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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 :-)
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!
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!
For once a bit of snow coincided with me being in Yorkshire so I dashed out this morning to Brimham Rocks to catch it before it all melted. All a bit wet and rushed - hard working in drizzly sleet - but wonderful to be up there and glad to get the odd pic. This is a stitched pano from 3 frames
One sees photos from all round the world. Magnificent mountains, mountainous seas, grand canyons, raging rivers and wide valleys. But when all things are considered few places have the depth of beauty you find in Britain between the showers and the sunshine. This is Chelmorton in Derbyshire. The ancient feudal narrow field systems survive here where the land was split up into ever narrowing parcels as families grew and expanded.
I should have dashed back from Magpie Mine to make the most of the scurrying light, but I headed on to Miller's Dale and Chee Dale and disappeared into the weeds, only catching this scene on my way home, after the light had faded.
The home of the Coleman family and their mustard empire now an educational trust and only pebble-dashed house I have ever liked!
There was a big, big moon this week. Woke up in the middle of the night and there it was through one of our bedroom windows. Dashed for camera but was so tired I couldn't think how to set it up, so settled for semi-auto and cut the light back a full 3 stops. My post production gave it this van Goghian look.
Processing includes anti-shake.
Well this is not what it seems.
This was supposed to be my first time since 2008 to use the self-timer feature of my Nikon D3. I dashed over to strike a family pose, and Rocco, suddenly turned and seemingly kissed me on the lips.
A gentle reminder about copyright and intellectual property-
Ⓒ Cassidy Photography (All images in this Flickr portfolio)
A glimpse of life in Sydney, on a typical early evening at Circular Quay.
The Sirius is arriving with passengers from Mosman Bay whilst the Captain Cook cruiser is leaving on its evening harbour dinner cruise.
The Captain Cook vessel was travelling so fast it is slightly blurred, and I tried to fix this in Adobe Lightroom but clearly I need to learn a lot more about Lightroom. That has actually been today's mission, on Sunday 3rd January, 2020. I note that the Sirius passengers are keen on Quay time 'selfies'
Photographed from aboard the Pemulwuy ferry as it remained in the queue of ferries to dock at Circular Quay. For whatever reason the Sirius, which came up behind my ferry in the queue, dashed past to dock first. I am not sure what the ferry etiquette is.
My Canon EOS 5D Mk IV, with the Canon 16-35mm lens.
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I dashed round from Knabbs Bridge as the fog was stubbornly slow to lift, can anyone clone in DRS livery for me....? 37423 leads the way on 3S14 1116 Grimsby to Bridlington passing the lime works at Melton Ross. 6th November 2020.
His hopes for a better life were dashed when he didn't win on the scratch card, so it's back to the everyday drudgery of scraping a living from the earth :-)
There was a glimmer of brightness this morning so dashed off to Farmoor to get some more shots of the two birds hat have been there for some time.
Will I pray for him or should I pray for me? Should I lay my plight at God's feet and await divine intervention? Will God listen? Or does God care about one simple womans dashed hopes?
This morning I suddenly realised that it's been more than 2 weeks since I've taken a photo with a sun-star in it... so I quickly dashed out and shot one.
Have a blissful Sunday everyone! :)
YJ12GVR 1756 (formerly OS20) is seen on route W5 at Archway heading towards Harringay Superstores, as soon as I saw this on LVF, I dashed out the house to get the train, the DL-6 was running so got that down to Mile End, then found the Northern Line was closed on the Bank branch. Ended up on a 43 which averaged 25mph (BDE believe it or not) and got to Archway with minutes to spare!
I had a heavy weekend of editing and catching up after the wedding last week, but I dashed away for an hour of shooting out in the Gorge. I had no idea I'd find ice. I visited Ponytail, then noticed these beautiful ice-covered branches at the base of Horsetail on the way back down. So, so beautiful!
Blog post with more shots here.
Nikon 24-70 lens @ f/2.8
Since I was a 5 year old, I have always wanted to see the Northern Lights - Aurora Borealis, we had two nights worth of level 2, and I was already very happy to see
a childhood dream come true! However, what happened on the third night was well a truly unforgettable experience.
We were at the hotel ready for dinner, but I and Brens Photo dashed out, knowing our stomach's can wait, but the lights cant! As mentioned previously, many expletives came out,
A KP10 level aurora display was developing right in front of our eyes, this was going to be a very long and magical night!
A dream that well and truly came true, and I am counting the good fortune of being there at the right time and right place to see this, and one of my favourite constellations is in view too Orion The Hunter
with the gaseous nebula around the belt.
Lichen on a weeping cherry twig.
I was wondering whether I’d manage the Smile on Saturday group’s them One Single Drop this week. It was a busy time and a successful outcome was looking less and less likely…
The first attempt was Friday morning about half an hour after a downpour. Out I went. All the drops had dripped :(
Then the sun shone ...
And suddenly a bit later it started to rain again. Yey!!!
Abandoning work I dashed outside in the deluging wet and started clicking away for attempt number two…
I discovered three things from this exercise. First was that drops tend to drip just after you have got them lined up and focused but before you click the shutter.
Second was that it was a very good way for you, and your camera, and your lens to get really quite dreadfully thoroughly awfully wet. Very quickly.
Third was that I wasn’t really very good a droplet photography, well not handheld in the dying light of a wet afternoon sense of the genre.
Yesterday I went out in optimism; 53 shots later I retreated from the garden, unbowed but hopeful. Then this afternoon reviewed them on the big screen and disappointment bloomed. Of all the shots only a couple were worth working on. This was the best of the whole lot.
I found out the hard way that it’s tricky getting the background right and get the world in the drop to be something meaningful and in focus.
I also discovered that drops hang downwards! You’d think and a very ex-physicist would have known that intuitively lol. So my clever rotating of the camera so that the twig was strongly composed along a diagonal produced some very odd looking pictures :)
But I did think that the lichen looked a bit like rain hats...
Thank you for taking the time to look. I hope you enjoy the image from the warm dry comfort of your favourite chair :) Happy Smile on Saturday!!!
[Handheld in dull light; continuous autofocus, VR on with in-camera stabilisation.
Developed in Capture One mainly for colour correction.
Used a long slanting oval mask centred on the twig to de-emphasise and darken the surround.
Cropped so drop was on the thirds. Flipped horizontally as it gave a better visual flow through the image.
Warmed the colour temperature a bit.
Sharpened in Affinity Photo.
Sharpened with mix of Unsharp Mask, and High Pass/ Linear blend techniques.
Used steeper curves on the AB channels in LAB mode at reduced opacity (30%) to give a slight colour enhancement.
Hues shifted very slightly with an HSL layer to improve colour balance slightly.
Mild soft dark vignette and we’re done. Quite a lot of work to retrieve a reasonable look. Hope you enjoy it anyway :)]
All surviving architectural details; of this fine church date from the early 14th century, and it seems likely that it was rebuilt at this time by St. Augustine's Abbey as a new church, possibly on the site of a 12th Century original which was a wooden building.
It was built as a Chapel of ease to the larger church at Chislet.
During the 19th century there were no less than three restoration campaigns. The first in 1853 included the making of a new triple bell-cote over the west gable (3 new Whitechapel bells were provided). Then in 1859 repewing took place and 54 additional seats were created. Finally in 1884-5, 14 more seats were provided, and a new organ was put in. Externally the nave has been completely refaced in heavy knapped flint work; much repair was done in Bath stone. There is also quite a lot of pebble-dashed render at the east end.
MY THANKS TO ALL WHO VISIT AND COMMENT IT IS APPRECIATED
It's the twilight hour as Amtrak #6, the eastbound California Zephyr, emerges from Tunnel 1 of Union Pacific's Moffat Tunnel Subdivision on a crisp autumn evening. It's the final stretch of Colorado's Front Range for this edition of #6. Having left the tunnel district behind, the train is sliding down into Coal Creek Canyon before navigating Big 10 Curve enroute to Denver Union Station. Photographed on Wednesday, October 15, 2025, by Anthony Sandoval.
I spent the day on the Moffat and saw all the sights from Big 10 Curve to East Portal. Seeing it was wonderful, but a MofW work window from late morning to the evening dashed any chance of seeing the route at full strength. Aside from #6, #5 and the westbound Rocky Mountaineer, I watched two manifests navigate Big 10 Curve from afar. I arrived as they were taking the sidings at Rocky and Eiselle to meet #5 and the Mountaineer. A nice haul, but I have to go back for some of the Tunnel shots I was unable to attain.
When I bedded down in my tent for the night at Palouse Falls State Park, I was skeptical of a morning sunrise. But five minutes after tucking in, my tent walls began to stir as the wind kicked up; moments later the rain came down. That in itself seemed unusual for a relatively dry part of the state. Realizing that the storm could break and pass overnight, I set my alarm for a half hour prior to sunrise...
...and woke up about five minutes after sunrise. Snooze buttons are sometimes the bane of my existence. I readied myself in a hurry and dashed over the falls (a mere 10 seconds of dashing, as the campground sits neatly nearby) and managed a few shots before additional cloud cover moved in.
This shot is by no means perfect (look at all that messy flare to the left), but I still kind of like it. Taken with my Nikon FM on Fuji Velvia 50 film.
Physeter was a heck of a jumper. He was so good, he tried out for the 2016 Summer Olympics high jump. Unfortunately, on his last jump, he was speared by a weather vane while attempting to jump over a house. Another dream dashed!
Balboa Island, California 2016
What a very wet day! I'm having the outside of my house painted so it's not at all welcome. It did stop late afternoon though so I dashed out to take this.
Having been trying to get my P950 back into how it used to work. Several re-sets & got rid of some of the problems but not all. Dashed out last evening for a couple of garden shots to test. Only problem for me now is the review system seems tyo have changed & i want it back to full frame review.
the only Dahlia that has survived this year. It has been left in the ground for 8 years now non-stop
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Per una visione migliore, tasto “L”- For a better view press “L”
I took a wander around Dorset this evening, visiting Horton and Knowlton. It was quiet and the last of the suns rays were lovely to enjoy. Of course I took some photos but with clear skies, I was convinced it was time to pack up. Almost about to drive away and I saw these pink tones appearing in the sky. I dashed back out the car and set up again to capture these gorgeous pink tones of dusk. A perfect end to the evening.
What a great weekend its been - here's to the week ahead, whatever it may hold!
The sky looked like having some interesting sunset colours yesterday,so grabbed the camera and dashed to a local field to me.
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Death Valley, California
This was a crazy morning. we had first started out to the sand dunes when a storm and airborn sand pretty much turned us back the other way. We dashed over to the salt flats on the other side of the mountains in time for sunrise, with the storm off in the distance still. The foreground in this shot was still sheltered by the pre-dawn glow and shaded by the mountains behind us, while the sunrise just hit the mountains in the distance and illuminated them in orange. i think it made for a nice balance in this shot. when the sun hits the ground out here, everything goes solid white, so i was glad to capture the detail in the foreground during this very short lighting window.
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Male Smooth Snake (Coronella austriaca). The Smooth snake is the United Kingdom's rarest native reptile; it is totally harmless to man. In the UK, the Smooth snake is a specialist of heathland, and native populations can be found only in the south of England; in the counties of Dorset, Hampshire, Surrey and West Sussex. Like most snakes, the Smooth snake will eat almost anything that it can catch and swallow, however; they are mostly associated with a reptilian diet. Smooth snakes grow to a length of about 60-70cm (exceptionally up to 80cm), and appear slimmer than our other native snakes. The Smooth snake is so named because it lacks the central keels, or ridges on its scales, unlike our native Adder and Grass snake. This adaptation means that it is not as swift as our other snakes, but is well suited to navigating dense vegetation. Due to this name, the very smooth Slow worm is often misreported as being a Smooth snake. Exceptional individuals have reached an age of almost 30 years in the wild. Although usually considered mute, Smooth snakes can emit a quiet short hiss when stressed, which is usually associated with a strike or sudden jerk of the fore-body. They do not emit prolonged warning hisses like the Adder and Grass snake. The Smooth snake is usually of a matt colouration; usually a dark grey or dull brown, although brick-red specimens are not uncommon. The dark, almost black dorsal markings are not immediately apparent, and are arranged along the back, from neck to tail, as pairs of dots, bars or dashed lines. There is usually a second pair of lines, one of each running along the flanks of the body, although these are frequently even less obvious than the dorsal markings.The top of the head always features a large dark heart-shaped marking, which is sometimes described as a 'butterfly'. There is a characteristic dark line on the side of the head, that runs across the eye. Unlike the venomous Adder, the Smooth snake has round pupils. Copy courtesy of Surrey ARG. Specimen and handled photographed by Nick Dobbs in Dorset under license as part of an official survey 02-06-2023
The Parish Church of Saint Mary
Bungay is a small pretty market town on the River Waveney in the English county of Suffolk, close to the border with Norfolk.
The church of St Mary sits in the town centre close to the market place and was originally built as the church to a Benedictine priory in the late 12th century. The main part of the present church dates from the 14th–15th century. The priory was closed in 1536 as a result of the dissolution of the monasteries and St Mary's became a parish church.
A large part of the priory building was destroyed by the 'Great Bungay Fire' of 1688, the fire destroyed a significant portion of the town, including many houses and buildings.
Ruins of the priory can be see today in the churchyard of St Mary, including a delicately carved 13th century doorway.
The church is now redundant and in the care of the Churches Conservation Trust.
A local legend states that in August 1577 during a thunderstorm an apparition appeared, consisting of a black Hell Hound which dashed around the church, attacking members of the congregation. It then suddenly disappeared and re-appeared in Holy Trinity Church, Blythburgh 12 miles away, injuring members of the congregation there.