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The Black Hole is located just to the south of Craster on the way to Cullernose Point on the coastline in Northumberland. The sea was relatively calm today despite the blustery wind so my hope of large waves crashing over the rocks were dashed. The lengthy sunrise colours made up for it.
Went out after work with Ivor to hopefully catch a sunrise at Seaham. We also arranged to meet Olly and Jason there who had travelled up from Leeds. Weather was dreadful, heavy snow as we drove to Seaham. Once we got to chemical beach we huddled beside the stack to shelter from the sleet that was coming down now. Then we got lucky and had a break in the clouds and sleet so we dashed to the wheels and started shooting. I waded in to the sea but with the stormy weather it was quite fiesty so this shot was taken as a wave receded after coming to the top of My thighs, cold icy water in My wellies. I really need a pair of waders LOL!
Adter some heavy rain last evening, the sun broke through so @ 8.45pm I dashed out for a shot of it highlighting the tops of my trees. no rainbow unfortunately
The Western Pacific Heritage Locomotive leads UP Train MKCAT 21 out of town at 10th Street on the UP KC Metro Sub., about to hit the Falls City Sub. for the trip to Atchison. The engine came in this morning on a work train from Texas and almost immediately left town on this move.
The wife and I were grabbing lunch at Pigwich near the west end of Neff as they surprised us and pulled out of the yard. We got our food and dashed to the Kansas Side for a shot.
Locomotive: UP 1983
9-21-17
Kansas City, MO
May. Spring is one of my four favourite seasons, the time of flowers, foraging and hayfever. Spring offers the promise of much, often to be dashed on the sharp rocks of reality, but there ya go. Part of a larger project, as ever. Eventually to be released through the website below:
www.facebook.com/matrobinsonphoto
www.twitter.com/matrobinsonphoto
My intention for the afternoon was to have an explore of the Hole of Horcum, having only ever stopped off at the viewpoint before, but it soon became apparent that there is very little to shoot there. So I dashed back to the road, having remembered how I liked the look of some photos of the cliffs above the North York Moors railway from some blog post I'd read a while ago and found a path heading north towards that.
Having shot some more classy and dramatic landscape images, as the sun set I couldn't resist a simple one down Newton Dale.
I dashed along this back alley, changing lenses as I moved, when I spotted this from a main street in Mongkok.
Ouch, lol. Well I asked for it! (Excuse my hairy hand!) Annual open day at Barry Buddon MOD camp, with its assorted habitats. All the local natural history groups enjoy their day of exploring on this special site. Clegs are always numerous there and since I accepted that being bitten was inevitable, specially when standing still trying to capture various insect shots, I decided I would follow some of my flickr contacts examples and take a shot of it feeding. I'd previously experienced being "stabbed" and I guess I thought that would be pretty much it, but NO, it was so much more! A sensation of a stab, followed by a mini slash, ok a bit painful. I thought once the mouthparts were inserted, I wouldn't feel anything, but actually I was beginning to think she had struck a major artery! Ok, quick half dozen shots with DSLR, but not easy one handed, since it was my left hand she had chosen. Glutton for punishment, just to ensure I had a record of the event, I also fished my trust Optio W10 from my pocket and dashed off a few shots with it too. Ooooh, still feeling the discomfort (got to be honest, it was sore, but I've felt worse). However trying to dislodge her was a different matter altogether! Would she let go? I didn't want to kill her, so after gently trying to brush her off unsuccessfully, I finally managed to slide a pond rush under her body and virtually had to lever her out. What a grip. How we laughed!!!
I was driving down a quiet street with bushland at the end of it, and suddenly spotted this group. They all dashed under bushes, but while I got the camera ready, they decided all was well and came out on the grass again. There were at least eight in total, possibly more.
Whitetail Deer, Yearling
West Bend, Wisconsin
As I walked on this trail, a yearling walked up from the river and stood in front of me. We spent some time looking at each other, until, the yearling dashed off as quickly as it appeared.
Had to kill some time waiting while the car was serviced, so I dashed to the Read Rock Garden to see what on offer for this snowy spring. MANY blossoms!
I'm not sure what this is exactly. There was a lot of it, but I didn't see a reference on their web site or a sign in the garden...
Update: It was categorized as a late spring flower on the Reader Rock Garden... These are Primula elatior (Oxlip Primrose)
OK, I took a gamble with this one. I just got set up in the middle of a quiet road, ready to take a long exposure shot, thinking it would be typical for a car to come along now. Guess what? I held on for as long as I dared, hoping that the camera would have finished before I had to move, but in the end I just had to pick up the camera and move to the pavement while the shutter was still open. Turned out quite nicely though, I think! I like the difference between the "dashed" lines of light from the presumably fluorescent streetlights and the solid line of the headlight.
173/366: 2016
Well, this is a change for me. Whilst wondering what I could conjure up for today's pic I was pegging the washing out...on a rare sunny day...when I noticed this hover fly on the allium, dashed in for my camera which fortunately still had my macro lens on from yesterday, and luckily this little guy was still around. He landed right near this annoying little beetle though and my editing skills aren't such that I could get rid of it although I did try but wasn't happy with the results.
After catching the moon rising over Saltburn I dashed to Guisborough to catch it through the Piory arch before it got to high in the sky.
bar harbor maine. acadia national park. some ship setting out to sea. when looking at the picture I´m always reminded of a song I like.
play crack the sky: www.youtube.com/watch?v=pVJWe9Tj6mU
We sent out the SOS call.
It was a quarter past four in the morning when the storm broke our second anchor line.
Four months at sea, four months of calm seas to be pounded in the shallows off the tip of Montauk Point.
They call them rogues, they travel fast and alone.
One-hundred-foot faces of God's good ocean gone wrong.
What they call love is a risk, cause you will always get hit out of nowhere by some wave and end up on your own.
The hole in the hull defied the crews attempts to bail us out.
And flooded the engines and radio and half buried bow.
Your tongue is a rudder.
It steers the whole ship.
Sends your words past your lips or keeps them safe behind your teeth.
But the wrong words will strand you.
Come off course while you sleep.
Sweep your boat out to sea or dashed to bits on the reef.
The vessel groans the ocean pressures its frame.
To the port I see the lighthouse through the sleet and rain.
And I wish for one more day to give my love and repay debts.
But the morning finds our bodies washed up thirty miles west.
They say that the captain stays fast with the ship through still and storm.
But this ain't the Dakota, and the water is cold.
We won't have to fight for long.
This is the end.
This story's old but it goes on and on until we disappear.
Calm me and let me taste the salt you breathed while you were underneath.
I am the one who haunts your dreams of mountains sunk below the sea.
I spoke the words but never gave a thought to what they all could mean.
I know that this is what you want.
A funeral keeps both of us apart.
You know that you are not alone.
Need you like water in my lungs.
This is the end.
music and lyrics by brand new
"Watching huge flocks of Snow Geese swirl down from the sky, amid a cacophony of honking, is a little like standing inside a snow globe. These loud, white-and-black geese can cover the ground in a snowy blanket as they eat their way across fallow cornfields or wetlands. Among them, you might see a dark form with a white head—a color variant called the “Blue Goose.” Snow Geese have skyrocketed in numbers and are now among the most abundant waterfowl on the continent.
The dark color of the blue morph Snow Goose is controlled by a single gene, with dark being partially dominant over white. If a pure dark goose mates with a white goose, the offspring will all be dark (possibly with white bellies). If two white geese mate, they have only white offspring. If two dark geese mate, they will have mostly dark offspring, but might have a few white ones too." From AllAboutBirds.
Yesterday, 12 October 2021, I stayed home in the morning to wait for a landscaper who had arranged to come and look at my tiny backyard late morning and give me an estimate for putting down desperately needed new grass that I want putting down from fence to fence. A last minute phone call let me know that he had been called out on something urgent, so had to cancel So, I got ready as fast as I could and dashed out east of the city in hopes of finding the Snow Geese that people have been reporting. I was in luck, though the maybe 300 or so birds were a long way off. I don't often go out looking for birds that are reported, but I thought it would be nice to see some Snow Geese, that I rarely see. Not a good spot for parking/pulling over, but I was either the only person there or just one other. These really are beautiful birds - and very vocal. I managed to take one video of them noisily in flight, taken from inside my car and looking across the passenger seat. Not the best video, as I kept getting the edge of the door included. However, it was so windy that I stayed inside.
After spending some time watching these beautiful, migrating birds, I drove a few mainly familiar roads before heading home. Just enough time to find a few, previously photographed barns.
A Gemini 1 Weevil snuck out on the 19! I was too trapped to chase it though, and instead it came to me xD When the bus ended up the first vehicle at the traffic lights, I dashed forward so hard I actually slipped and fell flat, right in front of passing cab as well O.o
Well but I just got up like a shot zombie and got this baddie anyway. Another 19 working ticked off it is then! :-)
Also note the curtailed 243 behind.
By the time I got my camera and tripod sorted, and dashed across the road, the light on the cloud over the mountain had faded, but still, pretty good as sunrises go.
Following a tip off, I dashed across to Bicester, Oxfordshire to cover an interesting rail replacement job operated by Vale Coaches and Z&S International using deckers normally used only on schools.
A pleasant surprise was this former Dublin Volvo Olympian 99-D-506, now T61NWL, seen here arriving at Bicester North Station for a journey to Aylesbury Vale Parkway Station.
It was subbed or a low floor decker after this trip so got there just in time.
The Lake Worth Playhouse occupies the former Oakley Theatre, the oldest building on the register of the Art Deco Society of Palm Beach County. It was constructed by Lucien and Clarence Oakley, two brothers who came to South Florida from Illinois on the wave of a movie mania sweeping the country in the early 1920s. Their dream was to build a movie palace and vaudeville house.
The theatre first opened its doors on November 3, 1924 with local newspapers proudly touting its $150,000 cost – a very high price at the start of the Great Depression. Opening night patrons were treated to a showing of a silent movie based on the Broadway play Welcome Stranger. The new $10,000 Wurlitzer pipe organ (with built-in piano) played in concert for the first time that night and a five-piece orchestra from Fort Lauderdale played for the two performances.
On September 16, 1928, a devastating hurricane ripped through the area, virtually demolishing the Oakley Theatre. But the tenacious brothers quickly rebuilt and reopened the theatre on January 10, 1929. Their dreams were ultimately dashed when the full weight of the Depression struck South Florida, and they lost ownership of the theatre for good.
Over the years, the theatre changed names and ownership many times, showing art films, mainstream films and, later, blue movies. But no one was able to keep the film house afloat, and the theatre was finally shut down.
On December 1, 1953, the Lake Worth Playhouse was incorporated by a group of Lake Worth citizens. The earliest seasons featured four productions a year in the auditorium of the old Lake Worth City Hall. Despite the long stairway climb to the non-air-conditioned third-floor performance space, audiences came out to support the organization. Most of the early performances sold out. The first play produced by the fledgling organization was Springtime for Henry.
In October 1975 the Lake Worth Playhouse purchased the Oakley Theatre building for $60,000 and began much-needed renovations with an additional $15,000 Bicentennial grant. The first production of the Lake Worth Playhouse in its new home was The Last of Mrs. Lincoln, chosen to fulfill stipulations of the federal Bicentennial grant.
Today, the Playhouse is proud to offer a variety of mainstream and alternative programming, both live and on film. The Playhouse also offers educational programs for adults and children, and community outreach initiatives that bring cultural programs into the neighborhoods of underserved youth, and also make theatre available free of charge for disadvantaged citizens in the community.
The Lake Worth Playhouse is a 501c3 nonprofit community theatre with a never-be-dark policy. Year-round programming includes award-winning dramas, comedies, musicals, area premieres, Broadway favorites, children’s shows, international ballets and operas in cinema, live concert series and alternative programming.
In addition to its main stage theatrical fare, the Playhouse presents daily independent and foreign films in the Stonzek Theatre, an intimate black-box style theatre equipped with a large viewing screen and high-definition projection.
Credit for the data above is given to the following websites:
www.lakeworthplayhouse.org/welcome/playhouse_history/
www.pbcgov.org/papa/Asps/PropertyDetail/PropertyDetail.as...
© All Rights Reserved - you may not use this image in any form without my prior permission.
I'd dashed over from Narrowdale to try to get to Peaseland Rocks before the early mists dissipated.Got there a bit too late, however more than compensated by bumping into Paul Newcombe
And when the flying is flown and the heart’s
a useless sliver in a glacier and the gown
hangs still as meat in a locker and eyesight
is dashed-down glass and the mouth rust-
stoppered, will some twinge still pass between us,
still some fledgling pledge?
From Winged Purposes by Dean Young
During a quick lunchtime photo reckie, I dashed into the Queen's House to check out the likelihood of capturing some images of these historic stairs. (The first centrally unsupported helical staircase built in England.) I quickly fired off several frames to check and apologised to the Japanese tourist who was trying to sort out his camera settings. They deserve having a better image published than this and I do intend to return with sufficient time to do them justice.
They are also known for an image capturing a ghost/ghosts climbing the stairs: www.theblackvault.com/casefiles/tulip-staircase-ghost/#
{Thurrock Camera Club 2018-19 DPI comp 4 (Premier)
score 8.5/10}
_FX39615px
All Rights Reserved © 2018 Frederick Roll ~ fjroll.com
Please do not use this image without prior permission
Having just hit a large pot hole on my way to work I stopped to check my tyres by pulling across a large driveway. On the verge to the right I noticed some gorgeous snowdrops - the first I've seen this year.
Of course I couldn't resist grabbing my camera and crouching down to get a few shots for the 366. I jumped out of my skin as a furious voice yelled "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
The rather ferocious owner of the house thought I had a trowel rather than a camera in hand and was understandably furious! Once I turned round with my camera and explained, she dashed through the huge iron gates and came back with a large clump of snowdrops for my own garden - a kind gesture and a quick turnaround of events!
366-2024-01-30
A rickety sign I found on Main St in Ridgway, Elk County, Pennsylvania.
Traveled two hours north for work today. Overcast dashed my hopes and dreams, but I managed to get this one shot.
I had planned to shoot sunset and twilight from Baker Beach, but just after I took this photo, about 5 minutes before sunset, the fog rolled in and the foghorns started blaring. Pea soup. I noticed, however, that the fog was thin above me, so I packed up my gear, dashed back to my car, and jammed across the bridge up to the Headlands. What a sight! Undulating fog out to the horizon, highlighted in pinks and purples. A natural masterpiece. Unfortunately, by the time I reached my desired vantage point, most of the sunset light was gone. A beautiful violet twilight remained, however, and I was happy to get this.
Two 4 hr sessions with the river Gwash Ospreys in Rutland. Both were pm . We had booked well in advance as it is very popular. 1st session our excitement was dashed due to the good old english climate, it could not have been more gloomy. We had one dive from the Osprey in the photo before we ran out of camera settings. ( no where near enough speed to freeze the action ) 2nd day conditions had much improved by the afternoon after a wet morning. Everything was perfect for the photo, plenty of shutter speed etc and so we waited! sadly it was to be a no show, very disappointing. So for our efforts we had one dive in 8 hrs, and one chaotic attempt at a photo, just a shame it missed the fish and we could not get the best from the cameras. Will return soon!
After an afternoon walking up in Northumberland we arrived home quite tired from our outing. So thinking of heading out with the camera was pretty low on the agenda until I noticed the sky looking rather interesting as we got home, so after a quick snack I dashed back out & headed for Great Ayton hoping that the sunset would hang around long enough for me to get there. I picked up my photography buddy John on route & we just managed to trek up to this point in time to catch the last rays of sunset over Roseberry Topping in the distance.
Settings :-
Aperture f22, ISO 100, 17mm, 1.6 Seconds
Lee 0.45 & 0.6GNHD, & 0.6GNDS Filters.
This tiny grainy underexposed image of the crescent moon is remarkable in one respect--the timing. Fifty-three summers ago, on television "LIVE FROM THE MOON," I had just watched Neil Armstrong's first steps at the base of the ladder at Tranquility Base. At 15, I grabbed my first serious camera and dashed to the driveway. From my northern Ohio vantage point, the moon was low in the west. I positioned myself to catch it through a break among trees and released the shutter. I dashed back inside to watch Buzz Aldrin climb down to the surface.
The moon's image is tiny, about a quarter millimeter in diameter. My first telephoto lens was still a few months in the future, and I had exposed a 35 mm frame of Ektachrome using the camera's original 55 mm lens at f1.8, 1/250 of a second. Because Ektachrome is a direct-positive film, the slide I rephotographed today (17 July 2022) is the very piece of film exposed at that magic moment in 1969.
We arrived at the famous Parangtritis sand dunes (the only one of its kind in Indonesia) only to be greeted by damp sand and a very overcast sky. We spent some time shooting and making the most of a bad situation when out of the blue, a local appeared on the scene. Half-jokingly, I asked him if he had a horse, and to my surprise he really returned with one in tow a few minutes later!
As we continued, we started to notice large and magnificent storm clouds gathering on the horizon. We quickly fired off a few frames and dashed off, barely making it back to the car before the heavens opened up. Another instance of how everything miraculously came together!
Found this growing near us recently. Dashed out between showers for a quick grab shot.
Thanks for looking.
Here's my album for this year: flic.kr/s/aHskzGbt4P
Last year's is here: flic.kr/s/aHskPxovML
A plain nosed UP GEVO leads a double stack up the center track at Elmhurst. This dashed all hopes of the detouring CZ from being on the center.
While on a short hike in the Sierra foothills, I happened upon butterflies flitting about in a tiny wildflower patch, so I dashed to the car to grab my telephoto and capture some springtime images.
Standing in the garden this morning there was a flurry of activity and the sound of a panicked family of Song Thrushes. I first assumed a Sparrowhawk had dashed through, but then I noticed a tail sticking out of a very thick Viburnam shrub and saw a juvenile Kestrel plucking away at one! This is the first time I have seen a Kestrel catch a bird like this, in dense growth, as they far more often hunt over fields and open ground.
Saw the snow and dashed out with the gear to see what I could get. The Dartmoor ponies on Cleadon Hills came to my rescuse.
**..Once Upon A Time...there were 2 hunters and a Unicorn**
One day it happened that two men with long bows rode through her forest, hunting for deer. The unicorn followed them, moving so warily that not even the horses knew she was near. The sight of men filled her with an old, slow, strange mixture of tenderness and terror. She never let one see her if she could help it, but she liked to watch them ride by and hear them talking.
"I mislike the feel of this forest," the elder of the two hunters grumbled. "Creatures that live in a unicorn's wood learn a little magic of their own in time, mainly concerned with disappearing. We'll find no game here."
"Unicorns are long gone," the second man said. "If, indeed, they ever were. This is a forest like any other."
"Then why do the leaves never fall here, or the snow? I tell you, there is one unicorn left in the world — good luck to the lonely old thing, I say — and as long as it lives in this forest, there won't be a hunter takes so much as a titmouse home at his saddle. Ride on, ride on, you'll see. I know their ways, unicorns."
"From books," answered the other. "Only from books and tales and songs. Not in the reign of three kings has there been even a whisper of a unicorn seen in this country or any other. You know no more about unicorns than I do, for I've read the same books and heard the same stories, and I've never seen one either."
The first hunter was silent for a time, and the second whistled sourly to himself. Then the first said, "My great-grandmother saw a unicorn once. She used to tell me about it when I was little."
"Oh, indeed? And did she capture it with a golden bridle?"
"No. She didn't have one. You don't have to have a golden bridle to catch a unicorn; that part's the fairy tale. You need only to be pure of heart."
"Yes, yes." The younger man chuckled. "Did she ride her unicorn, then? Bareback, under the trees, like a nymph in the early days of the world?"
"My great-grandmother was afraid of large animals," said the first hunter. "She didn't ride it, but she sat very still, and the unicorn put its head in her lap and fell asleep. My great-grandmother never moved till it woke."
"What did it look like? Pliny describes the unicorn as being very ferocious, similar in the rest of its body to a horse, with the head of a deer, the feet of an elephant, the tail of a bear; a deep, bellowing voice, and a single black horn, two cubits in length. And the Chinese —"
"My great-grandmother said only that the unicorn had a good smell. She never could abide the smell of any beast, even a cat or a cow, let alone a wild thing. But she loved the smell of the unicorn. She began to cry once, telling me about it. Of course, she was a very old woman then, and cried at anything that reminded her of her youth."
"Let's turn around and hunt somewhere else," the second hunter said abruptly. The unicorn stepped softly into a thicket as they turned their horses, and took up the trail only when they were well ahead of her once more. The men rode in silence until they were nearing the edge of the forest, when the second hunter asked quietly, "Why did they go away, do you think? If there ever were such things."
"Who knows? Times change. Would you call this age a good one for unicorns?"
"No, but I wonder if any man before us ever thought his time a good time for unicorns. And it seems to me now that I have heard stories — but I was sleepy with wine, or I was thinking of something else. Well, no matter. There's light enough yet to hunt, if we hurry. Come!"
They broke out of the woods, kicked their horses to a gallop, and dashed away. But before they were out of sight, the first hunter looked back over his shoulder and called, just as though he could see the unicorn standing in shadow, "Stay where you are, poor beast. This is no world for you. Stay in your forest, and keep your trees green and your friends long-lived. Pay no mind to young girls, for they never become anything more than silly old women. And good luck to you."
- Hunter scene in The Last Unicorn tale -
Credits : lostseattle.com/?p=728
2024 Neonate 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. Photograph taken by Nick Dobbs in Dorset under license as part of an official survey 11-09-2024
"I was planning on spending the morning digging holes in the backyard then laying around licking my private parts, but this damn suit really messes with my routine."
Image imagined in MidJourney AI and finished with Topaz Studio and Lightroom Classic.
www.facebook.com/matrobinsonphoto
One from last Wednesday as the snow and clag started to clear and I dashed up the Shawl to get a view over Wensleydale.
With the York Christmas lights being switched on tonight, more snow forecast and me finally allowing myself some Christmas music... it's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas.
Heard a familiar thwack, thwack, thwack, of rotor blades. Grabbed the camera, and dashed outside, just managed to get this shot as it popped out from behind the trees.
Yesterday was the first sunny day for a while - supposedly the first of a few but now the only one in this spell!
Normally I would have dashed off to try and see a black hairstreak but I was seeing a friend for much of the day so that was not possible as it is a long journey.
Instead late afternoon I visited my local reserve hoping to see dragonflies and butterflies.
My meadow of choice was so overgrown that the 'grass' was neck high and I could not even see the ponds till almost in them. In fact I only found 4 of the 5 for certain and none had a dragonfly.
I was surprised to see 2 of these birds. It is only the second time I have seen them in Nottingham and though I was unable to get near I was pleased to get a shot.
||Mission 1.1B||
Protector-312
Rank: ARC Sergeant
Nickname: Shogun
253rd legion, Pride of Mandalore
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
//An explosion.
Screams.
Blasterfire.
Death.
The war had only begun weeks ago, on the hellhole of geonosis. The losses we suffered there were horrendous, entire platoons wiped off the face of the planet. We weren't ready then, and we weren't ready now.
Rhen Var was one of the first planets subjected to the CIS blitzkreig of the outer rim. We had been stationed on that frozen rock to assist in the evacuation of civilians, providing refuge, or so we thought.
Doors slid shut, as the final civilian stepped onboard. Engines roared and the transport hovered above the landing platform engaging in a swift glide through the lower atmosphere. All was going as planned. Humming of engines. Near silence.
Suddenly, a series of beeps. The pilot glanced at his screen as the cabin lights went red. A barrage blaster fire. A glass shattering explosion. Screams. A plummet. Trails of smoke following the bird as it fell cut through the skyline. drawing closer and closer. Then it made contact. The hull scraped against the platform, grinding it’s stomach into shrapnel, killing everyone onboard. Scraping and screaming could have been heard for miles. Troopers, still on the landing pad, crushed to death.
Then, near silence. The only sound was the crackle of fire in the wind. Not a single survivor. The quiet was only broken by the humming of an HMP gunship hovering above the platform. Ratcheted joints emerged from the underbelly of the craft, dropping several squads of Cold assault battle droids onto the devastated pad. A “clang” of their feet as they landed. Then a silent march into bravo base, slaughtering anyone in their path.
Another humm. Another bird slicing through the skyline, breaking the mountains behind it. Doors slide open. Men hop down. More feet on the ground. Clone feet.
Shogun’s squadron consisted of five men. Killi, krit, longshot,and blunt. Shogun had been bred apart from his clone brethren on Kamino as a part of the 253rd elite legion, a unique group of protector class arc troopers trained to think more freely, but still withhold a strong sense of family. But family was not what shogun felt then. These troopers were his brothers, his blood, his heart, but not his family.
The blast doors to bravo base were wide open. Killi entered first, rifle in hand, silently scanning the area for any sign of droids. All he found were bodies.
“All… all clear sergeant.”
Shogun stepped in and stared down the hallway. His vision landed on the melted visor of a downed soldier and into his lifeless, dead eyes. He then looked down the halway, only to find more of the same. Burn marks, limbs, Death.
“Are those… lightsaber wounds?”
Shogun glanced at krit, but gave no response.
He gestured with his hands. They moved in. gliding through the corridors, moving behind and around any cover they could find. Down endless hallways, weaving around each other like laces on a shoe. Another raise of the arm. A sudden halt.
Two sentry units. Cold assault battle droids. Used in arctic climates, designed to kill. nearly Twice the size of a b2. Armed with heavy blaster rifles. A challenge at best.
Shogun raised a fist. Placed his hand on his blade. He charged.
He dashed towards the lumbering contraption, drawing his blade as he ran. It’s legs were practically immoble with all the weight they had to bear. The arms were a different story. A fist swung through the air, only to be met by a beskar blade, getting sliced through like a virbo knife on thala butter. A turn, then a katana through the droid’s chest. Longshot fired a single blastershot, shredding straight through the second droid’s photoreceptor. Two distinct “clangs!” The droids fell.
More blaster fire. Shogun glanced down the corridor, only to be greeted by squad incoming sentries. “Krif.”
The troopers rushed down through another blast door, Firing behind as they ran. It was clear. Bravo base was lost. Shogun pressed his comlink.
“Sir, bravo base is lost! I repeat, we are being overrun!”
“Elaborate.”
“It’s gone sir, everyone inside is dead!”
“What? That’s- that isn’t possible.”
“We need evac immediately!”
“...”
“Sir? Come in sir!”
“Relay your coordinates.”//
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Riley dashed between the barns and hurried across the yard to the broodmare barn. She quickly pulled her phone out of her pocket and looked at the most recent text: “Babeh time!”, from Keira the owner of the very pregnant mare, Grand. She huffed a loud breath, wiping her brow as she noticed Keira, the owner of the mare standing beside the mare’s stall. “Did I miss it? Tell me I didn’t miss it!” she huffed a breath, wiping her brow as she hurried to the stall and peered inside. Grand, the rich bay mare was laying on the soft bedding. No foal as of yet. Keira reassured the teenager that the foal would be arriving soon, and she couldn’t wait! She held her phone up close the stall’s bars--not wanting to miss a single moment! “You got this Grand!” she softly cheered with a bright, gleaming smile as she waited in anticipation of the latest EE arrival.
Congratulations, Keira!
Come check out the newest arrival:
A regular location for taking photos at. I cross this point twice on bicycle commuting days.
Note that some red lights appear as a dashed line. These are LED rear lights that derive their tail lamp illumination setting via pulse width modulation control (they are turned on/off at a high frequency). The LEDs are operated 'full on' when used as a brake light.
Further reading here:
e2e.ti.com/blogs_/b/powerhouse/archive/2016/08/26/led-bri...
October Rust
by Patricia A Boudreau
Lost in silence, sitting here
remembering
the first gold-green of early spring.
So sweet the breeze,
so soft the days of misty bliss,
of memories.
The birth of total trust.
Into the heat, of summer's sun,
the sands of time strewn on a beach
that held the moon so long,
eternity held out a hand
to all who fell
under the spell
of silvery star dust.
But dreamers waken,
broken spells lie dashed
like fragile shells,
the souls they held now vanished,
the bits and pieces fall
then call upon a wintry wind
that swirls to fate's slow waltz,
and dance alone in moonlight
now stained October rust.
The eastbound California Zephyr races east now on main #2 east of Afton. The train ran main #1 out of Creston to get around 2 coal trains waiting at CP 3811. The dispatcher pretty much shut down the railroad the last hour and a half to allow a route for Amtrak to swing from main to main around traffic. Now that Amtrak has dashed by here at Afton, the BNSF will go back to railroading. When Amtrak's westbound #5 gets into the picture after 8pm tonight the operations will be halted again for awhile. A large ABS section of double track is still left from Creston to near Galesburg. This operating system limits the amount of flexibility the dispatcher has to prioritize trains. The BNSF has put in a few CTC crossovers to allow for better flexibility, but large shutdown windows come to allow hotshots to stay moving.
Love the BN coal hopper, probably getting to be less and less of those in service!