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Note: Je dédie cette image à notre collègue Irina Dimulescu, pour son aide inestimable.
Un hiver sur Poësia
Un vent glacial balaie des champs sans voix, sans vie
Et l’ombre projeté par les arbres dénudés retient son souffle
Sous la lumière grise et déclinante
D’une journée d’hiver au ciel fatigué
Coloré de blanc et de gris
Sans dessus dessous.
L’hiver nordique est mal aimé.
Tellement la loi naturelle qui le sous-tend apparait contraignante pour une société qui se donne l’illusion de pouvoir s’en affranchir…
En tout confort.
Et pourtant… C’est en hiver…
…que la magie du ciel étoilé nous donne l’impression de pouvoir toucher, de la main, à l’infini
…que la pleine lune inonde la trop longue nuit de ses jeux d’ombres et de lumière impressionnistes
…que les enfants reviennent à la maison les joues rougies de bonheur
…que le paysage s’offre aux artistes en toute simplicité
…que l’on reconnait en soi cet irrésistible été, promesse de lendemains scintillants.
Là-bas, une clôture s’est affaissée sous la force combinée du vent et du poids de la neige. Le fermier devra la réparer.
L’hiver, comme la vie elle-même, est persévérance
Patrice photographiste
———————————————————-
Note: I dedicate this image to our colleague Irina Dimulescu, for her invaluable help.
Winter on Poësia
An icy wind sweeps across voiceless, lifeless fields
And the shadow cast by the bare trees holds its breath
Under the gray and fading light
From a winter day with tired sky
Colored in white and gray
Upside down.
The Nordic winter is badly loved. So is the natural law which is at its core, and seems constraining for a society under the illusion that could escape it. . . in complete comfort.
And yet ... It's in winter ...
... that the magic of the starry sky gives us the impression of being able to touch, with our hands, infinity
... that the full moon floods the too long nights with its play of impressionist light and shadows
… Let the children come home with their cheeks reddened with happiness
... that the landscape offers itself to artists unpretentiously
... that we recognize in ourselves this irresistible summer, the promise of a scintillating tomorrow.
There, a fence collapsed under the combined force of the wind and the weight of the snow. The farmer will have to fix it.
Winter, as life itself, means perseverance.
Patrice photographiste
The Wood Storks seem to be moving in everywhere.
See the comments for a portrait shot.
From the Florida Wildlife Commission:
Wood storks are about 35-45 inches in length with a wing span of about 60-65 inches. The plumage is white except for iridescent (you can see that in the photo above) or glimmering black feathers along the entire wing and tail. The head and upper neck of adult storks do not have feathers, but are covered with a rough, scaly skin that is gray-colored. The legs and bill are a black tone but the toes have a pink hue. Unlike herons, storks fly and soar with the neck and legs extended.
Whereas nestling storks utter a variety of calls and sounds, adult storks are nearly voiceless and make only hissing sounds. However, the stork will produce a loud sound by snapping their bills during courtship or aggressive behaviors.
Wood storks are highly social in their nesting habits, often nesting in large colonies of 100-500 nests. (Note – the most I’ve seen in one place is at Harris Neck NWR in Georgia) Historically, there were reports of stork colonies estimated to be as large as 1,200-5,000 nests in the Big Cypress and Everglades of south Florida. Wood storks feed mostly on fish, in water between 2-15 inches in depth, where the water is calm and uncluttered by aquatic vegetation.
Storks have a very specialized tactile foraging behavior whereby they move their partially-opened bill through the water in a side-to-side motion, often using their feet to rake or scare up aquatic prey. Once the bill detects a fish, the bill is snapped shut in one of the quickest reflex reactions among animals. Locating prey using tactile location allows storks to forage in muddy water but requires a relatively high prey density to be effective. Thus, storks tend to forage in wetlands that have long annual wet periods followed by drying conditions to concentrate prey during the spring and early summer months for successful breeding seasons.
Historically, wood storks were a common species throughout the southeastern United States. However, precipitous declines in stork range and populations occurred during the first half of the 1900s because of the stork's specialized foraging attribute and the loss of wetlands used for foraging, especially in south Florida. Ultimately, the United States population was listed as endangered by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service in 1984 and by the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission (FWC) in 1988. While the number of stork nests and colonies in Georgia and South Carolina appeared to increase during the 1980s and 1990s, storks still experience continued nesting related problems in Florida, especially south Florida. Recently, storks have established a colony in North Carolina.
The success of wood stork fledging, or the process in which a bird grows to be independent of its parents, often is variable among different years and colonies suggesting food resources are the likely factor in differences in nestling survivorship and fledging rates. Based on statewide surveys conducted by FWC personnel, stork colonies increased from 32 colonies during 1976-78 to 52 colonies during 1986-87, but decreased to 34 colonies in 1999. The most recent survey indicated about 7,216 nesting pairs in Florida during 2005.
Stormy sunset over Kaho'olawe, from Polo Beach, Maui, Hawai'i
So speaks the sea,
in roars and whispers,
timeless rhythms
soothe my soul,
and set my heart alight
In longing dreams
I hear the call,
through a cacophony
of voiceless noise,
I know she speaks to me
It's been a bit since I've posted an image, not for lack of photos to post, but more a lack of inspiration for something to say about them. Usually as I look through my images, there is something that jumps out and says "post me, post me!" and the words flow from there, but lately there has been only silence. Until earlier today, as I was revisiting some of last year's images from Hawai’i, in anticipation of a return to my beloved islands later this summer. Then, the sea spoke...
“Voiceless it cries,
Wingless flutters,
Toothless bites,
Mouthless mutters.”
Quote ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit
Trying to catch the wind (that lets the dry sand dance), as low as possible I could get, on a photo….. This is the result and I was completely covered with sand ;-))
Happy weekend!
"The Mystic's Dream"
A clouded dream on an earthly night
Hangs upon the crescent moon
A voiceless song in an ageless light
Sings at the coming dawn
Birds in flight are calling there
Where the heart moves the stones
It's there that my heart is calling
All for the love of you
A painting hangs on an ivy wall
Nestled in the emerald moss
The eyes declare a truce of trust
And then it draws me far away
Where deep in the desert twilight
Sand melts in pools of the sky
When darkness lays her crimson cloak
Your lamps will call me home
And so it's there my homage's due
Clutched by the still of the night
And now I feel you move
Every breath is full
So it's there my homage's due
Clutched by the still of the night
Even the distance feels so near
All for the love of you.
this voiceless singing...
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25 Novembre, Giornata Internazionale per l'eliminazione della violenza contro le donne.
Una giornata di riflessione, per far sentire alle donne che non sono sole e per una società migliore, con meno violenza.
In Italia una ragazza su cinque ha subito degli abusi. Ma non tutte denunciano, per varie ragioni : c'è ancora una realtà terribile che deve essere scoperta.
Ci sono varie forme di violenza, in famiglia, sul lavoro, nel rapporto di coppia, ma il meccanismo è sempre lo stesso : il senso di possesso e la mancanza di rispetto per la persona e la libertà altrui. . Una situazione sempre più drammatica che richiede leggi più severe ed incisive, protezione e tutela ( questo mentre ci sono tagli ai finanziamenti per le case di accoglienza), ma soprattutto un'azione culturale che richiederà molto tempo.
Una forma di aiuto alle donne è il loro diritto al lavoro, per una indipendenza economica e una giustizia sociale che le aiuterà nel loro rapporto con gli uomini..
Questa è anche la giornata dei bambini, maschi e femmine, che hanno subito situazioni di enorme sofferenza in famiglia , che li segnerà a vita, o che sono rimasti orfani in seguito a una violenza cieca e vigliacca.
A flower for the voiceless
Stop violence against women. November 25th,, World Day
A clouded dream on an earthly night
Hangs upon the crescent moon
A voiceless song in an ageless light
Sings at the coming dawn
Birds in flight are calling there
Where the heart moves the stones
It's there that my heart is calling
All for the love of you.
So proud i made it through the MR SL Competition and won the title MR SL 2022. Thankful for all your support, i met so much beautiful souls and made friends. I will never forget these amazing journey. All were so amazing- the MISS SL Organization Team and all the finalists did a great job.
Also congratulations to Zieb Zen and Hasu Valentino for first and second runner up, you both deserve it so well.
I hope we can do some projects in the future together - i see us three as the winners and a team.
Also was so touched of Marcus Wisser‘s speech, it hit my heart. I know what it means to start a project from zero and grow it to a great solid event, which is known all around the grid. You are very special for me. You and the team were always professional, kind and respectful with all of us finalists, your guiding through the challenges i appreciated so much.
It made me grow personally and with my skills and qualities.
I still dont see myself perfect because i am only a human with flaws but i know i can challenge and grow even more confident and professional.
My next journey will be finishing my 6. book of neverending and open the sim soon.
Then next i have lot of projects in my mind, one of it will be to help new pageants, guiding them threw their own experiences in MISS SL and be a positive model for them giving them lots of love and power to be themself and proud of it.
Points to „be themself“ was a big challenge for me and thanks to the experience i reached it and be finally proud of myself, of who i am, where i come from and where i am now. I am not scared anymore to show it and neither voiceless. It’s who i am - a human with a kind big heart for everyone.
“There's really no such thing as the 'voiceless'. There are only the deliberately silenced, or the preferably unheard.”
― Arundhati Roy
When everyone else
Is more comfortable
Remaining voiceless
Rather than fighting for humans
That have had their rights stolen
I might not be the same
But that’s not important
No freedom ’til we’re equal
Damn right I support it
~ Macklemore
www.youtube.com/watch?v=hlVBg7_08n0&ab_channel=Mackle...
Location: Second Pride: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Second%20Pride%20West/252/...
is voiceless.”
-Quote By; Rosemary Dobson~
[Enter The World Of Fiction; Le Palais Oriental~
---------------------------------------------------
мנ ρнσтσgяαρнү αℓℓ яιgнтs яεsεяvε∂©
{Summer 2008/Geneva}~
The Violin Song - Monoir & Osaka
My soul redeems tonight, celestial fight
Goddess of beauty, Venus versus Mars
It tears the word apart, no one can find
A safer place where we can love all night
We go, we go, we goin' right
We go, we go, go all night
We go, we go, we goin' right
We go, we go, go all night
My soul redeems tonight, celestial fight
Goddess of beauty, Venus versus Mars
It tears the word apart, no one can find
A safer place where we can love all night
Essayez de profiter, quand même, de 2016..."
"Un événement gestuel, un éclat de lumière. Instant sourd et beau." / "A gestures event, a burst of light. A voiceless and beautiful moment." (Patrick CANHAN / www.flickr.com/photos/patpardon/)
Ideal soundtrack // Bande-son idéale: SOFT-CELL ("Entertain Me"): www.youtube.com/watch?v=S7Le3WD2VLo&list=RDS7Le3WD2VLo
A voiceless song in an ageless light
Sings at the coming dawn
It's there that my heart is calling
All for the love of you
Loreena McKennitt
I might have been pushing my luck in more than one sense, but I was hoping I would get away with it. A drive up to the village and the small cafe we’d visited a few days earlier, and then we’d head for the Levada do Risco walk. Finally, I might accidentally on purpose take the wrong turn out of the car park and we might accidentally on purpose end up at Fanal again. And so after taking one of the easier levada walks to the waterfall, where chaffinches fed on seeds pulled from nutty bars and placed on our outstretched palms, we took the road to the forest in the fog once again. Well when I mention chaffinches and outstretched palms, it was mostly Ali drawing the flocks. Wherever we go, small children and animals automatically sense the presence of a gentle soul and gravitate around her. One chaffinch did sit on my palm pecking away contentedly for several moments, but she was the main attraction. A couple of other trekkers tried something similar, but they were wasting their time with St Francesca of Redruth dominating the proceedings.
After a stiff uphill stroll back to the car park, it was a relatively short drive to Fanal. In the last mile of the drive a huge expanse of cloud filled the space below us, but there was nowhere to park. It turned out to be the only inversion we’d see at all in the two weeks we spent on the island. Last time Ali had returned to the car within a few minutes, and this time she didn’t feel inclined to join me at all, instead settling down in the passenger seat with the novel she’d found among our host’s bookshelves. Last time I’d been rescued by a group of Slovenians when I almost lost myself as night poured onto the high fogbound plain of the Serra do Paul. But this time I knew where the big car park was, and as I made my way towards the forest I took regular phone snaps of especially distinctive specimens as a kind of map back to it later. You really don’t want to get lost up here in the mist when the darkness is just around the corner. Even during the daytime it was noticeably chilly here at eleven hundred metres in comparison to the warmer air somewhere down there at sea level. For now it was clear, but I could see that wasn’t going to last. Fantastic from a photography perspective, less so from a getting back to the car safely point of view.
And as I arrived among the characters of the forest, the fog began to swirl in among the trees, swallowing up the hinterland and reducing the world to a space no larger than the size of a modest football pitch, separating the protagonists from one another and wrapping us in an eerie silence. I know of people who’ve been here and come away complaining about the clear conditions, yet I’d been fortunate enough to take my shots in a pea souper on each of the two visits I made. And then there were those amazing forms emerging from the shroud and driving the imagination into the world of Tolkein. Every scene seemed to represent something, such as the silent disco in the clouds here. I see dancers, one of them clapping their hands about their head like Mick Jagger on stage, while Tree Beard in the foreground wears a huge crown of foliage and shimmies across the floor in front of a watching audience.
I could easily have spent entire days up here wandering around, familiarising myself with the cast of this outlandish show in the sky, but it wasn’t a photography trip and I knew this would be the last chance to come here this time. On a clearer day I might have strayed further, to the less visited corners of the forest, but I wanted to make sure I found my way back without having to be saved by strangers this time. For now this was more than enough as the voiceless figures twisted and weaved their mysterious moves in front of me, bridging the distance between dreams and reality in this magical land above the clouds.
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There were a number of Painted Storks (Mycteria leucocephala) fishing in the Pulicat lake. He is one of them.
Painted Stork is a large wading bird in the stork family. It is found in the wetlands of Indian Subcontinent and Southeast Asia.
They forage in flocks in shallow waters along rivers or lakes. They nest colonially in trees, often along with other waterbirds. Interestingly the only sounds the adults produce are weak moans or bill clattering at the nest. While young storks are able to call loudly till 18 months, the adults are voiceless.
From my archives.
Many thanks to all those who view, fav or comment my pictures. I very much appreciate it.
Nonethless, as a voiceless wind-up bird unable to wind the world's spring, I decided to go flying through the summer sky - which turned out to be fairly easy. Once you were up, all you had to do was flap your wings at the right angle to adjust direction and altitude. My body mastered the art in a moment and sent me flying effortlessly wherever I wanted to go. I looked at the world from the wind-up bird's vantage point. Whenever i had had enough flying, I would land on a branch and peer through the green leaves at rooftops and roads. I watched people moving over the ground, carrying on the functions of life. Unfortunately, though, I could not see my own body. This was because I had never once seen the wind-up bird and had no idea what it looked like.
For a long time - how long could it have been? - I remained the wind-up bird. But being the wind-up bird never got me anywhere. The flying part was fun, of course, but I couldn't go on having fun for ever. There was something I had to accomplish down here in the darkness at the bottom of the well. I stopped being the wind-up bird and returned to being myself.
(Haruki Murakami - excerpt from The Wind-up Bird Chronicle)
ek4t3.bandcamp.com/album/various-artists
www.instagram.com/p/CGe_k_YHy9T
Co-release by Cian Orbe [Witch Spectra] netlabel & EK4T3
This v/a compilation contains single tracks of some of the most important Cian Orbe/Witch Spectra artists & collaborators. Netlabels created by Sábila Orbe, from Rancagua, Chile.
With the support of Mist Spectra in cover artworks and contact with the artists.
Artwork manipulated by D#27 [EK4T3]
01 Insatiable Void - Forlorn Revenant
02 NVRS - Deths
03 Dariusz Jackowski -Sadyba KaBasznikowa
04 ангел-Catalyst - Pharaoh
05 Filmy Ghost - Dead Vanity
06 Humanfobia - Hantu Raya
07 α Ori & RAUPPWAR - The Laboratory
08 Tone Tone - OSEF track
09 Posthuman Tantra - Homem Vegetal
10 Cosmic Disruption Orchestra - Song of the voiceless (Humanfobia Remix)
11 Wataame Hazuki - Nengebishoujoou
12 Aura en el Espejo - Aún
13 ImpulseGame - Dreams in the Witch House (Humanfobia Remix)
14 Mu Tiny & Myrh - Roses with the Apples (Short Version)
15 Mysie - I Kiss The Grave
16 Confield - 144745
Photo taken at Pususaari
December
hearts are sleeping under snow.
December
everything fades but nothing moves.
December.
The world just wants it to last.
December
like a night too pure to pass.
Words fall silent under street light
glow.
The city sings with a voiceless tone.
Shadows drift along, the rivers flow,
and I lose a little of myself alone.
I feel the cold reach gently for my
soul.
Music Mood
Pic By Pammy
Skeleton Staff
On a journey ill
My mind floats astray
Over withered fields
I cross the river
This shortness of breath
Between birth and grave
Fading in the distance
I am nothing
Watch the skeleton dance
Dancing on my grave
My frozen hour of death
Watch the skeleton dance
On my grave
My frozen hour of death
Here I am alone
Casting my own shadows
Traversing the mundane
Desperate cry
Boundless darkness
A voiceless fear
Unheard, unseen
It is coming near
Watch the skeleton dance
Dancing on my grave
My frozen hour of death
Watch the skeleton dance
Here I am - alone
Had I not known
That I was dead
I would have mourned
My loss of life
Loss of life
Watch the skeleton dance
Dancing on my grave
My frozen hour of death
Watch the skeleton dance
On my grave
My frozen hour of death
Between birth and grave
Here I am alone
Nothing is more fascinating than the train, its puffing makes you feel alive and full of hope,
like its shrill whistle.
From station to station, the world changes your vision.
Lovers' kisses, family and their luggage,
those who get off and on quickly, waving their arms.
The stationmaster, sweaty and voiceless,
the click-clack of the tracks begins to
be heard, the train begins to depart,
and you begin to dream…
(my)
She held a lot of pain.
Behind her eyes, in her heart.
She used to be held, now she falls apart.
The story unknown, Tangled & voiceless.
Like broken glass,
She was left
shattered.
♥Puzzles
♥ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛꜱ♥
Head:Ryn-Lelutka
Shape:Ryo-Wren's Nest
Skin:Song-The Skinnery
♥ᴄʟᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛꜱ♥
HAIR:Coven(without hat)-DOUX
Top:-Authentic-Tucked in topsBlueberry
A collaboration between goat transforming into a cathedral
and myself.
Inspired by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley's "Frankenstein"
Tiny Sisymbrium officinale down through the ages has been hailed as a plant which, made into a syrup, heals hoarseness and other voice problems. In French one of its names is 'Herbe aux chantres', and Jacques Daléchamps (1513-1588) recommends it especially to choir boys. Our Bee, though, is voiceless but gathers from Hedge Mustard nutritious pollens.
I count the grains of sand on the beach and measure the sea,
I understand the speech of the mute and hear the voiceless.
Unable to sleep, I walk the streets of the old harbor at night. I have always felt drawn to these dark waters, as if there was some distant, hypnotizing force constantly pulling on my soul from beneath the waves. The allure of this voiceless siren is so very strong, I can not help but obey their command to come join them. Yet I have hidden in my subconscious the darkest terror of what I may find waiting for me at the source of this enchanting call.
Excerpt from Wikipedia:
The Aleksis Kivi Memorial (Finnish: Aleksis Kiven muistopatsas) is a statue dedicated to the Finnish author Aleksis Kivi (1834–1872), designed and sculpted by Wäinö Aaltonen.
Unveiled on 10 October 1939, the bronze statue is located in the Helsinki Railway Square, in front of the Finnish National Theatre. The statue, along with most of Helsinki's public artwork, is owned and maintained by the Helsinki Art Museum. The sculpture was originally chosen through a contest; Aaltonen's submission was originally a more abstract cubist piece, but the selection committee chose him with the caveat that he would redesign the statue to be more realistic in appearance.
The memorial depicts a contemplative (even melancholic) Kivi sitting in a chair. On the chair are reliefs inspired by three of Kivi's works: Sydämeni laulu, Keinu and Seitsemän veljestä pakenee Impivaarasta. The back of the chair features two stanzas from his poem, Ikävyys ("Melancholy"):
Mi ikävyys,
mi hämäryys sieluni ympär
kuin syksy-iltainen autiol maal?
Turha vaiva täällä,
turha ompi taistelo
ja kaikkisuus maailman, turha!
En taivasta
mä tahdo, en yötä Gehennan,
enp' enään neitosta syliini suo.
Osani vain olkoon:
tietämisen tuskast pois.
kaik' äänetön tyhjyys olkoon.
What dreadness dear,
what gloaming gloom looms round my soul
like an autumn's eve in a barren land?
All here is vain,
the strife the struggle vain
the world's wide wholeness, vain!
No heav'nly joy
want I, no Gehennan midnight,
no maid e'er again in my arms shall I take.
My lot, be it e'er only:
away from the aches of knowing,
let all be the voiceless void.
Yesterday I had a flying visit (oh....not literally, though I wish I had a pair of wings!) for 2 hours to Vedanthangal Bird Sanctuary. This is the breeding season for the Painted Storks. They are busily building nests. Some of them have already completed the nest, laid the eggs and sitting on it.
Painted Stork is a large wading bird in the stork family. It is found in the wetlands of Indian Subcontinent and Southeast Asia.
They forage in flocks in shallow waters along rivers or lakes. They nest colonially in trees, often along with other waterbirds. Interestingly the only sounds the adults produce are weak moans or bill clattering at the nest. While young storks are able to call loudly till 18 months, the adults are voiceless.
I cropped the picture a little.
Recommended viewing in Large. Just click on the picture or press L.
Anonymous for the Voiceless are an animal rights organisation founded in Melbourne, but now are global using their voices for justice for animals.
A Cube of Truth is a peaceful street activism demonstration where each person in the cube either holds a Truth sign or a device that plays graphic and powerful footage of animal exploitation.
An artistic interpretation of a photograph taken during a Cube of Truth exercise in Melbourne a couple of years ago.
These folk deserve our huge respect.