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Capturing this image was no walk in the park! Cape Leeuwin, famously the most south-westerly mainland point of Australia, is where the Southern Ocean and Indian Ocean are said to meet. With no landmass to the south, the fierce southern winds batter this area relentlessly—this night was no exception, with gusts hitting around 70 km/h. Even the sturdiest rig would struggle, and the foreground caught a touch of motion blur from the chaos...especially the grass.
Adding to the challenge, the lighthouse is surrounded by fencing far from the structure, and it closes at 5 PM, leaving no chance to get closer after hours. It is lso left unattended, so, my plan to snag permission for a post-5 PM shoot was dashed.
I hunkered down behind some rocks for a bit of relief from the wind and lucked upon some wildflowers in the foreground. The lighthouse may look tiny from this distance and angle, but I promise—it’s there! 😉
The final image is a 4x6 vertical panorama, and while it wasn’t easy, the effort was worth it to capture this wild and beautiful spot.
EXIF
Nikon D5500 (fullpectrum mod) - Nikon D5200 - 24mm f/1.4
Sky: 12 RGB x 90s at f/2.8 - 20 halpha x 60s, f/1.8
Ground: 12 shots at f/10
This is what happens when you spook a Muntjac in a hedgerow. Shirley was walking ahead of me and unbeknown to her came across one of these diminutive Muntjac Deer hunkered down in the hedge. Result, it scarpered and shot across the field in front of me.
This one almost caught me by surprise as it dashed away from Shirl and across a farmers field near Hickling Broad.
We had some airline points that were going to be expiring and free hotel stays that were burning a hole in our pocket, so we dashed off to Victoria, British Columbia for a couple of days. No big plans, just to 'wallow' in a place that, in Canadian terms, is a little tropical.
They say the best camera is the one you have with you. In this case it was my trusty phone again so all you pixel poppers out there, don't zoom in too closely (and yes I mean you G!)
Had just popped to Tesco which is situated right by the canal and as I came out I noticed a fabulous mist over the surrounding fields so I dumped the shopping in the car and dashed to the canal with my phone and hey presto!
Well, not quite, it actually took a rather involved amount of fartnarkling to get it to look half decent and I will admit to replacing the sky as the one on my phone was completely burnt out, but you get the general idea.
I have absolutely no idea how I ended up with this shot but I can't complain with another split-box tractor.
I had only set out expecting a moving shot through platform 1 as was usual, a shot which I'd already got before with 37025. RTT was throwing a bit of a wobbly and showing it still at Ulverston, and with no movement after the two units either way, I wasn't even hopeful that'd it'd turn up. However after about half an hour past it's booked time, we heard a few toots from the carriage sidings, but of course assuming it was a unit as we were expecting the 37s coming up northbound. Anyway, it rounded the corner into platform 2 and I absolutely sh*t myself when I saw it was the 37s as I thought they'd just go straight back southbound non-stop. I dashed to the front thinking 116 was going to lead off, but when the driver turned the lights off and got out it was a mad panic and dash down the other end to see if 37025 was going to lead off to Askam as planned. Thankfully, it stopped for just about long enough to rig the pod up and fire a few shots off before he got the green-light. God only knows how it got to the carriage sidings unbeknownst to even RTT data and RailCam maps.
I did wait for it coming back, but that was going up for nearly 11pm by that point and I'd been locked inside the station and as it didn't stop anyway on the return, I hopped the fence and came home, albeit a very happy chappy.
Anyway, here is 37025 about to lead off to Askam with the monthly 1Q82 Carlisle HW-Bpool North test train with 37116 on the rear. By this point it was running about 31 late, only getting later as the journey continued.
Hi Everyone, there is in every woman's closet those few pieces of wardrobe that has those unique effects on us which cause us to feel a certain way, to see ourselves in a certain way. I for one have more than I should have lol, but a woman's tastes can never be denied. I had visited Second Life Uber event and discovered one of those pieces and bought it on the spot, a white fake fur coat. As soon as I returned home, I pulled out my favorite blue latex ensemble and purse and dashed over to //, for some photos. I felt like a high priced call girl in a gritty 90's New York, or a Mobster's girl friend. lol Please enjoy and thank you for allowing me to share with you! xoxo
at least probably. Deadly poisonous it and its cousins are called the Destroying Angels and I can see why - it's gorgeous in almost all points of its fruiting. This one is about 5 inches high and my plan to photograph it through its fruiting cycle were dashed because something ate it right after I shot this. Bummer.
Find out more about why animals can eat these, but we can't here -
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This image was shot back in mid-February 2020 and it feels like a lifetime ago now.
I, along with six lovely clients, went aurora chasing at night during my Lofoten workshop. After a couple of no shows earlier in the workshop, a kp4 aurora was predicted so we ventured down to a popular local hotspot, Skagsanden Beach. It is a location that allowed us to park up in the free car park and sit in the minibus in comfort until the lights showed at which point we dashed out and onto the beach to capture the lights while the rocks on the beach reflected in the water.
Oh, how I wish I was back there right now. Still, I have a couple of places left for my November 2021 workshop, so I shall look forward to returning then.
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We can get thick lake fog for weeks. It is beautiful, but can also get a little old after awhile. The sun was trying to break through, so I dashed out with the camera. :-)
This shot was taken as the "Spirit of Tasmania I" came over the horizon. It was sailing for its home port of Devonport. I had been taking photographs at the lighthouse, but hopes of some nice sunset shots as the ship entered the Mersey River were soon dashed. We had been waiting to meet my sister-in-law who was returning from Melbourne, but as soon as they had mobile range she called to say the ferry was at least 90 minutes behind schedule. Now it would be interesting.
You see the Spirits of Tasmania cruise at 30 knots (around 60 km/h). In the fading light I knew it would be impossible to get a clear shot, especially with my Tamron 150-600 lens extended to the full 600mm. With a tripod mandatory in such light, getting the ship in frame was difficult. In the end I was happy to catch the colour and the lights as the ship steamed towards us in the twilight.
And so too home. After A fun, and improvised evening in Northumberland I started my way back to the car. My focus had been towards the main Cheviot hills but I was now facing the other direction I couldn’t resist the sky so I got the camera back out of the bag, ramped up the iso and took this snap. After all the faffing around with tripod and filters etc, I’m quite pleased with this handheld photo, it’s a nothing vista snap but for me it’s the end of a good evening. It started with my main plans dashed as I was hoping to use a forestry road to get to the high crags I was aiming for. I knew Thrunton woods was still off limits due to the damage by Storm Arwen last year but I hoped a road on the outer edge of the wood would be quiet, no such luck. I’d really underestimated how bad this wood got hit by the storm and 9 months later it was still total devastation, the forestry workers were out in force on my hopefully quiet track to the top, so I turned around and thought again. This is when my adventures started and hopefully the photos I did spend a bit of time on are worthy of posting in the future, we’ll see.
I got my 80D back from Canon (broken shutter mechanism) after four months (Covid shut the repair facility) and dashed down to the Ottawa River to catch the late day sun. Happily, a very young Eastern Phoebe was hunting insects low in the branches right beside the River, and after grabbing and wasting something it popped onto a perch in the sun. Because Phoebes are among the first of the migrants heading north in the spring, I have already had a lot of fun securing images of these cooperative birds. Like most juvenile Phoebes this bird was completely unimpressed by my presence, and continued to hunt and return to perches all around me. That is the open River serving as a kind of background.
Non boilered 47322 is in town, well that's how I remember her now she goes by the name of Rail Express and is a Class 57 number 002, here she is arriving at Tauntons Fairwater Yard passing under the A3027 with a short rake of HOBC wagons. She was working the 6Z82 1057 West Ealing to Fairwater Yard.
I decided to cover this move as it seemed unusual and I thought the DRS compass livery would contrast nicely with the Network Rail Livery. Additionally the NMT was in town with the two Colas 67s which were due to arrive at my location 6 minutes apart, in reality the 67s arrived at pretty much the same time and my well planned photo shoot became a dashed scramble and I ended up with a dodgy picture of the 67s and this picture of 57002.
On a cloudy day i took a few shots of these then dashed back to my car for my R1 flash hoping they would stay but alas they did not. Though i am not sure if a little fillflash would have produced a better picture
Whilst sitting in my garden I was aware of a large flying insect landing in the flower bed.
I went over to investigate and found what turned out to be a Mint Leaf Beetle, glistening in the sunlight.
I dashed indoors to grab a camera, hoping it would not fly off before I returned. Fortunately I managed this shot before it did.
The mint leaf beetle, Chrysolina herbacea is a native, iridescent green beetle that feeds on the leaves of the mint family in the south of the UK. Both the adults and their fat, black larvae feast on the foliage. (Source: Gardenersworld.com)
On a spring-like day we were lulled into thinking that spring was ready to pounce. Unfortunately an Arctic Outflow wind has dashed our hopes. Maybe in another couple of weeks we can try again!!!
The lamb I had in shot took no notice of the sign and dashed away to mum for an urgent drink.
This quiet road runs from the village of Appleton le Moors to the hamlet Low Askew in the North Yorkshire Moors National Park. At this point the name changes from Hamley Lane to Self Gardens (which seems a strange name) before changing again to Howdale Lane and finally to Birkhead Lane all within 1 1/2 miles.
There are no buildings on the road only the entrance tracks to 2 farms situated well away from the road. One of which is Mill Farm and the track is to the right (off shot) at this point but through the gate you can see AppletonGrange Equestrian Centre and Hamley Hagg
#191
Another bit of fun for Sliders Sunday, entirely cooked using Affinity on the iPaddle. :)
This is a picture of flint pebbles on a path, there is a link to the original in the first comment. Naturally, it’s been mangled and, after in spite of all the fun, I still quite like the modern abstract art look at the end. It was mainly done with layer blending and a bit of Liquifying. As it didn’t really take long to do it feels a bit like cheating…
- I first duplicated the image layer and flipped it both ways, blending it back with Difference. This gives it symmetry (most noticeable around the edges in the final result.
- I then corrected the contrast and colour a bit and merged the result into a new layer.
- Next, I used the Liquify tool on the merged result, dragging things around while blending this (liquified merge) layer with the previous ones using Lighten blend mode. I've not really tried this before - 't were fun 't were :) I kept the liquify effect away from the edges and used a swirly motion for the distortion to give it a sense of something in a frame.
- After that I used the Lighting filter to add a bit of texture: two white spotlights top and bottom aiming them at the middle, with a few pixels of texture added (this adds a slight embossed edges effect to the shapes in the image).
- Finally a bit of adjusting tone and colour along with a light vignette.
I’m willing to accept cheques or cash ;)
Thanks for taking the time to look. I hope you enjoy the twurdled image. May your slides be lurid and fun… :)
Milford Sound, Fiordland National Park. New Zealand
After a big morning on the Hooker Valley Trail at Mt Cook Damien and I made the 6hr drive to Milford Sound only to discover that our hopes and dreams for a sunset that day and sunrise the next morning had been dashed. The Homer Tunnel was closed that afternoon due to a landslide.
Fortunately we had allocated a second day for Milford Sound to really make sure we had time to shoot it as best we could.
This place really has a mystical and almost magical feel to it. Anyone who has been fortunate enough to visit Milford Sound will agree that the drive in really feels like a journey through middle earth.
That afternoon we were blessed with clear skies - something incredibly rare in a location dubbed as one of the wettest in the world. I haven't yet had the chance to look at my clear sky shots as this one was taken the next morning under a typically grey Milford Sound sky.
Despite the dreary weather I actually like the feel of this photo - it seems to suit my memories of our time in what some call the 7th wonder of the world.
Press "L" to view large on black and, as always, thanks for looking!
A portrait of the sunset scene at the Crow Stones in the Peak District.
A fabulous evening out with John Bleakley on the remote moorland above the Derwent Valley. I had wanted to visit this location for quite a while and agreed to meet up and make the journey after spending the earlier part of the day on my own in the Alport Valley a few miles West of here.
The weathered gritstone rocks here are just enthralling to wander around. Just wished we had been a bit luckier with the sunset, which was dashed at the end by the clouds on the horizon.
It wasn’t exactly the most auspicious of starts to the day I was going to end on a bus heading into the Sinai Desert under the stars. After several days of what I’m going to euphemistically refer to as a galloping case of the Pharaoh's Revenge, I wasn’t at all certain about my plans for later. For a moment, imagine you’re a fly on the wall of our apartment, and you might see the pair of us sitting on the bed, needles in our arms and drip bags taped to the wall above our heads. I was on a glucose concoction, Ali was being topped up with saline. Sweet and savoury - a bit like us. I’d already told the doctor I was feeling much better today, although I hadn’t eaten for twenty-four hours and had missed breakfast in my search for medical assistance for Ali, who was still feeling a bit pale and wan. But he offered to take my blood pressure anyway, and then went pale himself when it was even lower than Ali’s. But one thing he said stayed in my mind - there was no medical reason for me not to go on the trip later. “But you must eat,” he said as he left us. I would have done so if I hadn’t been chasing about looking for him during the morning sitting.
I asked Ali at least four times. By now it was too late for a refund, but it wasn't a huge amount of money and there was still time to rebook that trip for the middle of the week. But she was insistent. Maybe she’d taken out a policy that I wasn’t aware of and was hoping to pay for another twenty years of holidays in the event of my demise later on. She wasn’t feeling great, but she promised she’d still be alive when I returned from Mount Sinai the next afternoon. Whether I would be or not remained a question yet to be answered. But despite the ravages of the last few days, I was feeling strong - and this was one of those once in a lifetime opportunities that I didn’t want to miss. So after receiving her reassurances for a fifth time, I decided I would get on that bus tonight. What could possibly go wrong? We went to lunch as the doctor prescribed, and ignored all of the exciting fare in favour of boiled rice and sauteed vegetables. Delicious. I might stress at this point of the story that Ali never had the slightest intention of going. While she would have enjoyed the hike, the prospect of a long bus journey had put her off the idea of joining me, regardless of how she may or may not feel.
Later, after a similarly dull carb laden calorie building supper, I boarded a large comfortable looking coach. “There’s a toilet at the rear,” announced the tour guide. Nobody could find it. Perhaps he meant a hundred and sixty miles past the back of the bus at the hotel. Thankfully the troubles that had dogged me since Wednesday were now a thing of the past. Any hopes of being able to spread out in my double seat were quickly dashed when we pulled up at a service station just outside the city. As the door opened, a stream of young fit looking people climbed aboard, filling every available seat. In the row in front of me, a Polish couple set up camp, her continentally beautiful, dark and sulky, glaring at me for daring to adjust the curtain. Him short and sallow, wearing sunglasses throughout the night, head completely shaven and decorated in a sprawling black web of tattoos. His seat tilted backwards, swallowing the space in front of their compatriot sitting next to me, while I was treated to a long journey with his slumbering bald head uncomfortably close to my face. As if I needed reminding that this really was an adventure for younger types than me. When we arrived later, they chain smoked all the way up the mountain and down again as if cigarettes were going out of fashion. She pouted in between puffs with a sang-froid that wouldn’t have looked out of place on the face of a supermodel who’d just had her contract with Christian Dior cancelled.
Minutes after filling the bus we passed through the first of several police checkpoints, an official marching down the aisle checking passports. Happily, everyone seemed to have remembered to bring them. The tour guide had collected photocopies of them all, inexplicably handing me one of the three he’d made at our hotel. It wasn’t even mine. I passed it to its equally confused looking owner. The purpose of the exercise never was clear. We waited for a police escort to take us across the desert and into the mountains. I tried to sleep, my head juddering against the softly vibrating window pane. Maybe I managed half an hour where my thoughts were lost to the shifting shapes that inhabit the edges of dreams, but that was about as close as I got to going under. At least I wasn’t suffering with my earlier complaint anymore.
Five and a half gruelling hours after getting onto the bus, and two hundred and seventy kilometres from the border checkpoint, we crept along the last stretch of tarmac into St Katherine’s and parked near the monastery, where our cheerful driver grinned and flexed his bicep in solidarity as I descended into the small hours at the base of Mount Sinai. We were told he’d driven this route no less than six hundred times over the years, depositing thousands of adventurous tourists onto the trail, but here was where his journey ended. For me, the young Polish couple and the other fifty odd souls on the bus, this was just the start of our own adventure. For the next few hours, this group of people from all over the world, thrown together by fate, were my new tribe. “Group Zachariah,” named after the tour guide who'd brought us here and now handed us into the care of three wiry young Bedouins who would lead us up the mountain. ”Group Zachariah!” we would hear their cries bouncing over the dark mountain walls. “Group Zachariah!” those of us who still had sufficient energy would chime in response to let them know we weren't dead yet. Perhaps this is how religions start. Maybe one day in the distant future, pilgrims will read this nonsense and hike up the mountain looking for the lost tribe of Zachariah. But they should know here that, while Moses may well have spent forty days and forty nights in deep thought on the summit, Zachariah kipped on the coach with the driver while his tribe followed the guides up the mountain and into the darkest depths of night.
Jay is a bit of a wuzz. He has a new peanut log custom made so he can come in and out quickly to grab peanuts.
It's right in front of the pole he's on and he did eventually land and grab one peanut then dashed off.
He will learn he's safe.
My friend down the lane does fire a shot to scare them off so the reluctance is understandable.
All the other birds were less reluctant.
The rain was pouring down all day and the rugged disc golf course by the park was entirely deserted, so we let loose and had some FUN!!!! Tidda's digestion has made a rapid recovery on her new diet and we needed to celebrate!
With her off leash where she normally can't be, we explored all the soggy trails up and down the hillsides, stepping over earthworms and ducking under rain-laden branches. Soon Tidda's belly was thickly covered in mud. She dashed through the wet bushes like through a car wash, raced up and down steep inclines and happily jumped over obstacles. I was laughing and unguarded in a public space, and we shared a wonderful spontaneous joy together!
Our hope for a colorful sunset at Fisher Towers seemed to be dashed by clouds on the western horizon, but a very late appearance of blazingly warm light from the setting sun provided a very brief light show. The Cutler and Moenkopi layers that make up the Fisher Towers, including The Titan shown here, take on a brilliant magenta at last light, more so than most other rock types on the Colorado Plateau. We had positioned ourselves to watch the nearly full moon rise above The Titan, which we hoped would occur near sunset, but it was much darker when it finally made its appearance.
Chico's dreams of playing baseball for our local team were dashed when he realized that he would never be able to pick up the bat.
This area was once part of a beach community that was lost to shoreline erosion. By the 1970s many of the homes that were here were falling into the lake.
The erosion still continues as the currents here keep the sand heading south. If you take a look at the current Google maps, you can see that the dashed lines indicating one of the historic footpaths is actually now partly out in the lake.
Sand is periodically dredged from down south by Waukegan harbor and then brought back up north to replenish the shoreline here.
It was a busy day in my rural office. I grabbed a late lunch and dashed to photograph the barn in between meetings. TBH I literally didn't have time to line up the shot the way I would have liked.
It rained all day yesterday, but during a break I dashed out in the yard to take some pictures of the rain-beaded rose bushes.
Happy Gorgeously Green Thursday!
Explore, May 7, 2009
Agent Royal dashed through the grand, dimly lit station, his heart pounding as he gripped his silenced weapon.
The echoes of footsteps closed in around him, shadows flickering across the ornate walls.
He had one shot to end this—before he once again gets sucked into his never ending time travel vortex.
He took a deep breath, narrowed his eyes, and aimed. He had chased him through too many Quantam Leaps to fail now...
The world slowed down as he fired, a brilliant flash lighting up the station's timeless elegance. In that moment, agent Royal felt the weight of justice in his hands.
The bullet tore through the air, and for an instant, victory seemed within reach. This was his last stand.... or was it?.....
See?? It was 50 degrees when I was there at the Lake. It IS spring! 😊
I saw a big batch of mackerel sky coming across the Lake at sundown last night, so I dashed down to the Lake...a 4 minute drive. I'm glad I did.
It was raining, so dashed out to take this photo, and didn't make it as far as the beach.
New South Wales, Australia.
121 pictures in 2021/97 Taken on the longest / shortest day. Monday, June 21 at 1.32pm, is the winter solstice... the shortest day of the year and longest night of the year here in the Southern Hemisphere.
This view of east wall of Wind River Canyon was taken from the highway (US 20) south of Johnson Draw which enters the canyon opposite side of the road. The top of the canyon wall is the Permian Phosphoria Formation (Pp). The cliff beneath the Phosphoria is the Pennsylvanian Tensleep Sandstone (Pt). The slope former beneath the Tensleep cliff is the Pennsylvanian Amsden Formation (Pa). The cliff beneath the slope formed by the Amsden is the Mississippian Madison Limestone (Mm). A unconformity marks the contact between the Madison and the Amsden and is shown by the white dashed /dotted line. An unconformity is a boundary between two rock bodies that represents a gap in the rock record caused by a period of erosion or a pause in sediment accumulation, followed by the deposition of sediments anew. In Wind River Canyon, the top of the Madison Formation is an erosional surface that displays some relief. This is apparent if one traces the top of the Madison Cliff. (See the unannotated photo in comments)
Annotations after Steele and Fisher, www.geowyo.com/wind-river-canyon-part-2.html
This newborn fawn was on the edge of the trail as I approached. The mother was out of view to the right but quickly bounded past to the left and hid in the brush. The baby didn't know quite what to do. It wobble around. At one point it started toward me but then realized something wasn't right and dashed off to the right as seen in the picture.
White River Marsh State Wildlife Area, Green Lake County, Wisconsin
MY404662
After my afternoon exploring the area around Alport Castles I met up with John Bleakley at the head of the Derwent Valley, to make the climb up to the remote Crow Stones in the hope of a sunset.
We had plenty of time to take in the sights and stopped at the site of the Icelandic Air Crash near the summit of the heather clad ridge. We then made our way along the summit in glorious light. The wildlife was something to behold as we strolled through the purple heather. We saw Yellowhammers, Red Kite and a Hobby as we approached Crow Stones Edge.
We eventually reached this spot with the Crow Stones and the Crow Pinnacle and as you can see the low side light made for some nice images. Sadly though, our chance of a wondrous sunset was dashed with a large weather front blocking the sun on the Western horizon. We still hung around and got some nice shots after sunset, before making our way back down.
Ana tossed her belongings hastily into her hat box and suitcase, shoving clothes and trinkets into place without much care. The morning rush left her little time for neatness. Her music blared from the record player, the beat sharp and loud, a deliberate wall of sound to keep Maddy from barging in with questions or complaints. The grey phantom toad, her peculiar companion, sat balanced on the spinning vinyl itself, blinking slowly as it turned with the record, watching her frenzy with eerie calm.
She huffed as she knelt to close her suitcase, bouncing on top of it until the latch finally snapped shut. The hat box wobbled in her hand, threatening to spill open with the last-minute things she had thrown inside—scarves, quills, even a half-finished sketch rolled haphazardly. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to smooth it down, though the effort was mostly wasted.
“Right, that’s it,” she muttered to herself, voice half drowned by the music.
Snatching her suitcase handle, she cut the record short with a sharp flick, sending the phantom toad leaping off the vinyl with a disgruntled croak. It clung stubbornly to the edge of her hat box as if it refused to be left behind. Ana rolled her eyes but allowed it, too pressed for time to argue with the creature.
The clock on the wall reminded her how little time she had left. Her heart gave a nervous leap. Gathering everything, she dashed out the door, the echo of her shoes on the floorboards matching the quick rhythm of her pulse.
The morning air hit her like a rush of cold water as she stepped outside, weaving through the busy street with her luggage bumping along behind her. Each step brought her closer to King’s Cross Station, closer to the hidden barrier between platforms nine and ten. She could already imagine the scarlet steam engine waiting beyond, the crowd of witches and wizards bustling, owls hooting in their cages, the mingled smell of smoke and sweets in the air.
Platform Nine and Three-Quarters awaited, and Ana was determined not to miss it.
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Taken for Mischief Managed Roleplay. Mischief Managed is a Harry Potter Roleplay sim that invites students from ages 11 - 18 and adults of all ages to join and experience the Magic of the Wizarding World. For more information check out www.mischiefmanagedsl.net
The kings of England repeatedly sought to extend their rule north of the border into Scotland. The death of Margaret, the queen of Scotland, in 1290 gave Edward I of England the chance to take over the country, but his intentions were dashed with a major defeat at the hands of William Wallace on September 11, 1297, at the Battle of Stirling Bridge. The original wooden bridge was set on fire and destroyed in the battle, this bridge today was probably built in the mid 1400s and remains one of the best medieval masonry bridges in Scotland. The Wallace Monument can be seen clearly in the background.
OK, so I finally made the journey! My long wait did pay off over my legendary bad luck. I saw the food being delivered and they all land, but they were couple of hundred meters away. So, I dashed for it the most part, then hunched down and walked more, finally crawled the rest 20 meters or so. By that time, they were almost done with the unfortunate dove.
Peregrine Falcon trio.
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Press 'l' (small-L) to see in full size and best quality.
Press 'Esc' to go back.
While I was out without the right lens, I saw this little Australasian Grebe was paying us a welcome return visit, so I dashed home and put the long, long lens set-up on the Canon and went back for a closer look. Happy it was still there with its mate!
On Thursday I had a cracking afternoon meeting up with James Grant to hit a couple of Peak District gems. Our first destination was Fairbrook waterfall just off the Snake Pass (image to come later) and our final destination was the Salt Cellar on Derwent Edge. We arrived at the Salt Cellar about 20 minutes before the sunset to be met with some lovely rolling clouds with a clear section just above the horizon which we knew would let the sun drop through, we could also see a bank of rain heading fast in our direction so it was a race between the two which would arrive first. We took a couple of shots from the other side of the Salt Cellar than dashed over to the opposite side where I took this shot just as the first heavy drops of rain started to fall. We got soaked on the walk back but well worth it when you get dramatic conditions like these.(Olympus EM-1 mkii 7-14mm f/2.8 pro 1/2 f/6.3 @ 9mm Kase Wolverine GND-R 1.2 (4 stop) reverse grad)
The Battery Point Lighthouse was first lit on December 10, 1856. It is built on a small island connected to the shore by an isthmus that is crossable only at low tide. The Del Norte Historical Society operates the lighthouse and its museum. It is open to the public when low tide permits.
I dashed across the isthmus as the sunset light was fading and managed to catch an image of the Lighthouse and the windswept tree beside it before quickly returning to shore.
By a freezing saturday of december, as a thin snow layer was covering the Brandenburg countryside, I was trying to hide behind a dunghill in order to approach a large group of common cranes gathering on a field. Suddenly, I realized that there was a roe deer only twenty meters from me.
I expected it to run away as soon as it saw me, yet this did not happen at all. Instead, the roe deer peacefully looked in my direction, then after a couple of minutes restarted to graze. My mate could also shoot him without triggering a flight.
As we were observing this individual, a ring-necked pheasant suddently appeared, a couple of meters in front of the deer, its red face popping out of the groves at times . Finally, suddenly emerging from a grove, a sparrowhawk dashed towards a shrub just ten meters from me, made a sudden u-turn and came back to its take-off point.
After a few minutes, I decided to go out of my hide, triggering the flight of all this zoo. At that time, I realized that not only one but four roe deers where actually wandering around the dunghill, along with a couple of pheasants ..
Adrienne knew the bedroom was a dead end, but it was her only hope.
She dashed down the hall, her pulse pounding, and slammed the door behind her, a futile attempt to delay the inevitable.
A heartbeat later, the door exploded inward, ripped from its hinges. One of the men walked in, fists clenched. His eyes locking on Adrienne’s eyes and emitting a low growling sound.
Adrienne was ready. Her fingers closed around the .45 automatic from her nightstand. Without hesitation, she fired four rounds into his chest.
He crumpled—but instead of lying still, his body convulsed, twisting and writhing in grotesque fashion. Flesh melted away, revealing a scaly, reptilian form beneath.
The second man lunged. Adrienne twisted away, leveling the gun and squeezing the trigger three more times. He collapsed, just like the first.
Breathless, she staggered back into the corner. The pistol was empty. Her hands trembled. She was frozen, paralyzed with terror.
She had only half believed Kayla but it was true! These men, they aren't human!
Then the bald man entered, stepping over the bodies with deliberate calm. His piercing gaze pinned her in place. “Brave,” he said with a smirk. “But it’s over.”
He seized her wrist, yanking her close, and effortlessly plucked the useless weapon from her grasp then smacked her across the face.
“We have plans for you.”
He turned to the fourth man. “Tie her up tight. Search her for the device and take her to the truck.”
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You can view Quantum Fold episodes in order from the beginning in her album titled, Quantum Fold:
www.flickr.com/photos/199076397@N02/albums/72177720326169...
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Another Amish scene (FYI - I will run out soon!)
The clean-up here is proceeding - but many remain without power and the church is still sending out plates into the community. I wanted to keep in the loop, so I dashed this one off. Thank you so much for the well-wishes and concern!
On the Yukon River approaching Dawson City where many potential prospectors were met with treacherous waters and dashed hopes.
Well everything was going to plan and then it all went frantic and nearly so horribly wrong. On arrival we moved into the adjacent field standing behind the stone wall which separated us from the two horses in the field where I normally go for this shot. They were inquisitive at first but then moved away munching on the grass. Another photographer turns up with a four legged friend and the horses must have got a smell of the dog. Just as we heard the Brit in the distance they came over to where we were stood and were dashing around in front of us standing by the wall blocking the view. It was a frantic few moments trying to get rid of them and keep calm and watching for the Brit. The two horses dashed across again in our shot and I had to quickly move the camera higher than I wanted and with my good friend Michael moving the horses on we just got away with it. How we came home with anything from here is beyond me.
Wednesday 15th July 2020 The Fellsman 70000 'Britannia' at Greengates.