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The NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope has observation time devoted to Saturn each year, thanks to the Outer Planet Atmospheres Legacy (OPAL) program, and the dynamic gas giant planet always shows us something new. This latest image heralds the start of Saturn's "spoke season" with the appearance of two smudgy spokes in the B ring, on the left in the image.
The spokes are enigmatic features which appear across Saturn’s rings. Their presence and appearance varies with the seasons — like Earth, Saturn is tilted on its axis and therefore has four seasons. With Saturn's much larger orbit, each season lasts approximately seven Earth years. Equinox occurs when the rings are tilted edge-on to the Sun and marks the height of spokes’ visibility, while during a solstice when the Sun is at its highest or lowest latitude, the spokes disappear.
The shape and shading of spokes varies — they can appear light or dark, depending on the viewing angle, and sometimes appear more like blobs than classic radial spoke shapes, as seen here. The ephemeral features don't last long, but as the planet's autumnal equinox approaches on 6 May 2025, more will appear.
Scientists will be looking for clues to explain the cause and nature of the spokes. It's suspected they are caused by interaction between Saturn's magnetic field and the solar wind, which also causes aurorae to appear on the planet. The hypothesis is that spokes are the smallest, dust-sized, icy ring particles being temporarily electrically charged and levitated, but this has not been confirmed.
Saturn's last equinox occurred in 2009, while the NASA/ESA/ASI Cassini spacecraft was orbiting the gas giant planet for close-up reconnaissance. With Cassini's mission completed in 2017, Hubble is continuing the work of long-term monitoring of changes on Saturn and the other outer planets.
[Image description: A close-up image of the planet Saturn. The rings are level with the viewer, and tilted slightly down.]
Credits: ESA/Hubble, NASA & A. Simon, A. Pagan (STScI); CC BY 4.0
Though it's clearly Chilly Autumn, Nature still allows Field Bindweed, Convolvulus arvensis, to tangle around along the ancient pilgrimage way down the Meuse River from Venlo to Genooi. Contemplating on the little Chapel there devoted to Our Lady, I could not but be reminded of the White Lilly, her particular flower. And seeing Convolvulus, I thought of great Pliny the Elder's (23-79) aside in his Natural History's discussion of Lilium candidum, Madonna Lily. That great naturalist remarks on Convolvulus's likeness to Lily except for its scent and the Lily's yellow stamens; and he concludes that Nature must've practiced on Convolvulus to perfect her Lillian Skill. An honor indeed for our humble Convolvulus, most often white but here no doubt blushing with pleasure at Pliny's word!
PS Scholars have said that Pliny's Bindweed was Convolvulus saepium and not arvensis; the difference though is not all that great...
The Catherine Palace is a Rococo palace in Tsarskoye Selo (Pushkin), located 30 kilometres (19 mi) south of central St. Petersburg. It was the summer residence of the tsars. The palace is part of the World Heritage Site Saint Petersburg and Related Groups of Monuments. The display of the Catherine Palace (known until 1910 as the Great Palace of Tsarskoe Selo) covers the 300-year history of this outstanding edifice and presents the work of architects involved in its construction and decoration in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries and also with the achievements of the restorers who returned the palace to life after the Second World War. Of the 58 halls destroyed during the war years, 32 have been recreated.
In 1717, while St Petersburg was being created on the banks of the Neva, the architect Johann Friedrich Braunstein started supervising the construction of the first masonry royal residence at Tsarskoe Selo that has gone down in history as “the stone chambers” of Catherine I. During the reign of Empress Elizabeth (the daughter of Peter the Great and Catherine I) in late 1742 or early 1743 it was decided to enlarge the building. From late 1748 until 1756 the construction of the Tsarskoe Selo residence was directed by Bartolomeo Francesco Rastrelli (1700–1771), the chief architect of the imperial court. On 10 May 1752 Empress Elizabeth signed a decree on the complete reconstruction of the old building and on 30 July 1756 Rastrelli was already presenting his new creation to his crowned mistress and foreign ambassadors.
The next stage in the decoration of the state rooms and living quarters came in the 1770s. The new mistress of the residence, Empress Catherine II, was fascinated with the art of the Ancient World and wanted to have her apartments finished in keeping with current tastes. She entrusted the task to the Scottish architect Charles Cameron (1743–1812), an expert on ancient architecture. The interiors that he created in the Zubov Wing and the North Part of the Palace are marked by refined beauty, austere decoration and especially exquisite finishing. In 1817, on the orders of Emperor Alexander I, the architect Vasily Stasov (1769–1848) created the State Study and a few adjoining rooms that are finished in a commons style – all these rooms were devoted to extolling the brilliant victories that the Russian army won against Napoleon in 1812 and afterwards. The last note in the symphony of palace state rooms was struck by the new Main Staircase created in 1860–63 by Ippolito Monighetti (1819–1878) in the "Second Rococo" style.
Italy, Turin
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Novena Day 4 -
St. Thomas, Devoted to the Mother of God
“As mariners are guided into port by the shining of a star, so Christians are guided to heaven by Mary"
Prayer
O most blessed and sweet Virgin Mary,
Mother of God, filled with all tenderness,
Daughter of the most high King,
Lady of the Angels,
Mother of all the faithful,
On this day and all the days of my life,
I entrust to your merciful heart my body and my soul,
all my acts, thoughts, choices,
desires, words, deeds,
my entire life and death,
So that, with your assistance,
all may be ordered to the good
according to the will of your beloved Son, our Lord Jesus Christ....
From your beloved Son...
request for me the grace to resist firmly
the temptations of the world, the flesh and the devil....
My most holy Lady,
I also beseech you to obtain for me
true obedience and true humility of heart
So that I may recognize myself truly
as a sinner--wretched and weak--
and powerless,
without the grace and help of my Creator
and without your holy prayers....
Obtain for me as well,
O most sweet Lady,
true charity with which from the depths of my heart
I may love your most holy Son, our Lord Jesus Christ,
and, after Him,
love you above all other things....
Grant, O Queen of Heaven,
that ever in my heart
I may have fear and love alike
for your most sweet Son....
I pray also that, at the end of my life,
you,
Mother without compare,
Gate of Heaven and Advocate of sinners....
will protect me with your great piety and mercy....
and obtain for me, through the blessed and glorious Passion of your Son
and through your own intercession,
received in hope, the forgiveness of all my sins.
When I die in your love and His love,
may you direct me
into the way of salvation and blessedness.
Amen.
Novena prayer
St. Thomas Aquinas, patron of students and Catholic schools, I thank God for the gifts of light and
knowledge he bestowed on you, which you used to build up the Church in love. I thank God, too,
for the wealth and richness of theological teaching you left in your writings. Not only were you a
great teacher, you lived a life of virtue and you made holiness the desire of your heart. If I cannot
imitate you in the brilliance of your academic pursuits, I can follow you in the humility and charity
which marked your life. As St. Paul said, charity is the greatest gift, and it is open to all. Pray for
me that I might grow in holiness and charity. Pray also for Catholic schools, and for all students. In
particular, please obtain the favor I ask during this novena (mention your request). Amen
Photo taken: January 1, 2011 (Solemnity of the Mother of God)
“I have devoted much effort, during the last decade or so, to the systematic encouragement of subversiveness.”
― Neal Stephenson, The Diamond Age
CREDIT---
ears . Uni Ears - Elf Nub / by Soul
skin . Emma - Cypher (BoM) / by Soul
eyeshadow . Issy Makeup (BoM) / by Zibska @ We <3 RolePlay until Feb 29
accessorie (head) . Issy set / by Zibska @ We <3 RolePlay until Feb 29
accessorie (shoulder) . Rotem set / by Zibska @ We <3 RolePlay until Feb 29
earrings . Syra / by Zibska
eyes . Digital Madness, in mindfuck (BoM) / by The Stringer Mausoleum
pose . Valentine's Secret 2020 / by NANTRA @ The Liaison Collaborative until Feb 26
outfit . Destruction Latex (BoM) / by Sn@tch
hair . NO.SUGAR / by NO.MATCH
head . Amelia / by Slink
body . Hourglass / by Slink
body shine . Holo Glitter / by Stargazer
lights . Harvest - Galactic - Nebula body lights / by Sasheba's Closet
particles . Heat Wave (jungle) / by Cole's Corner
face pose . bento Facial expression HUD / by Happy Dispatch
✭ CIRCA ✭ Dimma ✭ {Frick} ✭ Lovely Alien ✭ NANTRA ✭ Soul ✭ Zibska ✭
Image taken in the virtual platform of Second Life (tm)
Red-breasted Sapsucker waits at the nest hole for open mouth to appear; Sphyrapicus ruber; Lee Vining; Eastern Sierra Mts; CA; USA
The 168-meter and 70-meter-wide Ball Court ((551 by 230 ft) is the largest in the Mayan country.
Its dimensions suggest that this court was more devoted to ceremonies than sport, especially as two temples, one to the north and one to the south close this court.
During big celebrations, two teams clashed around a rubber ball. This ball was quite heavy (around 3 kg - 6,6 lb). As in volleyball, the goal was to return the ball to the opposing side without it touching the ground.
Players could only use their hips, elbows, buttocks or knees, it was forbidden to touch the ball with their hands or feet!
According to 16th-century writers who describe the game as practiced in central Mexico, the scoring was quite complex: the team that made a mistake (that is, not catching the ball, by not sending her back to the opposing side or by using a forbidden part of the body) lost one point and the opposing team won one.
The game ended when the number of points determined in advance was reached. The game could also stop when a player realized the feat (excessively rare) to pass the ball in the ring of the opposing camp (located several meters from the ground).
The match could span one or more days. We were told that at the end of the game, the captain of the winning team was decapitated by the captain of the losing team (the idea was to offer the gods what was best).
For the Mayas, it was a great honor: the head was then impaled in the wall provided for this purpose right next to the pelota stadium.
___________________________
Chichen Itza - le terrain du Jeu de Balle
Le terrain du Jeu de Balle, d'une longueur de 168 mètres et de 70 mètres de largeur, est le plus important du pays Maya.
Ses dimensions laissent à penser que ce terrain était plutôt consacré aux cérémonies qu'au sport, d'autant que deux temples, l'un au nord et l'autre au sud ferment ce terrain.
Lors des grandes fêtes, deux équipes s’affrontaient autour d’une balle en caoutchouc. Cette balle était assez lourde (autours de 3 kg). Comme au volley-ball, le but était de renvoyer la balle dans le camp adverse sans qu'elle ne touche le sol.
Les joueurs pouvaient uniquement utiliser leurs hanches, ses coudes, ses fesses ou ses genoux, il était interdit de toucher la balle avec les mains ou les pieds !
Selon les auteurs du XVIe siècle qui décrivent le jeu tel qu'il était pratiqué au Mexique central, le décompte des points était assez complexe : l'équipe qui commettait une faute (c'est-à-dire en ne rattrapant pas la balle, en ne la renvoyant pas dans le camp adverse ou en utilisant une partie du corps interdite) perdait un point et l'équipe adverse en gagnait un.
La partie s'achevait lorsque le nombre de points déterminé à l'avance était atteint. La partie pouvait également s'arrêter lorsqu'un joueur réalisait l'exploit (excessivement rare) de faire passer la balle dans l'anneau du camp adverse (situé à plusieurs mètres du sol).
Le match pouvait s'étendre sur un ou plusieurs jours. On nous a expliqué que à la fin du jeu, la tête du capitaine de l'équipe gagnante était tranchée par le capitaine de l'équipe perdante (l'idée était d'offrir aux dieux ce que l'on avait de meilleur).
Pour les Mayas, c'était un grand honneur : la tête était ensuite empalée dans le mur prévu à cet effet juste à côté du stade de pelote.
_______________________________
Izamal - Yucatàn - Mexique / Mexico
Salagon is an ethnobotanic museum devoted to the heritage of Haute Provence and is housed in a priory near Mane in Alpes de Haute Provence.
Botanica via is an installation created specifically for the church at Salagon by the artist Ursula Caruel. Her work consists of preserved plants, plant prints, and embroidery. The exhibition seeks to link the plants in the ethnobotanical gardens with the architecture of the Romanesque church.
This photo show a mosaic of imprints made from plants in the gardens at Salagon set in a blocked doorway in the church. It is also intended to be a tribute to the plant artist Marinette Cueco, who exhibited her work in Salagon in 2021.
A Lanchester glided through Wells (Mendip, Somerset) yesterday afternoon with a nervous (but devoted) back seat driver. The Lanchester Motor Company Limited startd out in Birmingham until 1931 before moving to Coventry, England.
The company was bought out and the cars were manufactured under the Daimler brand.
❥Boobs & Top: REBORN feat Axolotl - Juicy Boobs &Top @ Mainstore
❥Body: eBODY- REBORN @ Mainstore
❥Shape: Customized by Essential's Shapes
Copenhagen
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Arles le 13 août 2016.
Nous sommes un samedi, jour du magnifique marché d'Arles.
Mon 11ème livret photographique sur cette city que j'aime tant parcourir, re découvrir.
Avec, toujours, cet enivrant instant où je gare ma voiture et ... vite,
illico, ce sentiment confus que tout sera net, précis, vivant.
Je scrute chaque 1ers murs, chaque 1ères façades.
Volets, portes languedociennes, plantes en vrac un peu partout,
affiches déchirées, consumées,
des gamins en mouvements dans des ruelles que le soleil bombarde.
L'occasion encore une fois de vivre sur place
un petit bout de ces rencontres photographiques d'Arles. Surtout le off des murs ...
Intensément perdu.
Malgré cela, mon attention sera surtout dévouée à la performance de William Kentridge,
un artiste génialement homme orchestre : sons et images.
Dans ce livret sera consacrée un nombre important de shoots que j'ai réalisé dans la salle
où fut projetée son œuvre du moment :
"More Sweetly Play the Dance."
Hommage à ce si beau et envoûtant travail sur l'image "animée"
d'une conscience du temps et de la vanité des hommes.
Ici je reproduis le texte de Nicolas Michel, in Jeune Afrique.
Son texte est clair, sobre et si juste pour saisir son travail engagé.
"... Le fusain noircit le papier déjà sale, s’efface, noircit à nouveau. Il y a des arbres et des plantes, des monticules de terre et des restes d’habitation, et puis toute une cohorte de vivants, de malades et de morts qui s’avancent, accompagnés par une fanfare, vers un inconnu mystérieux. C’est une danse macabre presque joyeuse...
Projetée sur huit écrans alignés sur quarante mètres, cette procession poétique chorégraphiée par la danseuse sud-africaine Dada Masilo (...) mélange films et dessins, et emporte tout dans un tourbillon poétique. Peut-être faut-il y voir un cortège de réfugiés ou la foule courbée par le poids d’un deuil, mais la musique et la danse semblent dire que c’est là le mouvement de la vie même, funèbre et enjoué..."
...
1975/5000
Arles on 13 August 2016.
We are a Saturday, the day of the magnificent market of Arles.
My 11th photographic booklet on this city that I like so much to go, re discover.
With, always, this intoxicating moment when I park my car and ... quickly,
Illico, this confused feeling that everything will be clear, precise, alive.
I scrutinize every first wall, every first facade.
Shutters, doors languedociennes, plants in bulk almost everywhere,
Posters torn, burnt,
Kids moving in alleys that the sun bombs.
The opportunity once again to live on the spot
A little bit of these photographic encounters in Arles. Especially the off the walls ...
Intensely lost.
Despite this, my focus will be on the performance of William Kentridge,
A genially orchestral artist: sounds and images.
In this booklet will be devoted a significant number of shoots that I realized in the room
Where his work of the moment was projected:
"More Sweetly Play the Dance."
Tribute to this beautiful and captivating work on the image "animated"
Of a consciousness of time and the vanity of men.
Here I reproduce the text of Nicolas Michel, in Jeune Afrique.
His text is clear, sober and so just to seize his committed work.
"... The charcoal blackens the already dirty paper, fades, blackens again, there are trees and plants, mounds of earth and remains of habitation, and then a whole cohort of living, sick And of the dead who come forward, accompanied by a fanfare, towards a mysterious unknown. It is a macabre dance almost joyous ...
Projected on eight screens aligned forty meters, this poetic procession choreographed by the South African dancer Dada Masilo (...) mixes films and drawings, and carries everything in a poetic whirlwind. Perhaps we should see a procession of refugees or the crowd bent by the weight of a mourning, but music and dance seem to say that this is the movement of life itself, funereal and playful ... "
In the early morning, I embarked on a challenging hike from the Six Senses Bumthang to the revered Chorten Ningpo Monastery in Bhutan. The journey was far from a leisurely stroll, yet as I neared my destination, a breathtaking view of the monastery awaited me as a remarkable reward. My purpose for arriving at the monastery so early was to participate in the sacred morning prayers at Chorten Ningpo. Eager to document this spiritual experience and the morning rituals of the devoted monks, I hoped to capture their moments of studying, prayer, and breakfast - Chorten Ningpo Monastery, Punakha, Bhutan
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Kunglers - Angelina earrings a gift at Valentine's Shop & Hop
tram J0116a hair for Collabor88
God is Listening
God is listening;
Just speak quietly.
God is listening;
Just speak devotedly.
Believe me,
God is not and cannot be deaf
To your heart-longing.
His Compassion-Perfection
Has caught the very first faint cry
From your oneness-heart.
God is listening;
Just speak quietly and devotedly.
- Sri Chinmoy
The National Space Centre is one of the United Kingdom's leading visitor attractions that is devoted to space science and astronomy. It is located in the city of Leicester, England, next to the River Soar on the A6.
1176
REFORD GARDENS | LES JARDINS DE METIS
Coucher de soleil, Sainte-Flavie.
Visit : www.refordgardens.com/
Photo taken close to REFORD GARDENS.(Sainte-Flavie)
Mrs Elsie Reford loved those beautiful sunsets.
Reference: Elsie's Paradise, The Reford Gardens, Alexander Reford, 2004, ISBN 2-7619-1921-1, That book is a must for Reford Gardens lovers!
''I shall always, all my life, want to come back to those sunsets.'' Elsie Reford, July 20, 1913. (page 25)
" It is just after 8 o'clock and I am sitting in front of my big window with the gorgeous panorama of a glorious afterglow from a perfect sunset. There is every hue of blue on the water of 'the Blue Lagoon' while Pointe-aux-Cenelles is bathed in pink and crimson and the dark hills of the north shore seem no further than two or three miles distant. I don't think in the whole world at this moment there could be anything more beautiful." Elsie Reford, June 2, 1931. (page 81)
''One thing I can do that no one else can is to pass the love that I feel for this place and this woman'' Alexander Reford
Visit : www.refordgardens.com/
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From Wikipedia:
Elsie Stephen Meighen - born January 22, 1872, Perth, Ontario - and Robert Wilson Reford - born in 1867, Montreal - got married on June 12, 1894.
Elsie Reford was a pioneer of Canadian horticulture, creating one of the largest private gardens in Canada on her estate, Estevan Lodge in eastern Québec. Located in Grand-Métis on the south shore of the St. Lawrence River, her gardens have been open to the public since 1962 and operate under the name Les Jardins de Métis and Reford Gardens.
Born January 22, 1872 at Perth, Ontario, Elsie Reford was the eldest of three children born to Robert Meighen and Elsie Stephen. Coming from modest backgrounds themselves, Elsie’s parents ensured that their children received a good education. After being educated in Montreal, she was sent to finishing school in Dresden and Paris, returning to Montreal fluent in both German and French, and ready to take her place in society.
She married Robert Wilson Reford on June 12, 1894. She gave birth to two sons, Bruce in 1895 and Eric in 1900. Robert and Elsie Reford were, by many accounts, an ideal couple. In 1902, they built a house on Drummond Street in Montreal. They both loved the outdoors and they spend several weeks a year in a log cabin they built at Lac Caribou, south of Rimouski. In the autumn they hunted for caribou, deer, and ducks. They returned in winter to ski and snowshoe. Elsie Reford also liked to ride. She had learned as a girl and spent many hours riding on the slopes of Mount Royal. And of course, there was salmon-fishing – a sport at which she excelled.
In her day, she was known for her civic, social, and political activism. She was engaged in philanthropic activities, particularly for the Montreal Maternity Hospital and she was also the moving force behind the creation of the Women’s Canadian Club of Montreal, the first women club in Canada. She believed it important that the women become involved in debates over the great issues of the day, « something beyond the local gossip of the hour ». Her acquaintance with Lord Grey, the Governor-General of Canada from 1904 to 1911, led to her involvement in organizing, in 1908, Québec City’s tercentennial celebrations. The event was one of many to which she devoted herself in building bridges with French-Canadian community.
During the First World War, she joined her two sons in England and did volunteer work at the War Office, translating documents from German into English. After the war, she was active in the Victorian Order of Nurses, the Montreal Council of Social Agencies, and the National Association of Conservative Women.
In 1925 at the age of 53 years, Elsie Reford was operated for appendicitis and during her convalescence, her doctor counselled against fishing, fearing that she did not have the strength to return to the river.”Why not take up gardening?” he said, thinking this a more suitable pastime for a convalescent woman of a certain age. That is why she began laying out the gardens and supervising their construction. The gardens would take ten years to build, and would extend over more than twenty acres.
Elsie Reford had to overcome many difficulties in bringing her garden to life. First among them were the allergies that sometimes left her bedridden for days on end. The second obstacle was the property itself. Estevan was first and foremost a fishing lodge. The site was chosen because of its proximity to a salmon river and its dramatic views – not for the quality of the soil.
To counter-act nature’s deficiencies, she created soil for each of the plants she had selected, bringing peat and sand from nearby farms. This exchange was fortuitous to the local farmers, suffering through the Great Depression. Then, as now, the gardens provided much-needed work to an area with high unemployment. Elsie Reford’s genius as a gardener was born of the knowledge she developed of the needs of plants. Over the course of her long life, she became an expert plantsman. By the end of her life, Elsie Reford was able to counsel other gardeners, writing in the journals of the Royal Horticultural Society and the North American Lily Society. Elsie Reford was not a landscape architect and had no training of any kind as a garden designer. While she collected and appreciated art, she claimed no talents as an artist.
Elsie Stephen Reford died at her Drummond Street home on November 8, 1967 in her ninety-sixth year.
In 1995, the Reford Gardens ("Jardins de Métis") in Grand-Métis were designated a National Historic Site of Canada, as being an excellent Canadian example of the English-inspired garden.(Wikipedia)
Visit : en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elsie_Reford
LES JARDINS DE MÉTIS
Créés par Elsie Reford de 1926 à 1958, ces jardins témoignent de façon remarquable de l’art paysager à l’anglaise. Disposés dans un cadre naturel, un ensemble de jardins exhibent fleurs vivaces, arbres et arbustes. Le jardin des pommetiers, les rocailles et l’Allée royale évoquent l’œuvre de cette dame passionnée d’horticulture. Agrémenté d’un ruisseau et de sentiers sinueux, ce site jouit d’un microclimat favorable à la croissance d’espèces uniques au Canada. Les pavots bleus et les lis, privilégiés par Mme Reford, y fleurissent toujours et contribuent , avec d’autres plantes exotiques et indigènes, à l’harmonie de ces lieux.
Created by Elsie Reford between 1926 and 1958, these gardens are an inspired example of the English art of the garden. Woven into a natural setting, a series of gardens display perennials, trees and shrubs. A crab-apple orchard, a rock garden, and the Long Walk are also the legacy of this dedicated horticulturist. A microclimate favours the growth of species found nowhere else in Canada, while the stream and winding paths add to the charm. Elsie Reford’s beloved blue poppies and lilies still bloom and contribute, with other exotic and indigenous plants, to the harmony of the site. 572
Commission des lieux et monuments historiques du Canada
Historic Sites and Monuments Board of Canada.
Gouvernement du Canada – Government of Canada
© Copyright
This photo and all those in my Photostream are protected by copyright. No one may reproduce, copy, transmit or manipulate them without my written permission.
With what a deep devotedness of woe
I wept thy absence - o'er and o'er again
Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain,
And memory, like a drop that, night and day,
Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away!
~Thomas Moore
© LKG Photography
the-testimony-of-a-devotee.blogspot.com A devoted married woman contemplates when to confront her cheating husband in the span of 1 week.
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Evelyn S. Oliver
Sapphire Productions
Spain, Valencia, “L'Oceanogràfic“, in front on the left the spherical 26 mtr high volière which presents a reproduction of a wetland, devoted to South American mangroves, occupied by yellow-headed turtles & sunfishes for the aquatic part & by pink spoonbills, red ibis, striated herons, ypecaha / giant wood rail & redheads.
The special feature is, that visitors can move freely via walkways that run along the edge inside of the volière. A descending ramp which allows to observe birds from the treetops & at the ground level a large aquarium in which mangrove trees grow. In front of the mangroves, 2 other aquariums re- present the ponds on the shores of the Mediterranean.
The complete swamp birdcage is covered with a net to avoid birds to escape & also wild birds cannot get inside, to avoid illness, fights etc.
Behind, on the left, the top of the cable-stayed bridge "l'Assut de l'Or" & the "Àgora", named after a public square in the cities of ancient Greece.
“L'Oceanogràfic“ is part of the City of Arts & Sciences, a marine complex, the open-air oceanographic park was built in the shape of a water lily & is the largest oceanographic aquarium in Europe with 110,000 square meters & 42 million litres of water.
The park is home for 45,000 animals of 500 different species including fishes, mammals, birds, reptiles & invertebrates, amongst these are sharks, penguins, dolphins, sea lions, walruses, beluga whales & others. All inhabiting nine underwater towers, each tower is structured in two levels & represents the major ecosystems of the planet. One of the highlights is the 70 m long underwater tunnel, having sharks, mantas etc cruising above you.
The park is divided into ten areas. The marine areas reflect the Mediterranean habitats, the polar oceans, the Arctic, the islands, the tropical seas, the temperate seas & the Red Sea. The park also includes a dolphinarium, an auditorium with a Red Sea aquarium, an area of mangrove swamps & marshland, also a garden with more than 80 different species of plant.
The sea water is pumped from “Playa de la Malvarrosa” having passed all of the necessary requirements for quality.
The City of Arts & Sciences, is an entertainment-based cultural & architectural complex, which is the most important modern tourist destination in the city.
The “Ciudad de las Artes y de las Ciencias” is located at the end of the old riverbed “Turia”, after the bypass of the river by the great flood of Valencia in 1957, the old riverbed Turia became a garden in 1980 with sport facilities, the “Palau de la Musica” build in 1984 & other public places.
The project “City of Arts & Sciences”, designed by the Valencian architect, sculptor & structural engineer Santiago Calatrava & Félix Candela with offices in Zurich, Valencia & New York City, underwent the first stages of construction in July, 1996 & was inaugurated April 16, 1998 with the opening of “L'Hemisfèric”; other locations that followed were, El Museu de les Ciències Príncipe Felipe in November 2000, L'Umbracle, El Palau de les Arts Reina Sofía in October 2005, El Puente de l'Assut de l'Or , L'Àgora officially inaugurated in November 2009 & L'Oceanogràfic.
👉 One World one Dream,
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In the early morning, I embarked on a challenging hike from the Six Senses Bumthang to the revered Chorten Ningpo Monastery in Bhutan. The journey was far from a leisurely stroll, yet as I neared my destination, a breathtaking view of the monastery awaited me as a remarkable reward. My purpose for arriving at the monastery so early was to participate in the sacred morning prayers at Chorten Ningpo. Eager to document this spiritual experience and the morning rituals of the devoted monks, I hoped to capture their moments of studying, prayer, and breakfast - Chorten Ningpo Monastery, Punakha, Bhutan
Av. Francisco Sosa between Av. Universidad and Centro de Coyoacán is a 2 Km cobblestone street.
Sosa is lined with fenced and gated homes & estates with a mishmash of fence and gate styles - so random 1 of 4 of them.
Located in the historic centre of Coyoacán this building Casa Alarado at Av. Francisco Sosa 383, is a library devoted to the preservation of sound - Mexico’s National Sound Library containing a record of the country’s music, recordings, and voices of its most famous residents.
Built in the 18th century under Andalusian and Moorish influence, Casa Alvarado has hosted many institutions, including the Ministry of Finance and Public Credit, the headquarters of the Encyclopedia of Mexico, and an office of the Octavio Paz Foundation.
Its current resident holding is a comprehensive archive of the country’s most important audiovisual records.
Coyoacan was originally founded by the Tepanec people who migrated into the Valley of Mexico in the 12th century, displacing earlier Indigenous tribes.
Coyoacan is the location of the Spaniards first foray into the valley and was the original capital between 1521 to 1523.
After the Aztec capital was destroyed, Cortés remained in Coyoacán and made it the first capital of New Spain from 1521 to 1523.
Coyoacán was eventually swallowed by Mexico City’s expansion in the 1920s and became part a of Mexico City.
IMO the cool thing about Coyoacán is it has retained its old-time village feel.
The community is completely different from the hustle and bustle of much of Mexico City.
There are no skyscrapers or fancy hotels. With its cobbled streets and colourful houses, Coyoacan has a unique feel of an earlier time.
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“In a chronically leaking boat, energy devoted to changing vessels is more productive than energy devoted to patching leaks.” -Warren Buffett
listen: www.youtube.com/watch?v=jEeHDYkh5Bg
[This is my first image from New Zealand during my week there. This gorgeous beach was called Baring Head, and I returned there twice more after my initial visit. I was amazed at how empty the beach was, each time I went. Unlike beaches here on the west coast in the US, which are oftentimes jam-packed with people, Baring Head had nobody occupying its shores aside from its resident sheep and lambs. The tide there was incredibly powerful. Massive rock structures jutted out from the sand and towered proudly above the relentless onslaught of the waves. Thick, swiftly moving clouds crept over and around the hills seen in the distance, and a light but steady wind whipped the dry sand across the areas still damp from the receding tide.
Travel has this incredible ability to force you to become acutely aware of just how *you* you are. I learned a lot about myself during my trip to Hawaii and then New Zealand. I highly recommend traveling as much as possible to any and everyone. The world would be a better place if we all got outside of our comfort zones more often.]
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We devoted a little more than three weeks to hiking the Main Beskid Trail, or Główny Szlak Beskidzki (GSB). This crosses 500 kilometers through the Beskid Mountains along the southern border of Poland, from Ustron in the west to Wolosat in the east.
This was a somewhat eccentric choice for a long distance trail. According to the interwebs, about a hundred people complete it each year. They must be almost entirely Poles, as we saw almost no foreigners at all, and then only (I believe) Slovaks and Czechs, who share a border on parts of the trail.
The trail is a very up and down trail, with over twenty thousand meters of elevation gain, or about 1000m/day at the pace we did it. This is not extraordinary, but surely Poles are a tough breed, because there are absolutely no switchbacks to gain or lose elevation. There is an occasional traverse of a mountain when in the national parks, but otherwise it is straight up by the shortest route, then straight down by the shortest route, then repeat, and repeat. Make no mistake, despite the lack of high absolute altitudes the kilometers on this trail are harder than those of most other long distance trails.
The GSB does have some grand scenery, but it is not over generous with it. The highpoint of the trail is Babia Góra (1725m), the summit of which is treeless (and spectacular), but most of the rest of the trail is comfortably below the treeline, which means spruce and (especially) beech forests. These can be beautiful–and don't get me wrong, walking in the shade is very pleasant–but honestly it can be a bit of a let down to climb to so many peaks that have no view.
Still and all we had a great time. The trail has a great hut system, and many farms offer accommodations, so evenings always ended with a bed and good food and drink. Also, we crossed paths with new and interesting people, explored new places, saw new animals, and mostly lucked out with the weather. So, we’re very happy with the outcome. Mrs. Orca on the Great Beskid Trail (GSB) near Cergowa (716m), Poland.
Dreich. That’s the only word that could ever describe the steel, bitter, relentless, driving rain that pelts off the upright windshield of our Land Rover, as we weave our way along the coastal path that leads to the most westerly point on the British Mainland.
The week has been remarkably sunny and dare I say warm, at our base in Strontian, located at the most easterly point of Loch Sunart, separating the Morvern wilds from the Ardnamurchan Peninsula. We walked in the hills around Strontian one day, then drove over those wilds of Morvern to Lochaline to catch the ferry over to Fishnish another; the Isle of Mull is equally as beautiful and suited for meandering around, taking in the ambience.
Today though we make haste, for our allotted slot at 10:30am at the Ardnamurchan distillery has been shifted earlier to allow my guide enough time to show me around the place before he attends to some rather important duties. I’m chaperoned to the distillery by my father-in-law of last year's electrical lighting fame, affording me the courtesy of any potential drams that may be bestowed upon my eager face. He also loves his Land Rover, so any chance to stretch her legs is reason enough for him.
We’re soon slingshotting around Salen and onwards to Glenbeg, where the road seems to deteriorate further in both width and surface quality - we must work hard for these spoils. A bright white-painted cask end appears indicating there’s one mile left to go before we alight in the stony car park of the Ardnamurchan distillery and visitor centre. We mention it not - this isn’t the first time either of us have been here.
My in-laws visited this place in 2014 just after the distillery opened, enjoying a tour around the only warehouse on site - Warehouse 1 - where the grand sum of four casks had been laid down. A lot has changed since then. I visited in 2022 and in the time since my tour almost a year ago to the day, I too have changed a lot.
I’m nervous. Not because whisky tours make me nervous or because I’m worried I won’t like the whisky, but because I’m hoping to meet the people I’d spent so many months tagging in my Instagram posts and chatting over messages and emails. I guess my nervousness is a poor attempt to mask my desperation that they like me, that I don’t embarrass myself or make them realise I’m a giant fraud.
Last year at this time, the team had assembled at the distillery to blend the 2022 Paul Launois release and I’d been too shy to say hello. It turns out this year they’re doing the exact same thing. Today, in fact.
It’s no secret I'm devoted to the Ardnamurchan way - in fact it’s become a bit of fun for those wanting to tease me about my abject obsession with this place. I’ve spent many hours postulating why the Ardnamurchan distillery resonates so deeply with me, as a person and as a whisky exciter, and over the course of three hours, first in Warehouse 1 then up into the hills, nothing happens to change that. In fact, if you can believe it, my devotion has widened.
We started in the dark, cool climes of Warehouse 1. If you’ve never smelled a whisky warehouse then it's hard to convey the utterly absorbing aroma that greets you upon entry, arriving in waves through your red-hot olfactory machine. It’s easy to spill over into the saccharine romanticism when thinking and speaking about alcohol inside casks plopped inside a building (and oh boy do I fall foul constantly), but it’s undeniably a rather unique place to be. No-one gushes about the alluring aromas of an Amazon warehouse, do they? The difference being that whisky matures inside leaky wooden vessels, and that porosity allows alcohol vapours to find their way into the air circulating around the breezy warehouse and colours the environment with fabulous scents - Angels’ Share is what they call it.
But it’s more than smell - it’s touch and sight too. Casks and their condition are intrinsically linked to the quality and style of maturation and we get to see those variances as we walk along the warehouse. From rough to smooth, bright and clean to looking like a potato that you’ve just dug out the ground; the variety of casks, aesthetically, is quite amazing. If we are so inclined, we can touch the casks, feel their texture and knock on their wooden walls. Sometimes we get to stick our noses inside. There happened to be a cask waiting to get filled, and sniffing through the bung hole the diorama of scents unleashed into my frontal cortex was overwhelming. I managed to blurt out caramel, cherry and vanilla, but in truth it was a million things all at once and making sense of it was impossible - I only wish I could bottle that scent or turn it into a candle.
There’s a tasting element to a warehouse too, and today I was extremely fortunate to be accompanied by 3/5ths of the blending team, who were only too happy to see what was occurring in the warehouse. Drinking whisky decanted, through syphoning via a giant copper straw-like valinch, splashing all over the place before finally finding its way into a glass, surrounded by all this sensory overload is peak whisky for me. The liquid is really cold and viscous. It takes a moment for it to warm up enough in my hand to begin releasing aromas and flavours, but when it does, the mouthfeel, smell, sight and sound of it all is unbeatable. It’s untouched, unfiltered.
It’s been suggested I might soon get to a point where Ardnamurchan stops offering enough to keep my attention, and I’ll start to drift and dabble. Having now tried a number of remarkable whiskies maturing in the cask, from a variety of different cask types, styles, ages and sizes, I have to say I can’t see that happening anytime soon. I kneel down, lower my arms and prepare for the hiss of the blade - perhaps I’m blinkered and naive, or perhaps there’s nothing more to it than simple resonance.
Hmmm. Did you get all that? His words (Dramface) not mine. Landrover, knobbly tyres, type