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A pair of FORD two-door coupes on display at the annual "All USA" car show.
(1 of 2) A beautiful 1956 Ford Victoria.
(2 of 2) 1967 Ford Mustang GT500.
Queanbeyan, New South Wales, Australia.
Sometimes I have to dig into the archives for stuff to post - life has just been very hectic of late.
This shot may seem familiar. It was part of the article I wrote about Through the Viewfinder photography for JPG Magazine in their Embrace the Blur issue.
New neighbors sifting through stuff they decided they didn't want, placed side by side in front of the house out on the street. The chairs were gone in a couple of hours.
Little Canadian goslings. They're not very water proof yet. The down takes a lot of cleaning after being in the water.
Two rows of Hornbeams line a walk at the grounds of Kew Palace within the Botanic Gardens
Tree-mendous Tuesday
Good morning everyone. Just two quick pics of Red-shouldered Hawks (Buteo lineatus). The one on the left being a juvenile I photographed back in mid October and posted a few pics around the same time.
The one on the right is a mature adult that I photographed a few days ago. Not sure why it was on the ground at the time, but my guess is it missed an opportunity to catch some prey. Most likely a chipmunk.
I posted both pics for better viewing in the comment section and my stream. The the bird on the left was much closer at the time I photographed it and as a result is a much better pic as far as clarity. The one of the adult bird was taken at a much greater distance and with less available light due to a heavy overcast. As a result it's not as clear and sharp as the pic of the juvenile due to a higher ISO and more cropping.
Thank you for stopping by...and I hope you're having a truly nice week.
Lacey
A treasured gift from my sweetheart. Like the two of us, they are close even when they're far apart. I miss you...
The one on the right is a Boreal Chickadee that I have seen it for the first time (Life Bird# 451). The one on the left is a friendly Black-capped Chickadee that is abundant in our area. Because of large color variation the Boreal Chickadee was very easy to pick up from a large group of Black-capped Chickadee that it was hanging out with. Note how the white patch on its cheek is so much smaller than the Black-capped. Darlington Provincial Park, Durham, Ontario
Oregon Dunes and
Siuslaw National Forest
Oregon, USA
"There are several Oregon landscapes that look alien, so different from our typical experience, or else so similar to those depicted on other planets in the movies.
As it happens, science fiction writer Frank Herbert first imagined the alien worlds of his classic novel, "Dune", while on a tour of the Oregon Dunes, marveling at how the ever-shifting sands could "swallow whole cities, lakes, rivers, highways."
- Oregonian, Jamie Hale
DSC05546
Found these two sitting in the Great Falls yard this evening. I've shot and posted pics of 12066 before, but this was the first time I've seen the other one.
This shot gets me to thinking, what does one call multiple cars of this sort? Caboosi? Cabeese?
Canon EOS 350D Digital Rebel XT
Tamron AF 75-300mm lens
“You never know beforehand what people are capable of, you have to wait, give it time, it’s time that rules, time is our gambling partner on the other side of the table and it holds all the cards of the deck in its hand, we have to guess the winning cards of life, our lives.” ~ José Saramago
Here we have the front of the pocket watch open showing you all its glory.
I've been taking a wee bit of down time away from laptop as I do need that wee break when spending so many hours everyday, 7 days a week (I get internet burn out...lol). Anyway I took some pictures in my garden and got some macro pictures of these two Bees? (or are they flies?). I assume they are making out but not sure, I could have got as close as I wanted as they weren't moving, too engrossed in what they were doing. I actually didn't take too many pictures as I thought they were dead when they didn't move no matter how close I got but they did fly away when I checked back a short time later. Glad they did as I don't think I could have looked at pictures of them if they were dead.
The picture is a bit too dark....Look at the newest phots of this hare at lalootka's attic to see what transformation she had through.
So happy together. Two lambs overlooking the landscape of the Isle of Terschelling (NL) View Awards Count
Two girls sit on a bench by a small lake, waiting for their boyfriends. The girls are 12. The boyfriends are the first they’ve really had.
Like the girls, the boys are friends. They’ve become a foursome. And today they’re all skipping school together.
It’s November. The wind off the lake is chilly, the grass around it brown and matted, clumped with goose poop and dotted here and there with bits of garbage. Fast food wrappers, empty cigarette packs, old Kleenexes, beer cans – glisten dully around the bench in the weak winter light.
One of the girls lights a cigarette, inhales extravagantly… waves a hand in front of her face to dissipate the smoke from her match. Tosses the match on the ground by the bench. Stares at the lake.
She’s the older-looking one. The more mature one. She has breasts and hips and long shiny hair.
The other girl is still awkward, skinny, flat chested, hipless. Worried that her curvy friend – who she has known since kindergarten – will one day abandon her.
They’ve been friends forever, it seems. And they were always equals. But now, time is taking them in different directions. The skinny girl doesn't like it. Not one bit. But what can she do? She is trapped... helpless. She cannot stop puberty.
“Give me a cigarette,” the skinny girl says.
The curvy girl makes a face like “What? Are you serious?” Turns to the skinny girl, blinks a few times rapidly and blows out a long blue plume into the damp air.
“But you don’t smoke,” says the curvy girl.
“Maybe I want to start,” says the skinny girl, wondering… even as she says this… what the hell she’s thinking. She’s repulsed by cigarettes. Has tried them a few times and ended up sick. Still.
She feels that smoking is a visible sign of aging; of sophistication. It’s one of the few things that sets her apart from the curvy girl – and is within her control. She cannot make her breasts grow or her hair shine or her pimples disappear (although she does her best to cover them). But, if she smokes, she figures, she will look more mature.
So she takes a cigarette. Holds it in her mouth while the curvy girl strikes a match and lights it. Even before she inhales, the skinny girl has a mouthful of awful.
The cigarette has a rank, dirty chemical taste. Like insecticide. The girl tries not to breathe through her nose as she sucks in the smallest possible amount of hot, acrid smoke.
The girls make small talk. They’ve known each other so long they’re able to communicate in something like a code. It consists of single syllables, of grunts, of gestures… any one of which can send them into fits of doubled-over, can't-breathe laughter.
There on the bench… just the two of them… it’s almost as though they’re still little girls. And the skinny one almost wishes they were… that they weren’t growing up; that their bodies weren’t changing; that they didn’t have boyfriends now.
In truth, she doesn’t like her boyfriend. Never would have chosen him; is really only seeing him because her friend and his friend are boyfriend-girlfriend.
In truth, some part of her is not-so-secretly in love with her curvy, mature-looking friend.
She’s been reading up on adolescence in the library. She has read that girl-girl crushes are common at this age; that they don’t mean anything; that, given time, her interest in boys will develop.
She wishes it would hurry up. She’s tired of pretending to like the boyfriend’s sloppy wet attempts at passion. She goes along with it only because, this way, she gets more time with her friend. And when she is alone at night, remembering their double dates, it’s not the boyfriend she thinks about.
“Where the hell are those guys?” the curvy girl asks, looking at the time on her cell phone. The boyfriends are late. The four of them were meant to meet here half an hour ago.
It’s cold by the lake. The girls huddle in their coats, hands in pockets, breath making clouds.
By the time the man approaches them, they have almost given up on the boyfriends arriving at all.
(to be continued)