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Avanti West Coast Class 390 390121 "Opportunity" Woodacre on 1m15 1434 Glasgow Central -London Euston on 27/04/2023
Notice: We have attempted to identify each mushroom correctly, please be aware that we are not experts. Please do not solely rely on this source for identification and determination of edibility.
Change on the Ipswich Buses 92S Shuttle from Holbrook Royal Hospital School to Gravel Pit lane.The Optare is in for maintenance so ADL Enviro 200 YX63 ZVW was the subsitute. Seen here opposite Gravel Pit Lane connecting with the 92, 1025 from Ipswich to Manningtree.,Scania Omnicity YR61 RUW
Oh, how the light changes… it gave Monet his Haystack Series,
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haystacks_(Monet)
And never fails to delight and surprise me here, when least expected.
This photo was taken 5 minutes before 'Last light'..
Can you believe it…and one of the swans is just paddling into view..
Besides a little straighten up, no edits.
This is exactly what I was seeing.
Reminds me, well, it's almost the colours of our Australian flag of the indigenous.
aboriginalflag.com.au/history.html
Each colour has a symbolic meaning for them as a collective people.
Which brings me to this story, of when I was last here at the lake...
Almost this time last year, mid-August, 3 days after my mother's birthday, I took a few hours off and met up with a fellow poet and high school teacher, Robert, for lunch at the kiosk at the other end of the lake.
We chose this spot because there wouldn't be many people around during the week, and we could be as loud and animated as we like, reading each other our latest poems.
There was only one other table occupied at this outdoor café, an older lady and her male friend, and on second look, I realised it was Liz, whom I hadn't seen for years.
We used to swap my kinesiology for her Reiki, way back in the 90's...
She was having lunch with a fellow whom she'd met on holiday up at Wilpeena Pound, and he was passing through on his way back to Sydney.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wilpena_Pound
(Thought this was a weird coincidence as the poem I'd planned to read gave mention and great respect to this place.)
They were both indigenous. (Also a coincidence, in regards to the poem..)
LIz recognised me too and we were both delighted to see each other, so I invited them over to sit and listen to my reading after we'd all finished eating.
The poem I'd intended to read to Robert now had a surprise bigger audience, and little did Liz and friend know that they were in for quite a surprise…
My poem was about rural life in the 1900's and onwards, as had been told to me, about how it was for the aboriginal peoples when us 'whities' moved in, just a bit further south of here, in western New South Wales.
It takes a final twist at the end, relating to the events surrounding my mother's birth on a sheep station, outside Tamworth, 1929.
Mum's mother had come down with influenza which rapidly became severe pneumonia. This brought on early labour, and she died giving birth to a tiny premature baby, who grew up to be my own mother.
This took place in the harshest part of the freezing cruel winter, that is well known to descend and sweep across the broad expansive Liverpool Plains, that has no protection against the icy gale force winds..
Mum's Aunty Ida was a full blood indigenous lady from the 'Kamillaroi' people, married to my white Great Uncle Bill.
As typical of the times, this was quite a bone of contention, quietly chewed upon by the rest of the family..
But amongst all the following grief and mêlée, she was the one who stepped forward to take this fragile premmy home, to raise her with her own half cast children after the death of her white sister-in-law.
Mum's own father, a butcher and book keeper for the Currabubulla Sheep Station was a drinking, gambling man who, in shock at the sudden death of his very capable wife, was ill equipped to run the house and care for 4 other children.
And so he let this new fragile baby go, thinking she was so weak, she wouldn't survive for long anyway ..
Two years had passed when he heard through the grapevine that little two year old Betty was actually blossoming with robust health, and from the urgings of his other children, now settled into coping without their deceased mother and two years older as well, quite looking forward to having their little sister rather than facing the ordeal of caring for a sickly newborn…well, he went and took her back from their aboriginal Aunty Ida..and brought her home.
My mother had grown up for her first two years, quite happily with this loving blended family.. who, of course, were left heartbroken, when discovering they'd been told a lie, and little Betty wasn't going to visit her real siblings, just for the day …and wouldn't be 'coming back tomorrow'…as promised...
In fact, Mum had to wait another 45 long years before I could find her half cast cousin, Una , to be reunited..
Her father justified it all with the excuse to the rest of his family that he'd heard that full blood Aunty was going on Walkabout soon and was going to take little Betty with her.
My poem concluded that without this wonderful aboriginal woman, my Great Aunty Ida, and her huge heart, my own mother had little chance of survival, and my immediate family that is a little twig of the whole ancestry tree may never have existed.
Well, all three of my audience sat transfixed at the social/anthroplolgical details I'd managed to write in rhyming, rhythmic, poetic verse.
While reading it aloud to my indigenous friends, at various points I became painfully aware of how close to the bone some of the subject matter was in their history of dismissive disregard from the white man, and I'd pause, almost to gasp for the next breath... should I skip the next bit? It's so raw!
But I'd glance up from the page at Liz, and see her sitting back with a grin from ear to ear, gently nodding with such huge satisfaction and appreciation that her people had just received a gift of precious, heartfelt validation of their struggles of recognition ever since 'civilised colonisation' began over 200 nears ago.
Lets just say it surpassed a certain flaky, belated "Sorry…" message from the govt about 7 years ago.
I won't risk my "Safe" category by saying the more earthier Aussie version of that..
Gosh though, I'm still glad I'd already cut three of the most graphic chapters out of it…
The poem begins with a tribute to Eddie Mabo, tireless campaigner for indigenous rights, then there's about ten pages of a collection of stories told to me first hand from various people over the years, entwined together to paint the bigger picture, concluding with my mother's rocky beginning in life and how she was given a second chance at this life by an indigenous angel..
There's more to the story of this day, to be continued another time perhaps…but for now I'll finish by telling you that during one chapter I had to stop reading completely and break down into sobs.
I was in such a state of overwhelm, it had hit me that it was such a privilege to be able to read it to an indigenous audience and they absolutely loved it.
Yes, I had written it, but it was only then that I really started to feel the depth of it..
Meanwhile, poor Robert, my straight-laced, conservative, whiter-than-white teacher friend sat at the end of the table gobsmacked-speechless with awe throughout the whole proceedings, and totally forgotten, due to all the interaction between the rest of us..
But hey ~ Phew! ~ What a day...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We have 55018, in 1979, working the 10:45 Leeds - Kings Cross passing Lofthouse Colliery. I am stood on the road bridge, which now gives access to Outwood station.
The view 41 years later, has an Azuma, working a Leeds - Peterborough service (due to Sunday engineering works). This shot is from the drone, as no photo is possible from the road bridge due to trees.
Lofthouse colliery site is now a nature reserve, and has a memorial to the 7 miners who lost their lives when the workings at the colliery were flooded on March 21st, 1973.
"Changes...."
... happen in all aspects of living, but also geographically for a variety of reasons.
Geographically speaking, one area always shifting and changing is where Corney Brook/Rivière à Lazare flows into the gulf. The currents, storm surf & winds will shift the sand and gravel quite dramatically, often beckoning me to come down for a few pix.
Yesterday was such a day, I had planned to go for a drive up further, but then got distracted by this.
© Michel JS Soucy
011 :: 365 :: 11th January 2013
This is one of those things that you can push an object through is and it will make the shape, for the life of me I don't know what it is called, hope all you smart people out there can tell me.
Originally I had posted a bw mono version of this but changed my mind and it is now pink mono :)
Adam Dental Clinic always has an amazing light show. So here are a few examples! Here the colours change over tine so look at all three!
Dovrefjell, Norway
After spending 2 weeks in some of the harshest conditions that I have ever had to face, I am truly grateful for what I got to experience;
Temperatures of up to -25 Celsius, winds of up to 100km\h, powerful blizzards, long sleepless nights (19 hours per nigth) in a 2.2 square meters tent, the pressure of not running out of fuel for melting snow for hydration, the long daily walks up to the ridges on the traces of the wild musk ox.. it was all worth it, and it was a life changing experience for me.
I am not a wildlife photographer, yet my passion for nature drove me to see these beautiful creatures in their wild habitat in the most iconic season of the year - winter. So the photographic results are only a collection of beautiful memories that will stay with me for a long time from now on.
More pictures to come in the upcoming weeks.. hope you enjoy them!
A crisp display of military precision in Place Pilsudskiego as these young men come on duty to replace the Honour Guard at the Warsaw Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.
One of the more unusual little series of photos in the PMT archive relates to this move. It's odd to modern day eyes to see a bus being towed by another, but until about 30 years ago it was quite commonplace. Changes in legislation and fear of H&S repercussions have generally seen the remaining operators contract out their recovery work to specialists, and dealers/ breakers using exclusively lorries.
Here 'Bertie' the bus is about to be towed away by Reggie the Royal Tiger. Well, actually the ex PMT bus being taken away by a dealer's Royal Tiger is KEH 606, an AEC Regal 1, new in 1946, but lengthened in 1955 after which it lasted another 4 years in PSV service. The relatively youthful Royal Tiger was apparently owned by dealer Frank Cowley from Salford. I believe this picture shows its removal from PMT property but if it does, I guess it must have served as a store shed briefly. Records show that the bus passed to a Manchester area breaker shortly afterwards.
If you were to ask me what my favorite meal of the day is, my answer would be breakfast... followed closely by lunch and supper. Might as well throw “elevensies” in there as well... with size 13 feet, I’m obviously part Hobbit. I feel much the same way about seasons. I’m not so sure that I could fully appreciate living in a place where there are no seasons. I would miss the sultry greens of summer, the ephemeral vividness of autumn, the sleepiness of winter, and the hope of spring... there’s something to look forward to in each coming season, even in so brief a moment as this one from Rough Ridge here in the mountains of North Carolina.
There’s always something to expect in the season we’re now in... Christmas. The crisp, dry air makes the stars shine a little brighter... and makes me realize Christmas wouldn’t be the same on the beaches of Australia or New Zealand! I wouldn’t pass up the opportunity, though Christmas in winter just seems right. Why else would Bob Cratchit need an extra lump of coal?
My expectations for the season changed some years back when I was part of a music team that visited a particular nursing home... I played carols and hymns on the guitar, along with my friend, Clyde, as others sang along. The women in the group decided to buy presents for everyone in the home... men got a comb and a pair of socks, women got a hairbrush and Chapstick, and everyone (that could have one) got a big candy cane. My first thought concerning this was “We could do better.” My second thought wasn’t much better... but then I noticed something. Most everyone there were crying tears of joy, because someone remembered them. The presents were small tokens... but they came with a powerful added gift of touch as a hug or a hand held, or a word spoken, or a willing ear... expressions of love for those who feel left out or forgotten. It truly is the little things in life that make lasting differences. Remember that this season!
This has been a year of challenges and firsts for me... this will be my first Christmas as a married man, and I’m loving it. I’d better be, as I just read the loving inscription in my ring, “If you can read this, you’re in trouble!” That’s one expectation I didn’t expect... don’t tell Joyce!
Check out this song by Matthew West, My Own Little World... it touches on issues that would do well for us to know, especially in this season. Seven little words in that song greatly impact how I see this world... “Break my heart for what breaks yours.” Listen: www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9Yasgzjc0w
This is the first tree I have seen so far with all, or nearly all, of its leaves changed. Taken on a very damp morning using a Nikon D5100 with Nikkor 50mm f/1.8 lens.
2015/2016 was a bad year for coral in many parts of the world with the third and most extensive global bleaching event so far. Earlier wide spread episodes of bleaching occurred in 1998 and 2010 but this last bleaching event has lasted longer and affected more countries.
Mauritius can be included in the long list of countries where coral bleached last year. In February/ March 2016 slowly our underwater landscape changed. At first it seemed that the corals had a sprinkling of snow. Then much of the coral lost its colour as surface sea temperatures climbed and then stayed above normal for several weeks. Snorkelling in both the lagoon and outside the reef became a very depressing experience as the white skeletons of corals became more and more common. We knew that all of the coral wouldn't necessarily be able to recover but that some, hopefully not all, might become smothered by algae and die.
The pink cauliflower like coral was one of the few species in the frame that seemed to be able to cope with the higher temperatures.
Extensive information is available from the American National Oceanic Atmospheric Agency.
coralreefwatch.noaa.gov/satellite/analyses_guidance/globa...
They also publish regular maps showing surface sea water temperatures in the world and coral bleaching alerts.
This was the bleaching alert from the NOAA for the 1st of March 2016
www.coralreefwatch.noaa.gov/satellite/bleaching5km/images...
Encyclopaedia Brittanica gives further information
www.britannica.com/topic/Mass-Bleaching-of-Coral-Reefs-Th...
John Oliver hosts a climate change debate and explains why balanced discussion of climate change in the media is unreasonable.
A tree started shedding (losing) leaves as Fall deepened, the once green ground also turned brown, at Historic Stewart Farm, Surrey BC.
NR81,NR82,NR83,2207 work 5MP9 SCT service through the Callington curve on 15-6-2007. SCT had just started leasing these 3 x NR locos from Pacific National after the hook and pull contract with Pacific National had expired while GWA provide bankers and crews from Melbourne to Perth
,,,,cirtainlly sir
a Penny Farthing will get you this
....plus change ,,no tax ,,and no credit ,,,
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Kawasaki Z1 (1972-75) Engine 903cc four-cylinder, air-cooled, double-overhead camshaft
Registration Number JDG 303 N (Gloucester)
KAWASAKI SET
www.flickr.com/photos/45676495@N05/sets/72157631970102535...
The Kawasaki Z1 was developed under the project name "New York Steak" introduced in 1972 the Z1 was noted for being the first large-capacity Japanese four-cylinder motorcycle to use the double-overhead-camshaft system on a production motorcycle. At that time only the MV Agusta 750 S used this system, the MV was an extremely expensive machine costing over double the price of the Kawasaki.
The basic design of the Z1 remained relatively unchanged until 1975, when the 903 cc "Z1-B" was introduced, with changes including increased power output, improved suspension, and a stiffer frame. The automatic chain oiler was deleted, the styling was revised – essentially paint scheme and side-panel nomenclature – and the braking was improved.
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Shot 01.01.2018 at Brooklands, Weybridge, Surrey Ref 132-169
'Change comes to us, whether we welcome it or not. It is necessary for change to occur, for how do we progress if not through change?
I hold no contempt for this change. I have lived this life and worn this face well, I shall go out on my own terms. Fully embracing whomever shall take the place of this face. A sacrifice is necessary for change. And I gladly take that sacrifice so life may begin anew.
Run fast Doctor. And always be kind...'