View allAll Photos Tagged Unbroken
Hey everyone! The Unbroken Isle Mall is ready to go, and I’ve got a few stores for rent — plus a 1/4 SIM will be available soon! 🎉
It’s the same SIM we use for Redeux and The Fantasy Room — with new setups there too!
Come check it out, tell me what you think, and if you want to rent a store at the mall, just send me a notecard. First come, first served! 😉
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Copying, altering, displaying or redistribution of any of these images without written permission from the Artist is strictly prohibited.
My photos can be purchased as Art Prints without reproduction rights through www.photohuszar.com.
For editorial or commercial rights and assignments please contact me personally through www.photohuszar.com.
Thanx for stopping by.
Steve
Amid the unbroken whiteness of Antarctica, a commercial jet—an Icelandair B757—rests improbably on a polished blue-ice runway at Union Glacier. Surrounded by the vast emptiness of the Ellsworth Mountains, it looks more like a mirage than a machine: a symbol of human audacity stitched into the most remote continent on Earth. This is not a traditional airport—there are no terminals, no tarmacs, no control towers—only snow, silence, and the low rumble of logistics in motion.
Operated by Iceland Air under contract to Antarctic Logistics & Expeditions (ALE), the aircraft delivers explorers, scientists, filmmakers, and dreamers to one of the last true frontiers. Landing here is no small feat. The wheels meet a runway made of ancient ice—scoured, grooved, and maintained by precision machinery to keep it smooth and grippy enough for a jetliner. Pilots train specifically for this descent, calculating every detail down to the angle of the sun and the density of the air. Touching down safely in such a place feels like threading a needle between extremes—temperature, isolation, and atmospheric pressure.
Around the aircraft, a dance of activity unfolds. Passengers in red parkas disembark onto a frozen surface that has held its form for millennia. Specialized over-snow vehicles—tracked, rugged, orange—stand ready to ferry them into the field. The ice underfoot is more than a setting; it’s a time machine, holding within it the atmospheric secrets of hundreds of thousands of years.
Union Glacier is not just a logistics hub—it’s a portal. From here, expeditions fan out toward the South Pole, the Vinson Massif, or deeper still into the blank map of the interior. For many, this touchdown is more than a milestone—it’s the culmination of a lifelong dream, and the beginning of something far larger than themselves.
Here, where the sky is diamond-clear and the silence hums with ancient power, the improbable becomes routine. A jet engine in Antarctica. A runway of ice. A brief moment when human endeavor touches the edge of the sublime.
Queenie and Gracie were best friends until the loss of Queenie in 2006. Gracie and Queenie had a very strong bond as they were similar age and they see and played with each other nearly everyday. Although Gracie lived until 2010 I don't think she ever forgot Queenie.
~Remember when you said
Together till the end?
We would stay together
Chasing down forever
Yet here I stand alone
On this broken road
Searching for my shattered
Heart, the pieces scattered
Every broken promise made
Makes me strive to push through pain
And I will fight the darkness with
All the light I have within
Every page before this time
Now erased from my mind
I'll rewrite my weakness into strength
Though my memory's haunted
My hope remains undaunted
Stronger than before
Through all your lies spoken
I remain unbroken
Stronger than before
(Stronger than before)
You left me lost at sea
Waves crash over me
Betrayal made me capsize
I didn't think I'd survive
Fought the perfect storm
Now I am reborn
The wind and rain seemed endless
But my courage is relentless
Every broken promise made
Makes me strive to push through pain
And I will fight the darkness with
All the light I have within
Every page before this time
Now erased from my mind
And I'll rewrite my weakness into strength
Though my memory's haunted
My hope remains undaunted
Stronger than before
Through all your lies spoken
I remain unbroken
Stronger than before
(Stronger than before)~
-----------------
Ivan Torrent ft. Aeralie Brighton - Unbroken
Der „Heurige“ ist die traditionelle wiener Gaststätte der Gemütlichkeit. Auch wenn die meisten mittlerweile Restaurantcharakter haben, die Anziehungskraft ist ungebrochen.
The "Heurige", originally a pub serving its own wine and a few dishes, is the traditional Viennese pub with a cozy atmosphere. Even if most of them now have the character of restaurants, their appeal remains unbroken.
A peak below the summit of Mt. Jacobsen enveloped with incredible atmospheric conditions on the shoulder of a storm in the Coastal Mountains.
West Horndon, Essex | April 2011
Polaroid SX-70 [Tan] | TheImpossibleProject PX680 Beta
[Losing Focus] | [Twitter]
[All photographs © Toby Marsh. Please do not re-use without permission.]
SX70Tan_PX680_02_04_2011_03_edit_web
The Wildhearts - Unbroken | The New Flesh EP | 2007
Del-ka Aedilis
The Medieval Market - Hedeby Cheesemaker Stall
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Riverhunt/129/128/27
The Medieval Market - Hedeby Clothmaker Stall
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Unbroken%20Isle/193/190/2482
The Medieval Market - Autumn Fruits Stall Hedeby Complete
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Orinoco%20Valley/5/126/23
Beneath a shifting ceiling of ashen clouds, the Valley of Trolls unfurled in solemn grandeur, a wilderness carved by time’s relentless hand. Ocean Peak rose above the far horizon, its serrated heights stark against the gloom, like an ancient banner frayed by millennia of winds. At its feet, Lake Harris lay brooding, its dark waters restless and inscrutable, stirred by winds that whispered of distant seas and forgotten storms.
In the foreground, a serpentine stream spilled forth from the hidden cradle of Lake Wilson, threading its way through a chaotic tumble of stone. Its waters shimmered, not merely clear but luminous, catching elusive glints of light that seemed to flicker and fade as if stolen from the stars. Pools gathered in quiet hollows, their surfaces dappled with ripples that moved like silver veins through emerald and cobalt. The stream hummed with life, its song subtle yet persistent, like a half-remembered melody from a world long past.
Clinging to the fractured rocks, alpine daisies stretched defiantly, their white blooms trembling as faint sunbeams broke through the clouds, only to vanish again as swiftly as they had come. These hardy flowers, so fragile in appearance yet stubborn in their survival, seemed to hold council with the mosses and lichens that crept across the crags in slow, deliberate conquest. Each blade of grass, each cluster of growth, seemed to hold its place not by chance, but by some secret decree of the land itself.
The valley walls were a mosaic of raw geology, where layers of stone thrust forward, tilted and scarred as though shaped by a craftsman’s fury. Deep fissures cleaved their surfaces, shadows pooling within them like ink spilled from some unseen hand. This was no land of soft beauty or gentle welcomes—it was a place that commanded respect, its silence carrying the weight of long-buried stories.
Farther still, Lake Harris mirrored the sky’s shifting moods in its dark expanse, its waters holding a curious stillness at odds with the restless air around it. The peak above seemed almost watchful, its sharp contours suggesting not just a mountain, but an ancient presence—a witness to events that even the loremasters of Rivendell might struggle to recall.
Here, one might imagine a weary Frodo pausing, his hand brushing the cool stones, as Sam’s voice broke through the quiet with some small encouragement. Or perhaps Aragorn, his gaze far away, scanning the rugged horizon as though searching for echoes of a time before his own. It was a land where footsteps felt heavier, where the air seemed dense with unspoken warnings, and yet where beauty—wild and unbroken—shone like a pale flame in the gathering dusk.
The Valley of Trolls held no welcome for travelers, nor did it turn them away. It simply was, a fragment of Middle-earth unbent by the passing ages, its mysteries untouched by the dominion of Men. There was a stillness here, but not a peace. Beneath the green and stone, beneath the streams and shadows, there was a waiting, a presence that seemed to hum just below the edge of perception. Not malevolent, not benevolent—simply there, as if the valley itself watched and remembered long after all others had forgotten.
Happy Spring everyone !!
I was really excited to take this photo, and I would have never have done it if my dad never woke me up. My dad works midnight shifts and comes home in the morning so I would usually let him sleep because he's always so tired.
It was my spring break and I was sleeping until my dad woke me up and told me that it was beautiful outside to take photos. I felt so happy that he thought of me, and that we raced out the door because the snow was melting because it was so sunny!!
I had to race out into the open highway thousands of times with my tripod, clicking the remote frantically before almost getting hit by a car.
What was supposed to be a quick 10 minutes ended up being 45 minutes of driving around and exploring country roads thick with snow. My dad took me to a bridge and you could see the river flowing with snow covered trees on both sides of the river (I'll have to post a picture!). But all I can say is that I love my dad and say how thankful I am that he'd drive me around even though I know how tired he is from work and never being able to sleep during the day.
It truly was a magical experience to see. It was so STUNNING not even photos could capture a fraction of its beauty.
Adventure is always out there.
Bus driver made a sharp U-turn waking me up from the slumbering. Warm, bright and sunny day; cloudless blue skies and emerald green waters; small fishing village with a temple on the shore and couple of shack shops selling colorful balloons and souvenir statues of the Hindu deities; few stray dogs and non-existing bus stop at the end of the sandy road appeared in the window as I got up.
I have reached another sea. That very sentence stuck in my head the minute this fascinating picture at the shore of the Arabian Sea revealed itself. The tranquility of the place felt magic and hypnotic. I was deeply enthralled by the charm of it and didn't learn the name of the village; later, realizing that, I decided to leave it that way.
Reaching another sea may seem like an ordinary event, however this time it felt different, a dream like. Even now, when I close my eyes, I still see and feel the alchemy of it. Perhaps I was dreaming…
On the bus from Junagadh to Dwarka (Gujarat, India)
November 3rd, 2015
Sad to hear that the old Kinnegar Jetty has been badly damaged again during the recent bad weather. The end has now completely gone and it doesn't look good for the remainder? This is a shot from a while ago when it was in better condition.
This is how it looks now www.flickr.com/gp/ronnielmills/koRE62
What could be more still! I took a recent trip down to Kennel Vale, just the most spectacular valley I have seen for a long time. I can't quite believe I have never been here before. There is this flooded quarry as you enter the woodland which has such great colours.
I didn't have much time there and need a return journey when I can get the old filters out and find some other vantage points. The real attraction with the place is actually the river and old water leats and watermills. As soon as the sun is out I will be there.
New and 50% Off at Redeux Event in October:
Forest Hut
27 LI with surrounding plants & ivy
14 LI Hut without plants
Mesh, Materials enabled
Redeux Event:
Smile from Bali
Life will go on for the Balinese. Their spirit cannot be broken.
the concept: black border is the past, the blast, darkness, sadness, anger.... even tho the balinese girl facing a dark time but she won't look the past... live must go on, bali must go on, there are hope and faith.... pray for us
A continued series from Javajive