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“Oh, how beautiful is the summer night, which is not night, but a sunless, yet unclouded, day, descending upon earth with dews and shadows and refreshing coolness! How beautiful the long mild twilight, which, like a silver clasp, unites today with yesterday.” -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Summer nights are one of my favorite things of this season. Fireflies, moths, crickets lulling me to sleep, the stars brighter than usual, watching bats fly around, the stillness of it and how everything just seems to calm. It’s all so extraordinary.
Notebook from Peter Pauper Press, bandana from Fjallraven.
Noordduinen.
Een lang gerekte strook duinen. Deze duinen zijn bekend vanwege de zeldzame broedvogel de tapuit en de aanwezigheid van het zeldzame duintype grijze duin. Het gebied kleurt grijs door de vele mossen en korstmossen.
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I want to get into my Car and
drive until I find what I'm looking for
Maybe it's a purpose or maybe it's a new start
or maybe it's just a sky with unclouded stars
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Sun rises, when we get them unclouded around the winter solstice, offer the best light on Vancouver's downtown buildings as seen from our condo on the east end of False Creek.
The rising sun also more closely matches the time to roll out of bed.
And that is it for now. Gone to Mexico - one week each in Oaxaca, Puebla and Mexico City.
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Permission to use photo.
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12 Feb 2019
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PHOTO News Reader's Gallery
Good evening Ted:
Thank you for posting your photograph "2018 - Vancouver - Sunrise"
FILE: www.flickr.com/photos/time-to-look/44457354380/in/pool-ph...
in the PHOTO News Reader's Gallery flickr® group pool.
This image has been selected for possible publication in the next issue of the magazine – could you please send a high resolution file so that we can prepare the magazine for printing – ideally an image that will print 9 x 12 inches at 300 dpi – please e-mail the file to editor@zakmedia.ca and please copy my yahoo e-mail (just in case the g-mail doesn’t work) nrrosen@yahoo.ca
Please include a caption with your name, home town, and a brief description of the image – for example: "Norm Rosen of Toronto, ON, captured this image of an autumn leaf with a Nikon D200 and 60mm macro lens, shooting at 1/250 second and f/11, ISO 200. "I shot from below the leaf, to let the sunlight illuminate the image".
Please note that we request one-time publication rights for the printed and digital editions of PHOTO News magazine. All other rights to the photos published in PHOTO News remain with the photographer.
After publication, we will send you a special gift, along with some extra copies of the magazine.
IMPORTANT: To facilitate delivery of the magazine copies, please include your mailing address and telephone number in your e-mail message.
Thank you for participating in the PHOTO News Reader's Gallery!
Best regards,
Norm Rosen,
Editor,
PHOTO News Magazine
Sun rises, when we get them unclouded around the winter solstice, offer the best light on Vancouver's downtown buildings as seen from our condo on the east end of False Creek.
The rising sun also more closely matches the time to roll out of bed.
This would be BC Place Stadium.
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"Child of the pure, unclouded brow And dreaming eyes of wonder! Though time be fleet and I and thou Are half a life asunder, Thy loving smile will surely hail The love-gift of a fairy tale" -Lewis Carroll
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© Ben Heine || Facebook || Twitter || www.benheine.com
________________________________________________
I recently took this photo near Braives in Belgium. While I was walking
in the countryside, I felt so lucky to find such a beautiful yellow field.
________________________________________________
For more information about my art: info@benheine.com
________________________________________________
What a Horizon It Is
A poem by Peter S. Quinn
What a horizon it is
The unclouded blue clear
Deep space certainty bliss
So far away though near
All is in azure glowing
Above the yellow green
Beat to beat there going
Of what is written between
What is there in yonder?
Where my eyes can’t see
Star to star all asunder
In hours of nowhere to be
In the unreachable way
Where my wings can’t yearn
And pitchy abysses play
In the fires of eternal burn
What a horizon is this
In the sunny skies above
The embellish of blue kiss
From the nature of love
Where its touches is feeling
Of our times going by
While life is thru wheeling
In the turntables of the sky
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The poem Cornish Cliffs: "And in the shadowless unclouded glare / Deep blue above us fades to whiteness where / A misty sea-line meets the wash of air."
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De Hondsbossche Zeewering is a part of the Dutch sea defenses.
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"I admire its purity. A survivor ... unclouded by conscience, remorse or delusions of morality."
('Alien' by NECA)
an explanation is in order. I like Tim's gaze and felt it had a 1800's look to it that you see with those Ambrotype photographs. so decided to see if I could duplicated this effect.
(The ambrotype, also known as a collodion positive, is a positive photograph on glass made by a variant of the wet plate collodion process)
Hit the L key for a better view. Thanks for the favs and comments. Much appreciated!
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All of my photographs are under copyright ©. None of these photographs may be reproduced and/or used in any way without my permission.
© VanveenJF Photography
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Location: Da Vinci Gardens - Kalepa
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Kalepa/68/241/3414
Sitting Paragon: Anima Aperta
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Lady of Shalott
~1832 Alfred, Lord Tennyson~
Listen to the Song Here Sung by Loreena McKennitt...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=DRIHzr3Pxhc
Part I
On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro' the field the road runs by
To many-tower'd Camelot;
The yellow-leaved waterlily
The green-sheathed daffodilly
Tremble in the water chilly
Round about Shalott.
Willows whiten, aspens shiver.
The sunbeam showers break and quiver
In the stream that runneth ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four gray walls, and four gray towers
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott.
Underneath the bearded barley,
The reaper, reaping late and early,
Hears her ever chanting cheerly,
Like an angel, singing clearly,
O'er the stream of Camelot.
Piling the sheaves in furrows airy,
Beneath the moon, the reaper weary
Listening whispers, ' 'Tis the fairy,
Lady of Shalott.'
The little isle is all inrail'd
With a rose-fence, and overtrail'd
With roses: by the marge unhail'd
The shallop flitteth silken sail'd,
Skimming down to Camelot.
A pearl garland winds her head:
She leaneth on a velvet bed,
Full royally apparelled,
The Lady of Shalott.
Part II
No time hath she to sport and play:
A charmed web she weaves alway.
A curse is on her, if she stay
Her weaving, either night or day,
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be;
Therefore she weaveth steadily,
Therefore no other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.
She lives with little joy or fear.
Over the water, running near,
The sheepbell tinkles in her ear.
Before her hangs a mirror clear,
Reflecting tower'd Camelot.
And as the mazy web she whirls,
She sees the surly village churls,
And the red cloaks of market girls
Pass onward from Shalott.
Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling pad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd lad,
Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,
Goes by to tower'd Camelot:
And sometimes thro' the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two:
She hath no loyal knight and true,
The Lady of Shalott.
But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror's magic sights,
For often thro' the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights
And music, came from Camelot:
Or when the moon was overhead
Came two young lovers lately wed;
'I am half sick of shadows,' said
The Lady of Shalott.
Part III
A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley-sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,
And flam'd upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.
The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle bells rang merrily
As he rode down from Camelot:
And from his blazon'd baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armour rung,
Beside remote Shalott.
All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn'd like one burning flame together,
As he rode down from Camelot.
As often thro' the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
Moves over green Shalott.
His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down from Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flash'd into the crystal mirror,
'Tirra lirra, tirra lirra:'
Sang Sir Lancelot.
She left the web, she left the loom
She made three paces thro' the room
She saw the water-flower bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
'The curse is come upon me,' cried
The Lady of Shalott.
Part IV
In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining,
Heavily the low sky raining
Over tower'd Camelot;
Outside the isle a shallow boat
Beneath a willow lay afloat,
Below the carven stern she wrote,
The Lady of Shalott.
A cloudwhite crown of pearl she dight,
All raimented in snowy white
That loosely flew (her zone in sight
Clasp'd with one blinding diamond bright)
Her wide eyes fix'd on Camelot,
Though the squally east-wind keenly
Blew, with folded arms serenely
By the water stood the queenly
Lady of Shalott.
With a steady stony glance—
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Beholding all his own mischance,
Mute, with a glassy countenance—
She look'd down to Camelot.
It was the closing of the day:
She loos'd the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.
As when to sailors while they roam,
By creeks and outfalls far from home,
Rising and dropping with the foam,
From dying swans wild warblings come,
Blown shoreward; so to Camelot
Still as the boathead wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her chanting her deathsong,
The Lady of Shalott.
A longdrawn carol, mournful, holy,
She chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her eyes were darken'd wholly,
And her smooth face sharpen'd slowly,
Turn'd to tower'd Camelot:
For ere she reach'd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.
Under tower and balcony,
By garden wall and gallery,
A pale, pale corpse she floated by,
Deadcold, between the houses high,
Dead into tower'd Camelot.
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
To the planked wharfage came:
Below the stern they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott.
They cross'd themselves, their stars they blest,
Knight, minstrel, abbot, squire, and guest.
There lay a parchment on her breast,
That puzzled more than all the rest,
The wellfed wits at Camelot.
'The web was woven curiously,
The charm is broken utterly,
Draw near and fear not,—this is I,
The Lady of Shalott.'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The second installment of my elemental series for the Air element.
Fog is a thick cloud that confounds us and causes us to lose our sense of direction, in both a physical and mental sense. When our judgement is "clouded", or our mind in a "fog", sometimes it's best to wait until all the facts impacting our decision become visible and clear. The sun eventually burns away the fog, enabling us to see everything clearly. The same holds true, and serves as a metaphor, for the mental realm. Our mental sun eventually burns away our mental fog, allowing us to "see" everything clearly with an unclouded mind.
Model: Jasmine Nicole B // MUA: Cheriene Galley
And in the shadowless, unclouded glare
Deep blue above us fades to whiteness where
A misty sea-line meets the wash of air....Cornish Cliffs by John Betjeman
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Vuurtoren "Grote Kaap."
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Visit me also at www.workingwithlight.com
Death Valley is already a quite remote location, but within Death Valley there is an even more solitary spot, called „The Racetrack Playa“. From Stovepipe Wells, quite in the center of Death Valley, you drive an hour north to the Ubehebe Crater. Here the true adventure starts: a dirt road with sharp and tire killing rocks takes you south into a secluded valley. Depending on road conditions, the journey from the crater to “The Racetrack Playa” can take easily 4 hours (own experience – and this is just one way!). If you are lucky, and the road was recently prepared, you could also make it in just 2 hours. In any case: do not try this trip with a normal rental car! You need a high clearance car and very robust tires. The Park Rangers told me that they have to rescue frequently tourists that got a flat tire with their rental car. And check your car rental contract: you typically lose all your insurance on a rental car, as soon as you drive on unpaved roads. Plus, there is absolutely no signal for your mobile phone in most of the journey. So if you are willing to dare this 10 hour road trip, fill up your tank and take water and food for a couple of days.
The price for all the effort is seeing something truly unique: the famous sliding rocks that leave tracks on the Racetrack Playa. The Playa is a dry lake which was formed over thousands of years, when seldom rain washed muddy waters from the surrounding mountains into the valley. The water then dried to a perfectly flat surface, which is hard like cement. Along with the waters sometimes big rocks were washed on Racetrack Playa. In winter, with enough rain, the Playa becomes a shallow lake. During the night the water freezes, forming sheets of ice that also embed the rocks. In the morning, when temperatures rise above freezing point, the ice sheets breaks. If then the wind gets strong enough, the rocks start to sail on their “raft of ice”. When moving, the rocks leave traces in the surface of the Playa which became soft during the previous rains. Eventually the ice melts and the Playa’s surface becomes hard again, conserving the traces that the rocks left during their journey.
For me, Racetrack Playa is a truly mystical and magnetic place. I’ll be back, no doubt.
I took this photo after spending a night shooting the Milky Way over Racetrack Playa. Surprisingly enough, when waking up in the morning after an unclouded night, the sky was completely overcast with dramatic clouds. So no time for breakfast, I grabbed my gear, rushed out on the Playa and started shooting again. The “price” was this image of an unearthly scenery. In the background you see on the left hand heavy rains falling. And this was in the middle of August…
" Watching as things arrange themselves in the changing light, the photographer with unobstructed vision sees them as they are. Appropriate images appear without struggle, moving with the flow of light like leaves in a stream, to be immediately reflected in a mind unclouded by preconceived ideas." Bejamin Hoff
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