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The Illusions*
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Illusions commend themselves to us because they save us pain and allow us to enjoy pleasure instead. We must therefore accept it without complaint when they sometimes collide with a bit of reality against which they are dashed to pieces.
(Sigmund Freud)
***a candid shot taken at al corniche, doha-qatar. thanks for viewing guys and have a nike friday to all.
Montreal has had a downpour of rain for 4 days so when it finally stopped (for just a couple of hours) I dashed out to see if I could find some flies blowing bubbles... exhaling and drawing in water drops. Woo Hoo! I managed to catch a few despite the breeze and the relentless mosquitoes. Isn't nature fantastic?!
Mission San José de Tumacácori, Arizona
Rock Dash: a wall finish with crushed rocks dashed into unset stucco to create a dynamic texture.
Now we venture into a dark storm, where we shall once more find Navarre. The lightning's blinding flash pierces the heavy clouds as we come upon a small raft whose occupants cling to it for dear life. Suddenly a larger then normal wave darkened one spot even more.
"It's all up now," Ralincler muttered to himself and shut his eyes, for in the blasting, tossing, water it was impossible to converse. However he soon found out that it was not all over as the craft rose with the waves and rushed onwards to it's invisible doom. Fortunately, being a rough raft, their bark could not be swamped or all would have ended long ago.
"I wish the clouds would lift for one second, we could at least know if we are close to land," Navarre began, "We maybe nearing the Island of Lost Souls."
"We'd better hope not, I'd rather drown out here then be cast on such an Island," Ralincler replied though neither could hear much of what the other said, "If only half the thing be true that are said about that place it'd be better to end ourselves right now, and if we did approach it, what's the use? We are without food, with but few arms, a good chance of drowning or getting killed by the surf, and no way to get off it again for love or money!"
"While there is life, there is hope," Navarre answered coolly, but his words were lost to the wind.
Of a sudden the third man, named Gantric, yelled, "Land! We may be saved yet!"
"Ah, fool, saved from the water that is," Ralincler growled back, "and likely not even that, who can survive in such breakers?"
But they had no time to talk for the shoreline was getting nearer each second. As the rode on another crashing wave which would throw them on the beach Ralincler beckoned them to follow him and, after throwing off his heavy armor, dived off into the surf. Navarre followed in a blink else he would have assuredly lost him in the blinding spray and towering waves which met him the instant he touched the water.
The third man, however was not so fortunate, for as he leapt in after them the raft cleft asunder on some coral and a spar sent him spinning in the wrong direction.
Navarre meanwhile plunged through the waves and soon noticed his guide's goal; the mouth of a comparatively peaceful river which flowed out into the raging sea. The sight gave him the new strength he direly needed and he dove ahead.
Nevertheless he felt his strength beginning to be spent while the sea threw him about violently. With a superhuman effort and a battle cry cut short by the sea he passed a looming wall of water and finally reached the comparative safety of the river. Here Ralincler pulled him onto it's bank where Navarre collapsed.
"I'll go see if I can help Gantric," Ralincler told him. "He won't need me unless I'm wrong though," he continued and turning, made for the beach again.
While Ralincler was gone Navarre recovered and stood up to observe his surroundings. The sight was not a pleasant outlook. Immediately before were some dark trees casting darker shadows still, and behind, lost in the forest save for it's glowing eyes, a black cave set in the mouth a grinning skull. He shuddered and turned to find his comrade.
"Well, a sad end to a good captain and better comrade," Ralincler commenced on his return, "but at least there's one less mouth to feed. He was dashed upon the rocks with enough force to have killed behemoth!"
"Well, though I wouldn't mind his help we must think quick if we wish to not end in a similar fashion. Have you brought any weapons? Unfortunately I have only my knife and ax which are in my belt."
"There I have the advantage of you, I brought my sword and a short javelin. But hurry," he cut short the conversation, "if we do we may find a bale of food which would hardly harm us."
Nothing, however, could be found on the beach and though the saw a barrel tossing in the eddy between the river and the sea it was much to far out to access. And so they were marooned alone on the Island of Lost Souls whose very soil they would begin to hate before they left its fearful shores…
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Free build for LoR and first blood in the CCC! Enjoy!
Leiothlypis celata,
Morro Bay, California
I rarely see the orange crown. This one was in the yard during a rain, and I assumed that may have helped separate those head feathers and make the orange more visible. Later, that theory was dashed when friend up the street, Kaaren, posted photos of what has to be the same bird after the rain quit and the bird had dried. The orange appeared more obvious in her photos. See also the adjacent photo for a different view.
Series of three. Sorry but I did not see its tail. It dashed across the path in front of me and I thought that was that. But it took pity on me and reappeared and stood and posed for just a minute. I cannot tell which it is. It has got very white paws. Can anyone help with an identification please.
taken using the bridge railing as tripod. This was a quick escape from the busy meeting days in Beijing... i dashed to get a cab to the 2008 olympic site... i made the right decision... the structures are spectacular especially when viewed at night. I stayed there for a few minutes then they started turning the lights off, good thing i made it just in time to capture the beauty of marvelous engineering and design. Beijing is a cool city.
Taken at 6:30 this morning, from the bedroom window. The crescent moon, at 6-percent illuminated, in the pre-dawn sky, with Mars below and bright Venus lower still.
CC - Week 42 ... "Oh, Shiny!"
I was on my way to the shower, then my first coffee after rising from my sleep. I took a glance out of the window and saw the above. I dashed downstairs for the camera, then took several photos out of the bedroom window. Even before the first coffee, or shower, I had the photos on the computer and posted to Flickr. :)
Definitely a distraction :)
♩Ride youtu.be/Py_-3di1yx0
I was in the winter of my life
And the men I met along the road were my only summer
At night I fell asleep with visions of myself dancing and laughing and crying with them
Three years down the line of being on an endless world tour and my memories of them were the only things that sustained me
And my only real happy times
I was a singer
Not a very popular one
I once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet
But upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky
That I wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken
But I didn’t really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted and then losing it to know what true freedom is
When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing how I had been living, they asked me why, but there’s no use in talking to people who have a home
They have no idea what its like to seek safety in other people
For home to be wherever you lie your head
I was always an unusual girl
My mother told me that I had a chameleon soul
No moral compass pointing me due north
No fixed personality
Just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean
And if I said I didn’t plan for it to turn out this way I’d be lying
Because I was born to be the other woman
Who belonged to no one
Who belonged to everyone
Who had nothing
Who wanted everything
With a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn’t even talk about it
And pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me
Every night I used to pray that I’d find my people
And finally I did
On the open road
We had nothing to lose, nothing to gain, nothing we desired anymore
Except to make our lives into a work of art
Live fast
Die young
Be wild
And have fun
I believe in the country America used to be
I believe in the person I want to become
I believe in the freedom of the open road
And my motto is the same as ever
"I believe in the kindness of strangers"
And when I'm at war with myself
I ride
I just ride
Who are you?
Are you in touch with all of your darkest fantasies?
Have you created a life for yourself where you can experience them?
I have
I am fucking crazy
But I am free
...~Lana Del Rey
After arriving home from work I grabbed my camera and quickly dashed out again to catch the last light of the day. It's been raining so relentlessly lately that I had to take advantage of any momentary break in the clouds.
Mamiya 6 - 50mm f/4 - Fujifilm Astia 100F
In one awful day in October 1881 families in south-east Scotland lost 189 of their menfolk in one of the worst storms on record. Fishing boats from towns and villages along the coast had gone out to sea as normal despite the possibility of a severe storm. After weeks of bad weather the local fleet were becoming impatient to go to sea. On Friday 14th October 1881 they awoke to a calm morning. Ignoring the low reading on their barometer, they put to sea.
By midday they were in the teeth of a severe storm for which their wooden boats were no match. They fled for the shelter of the port but many never made it. Their vessels either overturned or were dashed on the rocks at the entrance to harbours or elsewhere along that small stretch of coast. Women and children looked on helplessly as their husbands, brothers and fathers were thrown into the sea and drowned before their eyes.
In 2016 on the 135th anniversary of the disaster the widows and children were remembered with a series of memorials overlooking the harbours and seafronts at the towns and villages involved. Entitled Widows And Bairns, they were created by artist Jill Watson and depict each mother and child who was directly affected. Pictured is the memorial that overlooks the harbour at the tiny hamlet of Cove. Here, eleven out of the 21 working fishermen lost their lives that awful day.
Source: various incl. www.HistoryShelf.org
ISS029-E-012564 (29 Sept. 2011) --- The Midwestern United States at night with Aurora Borealis is featured in this image photographed by an Expedition 29 crew member on the International Space Station. The night skies viewed from the space station are illuminated with light from many sources. For example, the Midwestern United States presents a night-time appearance not unlike a patchwork quilt when viewed from orbit. The artificial light from human settlements appears everywhere with a characteristic yellow tinge in this photograph. But green light of the Aurora Borealis also appears strongly in this view (top left)—even seeming to be reflected off Earth’s surface—in Canada—beneath the aurora. A small white patch of light is almost certainly lightning from a storm on the East coast (top right). Part of the International Space Station appears across the top of the image. This photograph highlights the Chicago, IL, metropolitan area as the largest cluster of lights at center, next to the dark patch of Lake Michigan. The other largest metropolitan areas include St. Louis, MO (lower right), Minneapolis–St. Paul, MN (left) and the Omaha–Council Bluffs region on the Nebraska–Iowa border (lower left). City light clusters give an immediate sense of relative city size; demographers have used night time satellite imagery to make estimates of city populations, especially in the developing world where city growth can be very rapid. The U.S. northeast seaboard lies in the most oblique (meaning viewed at an angle) part of the image at top right, just beyond the Appalachian Mts., a dark winding zone without major cities. Scales change significantly in oblique views: Omaha is only 200 kilometers from Des Moines, but appears roughly the same distance from Minneapolis—which is actually 375 kilometers to the north of Des Moines. In addition to the major metropolitan areas, the rectangular NS/EW-oriented pattern of townships is clearly visible in the rural, lower left part of the image. This pattern instantly gives the sense of north orientation (toward the top left corner) and is a distinctive characteristic of the United States, so that ISS crew members can quickly know which continent they are flying over even at night. In contrast to the regular township pattern, interstate highways converge on St. Louis (e.g. Hwy 44), Chicago and other large cities, much like wheel spokes around a central hub. Rivers—major visual features in daylight—become almost invisible at night. The course of the Mississippi River appears as a slightly meandering zone from Minneapolis through St. Louis (dashed line)—the river course continues out of the lower right corner of the image.
DRS 68034 leads classmate 68034 through Grange-Over-Sands just as some squiff began to detract from the sun on 0K73 (vice 6K73) Sellafield BNF - Crewe Coal Siding.
Bit of a disappointment on this one, no load and the hopes of a lash up was sadly dashed when a pair came into view but still a reasonable effort. Sun just a touch too low at this point.
A day spent in Oak Harbor began with a sunrise line-up off the Toledo District on atcs. With nothing to go on, we dashed to the north bank of the Portage River and aimed our cameras in the golden path of the morning sun. Minutes later, NS extra 300 was across the river with an increasingly rare Throroughbred C44-9W and two cabless slugs. In an era of monotony, a surprise of this nature is warmly welcomed and was the highlight of our 22-train day.
Oak Harbor, OH
December 17th, 2021
At one point on our hike Saturday Jasper found a stick and dashed off in front of us in some sort of fantasy I'm sure. After watching him toss the stick and dart about I called him back. And back he came at full speed, all full of life. Crappy light and kind of a weird tongue position but this is so Jasper - living life to its fullest and fully airborne. Trail 396 in Prescott, AZ
Today's edition of "armchair traveling during the Coronavirus lockdown" takes me back, one year ago today, to our Rhine River Cruise. We spent the morning cruising the Waal and De Lek Rivers to reach the scenic and very popular Kinderdijk Windmills. The 19 windmills, designed to drain the adjacent polder, were built in 1740, and all are still functional to a certain extent. They actually rely on electric pumps to maintain the water levels now. This tourist site is so popular that the river boats have a reservation to use the docks. As soon as they pull out, another ship pulls in. We were there for about 2 hours, during which time I dashed about and took a couple hundred pictures :)
When I found train LO-34 getting ready to go at Soo Yard on September 11, 1990 with 710 pointed toward Gladstone I had high hopes of a sun filled chase west towards Trout Lake. My hopes were soon dashed as the crew arrived and determined 710 had a bad order radio among a couple other faults so the decided to turn the power on the seldom used wye at the west end of the yard. They are out on the south stub of the wye in this shot and 6538 will be pointed properly to lead the train as soon as they back around the east leg. I was plenty disappointed being a 30 fan but at least the 6538 was in full WC colors which took some of the sting off.
One metre from our dining room window is next-door's pebble-dashed wall. I've copied on to it a sketch I did a month or so ago of the view of Swansea Bay from Clyne Farm.
A bright fireball was spotted over the Netherlands and Belgium on 21 September at 21:00 CEST (19:00 GMT).
It was caused by a small meteoroid, estimated to be around several centimetres, entering Earth’s atmosphere and burning up.
The fireball was captured by a number of all-sky camera stations of the Dutch–Belgian meteor network operated by amateurs of the Dutch Meteor Society and the Meteor Section of the Royal Netherlands Association for Meteorology and Astronomy. They use automated photographic cameras with fish-eye lenses to capture images of the night sky on clear nights.
This remarkable image was captured by one of the stations, at Ermelo, operated by Koen Miskotte.
It is a 1.5 minute exposure with a Canon EOS 6D DSLR and a fish-eye lens.
The camera lens was equipped with an LCD shutter that, during the exposure, creates brief ‘breaks’ at a rate of 14 per second. These are the dark gaps in the trail making it look dashed. Because the LCD shutter rate is known, you can count the dashes and obtain the duration of the fireball: 5.3 seconds.
The image also provides information on the deceleration of the meteoroid in the atmosphere. In this case, it entered the atmosphere at 31 km/s and had slowed to 23 km/s by the time it disappeared (because it had burnt up completely) at 53 km altitude.
The bright star trail just below the tip of the fireball is Arcturus. The Big Dipper can be seen at right, above the treeline. The bright star near the centre of the image just left of the fireball trail is Vega.
Read full details on this brief but fiery event via Marco Langbroek’s SatTrackCam blog.
More information
Credit: K. Miskotte
Die Waldohreule hat mit einer Körperlänge von etwa 36 cm und einer Flügelspannweite von 95 cm etwa die Größe eines Waldkauzes. Sie ist jedoch wesentlich schlanker als der Waldkauz und mit einem Gewicht von 220 bis 280 Gramm (Männchen) bzw. 250 bis 370 Gramm (Weibchen) erheblich leichter. Auffallende, große Federohren kennzeichnen diese Art. Die Federohren haben keine Funktion im Zusammenhang mit der Hörleistung der Eule. Zur Verstärkung der Hörleistung dient vielmehr der bei der Waldohreule auffällige Gesichtsschleier. Die Iris der Waldohreule ist leuchtend orangegelb. Das Gesicht wird durch eine auffällig hervorstehende Stirnbefiederung geteilt. Die Flügel sind relativ schmal. Das Gefieder der Waldohreule ist auf hellbraunem bis ockergelbem Grund schwarzbraun gestrichelt und gefleckt. Die Hand- und Armschwingen sind deutlich dunkel quergebändert. Allgemein überwiegen bei den Weibchen dunkle, rostbraune Farbtöne. Die Männchen sind dagegen in ihrer Grundfärbung etwas heller. Die Färbung des Gefieders dient der Tarnung; ruhende Vögel im Geäst sind kaum zu entdecken. Die Augen werden durch ein oberes und ein unteres Augenlid sowie durch eine Nickhaut, die das Auge bedecken kann, geschützt.
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The long-eared owl has a body length of about 36 cm and a wingspan of 95 cm about the size of a tawny owl. However, it is much slimmer than the tawny owl and with a weight of 220 to 280 grams (male) or 250 to 370 grams (females) considerably lighter. Striking, large spring ears characterize this species. The spring ears have no function in connection with the hearing performance of the owl. To amplify the hearing rather serves the conspicuous in the long-eared owl facial veil. The long-eared owl's iris is bright orange-yellow. The face is divided by a conspicuously protruding forehead. The wings are relatively narrow. The plumage of the long-eared owl is dashed and spotted on light brown to ocher-yellow ground black-brown. The hand and arm wings are clearly darkly broken. In general, females are dominated by dark, russet-brown shades. In contrast, the males are slightly lighter in their basic color. The coloring of the plumage serves for camouflage; resting birds in the branches are hardly to be discovered. The eyes are protected by an upper and a lower eyelid as well as a pitching skin, which can cover the eye.
Quelltext Wikipedia
I was in the kitchen talking with the family members when I noticed the beautiful evening light through the kitchen window. The woman of the house was making homemade tortillas (seen in the previous photo ). I dashed outside to take advantage of the light. It was really lovely.
lol todays note from the universe how ironicly acurate it is lol...........
Do you have any idea how many princesses have gone unrecognized by their prince, because of logic? Or, how many princes have gone unrecognized by their princess, because of pride?
How many dreams were dashed when the handmaiden answered the door? Or when the gatehouse was mistaken for the mansion? Or when the calm before the storm of abundance and good fortune was viewed as a sign to retreat?
Happily, Michelle, we've got forever and ever. And fortunately, it's never too late to see what one's missed, remain focused on the dream instead of the "hows," and move with unwavering faith.
Yeeeeeee-haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!
The Universe
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Andy Dooley, Mike's brother and inspirational humorist, has a DVD - LIFE IS EASY that says it all!
"Dooley's one man show is a combo of stand-up comedy and inspirational seminar, sort of Bill Cosby meets Tony Robbins." - Orlando Sentinel
Life is Easy
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Thoughts become things... choose the good ones! ®
© www.tut.com ®
Oh no, don't feel sorry for the handmaiden! She stuck around, Michelle, her prince showed up, they inherited the mansion and were showered in good fortune forever and ever.
For this photo I did 1 minute exposures with 1 min between shots to give the dashed effect. Interesting photo if not the best composition!
Corn flower crusted tofu squared served over sauteed leeks and broccoli. Topped with a flavorful cornflower sauce and dashed with a pinch of Celtic sea salt.
We rarely "plan". Our approach is generally, what perishables need to be used and what staples do we have to work with. Fortunately Art is a creative cook!
We drove back after a meal in Cardiff , and were almost stopped in our tracks by a stunning cloud rising almost vertically for thousands of feet. I dropped off my wife and her sister, and dashed down to the beach at Ogmore, but sadly by then the cloud had released it's contents on the area and moved off. The heavy rain gave the sand texture, and I was content with finding these great drainage structures, and the clouds that followed. My Baby Walked Off, by Howling Wolf is a perfect title for an annoying, yet very rewarding few minutes.
As we were leaving Armadale recently, I decided to detour to Ardvasar to get on to the shore to see if there was anything worthwhile to photograph. I've got some nice shots from there in the past. Unfortunately the place where we normally park has been fenced off and as it was raining, we decided to pack it in and head home. I found a place to reverse into and looking behind I saw this boat caught in a shaft of sunlight so dashed out to grab a few shots before the conditions changed. Weird light, isn't it!
Woke early yesterday to find the area covered in thick mist - so dashed over to Oldbury Court, Frenchay at the crack of dawn to try some misty woodland shots. Rushed it a bit...so it was probably a mist opportunity :-)
This was a day that won't be forgotten too quickly.
With Knox, my Blue Heeler lying by my side, I was leaning on a tree trunk trying to capture mushrooms I had just found.
I gradually began to hear what sounded like several horses running toward me. As the sound grew louder, Knox began to move about. We were both trying to determine the source of the sound.
Still taking photographs, Knox and I were suddenly startled by a deer jumping over us running up the side of the hill, followed by the second and then the third.
As the third deer cleared the opening, I quickly realized something was happening on my other side. As I turned, I found a tiny deer standing there looking at both of us. It was scared and crying, making the sound a calf makes. "Momma" it cried. It was so close I could have touched it.
The adults had already flown by and were well on their way to the other side of the hill while the baby just stood there looking around and crying.
By that time, Knox had decided he should be the "dog" of the family and protect us from something, so he dashed from my side toward the baby. With that, the baby ran toward her momma, never turning around.
As Knox quickly returned, he came and sat down again by my side as I was trying to absorb what had just happened.
It was then that I realized it. I was sitting there still holding my camera, lens cap off, ready to shot.
Photographs of that event were taken and properly stored away and saved. Not the kind I was taking of the mushroom, but the special kind of photograph that could be viewed at a moment's notice.....in my mind.
The otters dashed from cover and just sat in the sunshine for a few minutes before dashing away again.
Many thanks to you ALL for the views, faves and comments you make on my shots it is very appreciated
They had been bickering ever since Crinan. Or was it banter? But Mike the Bike wasn’t happy. He had been resting up against the railings alongside the canal when he was literally lifted and put on the old converted fishing boat. Now he missed his owner a nice young thing with a fragrant pert bottom who used to bounce up and down on his leather saddle along the towpath.
It might have been summer but still when Semolina had hit the waves of the southern Minch sea spray had splashed over him where he lay tied down on the open wooden deck. Although he couldn’t move, he knew rust was forming on his handlebars and pedal cranks.
By the time they passed the Corran narrows and were heading up past Fort William to wards the southern end of the Caledonian Canal at Neptune’s Staircase he was getting both angry and argumentative, frustrated by his abduction (as he saw it).
Semolina was old and just chuntered on, her decrepit old diesel pounding away below decks, black acrid fumes bellowing out behind her. The owner didn’t seem to care either, unbothered that she might collapse at any moment and cast them adrift. The wheelhouse was rotten, the most up to date aid, an old Decca Navigator, that blinked with senile confusion. But some how they got to the top of Loch Linnhe.
It was there that Mike the Bike made a bid for freedom, jumping ashore whilst the owner had a boozy slumber in the damp and fetid rubbish strewn cabin below. Since his young blonde crewmate had jumped ship to a flashy tallship, and the cat had gone missing he seemed to have lost his soul completely and let things slip. And he had condemned Semolina to ruin. The hull was leaking, split timbers, full and stinking bilges, flaking paintwork, rotten ropes, perished seals. She was already a (just) floating wreck
None of that had been lost on Mike the Bike whilst he was tied down, and he was thankful to get off before she sank. Ashore he was so relieved to turn a wheel and feel the fresh air in his face as he raced along the towpath, totally blind to the strolling people who stood aside as a riderless bicycle went by.
The bet was on! He had bet Semolina £ 5 . he could get to Loch Ness before her! On their marks, and they were off, Mike the Bike hearing a change of note in Semolina’s engine as she hitched up a few more revs per minute. He got going up the ‘staircase’, lock by lock and then onto the flat. Mikie was already well ahead as he opened up on the Great Glen Way. By Moy Bridge he knew his bet was already won, and having expended himself thought he might take a rest.
It was an unwise thing to do. While he slumbered a wild camper spotted him there and leapt aboard taking him further along the canal to the vehicle recovery yard at Gairlochy where it seemed his round the world five times VW camper was having some critical attention for a broken five cylinder engine. When abandoned in the yard he had been wheeled in behind some derelict cars and jammed in and wedged by some wing mirrors….in a bed of nettles. A fierce guard dog in the compound meant he did not dare move until late in the day when it seemed the animal was taken elsewhere for some exercise.
It was almost dark when Mike the bike managed to free himself and get back on the Great Glen Way as it gently climbed through the pine forest above Loch Lochy. As it grew darker he found it spooky amongst the tall dark trees, and he couldn’t wait to get closer to the houses he knew were past Kilfinnan at Laggan. But he was driven, determined to beat old Semolina. As he rode he wondered how the old girl was getting on. She must be at least 50 years old, although from certain angles she looked younger. He had to admit he had some affection for her although he reckoned today would be tough for her, and he wished her luck, negotiating the difficult meeting with Laggan Locks, Loch Oich and a long stretch of canal before Kytra, and then more canal to putter along before the series of locks at Fort Augustus, and then finally into Loch Ness. Meantime he had no hurdles to cross, bar just plodding up the brilliant pathway towards Inbhir-Nis (or Inverness as I’ve always known it).
He dashed through Fort Augustus, horrified by the appearance of the prison camp like Loch Ness Highland Resort, and what other developers had done to the abbey but that’s supposedly what humans call progress. Nah, for him peace was finding a little quiet corner in the sunshine by the side of the loch, free of summertime midges.
And presently he found such a spot, in a layby at a place so small it was imaginatively called “Inch” just north of Fort Augustus. There were some dodgy looking wild campers in their vans in the layby, but he was so exhausted by his ride he thought he would risk a rest.
He was in a deep dream, when he was woken by the sound of an old engine. And not a VW/Audi 2.5 R5 TDI either. Looking up he saw a large shape looming to wards him. With joy he saw it was old Semolina coming round the point into Cherry Bay. But what of the owner? He was sawing at the wheel, this way and that, but Semolina wasn’t reacting and straightening her course. She was running straight for the shore, to him. Mike the Bike was alarmed as she hitched up her skirts with even more revs and aimed right at the water’s edge, riding high on the shelving beach, until she juddered to a stop.
Afterwards she never mentioned how the monster of Loch Ness had raked her sides and peeled apart her hull and taken the drunken owner back to her lair in the depths of the loch but…….well, I’m sure you know the rest of the story.
Think I should get some breakfast
I dropped the kids off at school in the pouring rain today but when I finished the school run (my kids go to a rural school, so its quite a run), the sun came out and there was wonderful fog etc everywhere. I dashed home, grabbed my camera and went back out. This was one of the images I captured.
According to one local legend, the castle was abandoned after the infant son of the chieftain who dwelt there at the time, in the charge of a nursemaid, fell from a window and was dashed on the rocks below. As a punishment, the nursemaid was set adrift on the North Atlantic in a small boat.
View from the Duntulm Castle, Isle of Skye, Scotland
There was a light shower early in the evening and this rainbow appeared so I dashed outside to photograph it. I was so happy to have caught a rainbow at Portmeirion! This is the roof on "The Dome" which was the view out of one of our windows.
I shall be catching up on comments tonight!
Remember PVLs showing on the 40 and 35 on their first GAL day? This time it's real!
Sorry that I couldn't get a better shot; London Bridge suddenly got mini-gridlocked when this PVL pulled up, so I run up to board it, then upon getting off at Elephant & Castle, I dashed to the closest island and quickly snapped it there…
The iBus is derpy, disconnects (almost gave me a sub scare) and refuses to show or announce “40 to Dulwich Library”, only names of stops displayed.
Some of the passengers for 1V50 York to Reading have taken to sitting on the platform as they await news of their delayed service, their spirits were lifted as 1G12 drew into the platform only to be dashed when the station announcer informed them that this was a terminating service from Nottingham. Relief was on the way as just over 5 minutes later their train arrived having been delayed by a tractor on the line.
3500km and 9 days is my latest trip with my friends Saad Ibrahim, Abdullah Alzwai and Mohamed Ibrahim (Driver), very challenging trip and full of discovering new places for us, the shots will be ordered according to our track (Kind of story). from north to south Libya.
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About the shot:
I am not satisfied enough with the result, you can see the trails is like dashed line because of passing clouds and also the moon is almost full thats way there is few stars.
Explored Feb 5, 2010 #72
I was among a throng of visitors to the top of Cadillac Mountain, hoping to see a glorious sunset. Those hopes were dashed when clouds moved in and completely covered the mountain top. When it became clear that the cloud cover would completely block out the vistas and wasn't going anywhere, most of the tourists left in dejection. However, I noticed an opening in the woods just 50 yards away from the gift shop. I ended up working the location for over an hour, shooting various compositions. I left with a big smile on my face shortly before dark. Acadia National Park, Maine.
...could only be a rainbow!
I was standing discussing the day's chores with the electrician and the carpenter just now when I screeched "a rainbow" and dashed out into the pouring rain! They clearly thought I was mad and I probably am! :-)
A red-shouldered hawk's scream caught my attention, and with my camera in hand, I dashed out the door in the early evening. The shot was challenging; I had to lean back against the side of a house, tilt my head as far back as possible, and take the picture!
The hawk successfully snatched its target meal, stolen from another hawk perched on the branch above, before flying off to enjoy its reward!
So my morning started early and hopes of some mist rising from the overnight dew where quickly dashed by a large sunken cloud hovering over the area. Needless to say I'm glad I wore my wellies! This is a view I captured on many occasions looking over Church Meadow towards Wittenham Clumps which are nicely obscured. Thankfully it is perfect weather to go stomping around in the wood :)
CN 438 dashed through the snow at Stoney Point after seeing a CSX YN2 leading at Tilbury. Safe to say that the snow couldn't have came at a better time and will definitively be one of my highlights for the winter!
Last week in Royston we had some early morning mist and conveniently little Jesse was feeling under the weather with a slight temperature, so I dashed back with Toby picked up my cameras and drove over to a local wood, like all us selfish photographers do. It had been a couple of years since I’d been to these woods which used to be a favourite haunt for me and the dogs, but my daughter now lives the other side of Royston so it’s a bit of a stretch for the those walks. The wood itself is a local playground now cluttered with wooden camps and teepee’s, but I made a beeline to a little cluster of silver birch only to find many of them have been blow over or felled. The mist was thinning in the woods so I headed to the outskirts where it was still thick and I knew of a few out lying trees. I have to admit wandering round these trees my memories of Oscar came flooding back, it’s been 4 months now since he passed but the loss is still quite raw. I photographed this beech before well into winter and this little skirt of leaves was a bright rusty red, today it had just started to turn. It’s weird how quick the leave change colour once they start and in an instant they fall. When we left the North East the trees were still green but changing and in Bristol then Royston they were greener still. Eleven days later I return home to most of the trees are bare of course we’ve had storm Babet to help them along the way and I bet Ciaran is now doing the same, if not worse to the south.
View of sunrise down Striding Edge from Helvellyn with Red Tarn to the lower left. A 3am start whilst on holiday for a nighttime climb up Helvellyn for several hours (3rd highest point in England @950m) with my awesome wife. We had the summit to ourselves and whilst I dashed about taking pictures my better half had the tea and bacon butties on the go for a sunrise breakfast sat right next to the trig point. That's an awesome memory - hope you like the picture, thanks for looking!