View allAll Photos Tagged conspire
Adorning myself in the Irene Outfit by Just BECAUSE, I feel as though history and modern artistry have conspired to embrace my form in elegance. The silhouette is long and flowing, a column of femininity that lengthens my body with grace, while the corseted midsection—delicate, daring, and irresistibly alluring—cinches me into a shape both sensual and timeless. The off-shoulder neckline whispers of romance, a design detail once celebrated by couturiers such as Dior and Valentino, now reimagined for today’s modern muse.
The cut of the Irene is deliberate yet fluid: its bodice clings softly before surrendering to a languid skirt that falls like liquid silk to the floor. Each seam is a promise of refinement, each curve a devotion to the woman within. The delicate corset overlay, at times sheer and flirtatious with intricate patterning, creates a harmony of structure and softness—an ode to the golden age of fashion when the female form was sculpted yet free.
This creation is not just a dress but a versatile ensemble, for the Irene Outfit offers a Top, Skirt, and Heels, each element elevated by its own HUD. The Top HUD allows playful freedom with colors and finishes, the Skirt HUD provides rich palettes that breathe new moods into the look, while the Heels HUD completes the ensemble with coordinating tones, letting me glide in seamless harmony from daylight into the mystery of evening.
Fitted with care for Maitreya LaraX, Legacy, Perky, Reborn, and Waifu mesh bodies, the Irene embraces every woman uniquely, celebrating curves with a design that flatters and seduces in equal measure.
As I wear it, I feel the whispers of fashion’s great storytellers—Chanel’s devotion to liberated silhouettes, Yves Saint Laurent’s bold romanticism, and Versace’s unapologetic sensuality—woven into the fabric of this modern gown. It is as much a piece of fashion history as it is a contemporary treasure.
Acquire this exquisite creation at the Just BECAUSE Mainstore, where beauty and sophistication live eternally:
🌐 [Just BECAUSE Mainstore]
♫
What if the whole reason that we're here is so we can dive into our fears?
What if all the demons in our lives only wanna open up our minds?
You ever heard the word Pronoia?
It's the opposite of paranoia, pronoia
The belief that the world conspires in your favor
Honey it's a game changer
It's a cherry lifesaver
So sweet
Can't seem to stay away ~
Find me @ HELLVEGEN!
A bird very much on my photographic wish list is the Great Northern Diver.
This is my best attempt yet. However poor light a rocking boat and distance once again conspired against me.
Th GND is the UK's largest diver and a regular though distant sighting for me. Perhaps 2019 will be my year.
Great Northern Diver aka Common Loon - Gavia Immer
Kerrera - Scotland
As always I extend my sincere thanks to all those who follow my photography and trust you will be kind with this one ;).
During my road trip upt north i spent a few days with my old chum Richard ( known as Richie B on flickr ) and his lovely wife Caroline. We spent a day chasing a couple of RHTT workings but the weather conspired against us and our pre planned shot at Wigton was conducted in Cumbrian gloom and drizzle. Fortunately i had another bite of the cherry the following day in much more favourable weather.
This shot was taken in Harrington and shows 70809 with 70806 on the rear working the 3J11 1100 Carlisle New Yard to Carlisle New Yard via Whitehaven. Due to the closure of Whitehave tunnel for essential repairs the RHTT reversed giving me two attempts at bagging a shot of the working.
The moon and work schedule conspired to keep me from losing my usual night or 2 of sleep during my favorite meteor shower (Perseids). This was my consolation, a visit to my second favorite tree snag a couple of weeks ago. The clouds are lit up by Boulder-Denver city lights. The other lights in the sky are the result of nuclear fusion.
Remember the thousand points of light speech (a plea for volunteerism)?… wow how I actually miss Republicans like HW….
In the meadow we can build a snowman
And pretend that he's a circus clown
We'll have lots of fun with Mr. Snowman
Yes, until the other kiddies knock him down
Later on we'll conspire
As we dream sittin' by the fire
To face unafraid all the plans that we've made
Walking in a winter wonderland
Walking in a winter wonderland
One of the sadnesses of the lockdown measures during the COVID-19 pandemic is that there is so little movement from place to place. Having spent the last year in Woodstock, Oxfordshire, I anticipated seeing very much more of the area. Instead, I have remained largely in one place, my contribution to not spreading the virus; that, and a heavy workload have meant that I have seen less of the world than I intended this year.
The silver lining to that cloud is that one sees so very many shades of one place. One sees things anew, even as they seem to pall. It reminds me of a photographer I read of once, I forget the name, who had spent much of his life photographing a nearby beach in numerous seasons, finding subtleties that others might miss. There is a venerability and wisdom in it which is appealing in a world that normally moves far too much.
Here is a bridge, seen most days for the last nine months, half shrouded in mist one recent morning. I am not sure that I matched the medium and the subject. Rollei Superpan 200 is, I discovered belatedly, effectively an aerial photography film; developed in stock ID-11 (around 9'30, with frequent agitation, as I could find no precise information on this pairing), the film is one of very strong contrasts and precise detail. My initial excitement at such stark negatives wavered when I realised how many images had been rather marred by camera shake - a combination of shorter days, a slower film speed, the near-weightlessness of the Zeiss Ikon Nettar, and a deep press of the shutter button had conspired to defeat me.
This one, however, was salvageable. Originally 6x6, the unbroken grey of the sky and the less than interesting grass have been cropped out to give a greater prominence to the lake, bridge, and reflections.
Zeiss Ikon Nettar, Rollei Superpan 200, ID-11 stock. Cropping and reduction of contrast in Photoshop.
If you like my photographs, why not consider buying a print at captures.life? I haven't yet finished building the site and putting in all of the terms and conditions and policies, but the bits that involve buying a print, having it delivered, and contacting me if anything isn't working or goes wrong are functioning just fine...
Aspens, Autumn Snow. © Copyright 2022 G Dan Mitchell.
A morning snow squall above a grove of autumn aspen trees, Sierra Nevada.
Since it is now July, it seems about time to start dreaming of autumn color, right? I always start thinking of fall color at about this point in summer. I’m not sure if this is a reaction against the hot weather season or just my natural inclination to always feel that my favorite season is the one that is coming next. On a ninety-degree here in my (relatively cool!) part of California, I have to say that these conditions look pretty appealing right about now!
If I recall correctly, I made this photograph on a morning when it seemed that the conditions were conspiring against me. I had arrived here very early, well before sunrise, and in the faint light I could see that the aspens were thick with colorful leaves. As I started to prepare in the near-darkness a sudden squall swept through — the wind suddenly picked up, the temperature dropped, it began snowing, and I retreated to my vehicle. As it began to clear I realized that perhaps half of the leaves had blown of the trees, but the new dusting of snow on the ridge was compensation.
G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist. His book, “California’s Fall Color: A Photographer’s Guide to Autumn in the Sierra” is available from Heyday Books, Amazon, and directly from G Dan Mitchell.
Inspired by my favourite artist of all time!!! <3
Once there was a child and he was free
Deep inside, he felt the laughter
The mirth and play of nature's glee
Beauty, love was all he'd see
He knew his power was the power of God
He was so sure, they considered him odd
This power of innocence, of compassion, of light
Threatened the priests and created a fight
In endless ways they sought to dismantle
This mysteroius force which they could not handle
In endless ways they tried to destroy
His simple trust, his boundless joy
His invincible armor was a shield of bliss
Nothing could touch it, no venom, no hiss
The child remained in a state of grace
He wasn't confined in time or place
In Technicolor dreams, he frolicked and played
While acting his part, in Eternity he stayed
Soothsayers came and fortunes were told
Some were vehement, others were bold
In denouncing this child, this perplexing creature
With the rest of the world he shared no feature
IS he real?He is so strange
His unpredictable nature knows no range
He puzzles us so, is he straight?
What's his destiny?What's his fate?
And while they whispered and conspired
Through endless rumors to get him tired
To kill his wonder, trample him near
Burn his courage, fuel his fear
The child remained just simpel, sincere
All he wanted was the mountain high
Color the clouds, paint the sky
Beyond these boundaries, he wanted to fly
In nature's scheme, never to die
Don't stop this child, he's the father of man
Don't cross his way, he's part of the plan
I am that child, but so are you
You've just forgotten, just lost the clue
Inside your heart sits a Seer
Between his thoughts, he can hear
A melody simple but wondrously clear
The music of life, so precious, so dear
If you could for one moment know
This spark of creation, this exquisite glow
You would come and dance with me
Kindle this fire so we could see
All the children of the Earth
Wave their magic and give new birth
To a world of freedom with no pain
A world of joy, much more sane
Deep inside, you know it's true
Just find that child, it's hiding in you.
*Michael Jackson (Magical Child)
Nothing good will come of this. Rated R. Starts Friday. Check local listings for theaters and times…
Have a Blessed Winter Solstice , Festive season and New Year-
from the Imaginary Winterwolfs
www.youtube.com/watch?v=pGeclAFSMC4
“Blessed is the beautiful season which conspires the world in love…."
BJORK Pagan Poetry Instrumental
Image made in midjourney (no edits)
Like a fading flower,
Fragile, wilting in its vase,
It seemed time and life conspired
To take the color from her face
Where went the cherries from her lips,
And the apples from her cheeks?
And whence the sparkle from her eyes,
And the music from her speech?
🌸 Rachel Dress by Newphe — A Moonlit Courtship Beneath the Trees 🌸
The night air shimmered with a soft, golden hush, the kind that only autumn evenings at my parents’ retreat can hold. The table was dressed in linen and candlelight, set beneath a canopy of whispering branches. I could hear the gentle rustle of the leaves, the rhythm of the crickets, and—between all of it—his voice, low and warm, filling the silence with unspoken desire.
Tonight, I wore Rachel — the breathtakingly sensual new creation by Newphe — and every moment felt like a scene stolen from a love story I didn’t want to end.
💗 The Silhouette & Cut
Rachel embraces my curves in a seamless sheath of ribbed knit fabric that feels like a second skin. The off-the-shoulder neckline exposes just enough collarbone to make him lean in closer, while the long sleeves slip softly down my arms, hinting at vulnerability and promise. Its body-con silhouette sculpts every line of the feminine form — that fine balance between grace and seduction that defines the art of modern allure.
✨ Styling & Intimate Details
The vertical ribbing elongates the figure, drawing the eye upward and inward, a visual symphony of texture and light. It is minimalism made sensual — every contour intentional, every seam whispering intimacy. The fabric stretches with effortless ease, moving with my body as I stand beneath the stars, his eyes following every subtle sway.
🌹 Fashion Heritage
This look traces its lineage back to the sultry off-shoulder designs of the late 1950s — that moment when elegance first dared to flirt with rebellion. Think Bardot in Saint-Tropez, Marilyn in Rome — yet Rachel redefines it for now, with a contemporary sculptural edge that honors femininity as both soft and powerful.
🎨 HUD & Color Options
Newphe’s color HUD offers a captivating palette — from playful pastels and creamy blush tones to deep jewel shades and classic neutrals. Each hue transforms the mood: powder pink for flirtation, crimson for passion, graphite for quiet confidence, and ivory for the woman who knows she doesn’t need to try too hard.
As he reached across the table, our fingers brushed. The candles flickered, and I realized — the real magic of Rachel isn’t just how it looks, but how it feels: unapologetically feminine, daringly elegant, and intoxicatingly alive.
💫 Rachel Dress — by Newphe
Available for Legacy, Perky, Bombshell, LaraX, PetiteX, Reborn, and Waifu mesh bodies.
✨ Acquire it here: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Maribella/80/216/2288
“Some nights, the stars don’t just shine — they conspire.”
You'll always want nature to conspire in your favour. And why should you not? The best of magics are created when nature winks and smiles at you.
And now, more than ever, you'll want to maintain distance with everyone else around you.
And what else can fulfill the two conditions than a perch on a hilltop bereft of crowd?
Taken @ Nelipot.
“Fall has always been my favorite season. The time when everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature had been saving up all year for the grand finale.” ― Lauren DeStefano, Wither
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
Where are the songs of spring? Ay, Where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
- John Keats, To Autumn (1819)
Excerpt from www.atlasobscura.com/places/smedenpoort-skull:
The medieval Smedenpoort, or “Blacksmith’s Gate,” dates back to 1297, and is one of the four remaining city gates of Bruges. Look closely at the upper lefthand corner above the arch and you’ll notice a morbid curiosity: A bronzed human skull is affixed to the gate’s yellow brick facade.
It is a replica of the skull of an executed traitorous statesman whose head was prominently displayed as a warning to the people. In 1691, hostile French troops had gathered near Bruges but could not infiltrate the city’s ramparts. They conspired with Belgian statesman François van der Straeten to enter the city through the Smedenpoort.
Unfortunately for the conspirators, the plot was discovered and relayed to the city council. François van der Straeten was arrested on June 26, 1691, and hanged. His head was dipped in bronze and then hung from an iron pin on the gate as exemplum justitiae.
The skull disappeared during the French Revolution and was rediscovered in 1876. The remnants of the original skull are housed in the Archaeological Museum in Bruges, and a bronze replica now hangs on the Smedenpoort.
San Juan de Luz B&W street series
None of my photos are HDR or blended images, they are taken from just one shot
San Juan de Luz (France)
Sony A900 + Carl Zeiss24-70mm + Cokin filter : X121S
Please don't use this image on websites, blogs or other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved
Highest position in Explore: #213
Leona Lewis - Run
www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqpAgMxhx30
"There existed this impeccable heat
in the heart of your existence
an endlessly combustible faction upon faction
in continuous friction – a war of sorts:
You against the world; you against them;
you against everything that conspired to put you down.
You burned. You were a flame. You were an inferno.
And the universe loved that; I loved that;
I looked to you for light and warmth
I saw wild forests of chaos give in,
consumed fuel for days. Hearty. Earthy.
Fucking constant unapologetic living.
But something got to you,
the world in its cold disapproval
put a damper on your spirit.
Inside out the fires have become embers
dying out slowly and all you have to say is:
“I’m fine.”
…sometimes, often times, most times …you just stop me in my tracks."
infamouslyroggy.tumblr.com/post/133601499538/there-existe...
Blog Post
sllorinovo.blogspot.com/2017/01/stormwood-medieval-fantas...
© Leanne Boulton, All Rights Reserved
Street photography from Glasgow, Scotland.
Colour re-edit of a shot from January 2018.
Happy to report that I escaped unscathed from Storm Jocelyn too. I had planned to go down to the beach today to capture some of the post-Isha/Jocelyn impact but I am in agony with back pain again after the most innocuous of actions. It seems the stars are conspiring against me picking my camera up for the second time this month. I will not be deterred.
Take care everyone.
Strong waves from storms far out in the Pacific Ocean bash against the rocks at Bodega Head. Time, tide, tectonic forces, and weather all conspire to reshape this vulnerable place.
The space,
fluid and dynamic,
where water and earth
conspire
to rearrange each other
intimately, lovingly?, cooperatively
in their separate powers
wielded like hand-holding adventures
and affairs.
One cradles.
One caresses.
Water crawls and scoops
Collecting
not only itself
but earth, too,
scattering what it devours
within its own
concealed body
of blood particles
while inscribing the jacket
of its co-authored text.
Land restrains.
It doesn’t tolerate
freedom
in form or function
giving arc to a narrative
told,
unfolded,
spun and scattered
by ebb and flow
inhale and exhale
of earth’s
praxis
not co-opted
by theories
of economy.
Far away
This ship has taken me far away
Far away from the memories
Of the people who care if I live or die
Starlight
I will be chasing a starlight
Until the end of my life
I don't know if it's worth it anymore
Hold you in my arms
I just wanted to hold
You in my arms
My life
You electrify my life
Lets conspire to ignite
All the souls that would die
Just to feel alive
I'll never let you go
If you promise not to fade away
Never fade away
Our hopes and expectations
Black holes and revelations
Our hopes and expectations
Black holes and revelations
Hold you in my arms
I just wanted to hold
You in my arms
Far away
The ship has taken me far away
Far away from the memories
Of the people who care if I live or die
And I'll never let you go
If you promise not to fade away
Never fade away
Our hopes and expectations
Black holes and revelations, yeah
Our hopes and expectations
Black holes and revelations
Hold you in my arms
I just wanted to hold
You in my arms
I just wanted to hold
We asked nothing of the Colossum except acceptance...that something which has lurked in our sunconsciousness for as long as we could remember would accept our souls into the architecture of it's daily reality.
When history confirms our existence, we feel more real. We can conquer those who conspire against us, even minotaurs who might eat us alive in public. (Because the minotaurs are all around us and they have become quite hungry.)
Our collective consciousness is a dense and intuitive thing. The infrastrucutre alone would save the world if we only join hands together and confront the illusion of our daydreams and nightmares.
**All photos are copyrighted. Please don't use without permission**
So, the least likely thing I expected for this project has, in fact, happened. I finished. It took 15 months - two dead cameras, one stolen, and various life events conspired to draw this out. Whatever.
I learned a little about photography, and I learned a lot about paying attention. This last was my primary goal, and I'm satisfied that I came away with a heightened awareness of the world around me. And in the course of it all, I managed to take a few self-portraits I don't actually hate :-)
But mostly, I've learned about you. I've met people from all over the world, seen their art, tasted their culture, and experienced their generosity and friendship. I can't possibly express how meaningful this year has been to me.
Thank you, all of you, for the comments, encouragement, suggestions and laughter. For caring.
I'll be spending my flickr time in the near future catching up with your streams. I have so much yet to see, and I want to see it all! :-)
Preston
Smedenpoort (Blacksmith’s Gate) in the Ezelstraat Quarter in northern Bruges, Flanders, Belgium.
The original gateway dates from 1297-1299 and the current gate was built on the remains of the old one in 1367. Throughout the centuries the gate has undergone many changes and restorations.
The sculptured bronze skull above the left passage is a replica of the skull of executed traitorous statesman François Vander Straeten as a warning to the people. In 1691, hostile French troops had gathered near Bruges but could not infiltrate the city’s ramparts. They conspired with Belgian statesman François van der Straeten to enter the city through the Smedenpoort.
The plot was discovered and relayed to the city council, Straeten was arrested and hanged. His head was dipped in bronze and then hung from an iron pin on the gate as exemplum justitiae.
The skull disappeared during the French Revolution and was rediscovered in 1876. The remnants of the original skull are housed in the Archaeological Museum in Bruges, and a bronze replica now hangs on the Smedenpoort.
Information Source:
When winter's gloom, domestic demands, and a general lack of inspiration conspire against me, I find solace in the miniature world of macro photography. This session involved a glass photo ball, textured corrugated paper, and vibrant light cubes. And, admittedly, a beer to fuel the creative process. It's a sanctuary where I can escape and rediscover my passion."
No AI, or cloning.
The wind and rain have conspired together to create fantastical rock formations in the New Mexico desert. Strange rock creatures surround the Alien Throne.
A rare summer outing for me in the Luss Hills.
This arresting moment couldn't be ignored. In fact it had me spellbound for an indeterminate length of time - as the featured sinister bank of cloud encroached onto the Cobbler's iconic skyline, seemingly trying to suffocate it in the process.
I often marvel at just how localised weather can be in hill / mountain country.
Many a higher protuberance remained totally free of any 'cloud attack' that morning, whilst a number of lower hills succumbed to various clumps floating around. Local wind gusts combined with varying levels of humidity obviously conspire to confound simpletons like myself!
Macro Mondays theme: Fill the Frame
Fate conspired to deliver the cauliflower on the day it was assigned because my other half saw a picture of roasted cauliflower and drooled. Just as well as ALL of the outside plants were well on the way to dead. The picture is a bit boring but the roasted cauliflower was delicious. Must do it again soon.
HMM
I am reminded of Shania Twain's Forever And For Always. Spotted at Colva beach, Goa. Stay blessed !
© All rights reserved, don´t use this image without my permission. Contact me at debmalya86@gmail.com
The ship is taking me far away
Far away from the memories
Of the people who care if I live or die
The starlight
I will be chasing a starlight
Until the end of my life
I don't know if it's worth it anymore
Hold you in my arms
I just wanted to hold
You in my arms
My life
You electrify my life
Let's conspire to ignite
All the souls that would die just to feel alive
Now I'll never let you go
If you promised not to fade away
Never fade away
Our hopes and expectations
Black holes and revelations
Our hopes and expectations
Black holes and revelations
Hold you in my arms
I just wanted to hold
You in my arms
Far away
The ship is taking me far away
Far away from the memories
Of the people who care if I live or die
And I'll never let you go
If you promise not to fade away
Never fade away
Our hopes and expectations
Black holes and revelations
Our hopes and expectations
Black holes and revelations
Hold you in my arms
I just wanted to hold
You in my arms
I just wanted to hold
When we are sad and encounter a lack of understanding, when we have the feeling that the whole world, every thing has conspired against us, then we feel it, we feel sadness and an indescribable emptiness within us. Our heart no longer seems to want to beat in time, it seems that we are hopeless and we can no longer find a way out of this state. And when we read all this good advice and the world wants to tell us that everything will be fine, what do we do? We don't believe! We don't believe that everything will get better, do we? Each of us has been in a situation like this before, perhaps several times, and each time we don't believe that it will get better, even though we have got up again and again, even though we have told ourselves again and again that life must go on. But why don't we believe it when we are in a situation that throws our lives off course? Is it sadness that slows us down? Is it the emptiness that holds us back? Or is it because we have foreseen these situations that we will end up in the same situation as before? What is it that makes us grieve, what makes us suffer emotional pain? Maybe it's compassion, maybe it's your heart that breaks, maybe it's the longing for perfection, or maybe it's you who can change everything. Only you know the answer! Listen to yourself, listen to your inner voice, because it knows exactly what to do!
April 19 2015; New York JFK. Unfortunately increasing clouds, fading light and too much APU exhaust conspired against me for a decent shot. Hopefully, it will be back soon!
Uppity, bestial riffraff like Mr. Brown Pelican always lie. Even an occasional truth is intended only to cover up a bigger falsification and is therefore, itself, a deliberate untruth. Oddly enough, his jokes are illiberal in their impact, surly in their aspirations, hidebound in their political deviousness, and impertinent in their shrewish philosophies. Stranger still, you can see where this is going. An obvious parallel from a different context is that whenever Mr. Pelican announces that war is peace, freedom is slavery, and ignorance is strength, his myrmidons applaud on cue and the accolades are long and ostentatious.
2019-09-02, Day 1
Crow Lake catches noon-day sun beneath towering cliffs that reach up to a high-elevation plateau, Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness, Montana.
At this point we had been hiking for almost 4 hours on our first day and the terrain conspired to teach us in no uncertain terms that we had severely underestimated its ruggedness. In a fit of questionable planning, the point where I stand is the end of the established trail in this direction, and also where we decided it would be a good idea to chart our own middle-aged course through the forest, up the drainage, and over an unnamed pass to the south. The benefits we anticipated included a general lack of company, spectacular scenery, and a considerable short-cut compared to the route the trail followed.
As the forest to the left of the frame suggests, it is healthy and full of interlocking branches and downed logs. As one might imagine, travel through its fastness is only grudgingly allowed. As I inspect my pack some months later, I am still finding needles lodged in every crevice. Fortunately, it is difficult to truly get lost in terrain like this, as the drainage provides a sort of topographic braille through which we felt our way ever upward away from the lake and toward the treeless heights. The final approach to the pass was steep, probably around 35 degrees, and we paused occasionally for breath and to feel the body humming perceptibly with exertion. Yes, next time more care will be taken in the physical preparation department...
A somewhat epic failure. I knew the sunrise time and I fiddled around and did not get started early enough. Driving on US218 by this lake I saw the sunrise scene I wanted!! After exiting and driving 2 miles on 25mph park road (at 50mph) I got a much hotter version of what I wanted. I never did see the train that I heard and heard on the scanner. Seen at George Wyth Memorial State Park on a cold morning in mid October. I think this was the first frost that NE Iowa experienced. The cold air temps and the relatively warm lake waters conspired to produce plumes of fog off the lake that morning.
Upon the shore, where shadows blend,
He writes, a tale he cannot mend.
His voice, a thread spun on the tide,
Revealing love he cannot hide.
She listens close, beyond his gaze,
A phantom born of twilight’s haze.
Her heart, the sunset’s burning hue,
A secret flame he never knew.
The ocean breathes, a steady song,
With his desire to sing along.
For her, the woman of his dreams,
A mystery bathed in golden beams.
He wonders if the stars conspire,
To set his heart on endless fire.
Yet in the veil of clouds' embrace,
She watches with a hidden face.
Each word he speaks, it finds its mark,
A quiet echo in her heart.
And though apart, they stand the same,
Two lives bound by a whispered flame.
The beach grows dim, the stars appear,
But she remains, in silence near.
A fleeting moment, worlds apart,
Bound by the rhythm, of a beating heart.
Lost
I decided that my first trip out in September would be back to Chrome Hill. A location I had visited several times before, but always ended up disappointed. As I entered the Dove Valley the low lying mist was thick, so I thought I was in for a treat. However (as so often is the case), by the time the car was parked, and I had walked the 25minutes or so to my intended viewpoint, most of the mist had retreated.
About 20mins after sunrise a thick fog rolled in from behind us, almost completely obscuring Parkhouse Hill. This photograph was taken just as the fog cleared, revealing a bit of blue sky as it did.
Nice to bump into a couple of photographers on the hill, who worked hard to keep spirits up when it looked like the elements had conspired against us
A curse going back well over a decade was finally broken this past Friday in St. Augustine. I'd never managed to catch a Champion painted SD-40 leading in good light. The fates had always conspired to not work in my favor on multiple attempts over several years. Finally, my daughthers 16th birthday was the good luck charm I needed for 204 to break the streak.
Most landscape photographers know what it takes to find yourself in the right place at the right time capturing and seeing something unique that no one else has seen, or ever will. Those moments of our life that pass by, sometimes we don’t capture them, and they become memories, associations… These moments in my life are what led me to landscape photography, and they are why I share with you. Some people will never get to experience or see these fantastic moments. Or have never been inspired to seek or see them in person. Well, let moments like this be testimony that rising before the sun graces us, or staying up late into the night to see what nature will show, can be extremely rewarding. But also know, like life, the journey of the photographer includes countless moments and struggles which will never be seen, and which can push any person to their limits. Solitude, wind, cold, heat, sleep deprivation, exhaustion, and many other human feelings often conspire and encroach on our abilities to succeed and reach further; to really achieve our potential takes great determination.