View allAll Photos Tagged crying
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لا مرني طيفك بخيالي ..
أضمه حيل بأحضاني ..
وشلون إذا جيت عندي ..
وشافتك عيني ..
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لكـل من أعجبته .. لاتنسى الفاف
الإعدادات
Canon EOS 500D
f/5.6
1/250 sec
300 mm
ISO-100
This one was in a patch of forest where there has recently been a fire, hence the background. ISO 800 was used because I am incompetent - I left it on that setting from a previous photoshoot in a dark forest. This one would have been fine at ISO 100 but no use crying over spilt milk.
This was an amazing experience. when we were driving to our camp we came across a giraffe carcass. It had recently been killed and as we looked we saw a new born or a very young baby lion cub. The mother had left it there to feed but when it had had enough it cried and cried. This alerted the mother and she soon appeared to rescue her little one. There are images that I have that show her gently picking it up with her teeth and taking it back to her resting place. The round bone you see to the left is part of the giraffes leg which gives you a little idea of just how small this little guy was. It was difficult to photograph this area as it was in amongst the trees but an incredible moment for us to observe.
Have a blessed day !
Matt couldn't hold tears during the church ceremony, Annie was more joyful...he said yes! and so did she...
Canon eos 3 - 50mm lens and Tmax 400
The column known as Tear or Crying Column, has an appearance as if it were crying because it is wet unlike the other columns. It is reported that the Crying Pillar was built for the memory of hundreds of slaves who lost their lives during the construction of the Basilica Cistern.
Over the years, people have often asked me why I write... since... outside the paying stuff (and, lately, what I post here) my writing (cue spooky music, please) is never seen by human eyes. Not even Mike's. I just pour it out and file it away... either on my hard drive or in some notebook where I know it'll disappear.
So. Why do I do it. Partly out of habit. But mostly as an eliminatory function. It's as though words were, somehow, a byproduct of thinking... mental exhaust fumes... compost, whatever. And writing them down gets them out of my head. I don't care if they go anywhere, any more than I worry about the dead skin swirling down the drain when I shower. Yeah, sure, it's part of me but... yeeesh... get it away from me!
I feel the same way about crying. It's cleansing. It clears out the tear ducts... and the brain.
I cry when I'm sad, for sure. But I also cry when I'm happy. Or moved by the beauty of something. Or touched by someone's kindess. Or confronted with a cute critter.
I cry when I'm frustrated. I cry reading the newspaper. I always cry on my birthday (something to do with presents and kindess). Hell, I even cry when I hear the national anthem at a hockey game... or any time I'm in a large united group of people (wedding, graduation, conference, whatever). In other words, it's no big deal. No bigger deal than writing or bathing.
I don't recall the specifics, but I once read an article that detailed the number and types of toxins in tears. That really bolstered my eliminatory theory. It also made me feel bad for men (and women) who've been taught or trained to avoid crying at all costs; I think they're missing out on a good healthy cleansing.
So... yeah. I wasn't sad at all when I took this. Detached would be a better word; observing, almost scientific. Tears, check. Furrowed brow, check. Quivering chin, check. Yep, this gal's a-cryin' fer sure.
Anyway, I share this in the same spirit in which it was taken... as a sort of curiosity.
Plus, it may be a while before I'm able to post again (work coming down on me)... so... yes... sniff sniff... I'll be missing Flickr. Boo freakin' hoo.