View allAll Photos Tagged colourless

Male American Wigeon

We dined here on our last night in Venice. Very expensive but also very good.

 

"Souvenir, souvenir, que me veux-tu ? L'automne

Faisait voler la grive à travers l'air atone,

Et le soleil dardait un rayon monotone

Sur le bois jaunissant où la bise détone. »…

 

"Memory, memory, what do you want of me? Autumn

Makes the thrush fly through colourless air,

And the sun casts its monotonous glare

On the yellowing woods where the north winds hum. »…

 

Paul Verlaine, French poet (1844-1896)

 

#FlickrFriday

#504

#Nevermore

One of 8 such statues (1887) at the base of the Monument to Columbus.

A mushroom growing in a field.

Blue Ice (Glacial)

occurs when snow falls on a glacier, is compressed, and becomes part of the glacier. Air bubbles are squeezed out and ice crystals enlarge, making the ice appear blue.

 

Small amounts of regular ice appear to be white because of air bubbles inside them and also because small quantities of water appear to be colourless. In glaciers, the pressure causes the air bubbles to be squeezed out increasing the density of the created ice. Large quantities of water appear to be blue, as it absorbs other colours more efficiently than blue. Therefore, a large piece of compressed ice, or a glacier, would appear blue.

Tooley's Boatyard s a scheduled Ancient Monument!

 

Tooley's was established in 1778 and is the oldest continuous working dry dock in Britain. It was established to build and repair the wooden horse-drawn narrow boats which regularly travelled up and down the newly constructed Oxford Canal network which was completed in 1790 and was vital to the development of the Industrial Revolution in Banbury.

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catch me if you can

 

broken wings are flying

as far as you can see

shaped as an angel

crying out my name

saying:

come on and fly with us

 

☀ ڿڰۣ—

 

warm blue eyes are starring

asking me to follow

for completing heavens door

and for fighting the rights

which are not completed yet

 

☀ ڿڰۣ—

 

colourless, lean fingers

refering and showing at me

black claws to catch

laughing so deformed

not really knowing what they seem

 

☀ ڿڰۣ—

 

feeling afraid and ignorant

lost and hopeless

I’m searching a path

but I can’t escape anyway

while I’m starting to run

they catch me and my soul

 

☀ ڿڰۣ—

 

Come On And Fly With Us

 

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Fate is playing a big part in my fortunes regarding this wood. I’ve fallen in love with the place and I had planned a year long project here. Starting November 2020 I decided to go each month throughout the year. I probably got my best visit on the last day of the year 2020. Snow had been forecast but didn’t arrive, still it was sub zero and the wood was covered in thick frost. I was excited for the year to come, then it started LOCKDOWN II. I like most bided by the rules, so I missed January, February and March, during a time of super weather, snow. My wood would have looked great, I got so frustrated to see some other togs travelling out to take great photos. My feelings were unbecoming, feeling bitter of people who obviously had a different outlook to mine, thinking they’d cause no harm, but I still think it was selfish. April came and the end of lockdown and I rushed to my wood at the first chance, a colourless winter still had it’s grip on the woods, so I explored and discovered. From then on I’ve enjoyed a lovely spring, summer (apart from the midge) and autumn, but then Arwen hits, and it would seem my ventures to the wood have been curtailed again. It’s a week now and poor people are still suffering great hardship because of the devastation, so I should not moan about my fate on getting to this wood. However I do fear the damage done to the wood by this storm, in my 65 years I’ve never know a storm like it, is the same true for the oaks who’ve seen hundreds of years. I fear because of climate change it's probably true. It’s touch and go now whether I get to my wood again this year, forestry England have said these forests are no go areas, but I’m desperate to see the wood whether to either confirm or relieve my anxieties. This is a photo from my last visit at the end of October, was this Ballerinas last dance with me.

Construction began in 1087 and was completed and consecrated in 1133.

Well staying local again, I visited the canal at dawn and again later at dusk. The sunrise was pretty colourless despite a favourable forecast but the textures were great in the sky and in the reflections in the still waters of the canal.

 

I took this on a narrow hump back bridge to get a bit of elevation to get a shot down the towpath and show the canal leading off into the distance. The shots later at sunrise were much more colourful.

Modern times have arrived. But life still is slower, less anonymous. In Germany, small villages like this usually look colourless and boring. In Italy, they are just lovely.

What's a photographer gonna' do?

 

It's autumn, the garden is colourless, but ohooo, add the last sunray of the day, a potted plant with the audacity to continue to bloom despite the chill in the air and - game changer - a mister...

 

And yes, I have seen (and like) the 1971 film, Play Misty For Me, starring Clint Eastwood. It's a psychological thriller (and dated) but after seeing it you'll never hear the word "misty" and not think of the film.

The sad remains of Horeb Baptist Chapel, Cwmdwr near Llandovery. Built in 1820 it was practically rebuilt in 1905. Closed by the mid 20th century it has been in ruins for many decades. Despite being a staunch Anglican a frequent visitor to the chapel was David Owen (Brutus, 1795-1886), the well known satirist of nearby Halfway. It is sad to think that nobody comes any more to Horeb to put flowers on the graves of loved ones.

 

Ref:- www.geograph.org.uk/photo/3106440

I composed this image while hiking the Whiterock Trail in Utah's Snow Canyon State Park. Surrounded by massive dunes of various strong colours - and mostly red - the occasional white massive rock formation stands out, as pictured here.

 

What happens to make normally red Navajo Sandstone white? Sandstone is porous and permeable to water because there are spaces between the sand grains. Under certain circumstances, the iron pigment in red sandstone can dissolve in water and be removed, or be rendered colourless by chemical reactions in the water. Voila! White dunes. It's no surprise, then, that the hiking path toward these dunes is named "Whiterock Trail."

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