Your Cell Phone Picture
View allAll Photos Tagged aptitude,
This was such a friendly fearsome fellow with a great aptitude when hungry. I was having a coffee and a few biscuits at one of my local nature reserve when this chap landed on the table scoffing down any biscuit crumbs he could find to eat. One minute he was the table then the seat next to me, my shoulder, and to top it all he'd constantly kept landing on my woolly hat on my head being very vocal and flapping his wings until he got another crumb. Christmas came a bit early for me this year as Mr Robin left a few presents on my beloved favourite woolly green hat, he pooped all over it, lol. In the 1400's when the Robin was named the colour orange had not been classified and this is why we say that the Robin has a red breast and not orange. Its about time that the Robin became the national bird of the UK just like America that has an eagle as their national bird.
La Sittelle torchepot ( Sitta europaea ) est un oiseau dit cavernicole en ce sens qu'il niche dans un trou d'arbre, plus rarement dans une cavité de mur ou de rocher. Il occupe souvent un nid vacant de pic. Il ne creuse que très rarement sa propre cavité. C'est en squattant les logis abandonnés d'oiseaux plus grands que la Sittelle torchepot fait preuve d'une autre originalité. En effet le trou de vol étant trop grand pour ses besoins, elle s'emploie à le rétrécir afin qu'il n'atteigne que 29-3l mm, ce qui en interdit l'entrée à d'autres candidats, comme l'étourneau par exemple.
C'est le travail de la femelle. Au moyen de boulettes de terre ou d'argile imprégnées de salive, elle maçonne soigneusement un chambranle aux dimensions voulues. C'est cette aptitude qui lui a valu le qualificatif de torchepot (torchis).
****************************************************************
The Eurasian Nuthatch (Sitta europaea) is a so-called cavernicolous bird in that it nests in a tree hole, more rarely in a wall or rock cavity. It often occupies a vacant peak nest. It rarely digs its own cavity. It is by squatting abandoned houses of larger birds that the Nuthatch torchepot is showing another originality. Indeed the flight hole being too big for its needs, it works to shrink it so that it reaches only 29-3l mm, which prohibits entry to other candidates, such as the starling for example.
It's the work of the female. By means of saliva-impregnated clay or clay balls, she carefully masonates a jamb to the desired dimensions. It is this ability that earned him the name of torchpot (mud).
La Sittelle torchepot ( Sitta europaea ) est un oiseau dit cavernicole en ce sens qu'il niche dans un trou d'arbre, plus rarement dans une cavité de mur ou de rocher. Il occupe souvent un nid vacant de pic. Il ne creuse que très rarement sa propre cavité. C'est en squattant les logis abandonnés d'oiseaux plus grands que la Sittelle torchepot fait preuve d'une autre originalité. En effet le trou de vol étant trop grand pour ses besoins, elle s'emploie à le rétrécir afin qu'il n'atteigne que 29-3l mm, ce qui en interdit l'entrée à d'autres candidats, comme l'étourneau par exemple.
C'est le travail de la femelle. Au moyen de boulettes de terre ou d'argile imprégnées de salive, elle maçonne soigneusement un chambranle aux dimensions voulues. C'est cette aptitude qui lui a valu le qualificatif de torchepot (torchis).
****************************************************************
The Eurasian Nuthatch (Sitta europaea) is a so-called cavernicolous bird in that it nests in a tree hole, more rarely in a wall or rock cavity. It often occupies a vacant peak nest. It rarely digs its own cavity. It is by squatting abandoned houses of larger birds that the Nuthatch torchepot is showing another originality. Indeed the flight hole being too big for its needs, it works to shrink it so that it reaches only 29-3l mm, which prohibits entry to other candidates, such as the starling for example.
It's the work of the female. By means of saliva-impregnated clay or clay balls, she carefully masonates a jamb to the desired dimensions. It is this ability that earned him the name of torchpot (mud).
La Sittelle torchepot ( Sitta europaea ) est un oiseau dit cavernicole en ce sens qu'il niche dans un trou d'arbre, plus rarement dans une cavité de mur ou de rocher. Il occupe souvent un nid vacant de pic. Il ne creuse que très rarement sa propre cavité. C'est en squattant les logis abandonnés d'oiseaux plus grands que la Sittelle torchepot fait preuve d'une autre originalité. En effet le trou de vol étant trop grand pour ses besoins, elle s'emploie à le rétrécir afin qu'il n'atteigne que 29-3l mm, ce qui en interdit l'entrée à d'autres candidats, comme l'étourneau par exemple.
C'est le travail de la femelle. Au moyen de boulettes de terre ou d'argile imprégnées de salive, elle maçonne soigneusement un chambranle aux dimensions voulues. C'est cette aptitude qui lui a valu le qualificatif de torchepot (torchis).
****************************************************************
The Eurasian Nuthatch (Sitta europaea) is a so-called cavernicolous bird in that it nests in a tree hole, more rarely in a wall or rock cavity. It often occupies a vacant peak nest. It rarely digs its own cavity. It is by squatting abandoned houses of larger birds that the Nuthatch torchepot is showing another originality. Indeed the flight hole being too big for its needs, it works to shrink it so that it reaches only 29-3l mm, which prohibits entry to other candidates, such as the starling for example.
It's the work of the female. By means of saliva-impregnated clay or clay balls, she carefully masonates a jamb to the desired dimensions. It is this ability that earned him the name of torchpot (mud).
Rain speeds through the streets of Ascension 7, on Leigh's hoverbike, on an adrenaline induced high.
(Photo taken at Sleepy Bay Photo studio)
La Sittelle torchepot ( Sitta europaea ) est un oiseau dit cavernicole en ce sens qu'il niche dans un trou d'arbre, plus rarement dans une cavité de mur ou de rocher. Il occupe souvent un nid vacant de pic. Il ne creuse que très rarement sa propre cavité. C'est en squattant les logis abandonnés d'oiseaux plus grands que la Sittelle torchepot fait preuve d'une autre originalité. En effet le trou de vol étant trop grand pour ses besoins, elle s'emploie à le rétrécir afin qu'il n'atteigne que 29-3l mm, ce qui en interdit l'entrée à d'autres candidats, comme l'étourneau par exemple.
C'est le travail de la femelle. Au moyen de boulettes de terre ou d'argile imprégnées de salive, elle maçonne soigneusement un chambranle aux dimensions voulues. C'est cette aptitude qui lui a valu le qualificatif de torchepot (torchis).
****************************************************************
The Eurasian Nuthatch (Sitta europaea) is a so-called cavernicolous bird in that it nests in a tree hole, more rarely in a wall or rock cavity. It often occupies a vacant peak nest. It rarely digs its own cavity. It is by squatting abandoned houses of larger birds that the Nuthatch torchepot is showing another originality. Indeed the flight hole being too big for its needs, it works to shrink it so that it reaches only 29-3l mm, which prohibits entry to other candidates, such as the starling for example.
It's the work of the female. By means of saliva-impregnated clay or clay balls, she carefully masonates a jamb to the desired dimensions. It is this ability that earned him the name of torchpot (mud).
Atelier peinture sur porcelaine avec les petits-enfants (des points plus ou moins gros semés suivant le goût et l'aptitude de chacun, un atelier qui a beaucoup plu...) .
Porcelain painting workshop with the grandchildren (more or less large points sown according to the taste and the aptitude of each one, a workshop which was very popular ...).
My cocoon tightens, colors tease,
I'm feeling for the air;
A dim capacity for wings
Degrades the dress I wear.
A power of butterfly must be
The aptitude to fly,
Meadows of majesty concedes
And easy sweeps of sky.
So I must baffle at the hint
And cipher at the sign,
And make much blunder, if at last
I take the clew divine.
~ Emily Dickinson ~
I used to tell HR, which for most of my career consisted of my wife...hire attitude, train aptitude :-)
lotus blossom, denver botanical garden, colorado
My baby lives in shades of blue
Blue eyes and jazz and attitude
He lives in California too
He drives a Chevy Malibu
And when he calls
He calls for me, and not for you
He lives for love, he loves his drugs
He loves his baby too
But I can't fix him
Can't make him better
And I can't do nothing about
His strange weather
But you
Are unfixable
I can't break through your world
'Cause you
Live in shades of cool
Your heart is unbreakable
My baby lives in shades of cool
Cool heart and hands and aptitude
He lives for love, for women too
I'm one of many; one is blue
And when he calls
He calls for me, and not for you
He prays for love, he prays for peace
And maybe someone new
But I can't help him
Can't make him better
And I can't do nothing about
His strange weather
'Cause you
Are unfixable
I can't break through your world
'Cause you
Live in shades of cool
Your heart is unbreakable
Your hot, hot weather in the summer
Hot, hot, neglectful lover
Hot, hot weather in the summer
Hot, neglectful lover
You're crumbling, sadly
You're sadly crumbling
'Cause you
Are unfixable
I can't break through your world
'Cause you
Live in shades of cool
Your heart is unbreakable
www.youtube.com/watch?v=rJABBmAMXnY
Location: Salmson Isle.
Le Grand Cormoran est un bel oiseau, largement répandu dans le monde.
Son aptitude à la pêche est soit appréciée et tournée à l’avantage des hommes en Extrême Orient, soit désapprouvée dans plusieurs pays où il est considéré comme un concurrent redoutable et persécuté.
**********************************************************
The Great Cormorant is a beautiful bird, widespread in the world.
His aptitude for fishing is either appreciated and turned to the advantage of men in the Far East, or disapproved in several countries where he is considered a formidable competitor and persecuted.
"You know, if you have the aptitude, you should join the Mage's College in Winterhold."
―Farengar Secret-Fire
The College of Winterhold is a guild of mages. The College is located in the northern section of the city of Winterhold. Instructors of each magical discipline reside within, offering training and various magical wares to members.
Before entering the College, the gatekeeper, Faralda, will wish to see a demonstration of the Dragonborn's magical powers. She requests to see a spell appropriate for the Dragonborn's level before gaining passage.
Tags: #Secondlife #Fantasy #Roleplay #Mage #College #Magic #Dragonborn #Elven
EEP! WL: Anan Adore Light Explosion II
A power of Butterfly must be -
The Aptitude to fly
Meadows of Majesty concedes
And easy Sweeps of Sky -”
― Emily Dickinson
Please take a minute to press L and view in large!
"Well Dad" ? "Did i pass the (cr)aptitude test" ?.......
"Yes son, with flying colours".
"I didn't think any of us could poop on three thousand horses all at once."
A fairly big crop, (part of a birds digestive system) to hi-light the Pigeons.
Square dancing tractors combine the art of dance with agricultural machinery. This unique tradition involves vintage tractors performing choreographed movements, resembling a traditional square dance.
History
Origins
The concept began in 1953 as part of a marketing campaign by International Harvester.
The Farmall Super-C tractors showcased their agility through choreographed performances.
Performance
Four couples operate tractors, moving in sync to mimic square dance steps.
A caller guides the drivers, similar to traditional square dancing.
Skills Required
Tractor Operation
Participants must have knowledge of operating vintage tractors.
Skills include mechanical aptitude and patience.
Dance Coordination
Dancers need impeccable timing and teamwork.
The performance requires both agricultural skills and dance grace.
PHOTO: this tractor appeared to be dancing, so I did some research and found tractors really do dance, square dance that is!
but a great aptitude for patience :-)
George-Louis de Buffon
HFF!!
chrysanthemum, 'Allyson Peace', sarah p duke gardens, duke university, durham, north carolina
Having run out of new material to edit due to my firm belief we should stay the hell home during this pandemic unless there is a very good reason to be out and about so I have reached back into my shot vaults to find some interesting things to work on and edit with a softer hand for a while.
Here there be dragons in this case a horse dragon named Long-Ma part of a show that was brought to Ottawa for a street performance of a story developed in Nantes France by La Machine stage/film creatives with an amazing mechanical aptitude.
Long-Ma pictured here weighs about 40 tons stands 13m high and stretches almost 20m in length at times and it takes a dozen operators to maneuver through the city streets clanking, snorting huge gusts of steam vapor while roaring loud enough to rattle windows all the while huge crowds following his path making the kid in you believe this is somehow real.
I took this on Oct 25, 2020 with my D750 and Nikon 70-300mm 3.5-5.6 Lens at 300mm 1/50 sec f/5.6 ISO3200 processed in LR, PS +Lumenzia, Topaz , and DXO
Disclaimer: My style is a study of romantic realism as well as a work in progress
O Sole Mio, Carlo Bergonzi
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0nNxw7c55Mk
Bunin: Debussy - Arabesque No. 1 in E major
www.youtube.com/watch?v=GStfo_f4L0g
An American living in China talking about the nCoV
www.youtube.com/watch?v=L5rhyBKJXb4
On the Death of Dr. Li in Wuhan
www.youtube.com/watch?v=b-Fy80yHYQo&t=9s
Toscha Seidel - Grieg Violin Sonata #3, Mvt 3
www.youtube.com/watch?v=anTp1BExGes
Raoul Koczalski : Chopin
www.youtube.com/watch?v=fcV3P6zS30Q
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xhfmiuVSnDw
www.youtube.com/watch?v=dFSPMrxTgdk
www.youtube.com/watch?v=au33_fvyJng
www.youtube.com/watch?v=elTSwjBY8nQ
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sOHg33Shwl8
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7fprBFVoMeU
www.youtube.com/watch?v=fmRMyRYYGtQ
Tschaiovsky
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ugn1MPF-T84&list=RDV_22HZ7T_F...
Scriabin
www.youtube.com/watch?v=eHPFrCJP6c4&list=RDsOHg33Shwl...
Schubert-Liszt
www.youtube.com/watch?v=V_22HZ7T_FQ&list=RDV_22HZ7T_F...
*
In Conversation With: Toscha Seidel
"Studying with Professor Auer was a revelation. I had private lessons from him, and at the same time attended the classes at the Petrograd Conservatory. I should say that his great specialty, if one can use the word specialty in the case of so universal a master of teaching as the Professor, was bowing. In all violin playing the left hand, the finger hand, might be compared to a perfectly adjusted technical machine, one that needs to be kept well oiled to function properly. The right hand, the bow hand, is the direct opposite—it is the painter hand, the artist hand, its phrasing outlines the pictures of music; its nuances fill them with beauty of color. And while the Professor insisted as a matter of course on the absolute development of finger mechanics, he was an inspiration as regards the right manipulation of the bow, and its use as a medium of interpretation. And he made his pupils think. Often, when I played a passage in a concerto or sonata and it lacked clearness, he would ask me: 'Why is this passage not clear?' Sometimes I knew and sometimes I did not. But not until he was satisfied that I could not myself answer the question, would he show me how to answer it. He could make every least detail clear, illustrating it on his own violin; but if the pupil could 'work out his own salvation' he always encouraged him to do so.
"Most teachers make bowing a very complicated affair, adding to its difficulties. But Professor Auer develops a natural bowing, with an absolutely free wrist, in all his pupils; for he teaches each student along the line of his individual aptitudes. Hence the length of the fingers and the size of the hand make no difference, because in the case of each pupil they are treated as separate problems, capable of an individual solution. I have known of pupils who came to him with an absolutely stiff wrist; and yet he taught them to overcome it.
HOW TO STUDY
"Scale study—all Auer pupils had to practice scales every day, scales in all the intervals—is a most important thing. And following his idea of stimulating the pupil's self-development, the Professor encouraged us to find what we needed ourselves. I remember that once—we were standing in a corridor of the Conservatory—when I asked him, 'What should I practice in the way of studies?' he answered: 'Take the difficult passages from the great concertos. You cannot improve on them, for they are as good, if not better, as any studies written.' As regards technical work we were also encouraged to think out our own exercises. And this I still do. When I feel that my thirds and sixths need attention I practice scales and original figurations in these intervals. But genuine, resultful practice is something that should never be counted by 'hours.' Sometimes I do not touch my violin all day long; and one hour with head work is worth any number of days without it. At the most I never practice more than three hours a day. And when my thoughts are fixed on other things it would be time lost to try to practice seriously. Without technical control a violinist could not be a great artist; for he could not express himself. Yet a great artist can give even a technical study, say a Rode étude, a quality all its own in playing it. That technic, however, is a means, not an end, Professor Auer never allowed his pupils to forget. He is a wonderful master of interpretation. I studied the great concertos with him—Beethoven, Bruch, Mendelssohn, Tschaikovsky, Dvoøák, the Brahms concerto (which I prefer to any other); the Vieuxtemps Fifth and Lalo (both of which I have heard Ysaye, that supreme artist who possesses all that an artist should have, play in Berlin); the Elgar concerto (a fine work which I once heard Kreisler, an artist as great as he is modest, play wonderfully in Petrograd), as well as other concertos of the standard repertory. And Professor Auer always sought to have us play as individuals; and while he never allowed us to overstep the boundaries of the musically esthetic, he gave our individuality free play within its limits. He never insisted on a pupil accepting his own nuances of interpretation because they were his. I know that when playing for him, if I came to a passage which demanded an especially beautiful legato rendering, he would say: 'Now show how you can sing!' The exquisite legato he taught was all a matter of perfect bowing, and as he often said: 'There must be no such thing as strings or hair in the pupil's consciousness. One must not play violin, one must sing violin!'
My baby lives in shades of blue
Blue eyes and jazz and attitude
He lives in California too
He drives a Chevy Malibu
And when he calls
He calls for me, not for you
He lives for love, he loves his drugs
He loves his baby too
But I can't fix him, can't make him better
And I can't do nothing about his strange weather
But you are invincible
I can't break through your world
'Cause you live in shades of cool
Your heart is unbreakable
My baby lives in shades of cool
Blue heart and hands and aptitude
He lives for love, for women, too
I'm one of many, one is blue
And when he calls
He calls for me, not for you
He prays for love, he prays for peace
And maybe someone new
But I can't help him, can't make him better
And I can't do nothing about his strange weather
'Cause you are invincible
I can't break through your world
'Cause you live in shades of cool
Your heart is unbreakable
You are invincible
I can't break through your world
'Cause you live in shades of cool
Your heart is unbreakable
"My baby lives in shades of cool
Blue heart and hands and aptitude
He lives for love, for women, too
I'm one of many, one is blue"
Styling:
Head Nova by Lelutka
Skin Teresa by Mila
Hair Artemis by Doux
Grace Sweater [Granite] M-Lara by Giz Seorn
Grace High Waist Pants [Brown] M-Lara by Giz Seorn
Clutch Bag Upper Right by -MONCADA PARIS-
Auria Stiletto Suede by NX-Nardcotix
Blog Post:
meshedgal.wordpress.com/2020/05/25/one-is-blue
“Naviguer dans les airs entretient les fantasmes de notre enfance ; cela stimule notre aptitude à rêver.”
Joyce Carol Oates
Thank you very much for your comments and for your faves.
(Please do not use without my written permission.)
Taken on the road to the Nighthawk border crossing near Osoyoos, British Columbia, Canada.
Perhaps the plainest in appearance as far as sparrows are concerned, however this little fella atones for it with a considerable aptitude for song. Below is a link where you may hear him perform in a video I posted earlier this year.
www.flickr.com/photos/ebirdman/47960598561/in/photostream/
Brewer's Sparrow
Caption literal translation is 'having no fingers to play the piano', a common saying around here to someone who has no aptitude or skill to do a particular thing.
I can punch the keys but definitely can't play the piano, so pun intended :-)
(plain sooc, the jpeg over raw experiment still going on - has survived 2 months by now - dim natural light with custom white balance from a styrofoam homemade card).
Santiago, Chile.
savute plains, a leopard is trying to approach a kudu .
those big cats have a slow approach technique during which a minimal error makes the hunting fail.
a leopard must approach about 10/15 meters from the prey to have a good chance..it then makes a brief and an explosive charge(uo to 60kmh) ,pounching on its prey and dispatching it with bite to the neck.leopards do not have the aptitude to chase their quarry over any kind of distance.many of their preys are faster and can be caught only with an ambush.despite what we think,researchers believe that each individual leopard accounts for 20/40 kills a year.
of course if preys are small or stolen from hyenas and lions they have to hunt much more.
the leopard intraspecific natural enemies are baboons (one of the leopard favorite meal too) ,hyenas and wild dogs can steal them the preys.
but only the male lions can catch and kill easily an adult leopard.
the lion females are used to attack leopards but usually with the purpose to intimidate them.lion females are more tolerant towards other animals not considered as food.
the lion males instead have an instinct that brings them to kill all the possible competitors and they do it.
in savute there are notorius lion prides and leopards must stay always on alert.
anyway the leopard remain maybe the most beautiful african predator ,a deadly form of perfection.
"attack mode"
savute plains,botswana
original file here:
Excerpt from www-seminaire--sherbrooke-qc-ca.translate.goog/seminaire/...:
Founded in 1875 by Msgr. Antoine Racine, first bishop of Sherbrooke, the Séminaire de Sherbrooke is an educational establishment constituted as a corporation by chapter 189 of the Quebec statutes (1959, SQ).
The Seminary was declared of public interest (DIP) by the Quebec Ministry of Education in August 1969 for the collegiate order; in October 1969 for the secondary order.
The Séminaire de Sherbrooke's purpose is education, understood as a process aimed at ensuring the growth of the person. The achievement of this purpose assumes that everyone subscribes to its overall project, designed as a response to the needs, aptitudes and aspirations of the student, and which tends to the balanced development of all the components of his personality: physical, intellectual, emotional. , ethical, religious and social.
The Alaskan husky (distinct from the Siberian husky) is a breed of medium-sized working sled dog, developed specifically for its pulling ability. Alaskan huskies are the most commonly used type of dog for competitive sled dog racing, both in short-distance sprint racing as well as long-distance expedition races.
The Alaskan husky is not an officially recognized breed by any kennel club, nor does it have a formal breed standard.[6] Unlike breeds developed for the show ring, the Alaskan husky is instead a product of careful selection for desirable sled dog traits from various other breeds, such as aptitude for pulling, endurance, speed, intelligence, appetite, and tolerance of extreme weather.
This meet and greet was as near as we got to the sled trails as the conditions were too icy on our trip. Having seen the speed that these dogs pull I think we probably dodged a bullet!
For TMI’s October 2020 contest Nature in Black & White
and
Kreative People’s October 2020 Contest One Good Word
Own image processed with Topaz Studio 2
~~~ Thank you all for viewing, kind comments, favs and awards - much appreciated! ~~~
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Constantin_Br%C3%A2ncu%C8%99i
Constantin Brâncuși (Romanian: [konstanˈtin brɨŋˈkuʃʲ] (About this soundlisten); February 19, 1876 – March 16, 1957) was a Romanian sculptor, painter and photographer who made his career in France. Considered a pioneer of modernism, one of the most influential sculptors of the 20th-century, Brâncuși is called the patriarch of modern sculpture. As a child he displayed an aptitude for carving wooden farm tools. Formal studies took him first to Bucharest, then to Munich, then to the École des Beaux-Arts in Paris from 1905 to 1907. His art emphasizes clean geometrical lines that balance forms inherent in his materials with the symbolic allusions of representational art. Brâncuși sought inspiration in non-European cultures as a source of primitive exoticism, as did Paul Gauguin, Pablo Picasso, André Derain and others. However, other influences emerge from Romanian folk art traceable through Byzantine and Dionysian traditions.[1]
ro.wikipedia.org/wiki/Casa_memorial%C4%83_Constantin_Br%C...
I’ve been working to show that Levitation is not confined to birds only, for a while now. Yes, we have documented evidence that Levitation has made the jump to mammals down in Calgary where a hare displays this aptitude but I have not been able to show that up here. Well, finally I talked the squirrel into showing his technique. That took a bit of doing because the last shot of him, levitating a peanut, took him by surprise and he was cross with me for a long time. We finally straightened out these differences although it took a huge amount of peanuts to seal the deal. I would like to point out several things here. This squirrel is not a novice at this and I suggest you don’t try this at home without at least some sort of safety netting to cushion the inevitable impact on first tries. He casually leans into the maneuver and is completely relaxed. No intense concentration is visible in his expression. He is completely parallel to the ground and although his back feet still touch the peanut stand, there is no way that they would be responsible for supporting this position.
Relaxation, of course, can be accomplished in many different ways and does not need to be involved with Levitation. In my case, a good bottle of wine (or actually, any bottle of wine since I don’t pretend to be a connoisseur) and maybe some easy to listen piece of music (yes, foot stomping and hand clapping are requirements) such as ...
This liberty, currently remains quiescent as the present location does not allow for this volition to rise at it's fullest aptitude.
Benton Lake, Caddo Lake, Texas, USA
Another couple of shots taken whilst floating around in a kayak. Benton Lake was one of the limited areas that had a significant variation in colours within the cypress tree canopy. As I said in a previous posting, one of the locals said about 6-8 weeks before my visit some ‘bug’ had decimated the leaves on a lot of the trees. Whilst not meeting the level of a biblical plague of locusts I’d say it wasn’t too far off from a number of the areas I saw.
Shooting from a kayak is an interesting experience in that for someone of my aptitude I had a little control of my shooting position (certainly more than when on the motor boat but nothing like the degree I’m used to having. Note to self, should I manage to return to Caddo Lake take a full sized tripod as I gather over a fair bit of the lake the water is only about 3-4ft deep although 8-10ft is more the average. No guarantees though. I certainly have seen and saw some Togs using a tripod in the water when canoeing - I suspect it’s not as straight forward as it might seem!
As you can readily see, these two shots were taken from very similar positions with one pointing slightly to the right of the other. It’s another case where I have found it impossible to decide which I prefer, so decided to post both. No obligation to say which you prefer but equally I’d be very happy to know and the reason why.
Should anyone be interested my ‘mancave (aka my garden photography editing room) is now mostly kitted out and I’ve finally taken pity on my old PC that has soldiered on using a sub-spec graphics card and other aged internals (that only those under 30 or working in IT would know the names of!) and replaced it with something I trust will last me an equally long time. I’m not one of those that automatically thinks new = better but have to say having a PC that loads images without needing to step away to make a cuppa nor fear the desktop case is about to take off (due to the fans working so fast) is much more relaxing. I don’t know about others but why people want a PC that glows like a late 70s/early 80s disco ball is beyond me so needless to say I deleted that from the spec the salesman showed me.
© All rights reserved to Steve Pellatt. Please do not use this image on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit written permission.
Todos los derechos reservados - All rights reserved - copyright © Pilar Azaña Talán
Después de tantas fotos de maravillosa nieve, me apetece poner este lago en plena explosión de colores otoñales, con su calidez, luminosidad y calma total. Me gusta observar como el agua puede reproducir en este espejo inigualable toda la belleza que lo rodea. La madre naturaleza no deja de asombrarme por la impresionante capacidad para mantener su equilibrio, y es que en ella siempre se encuentra la solución y la clave para casi todo... pero el ser humano destruye...
---------------------------------
After so many photos of wonderful snow, I like to put this lake in full explosion of autumnal colors, with his warmth, luminosity and total calmness. I like to observe as the water it can reproduce in this incomparable mirror the whole beauty that surrounds it. The mother nature does not stop amazing me for the impressive aptitude to support his balance, and is that in her always one finds the solution and the key for almost quite... but the human being always destroys...
Most of Europe considers the black cat a symbol of bad luck, particularly if one walks across the path in front of a person, which is believed to be an omen of misfortune, Black Cat, however, shows you new ways of looking at the world and may even encourage Clairvoyant or other psychic aptitudes that boost intuition.
Soundtrack // Bande-son : SIOUXSIE & THE BANSHEES ("Dear Prudence"): www.youtube.com/watch?v=M6rrTROoZIw&list=RDM6rrTROoZI...
"Dear Prudence, open up your eyes... Dear Prudence, see the sunny skies... The wind is low, the birds will sing... That you are part of everything... Dear Prudence, won't you open up your eyes ? LOOK AROUND ROUND AROUND ROUND ROUND..."
"C"est beau comme une peinture de Seurat... presque du pointillisme !!!" // "It's as beautiful as a painting from Seurat. Sort of pointillism !!!" (Georges LISSILOUR / www.flickr.com/photos/geolis06/)
"Your skills at 'softening and romanticizing' the world are both inspirational and fascinating! - j'applaudis tes merveilleuses oeuvres." // "Tes aptitudes pour adoucir et romancer le monde sont aussi inspirantes que fascinantes !" (Robby MacGILLIVRAY / www.flickr.com/photos/137060962@N08/ )
"Nos caps si familiers mais toujours captivants, le traitement semble gommer les distances, la tonalité du ciel nous emmène ailleurs, reste l'espace, la beauté ineffable..." // "Our so familiar but still captivating capes... The treatment seems to erase the distances and the tone of the sly leads us somewhere else... Still remains the space, the ineffable beauty." (VINCENT / www.flickr.com/photos/58769600@N07/)
"Superbes couleurs harmonieuses pour mettre en valeur nos caps." // "Great harmonious colours to promote our capes." (FLORENCE.V / www.flickr.com/photos/flo59/)
"Terrific image - compliments !!" (PAROWAN496 / www.flickr.com/photos/parowan496/)
own texture.
Your attitude, not your aptitude, will determine your altitude.
Zig Ziglar
Eleven on the River is a 550 ft (170 m) tall skyscraper in Minneapolis, Minnesota, USA, located at 1111 W River Pkwy. Completed in 2022, Eleven has 42 floors and 120 units It is the 7th-tallest building in Minneapolis, and the tallest residential building in Minnesota.
It was designed by New York City architecture firm Robert A.M. Stern Architects alongside Ryan A+E, Inc. as the architect of record. Ryan Companies US, Inc. served as co-developer and builder.
Benton Lake, Caddo Lake, Texas, USA
Another couple of shots taken whilst floating around in a kayak. Benton Lake was one of the limited areas that had a significant variation in colours within the cypress tree canopy. As I said in a previous posting, one of the locals said about 6-8 weeks before my visit some ‘bug’ had decimated the leaves on a lot of the trees. Whilst not meeting the level of a biblical plague of locusts I’d say it wasn’t too far off from a number of the areas I saw.
Shooting from a kayak is an interesting experience in that for someone of my aptitude I had a little control of my shooting position (certainly more than when on the motor boat but nothing like the degree I’m used to having. Note to self, should I manage to return to Caddo Lake take a full sized tripod as I gather over a fair bit of the lake the water is only about 3-4ft deep although 8-10ft is more the average. No guarantees though. I certainly have seen and saw some Togs using a tripod in the water when canoeing - I suspect it’s not as straight forward as it might seem!
As you can readily see, these two shots were taken from very similar positions with one pointing slightly to the right of the other. It’s another case where I have found it impossible to decide which I prefer, so decided to post both. No obligation to say which you prefer but equally I’d be very happy to know and the reason why.
Should anyone be interested my ‘mancave (aka my garden photography editing room) is now mostly kitted out and I’ve finally taken pity on my old PC that has soldiered on using a sub-spec graphics card and other aged internals (that only those under 30 or working in IT would know the names of!) and replaced it with something I trust will last me an equally long time. I’m not one of those that automatically thinks new = better but have to say having a PC that loads images without needing to step away to make a cuppa nor fear the desktop case is about to take off (due to the fans working so fast) is much more relaxing. I don’t know about others but why people want a PC that glows like a late 70s/early 80s disco ball is beyond me so needless to say I deleted that from the spec the salesman showed me.
© All rights reserved to Steve Pellatt. Please do not use this image on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit written permission.
A power of Butterfly must be –
The Aptitude to fly
Meadows of Majesty concedes
And easy Sweeps of Sky –
Emily Dickinson
A group of lions taking rest in Masai Mara, Kenya
"No domestic animal can be as still as a wild animal.
The civilized people have lost the aptitude of stillness,
and must take lessons in silence from the wild
before they are accepted by it.“
(Karen Blixen)
Probably the last one from Crown Mines, Botallack, Cornwall, UK - certainly for a while.
I gather George Harrison came up with the seed of 'Here Comes the Sun' when he bunked off a meeting with Apple and went instead to see his mate Eric Clapton. Sitting in the garden he reflected that Apple was a bit like school with 'sign this, sign that' and he felt liberated in not having to go and see a load of "dopey accountants".
www.youtube.com/watch?v=TmBTYK7XZQk
Now despite me not having any musical aptitude (beyond knowing what I like to listen to) the general sentiment strikes a real cord with me. When you have had 20+ years of 'experts' telling you how they could repair roads a hell of a lot better than we do and how they are now driving on third world roads and why can't the road gullies cope with a monsoon ....well lets just say the idea of bunking off has a great attraction. So George, it may be 54 years later but I (and probably a vast number of people out there) can totally understand where you were coming from!
Slightly different composition taken nearer the 'Ledge of Doom' . I'd have liked to get separation between that rock the other side of the ledge and the bit where the coast joins the sea near the mines but there was a family settled in for the sunset just out of frame and I did not feel confident I could clone them out and too many of them to act as a 'scale'. I decided to just shoot what I could as by this time I could see the colours/light would be very nice and wasn't going to be too fussy.
This one is obviously taken a just before sunset when there was the light on the Crown Mines and the water. it's a set of 2 lots of 3 brackets - one for the foreground and one for the mines.
Some of you will know I've a workshop in Iceland coming up in October which is coming up quickly now. I need to get on and do some research and fine tuning as I feel obligated to try to shoot enough 'good' shots in my 5 days there to make Dom Haughton jealous. Between that prep. and my work I have to apologise again for being sporadic with comments on your photos and my postings/replies. I will try to do batches of comments but if I miss commenting on some of your photos please excuse me.
© All rights reserved Steve Pellatt. Please do not use this image on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit written permission.
Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Tonight however we are at Glynes, the grand Georgian family seat of the Chetwynds in Wiltshire, and the home of Lettice’s parents, the presiding Viscount and Countess of Wrexham, the heir, their eldest son Leslie, and his wife Arabella. Lettice, her fiancée, Sir John Nettleford-Hughes, and his recently widowed sister returned from France, Clemance Pontefract, are visiting the Chetwynd family for Christmas and have stayed on to celebrate New Year’s Eve with them as well before heading off in a few days’ time to Rippon Court, Sir John’s vast ancestral estate in Bedfordshire, where he, Clemance and Lettice all have business.
Old enough to be Lettice’s father, wealthy Sir John was until recently still a bachelor, and according to London society gossip intended to remain so, so that he might continue to enjoy his dalliances with a string of pretty chorus girls of Lettice’s age and younger. After an abrupt ending to her understanding with Selwyn Spencely, son and heir to the title Duke of Walmsford, Lettice in a moment of both weakness and resolve, agreed to the proposal of marriage proffered to her by Sir John. More like a business arrangement than a marriage proposal, Sir John offered Lettice the opportunity to enjoy the benefits of his large fortune, be chatelain of all his estates and continue to have her interior design business, under the conditions that she agree to provide him with an heir, and that he be allowed to discreetly carry on his affairs in spite of their marriage vows. He even suggested that Lettice might be afforded the opportunity to have her own extra marital liaisons if she were discreet about them.
Christmas has been and gone, and with it, Lettice’s elder sister Lalage (known to everyone in the family by the diminutive Lally), her husband Charles and their children and Lettice’s Aunt Eglantine, leaving the house emptier and significantly quieter, especially in the absence of the children. It is New Year’s Eve 1925, and nearly midnight as we find ourselves in the very grand and elegant drawing room of Glynes with its gilt Louis and Palladian style furnishings where Lettice has gathered with her fiancée and future sister-in-law, her father, mother, Leslie, Arabella and the parents of her oldest childhood chum, Gerald Bruton, Lord and Lady Bruton. An eight course New Year’s Eve dinner prepared by the Chetwynd’s cook, Mrs. Casterton, and the Glynes kitchen staff, has been consumed, and the party have repaired to the drawing room to enjoy champagne, wine and for the more daring, cocktails. The gilded chinoiserie rococo galleried table has been moved to in the midst of the sumptuous drawing room by Bramley, the Chetwynd’s beloved butler, and he has covered it in glasses and bottles of alcohol, ice and soda syphons for his master, mistress and guests. A bottle of champagne from the Glynes’ well stocked cellar which has been chilling in a silver coolers is almost empty as the New Year looms.
“Oh, I am sorry to hear you won’t be staying in the county for Twelfth Night* celebrations, Sir John.” Lady Gwenyth remarks sadly. “Such a pity! Mrs. Maingot’s Glynes Village Players are really rather excited about their Twelfth Night performance this year.”
“Even though I am a relative newcomer to the district, Lady Gwenyth, having only acquired Fonengil Park last century,” Sir John replies with his nose crumpling in distaste as he gesticulates with his highball glass of hock and seltzer in his right hand. “One thing I do know from my experience of the Glynes Village Players, is that the more excited they are about their performance, the ghastlier it is sure to be!” He pulls an overexaggerated face of mock horror. “I shall be only too glad to be far away from Mrs. Maingot and her amateur dramatics.”
“Oh,” Lady Gwenyth replies with both a sad and startled face in response to Sir John’s harsh remarks. “I rather enjoy their performances each year, Sir John.”
“Well, I’d hardly compare their amateur dramatics to the plays produced in London’s West End, Lady Gwenyth.” Sir John retorts smugly, before sipping from his glass.
“Yes… well,” Lady Gwyneth says with distain as she takes a sip of her own champagne, peering with repugnance over the top of her glass with beady eyes at Sir John in his smart Jermyn Street** tailored set of tails, white dinner vest and bow tie, a large Glynes hot house red rose in full bloom serving as a rather overly garish boutonnière*** in his lapel. “I’ll have to acquiesce to your greater experience in these matters, Sir John. I haven’t been to the capital since the Jersey Lily**** made her debut on the London stage in ‘She Stoops to Conquor’.
“Indeed.” Sir John murmurs as he looks Lady Gwenyth up and down critically, eyeing her elegant, if somewhat old fashioned Edwardian beaded evening gown in pastel pink crêpe de chiné.
“Still, it will be a pity too, that the Glynes villagers will not have the opportunity to wassail***** you and dear Lettice,” Lady Gwenyth goes on, either ignoring Sir John’s rudeness politely, or simply not noticing it. “Especially now that you two are officially engaged.”
“Oh,” Sir John heaves a rather heavy sigh and waves his hand about, as though shooing an irritating insect away. “There were a great many wassails and good wishes to us both from the villagers over the festive period since Lettice and I motored down from London to spend Christmas here at Glynes.”
“Oh that must be rather nice for you and dear Lettice, Sir John.” Lady Gwenyth remarks. “I still remember all the good wishes I received from the villagers when Algernon brought me to Bruton Hall all those years ago as a new bride. It was lovely, and endeared me to them.”
“Endeared you to them? Indeed Lady Gwenyth?”
“Yes. It really was wonderful. As part of local gentry, you really should spend more time down in the village when you are at Fontengil Park, Sir John. You spend far too much time in London.”
“Ahh, but that is where my business requires me, Lady Gwenyth, not enfolded in the soporific bucolic bosom of the Wiltshire countryside.”
“Thinking of the countryside,” Lady Gwenyth remarks, coughing a little awkwardly at Sir John’s lightly veiled implication that she, her family the families of the other landed gentry live sleepy and dull lives. “I was a little surprised that you’re not spending New Year’s Eve with my son at Miss Fordyce’s country retreat. It sounds far more smart and select for an exciting man about London like yourself, than our dull, bucolic parties.” Lady Gwenyth cannot help herself as she adds an acerbic taint to her comment. “Gerald was rather thrilled by Miss Fordyce’s invitation to her private party in Essex, especially after the last one, which he said was frightfully enjoyable. You were there too, as well as Lettice, I believe, Sir John.”
“I was. My sister Clemance and I are very good friends of Sylvia’s.”
“Yes, Lettice told me that. She led me to believe that Mrs. Pontefract and Miss Fordyce went to finishing school together, or something like that.”
“We were hosted by the same German family, Lady Gwenyth,” Clemance utters clearly, correcting the Chetwynd’s neighbour politely as she steps up to join the conversation. “So, I’ve known Sylvia since we were fifteen years old.
“Clemmie, Lettice and I all received invitations from Sylvia for tonight’s bash, as it happens, Lady Gwenyth,” Sir John explains. “However, since we will be leaving in a day or two to go to Bedfordshire, and knowing Lettice enjoys the tradition of spending time with her family during Christmas, we erred on the side of coming down here to Glynes, rather than going to Sylvia’s.”
“I think I’m enjoying this party far more than I would have Sylvia’s anyway, Lady Gwenyth.” Clemance remarks. “Sylvia has always surrounded herself with all these rather passionate and loud performers and artists. There are bound to be high spirits and hijinks this evening – a spirited scavenger hunt about Belchamp St Paul****** no doubt.”
“Oh indeed.” chuckles Lady Gwenyth.
“No. This is a much more agreeable. I must also say that it was very good of Cosmo and Sadie to put Nettie and I up for Christmas and New Year.” Clemance adds gratefully.
“Yes. It saved me the fuss and bother of having to open up Fontengil Park just for a few days.” Sir John adds.
“Oh,” Lady Gwenyth responds, shuddering as she ignores Sir John’s rather tactless remark and focusses upon Clemance instead. “Cosmo and Sadie are always such gracious hosts at any time of the year, Mrs. Pontefract, especially at Christmas time. I’m sure they were only too delighted to welcome you, Mrs. Pontefract.” She allows herself to give Sir John a momentary hard stare. “However, I was just remarking to Sir John that it is a pity you have to leave before the Twelfth Night festivities.”
“Oh I know. It is a great pity. However, a Royal command is not one my brother can readily ignore, Lady Gwenyth,” Clemance answers. “Or refuse. And since the Prince of Wales has specifically expressed his wish to meet Lettice again as John’s fiancée, I am going simply as chaperone.”
“I am surprised that His Royal Highness would want to leave Sandringham*******,” Lady Gwenyth opines. “I would have thought he would have stayed on the Sandringham Estate with Their Majesties for the duration of the festive season.”
“Somehow, I think Rippon Court offers more entertaining pursuits for His Royal Highness than watching his father play with his postage stamp collection******** or his mother fuss over her Fabergé eggs*********.” Sir John says in a superior fashion.
“Our father was a fine rider, a mad keen steeplechaser********** and a bloodthirsty hunter.” Clemance explains with a shudder. “Mother was too. Between them, they established the Rippon Hunt.”
“Being a keen steeplechaser and foxhunter himself, His Royal Highness has expressed his wish to ride in the Rippon Hunt***********, so however reluctantly, I am taking up my official duties as host of the hunt.”
“Not Master of the Hounds************, Sir John?” Lady Gwyneth queries politely.
“Our parents were the Nettleford-Hughes with hunting in their veins, Lady Gwenyth.” Clemance explains kindly. “They couldn’t understand why Nettie didn’t enjoy, nor have the aptitude for, the outdoor sports they embraced with such gusto.”
“We’re a little more cerebral in our pursuits, rather than Neanderthal*************” Sir John adds. “No, I’m far better placed to entertain His Royal Highness and his coterie after their hunting pursuits in the comfort of Rippon Court, and Lettice as my intended will be offering the winners’ trophies.”
Across the room by the white marble fireplace in which a fire roars, keeping the cold of the Wiltshire winter at bay, the Viscount, Lady Sadie and their eldest son and heir chat together, with Lady Sadie in her usual seat in a gilt Louis Seize armchair, her husband on the high backed gilt salon chair embroidered with delicate petit-point by his mother, and their son standing next to his father, warming his backside as he faces out to the room. Across from Lady Sadie in a matching armchair, Lord Bruton snores deeply.
“Looks like Lord Bruton’s had a bit too much of your firewater**************, Pappa.” Leslie opines, nodding at their neighbour slumped in his seat with his head lolling to his left heavily, his mouth hanging slightly open. “I’d best go wake him.”
Lady Sadie glances up at the dainty ornamental rococo clock on the mantelpiece. “No, no, Leslie.” she fusses. “Let poor Algernon sleep. It’s only a quarter to midnight. Your father or Gwenyth can wake him just before midnight, not that I think he’s care too much if he missed the start to 1926, judging by how tired he looked tonight.”
“Too many unpaid bills keeping him awake at night I’d say.” Leslie remarks.
“Still?” Lady Sadie asks. “I thought all that was behind them now with that last sale of pockets of land to that London man.”
“I think it will take more than that to solve the Bruton’s cash flow problems.” Leslie remarks. “Wouldn’t you agree, Pappa?”
The Viscount doesn’t reply.
“Father?” he asks again.
“Cosmo?” Sadie asks her husband, as she gently reaches out and places a bejewelled hand upon her husband’s left knee.
“Eh? What?” the Viscount blusters.
“You’re miles away, Cosmo.” Lady Sadie says with disappointment, shrinking back into her seat and picking up her nearly empty champagne flute. “You aren’t listening to Leslie or I at all, are you?” She pouts petulantly as she lifts the glass to her lips. “You could at last pretend to be listening to me.”
“Just listen to him, that superior sounding old lecher.” the Viscount seethes, seemingly unaware of his wife’s statement as he nods towards Sir John who stands in his cluster with Lady Gwyneth and Clemance near Lady Sadie’s Eighteenth Century painted drawers, his back turned to the Viscount.
“Cosmo!” Lady Sadie hisses. “Quiet! He’ll hear you.” She looks aghast at her husband. “Like him or not, he’s our guest.”
“He won’t hear me,” mutters the Viscount in a comfortably assured reply. “Not over the sound of his own deafening pomposity.”
Leslie and Lady Sadie exchange knowing glances over the top of the Viscount, Lady Sadie cocking an eyebrow and Leslie rolling his eyes, both silently acknowledging that the Viscount is the pot calling the kettle black***************.
“Oh, His Royal Highness is a fine hunter and steeplechaser,” the Viscount mimics Sir John’s statement in a mewling voice. “As if we didn’t all know it’s more about like being drawn to like, with our wastrel future King seeking a sympathetic audience and place to sleep with his mistress, that damnable trollop Freda Dudley Ward****************, rather than doing his duty and staying at Sandringham with his family.”
“Ahh, the worst kept secret in England*****************.” Leslie ventures.
“The poor King and Queen.” Lady Sadie opines with a sigh. “I pity them.”
“I pity us!” the Viscount retorts. “Having to tolerate that damn philanderer under our roof, as long as Lettice insists on being churlish and keeping up the pretence that this ill-fated marriage will be anything other than a disaster, the magnitude of which we have never seen the likes of in the Chetwynd family before.”
“Pappa!” Leslie exclaims, looking over to Lettice, who luckily for the Viscount, is involved in an animated conversation with Leslie’s wife Arabella on the sofa nearby.
“Stop being so melodramatic, Cosmo,” Lady Sadie chides. “It doesn’t become you, as head of the household. And I say again, keep your voice down, for goodness’ sake. Sir John may be completely hedonistic and self-absorbed, but our youngest child is not.”
“I’ve a mind to go over there, punch the cad in his snooty nose, and fling him out of the house by the ear.”
“Oh no you won’t, Cosmo.” Lady Sadie disagrees calmly and matter-of-factly, slapping him on his knee this time. “It would be the wrong thing to do, and even in the pique of a fit of rage, you know it. It would be too, too embarrassing to conduct such a scene before a houseful of guests, even if most of them present are family: for Sir John, Leslie, Arabella, me, you,” She lowers her voice and adds sadly. “For your favourite, Lettice.”
“It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to.” the Viscount mumbles under his breath between gritted teeth.
“You aren’t alone in that, Pappa. We’d all like to.” Leslie says, looking down to his father. “But he is Lettice’s fiancée, and it is New Year’s Eve after all.”
“What the devil has that to do with anything, Leslie?” the Viscount barks.
“Well, you know, Pappa, the season of peace, good will to all men and that all that.” Leslie elucidates with animated gesticulations directed towards the Christmas tree, its golden glass baubles, ribbons and tinsel****************** sparkling and glowing in the drawing room light.
“Good will to all men be damned!” the Viscount retorts in a fiery fashion.
“Language, Cosmo.” Lady Sadie scolds her husband.
“I fail to understand how a man as odious, hedonistic and self-obsessed as Sir John, can have such a lovely and selfless sister like Clemance.” Leslie remarks. “She is kind, considerate, generous of her time, and utterly charming.”
“Perhaps she is compensating for her brother’s character flaws,” Lady Sadie suggests. “I determined that I was going to despise her when I met her up in London, but try as I might, I can’t help but like her.”
“Why can’t Lettice see what a vile old lecher Sir John is?” the Viscount ponders in exasperated disbelief. “I mean, she’s not dim, is she? She’s got the brains and the nous to establish her own very successful business, in spite of everyone, including us, suggesting it was folly, and that she’d fail. How can she be so blind? Has she lost the use of her eyes, or worse yet, her senses?”
“I don’t think Lettice has lost either, my dear Cosmo,” Lady Sadie soothes purringly. “And furthermore,” she adds with a satisfied smile. “I do believe the sheen is starting to rub off this quixotic******************* engagement to Sir John.”
Both the Viscount and Leslie turn and look at Lady Sadie, her son smiling knowingly, and her husband gazing at her in disbelief.
“Alright Sadie.” the older man says. “You have my full and uninterrupted attention.” He heaves a sigh. “Go on. What do you know that I don’t?”
“I told you the day she announced her engagement to Sir John to us almost twelve months ago, that we were going to have to play the long game with Lettice.” Lady Sadie explains.
“You did.” the Viscount buts in. “And we have. What of it?”
“Well, it’s finally starting to pay dividends without our intervention in the matter, thus preventing Lettice from being driven further into Sir John’s arms because of our perceived interference and bias against the match. I can see by your response, Leslie darling, that being the perceptive young man you are, like me, you too have noticed a change come over Lettice and her attitudes to Sir John.”
“I have Mamma.” Leslie admits. “A definite cooling”
“What the devil do you mean, Sadie?” the Viscount splutters in exasperation. “What’s all this about Lettice’s attitudes towards that ghastly old lecher? Stop being so damn cryptic, woman!”
“I’m not quite sure when exactly, but it seems that at least since her return from that decorative arts exhibition in Paris, Lettice has taken a cooler attitude towards her fiancée, Cosmo. When they arrived to stay, I asked Lettice whether she and Sir John have settled on a date for the wedding yet, and she fobbed me off with some fanciful story that they haven’t had time to settle on one yet. It’s all nonsense of course.” Lady Sadie scoffs. “A happily engaged couple would have settled on one by now, no matter how busy they were. You mark my words.” She holds up a wagging bejewelled finger. “She’s stalling, and I am quite sure she is reconsidering her engagement. Furthermore,” she adds. “If you think about how she was when their engagement first became public, Lettice hung off Sir John, and his every word. Not a cross word was had between them.” Lady Sadie nods, steeling her jaw as she speaks. “Yet now look at her. She’s sitting with Arabella.”
“Tice hasn’t stood next to him all this evening.” Leslie adds. “Haven’t you noticed, Pappa?”
The Viscount sits up more straightly in his seat as he glances between Sir John and Lettice, who sits on the sofa with Arabella, her back clearly turned to her fiancée. “No,” he says, a brightness lightening his gruff tones, his glower lifting a little. “I can’t say I have.”
“And she’s given him critical, or even openly hostile glances when he’s said things she doesn’t like or agree with since they both motored down from London to stay.” Lady Sadie adds. “It’s not the look a happily engaged woman gives her fiancée, Cosmo.”
“Bella even told me last night before bed that Tice confided in her the other day that she and Sir John had the fiercest argument up in London over the Prince of Wales’ visit and their need to leave here just after New Year. Apparently, she told Sir John he could jolly well go on his own, Royal Highness or not, as she was staying here until after Twelfth Night like usual. It was only because of Clemance’s imploring that she recanted and agreed to go with them to Rippon Court the day after tomorrow.”
“Really?” Sir John asks, whilst Lady Sadie gasps and smiles at their son’s revelation.
“According to Bella, and she’s less of a Sir John despiser than we are, so I can’t imagine her fabricating or gilding such a tale.”
Just at that moment, Arabella scuttles past her husband and in-laws, vacating her seat as she goes to the side of the fireplace and rings the servants’ call bell by turning the metal and porcelain handle discreetly built in under the mantle. “We must call for Bramley!” she exclaims excitedly. “We need fresh champagne. It’s nearly midnight!”
Seeing an ample opportunity to talk to Lettice, Leslie leaves his parents’ side and moves over to talk to her.
“To your health, little sister.” Leslie says, slipping down onto the seat vacated by his wife on the Louis Quinze sofa, raising his champagne flute to Lettice’s.
“To your health, dear Leslie.” Lettice parrots, raising her own glass so that it clinks merrily against his.
Leslie settles back against the soft embroidered gold satin upholstery back of the sofa and appraises Lettice as she sits opposite him, arrayed in a simple sleeveless tube frock of madder coloured satin with a drop waist and an asymmetrical hemline designed for her by Gerald. The colours warms her pale complexion and accentuates the golden tones of her marcelled waves******************** Her elbow length white kid evening gloves make for a nice contrast to the bright colour of the frock’s fabric. A diamond bracelet, a gift from Sir John to Lettice, winks and sparkles expensively under the illumination of the Glynes electrified drawing room chandeliers above.
“What?” Lettice asks her brother.
Leslie doesn’t answer straight away, which causes Lettice to blush and glance down to see if she has inadvertently spilt something from New Year’s Eve 1925’s dinner onto her gown, where it has remained unnoticed by her.
“What is it, Leslie?”
“You’re up to something.” he replies matter-of-factly after a moment of deliberation.
Lettice laughs in startled surprise at Leslie’s effrontery. “No I’m not, Leslie!”
“Yes you are, Tice.” Leslie retorts before taking a sip of gin and tonic. “Do you remember when you were six and I was sixteen, and I caught you coming out of the barn on the home farm********************* with that pail********************** of molasses for the cows***********************, which you intended to pour into Lionel’s bed?”
“He deserved a taste of his own medicine, after he deliberately poured water on my mattress, making it look like I’d wet the bed.” Lettice defends herself. Nanny Tess was fit to be tied, and I received such a dressing down and a punishment of no nursery tea for a week.” She scoffs and rolls her blue eyes. “You stopped me doing it.”
“I wouldn’t have stopped you, if you hadn’t been so Janus-faced************************ when I asked you whether you were going to try and reciprocate punishment on Lionel, and you said you wouldn’t. I immediately suspected foul play, so I followed you, and as it turns out, I was right.”
“You stalked me, Leslie.” Lettice takes a sip of her own champagne, the bracelet of gemstones sliding down her raised forearm until it comes to a gentle halt where its circumference and that of her arm match.
“I saved you from your own impetuousness, Tice.”
“Says you.” Lettice laughs. “We’ll never know now. I was so guilty being caught red handed as it were by my own big brother, whom I worshipped and adored, that I did as you told me and suffered my punishment in silence without retribution upon Lionel.”
“He would have done something even worse to you, Tice. You know he would.”
“Perhaps.”
“Lionel’s depths of depravity and evil were evident long before he was seven, Tice my dear.”
“True.” Lettice admits begrudgingly.
“Anyway, you are being Janus-faced now. Mamma noticed it, and so did I.” Leslie remarks. “So, what is going on between you and sleazy old Sir John? You’re saying all the right things, but Mamma and I both sense a shift in you, ever since you came home from Paris.” Leslie looks his sister directly in the eyes. “Is the sheen of your ill-considered engagement to Sir John finally wearing off?”
Lettice laughs again at Leslie’s impudence. “Why don’t you say what you really think, Leslie darling.”
“Is it?” Leslie persists.
“I’m not six any more, Leslie. I don’t need rescuing.” Lettice assures her sibling, reaching out her empty glove clad left hand and patting him on the knee consolingly. “I’m twenty-five, and I can manage this situation myself, and I am, in my own way.”
The concern painted on Leslie’s handsome face give away his misgivings. “I just hope, whatever you are up to, you’re doing the right thing.”
“I appreciate you wanting to come to my aid, Leslie darling, but I don’t need my knight in shining brotherly armour this time.”
Leslie sighs in tired exasperation. “You always were the most independent of all the Chetwynd children, forging your own destiny: not like Lally, who married well as Mamma intended, or me who as the heir apparent has grown up with his future mapped out for him.”
“Lionel, for all his faults, is independent too.” Lettice suggests.
“Yes, but stupid too with all his hedonistic actions to end up having his fate chosen for him against his will, shrouded in scandal, by being banished to British East Africa************************* by Pappa.”
“Please trust me on this, Leslie darling. I know what I’m doing this time.” Lettice promises Leslie. “Whether the outcomes are good, bad or a mixture of both. I’m prepared. I’ll be fine.”
“What are you two talking about over there?” the Viscount calls over to Lettice and Leslie from the drinks table, holding aloft one of two chilled bottles of champagne supplied by Bramley. “Come! It’s almost midnight. Time to toast to 1926.”
“Yes, Pappa.” the siblings say, arising from the sofa and walking over to the table where they join all the other guests and their hosts.
The Viscount hands them both fresh glasses of cool, sparkling French champagne.
The clock on the mantle chimes midnight prettily, in the distance the Glynes Church of England bell rings out across the quiet night and the muffled sound of cheers drift up from the servant’s quarters.
“Happy New Year!” Viscount Wrexham cheers. “Happy nineteen twenty-six!”
“Happy nineteen twenty-six!” everyone echoes as they raise their glasses and clink them together happily.
*Dating back to the fourth century, many Christians have observed the Twelfth Night — the evening before the Epiphany — as the ideal time to take down the Christmas tree and festive decorations. Traditionally, the Twelfth Night marks the end of the Christmas season, but there's reportedly some debate among Christian groups about which date is correct. By custom, the Twelfth Night falls on either January 5 or January 6, depending on whether you count Christmas Day as the first day. The Epiphany, also known as Three Kings' Day, commemorates the visit of the three wise men to baby Jesus in Bethlehem.
**Jermyn Street is a one-way street in the St James's area of the City of Westminster in London. It is to the south of, parallel, and adjacent to Piccadilly. Jermyn Street is known as a street for high end gentlemen's clothing retailers and bespoke tailors in the West End.
***A boutonnière or buttonhole is a floral decoration, typically a single flower or bud, worn on the lapel of a tuxedo or suit jacket. While worn frequently in the past, boutonnières are now usually reserved for special occasions for which formal wear is standard, such as at proms and weddings.
****Emilie Charlotte, Lady de Bathe, known as Lillie Langtry and nicknamed "The Jersey Lily", was a British socialite, stage actress and producer. Born and raised on the island of Jersey, she moved to London in 1876, two years after marrying. Her looks and personality attracted interest, commentary, and invitations from artists and society hostesses, and she was celebrated as a young woman of great beauty and charm. During the aesthetic movement in England, she was painted by aesthete artists. In 1882, she became the poster-girl for Pears soap, and thus the first celebrity to endorse a commercial product. In 1881, Langtry became an actress and made her West End debut in the comedy She Stoops to Conquer, causing a sensation in London by becoming the first socialite to appear on stage. One of the most glamorous British women of her era, Langtry was the subject of widespread public and media interest. Her acquaintances in London included Oscar Wilde, who encouraged Langtry to pursue acting. She was known for her relationships with royal figures and noblemen, including Albert Edward, Prince of Wales (the future King Edward VII), Lord Shrewsbury, and Prince Louis of Battenberg.
*****Wassail refers to a hot, mulled holiday punch, traditionally made with spiced cider or ale, and also to a winter solstice custom of visiting orchards to bless the trees for a good harvest. The word "wassail" comes from an Old Norse phrase meaning "be in good health" and is a salute to good health.
******Belchamp St Paul is a village and civil parish in the Braintree district of Essex, England. The village is five miles west of Sudbury, Suffolk, and 23 miles northeast of the county town, Chelmsford.
*******The Prince of Wales, later Edward VIII and Duke of Windsor, celebrated Christmas 1925 at Sandringham House in Norfolk, which was, and remains, the traditional Royal Family location for the festive season. His father, King George V, was the reigning monarch at the time, and the family gathered at their country estate for the festivities.
********King George V was a very enthusiastic and obsessive stamp collector who amassed a world-class collection. He began collecting stamps as the Duke of York in the late 1800s and continued obsessively throughout his life. He was so passionate about it that he declared, "I wish to have the best collection and not one of the best collections in England". He made high-value purchases to build his collection, including setting a world record at the time by paying £1,450.00 for a Mauritius two pence blue stamp in 1904. He famously acknowledged that he was the "damned fool" who paid such a high price. He had his collection housed in 328 albums, and it was focused on British Empire stamps. His private collection formed the foundation of the Royal Philatelic Collection, which is now considered one of the most valuable stamp collections in the world.
*********Queen Mary collected a wide variety of objects, including Eighteenth Century furniture, lacquerware, gold boxes, and jewellery. She also collected miniatures, enamelwork, and Fabergé eggs, and was particularly interested in restoring and acquiring pieces that had previously been part of the Royal Collection. Her collection was eclectic and also featured items like the famous Queen Mary's Dolls' House and a significant number of photo albums documenting her life and travels.
**********A steeplechase is a long-distance race involving both galloping and jumping over obstacles, primarily fences and water jumps. In horse racing, steeplechases involve horses jumping over various obstacles like fences and ditches.
***********During the 1920s the Prince of Wales, later Edward VIII and Duke of Windsor, was ranked among the most daring horsemen in England. Having forged an impressive reputation in the hunting field for courage, determination and skill, he moved on to steeplechasing furthering the indignation of George V and Queen Mary who urged their son to abandon the dangerous sport. Unheeded Edward broke his collar bone, blacked his eyes and suffered concussion with what seemed to be alarming regularity. The Prince’s addiction to his hazardous hobby even caused the Prime Minister Ramsay Macdonald to request discontinuance. The prince stubbornly refused. Only after the near fatal illness of the King in 1928, did the he finally renounce the sport and order the sale of his entire stud.
************The Master of the Hounds was in charge of the hunt and supervised the field, hounds, and staff. The huntsman, who had bred the hounds and worked with them, would be in charge of the pack during the hunt. Once the group was assembled, the huntsman would lead the pack of hounds and field to where a fox might be hiding.
*************The term "Neanderthal" was first used in 1864 when Irish geologist William King proposed the species name Homo neanderthalensis for the fossils found in Germany's Neander Valley. However, the first known use of "Neanderthal" to describe the fossil itself dates to 1874 in the Merriam-Webster Dictionary.
**************Referring to a strong alcoholic drink like whisky or gin, the origins of the use of the word “firewater” came from two sources: one started with the adulteration of alcohol with tobacco juice, hot peppers or opium, and the other began with the custom of testing the proof of alcohol by throwing it in the fire, if flammable alcohol would be acceptable for purchase.
***************Referring to hypocrisy, highlighting a situation where someone criticises another person for a fault that they themselves share, the idiom originated in the early 1600s from the Spanish novel “Don Quixote”, which was translated into English by Thomas Shelton in 1620.
****************Winifred May Mones, Marquesa de Casa Maury, commonly known by her first married name as Freda Dudley Ward, was an English socialite. She was best known for being a married paramour of Edward, Prince of Wales, who later became Edward VIII. She was twice married and divorced. Her first marriage was on 9 July 1913 to William Dudley Ward, the Liberal MP for Southampton. Her first husband's family surname was Ward, but 'Dudley Ward' became their surname through common usage. They divorced on the ground of adultery in 1931 and were the parents of two daughters. Although married in 1913 to William Dudley Ward, Freda was also in a relationship with Edward, Prince of Wales from 1918, until she was supplanted by American Thelma Furness from 1929 to 1934 before he then took up with Wallis Simpson, whom he eventually married and abdicated for.
*****************Freda Dudley Ward was the Prince of Wales's paramour for many years, with their affair beginning in the early 1920s. Their relationship was not a secret; it was openly acknowledged by their social circles, families, and the public. His parents the King George V and Queen Mary were concerned about the Prince of Wales's affair with Freda Dudley Ward, as it was a public relationship that threatened to cause scandal and damage his reputation, especially given the expectation that he would marry a foreign royal. They disapproved of the affair, viewing it as a public scandal and hoping the situation could be managed and kept out of the papers to protect the monarchy and the future king. It was a source of considerable tension between father and son. The constant disapproval from his father contributed to Edward's already existing resentment and hatred for his royal role and the constraints it placed upon him.
******************One of the most famous Christmas decorations that people love to use at Christmas is tinsel. You might think that using it is an old tradition and that people in Britain have been adorning their houses with tinsel for a very long time. However that is not actually true. Tinsel is in fact believed to be quite a modern tradition. Whilst the idea of tinsel dates back to Germany in 1610 when wealthy people used real strands of silver to adorn their Christmas trees (also a German invention). Silver was very expensive though, so being able to do this was a sign that you were wealthy. Even though silver looked beautiful and sparkly to begin with, it tarnished quite quickly, meaning it would lose its lovely, bright appearance. Therefore it was swapped for other materials like copper and tin. These metals were also cheaper, so it meant that more people could use them. However, when the Great War started in 1914, metals like copper were needed for the war. Because of this, they couldn't be used for Christmas decorations as much, so a substitute was needed. It was swapped for aluminium, but this was a fire hazard, so it was switched for lead, but that turned out to be poisonous.
*******************Taken from the name of the hero in Miguel de Cervantes 1605 novel, “Don Quixote”, to be quixotic means to be extremely idealistic, unrealistic and impractical, typically marked by rash and lofty romanticism.
********************Marcelling is a hair styling technique in which hot curling tongs are used to induce a curl into the hair. Its appearance was similar to that of a finger wave but it is created using a different method. Marcelled hair was a popular style for women's hair in the 1920s, often in conjunction with a bob cut. For those women who had longer hair, it was common to tie the hair at the nape of the neck and pin it above the ear with a stylish hair pin or flower. One famous wearer was American entertainer, Josephine Baker.
*********************A "home farm" is typically a farm that is part of a large country estate and provides food for the main house. In a British context, it was historically the land farmed directly by the landowner or an employed manager, often while the rest of the estate was rented out to tenant farmers.
**********************Although often assumed to be American, the word “pail” is actually an English word that originated in the Middle English period (1150 – 1500) and is used in both American and British English, though it is considered more common in American English today, where it is often synonymous with "bucket". While "bucket" is the more dominant term in British English, "pail" is still understood and can be considered a more old-fashioned or regional variant.
***********************In farming, molasses provides an energy-rich supplement for livestock, helps them to better digest fibre in their feed.
************************Arising in the late Seventeenth Century, referring to the Roman deity of beginnings and endings often depicted with two faces, “Janus-faced” refers to deliberate deceptiveness especially by pretending one set of feelings and acting under the influence of another.
*************************The Colony and Protectorate of Kenya, commonly known as British Kenya or British East Africa, was part of the British Empire in Africa. It was established when the former East Africa Protectorate was transformed into a British Crown colony in 1920. Technically, the "Colony of Kenya" referred to the interior lands, while a 16 km (10 mi) coastal strip, nominally on lease from the Sultan of Zanzibar, was the "Protectorate of Kenya", but the two were controlled as a single administrative unit. The colony came to an end in 1963 when an ethnic Kenyan majority government was elected for the first time and eventually declared independence as the Republic of Kenya.
This festive upper-class scene is not all that it may appear to be, for it is made up entirely of pieces from my 1:12 miniatures collection.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The champagne glasses are 1:12 artisan miniatures. Made of glass, they have been blown individually by hand by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering and are so fragile and delicate that even I with my dainty fingers have broken the stem of one. They stand on an ornate Eighteenth Century style silver tray made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. The wine cooler is also made by Warwick Miniatures. The Deutz and Geldermann champagne bottle is also an artisan miniature and made of glass with a miniature copy of a real Deutz and Geldermann label and some real foil wrapped around their necks. It was made by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire. The clear glass soda syphon and porcelain ice bucket and tongs was made by M.W. Reutter Porzellanfabrik in Germany, who specialise in making high quality porcelain miniatures. The cranberry glass soda syphon was made by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures. The remaini g bottles of alcohol were made by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures. The gilt tea table in the foreground of the photo on which they all stand is made by the high-end miniature furniture maker, Bespaq.
The Chetwynd Christmas tree, beautifully decorated by Lettice, Harold and Arabella with garlands, tinsel, bows golden baubles and topped by a sparking gold star is a 1:12 artisan piece. It was hand made by husband and wife artistic team Margie and Mike Balough who own Serendipity Miniatures in Newcomerstown, Ohio.
The Palladian console table behind the Christmas tree, with its two golden caryatids and marble top, is one of a pair that were commissioned by me from American miniature artisan Peter Cluff. Peter specialises in making authentic and very realistic high quality 1:12 miniatures that reflect his interest in Georgian interior design. His work is highly sought after by miniature collectors worldwide. This pair of tables are one-of-a-kind and very special to me.
The gilt chair to the right of the photo is made by the high-end miniature furniture maker, Bespaq, but what is particularly special about it is that it has been covered in antique Austrian floral micro petite point by V.H. Miniatures in the United Kingdom, which also makes this a one-of-a-kind piece. The artisan who made this says that as one of her hobbies, she enjoys visiting old National Trust Houses in the hope of getting some inspiration to help her create new and exciting miniatures. She saw some beautiful petit point chairs a few years ago in one of the big houses in Derbyshire and then found exquisitely detailed petit point that was fine enough for 1:12 scale projects.
The elegant ornaments that decorate the surfaces of the Chetwynd’s palatial drawing room very much reflect the Eighteenth Century spirit of the room.
On the console table made by Peter Cluff stands a porcelain pot of yellow and lilac petunias which has been hand made and painted by 1:12 miniature ceramicist Ann Dalton. It is flanked by two mid Victorian (circa 1850) hand painted child’s tea set pieces. The sugar bowl and milk jug have been painted to imitate Sèvres porcelain.
On the bombe chest behind the Louis settee stand a selection of 1950s Limoges miniature tea set pieces which I have had since I was a teenager. Each piece is individually stamped on its base with a green Limoges stamp. In the centre of these pieces stands a sterling silver three prong candelabra made by an unknown artisan. They have actually fashioned a putti (cherub) holding the stem of the candelabra. The candles that came with it are also 1:12 artisan pieces and are actually made of wax.
The sofa, which is part of a three piece Louis XV suite of the settee and two armchairs was made by the high-end miniature furniture maker, JBM.
The Hepplewhite chair with the lemon satin upholstery you can just see behind the Christmas tree was made by the high-end miniature furniture maker, Bespaq.
All the paintings around the Glynes drawing room in their gilded frames are 1:12 artisan pieces made by Amber’s Miniatures in the United States and V.H. Miniatures in the United Kingdom, and the wallpaper is an authentic copy of hand-painted Georgian wallpaper of Chinese lanterns from the 1770s.
The Aptitude to fly
Meadows of Majesty concedes
And easy Sweeps of Sky -”
― Emily Dickinson
www.youtube.com/watch?v=AeUPNmbKwQ4
Blog Post
Taken on the road to the Nighthawk border crossing near Osoyoos, British Columbia, Canada.
Perhaps the plainest in appearance as far as sparrows are concerned, however this little fella atones for it with a considerable aptitude for song.
Brewer's Sparrow
IMGP4455_1
Bueno, esta fue la primera vez que me atreví a fotografiar el cielo de noche. Al final, dadas las condiciones lumínicas y mis pobres aptitudes, no ha quedado un mal resultado. Prometo mejorar.
Well, this was the first time I ventured to take a photograph of the sky at night. And finally, given the light conditions and my poor skills, it has not been a bad result. I promise to improve.
Baruch de Spinoza lived here.
Baruch de Spinoza (Hebrew: ברוך שפינוזה, Portuguese: Bento de Espinosa, Basque: Benedict de Spinoza, Latin: Benedictus de Spinoza) (November 24, 1632 – February 21, 1677) was a Dutch philosopher of Portuguese Jewish origin. Revealing considerable scientific aptitude, the breadth and importance of Spinoza's work was not fully realized until years after his death. Today, he is considered one of the great rationalists of 17th century philosophy, laying the groundwork for the 18th century Enlightenment and modern biblical criticism. By virtue of his magnum opus, the posthumous Ethics, Spinoza is also considered one of Western philosophy's definitive ethicists.
Spinoza lived quietly as a lens grinder, turning down rewards and honours throughout his life, including prestigious teaching positions, and gave his family inheritance to his sister. Spinoza's moral character and philosophical accomplishments prompted twentieth-century philosopher Gilles Deleuze to name him "The absolute philosopher" (Deleuze, 1990). Spinoza died in February 1677 of a lung illness, perhaps tuberculosis or silicosis caused by fine glass dust inhaled while tending to his trade.
This grand stair has seen the elevation and diminishment of strong climbers on the direct ascent that may become less steady and not so sure footed on their somewhat dizzying descent depending on their sociable reception of reverence, revelry and their aptitude for rambunctiousness. All that is sheer supposition of the progression of historical heights achieved and also of the downward floundering disarray of degradation in regression. All of this was swimming around my unsure head as my hips, knees and ankles offered to give way. The four broken toes were not to be considered as I tried to do this stair and the well within and without some justice in my pictures.
This stair is in Auchinleck House in East Ayrshire, Scotland. It will have seen and supported Dr. Samuel Johnson and James Boswell whilst about their ways to publishing, “A Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland,” also, “The Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides.” Dr. Samuel Johnson having risen to fame as The Man Of Letters of his age with critical acclaim and his outstanding lexicography work that would assure him a place in the Black Adder Pantheon of historical characters of true merit in the absolute finest of humours, “A Dictionary of the English Language. 1755, 1773.”
Blackadder, Ink and Incapability, Dr. Johnson being played perplexed over Sausage by Robbie Coltrane, Episode aired Sep 24, 1987, written by Richard Curtis, Ben Elton.
I happen to believe that I have failed in both pictures here produced together,
A staircase, no a challenge accepted and an achievement attempted
A stairwell staring back and questioning, “How you can picture it?”
I need to return and with crushed toes try much harder to achieve a result worthy of the Stair and of the Well both Inner and Outer.
© PHH Sykes 2025
phhsykes@gmail.com