View allAll Photos Tagged argumentation
Snowy Plovers having an argument...
Last March, I captured this species at Fort de Soto. The Snowy Plover is found mainly on the Gulf Coast and the California coast.
En mars dernier, cette espèce était présente à Fort de Soto. Le pluvieux neigeux est principalement présent sur la côte entourant le Golf du Mexique et sur la côte de la Californie.
Fort de Soto, Florida, USA
Apparently crossed knives mean there'll be an argument. Do you want to disagree with me?
For #64/119 Knives. 119 Photos is 2019
A couple of summers ago, I witnessed the most meaningful ceremony I've ever seen. My friend G married her longtime love. And before I go on... a word about their love.
It's something you can feel when you walk into their house. It emanates... not just from them, but from the house itself... the furniture... the animals... the garden... the bric a brac. Entering that house is like walking into some big yellow-warm sunshine embrace; it is nothing short of palpable. And seeing them together is even more powerful.
These are two people who just so clearly delight in each other's company. Like all of us, they have their share of less than stellar days, but they're strong for each other, they support one another, they complement each other... and, like I said, when you see them together, you can't help but share a little hiccup in your heart... a skip-step of giddiness. In short, if ever two people should be married, G and her love were those two people. And they're both from backgrounds that value marriage; that see it as the highest expression of togetherness.
But there was one more factor at play that made their wedding the specialest occasion. Until that year, they had not had the legal right to marry. Why? Because G and her One True Love are women. To which I say... So fucking what??
Marriage, as I understand it, is all about love and commitment. And no two people were ever more in love or more committed.
And to those who argue same-sex marriage somehow undermines the so-called sanctity of the so-called institution of marriage... I say heterosexual couples... with their soaring divorce rates, and rampant infidelity, and vicious child-custody disputes... are doing that themselves.
Besides. Why should anyone's choice of who to love... or who to marry... be anyone else's business? As long as no one's being victimized, what's the problem?
One of the arguments advanced here in Canada, where same-sex marriage is legal (for the time being, anyway)... is that, if THIS is okay, then what's next? Polygamy?
To which I say... what's the hairy issue with polygamy? If three people (or four or five or whatever) choose to form a legal bond and raise their family collectively... again, as long as no one's being victimized... what is the problem?
Oh, say the critics, but polygamy's tied to child abuse. Uh, right. That's the same thing they say about same-sex unions... based on their ludicrous assumption that all homosexuals are somehow pedophiles, or sex fiends. Ridiculous.
I've heard otherwise rational men say... I'd never go to a gay male doctor.
To which I say.... don't flatter yourself. Just because a man may be in a love with another man, that doesn't mean he's uncontrollably flinging himself at every damned man who walks through the door. I mean... I have a straight male doctor. That means... oooooohhhh.... gasp.... he has sex with women!!!! But that has absolutely nothing to do with him examining me in his professional capacity.
We have a polygamist sect here in British Columbia, and it's under near-constant scrutiny for child abuse. The allegation is that very young girls are married off to men, against their will.
To which I say... if that's the case, it's child abuse, for sure. But it's an entirely separate issue from the marital status of the parents involved.
Sorry if I'm ranting here, but this whole issue gets my knickers in a major twist. I think it's because... as one of those kids who was teased and taunted for simply being who I was... I sort of understand what it must be like to face such senseless discrimination.
We have today, in too many parts of North America, a culture that says... while most other forms of organized hate and discrimination are frowned upon... it's okay to ostracize and mistreat people... solely on the basis of who they love.
It's insane. I mean... I remember when I first encountered boys. There was an instant ZING! From that time on, I pretty much always had a crush on some boy or other and... lucky me... I was part of a majority, so having those feelings was a-okay.
The gay and lesbian people I've talked to had similar experiences somewhere in their lives.... where they felt that overwhelming sense of attraction and excitement and curiosity. But... unlucky them, they were part of a minority, and made to think that what they felt was somehow bad or wrong.
I'm on this topic today because our federal government (recently elected and right wing) is threatening to undo the same-sex marriage law. This is just the latest in a string of reversals that's included:
- killing the nearly-enacted bill that would've decriminalized marijuana
- killing an agreement with aboriginal people that would've finally begun addressing the deplorable conditions many of them live in
- reversing the country's commitment to do its part to address climate change, and
- killing a multi-year agreement with the provinces that would've made child care somewhat more affordable and accessible.
In the government's eyes, child care is bad. I mean, everyone knows mommies should stay home with their babies while daddies work. Climate change is just a bunch of made-up garbage; after all, those scientists are all a bunch of liberals. Aboriginal people... notwithstanding the fact that white people stole their land, stuck them on reserves, legislated away their rights and tore a whole generation of children away from their families and communities... Notwithstanding that, "those people" are just lazy; they just need to pull themselves up by their bootstraps. As for marijuana... well, we all know it's FAR more harmful than booze, which government not only endorses but shamelessly profits from. I mean... just look at all the domestic strife, and public brawls, and armed standoffs, and traffic carnage caused by those crazed, violent potheads. And those humsexuals... well. We can't deport them 'cause they're from here (darnit anyway). But we sure as hell owe it to the citizenry to make sure they're denied the most fundamental of human rights... the right to freely love.
I'm sorry if this is a downer but I'm sick at heart for my country today. I fear where we're going and I feel so helpless... watching our common sense progress slip away.
I guess I should just be glad that G and her One True Love are already married... and no one... not even right wing governments... can take what they have away from them.
A male Rose ringed Parakeet arguing with an intruding female. Captured at Diyasaru Uyana, Thalawatugoda, Sri Lanka
There was one subject on which we were unanimous. No arguments whatsoever on this one. From the moment Lee shared a black and white beauty he’d found in these pages, the deal was done. Whatever else we came here to take pictures of, the little bent tree in the wilderness was going to be one of them. At least assuming we could actually find it, that was. All we were certain about was that it was on Dartmoor, and that none of us had seen it on our travels. And although there are a number of very compelling images of it on this platform, none of you was very forthcoming about how to find it. A well guarded secret. And with nine hundred and fifty-four square kilometres of national park to explore, simply happening across it was about as likely as picking the correct numbers for the National Lottery. We needed somebody to tell us where it was. But it didn’t stop us digging. Dave managed to find an article that convinced us he’d narrowed it down to a few sprawling hectares.
It so happened that the author of Lee’s discovery was one of my regular contacts, so I messaged her and asked if she remembered where it was. But as an overseas visitor who’d been chauffeured around the moors for a couple of days, she had no idea. Perhaps she had been sworn to silence. I suspected I knew who’d shown it to her, so I asked him next. “Ah yes you won’t find that on your own. I’ll come along and show you where it is.” Nick’s wealth of Dartmoor inside intelligence seemed to be matched only by his stellar photographic talents and his generosity of spirit. We arranged to meet up with him during our visit, and he sent me details of where I’d need to park. I recognised the screenshot from Google Maps straight away. It seemed Dave’s hunch wasn’t too far from the mark.
In the event, although Nick was able to join us earlier in the day to share another of his secret locations (more of that in another tale), he had to dash off before the afternoon took hold. A good job I’d also arranged to meet another local photographer in the shape of Carl, who spent the day with us traipsing around the moors. It turned out that Carl had also asked Nick for the keys to the kingdom, and having been granted the freedom of the moors, he’d already visited the tree once before. He was keen to return to the scene for another mission. And so after lunch, we headed off towards what would be the final location of the day.
Even though we now knew roughly where the tree was, it was a good job we had a guide. Because standing here at the edge of the car park, it might have well as been on Exmoor for all we could see. Stick a pin in the huge rambling rock strewn green landscape and hope for the best. It was far away enough to deter visitors, its anonymous location protected by an enchantment of bogs and streams in a terrain where only welly boots would take the stubborn few. With a good set of binoculars we might have been able to see it from the top of the rise beyond the car park, but even as we approached the crag upon which the dwarfish hawthorn tree sat, it wasn’t entirely obvious as to exactly where it was. But then we spotted it, clinging to the edge of an expanse of granite tor, tiny and twisting towards us, changing shape from every angle. I hadn’t expected it to be quite so small. “Three ways to shoot it,” Nick had said to me conspiratorially. I hoped to find a fourth.
And here is (maybe) that fourth point of view, the small hunched shape leaning forward, her long locks flowing behind her as she careers down the slope. “I don’t know whether it’s a witch or a skier,” wrote one of my faithful correspondents when I shared this first image on another platform. “Maybe it’s both,” I replied. I don’t know anything about skiing, but “knees bent, lean forward and brace for impact” seem to fit the bill here.
I never did discover the three ways - I found two others that I liked a lot, and three more that I wasn’t so keen on. Excuse me if I’ve been a bit vague about exactly where it is - but seeing as I was entrusted with treasured information and I’m hoping my friends across the river are going to let me in on the inside track again next time I visit, well you know how it is - got to keep the Cornwall and Devon entente going you know. What a beauty she is though, even if finding her was like searching for a very small needle in a city made of haystacks. With such outlandish beauty, she deserves that veil of anonymity.
The night after a brutal storm we traveled down a very soggy path to Dunscaith Castle. Along the way we got out to see what the tide pools looked like, only to be met with some stern arguments from a local sheep who very much wanted us out of the way. In the background is Lock Eishort.
Hello Everyone, it is the day before Christmas Eve and the big day is almost here! I think most of us have been that child at some point in our childhood, not wanting to go to sleep on Christmas Eve, waiting for Santa to arrive with all His gifts and goodies for my siblings and myself. It was absolutely a happy time remembering yawning and trying to stay awake while my parents watch TV. After awhile barely remembering being picked up by my Father and carried upstairs, tucked away in bed.
The other evening in SL I was over at my best friends home with their little daughter, my niece Tikka, the one who steals quarters from my purse all the time. She and my bubsie were having a back and forth about her going to bed else Santa will not stop and bring her presents. The interaction brought back that memory, so listening more to their hilarious argument about reindeer eating cookies and candy canes. I had to quickly go to my inventory and find a fitting pose and take a photo of the adorable scene they were playing out, Daddy taking His little girl to bed. :)
I hope you enjoy and thank you for allowing me to share my photo with you and again, have a wonderful and safe Christmas and a blessing to all of you, :)
xoxo,
Christmas
My wife and I recently visited these caverns, formerly called Luray Cave, in Virginia, United States. The caverns have drawn increasing numbers of visitors since its discovery in 1878. The underground cavern system is generously adorned with speleothems such as columns, mud flows, stalactites, stalagmites, flowstone and mirrored pools. This view shows one of the gorgeous mirrored pools. Without argument, this is one of the most astonishingly beautiful cave systems I have been lucky to visit.
De hele maand juli zou vervolgens de camera niet uit de tas komen vanwege drukte op het werk en verschillende klusjes in en rondom huis.
Toen naast mijn vakantie ook die van mijn vrouw begonnen was reden we in de avond van 31 juli 2025 weg vanuit Apeldoorn naar Izola voor een welverdiende vakantie. De eerste van de twee weken in Slovenië gaven mij de optie om foto's te maken op de bekende spoorlijn van en naar Koper.
Ondanks dat we om 9 uur bij ons hotel terecht konden wisten we bij het wegrijden uit Apeldoorn al dat we eerder aan de Sloveense kust zouden arriveren. ''Je kunt vast wel ergens foto's maken'' was het argument om toch eerder dan gepland te vertrekken en zodoende stonden we op 1 augustus 2025 niet lang na zonsopkomst bij Dekani.
Daar kon in de kleine 2 uurtjes die overbrugt moesten worden alleen de SZ 363 013 gefotografeerd worden. Met containertrein 42080 was de Brižita net uit Koper Tovorna vertrokken richting Hodoš.
English:
On august 1, 2025, the SZ 363 013 came along Dekani as train 42080 from Koper Tovorna to Hodoš.
WICCA'S ORGINALS
Tonya Outfit @ Black Fair // July 4 - 18
Maitreya, Hourglass, Freya, HUD: 10 Colors & 6 Metals It is sold as outfit (top & skirt) and as well the top can be purchased single.
ZIBSKA
Trix @ The Liaison Collaborative
Trix Eyemakeup in 15 Colours
Trix Lips in 21 Colours and 2 fits
Hat and Eyepatch from *Gothic Officer* outfit by L'Emporio,
Maitreya Body, Catwa Kimberly Head, Skin by Essences, Eyes by Core
Blog for links to Mainstores and Events
Isn't it a rare and memorable occasion when young siblings peacefully share personal space? There was no, "He's touching me!!" arguments going on here.
Turns out it was almost the full half hour (sorry Monty P). Two Lesser Black-backs having a right ding-dong
Op 21 maart 2025 kwam in de ochtend de melding dat LTE's Brinnow-shuttle met een blauwe 186 zou rijden. Aangezien 9 van de 10 keer dat je LTE ziet het een saai hok betreft besloot ik dan ook naar de Eempolder te rijden om de trein vast te leggen. Pakken wat je pakken kan is bij deze locomotieven wel mijn motto...
Bij aankomst op de welbekende stek in het weiland stond Björn reeds gereed, maar werd ik bij het uitpakken van mijn spullen aangesproken door de boer van wie het weiland is. Ik werd gewezen op een nieuw bordje "verboden toegang" op het toegangshek. Een kleine discussie volgde, waarbij ik vooral het argument "je loopt het voer van de beesten kapot" tegen sprak: een koe loopt zelf ook over het gras en is een stuk zwaarder ;-) Afijn, hun weiland, hun regels. Prima.
Aangezien ik door werkzaamheden in Soest en 3 keer wachten bij een overweg veel langer onderweg was geweest dan ik zou willen besloot ik direct door te rijden naar de volgende overweg. Niet veel later kon de 186 493 met de kleurrijke trein 41309 vanuit de Botlek gefotografeerd worden.
You never win with a Starling but this Woody stood his ground and started yelling that he was working out and did not want to be bothered, but to no avail, the Starling stood fast. A comical image for sure.
Thanks for visiting and for all the kind words always appreciated very much.
Macro Mondays ~ Teddy Bear
This little teddy sits in the bottom of a mug. He slowly appears as any liquid in the mug is drunk.
My grandchildren love the mug and always vie to be the first to use it. I wish I'd had two of these, so many arguments could have been prevented!
Thank you to everyone who pauses long enough to look at my photo. All comments and Faves are very much appreciated
Hooded Crow (Corvus cornix) (also called hoodie)
Oban Bay Argyll - Scotland
Many thanks to all those who take the time to comment on my photos. It is truly appreciated.
DSC_6282
Painted by the Window – Blue and Gold
🇬🇧 Here, colour isn't a choice. It's the whole argument.
Light crosses a cloister window and paints the wall — the projection becomes a picture, the surface a canvas. Cold blue receives warm gold, and the two hold a quiet argument.
At the foot of the frame, a checkerboard of tiles anchors the abstraction in stone — geometry keeping the organic in place, without explaining it.
Cloister of La Cambre Abbey, Brussels, Belgium, 2025.
🇫🇷 Ici, la couleur n'est pas un choix. C'est tout l'argument de l'image.
La lumière traverse une fenêtre du cloître et peint le mur — la projection devient tableau, la surface devient toile. Le bleu froid reçoit le doré chaud, et les deux tiennent une dispute silencieuse.
Au bas du cadre, un damier de dalles ancre l'abstraction dans la pierre — la géométrie qui retient l'organique, sans l'expliquer.
Cloître de l'Abbaye de La Cambre, Bruxelles, Belgique, 2025.
My evening trip to the North Yorkshire Moors a couple of weeks ago was rather disappointing, I think I’ve alluded to this in another post. The disappointment was mostly down to the condition of the heather, I was on one of the biggest moors in the area and it was a dry and dead wasteland, where it should of been bouncing with thick heather and cotton grass. The condition of the moor has mostly been blamed on the heather beetle by expert bodies like the moorland association and local press. However I did find healthy heather on the outskirts of the moor as this posted photo will testify. Are we saying these little insects don’t like the more sheltered areas and would be rather in the wind swept open moor. I have no reason to be a heather beetle denier, and don’t doubt they played a part in the heather destruction, but the elephant in the room is the experts avoidance to blame moorland management on the over zealous practice of heather burning, all in the interest of grouse shooting, to my eye I saw more evidence of burnt scrub than dead vegetation. I know there are for and against arguments for the practise which was originated by hill farmers for managing grazing area’s but now the status quo is unevenly balanced on the side commercial hunting and be damed the environment.
and arguments. In other words, I want to get married :-)
― Jarod Kintz
HPPT!!
cercis, compact eastern redbud, 'Ace of Hearts', j c raulston arboretum, ncsu, Raleigh, north carolina
Back from my foreheads argument with my the nose of my surfboard. The surfboad won. All is well however, will catch up on your posts soonish.
Minolta X-700 50mm lens: cost $10
Fujifilm 35mm 400 - $6
Digital or analog ?
The argument begins with cost.
$10 film + $15 developing = $25/roll.
$25 with 36 shots = 70 cents per click. Well, I guess that's not too bad, but not every shot is a keeper. So let's say 1 out of every 3 is good then it's cost was $2.10... Well now, that sounds bad.
Figure in the cost of a nice vintage analog camera $10 to $170 bucks vs. $300 to $1300 digital.. You sure would have to take plenty of pictures to break even. But from then on digital is all free....
An afternoon bowling, movies, amusement park, golfing would all cost $25 - so even if just one shot of the whole roll was a keeper you still had a great afternoon analog photographing for that $25...
Aesthetics: You just can't beat the buttery colors of a good analog picture. The nuances are delicious.
The muddiness on the left of this shot is indeed that - a muddy path over the leaves.
There is a deeper connection with the subject.
There is a more cerebral and concentrated approach to framing up and structuring with analog. That moment is unique.
Could a digital make boots look so good?
I'm not a 50mm shooter, but the DOF is really nice.
Starting out in photography I was told you will find your favorite lens.... I didn't understand and immediately disagreed. Well yes, you will find your lens. Mine is 28mm. A whole different way of thinking with each lens.
Your thoughts appreciated.
Have a great day friend.....
- an everyday phenomenon
( * Posted the day before the legendary Oval Office Shouting Match between Trump and Zelenskyy - exquisite serendipity!! )
The fountain in Parkway, WGC
Archive-filler for London Dada album 2016 -18
( photo was made in 2011 but not posted 'til 2017 )
Link to the posted Work:
londondada.art/2017/10/26/london-dada-works-no-994-994a-s...
The original ' Shouting Match ' post;
londondada.art/2015/03/09/work-no-747-shouting-match-2017...
Some tea stains. So treated them and laundered. Stains all gone. But now there are different ones. Re treat and re wash. I wonder if there will be an improvement!
If ever there was an argument for leaving the bulky and heavy DSRL back in the digs this iPhone shot should serve the purpose and remind me that I can save a little weight in my rucksack. If in doubt try looking at the image in large format.
The view looks south from the summit of The Ahornspitze and is dominated by the triangular lump that is the true summit of the mountain. The twin summit where I took this image from is slightly lower but unlike the one shown here can be seen from the nearby town of Mayrhofen. As a result a large cross has been erected on the slightly smaller top.
Most hikers and climbers venture as far as the summit shown here, however there is an interesting scramble between the two tops which reduces the numbers who make it to the cross. If you look closely you will be able to see a couple of hikers in the shadow of this prominent summit.
Incidentally the red and white painted markers on the rocks are the accepted indicators of the path. They can be found throughout Europe but the practice doesn't seem to have caught on in the UK. We tend to build a plethora of rocky cairns instead.