View allAll Photos Tagged afraid
My mother never admitted to being afraid of dogs, but by the time I was in college, I finally figured out the real reason why I couldn't have one when I was a kid. She wasn't allergic, but I was certainly gullible.
When Sharon and I married in early 1964, we moved from L.A. to Eugene, OR. On our own, who knew what trouble we could get into. In March, we were walking in downtown Eugene, and there in a pet shop window, along with Patti Page singing "How Much is That Doggie in the Window," there was this adorable ball of cotton with four legs. Without a clue about parenting a dog, we walked out with an 8 week old Sealeyham Terrier, a leash, collar, two bowls. and not a clue as to how to bring up "Perky."
Well, while not the brightest dog, he was certainly the sweetest, most loyal, loveable, fun and car loving dog we would ever have. We spoiled him - of course - and after saying all the way home that he would not be in bed with us, at 10 PM, guess who was between the pillows!
No question, but he was going to need training. Just so happened that Bob Butts a Springfield trainer who said, "I can train any dog, no matter how young or old." Well, Perky should be a snap. Always wanting to please and/or play although, since both words started with "p" he got confused at times.
Bob had us go through the Sit/Stay Come/Down and that's about as far as we needed to go. I mean, WE knew what they meant. Now, Perky did try his best: Bob had us line our dogs, 18 plus Moose, the Great Dane, in a row 20 feet from us, the owned. We walked away, and turned to face our dogs. Seventeen were sitting and waiting for the next command to come. Half-way down the line, one dog was lying on his back and staring at ME over his shoulders. Well, at least he was staying.
Now, Perky knew that upon the command, "Come," he was supposed to run to a point three feet in front of me, then sit, and wait for "Heel."
"Perky, come!" Faster than a speeding bullet, he took off on a newly waxed gym, floor, stopped six feet in front of me and slid on his butt the rest of the way to my feet. He looked up - look at those eyes - and I, of course, said "Good boy."
Oh, boy, oh boy, oh boy. I did something right, and he pranced around me and jumped into my arms which we slightly prepared. I put him down, and he began to limp. Oh, oh! I had injured my dog. Have to get him to the vet. And he limped through the rest of the exercises. Finally, diploma firmly in teeth, I said, "Okay, Perk. Let;s go home." Miracle of miracles, no limp. He was cured and jumped into the back set of the car and took up what was to be his position for the next seven years: pack feet on the back seat; front paws around my neck while I drove. Even a ten our trip from Carson City to Las Vegas two years later, he held that position.
We loved that dog, and he reciprocated. When our daughter was born, we'd put her on a blanket in the middle of the living room. It was killing the dog that he was not supposed to be on the blanket, but he wanted to be friends with this new critter in his home. Literally, inch by inch, he got onto the blanket and after two weeks, there he was, giving Jennifer he first doggy bath.
That was the story of this marvelous dog. He had a good life. He rode 50,000 miles as we traveled the west. He got to guard Jen. And he learned how to open a cabinet and grab a Lorna Doone but then he would come and show us his new trick and swallow it before we could move or stop laughing (very bad form).
When Perky was seven, he had cancer. Stomach cancer. The whys, whens, and how longs didn't last long. In the toughest day of my life and the saddest day, I had to take him in and say goodbye while he was finally removed from the obvious pain. I cried then. I'm crying now.
It would be another kid and seven years before we got another dog, Patch (we weren't creative with names), who you'll meet next Sunday.
No matter what the info at the right says, this picture was taken on May 25, 1964 with a Kodak Retina III or IV. I don't remember which. I do remember that, with just a 50mm lens, it weighed 5 pounds! I also remember vividly that Perky was the only dog who owned us who allowed his picture to be taken. Btw, you may never see a Sealeyham Terrier. I don't know why they weren't that popular, but breeders stopped breeding them, and started breeding Lakelands, Norfolks, Norwichs, and Wire Fox Terriers. You'll meet two of those plus a Cairn in the following weeks.
Tea bags.
[Just a warning: What follows here is a satirical piece for the Macro Mondays theme April Fools. The attempt at humour is based on the caricature of the insular English as a linguistically arrogant (and ignorant) and xenophobic people.
I'm very aware, though, that humour often doesn't travel well over water. Please be assured the thoughts expressed are not those of the management!]
The British are a nation of tea drinkers.
As you’d also expect from the world’s fifth largest economy we are not afraid to lead the world in embracing the modern. And a prime example is the tea bag.
The main advantage of this life-changing invention is that you can so easily hang them out on the line to dry, ready for the next use. Gone are the days of scraping out tea strainers and spreading the contents on trays to dry in the sun (or, more likely, to be blown away).
Thus we preserve our life line of infusions - the more important in these days of diminishing Empire, when confounded upstart democracies threaten our supply chain!
Tea drying by any method, of course, creates a problem when faced with our climate. Constant drizzle, cold grey fog, damp chill winds, or even deluging downpours are certainly not good for drying the little bags.
But British ingenuity, like so often in history, is not to be underestimated.
We have designed little drying racks to stand the tea bags before the kitchen fires, or even (in lower establishments) the living-room hearths.
The better British households also have wooden frames attached to pulleys which can hoist the desiccating bags up to the room ceilings where the drier and warmer air pools.
I have heard, reliably too, that some of the very modern hovels are obliged to forego fires and instead have a curious thing called central heating that involves warming water in radiators.
I’m surprised it works. I think it’s mainly the lower classes that have them because they can’t afford the servants to make the fires.
But even here British inventiveness knows no bounds - you can get little racks to hang on the radiators to dry your tea bags. I kid you not - I have seen them advertised on Amazon!
So tea remains the drink of choice of the landed classes. I am trying to avoid mentioning the vile craze at the moment amongst the peasantry for that roasted bean thingy from Ethiopia.
I am certain this will never catch on and is just a passing fad - we are far too sensible as a nation.
I mean whatever good came out of South America? Just think of the ghastly tango!! Not to say anything about the slumba, rambo, and sizla or whatever they are: those corrupt orgiastic gyrations promoted as exercise by dodgy gyms. Proof, if any were needed, that exercise was a Bad Thing.
Ahah! The would-be geographer of the family has mentioned that Ethiopia isn’t in South America.
It matters not to the cut and thrust of my argument. My firm riposte was that as there are only two languages in the world, English and Foreign, that it is fair to conclude there are only two countries worthy of mention: Britain and Foreign. That Foreign is spread across several continents is immaterial to the point.
And, in any case, most areas of Foreign (all the good bits anyway) have been successfully invaded by our colonists. So that’s all well and good (as long as they pay their tea tax of course).
Sorry. I shouldn’t let it get me so wound up.
I am meandering off-piste. (Don’t you just love the way the British integrate so well with the world! The way they graciously include words of Foreign in the mother tongue… especially when they don’t really understand them (and, no, I’m not going to ask what off-piste really means in this forum).
This is an image of my tea bags.
I am, I admit, a particularly sophisticated tea drinker, having different types of tea to suit the changing hours of the day.
For Breakfast I have… er… English Breakfast (OK, so perhaps I’m not that sophisticated...), a strong tasty tea with plenty of backbone to get me going in the morning.
At Lunchtime I have a more refined, delicate tea: Earl Grey, a blend of light Indian teas and the rind from the bitter bergamot orange. This acts as a pick me up and keeps me going (mainly to the loo, it has to be said, though that may be a detail too far for this family-friendly group...).
Then at Teatime a bit of refinement with pure Ceylon: a delectable flavoursome tea with a beautiful orange colour. Delicious! (And more going...)
I label the pegs so I know which bag is which and prevent disasterous confusion of the types. The different colours help further in the dim light of dawn...
And if my viewer thought BLT stood for the ingredients of a sandwich, I am afraid you are a little behind the times. The cognoscenti (which I think means the finely perfumed classes) now have Sbam sandwiches (Streaky Bacon, mashed Avocado and Mayonnaise). Even the riff-raff of British society have always loved sbam sandwiches…
Thank you for taking the time to look. I hope you enjoy the image (though if you do it is probably a reasonable cause for concern…). Happy Macro Mondays :)
[Handheld in daylight (not the teabags, obviously). Brutally cropped to the size requirements of the group. I mean you wanted to see more, right? :) ]
Boise: What if I'm not a good painter?
Leonard the fox: As Van Gogh once said, "What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?"
Ground beetles, like this great blackclock (Pterostichus niger), also known as the great black ground beetle are predatory and use their speed to chase down theirt prey on foot.
The same speed is obviously also a handy tool when there is a big photographer who sticks a lens in your face so they very often tend to try and run away.
My son found Mr. Blackclock here on the narrow walking path next to triver at the Mjällådalen nature reserve near Härnösand, Sweden (which as far north as Anchorage, Alaska is) and it immediately try to run out in the tall grass to get away.
Hoping to stop it, I put my hand down in front of it which made it change course and run in another direction. So I moved my hand to stop him there and after repeating this a couple of times, he decided to try a new tactic and tried to bite the finger blocking him.
Now there was no real damage to the finger, more like a pinch, but those mandibles look a bit more scary when you know they aren't afraid to use them.
He (or she, I suppose) stayed still for a little bit though - this is a two exposure focus stack for some extra depth of field.Part 1 is a two exposure focus stack here: www.flickr.com/photos/tinyturtle/54750311149/
"This city is afraid of me. I have seen its true face. The streets are extended gutters and the gutters are full of blood and when the drains finally scab over, all the vermin will drown. The accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will foam up about their waists and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout "Save us!"... and I'll look down and whisper 'No.' "
"No. Never compromise. Not even in the face of Armageddon. Never compromise."
I loved both of these quotes form him, and I couldn't decide which one to pick, so I decided to pick both. :P
The torso might get some critiscm, but personally I like it. I'm not the biggest fan of the Plo Koon torso, mainly beccause of the belt (looks a bit too sci-fi), so I searched for a different torso, and I found this one. I think it looks alright. I wanted to make my own version of him, so that's the reason I gave the torso. In case you're wondering why that leg piece ? Well I tried it with bare Black legs, but it didn't look too great, but when I tried this, it looked pretty cool.
I just gave Walter a new face and yellow hands. I would've given him the Agents hair in orange, but I couldn't find one at the time.
You've seen this one before, not much has changed except no Trenchcoat.
Well that's all of my Watchmen figures! But I've decided to make another one anyway. :P But this time, I want you to choose which one. So you have the choice between:
Nite-Owl I (Hollis Mason)
Hooded Justice
Moloch
Vote who you would like to see in the comments below! :D After 48 Hours, whoever has the most votes, is who I will make.
After two days of tough hike on a steep ascent; at last we reached to Sirkhata Lake. In this hike, we also have crossed an unnamed mountain pass which was above 4300 meter in height. This pass located in north-east direction of Sirkhata Lake.
The next question for us was to decide which route we should opt for returning back. We got three options; first, was to be choosing the same trek from which, we had descended down the earlier day to this valley; i.e. the north east mountain pass but that doesn’t end up at Supat Pass and we wanted to see that as well. Also that trek was quite tough and the last portion of this pass was too steep, it was difficult to climb this portion in snow without having proper gear.
Second option was to trek up to Shames village and then hike on jeep road up to Supat top. According to locals it is a lengthier route and would take a full day to reach Supat top. Even reaching Shames village would take three to four hours from Sirkhata Lake. Before going to this trek I have checked Shames village altitude on Google Earth, it was around 3400 meter and from there going to Supat top was something a hike of 9 km in which we again have to gain an altitude of 1000 meter. So we left the idea of going on this route as well.
Locals insist us to choose a third option a shorter route for our return, that was a mountain pass run in North West direction of upstream of Sirkhata Lake. We were little afraid for choosing this ‘mountain route pass’ at first, because earlier day the mountain pass which we have crossed in north-west direction was full covered in snow and there were portions where snow was very hard and unfortunately because of not having proper snow gear, I slipped there four times.
We came to know that a day before our arrival a villager have crossed this pass to enter in valley. He was the first one to do so in this season, he told us though the pass is totally covered in snow but the condition of snow was not hard. So his words gave us confidence to choose this route.
Next day we got up early in the morning, we started our trek around 6:30 a.m., The weather was clear in the morning. Kohastani’s have interesting and hospitable customs. Before leaving everybody again came to meet with us. Earlier night Salman distribute candies among children’s. Every Children eye was glittering with expression of thanks. Also some Villagers hold our luggage and came with us for some distance and then say goodbye to us this is there tradition. We don’t have words of thanks for love and care shown to us by Sirkhata villagers.
We started hiking upstream of Sirkhata Lake along the small glacial streams. After hiking for one hour, a never ending glacier has started, initially for next 30 minutes the slope on glacier was gradual, than again the tough steep ascent started that was also all covered in snow. We reached at first ridge the height there was around 4300 meter. Still there was no sign of pass, we again started hiking and reached another mountain top but was also not pass. We were standing in different world it was vast mountain pasture all covered in snow. There was feeling in the mind at that time that we were standing in Antarctica, because the white was the only color we could see in all four directions.
Now we could see a mountain series running in west direction, but still our porters were not sure about the actual direction of pass. It was almost five hours that we have left Sirkhata Lake. We did not meet any other human in our way, a panic start creeping, both Salman and me watching each other faces and asked the porters in nervousness where is the pass? The answer was of more desperation, “Sir, I will not tell a lie with you, I am not from this area, I am not sure about the Pass.”
We could see a mountain range running on our west side, but it is almost impossible to cross this in this season without proper maintaining gear. Among this series there was a ridge which was of lower height. Salman GPS knowledge helped at that time, he confirmed that only this could be the respective mountain pass. It looks almost a straight wall of more than 30 meter height covered in snow. We sent one of our porters first at top; he asked us to wait, He still was not confirmed at last he saw a human some 200 meters down on other side and he started shouting, “Come up”. It was moment of relief. It was a straight climb, thanks to our porters that we able to reach at top without having any proper maintaining gear.
The scene from top were amazing, we could see a snow covered Supat & Maheen top from there.
Our journey still not end, we have to descend down from this pass and have to trek on snow againto reach Supat top. I will share that detail in next chapter.
I don’t know how the Valley of Dreams got its name -- perhaps from the German explorers who found it (joke! (the Germans seem to know more about the desert southwest than we natives do)) -- but it seems to me to be appropriate. It is an inaccessible place that can be reached only by driving down about 15 miles of dirt road, then a couple of miles of sandy jeep trail of varying quality, and finally half a mile of no trail at all.The view in this photo is looking north from the southern edge. Just over the hood of the car you can see the first stand of hoodoos. About half a mile beyond that one sees the second stand, and half a mile further north (where you see the red hills) is the third and most impressive area.
My truck can make it to the middle set. I was parked there, sitting in my folding chair in the shade of the truck and trying to wait out the late afternoon heat, when I saw on the horizon a large white panel truck. It was located near where I was standing when I took this photo. I watched it drive back and forth for a while and considered that it was probably a local rancher moving some cattle or horses, but it didn’t seem like the kind of truck for that purpose.
Eventually I lost interest in the truck and went to take some shots of the hoodoos behind me. Later I came back to my chair. I noticed a person walking toward me from the panel truck. He was far away and I had some time to speculate on his intent. I began to wonder if I should be afraid. This area is a checkerboard of patches of BLM, private, and Navajo land, each about a square mile in area. It’s so mixed up you can’t know for sure where you are with regard to property boundaries. So I wondered if the person coming toward me was a local rancher who was going to tell me to get off his property, or a crazed drug addict who would rob and murder me, or just another photographer.
As he came closer, I noticed that he was wearing knee-length shorts, which led me to believe with some relief that he belonged to the final category. Indeed, this was the case.
I rose from my chair as he approached and we shook hands. He asked me how I got my truck there and if I knew whether I was on BLM land or not. We discussed whether his truck could make it and decided that it probably couldn’t. He said that he would just have to carry his equipment from where the truck was parked on the horizon. He told me that he was getting footage for an IMAX movie about the Southwest. I offered to drive over in my truck and load up his equipment but told him I wouldn’t be available to help him carry it back. He declined the offer.
I told him that I was about to set up for a time lapse sequence during the night in the hoodoos behind us and hoped that we wouldn’t interfere with each other. He headed back to his truck and I went over the hill to set up my camera and get the time lapse started. Later I saw his truck moving again. After darkness moved in I didn’t see him or the truck until the next morning. As I was eating breakfast, I saw him coming again from his truck. He had a large shoulder pack. He told me that he had gotten stuck in the sand during the night and had to call a tow truck. He must have had a sat phone; I didn’t ask. I did ask about his equipment for shooting IMAX. He uses a Red Epic Dragon, a nice piece of equipment that shoots 6k video and probably costs more than my truck. He uses a Nikon D750 for star photography because of its low noise floor.
He said he was just walking around to explore the area. He had maps and instructions on how to reach promising locations. He knew about most of the prominent features that attract photographers to the area. I gathered that he would be in the area for some time.
After breakfast, I left for the Bisti area.
Rougham estate have had a pick your own sunflower event, today was the last day, probably just as well as the sunflowers are now past their best, still picturesque though
Afraid
HDR 7 scatti
Fotocamera: Nikon D700
Aperture: f/2.8
Shutter Speed: 1/3200 s
Lente: 14 mm
ISO: 200
Exposure Bias: 0 EV
Flash: Off, Did not fire
Lens: Nikkor AF-S FX 14-24mm f/2.8G ED
From the new Maleficent movie starring Angelina Jolie: Dark Beauty Maleficent, Royal Coronation Diaval & Maleficent, made by Jakks Pacific. The dolls are only jointed at the shoulders, elbows and hips. Their legs do not bend. And Maleficent's wings are not removable. Her ears are slightly pointed. :)
Afraid? Scared? Think it will hurt? I know you have thought about it so go ahead.....juuuussstt...... do it!
How I begin my day? Some folks are afraid of the big city. The cold #urban #environment and bus loads of sometimes callous folks. Some say that they would rather be in a small town---where people are friendly and everyone knows each other. I can see those places as providing a safety net for many. But for me, I thrive in the big cities---San Francisco, New York, Paris, London, Rome. I often make friends in places where many people from people. I have found cool folks in #coffeeplaces, #winebars and #restaurants all over #sanfrancisco who are warm, friendly and real human beings. They provide professional service as expected but they they go the extra mile and are real human beings. Yes, life in the big city does not have be cold and ugly. All you have to do is to communicate and be aware of your surroundings. So after stopping and seeing my pals this morning, John and Dominick today at #coffeecultures, I am at my office across of the street ready to taste wines, write and work on my best #photographs. (Photo by: Wilfred Wong, August 25, 2016, San Francisco, CA)
Just when you thought it was safe to get out of the water!!
Checkout my website at www.iLIVESEY.com if you feel so inclined.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Licensing - You are free to: Share / Adapt / Use for any purpose (including commercially)
"Cease to know or to tell
or to see or to be your own.
Cease to know or to tell
or to see or to be your own.
Have someone else's
will as your own.
Have someone else's
will as your own –
You are beautiful
and you are alone.
You are beautiful
and you are alone..."
- Nico
'Afraid'
Model: Camilla@Glamour
MUAH: Sabina Pinsone
Styling: Chiara Valvo
Ph: Manuela Iodice
Published on Papercut
Skógafoss waterfall, Iceland June 2014. 3 pictures stitched together with Microsoft ICE and edited in PS.
Press 'L' for bigger view
The title is a lyric from Nick Cave's "Mercy Seat". It's arguably silly to use the words "And anyway I told the truth, and I'm not afraid to die" as a tribute to a paragon of virtue like The Lone Ranger when the song's about a man on death row who concludes his sad tale of paranoia and self-justification with the words "but I'm afraid I told a lie," but here we are.
As the last bit of the solar disc was covered the sky darkened and venus became visible. At the same time this ring of fire appeared in the sky. The entire crowd elicited a collective sigh of amazement and then broke into cheers of joy.
Just before leaving for Greenville I looked at the cloudy sky and was afraid the cloud cover was going to prevent a good viewing of the eclipse. I said a prayer for clear skies and feel very grateful I got to see this marvelous event. Is it coincidence that it began to rain about 15 minutes after the sun reappeared?
The area of totality was only about 50 miles north of Hilton Head but I decided to make the extra effort to evade the coastal haze and clouds. That is why we decided to go to Greenville, SC to witness the event.
There was a lot of traffic on the highways. I spoke to people who had driven from Florida, New Jersey, Charlotte, Georgia and that was just a small random sample of people that were near us at the Fair Grounds. I also met a family that had driven up from Hilton Head and we exchanged information. Please enjoy my other posts from today which include a short video of the crowd reacting to totality as well as a shot of the beautiful rainbow we saw on the way home.
Utkiksplatsen på Sveriges sydligaste udde, Smygehuk, var helt övergiven denna vackra sommardag med rekordvärme bara för att ingen ville bli våt när vågorna slog över räcket.
The vantage point on the southernmost cape of Sweden, Smygehuk, was completely abandoned this beautiful summer day with record heat only because no one wanted to get wet when the waves struck over the railing.
Explore 2013-08-03
==================================================================
You May License This Image Here Getty Images
To see all my photos available for Licensing on Getty Images, click on this link All Getty Images by HBMike2000
==================================================================
As the early morning sun's flames reached over the high mountain tops, it's golden rays of light wound it's way through the slats in my window and slapped me awake. Would today be the day?
I quickly showered, got dressed, petted a mound of cat hair I swear was a cat and grabbed my trusty compass I purchased from a vending machine for a dime in front of a grocery store over two decades ago. I hoped today would be the day.
With compass in hand, I headed North by Northwest. I was looking for something local, something new. It's a new day's adventure and today HAD to be the day!
Finally, I came across some of the native wild life. I slowly approached, hoping not to startle it. It was a fine specimen too. Slowly. It looked up at me, our eyes met. I was afraid it was going to run but it didn't. Closer. It showed signs of running but held it's ground. Finally, I was close enough. "Excuse me sir, Could you pull my finger?" Today wasn't the day.
View with your local wildlife
for
Our Daily Challenge: Discovery
You can buy this picture here.
Blog.
Shot taken for the Igp Project Photographer 3 (the one I sent for the challenge is in comments).
Theme of this challenge: CONCEPTUAL PHOTOGRAPHY.
The concept here was not that much clear, I know.
See it on Fluidr
All my images are copyrighted. Please, do not use them without my allowance. Thank you.
Challenged myself to take my 45mm 1.8 lens for my Covid Lockdown walk today. Photographed this 3 metre tall tuatara from the Who's Afraid sculpture. (See a previous post of this sculpture: flic.kr/p/2iNF7vu)
The "Who's Afraid" sculpture was unveiled outside the Regent Theatre in Broadway on 3 July 2011. It is by local artist, Paul Dibble. The sculpture is in bronze of blue-green patina. The two contrasting pieces challenge each other, physically and metaphorically. The taller, the dancer, stands 3.5 metres. eying the 3 metre tall tuatara. Paul Dibble said, "Because it's for the Regent Theatre, it's about drama, acting out emotions and feelings. I've called it Who's Afraid, but I'm not too sure if she's alarmed or trying to scare the tuatara. There is also a fair bit of joy in her and that's because theatre is about all those emotions."
The only difference between him and us, is that we are the freaking animals and he is just a victim of our selfishness and our lack of common sense.
The photo was taken in Concepcion's Zoo, It is a real proof of The Animal Abuse in front our eyes,
What are we doing about this terrible situation? NOTHING...
Photoshoot with the Vamps. 3. Feeding Time.
Last of the Mono's (blue tint) before a few colour shots - that's after a pause or two. You know what they say - "Too much of the same thing......"
It gets better after this :-) After food, the colour comes in :-)))))))
Nikon 16-85mm VR lens
"I have always been afraid of Judaeo-Bolsheviks." -Sitka Hood, last known Pacific Union holdout
That's quite a thing to say given you're riding in a commie tank, girl. Anyways, I wanted to make my T-72ish thing smaller. Small enough that it looked small with minifigs. I was also fooling around with flags and missed my black-blue-white tricolor. Oh, better days those were... See below for the girl's story. But here's what I'm most pleased with:
Lego dimensions:
22 studs in hull, 32 studs gun forward
10 studs wide
~7.5 studs high
Real dimensions:
Length 22 ft 10 in hull, 31 ft 3 in gun forward
Width 11 ft 9 in
Height 7 ft 4 in
Pretty close, huh? And now, DC4 kids, I'm not assuming cold war will be our next theme. This is a personal project that I've been working on for a bit, as Ian and Victis/Argolit can attest to.
And now for Awe to be a sperglord about a geopolitical/military Lego roleplaying game played years ago: Sitka "Hood" was a character from the extensive PCU canon shared between Nick and I. The one based on Diplomats and Legions 1, where Ultra shrekt us with his Western Confederation and superior fighting abilities. That's right DC4 kids, Team Awe has had their collective asses handed to them in the past, and more than once. Sitka here was a biorobot made partially with the DNA of Governor Hood, who was also the AI of the Lyra prototype. Yeah, the PCU canon was really... different from the legal portrayal in the groups. Sitka and her submarine end up forming the core of a small fleet that escape Ultra's dudes when they capture Astoria, OR, the PCU fleet headquarters. My explanation for this picture is that Sitka and her die-hard fighters made a portal to another universe and went there. BTW the PCU canon had teleporters in 2037. Not even ashamed, just like our playstyle, the PCU lore was way over the top.
(more in comments)
An everyday daydreamer
A foreign and unintentional loss of focus
A lack of determination, passion, desire
Blinded by the blizzard’s turbulent snow
I am lost.
Lost and tormented by my own being
Trapped and heartbroken within myself
I cannot save me, at least not now
I must wait a little longer
But I am anxious.
Anxious to get out
Eager to escape this box
This loathed path of suffocation
A world without creativity
I am in anguish.
Anguish inflicted by my own mistakes
Why had I listened to anyone but myself?
This is my life, not theirs
Oh, the pressure and restrictions
I have been stupid.
Stupid to be so naïve
To have believed everything they said as the only truth
Adhering to rigidity when born to run free
The misfortune of discovering oneself too late
I am afraid.
-Jessica Marie Matteazzi
...
Listen to my favourite song at the moment.
I was afraid I was going to miss the Sandhills at Salton Sea this year. I don't think I've been there in February, but we found more birds than usual, so I was extremely happy! I'm using a newly acquired Sigma 150-600 lens, and I'm still somewhat "challenged" in getting the hang of it. So many Sandhills were in the air, I had to contain my enthusiasm and try to focus on one or two birds at a time...NOT AN EASY TASK! These two were in such a nice position...I'm happy my focus found them before they were high in the sky!
Member of the Nature’s Spirit
Good Stewards of Nature