China Airlines Boeing B777-300(ER) B-18007

Quite a luck with the Boeing Dreamliner colors China Airlines, only made it with 10min to spare in amsterdam unknowing which runway would be given to this one.

AMS, July-2019

Created for Happy smile on Saturday theme = dutch angle.

I don't have any training in photography but I've been using this technique without knowing it! lol.. It was interesting to learn about it. I've even unknowingly used this technique while making handmade cards.

Thanks Maria for having this as the theme. Had fun with it. ;-) HSoS!! :-)

Hope folks are doing well this summer and getting through the covid as best they can. The heat's starting to get a bit oppressive, but thank goodness for A/C. I've made it out a couple of evenings recently to the Draper Wildlife Management sunflower site...and I quickly remembered how frustrating it can be shooting in that sun, dripping with sweat, swatting away bugs and waiting for the light to get a bit better. All that said, it was still good to get out and shoot a bit. The first trip wasn't very successful as I let the frustration get to me. I happened to be shooting and unknowingly hit Lock button/slider on my camera and couldn't change my exposure compensation. That was the final tipping point and I headed home early. Of course on my way home, I figured I had to have hit that button that I'd never knocked in 7 years. The second trip was a bit more successful as I was able to capture this image that I ilked. There's something about shooting into that hazy, evening sunlight that appeals to me. It also didn't help that the wide-angle shot wasn't possible, as the spot where I'd picked from the past trip...the sunflowers had died off. Anyway....I do hope everyone is having an enjoyable summer....and have a great weekend!

The sun was low when we left the Death Valley. The sun cast nice shadows on the Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes, when we took shots from a distance with a long lens. Two people posted for us unknowingly and serendipitously.

I processed a photographic, a balanced, and a paintery HDR photo from two RAW exposures, blended them selectively, and carefully adjusted the color balance and curves. I welcome and appreciate constructive comments.

Thank you for visiting - ♡ with gratitude! Fave if you like it, add comments below, like the Facebook page, order beautiful HDR prints at qualityHDR.com.

-- ƒ/8.0, 210 mm, 1/400, 1/1600 sec, ISO 200, Sony A6000, SEL-55210, HDR, 2 RAW exposures, _DSC9624_5_hdr2pho1bal1pai5p.jpg

-- CC BY-NC-SA 4.0, © Peter Thoeny, Quality HDR Photography

M216 is seen traveling through the tree tunnel at Laugherty creek, just barely losing the race it was unknowingly competing in against us to get here.

Hi Mary:

Your nesting pictures are beautiful....but. I never take a nesting picture. I do it for the same reason some publications ban those pictures. I think Flickr should do the same as well. Here is the reason:

Nesting shots look beautiful. They attract viewer's attention. They are comparatively easy to shoot, once you know the nest location. So a ban on nesting images may look unfair to some. It is indeed unfair to photographers who are robbed of a chance to showcase their talent. But to the birds, it is lease of life itself!

Nesting is the most critical time in a bird's life. Right from the nest-building activity up to the time when their offspring have left the nest for good, the birds are quite sensitive to intrusions. Birds are known to abandon their nests & eggs if they feel threatened. Shooting nesting images can reveal the nest's camouflaged location or lead predators to the nest.

Therefore shooting a nest picture is fraught with danger for the birds. Publishing a nest picture is even more trouble for the poor birds because many others can get 'motivated' to shoot such nice image! Even if the photographer does not reveal location of the nest while publishing the image, some local photographers can always guess it. You are not the only birder in your town, are you?

I Have Taken Precautions!

We see some photographers argue that they have taken sufficient precautions while shooting a nesting image. That they have used covers & hides, have kept safe distance, they did not harm the birds or their surroundings. We of course respect their claims, but do not have the means to verify any of such claims. At least some percentage of such claims are likely to be false. The photographer may have caused harm either knowingly or unknowingly. Therefore we have no alternative but to ban all nesting images without prejudice to the photographer's integrity and expertise.

When in Doubt...

Sometimes, it may not be crystal clear from an image whether it is a nesting pic or not. The photographer claims it is not, but other experienced birders think it might be a nesting pic. The bird should always get benefit of doubt in such cases. The photographer can click thousand other images and post them on any forum. Photographer won't lose much even if he/she removes one image. But the bird stands to lose a lot if it is a nesting site.

So the photographer will not lose much if he/she willingly removes such doubtful image from the forum, if it is suspected of being a nesting image. On the contrary the member will earn respect from a sincere community of birders. The community will be thankful to him/her for not putting his/her ego before the birds' welfare.

So We Delete...

In cases where the member fails to remove such image due to any reason, the admins may decide to delete it from the forum. Such deletion should not be taken as admin's disapproval of claims (of precaution or of the pic being not a nesting) made by the member. The image may be deleted simply to err on side of birds' welfare, rather than a member's right of posting content. The deletion is not a comment on integrity & expertise of the member.

Some of you are very kind, reading the lengthy diversions I accompany my images with, much of it totally irrelevant to the shot itself. I'm not really sure I can drag another story out of Saturday evening to be honest. But you know I'm ready to give it a go. As I walked at an almost Olympian pace to the spot I'd planned to spend the last hours of daylight on, I watched the light spreading over St Ives on the other side of the bay, hanging dreamily over the distant town and illuminating it in a haze of yellow light. I'd tried a rarely used shortcut to get here, which proved a mistake and cost me the minutes that made me know I was going to miss the moment. Why on earth I have these occasional aberrations of the mental satnav I really can't explain - without exception they always fail. As I set up my tripod the sun appeared from behind the clouds which until that moment had brought a lovely diffused sky over to the west and I cursed myself for missing the moment.

I moved my tripod to a spot further along the cliff, exchanging a few words with a chap who'd come to stand on the clifftop and watch the sky change. "Looking promising!" he suggested as he watched me straighten my tripod, possibly looking a bit nonplussed as this grumpy old man complained he'd missed the light he'd been watching as he strode the mile or so along the path from the car park.

Of course I was wrong to grumble. I should have known that a healthy mixture of rain and sun would bring an evening sky like this. I zoomed in on the lighthouse alone and ignored the setting sun, which would have only resulted in a whole heap of lens flare on the left hand side of the image. After all I'm not sure that a collection of red and green blotches is what photographers mean when they refer to the concept of balance in an image. I looked at the 3 inch screen before me and smiled.

And so for a few minutes the sun lit the side of Godrevy lighthouse as fiercely as I've ever seen it. As my unknowing guru Mr Nigel Danson so often likes to say, "It doesn't get any better than this."

Known colloquially as the starfish flower for obvious reasons , Stapelias originate in South Africa and typically have 5 pointed, very interesting looking flowers. This is a purple variety of Stapelia grandiflora. Stapelia's main insect pollinator are flies and therefore they unfortunately have a smell like decaying meat. However this was great fun when I was a kid asking unknowing friends and relatives to smell it.

This squirrel was looking for food and unknowingly wandered into the territory of this Peacock. It got a litle confused when the Peacock gave his feathers a good shake. After tens of seconds it managed to figure out the escape route - towards the photographer !

What was rather unknowingly the last 9 to use Pall Mall

“And it’s my birthday too!” I added needlessly but truthfully. Even I could hear how pathetic that sounded as the worlds tumbled uncontrollably from my mouth. People need to know it’s your special day when you’re seven, not in your late fifties. I was only adding to what was already probably a gentle sense of concern in the eyes of my rescuers, all of whom were decades younger than me. “What a strange, hapless old man,” they probably thought, and were only prevented from saying by their own politeness. “Happy birthday!” came a small volley in response. “It would have been a shame to get lost on your birthday.” Until that moment I’d almost forgotten what day it was – and staggering to a lonely death in plunging temperatures at an altitude of over eleven hundred metres above sea level didn’t seem the best way to mark the occasion.

Ten minutes earlier, I was confident I’d find the way back to the car easily enough; despite it having disappeared completely from view three hours beforehand, I’d only wandered two or three hundred metres at most. Five minutes after this, I was approaching the early stages of panic. What light there was had started to fade as the thick fog that hung over every inch of my world darkened slightly, giving me no indication of exactly where I was. There was no discernable path that I could see. I was in no doubt that I’d walked past the big lone tree earlier, but I couldn’t remember exactly where from. I was sure I’d had the fence to my left, but now there was more than one fence to choose from. Maybe it had been on my right side after all? I had passed a group of three small benches, but now they appeared to have been removed by the local council while I’d roamed the trees, pointing my camera at every shape that loomed out of the fog and into the viewfinder. While the five layers I was wearing and the continual wandering around had stopped me getting cold, Bill Bryson’s tales of hypothermia induced insanity in “A Walk in the Woods” appeared at the forefront of my mind. If I didn’t find the car, or the road before darkness fell, I was going to be in trouble. Again, I studied my phone; there’s a place at home where I always get lost and where Google Maps always sets me right again – but we weren’t in Ladock Wood at the moment and the location service on my phone was still firmly of the opinion that I was at the bottom of the mountain in Ribeira da Janela. And why had I left my head torch in the top flap of the suitcase? Hadn’t I specifically brought it on this holiday for these moments I’d spend blundering around in the dark? The truth was we’d only gone a little way up the hill six hours earlier for a pastel da nata and a cup of coffee in the café that had been recommended to us. The rest had crept upon us, slowly and certainly as we headed further up the mountainside and disappeared into the mist, so far in fact that Fanal became the obvious destination.

And what a destination it was too for that matter. Under its white shroud it delivered everything and more that I’d hoped for. Six hundred year old Laurel trees, each of them distinct from the others, each of them full of character, shaped and bent by the elements over time. Every one of them cloaked in gowns of dark moss and an abundance of tiny green ferns. Like the proverbial seven year old in the sweet shop I lost all sense of time and meaning as I immersed myself in a landscape like none I’d ever seen before. An intimate and compact landscape where only what was visible existed, and what I couldn’t see was irrelevant. Specimens such as Treebeard here seemed as though they might uproot themselves at any time and tread away into the fog to converse with old friends. Over the nearly eight years since photography became something more than holiday snaps, a handful of places that I’d probably never otherwise thought of visiting had stood out in my mind as the memorable ones, and now Fanal Forest had crashed the party and joined the A list. I can only wonder at what the fog was hiding from me; what I might have seen on a clear day. Somewhere nearby there’s a lake, but for now it remained undiscovered somewhere down the slope. It begs me to return - I like having reasons to go back to places.

But as I took my last shots and eventually persuaded myself that it really was time to go and find Ali, who was waiting in the car with the novel she’d picked up from the shelf in the house where we were staying, I realised that I wasn’t quite sure which way I’d come. With the shroud tightening around me, the knot of woodland between the car and I had disappeared completely, and the big lone tree was the only marker that I was certain of. If I could find the road I’d be ok – it would just be a case of walking up the hill a bit – but what I wasn’t sure of, was whether there were any nasty surprises lying in wait. Madeira is full of enormous vertical cliffs and I wasn’t certain of what lay out of sight. I set out from the big tree a second time, then a third and a fourth, before returning to what I knew. And then I saw the figures, grey shapes moving through the landscape ahead of me – five of them chattering away happily to each other; very probably the group I’d silently cursed an hour earlier as they’d posed for selfies in the middle of the composition I was eyeing up. With no idea what language I was listening to, I raced along behind them, calling out to my unknowing saviours.

We were in a car park now. Not the one we’d pulled up at earlier in the day, but at least I now knew where the road was, and finding my way back was assured. There’s only one road up here after all. I began to walk along it but the rescuers called out through the darkness, insisting they drive me back to my car. One American among them, the rest were from Slovenia, a country full of mountains. I guessed they knew what they were about in a place such as this then. I was glad I’d found them – full of kindness and friendship. Within minutes I had been returned to my car, where Ali had given up reading and begun to wonder whether she’d ever see me again. I thanked my new friends gushingly and waved until their cars disappeared down the track into the approaching night. Maybe I was being melodramatic – I’d probably have found my way back eventually, but for fleeting moments I was definitely beginning to get worried. As birthdays go in middle age, it had been the most memorable one in years; a bit of a close shave, something that I hope never happens to Treebeard here - he'd lose something of himself I'm sure you'll agree.

A few days later we returned to Fanal after walking the nearby Levada do Risco, where it had been clear and sunny. Again, ending up here was inevitable, and this time we thought we would have very different conditions. Yet as we crept down the slope, glimpsing the one and only cloud inversion of our fortnight through the windscreen at a spot with nowhere to stop as we did, the fog rolled in again. This time I parked in the big car park and made certain of my journey into the mystical forest. This time I took photographs on my phone to show me the way back. This time I tore myself away before darkness fell, and I found the car without the help of a team of mountain guides.

“Here is a town to shame the world,” wrote William L Shirer of Ljubljana, the Slovenian capital in March 1937. “It is full of statues and not one of them a soldier. Only poets and thinkers have been so honoured.” It was a paragraph that struck me profoundly and stayed with me when I read it, and ever since I did so nearly twenty years ago, I resolved to one day visit Slovenia. Maybe it’s time now. Maybe I’ll watch my step in the mountains and make sure I’ve packed my bivvy bag.

I hope you have a lovely weekend, and I hope for your own wellbeing you meet some Slovenians along the way to guide you if you're in the hills lost in fog.

Now here’s a shot I’ve been wanting to repeat since 2020. Back during the early days of the pandemic, I unknowingly caught this job with three H3 Geeps at this exact spot while spending a Monday out foaming. Being the idiot I was, I didn’t bother chasing it. I spent the next year researching the local trying to figure out when it ran to no luck. Finally, another railfan gave me some tips on this job in March of 2021, allowing me to finally catch it yet again, and gather enough evidence to get a decently reliable schedule down. While following todays train I decided a shot here would be pretty minty, and damn I was right.

worlds within worlds . . .

"Only those who truly love and who are truly strong can sustain their lives as a dream. You dwell in your own enchantment. Life throws stones at you, but your love and your dream change those stones into the flowers of discovery. Even if you lose, or are defeated by things, your triumph will always be exemplary. And if no one knows it, then there are places that do. People like you enrich the dreams of the worlds, and it is dreams that create history. People like you are unknowing transformers of things, protected by your own fairy-tale, by love."

~ Ben Okri ~

Zoom in at you own risk. She's covered in lint!!

I've been busy a couple of days, photographing all the faces of my Hasbro Sindy dolls, trying to figure out who's who and how many duplicates I've managed to collect unknowingly.

Turns out not so many duplicates, but oh dear I have plenty of singles! Hasbro spat out a whole pack of blondes each year and I have almost all from 1989 to 1992, then one here and there all the way into the Vivid Imaginations era.

This is my first and ONLY black Sindy... er friend. Her name is Imani and yes, I have washed her, the lint came from nowhere.

Article from Darren Di Lieto's blog...

I was surprised and alarmed to find out today that the book pictured above had been printed in China featuring the work of myself and many other well respected artists. It seems that the Chinese publishing company in question (based out of Hong Kong) has completely plagiarized all of the artist interviews which have appeared over the last couple of years on The Little Chimp Society website out of England (run by Darren Di Lieto) and published all of the images and interviews verbatim. And they're now selling books of the works for $100 a pop!! This kind of shit needs to stop. Below is a link to Darren's blog and the text from his blog discussing this crime.

Last week a British illustrator called Jonathan Edwards informed me that he had come across a book that contained his illustrations along with other illustrators work. He contacted me because the book is also riddled with interviews that he recognized as being the interviews I conducted for the LCS.

Today I received a copy of the book (costing me $100) and to my horror it has plagiarized the art blog. This has left me deeply upset!

Colorful Illustrations 93°C

This has not only hurt me… The book is available online and in book stores and every image in it has been stolen from my community website and the websites of the illustrators featured - with the interviews being the backbone of the publication. Before anyone asks - the internet is publicly accessible not public domain, copyright still applies.

“The worrying thing is all images are included on a CD in the back. This seems to give the impression that all the featured images are clip-art or copyright free which is certainly not the case.” - Jonathan Edwards

The images file-names on the CD have not even been renamed in anyway, so you can see exactly where they were taken from. The interviews are word for word with all the typos and switching between English and American grammar. Also according to the Book the interviews were produced by the Art Director Bernadette • J with no reference to the LCS.

Personally this has hurt me as I’ve spent the last three years building the archive of Artist interviews on the LCS. But what has really made me angry is that all that work included in the book has been stolen from the illustrators involved with some of them even being credited for work that is not their own. I am sure some of them won’t care much, but others will and will want retribution. Someone has made a lot of money from this book and it wasn’t me or the unknowing contributors. So please do not buy it!

If you think you can help here is some additional information.

Art Director/Producer: Bernadette J

Graphic Design: Malcolm Lee

published by Great Creativity organization

ISBN 978-988-98142-0-5

12/F Chinachem Johnston Plaza Wan

178-186 Johnston Road

chia, Hong Kong

T:+85281324106

F:+85281324105

I’m currently in the process of contacting the included illustrators, to let them know they’ve been ripped-off. Please note I’ve already tried to find the publishers via the internet and even called them to find out the number is for a company called Lucky Enterprise Co., Ltd. who make air filters. Also I’ve tried to contact the retailers, but I don’t think any of them will get back to me as they’re all only sales people. Index Book were helpful enough to give me the website of the place they purchased the books from for resale - Azur. But when I’ve tried phoning them on +81-3-3292-7601 I hit a brick wall because I don’t speak Japanese (maybe someone can help me with that).

I’ve been in contact with the AOI to get legal advice, but I think at the end of the day I or the illustrators who have had their copy-stolen will not be able to do much about this situation without major backing or support. So if you’re a major organization or copyright lawyer email me… darren at lcsv4 dot com

Darren's post about it on his blog...

apefluff.com/colorful-illustrations-93c-please-do-not-buy...

And I've put up a gallery so you can see for yourself...

apefluff.com/ci93/

The page with our stolen work....

apefluff.com/ci93/main.php?g2_itemId=296

"We are the willing, led by the unknowing, doing the impossible for the ungrateful, and have been doing so much with so little for so long that we are now qualified to do anything with nothing."

McMaster University, Faculty of Engineering, Class of 2020.

I was an engineer once. I like that I can fix things however...

A young tree out in my field on Friday. The sun was shining and the tree seemed so peaceful and unknowing.

I used the app Glaze for the paint effect, after beefing up the colors and stuff.

HAPPY SLIDER SUNDAY!!

Under the bowered greenwood tree

when first I lay

bright starre with Thee

Under the velvet branches dear

when sun and moon both came so near

Under the starlit open dome

under the starsharp pointed lights

under the starloved greeny earth

when first I wanted to hold You

and all the world halfdead and halflive

spat into my mouth

bluesea bitterwater

and I am almost dead

and I have not understood

Under the rain and teeth of gods

under the pain and sleeping liddy eyes

under the brokkèd wetful heaven

If you are there

If you are there

If you are there

then I am singing with my eyes

If you are there

JUSTICE

Film: 35mm Slide film CR100. I think the brand was Lomography but I don't know what actual film manufacturer it is/was. I think possibly Fuji.

Recently scanned Image from back catalog of negatives/positives. I don't recall the date.

Camera: I think a Canon SLR Body and probably a Canon Lens. Which model I don't remember. I didn't write it down back then.

No Crop. No Filter. No Post Editing.

Lab developed.

It was completely random that the one shot i took, ready, waiting, unknowingly, of the next person to walk by/between the huts had a blue jumper on as well. Moments like that with candid film photography make you smile don't they. I love when coincidental things like this happen.

September 9, 2023 - Lexington Nebraska

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Early September 2023...

Gear Packed & Primed! Drove west from Kearney out to Lexington Nebraska area. Once the warnings started to fire out in West Central Nebraska. It was time to do my thing. It was to see one of the last supercells of the summer of 2023 & I wasn't gonna miss out. This truly had incredible, beautiful structure. Was tornado warned & had all the right elements for what I do.

No I didn't see a Tor-nader that day. I got a few snaps of what I think was a wall cloud to the cell northwest of my location.

I was there for the structure & I got those incredible snaps... It is what I came for!

*** PERSONAL NOTE***

I travel a lot of roads LESS TRAVELED than most in Nebraska due to what I do. After the Lexington Nebraska event.. I had to shoot back a few miles due my proximity to the storm.

As I traveled west then south from Overton Nebraska .. Via Nebraska Road "748" heading west. My normal spot was taken due to harvesting from the farmers. Cows were in my favorite spot. So a drove a few miles to the west. I had been by here about 1000+ times but never realized there there was an historical marker here.

So unknowingly, as I pulled into this little area with no power-lines I found a new place to take snaps but it has some historical value. Thought I would add this link for those of you that are curious about this Famous Nebraska Historical Marker.

The Plum Creek Massacre

Click Here

*****************

*** Please NOTE and RESPECT the Copyright ***

© Dale Kaminski @ NebraskaSC Photography - All Rights Reserved

This image may not be copied, reproduced, published or distributed in any medium without the expressed written permission of the copyright holder.

#ForeverChasing

#NebraskaSC

That must be the place that inspires Poe

Taken at *Innsmouth HP Lovecraft Tribute

From even the greatest of horrors irony is seldom absent. Some times it enters directly into the composition of the events, while sometimes it relates only to their fortuitous position among persons and places. The latter sort is splendidly exemplified by a case in the ancient city of Providence, where in the late forties Edgar Allan Poe used to sojourn often during his unsuccessful wooing of the gifted poetess, Mrs. Whitman. Poe generally stopped at the Mansion House in Benefit Street - the renamed Golden Ball Inn whose roof has sheltered Washington, Jefferson, and Lafayette - and his favourite walk led northward along the same street to Mrs. Whitman's home and the neighbouring hillside churchyard of St. John's whose hidden expanse of eighteenth-century gravestones had for him a peculiar fascination.

Now the irony is this. In this walk, so many times repeated, the world's greatest master of the terrible and the bizarre was obliged to pass a particular house on the eastern side of the street; a dingy, antiquated structure perched on the abruptly rising side hill, with a great unkept yard dating from a time when the region was partly open country. It does not appear that he ever wrote or spoke of it, nor is there any evidence that he even noticed it. And yet that house, to the two persons in possession of certain information, equals or outranks in horror the wildest phantasy of the genius who so often passed it unknowingly, and stands starkly leering as a symbol of all that is unutterably hideous.

from the Shunned House by H.P. Lovecraft, 1924

More floating flowers from the artificial pond, this time a pair of Camellias. I don't think they ended up there on their own, so thanks to the random stranger that unknowingly set up this for me!

Flower 13/100 for the project "100 flowers 2025"

The girl who unknowingly would become the most looked at woman in human history.Not such good news for an introvert. Lisa via Pixabay, Background model via Unsplash

Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop

Deep beneath the surface layers of the Veil, beyond time-slick roots and memory-laced fogs, lies the Hollow Confluence — a spiraling, endless current where all forgotten paths, faded thoughts, and untied ends of the Hollow Veil are drawn. It is not a place one reaches, but a place one is carried to, slowly, unknowingly, through every unresolved choice.

The Confluence is shaped like no place at all. Ribbons of memory float like rivers in the air. Lost names spiral through echo-tides. Fragments of every realm pass through here: a bloom from the Hourless Garden, a broken stone from Nevercross Bridge, a whisper from the Vault.

The Spiral Drown: A central gyre of emotion and memory, slowly rotating — those who step into it may emerge transformed… or emptied.

The Unweaving Trestle: A ghostly lattice bridge that collapses behind each step forward.

The Refracted Choir: Distant voices of every unspoken word, layered until meaning becomes music.

The Loombasin: A pool of raw possibility, glowing with discarded futures.

One of the luckier days in recent times for myself came on the tail end of a three day trip to Vermont with my friend last autumn to attempt to shoot the Washington County RR from White River Jct, VT to Newport.

A railroad that has scorned me before, the second day of the trip and third morning were spent trying to catch them doing something with only small batches of information to go off of. As per the usual, I was left with nothing on the second day. No VTR trains moved except for a 2-car freight from Bellows Falls that tied down in White River.

It seemed as if the trip was a dud for moving trains. The day prior we traced the old STJ&LC and had a blast, but without a good chase this trip would have been missing a key element. We managed to grab a New England Central painted GP38 working White River Jct on the NECR side of things which was a nice uplift, but it only lasted a couple hours of switching and off to day drinking at Chili's we went.

The third morning, before the sun came up we awoke in my rusty 2007 Prius I had for all of 6 months. It was frozen in that thing. My buddy forgot that starting a car brings you heat and instead decided to stay pinned awake in the passenger seat with his toes gone numb. I woke up in the back pretty chilly but definitely not losing feeling in my extremities, and got us rolling for another, slightly more impatient attempt at the WACR.

We made it to the Junction and there we sat for another couple hours before I (as expected) grew impatient. I decided we were going to find the GMRC turn to Bellows Falls. We drove to Rutland and unknowingly passed right by the thing departing town. Thankfully my friend urged me to drive back down the line to check for it and if we saw nothing just go home. There she was, a set of red 4-axles taking the turn through the mountains. We got ahead of it at Ludlow and went to climb the trestle in town for our shot, but right when we got to the top I heard my buddy tell me to turn around. Behind us in the stub track siding by the station was their Alco RS1.

I had never shot it before, let alone any RS1. They're one of my favorite ALCos so we made the obvious choice to shoot our freight on the bridge and chase this wherever it may go. We got to talking with the company photographer who was present and he let us know it was a ferry move to end the passenger season and was going all the way to Burlington, fit with the company president in tow after they stopped in Rutland.

So we followed this Rutland locomotive on its home track across half of Vermont with both digital and film cameras alike. This photo was taken just north of New Haven Jct. where the Rutland branch to Bristol, VT once broke off from the main. The cows didn't seem nearly as excited as I was to see this little train trundling through the picturesque and colorful Vermont countryside.

Image taken on Kodak UltraMax 400 using my Nikon F4 fitted with an 80-200mm F/2.8 ED lens.

This painting was the last work of the botanical painter Seymour Bull who was Artist in Residence at Kew Gardens in late Victorian times.

His paintbrushes and clothes including his unmentionables were discovered discarded on the ground next to the easel holding this painting. This caused great consternation as it was assumed he had taken leave of his senses as artistic types often do and was shamelessly cavorting naked somewhere in the grounds at Kew.

As this was before nudity was invented the police were called and a search for this bohemian miscreant was soon underway.

However Seymour Bull was never to be seen again.

We now know that this gentleman was the very first victim of the vile Jealopus and that his body had in fact been completely digested by the loathsome plant/animal hybrid.

At the time though nobody foresaw the misery that the scientists at Kew Gardens were to unknowingly inflict on the world with their ill advised experimentations on the Jealopus.

Ralph McTell - Kew Gardens

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on the streets of palma, a fleeting moment becomes a frame within a frame. the young woman, vibrant and alive, stands unknowingly with a timeless face watching over her. it’s a dance of eras—youth and nostalgia meeting under the mediterranean sun, captured in black and white. the light carves stories, while shadows hold secrets.

Last fall Marc Adamus told me about an extremely remote area in the Canadian Rockies nestled between some of the tallest peaks in the region. He gave me some insight on getting there and exploring, which included landing a chopper on a small slab of rock and downclimbing down a mountain. That seemed to be a little over my head as there was no info to be found on the route Marc suggested, so I continued to do research through the winter. I eventually came across an alternate route, which included 30 miles of bushwacking and 30 miles of packrafting. It was out of the way from where Marc suggested, but during the research process I found some other peaks that looked Himalayan-like almost, glaciated and super jagged. It seemed like a great adventure. I mentioned the trip to others and eventually convinced Max Foster and Ben Prom to join me this summer. We did the trip three weeks ago and it was more of an adventure than photo trip, as the light wasn't the greatest and it ended up being the toughest backcountry trip that I've ever done. I'll include more trip details in a future post. We camped 1/4 mile from this waterfall unknowingly and came across it the next day. We were supposed to have a full day of hiking, but decided to camp here because of the amazing alignment of elements. We never got the great light, but had to process something. The waterfall was awesome and we worked hard for it, very hard.

Fog evokes mystery and mysticism at times, many find fog rather disheartening, but I’ve always found play between fog and light amazing. Add reflections to that and in my opinion it always makes for interesting images, like this one of the Passaic River in New Jersey taken on the Wallington side of the river. The way the silhouettes of the trees reflect on the waters of the Passaic River is wonderful and reminds one of a time when the urban blight of the city on the other side of the river, Passaic wasn’t the principal factor that most associate this area with. Years of conservation after close to 100 years of toxic pollutants being poured unknowingly in the river by the many plants that lined the river during the Industrial Revolution are starting to slowly turn things around. Panasonic LUMIX DMC-LX100 Mark II #developportdev @gothamtomato @developphotonewsletter @omsystem.cameras #excellent_america #lumixlx100ii @bheventspace @bhphoto @adorama @tamracphoto @tiffencompany #usaprimeshot #tamractales @panasonic @lumix @kehcamera @mpbcom @newjerseyisntboring @newjerseyisbeautiful @bergencountynj #microfourthirds #micro43 #micro43photography

in unknowing

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you

The market only wants to buy and sell you

Fight to stay awake

Choose the path you take

Even if you don't know where it is going

trust your own unknowing

(Don't go back to sleep) (Jan Garrett)

The fourteenth-century anonymous English author of The Cloud of Unknowing suggests that instead of pushing away or clinging to thoughts and images that appear in our awareness, whether distracting or attracting, we should simply “look over their shoulder.”

-A Sunlit Absence Silence, Awareness, and Contemplation Martin Laird, O.S.A.

Two significant storms passed over western North Carolina last month, the first bringing wind accelerating the demise of the autumn-colored leaves and the second bringing flooding, but even with all the more turbulent forces of nature around, a respite was right there to be found among the beauties of a stream rushing through a boulder-strewn landscape in South Mountain State Park, near Morganton, North Carolina.

From the cities in eastern North Carolina, this park is one of those often unknowingly bypassed on the way to the more well-known allures of Asheville, the Blue Ridge, the Smokies and many wilder areas of the Appalachians. But South Mountains definitely is worth a stop, especially a little later in the season when the leaves have all fallen at higher elevations. It has a beautiful trail system and boulder-filled streams to rival any found further into the larger mountain ranges just a bit further west.

Our visit this time was brief, and this and other shots we took were little more than snapshots to remind us of possibilities for a future visit another year when we can catch the fall color closer to peak, and hopefully without storms having accelerated the defoliation. Regardless, as an apparently more homebound winter approaches it seemed a good time to start going through some of the photo files on my computer and get a little inspiration going.

Thanks for viewing!

Maybe this is for you?

Found the love of your life, but still can't decide whether to stay in or go out?

Do both at the same time!

With a built in long range radar, so you'll never unknowingly be disturbed and powerful Wi-Fi router so you can stream MoonNetFlix and check your InstaFaceGramBookR accounts where ever you are.

With the handy all-terrain coffee table rover (which doubles as a spare seat) and mobile-floor-light-bot to keep the mood, it doesn't matter what you do.

Having left Slimbridge to go home i decided to stop off in the Cotswolds to see if i could see a Short Eared Owl before the sun set.

A final image of a Short Eared Owl.

Unknowingly this was to be the last viewing of a Shortie of the 2019/2020 season. And the last outing with a camera before the Lockdown due to Covid-19 Virus.

Images best viewed in "lights out" L key

“Only those who truly love and who are truly strong can sustain their lives as a dream. You dwell in your own enchantment. Life throws stones at you, but your love and your dream change those stones into the flowers of discovery. Even if you lose, or are defeated by things, your triumph will always be exemplary. And if no one knows it, then there are places that do. People like you enrich the dreams of the worlds, and it is dreams that create history. People like you are unknowing transformers of things, protected by your own fairy-tale, by love.”

Ben Okri

Explored April 12th :)

Textures by Kim Klassen, sweettreat and Ellenvd Tex no's 28 and 35 :)

Arctic Terns have the farthest annual journey of any bird in the world, travelling from their breeding grounds on the Arctic tundra to the coastal waters of Antarctica in the winter. That's a yearly migration distance of about 25,000 miles. That would seem an amazing feat for such a little bird. They usually return to nest near where they were born, making their nests on scrapes on open gravel or tundra, lined with plant material. Both sexes build the nest and actively defend it, an activity I can personally attest to. The few bloody peck marks on the top of my head were the punishment I received when I unknowingly ventured to close to a nest while photographing some pacific loons. Although it may have seemed a turn for the worst, it was well worthwhile to watch these graceful creatures tend to the nest. #ArcticTerns

Early in the morning out in my yard getting ready to get my charcoal bbq smoker going I saw movement near the creek. This tiny ball of fluff was standing on the rocks near the edge, I figured there would be more and the adults would be around. So I grabbed my camera and slowly worked my way down from another direction. To my surprise this tiny one was all alone, I layed down low to take some shots, she/he noticed me but didn't seem to be startled by my presence. she made a few calls i assume trying to locate her parents and slowly swam by me heading up the creek.

I never saw her/him again and have no idea how things turned out. I like to think she/he was ok, she seemed content to feed herself and stay close to the water to escape danger. But there are dangers that lurk under the water too.

There was a pair of adult geese on a property farther up the creek, I like to think she found them and that was her family, but I guess I will never know for sure and that is the sad reality of nature and wildlife.

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With multiple steam vents and geysers taking turns on which one was the loudest, Norris Geyser Basin was a really neat place to visit. And in the dark of the night, the crowds were gone and beautiful scenes like this appeared (in an area called Porcelain Basin).

Captured during our final workshop in Yellowstone National Park, trainer Darren White appears on the boardwalk with an unknown student (maybe Elizabeth?). This was a really interesting place to hang out - while our cameras collected data under milky way skies even if it was a little noisy at times. I understand that Norris Basin has some of the hottest steam pools in the park and that steam in the air may have helped to keep us just a little warmer when the night-time temperatures dropped.

Thank you to Darren White for unknowingly posing for this picture (and for putting up with me as a training partner). :-) And while I'm at it, thank you to our 460 or so students who joined us in 80 or so workshop events over the last 10 years. I'm thankful I can say that for many of our students, our workshops provided a "path to the stars" - something that brings them great joy. For me, it was an honor and a pleasure to work with so many great people along the way!

Find me, wherever the light takes me

nobody can be certain of distance

and there's no contingent for a vista's impression,

never knowing what the spirit truly seeks

colours have no predilection for sound;

they make their own music for you

and me, which we see anonymously...

spellbound together, like the seasons

right in the night of day

through the light of the night

there is nature's niche of love

for you to fall into, blindly, unknowingly...

reassuringly...

eternally...

by anglia24

10h40: 10/07/2007

♪

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© 2007anglia24

First, this is not my photo. Photo credit goes to Bobbie , who snapped this shot of yours truly (unknowingly, and sporting an award worthy Coppertone suntan I might add). She's so busy, that she only got around to looking at her photos yesterday, and since I'm too lazy to set up for self photos (which I suck at anyway), I thought this was worth sharing.

🌒 NEVERENDING – Book XV 🌒

Look closely.

Do you recognize him?

You’ve seen him before –

but never like this.

A shadow passing through forgotten chapters.

A distant figure, sometimes the Shadow Artist,

sometimes the silent man who walks alone.

You followed him unknowingly –

through 14 stories.

And now, he’s here.

A boy with a magical pen,

a phoenix at his side,

and Pinky Punky dancing through the mist.

He is The Lost Artist.

And he is almost ready.

The 15th book remains untitled.

The gates to NEVERENDING are still closed…

but not for long.

Listen closely.

The world is stirring.

The story is near.

Have you ever wondered what happens in your neighborhood after you are sound asleep? The original photo is a view of the 8th Street bridge and the Sheboygan River as seen from our apartment's balcony. The river bike riders who are being unknowingly stalked by the metallic predator were added using Photoleap Cloud Wanderer. Sleep tightly, my friends!

_____

Why is this my favorite photo of 2020?

Well, this is a tribute to a child I raised. My nephew. The first six years of his life had been tremendously difficult. When he got sick, he came to live with me. Shortly thereafter, we moved to a log cabin. At night, we would look out his bedroom window together. One night, when the moon was full and bright, we noticed a herd of deer playing in the field below us. In the moonlight, they pranced and appeared as fairy deer. It was magical. I turned to look at him. This child I loved so much. His face was so beautifully lit. So full of wonder and awe.

Moonlight became our shared treasure.

Some thirty years later, on the night of the Pink Moon in April 2020, just days before his birthday, I asked him to photograph his view of it so we could share it. He did. And so did I. We posted our photos on a social media site and unknowingly picked the same cover song. "The Moon and the Sky" by Sade.

Sometimes magic happens when it means the most.

Bang, bang, you're dead.

All this time we've just been ashamed. It's unspoken that we are afraid but that means we are unknowing what we are frightened of. I can barely stand and yet I have got to support you somehow. When there's no one else around, I'm here. If you can't find them, I'll find you.

What is it that consumes us? Fear of fear itself, I fear. I'm scared of losing you. I'm selfish, you see. I need your company and your warmth and to sit beside you and know that you are listening. And this selfish desire holds me here. I will watch out for you so that I can keep you safe for myself.

Over half way and I'm in some weird self-effacing rut of not being able to take photos of myself. Here, have more outtakes.

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