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I reworked an picture from earlier this year taken in Jasper, Arkansas. This is formerly a grain mill from the turn of the century surrounded by huge, old trees.
Textures by Kerstin Frank. View large and on black and thank you for stopping by!
- Sanki aşk sustu dedim..
- Aşk hiç susar mı? dedi..
- Sen susuyorsun ya dedim..
- Ben aşk mıyım? dedi..
- Aşksın dedim..
"Sustu.."
Necip Fazıl Kısakürek
A big mess and a moment that still fascinates me to this day when I look at this photo. There is so much to discover and every time I look at it I see a little more detail. The little black duckling doesn't want to fit right into this chaotic-looking mess of flying seagulls. I asked myself why is it even found in the middle of so many seagulls? What is it doing there as the only one of its kind? And then you're just suddenly left alone. What could have been the reason for the departure of so many seagulls? In any case, it wasn't me, because I photographed the whole scene from a greater distance and had been standing in this hidden place for a while. But whatever, many questions remain unanswered and the whole scenery is still a mystery to me to this day. And that's right, because we humans don't must have to have an explanation for everything that's going on on our Planet. Nature keeps many secrets to itself for a good reason I think.
A few days before I took this photo I ended up talking with some people from Sedona on a trail. I had hiked more than 50 of the trails around Sedona by 2011 and asked them about some of the lesser known places to get some great photos. They told me about this secret location and since it had recently rained mentioned that there were some potential puddles that could provide nice reflections of Cathedral Butte at sunset. Notice that the view of the Butte from this location is at a different angle as that seen in photos from Red Rock Park or around Oak Creek. I was lucky to be the only person there that night.
Buachaillie Etive Mor, as the falls were a bit low on water, i chose a slighty higher up view point. I had to wait a bit as the mountain was almost completely covered in low cloud.
Canon EOS 5D MKII, Canon 17-40mm, F16, 21mm, ISO50, Exp 1/5 Seconds
Lee Pro Glass ND 0.9, Lee Soft Grad 0.75
Raw File Processed in Lightroom, Edited in Elements.
Please do not use this image on websites, blogs or any other media without asking my written permission. All rights reserved.....© Brian Kerr Photography 2011
PLEASE ONLY COMMENT OR FAVE IF YOU ACTUALLY LIKE MY PHOTOGRAPHS, I WILL NOT RESPOND TO YOUR IMAGES JUST BECAUSE YOU COMMENT ON MY WORK, MANY THANKS.
Same marina as yesterday's posting. This is from the end, towards Oslo. The moonlight was great, even if the moon was not full.
I've decided to keep the flairs and star trails.
If you wonder what's wrong with the reflections, there is a sheet of thin ice a few hundred meters out.
Thanks for stopping by.
All comments are appreciated.
I've recently made the step over from processing using Lightroom to using CaptureOne. Thought I'd have a go on one of my own favorites.
(Asker is the place I live. It is roughly 20 km outside Oslo, the capitol of Norway.)
yanip tutusmam icin bir selamin yeter,
bir gülüsün ölüme deger..
ince ince kavrulmam icin bir bakisin yeter,
bir dokunusun yanmaya deger..
______________________________________________________________
Seen in explore 01.06.2009
lets ask... one by one...
in the future, they wanna be...
p.s: i wanna make this series and send it to my new Mayor ;)
let see... what is his reaction for this...
I spent Friday evening puddle hunting in Seattle. The storm was still heavy when we arrived but I didn't mind the free shower. It felt nice to see rain again, it's been too long.
This was a night of unfortunate events. I locked my keys in my trunk. That moment when you stare at your keys while the trunk is closing..... only a $75 fee to unlock it....after his first offer of $169 + $20 service fee. I asked if that price included oral favors! To top it off we were recording an R&B show in which I forgot to press record during the first half of the show....doh!
In the end, I got my puddle shots. That made me happy.
So I was asked for some "group" pictures. I guess this will have to do for now. No time to edit anything really. We just had another wildfire pick up next to us, 700 acres burning already. Grrrr, people can be such a-holes!!!!
Our desert Tommies. :) Remembered the Scammel this time.
Most likely most people are asking themselves this same question after reading the word Anambas islands just as I did when I first heard about this mysterious Archipelago. Even though this little known Island group is located only a bare 150 miles East of Singapore its silent existence has never really reached the outside world.
Unless you are a marine biologist or working in the gas industry in Indonesia you are most probably unaware of this little hidden gem, a remote off the beaten track place where almost no tourist ever travels. The whole Anambas Archipelago consists of 238 islands from which only 28 are inhabited. Most of the little islands are a mere speck of white sand and a palm tree in the middle of the South Chinese Sea. Once you get here you will set foot on a very interesting island world where the local inhabitants are straight descendant of the proud and daring seafaring Bugis Nomad people.
An island group surrounded by gorgeous reefs full of colorful coral and jaw dropping sea creatures. All this in a backdrop of turquoise colored transparent water. Although getting to the Islands is not the easiest thing in the world it is not that difficult either.
Latitude. 3.3°, Longitude. 106.2666667°
Something a little different today :) Thank you all for asking about my health. I'm feeling pretty well today. Went to my ENT doctor and will be having some minor surgery on January 5th. Also have to have a tube put into one of my ears. SEE!! I REALLY am a kid!! LOLOL!!! Will be round to visit soon. Promised my son I would make him some "glorified brownies" Yummy stuff!
All rights reserved
Recipe for Glorified Brownies - preheat oven to 375 degrees
1 cup chopped pecans (I don't use them cause kid doesn't like them)
1 12 oz semi sweet chocolate chips
2 cans Eagle Brand CONDENSED milk
2-3 teaspoons vanilla ( I use 3 cause I like it)
1 box, graham crackers. Take 3 of the long ones out...don't use them. Crush the graham crackers very well.
Mix all ingredients together. It will be so thick you will think you need Popeye arms.
Butter VERY WELL a 9x9 pan. Bake for about 20 - 30 mins. until golden brown and "set". They are oooey gooey good!
Eat and enjoy!! They are EXTREMELY rich!
Regener - Pappik - Busch - Ask me now - 31.03.2023 - Jazzit Musik Club Salzburg
www.jazzfoto.at/konzertfotos23/regener-pappik-busch/Index...
Besetzung:
Sven Regener: trumpet
Ekki Busch: piano
Richard Pappik: drums
(repost)
That is what the California Highway Patrol officer said.
We were ensconced in an open garage waiting out an armed 211 suspect when those words were spoken.
My call came in at 2:30. A man was barricaded in his apartment after a shootout with police. At the time, I was home sick with a headache the size of the Rock of Gibraltar. But a barricade is a barricade and I threw on some clothes and rushed to the scene.
I stopped at the road closure and was waved through by one of the CHP guys that yelled, “Hey, I know you....go ahead.”
“OK”
After parking the car where the chippy said I should, I asked our esteemed parking enforcement officer (also known as the Parking Nazi) who was standing guard, where was everything happening and where should I go.
He motioned somewhere down the street towards some low-rent apartment complexes and told me to walk on the right side of the street through a vacant lot - nothing but dirt and a creosote bush.
“OK.”
I kept an eye out for what was going on and watched as the guys from the PD’s Special Response Team ( SRT) moved into place.
“Cool,” thought I and grabbed a few shots of one of the guys creeping across the roof, rifle in front of him, pack behind. I thought, “If I get nothing else this will be good art."
I heard people yelling at me and here comes the PIO from the Barstow Police running across the street telling me that hey, I was right in the line of fire and I should like move.
“OK.”
“Don’t go south of the palm tree,” he said, “that way you won’t be in the line of fire.”
“OK. Can I stand behind the palm tree?”
“Sure,” he said, “but I’m not responsible if you get shot.”
“OK”
Seemed to be my thought processes at the time, singular “OK’s”
I stood behind the palm tree for a little bit and then moved — I really wasn’t in the mood to get shot.
The reporter showed up, a radio guy showed up, a small TV station guy showed up and we all sat around in the heat waiting for something to happen....for a long time.
Negotiators were on the phone, relatives got on the phone to try and talk this guy out. The man had been wounded slightly in the first shootout — shot in the hand and the arm — and yelled out to his friends that he was afraid the cops were going to shoot him on sight.
We all knew that this would never happen, but the guy wouldn’t come out. The cops even brought him cigarettes when he asked for them - actually threw them up to him on the balcony. If they had wanted to shoot him, they could have at that time.
I got permission to wander a bit, down in parking area where the CHP rifle shooters were set up — watched them concentrate completely down their black gun sites. I was close enough that if I stuck my head out I could see the guy’s balcony — really, really well — with bloody curtains swaying in the wind.
Time wore on, heat got worse, men got shifted around so as to give the ones sitting in the sun a break.
We waited. Cops gave me Gatorade and water. It was hot.
As dusk set in I kept hoping this guy would come out with his hands up while I still had light to shoot by. Even with my new digital camera (YEA!) I was still a newbie at using the flash in low light situations so I wanted halfway good light.
I simply couldn’t figure out why this guy would NOT come out.
Was it the macho mentality of the whole gang banger personality? Was it that he knew he was facing some major jail time? He was already a loser in that department. What possibly could be worth prolonging this stand-off?
Time wore on some more. The apartment complex residents started getting restless. Hoots and hollers and jungle-like monkey noises came from the apartments and from those watching and waiting behind the lines. A bottle was thrown.
I have to admit, this made a me a tad nervous. I could just see this thing erupting into an all-out riot. Half the people in the complex were convinced the cops were going to gun the guy down and the other half were afraid of the first half.
Soon the cops had enough waiting and started firing tear gas canisters into the apartment. Oh my! Horrible sound those loud guns. Once that tear gas thing started I didn’t stick my head out any more. I crouched down behind a car. I could still see the CHP shooters but wasn’t in the line of fire.
Good thing.
Several minutes after the first rounds of tear gas were volleyed into the apartment there came three quick shots - pop - pop - pop — out the sliding glass door — over the balcony.
“Holy shit,” thought I, “that guy is firing at us.”
“Hey,” I yelled, “Was he shooting this way.”
“Yes, Lara, he was shooting this way.”
I crouched down lower. Just about fully dark now. The people that had come out to watch were yelling the guy was yelling babies were screaming and one Barstow cop remarked, “I can’t believe these people brought their kids out to a gunfight.”
Law enforcement did not return gun fire but more tear gas was used.
Still no sound, no reaction from the barricaded man.
One of the CHP guys came back down into our spot and said that after the three rounds fired by the suspect, one more shot was heard a few minutes later - muffled. Not aimed out the sliding glass door — inside the building.
He said quietly that he had heard _that_ sound before.
Time was starting to lose meaning. Amidst the noise and chaos I had been on the phone relaying the latest developments to the reporter who had gone back to write his story. More tear gas was lobbed into the building but the feeling was that the man had offed himself with that final fourth shot.
My deadline to leave was fast approaching — close to 9 p.m. I had the images from the afternoon’s deployment and some close-ups of the guys close to me. But no resolution. No closure.
The crowd up the street was really starting to turn ugly and I debated going up to photograph that, but figured that a camera flashing would trigger the already riotous behaviour that was growing.
Two guys threw bottles at the sheriff’s SWAT team. Ooooh, not a good idea. Those SWAT-dudes are bad-asses with attitudes and guns. They do NOT take kindly to being pelted with bottles. The bottle-throwers were arrested and the crowd scene cooled after that.
No lights were on in the apartment, no movement was seen and all negotiations had long since broken off. The man’s last words and comments to the negotiator were pretty much that the only way he was going to leave was in a body bag.
I still hoped not, but I left to file my art. Before I left the center of the action, which is where I had been allowed to stay (don’t ask me why, I was just allowed to stay.) I made sure the police chief and one of the LT’s knew I was returning and wanted to be back close to where things were happening.
“Sure.” they said, “Just show your press pass, tell whoever we said it was ok and come on back - stay out of the line of fire.”
“OK”
I left, filed the creeping-across-the-roof pic and one of two officers and a bullet proof shield and came back.
Things were as I left them — no more noise, no more nothing.
About 11 p.m. the sheriff's office took over. The Barstow PD SRT and CHP back-ups had been on duty squinting down their sites for almost 8 hours, it was time for a relief team.
I watched the camouflaged SWATs come in, dash about the courtyard smashing out the remaining lights that would put them in danger and get into place, covering each other with guns pointed toward the apartment as they ran across the courtyard.
I couldn’t help myself, I thought “Jeez, this is just like in the movies.” Only this time it was for real — surrealistic, but real.
When the Barstow guys and CHP left I was still standing there all by my lonesome. One of them yelled back at me, “You probably ought to come out too.”
“OK.”
That seemed like a good idea to me — it was dark and I didn’t like being alone.
I came up out of the garage hole and plopped down on the front of a fire truck. Sheriff’s homicide detectives were wondering who the hell was I and why was I there. I smiled, introduced myself and sat back quietly on the fire engine, hoping that no one would actually notice me. I even put my camera down.
The sheriff’s Captain saw me, smiled and let me stay. I was now considered a “friendly.” Cool.
I had kept in contact with the night editor at our sister paper, even after the Dispatch went to bed, did some interviewing, got the correct on-the-record-quotes that supported the police’s version of what happened and waited — and waited.
For almost an hour after the SO took over a deputy called out over a loud speaker. “Aaron. Come out with your hands up. The building is surrounded.” Every few minutes for almost an hour. Over and over. The same tone of voice. No emotion. It could have been a computerized recording it was so precisely repeated, but it wasn’t.
Aaron didn’t come out.
Talking time was up and the SWAT team started in with more powerful tear gas. Volley after volley. No Aaron. He was either immune to the gas or dead.
Soon the team took out the doors and entered the building using flash-bang devices before going into each room - “auditory and visual distractions” they call them.
Hell honey, those are bombs.
Every time they said over the radio they were setting off another one, all the law enforcement guys, suits, SWAT dudes, everybody around me, put their fingers in their ears. I wish I had photographed that, but it is hard to hold a camera with your fingers in your ears.
Time moved faster, soon after the SWAT guys entered they called for the SO medics that had flown in on a chopper. Word came out fast that it was over, Aaron was dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.
It was one o’clock in the morning. There was almost a palpable sigh, a slumping of the shoulders when it was over. I had been at the scene for almost ten hours.
It was not a good resolution. Not the one that everyone; law enforcement, medics, firefighters, friends and family had hoped for.
I remembered what the CHP shooter said after word came in about the fourth shot — “We are in a stand-off with a dead man.”
He was right.
•••••••••••••
Rest in Peace Aaron
Derdi aşmış.
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Derdi âşık olmakmış.
Söyleyemez bildiğini
İnleyen bir kamış adı ney..
Derde düşmüş,
Derin halde.
Hâle girmiş her mahalde.
Ehil imiş her ahvâlde.
İnleyen bir kamış adı ney...
Bitmiş bir çemende,
Kimseler girmez.
Huu diyecek diyemiyor,
Üfleyen olmaz.
Ağlamış;
Göz yaşıyla dolmuş hep içi
Kör kuyunun başında yalnız
inleyen bir kamış adı ney.
F.M
I was at the beach for a good 2 hours.. Didnt see one girl in a Bikini.... We were leaving Driving away.. and these 4 walked by.. I asked.. They said Sure.. and Here ya go. Sure they are prolly under age.. but.. well.. Here ya go!
"Aşk"ın günümüzdeki algısına ithafen ...
Kemerburgaz civarındaki ormanlar, bu konuda epey zengin ...
You and I
filled the earth
and it overflowed
with lives not lived
just wind in grass
and through leaves
dead but not fallen
we shiver and shake
and loosen our grip
our youth slipping silently
away
© justin haynes.
Ask him for one!
COLTON LINDEN
Resi Team
Very colorful design with avatar poses and oooh light trails! Swirly vectors too!
By Kaete Guisse
Posted by Second Life Resident Torley Linden. Visit LindenWorld B.