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Griffon Vulture adult flight_w_ (Gyps fulvus)-6538

 

Like other vultures, it is a scavenger, feeding mostly from carcasses of dead animals which it finds by soaring over open areas, often moving in flocks. It establishes nesting colonies in cliffs that are undisturbed by humans while coverage of open areas and availability of dead animals within dozens of kilometres of these cliffs is high. These huge birds grunts and hisses at roosts or when feeding on carrion.

 

In many cultures around the world, particularly in Western societies, vultures are viewed with disdain. Commonly, people tend to look down on these birds as dirty, ugly, and unhygienic, failing to recognise their importance. People of other cultures, however, hold the vulture in high regard. This is true with the inhabitants of the Tibetan plateau, where vultures are part of traditional funerary customs. In this culture, people are not buried after death as a means of controlling preventable infectious diseases. Instead, the dead are laid to rest in the sky. Monks prepare the bodies of the deceased and set them on platforms to draw the attention of nearby vultures. The vultures discover these human bodies, ingesting them and carrying them off into the sky. Many people view this as one final good deed as the deceased is able to offer something to another living creature before going off to rest in the sky. This practice is not unique to Tibet, however. Historical evidence suggests it has been practiced by cultures around the world for over 11,000 years.

  

The maximum recorded lifespan of the griffon vulture is 41.4 years for an individual in captivity

One of my favorites which shows his attitude and arrogance, or is it elegance? Happy Caturday from JAXson and Obby.

Lots of archival digging these days. This is my friend Austin in Antelope Canyon in Arizona a few years ago. Even though it gets crowded, it's an amazing place

V&A East Storehouse, 2025. (Thanks to D0gwalker for Inspo!)

I have been in a photography slump this past month with work being busy so I wanted to return to my trip to Cannon Beach, Oregon last June for some inspiration.

 

Single shot processed in Lightroom for some shadow adjustments.

 

I can't wait for my trip out to San Diego in February as I am hoping to capture some more beach scenes.

 

Thank you for looking and please do NOT use my images without my written consent.

 

Scott Betz 2018 - © All Rights Reserved

dug up one of my old sketchbooks from college. the "ghost" series.

ARCHIVE §§§§

Title : Autumn Archive... a re edit of an image,

The last week has been so grey and cloudy ...hope the sunrises improve soon.

Year : 2016

Location: Lone Pine, Eyre Peninsula

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Solitude on the Canadian Prairie...somewhere in rural south western Saskatchewan, circa July 30, 2009. From the photo archives...Captured with Nikon D80 and Nikkor 18-200mm lens.

A Great Horned Owl captured in the eucalyptus trees North of the Cloisters.

Morro Bay, ca.

A cousin to a post "long ago from a place far away"

...and remembering summer. I don't think I posted this before // ...herinnering aan de zomer. Ik geloof niet dat ik deze al eerder gepost heb

Believe it or not, there was once a time where anything could be found pulling a priority train on a class one. A former Conrail GP38-2 still in blue regalia stretches its legs leading NS 213 out of Salisbury with hotshot pigs for Atlanta.

(from the archives, taken in January 2006)

 

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Pain froze you, for years — and fear — leaving scars.

But now, as though miraculously, it seems, here you are

 

walking easily across the ground, and into town

as though you were floating on air, which in part you are,

 

or riding a wave of what feels like the world's good will —

though helped along by something foreign and older than you are

 

and yet much younger too, inside you, and so palpable

an X-ray, you're sure, would show it, within the body you are,

 

not all that far beneath the skin, and even in

some bones. Making you wonder: Are you what you are —

 

with all that isn't actually you having flowed

through and settled in you, and made you what you are?

 

The pain was never replaced, nor was it quite erased.

It's memory now — so you know just how lucky you are.

 

You didn't always. Were you then? And where's the fear?

Inside your words, like an engine? The car you are?!

 

Face it, friend, you most exist when you're driven

away, or on — by forms and forces greater than you are.

 

~ Peter Cole ~

 

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