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discovered this Gem while looking for spots i could get some Neon shots of.
will post a lm when i get back!
I dashed out in my dressing gown this morning to take a few photos and pick some fruit before the rain started. I couldn't resist the Verbena again - better bokeh this time and my favourite colour!
E is just learning her colours - she knows them all but the only one she can say is 'poiple' so everything is purple (including mummy) LOL!
On the Yukon River approaching Dawson City where many potential prospectors were met with treacherous waters and dashed hopes.
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.
Rose infrante (RM) - Un'insolita presenza di Rose nella Fontana della Barcaccia a Piazza di Spagna mi ha incuriosito ed affascinato allo stesso tempo.
Di: Stefano Innocenzi
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Rose dashed (RM) - An unusual presence of Rose in the Fountain of Four Rivers in Piazza di Spagna I was intrigued and fascinated at the same time.
By: Stefano Innocenzi
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.
The squirrel apparently did not realize that the chipmunk was on the stump, and immediately retreated as the chipmunk dashed away.
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
As I was mentioning to Mark, over on his blog ....I saw a big bumblebee on a blossom... dashed out with my camera...but.........he was already gone. Missed him. I haven't seen many bees this season .. hope more show up. With less traffic, less smog and less happening outside, you would think there would be more of them.
so....I just took some pics of the pretty ornamental crabapple blossoms instead.....
The Flickr Lounge
Weekly theme~Birds, Butterflies and Flowers
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.
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!
Ahhh! You may remember I met Magnus, Murdo and Mac a few days ago and Murdo was talking about going down to the Fintry Inn for a pint with the rest of the lads...all ten of them. Well, this morning I was surprised to see there were just seven of them on the hillside, and as I approached the others advanced as if eager to tell me more. It was Malcolm, Malkie apparently, who came to the front, actually a little sheepishly. I climbed the gate and went to them, arms out as if requesting an explanation. They responded with a low, "Ummmm!", puzzled expressions on their faces as if searching for words. And then quite suddenly it all spilled out, from Mingus of all bullocks.
Well, it seems they had all rushed the fence on the hillside, trampling the barbed wire into the damp earth, and rushed at a canter down to the pub. A great night ensued, raucous fun as they attempted the open-mic cowraoke session, fuelled with Magner's Irish hard cider. They had got through gallons. Five of them were just belting out "Beauty and the Beast", Celine Dion and Peabo Bryson (well, it had been Melville's choice) when farmer Fraser came in with three bouncy Young Farmers. It was hard to know who was more shocked: Fraser farmer or The Dirty Macs, as the bullocks had playfully named their singing group. The bullocks stopped singing and moving to the music and it became evident they had only been miming as the vocals continued without them. All of a sudden they decided to bolt, straight through the bar, all ten of them. There was mayhem, tables and chairs tossed aside like a full on Pamplona bull run. Initially two of them wedged in the door before Magnus hit the back of them at full pelt, catapulting Malkie into the road outside. The other's skittered after him out of the pub, hooves, flailing and skidding on the slate floor. Mingus, let himself go in the melee, and fresh slurry greased their rushed exit. But farmer Fraser pushed aside his young ladies at the bar and dived towards the door slamming it on Murdo's neck. He was trapped, and no matter how hard he tried, and bellowed, he couldn't get out.
Outside, there was only one thing to do for the seven brothers.....run! Run for the hills! And they took off at high speed up the road through the hamlet
Back in the Fintry, there was wild panic with three wild bullocks trapped in the bar. But Fraser and his young farmer helpers soon had all three wrestled to the floor. Jimmie from Northead Farm instinctively came up with the plan to reverse his Toyota Hilux and Ivor Williams stock trailer up to the pub door. The bullocks on the floor were released and all three suddenly dashed through the now re-opened pub door to find themselves shut in the trailer.
"So what became of Murdo, Magnus and Mac?" I asked.
"Dunno" said Mingus "We're all shitting ourselves wondering what's happened to them. They haven't showed up in the field yet, and farmer Fraser hasn't brought us any fresh hay or cattle nuts. We're all famished!"
I was taking a picture of something or other when I heard my husband exclaim "Whoa". I turned and saw this baby Green Iguana! Judging from its size, I don't think it was much more than 2yrs old.
I took this shot, but when I moved to get another angle, it took off...soooo fast, it was almost comical! (Have you ever seen what lizard legs look like as they're scurrying away?) It dashed into the nearby shrubs, and I waited a few for it to come back out, but it didn't.
This poor thing was probably someone's pet until it got a little older and it became obvious that they're very difficult to maintain...and downright dangerous as well. My understanding is that their teeth and tail are razor sharp.
Iguana wish you a Happy Gorgeous Green Thursday ;-)
I seem to be doing things in twos this week: two shots of birds running across the water to take off, followed by two close ups of sandpipers (and at least four more sets of two to come). There is no master plan; I am improvising.
For this Spotted Sandpiper at Lonetree Lake, I declined to lie in the muck. Look at that green stuff. It looks like algae but could be goose poop, of which there was lots in this location. So I found a flat, clean rock to sit on. I had a Black-necked Stilt in my sights and was hoping it would come in close; instead I received visits from this sandpiper, followed by a Willet. The sandpiper dashed by me quickly and all I did was track it and fire several bursts, hoping for the best. It wasn't until I went through the RAW files that I noticed its passenger - a tiny critter clinging to its lower bill. I guess that's one way to not get eaten!
Photographed at Lonetree Lake, Saskatchewan (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2021 James R. Page - all rights reserved.
Snapped on iPhone 6 because I'm an idiot and dashed outside to the beach without thinking to bring my SLR. Doh! But a lovely sunset.
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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Bergen, Norway
One of the main reasons I wanted to visit Bergen was to photograph these houses – Bryggen, a harbour district of Bergen. They are not the easiest of buildings to capture especially from the roadside due to all the table and chairs and bus stops right in front of them, so in my opinion, the other side of the harbour probably produces the better overall image.
As usual, by the last day I’m in panic mode thinking I’ve not quite got the shot I had in my mind’s eye. As fortune would have it we got seated at a window table for breakfast and behold I could see the houses directly across from me – perpendicular and perfect for architectural shots! Since we were getting picked up for the return trip to the airport in 90mins time (which didn’t turn up causing another panic but that’s another story) breakfast was a rushed affair for me and I dashed back to the room for my gear.
The hotel staff were very accommodating and unlocked the doors so I could shoot outside from the waterside quay that runs along the length of the hotel (Clarion Hotel Admiral if anyone’s planned on going to Bergen – highly recommended).
A hundred images later and I think I’ve got my shots.
After waiting for it to leave Pontiac light and planning on lighting it up coming north, those were dashed because I left later than I should have, and did not have time to set up anywhere. However, in a stroke of luck, BNSF 725 still in the Warhammer scheme stayed in the lead after spinning the power. After about a 90 minute wait, I finally lit it up under more favorable circumstances.
A little over two months ago I began a series on here documenting B09, the (on paper) daily coil train that has recently been using a set of SD40-2s for power after years of widecab GE garbage. I stopped posting soon after and focused on exploring the SCIH, but that was only as far as uploading was concerned. I've managed to make time for B09 nearly every weekend since I began, whether that proves I'm persistent or have no life whatsoever outside of work is up for debate, but regardless: where we left off!
An early October rendition of B09 heads back east, backlit against some late afternoon sun. Per the usual I had shot this guy around the Harbor Belt portion of the trip then chased it eastward once they had a clear shot to leave. What I didn't expect was to be caught by a gigantic manifest on the CN en route, and I was almost certain my chances of beating this guy anywhere were thrown out the window.
But alas, coils are quite heavy and SD40s are not the most powerful motors in the world. I made it to the east side of Gary, parked my car, and ran up a rather steep embankment to see if I could see any sign of them having passed, but a green signal gave me the reassurance that I had somehow beat them. So I dashed across the tracks very irresponsibly and here we are.
B09 heads east thru Gary with 41 loaded coil sleds, snaking stealthily thru the city. The rusted rail in the immediate foreground is actually the Virginia St. underpass - yes there is actually a street under there. And for distant observers, the long-abandoned Gary Union Station is seen looming directly behind the train. Most importantly though, I am pleased to say that this pair sounded as good as the smoke would make it out to be!
Storm clouds brewing over Sudbury Hall. I dashed outside to catch this lovely display of clouds and light. For a few brief moments the hall was lit by the low afternoon sun and the incoming rainclouds just looked awesome. All over in 2 minutes.
Only my second ever sighting of one of these guys, this Bush Stone Curlew was at the same location near Bordertown, very close to the main Adelaide - Melbourne highway! It was one of two that had dashed for cover as I got out of the car, but a little patient wait with me standing perfectly still made one of them feel safe to come out in the open again.
I was originally set up for a going-away shot at St Bees for this so you can imagine my surprise and disappointment when it turned up double-headed! Anyway thankfully I managed to jump it to Workington as it had just shy of an hour and a half's booked stop so I dashed round to Derwent Jn here where the light just about held on long enough for it; the grids making a spirited departure getting under way from it's stop.
Sometimes, you are surprised by what you find on your memory card! I dashed out in my slippers into the garden to capture an unexpected sunset on Friday and in my dash I slipped on the stone patio. Anyway, I processed the sunset image (which I posted on Flickr), which was very nice with a wonderfully colourful sky. But in slipping I must have accidentally activated the shutter and this was what I found on the memory card after I uploaded the sunset images.
I didn't bother looking at it at the time, but tidying up things this morning, I thought this is actually quite interesting. So here is a bonus abstract image, for which I take absolutely no credit!
I was sat in the Holiday Cottage last night, with the grey skies and forecast showing little prospect of a sunset. Then 45 minutes before the time of sunset a little light started to show in the gloom. I decided to nip back out and see what developed and went to the Elegug Stacks and Green Bridge of Wales, which were less than 10 minutes away across the Castlemartin Ranges.
It was pretty blustery and grey, meaning I had the place to myself, but as the clouds finally started to break up and let some colour and light in, it was clear that all the drama was actually behind me and the epic clifftop seascape was only going to stay grey!
So I looked around the vast clifftop expanse and the only feature worthy of interest was the little Flimston Chapel I had passed on the track on the way in here. So with the light disappearing and clouds building again quickly, I dashed back to the church just in time to capture this before the sun was eclipsed again by the fast moving clouds.
The light was spectacular for a few moments as the clouds parted and the colours were amazing. Hoping to get some more decent shots around here during the rest of my stay. This Medieval Chapel sits within the MoD Castlemartin Firing Ranges and can only be accessed during periods of non firing.
Nov '02 Pennyrock Wood has some lovely paths, Here with long shadows just before the sun dropped behind Loughrigg Fell.
The next shot was an embarrassing moment. I had been waiting for some walkers to appear, but as there were non about and only a minute or so to losing the light, I decided to use myself. I set off the self timer, dashed into the shot, then slowed to look like a natural walker. On turning round there were a couple standing by the tripod looking at me most oddly! ;o) The shot was rubbish too!
Fuji Sensia film. Nikon F2.
DSC05717-HDR_Lr9
It is late in the day after a cockpit windshield shattering resulted in what should have been a noon departure from Calgary into a more like 7:30pm departure. Hopes dashed that we would get to see anything this day, we still elected to follow the tracks instead of making a beeline for our destination of Lethbridge. It turned out to the the right move as we were able to catch this northbound freight passing the elevator in Brant, AB with a nice consist of CP, KCS Grey, KCSM Grey, and CPKC power. Sure would have been nice to be able to chase it all the way up from Kipp Yard. Especially with a cranky EOTD that limited them to 25mph...
Struggle after struggle, year after year
The atmosphere's a fine blend of ice, I'm almost stone cold dead
In a town called malice,
A whole street's belief in Sunday's roast beef
Gets dashed against the Co-op
To either cut down on beer or the kid's new gear
It's a big decision in a town called malice
~ Paul Weller, The Jam, A Town Called Malice
A shot from tonight's sunset at the fish quay . I seen the sky was looking canny so I dashed down the fish again. The rain clouds moved in just as the colour was starting . This shot was seconds before the rain after the rain that was it no colour .
Was only able to get one shot of this little Skipper as it dashed off immediately after I grabbed this shot. It would seem some Skippers are more cooperative than others.
My best guess for this little camera-shy butterfly is this is a Fiery Skipper.
Barely seen in the Children's Garden at Dauset Trails.
Seeing a patch of blue sky in the distance, I drove west to see if I could get this train in sun. At Lake Benton I was waiting to see if the sun would come out, and eventually it did. Excited, I could hear the train coming, I couldn't wait to get golden storm light with this train. Unfortunately, my hopes and dreams were dashed once the train appeared, the sun was completely gone a couple minutes, before once again behind the clouds. Easily one of the most frustrating moments I've had when railfanning. I guess on the bright side, an RCPE in daylight at Lake Benton is a blessing in itself, but to think what could have been...
Autumn is slowly beginning to turn into a hard done deal this year as the weather is not playing fair ball, so far I have had to date one day with good conditions on a scouting trip a few weeks back in the woodlands nearby. All the other trips have been either overcast, washed out, blown out or just a small glimpse of light. The weather end of summer was more like autumn to be honest but as they say beggars cannot be choosers.
The colours are now there but it looks like this weekend the weather forecast for Northern Germany is a bad one with rain and winds of up to 100 kmh banging across the county. So, by Monday probably most of the wonderful colours of Autumn or what’s left of it will be strewn across the dampened roads and woodland floors.
I still have some images to post as I was out and about when the weather did slightly play into my hands, and the one foggy day did produce a couple of keepers.
This image above was the morning where I was watching the sunrise from my kitchen window and quickly dashed out for an hour to capture some light. Wonderful colour still even if it is not quite the yellows and oranges I hoped for, but the scene I feel could make a good cover for a story telling book.
Summer was a challenge for me this year and now so is Autumn, but one thing I have learned in Landscape photography is, you just make the best of things. Accept it as it is and just look forward to what’s ahead. So, some images still to follow with an Autumn feel if very slight, and as for winter, bring it on. ;)
Decent sunset this evening so dashed up to Wainmans tower to catch the sunset. Think its worked okay
My friend was pretty excited to do so, until I convinced him he would be dashed against the rocks and swept down the brook over even more large and jagged rocks...
Joseph Howe Falls, Victoria Park, in Truro, Nova Scotia, Canada.
I am an admirer and frequent visitor to this area. However, on this day's visit my hopes for a sunlight view of the valley was dashed by rain and cloudyness. So, the next best thing was to attempt to capture some of the charm and mystic beauty of the valley from an out-of-the-way place. Lickskillet road was that place today. I tried to NOT over accentuate the grandeur of what I saw, rather I snapped a shot with my mind's eye and translated in processing what I saw and felt.
I have never seen such verdant green pastures and crops as I've seen in this valley. My interpretive self is in hyper-seeing mode! Truly an amazing place! If interested, learn more here:
The bird is actually flying out towards the Point. Very long distance shot and huge, huge crop, from the coast path below the YH.
I was staying at the YHA at Lizard Point, with the intention of trying to see and photograph Choughs if I could as well as a doing a bit of walking. At breakfast on the first morning after my arrival, I was sitting eating adjacent to the dining room window when a large number of Corvids appeared, swirling and performing aerobatics out high over the lawn and beyond the adjacent coast path. I realised some of the birds, perhaps 7-8, were in fact Choughs, having caught brief glimpses of long red beaks in the morning sunlight, amongst a mixed flock of Rooks and Jackdaws as well. I dashed out with my camera to see if I could get some shots. Unfortunately, the Choughs largely stayed at a distance like this one and I had little luck, though I got several other shots, nearer, but a bit close to the sun.
This was the only opportunity as the weather turned next day and photography was out of the question for the rest of my stay, though I did see a couple of Choughs feeding with a Rook on the grass by the toilets below the NT car park the next morning, got one shot before some idiot tourist scared them off!
Unfinished business.
Thanks for viewing and for your comments and faves
Lagagarbh Cottage, Glencoe, Scotland
Returning to my January Glencoe trip again and the most spectacular pre-sunrise sky I’ve seen there ……..and one of the best I’ve seen anywhere.
Given the weather the week I was up there together with sunrise times I had been going into breakfast as soon as the restaurant opened at 07:30. However, on this particular morning I looked out the window after waking up and my ‘sunrise colour’ warning siren was ringing slightly. Could there be a chance of some color?
By the time I was dressed and loaded the camera gear into my car the siren was ringing louder! I decided to see if I could take a later breakfast and luckily my request was granted. Breakfast worries resolved I set off to head towards Loch Ba and sunrise but, after a couple of miles, it looked like there was a band of cloud right on the horizon that might snuff the colour. Should I go on or turn around? Another half a mile later a layby appeared as if someone were giving me the answer so a quick U-turn later I was headed in the opposite direction racking my brains for a spot that might deliver the best chance of both a colourful sky and a good composition but I needed to be there within about 10mins. Not the easiest thing given the topography, road and the time constraint.
I suddenly recalled the A82 takes a nice curve near the Lagangarbh Hut so dashed to a nearby layby and dashed to get into position as the sky was starting to colour. My sirens were warning me I didn’t have long to get into position and I knew I needed to walk westwards along the side of the road to get a better angle. I therefore didn’t feel I had the time to find a bit of foreground interest so set up just the other side of the safety fence and started shooting.
10mins later I was a very happy Tog with a significant number of bracketed images on my memory card. I certainly haven’t had a sky like that in Glencoe before. Mission accomplished it was back to the Kingshouse Hotel and a very nice breakfast with the obligatory haggis on the menu….which I really like by the way.
I’ve posted two versions on purpose. One because it makes the Lagangarbh Hut more prominent and the other giving a better idea of the overall scene. And no, I’ve not had a funny turn with the colour sliders, that sky is real!
© All rights reserved to Steve Pellatt. Please do not use this image on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit written permission.
I've been so busy of late I haven't been out to do any landscape photography for what felt like an age, so when I had a spare few hours last night I dashed down to Rosebery Topping to check out the sunset and see how the heather was looking.
Well the heather was better than the sunset but I still got this shot that I like.
This is 2 shots taken in landscape mode and stitched together in PS.
Lee filters;
0.9 NDHG
Sunset 2
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All images are ©Paul Nelson.
www.paulnelsonphotography.co.uk
“one may spin, revolve, float, fly;
be dashed gainst rocks;
be washed ashore and be washed away again;
before journey’s end.” — R.D. Laing
“Our whole lives may reverberate with the experience “of being sucked in, drawn in, pulled in, dragged down; of being rescued, revived, succored, welcomed; of trying to get in, but being kept out; perishing through fatigue, exhaustion; frantic, helpless, impotent, etc.” Laing believes many of us suffer lasting effects from having our umbilical cords cut too soon, or even at all. “What ’s the harm in waiting?” he asks. He suggests our navels may be the very cores of our being, the source of ‘gut’ feelings. (Contemplating one’s navel, he implies, may thus be the most significant thing one can do.) Laing then asks an intriguing question: “If you were to die now and be reconceived tonight, which woman would you choose to spend the first nine month of your next lifetime inside of?”
Morris Wolfe
Essays, New & Selected | July 1976
Photo: The Legacy of R. D. Laing: An appraisal of his contemporary relevance
Please visit, www.flickr.com/groups/rd_laing_revisited/
I had an epic day yesterday. I thought I'd go down to the beach and try some driftwood sculptures. I made it onto the beach with a big sea running and the tide quite a. way under the cliffs. After trying to make a chair for a long exposure wave washed shot it slowly dawned on me that something was wrong. My chair kept getting washed away by bigger and bigger waves. It dawned on me that the tide must be coming in , not going out as I thought from previous visits. I quickly checked the tide times and realised high was at 16.30. I quickly dashed off to try and make it round the cut ioff point by the waterfall. As I approached I realised it may be too late, but I tried wading round, only to be knocked over by a big wave. My camera and tripod were under water for quit a while. Realising escape was not possible I calmed down and thought I'd planned for this scenario many times. I made it to a. recent rockfall and climbed well above the water. It meant I'd have to sit on the fall for about four hours , and hope there wasn't any rockfalls. It looked fairly stable above. All went well, even though the time took so long to pass, and I finally escaped the beach in the pitch dark, slipping and sliding over wet rocks, The Camera , needless to say isn't working, but that was the least of my worries.
This is a. watercolour sketch I'd done in lockdown, and I nearly joined him. I think all the disturbed nights and endless lonely days had affected my judgement :))) Knocked Down is by War On Drugs .
Flybe has now ceased trading and all flights from and to the UK operated by Flybe have been cancelled and will not be rescheduled.
28th January 2023
FlyBe had 7 active aircraft in its fleet operating to destinations in the UK, Geneva, and Amsterdam.
Another sad day in the airline industry, regional airline FlyBe.
My last night in Richmond, I stopped to shoot the traffic a bit from one of the overpasses on my way back to the hotel.
This image overlays the light trails from over 20 photos, as traffic was light. The dashed lines are a work crew that drove through.
DSCF2809
There was chaos everywhere. The buildings were on fire, the citizens were screaming, the droids were blowing up and shooting everyone. I climbed a platform, looked around, took a deep breath and dashed towards the battlefield.
Unusually for Ayrshire we've a bit of fog hanging around, it rolled in from the sea again about 3 so I grabbed the camera and dashed out to the highest local spot I could find where I was briefly above the fog. Glad I made the effort, it was a wonderful sight.
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! Being so lovely so early in our climate means it does originate from the Eurasian steppes.
We had a quite a treat recently when a lovely flock of Cedar Waxwings decided to come munch on the neighborhood crabapple trees. I was out for a morning run and heard the very distinct high pitched trilling whistle that they make......Needless to say...my run was cut short as I dashed home to grab my camera .Here is the series I captured.