View allAll Photos Tagged continuous
Program:Manual
Lens:24-70mm f/2.8 G VR
F:11.0
Speed:1/20
ISO:80
Focal Length:24 mm
Focus Mode:Manual
Shooting Mode:Continuous, Exposure Bracketing, Auto ISO
VR:Off
WB:Auto0
Picture Control:Auto
Focus Distance:11.89 m
Dof:inf (1.52 m - inf)
HyperFocal:1.74 m
Set: www.flickr.com/photos/benledbetter-architect/sets/7215759...
In The British Museum
Leica M6, Tri-X
Program:Manual
Lens:12-28mm f/4 G
F:11.0
Speed:139.4
ISO:100
Focal Length:12.0 mm (35 mm equivalent 18.0 mm)
Focus Mode:Manual
Shooting Mode:Continuous, [3], IR Control
VR:Off
EV:-1/3
Metering Mode:Multi-segment
WB:Auto1
Focus Distance:3.98 m
Dof:inf (0.56 m - inf)
HyperFocal:0.65 m
Continuous as the stars that shine . . . . . . . . .
They stretched in never-ending line
William Wordsworth
Saltram House is a George II era mansion located in Plympton, Plymouth. In 1957, it became a property of the National Trust, who operate it under the name "Saltram".
Saltram House was used as one of several local settings for the 1995 film Sense and Sensibility.
A pair of former LMX lease GE's has been put to use on the last remaining operating Ohio Central coaltrain set. The 8530 and 8511 are on the east end of the train, and led the Empty Cadiz coaltrain (ECD) east from Coshocton to Cadiz Jct on the evening of August 14, 2017. This view is from the Route 151 overpass between Scio and Jewett. Continuous welded rail has begun being laid across the entire 13-mile joint line from Bowerston to Jewett.
This 54-car train runs to Cadiz on Mondays and Wednesdays, and down to Burr Oak on Tuesdays and Thursdays. All of the coal goes to the AEP plant in Coshocton, where the cars are unloaded by an overhead backhoe.
Program:Manual
Lens:24-70mm f/2.8 G VR
F:6.3
Speed:30
ISO:400
Focal Length:34.0 mm (35 mm equivalent 51.0 mm)
Focus Mode:Manual
Shooting Mode:Continuous, IR Control
VR:Off
EV:-1/3
Metering Mode:Multi-segment
WB:Auto1
Focus Distance:14.13 m
Dof:inf (5.56 m - inf)
HyperFocal:9.16 m
AF Fine Tune:+11
... after continuous swimming for about 15 minutes,
the hungry jaguar was thinking about what he should do next.
Part 23 of a series of pictures of the hard job of a Jaguar, trying to get his breakfast ...
If you want to see the previous pictures of that little story in chronological order, have a look at my Jaguar Morning-Album.
It is not so easy to get a good picture of this special moment despite high continuous shooting speed. Last year I was able to observe the moment only once and immediately had a nice picture - unfortunately in extremely poor light conditions. I thought: If only I have better light, I'll take a better picture. I could hardly be more wrong! I deleted hundreds of shots.
Der Eisvogel steigt wieder aus dem Wasser empor.
Es ist trotz hoher Serienbildgeschwindigkeit gar nicht so einfach ein gutes Bild von diesem besonderen Moment zu erwischen. Letztes Jahr konnte ich den Moment nur einmal beobachten und hatte gleich ein schönes Bild - leider bei äußerst schlechten Lichtverhätnissen. Ich dachte: Wenn ich nur besseres Licht habe, mache ich auch ein besseres Bild. Pustekuchen! Ich habe hunderte Aufnahmen gelöscht.
Ethical tagging:
- free-living animals.
- wild lebende Tiere.
China, Beijing, Galaxy Soho, another super 18 floors complex built between 2008 & 2014, located in the southwest corner of Chaoyangmen Bridge in the Second Ring Road of Beijing, designed by London architecture firm & designed by the renown Iraqi-British architect Zaha Hadid
The Galaxy Soho is a 330 000 m2 office, retail & entertainment complex that which became a primary part of the living city. Its architecture is a composition of comprises four main domed structures, fused together by bridges & platforms between curving floor plates to create a fluid environment that surrounds a series of public courtyards & a larger central "canyon". Adapt to each other in all directions, generating a panoramic architecture without corners or abrupt transitions that break the fluidity of its formal composition. Creating a striking, modern & eye catching aesthetic, the Galaxy Soho is established as one more major urban landmark for Beijing.
From the outside the flowing bands of white aluminium & glass encasing the interior give the complex an incredible, eye-catching presence. Within the building this image is continued with a block of white floor that matches the walls & ceilings. A complimentary grey floor area borders the bright white centre with a visually striking black stripe separating the two colours. The great interior courts of the project are a reflection of traditional Chinese architecture where courtyards create an internal world of continuous open spaces.
The structure’s three lower levels contain retail & entertainment facilities, those above provide works spaces for innovative businesses of many kinds, while top levels are dedicated to bars, restaurants & cafes, many with views along the city’s great avenues.
The Galaxy Soho demonstrates ones more that the Chinese always manage to produce some of the most amazing, creative, visionary & environmental friendly new buildings, where money & labour is not an issue, for architects getting such projects it is like winning an architectural "Oscar-Grammy-Emmy Award".
👉 One World one Dream,
🙏...Danke, Xièxie 谢谢, Thanks, Gracias, Merci, Grazie, Obrigado, Arigatô, Dhanyavad, Chokrane to you & over
14 million visits in my photostream with countless motivating comments
Wimpole has been continuously occupied for at least 2,000 years with evidence from Roman, Anglo-Saxon and medieval times. It has been owned by a number of different families. The earliest maps show a four-gabled manor house surrounded by a moat.
Captain and Mrs George Bambridge first rented Wimpole in 1937 and had bought it by 1942.
The house was largely empty of contents, so they set out buying pictures and furniture to fill the house. During the war the household moved into the basements. The house itself was not requisitioned by the War Office due to lack of mains electricity and the primitive drainage and water supply.
Captain Bambridge died in 1943 as a result of a chill caught whilst out shooting. Elsie Bambridge was the only surviving child of Rudyard Kipling. She was able to use the substantial royalties from his books to refurbish the house.
Mrs Bambridge bequeathed the house to the National Trust on her death aged 80 in 1976.
Matera is a city and the capital of the Province of Matera in the region of Basilicata, in Southern Italy. With a history of continuous occupation dating back to the Palaeolithic (10th millennium BC), it is renowned for its rock-cut urban core, whose twin cliffside zones are known collectively as the Sassi.
Matera lies on the right bank of the Gravina river, whose canyon forms a geological boundary between the hill country of Basilicata to the south-west and the Murgia plateau of Apulia to the north-east. The city began as a complex of cave habitations excavated in the softer limestone on the gorge's western, Lucanian face. It took advantage of two streams which flow into the ravine from a spot near the Castello Tramontano, reducing the cliff's angle of drop and leaving a defensible narrow promontory in between. The central high ground, or acropolis, supporting the city's cathedral and administrative buildings, came to be known as Civita, and the settlement districts scaling down and burrowing into the sheer rock faces as the Sassi. Of the two streambeds, called the grabiglioni, the northern hosts Sasso Barisano and the southern Sasso Caveoso.
The Sassi consist of around twelve levels spanning the height of 380 m, connected by a network of paths, stairways, and courtyards (vicinati). The medieval city clinging on to the edge of the canyon for its defence is invisible from the western approach. The tripartite urban structure of Civita and the two Sassi, relatively isolated from each other, survived until the 16th century, when the centre of public life moved outside the walls to the Piazza Sedile in the open plain (the Piano) to the west, followed by the shift of the elite residences to the Piano from the 17th century onwards. By the end of the 18th century, a physical class boundary separated the overcrowded Sassi of the peasants from the new spatial order of their social superiors in the Piano, and geographical elevation came to coincide with status more overtly than before, to the point where the two communities no longer interacted socially.
Yet it was only at the turn of the 20th century that the Sassi were declared unfit for modern habitation, and the government relocation of all their inhabitants to new housing in the Piano followed between 1952 and the 1970s. A new law in 1986 opened the path to restoration and reoccupation of the Sassi, this time – as noted by the architectural historian Anne Toxey – for the benefit of the wealthy middle class. The recognition of the Sassi, labelled la città sotterranea ("the underground city"), together with the rupestrian churches across the Gravina as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in December 1993 has assisted in attracting tourism and accelerated the reclaiming of the site. In 2019, Matera was declared a European Capital of Culture.
experiments with very old Sigma 28-300 mount Canon EF attached to Sony A7 iii camera thorough an adapter Viltrox EF-NEX iV. Doesn't work AF so I used Manual focus. It seems that no Metabones nor MC-11 adapters AF works with this coupling of camera/lens. I ordered a Fotodiox Pro Fusion adapters that someone says could work. We will see. UPDATE : unfortunately using Fotodiox Pro Fusion my Sony A7 iii got blocked . To unblock I have to remove battery. I will continue to use adapter Viltrox EF-NEX iV with AF manual. If someone has any useful info about working adapter pls share. UPDATE : I bought a used adapter Metabones IV. AF works very vell in single shot (less in Continuous AF).
The largest terrestrial animals in the world is dwarfed by a giant acacia tree in NgoroNgoro Crater. The African Elephant grazes and browses continuously to consume the quantities of food it needs to sustain its large size. Tender acacia leaves are a favorite food and many a tree succumbs to the brute force of the elephant. Smaller trees are frequently knocked down or torn apart in by elephants, sometimes leaving large swaths of forest destroyed. Elephants, when not poached, can live in excess of 70 years. Of the over 100 species of acacia, most are smaller and have less longevity that the tree shown. A few can reach great heights and attain greater age. But the battle between this mighty acacia and the seemingly small elephant is constant. Even though he won't be able to knock this tree over, its lower branches will remain at risk. The ground is strewn with large branches pulled down and stripped of succulent leaves. And in nature's struggle for survival even the might small can survive. #iLoveNature #iLoveWildlife #WildlifePhotography in #Tanzania #Nature in #Africa #Elephants #AfricanElephants #Acacia #DrDADBooks #Canon #WildlifeConservation
By the time I snapped this I had already been standing here for more than hour, my legs felt like jelly and my back complained continuously. If I could have sat down or wandered around I most certainly would have but with having to balance on narrow raised field edges avoiding plants, streams and whatever else was lurking around it wasn't an ideal spot to get comfortable in and if it hadn't have been so beautiful here I would surely have given up.
Okay, I could probably have arrived a little later but being aware that the field workers arrive around 6:30 am, despite their kindness I felt a little awkward to walk right by and felt obligated to arrive before their arrival if only to keep a low profile. After all, I was on private property and my conscience was pricking me slightly!
Knowing the sun wouldn't break over the mountain until around 8 am I already knew I was in for a long wait and would be unable to move around freely, but then I was so moved the previous morning looking down onto the valley from my tent and seeing this wonderful shaft of light penetrating through the mist it would have been a lost opportunity if I hadn't at least have tried. Patience does have its rewards if you put your back into it!
Thank you for resting here :)
* * * *
Like most of us I'm a regular follower of youtube channels and would like to mention one particular one here, not because it's of any significance to my own photography but simply because I hold great admiration for Ewan Dunsmuir's work and he deserves far more recognition than he is currently achieving.
Today I didn't spend that much time yardbirding, but I saw precisely the same birds as yesterday. These siskins have been in the yard pretty much continuously since late March, yet I've posted no photos of them. Pine siskin, backyard Olympia.
Elfreth's Alley is one of the oldest continuously inhabited residential streets in the United States. Located in Old City, Philadelphia, Elfreth's Alley dates back to 1703 and is an exceptional collection of early American structures built between 1720 and 1836. (Elfreth's Alley museum website)
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Chicago South Shore & South Bend GP38-2 2003 — properly equipped with a Leslie five-chime — breaks the silence of a quiet Michigan City morning as it jogs down 11th Street, en route to Shops.
Having spent December 2018 through July 2022 in the East Coast, I missed the last days of the South Shore Freight / NICTD street running in Michigan City in February 2022. At the time, I was a little displeased that I missed getting those last classic shots, like dipping down the grade at 11th St. and Lafayette and passing First Christian Church, or snaking onto 10th St. after clearing the Amtrak diamond.
Therefore, the promise of a relatively rare eastbound freight on the morning of August 6, 2022, was something of consolation prize for being six months late to the party. No more were scenes that seethed of an interurban railroad, with two steel ribbons laying in the pavement, boxed in by a series of stick homes and bungalows, and capped by overhead wire.
In retrospect, this consolation prize was worth more than the proverbial big check. Truly, how long will this brief moment in time — when the first crossties and continuous welded rail of the second track are going in, but the catenary and overhead wire still aren't in — be available? Certainly shorter than the century that photographers had to capture the classic Michigan City scenes hundreds of times over.
the continuous pursuit
melting moments into hours - days -
lines -
a circle
sometimes more earthy than other times
with cranes trapped screeching inside your neck
centipedes carving galleries in discarded embraces
Achilles grinning tingled by the sharp tip of an arrow
so spent
litanies gone by with nothing to show
except the dirt from your hands,
and the upset frown of rocks, disarrayed
shambled
and then
it emerges, steady, tall
gentle sway in a safe hull
floating smoothly on turbulent streams
perfect stillness amidst entropy
drop of rain above the sweltering ground
and you know you are there
--
because sometimes it's easier to use metaphors to describe your struggle of bringing balance into your life (or balancing the matter around you)
The South-East side of the Rion – Antirion bridge, aka the Charilaos Trikoupis bridge, Greece. A 348 ft (106 m) long ship is seen under the bridge on a course crossing the strait; it is a ferry boat weighing 1,800 tons.
The bridge was the longest multi-span cable-stayed bridge in the world with its 7,388 ft (2,252 m) continuous and fully suspended deck when constructed (in 1997–2004). The foundations lay on a seabed reaching 213 ft (65 m) of depth and they have a 295 ft (90 m) diameter. During the 7-year long construction no serious accidents were reported, no single drop of blood was shed. The bridge is a landmark of Greece in the 21st century and is named after the late Prime Minister Ch. Trikoupis who spoke in the Parliament about the need for such a bridge in March 1889!
Explore Highest Position #1 on September 23th, Explore Frontpage
Paris shelters a lot of beautiful old homes with amazing stairs in which depth is the most amazing part of all. When the light is just good and nobody is around, even stairs are interesting to photograph. A shame that a lot of these buildings are forgotten.
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I ,a shy and quiet boy since young, was a target of the bullied throughout my 8 years of childhood. The memories of being bullied continuously have had a little or more effect on my confidence and activeness. I shut myself off from the society, claimed myself a weak person and brought myself with a gloomy, tired and scary look.
I’ve never believed in myself…
I came to photography when my dad lent me his camera when I was 6. From the first clicks, I already felt "this is where I belong". Photography helps me recreating the world seen through my eyes and felt by my soul, helps me remembering faces, smiles, memories of a passing time. And it even reminds of the things which are supposed to be forgotten.
I chose dark art because dark art is a fine illustration of the world I am seeing - a world of melancholy and sadness. Through dark art, I can dig deep into the darkest place of a human, right there, people are living in the own nature: weak, crazy and also vulnerable. Being an introvert person, dark art is also a way of relieving the soul, showing people who I am, what I am and what I’m capable of - something that I rarely share with anybody. As a result, I became more open with everyone, gave more laughs and talked more to the people around me. "You look way more better then?" - my friends said in satisfaction.
I never stop doubting myself ...
I’ve been reeling from my "what should I do" and "I’m not good enough" thinkings, which makes me deviate from my original path. Always wish to be like other photographer pals: big relationships, big interacts and having a support team while I am alone all the time,… I gradually forget that I’ve lost myself, forgotten that my path was different from all of them. I am an independent existence, I exist uniquely and I should’ve not been anyone’s copy. It’s been a difficult time right now, I was once again separated myself from everyone, even the ones I love so much. Always bringing suspense and fear of any situations. And even when writing these words, those emotions are making my hands shake and my heart beats so fast.
I know that there aren’t any obstacles that cannot be overcome if I dare to face, and I know that nothing can stop me if I truly believe that I can do it in my heart. However, "How?", "How can I really believe in myself?”, "How can I become more confidence?", "How can I make this? "How can I do that ...?", “How…?”, “How…?” and "How ...?". I’ve spent a great deal of time resting, thinking and rearranging things that were still unfinished. Those fears are still here, those thoughts are still here, and the answer I still cannot find out but at least this time I will try, something at least makes me feel better. And I hope someday I can find my own answer and be happy with it.
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"the concept of continuous existence." This is one of the definitions for Time. Time is an interesting concept and as I grow older it becomes more and more an enigma.
In regards to this photo. Does it read as my artistic interpretation of Time? or does it look like a photo for a timepiece in a catalog? Oh well. (:-)
Once upon a time there was a smug little town perched at the edge of a deep blue ocean. All around it, trees grew. Great twisting tentacled trees. Trees with limbs like undulating snakes, like curls of smoke turned miraculously solid. The trees breathed in and out, cleaning the air continuously; their fallen leaves and acorns fed the earth around their roots, creating food and habitat for all manner of other critters. Their branches were anointed with nests; their summer shade cooled the meadow, preserving moisture through the long brown rainless summers.
The trees harmed no one. At least not on purpose. Of course there were “accidents” when people felled them; maimings, fatalities, losses of human limbs; that was to be expected. But most of the time the trees, as far as anyone in the town knew, pretty much just stood there, swaying in the breeze, changing with the seasons; anonymous, dispensable, to be hacked away without a thought when the thing called Progress demanded it.
Then one day a fairy (do you think they called them fairies because they so often set things right, or restored an order of fairness?). Anyway, one day a fairy happened by and was surprised by what she saw. She’d last visited the shore a few hundred years earlier (a short blip in fairy time) and seen a very different place.
The people who lived there hundreds of years ago led a rich and satisfying life. The sea and surrounding woods and meadows provided a diverse and nearly endless food supply. The people ate well; had plenty for the winters; lived in comfort… and had the luxury of dedicating time to art, to craft, to ceremony, song and feast. They had their hardships. Their life was not idyllic. But they cherished and respected the earth. And the trees.
The new town was different. The people there saw the trees (if indeed they noticed them at all) as barriers, as things to be removed and gotten past. They slaughtered the trees to build their houses, heat their houses, cook their food. They slaughtered more to grow crops, to build roads and shopping malls. The trees were not entirely resigned (remember those “accidents”). But they were rooted; that was the only thing that truly held them back. And so the fairy, hoping to return the place to its earlier balance, gave the trees the power of movement; made their roots fast feet; encouraged them to bring the place back to what it had been.
The trees went forward without hesitation. They had dreamed of this day for a very long time. Many had been planning it in detail for centuries. They decided to wait till late in the night when most of the town would be sleeping or distracted.
As darkness fell, they began a slow shuffle. Earth erupted as first one, then 10, then a hundred others ripped their deep thick heavy roots from the ground… setting off a string of low successive rumbles like a long roll of thunder. A soft cloud of dust rose up around the town’s outskirts as the trees moved in. They barricaded roads. Stopped traffic. And, after all those countless years of practising with only air, their long twisting talons made solid contact; pried the roofs off houses; lashed down the power lines and watched, amused as the people jerked and fried with their own innovation coursing through them. The trees systematically ripped up the town, destroyed the people’s built environment. They worked through the night until nothing artificial stood, and all the people had been killed or had fled.
By morning the trees were exhausted. Movement was new to them and they had had a lot of it. They surveyed what was left of the town and they were well and truly pleased. They lashed long branches across each other’s backs in celebration of their victory. And then.
And then one tree saw something shiny, flickering in the dust. It was small and metallic with a strange glass front that kept changing colours, patterns, frequencies of light and dark. The tree picked it up and showed it to a few of the others. They didn’t understand why or how, but the bright shiny flickering glass held their attention. Soon more trees gathered round. And they touched the object, and it made sounds. And it continued making sounds, and somehow the sounds and the flashing glassy light seemed connected – and the trees found it even more compelling.
These were all park trees. They had lived in the closest thing to wilderness there was around the town. Few of their immediate family had been slaughtered, and so they were less vigilantly anti-people than their more urban counterparts. They talked among themselves and decided on two things.
1. They would take the shiny object back to the park to amuse them. Now that they had tasted freedom, they were less keen about standing all day and night in silence with nothing to watch or listen to but weather, insects, birds and other plants.
2. On their way back, they would check the ruins of the town for any more shiny objects. If they found more, they’d take those back as well.
So the trees started heading to the park, sifting through what was left of buildings and roadways and parking lots and whatnot along the way. They found a bunch of the shiny things and shared them among themselves… sitting in groups, huddled, watching shiny colours flash.
A couple of the urban trees saw what was happening. And they were aghast. Because they knew about television. They had peered through windows. They had seen the destruction; had seen the tuned-in zombies lying motionless for hours in the strange blue flickering glow from the screens; had seen their muscles atrophy; had seen their bellies bulge and their brains go mushy from mindless inactivity.
“Please,” they said to the park trees. “Resist the temptation. The shiny things are harmful. Besides, they’ll only flicker till their batteries die and then you’ll be hooped.” Because the urban trees knew about batteries, too. And they saw how frantic and useless the people had become when their electronic gizmos died, even temporarily.
But the park trees were already hooked. “Screw you,” they said to the urban trees. “You’re just jealous ‘cause we have shiny things and you don’t. We’re keeping them.”
And they did. And a great cultural gulf grew up between the trees. The park dwellers spent all their time gathered ‘round the shiny things – hunched, staring, lifeless. They didn’t have the energy to make new leaves when spring came; they made no shade in the summer; their doubled-over trunks and folded limbs provided no habitat and… worst of all… their stretched-out roots lost contact with the earth and cut off their former supply of nutrients.
Then one day the batteries died. The flickering screens went dark and silent. And the park trees were lost… utterly lost. They’d forgotten about their former lives; had no idea how to just be trees. And besides, they were weak and sick from endless days and nights of television.
But. They had watched enough news to know what a population ought to do in that situation:
First they looked for someone to blame. They decided it should be the urban trees. Then they declared war. And mounted an attack.
It was fall. The park and the former town were crispy dry – more than usual, what with the park trees having been off the job for so long.
The park trees were weak, too… too weak to muster any full-on, tree-to-tree combat-type attack.
So they did something they’d seen on TV: rubbed their branches together… harder and harder, faster and faster… till sparks flew. And the dry grass ignited.
By the time they realized the fire would engulf them all, it was too late.
This parent was keeping a close eye on one of its young and was continuously calling to it while it was above ground. Taken on a quick stop to stretch our legs on the Bow Valley Parkway.
At first I thought both of these eagles were facing toward me, then I saw through the lens that the male has turned around to watch me in the boat. So great.
After continuously eating and growing for two weeks, the Monarch Caterpillar will typically leave its food source and search for a nice safe place to transform into a butterfly. Once it finds its spot ( could be under a beach chair, an outdoor table, really anywhere), it will create a strong silk using its mouth , apply it to its hanging spot, and use that silk to hang upside in the shape of a J. After about 12 hours of hanging in this way, the Monarch Caterpillar will unzip its skin and reveal a green Chrysalis, where it will remain inside and transform over an additional two weeks.
Just before the transformation is complete, the green Chrysalis will begin to turn clear and you'll actually be able to see most of the Monarch Caterpillar inside. This shot was taken just an hour or so before the butterfly emerged.
Program:Manual
Lens:24-70mm f/2.8 G VR
F:10.0
Speed:15
ISO:64
Focal Length:30 mm
AF Fine Tune Adj:+16
Focus Mode:AF-S
AF Area:Unknown (5)
Shooting Mode:Continuous, Delay, [3], Exposure Bracketing
VR:Off
Metering Mode:Multi-segment
WB:Auto0
Picture Control:Neutral
Focus Distance:14.13 m
Dof:inf (2.48 m - inf)
HyperFocal:3.00 m