guard, where was everything happening and where should I go.
He motioned somewhere down the street towards some low-rent apartment complexes and told me to walk on the right side of the street through a vacant lot - nothing but dirt and a creosote bush.
“OK.”
I kept an eye out for what was going on and watched as the guys from the PD’s Special Response Team ( SRT) moved into place.
“Cool,” thought I and grabbed a few shots of one of the guys creeping across the roof, rifle in front of him, pack behind. I thought, “If I get nothing else this will be good art."
I heard people yelling at me and here comes the PIO from the Barstow Police running across the street telling me that hey, I was right in the line of fire and I should like move.
“OK.”
“Don’t go south of the palm tree,” he said, “that way you won’t be in the line of fire.”
“OK. Can I stand behind the palm tree?”
“Sure,” he said, “but I’m not responsible if you get shot.”
“OK”
Seemed to be my thought processes at the time, singular “OK’s”
I stood behind the palm tree for a little bit and then moved — I really wasn’t in the mood to get shot.
The reporter showed up, a radio guy showed up, a small TV station guy showed up and we all sat around in the heat waiting for something to happen....for a long time.
Negotiators were on the phone, relatives got on the phone to try and talk this guy out. The man had been wounded slightly in the first shootout — shot in the hand and the arm — and yelled out to his friends that he was afraid the cops were going to shoot him on sight.
We all knew that this would never happen, but the guy wouldn’t come out. The cops even brought him cigarettes when he asked for them - actually threw them up to him on the balcony. If they had wanted to shoot him, they could have at that time.
I got permission to wander a bit, down in parking area where the CHP rifle shooters were set up — watched them concentrate completely down their black gun sites. I was close enough that if I stuck my head out I could see the guy’s balcony — really, really well — with bloody curtains swaying in the wind.
Time wore on, heat got worse, men got shifted around so as to give the ones sitting in the sun a break.
We waited. Cops gave me Gatorade and water. It was hot.
As dusk set in I kept hoping this guy would come out with his hands up while I still had light to shoot by. Even with my new digital camera (YEA!) I was still a newbie at using the flash in low light situations so I wanted halfway good light.
I simply couldn’t figure out why this guy would NOT come out.
Was it the macho mentality of the whole gang banger personality? Was it that he knew he was facing some major jail time? He was already a loser in that department. What possibly could be worth prolonging this stand-off?
Time wore on some more. The apartment complex residents started getting restless. Hoots and hollers and jungle-like monkey noises came from the apartments and from those watching and waiting behind the lines. A bottle was thrown.
I have to admit, this made a me a tad nervous. I could just see this thing erupting into an all-out riot. Half the people in the complex were convinced the cops were going to gun the guy down and the other half were afraid of the first half.
Soon the cops had enough waiting and started firing tear gas canisters into the apartment. Oh my! Horrible sound those loud guns. Once that tear gas thing started I didn’t stick my head out any more. I crouched down behind a car. I could still see the CHP shooters but wasn’t in the line of fire.
Good thing.
Several minutes after the first rounds of tear gas were volleyed into the apartment there came three quick shots - pop - pop - pop — out the sliding glass door — over the balcony.
“Holy shit,” thought I, “that guy is firing at us.”
“Hey,” I yelled, “Was he shooting this way.”
“Yes, Lara, he was shooting this way.”
I crouched down lower. Just about fully dark now. The people that had come out to watch were yelling the guy was yelling babies were screaming and one Barstow cop remarked, “I can’t believe these people brought their kids out to a gunfight.”
Law enforcement did not return gun fire but more tear gas was used.
Still no sound, no reaction from the barricaded man.
One of the CHP guys came back down into our spot and said that after the three rounds fired by the suspect, one more shot was heard a few minutes later - muffled. Not aimed out the sliding glass door — inside the building.
He said quietly that he had heard _that_ sound before.
Time was starting to lose meaning. Amidst the noise and chaos I had been on the phone relaying the latest developments to the reporter who had gone back to write his story. More tear gas was lobbed into the building but the feeling was that the man had offed himself with that final fourth shot.
My deadline to leave was fast approaching — close to 9 p.m. I had the images from the afternoon’s deployment and some close-ups of the guys close to me. But no resolution. No closure.
The crowd up the street was really starting to turn ugly and I debated going up to photograph that, but figured that a camera flashing would trigger the already riotous behaviour that was growing.
Two guys threw bottles at the sheriff’s SWAT team. Ooooh, not a good idea. Those SWAT-dudes are bad-asses with attitudes and guns. They do NOT take kindly to being pelted with bottles. The bottle-throwers were arrested and the crowd scene cooled after that.
No lights were on in the apartment, no movement was seen and all negotiations had long since broken off. The man’s last words and comments to the negotiator were pretty much that the only way he was going to leave was in a body bag.
I still hoped not, but I left to file my art. Before I left the center of the action, which is where I had been allowed to stay (don’t ask me why, I was just allowed to stay.) I made sure the police chief and one of the LT’s knew I was returning and wanted to be back close to where things were happening.
“Sure.” they said, “Just show your press pass, tell whoever we said it was ok and come on back - stay out of the line of fire.”
“OK”
I left, filed the creeping-across-the-roof pic and one of two officers and a bullet proof shield and came back.
Things were as I left them — no more noise, no more nothing.
About 11 p.m. the sheriff's office took over. The Barstow PD SRT and CHP back-ups had been on duty squinting down their sites for almost 8 hours, it was time for a relief team.
I watched the camouflaged SWATs come in, dash about the courtyard smashing out the remaining lights that would put them in danger and get into place, covering each other with guns pointed toward the apartment as they ran across the courtyard.
I couldn’t help myself, I thought “Jeez, this is just like in the movies.” Only this time it was for real — surrealistic, but real.
When the Barstow guys and CHP left I was still standing there all by my lonesome. One of them yelled back at me, “You probably ought to come out too.”
“OK.”
That seemed like a good idea to me — it was dark and I didn’t like being alone.
I came up out of the garage hole and plopped down on the front of a fire truck. Sheriff’s homicide detectives were wondering who the hell was I and why was I there. I smiled, introduced myself and sat back quietly on the fire engine, hoping that no one would actually notice me. I even put my camera down.
The sheriff’s Captain saw me, smiled and let me stay. I was now considered a “friendly.” Cool.
I had kept in contact with the night editor at our sister paper, even after the Dispatch went to bed, did some interviewing, got the correct on-the-record-quotes that supported the police’s version of what happened and waited — and waited.
For almost an hour after the SO took over a deputy called out over a loud speaker. “Aaron. Come out with your hands up. The building is surrounded.” Every few minutes for almost an hour. Over and over. The same tone of voice. No emotion. It could have been a computerized recording it was so precisely repeated, but it wasn’t.
Aaron didn’t come out.
Talking time was up and the SWAT team started in with more powerful tear gas. Volley after volley. No Aaron. He was either immune to the gas or dead.
Soon the team took out the doors and entered the building using flash-bang devices before going into each room - “auditory and visual distractions” they call them.
Hell honey, those are bombs.
Every time they said over the radio they were setting off another one, all the law enforcement guys, suits, SWAT dudes, everybody around me, put their fingers in their ears. I wish I had photographed that, but it is hard to hold a camera with your fingers in your ears.
Time moved faster, soon after the SWAT guys entered they called for the SO medics that had flown in on a chopper. Word came out fast that it was over, Aaron was dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.
It was one o’clock in the morning. There was almost a palpable sigh, a slumping of the shoulders when it was over. I had been at the scene for almost ten hours.
It was not a good resolution. Not the one that everyone; law enforcement, medics, firefighters, friends and family had hoped for.
I remembered what the CHP shooter said after word came in about the fourth shot — “We are in a stand-off with a dead man.”
He was right.
•••••••••••••
Rest in Peace Aaron
Momma told me to look into my sole and accept de feet. I finally have. De feet is where we all learn what we're made of.
And here's some appropriate music for those of you into chicken feet!
They told me the best price for gas was this way. Low and behold the price on the sign was cheap but there was nobody here. There hasn't been anyone here in decades.