It was interesting and sometimes amusing to observe the interactions of the animals. The Wildebeest adopted the ‘numbers game’ after an unsuccessful hunt by the Fast Five and followed one of the Five at a respectful distance. However, immediately the Cheetah turned to face them, the Wildebeest lost courage and fled in disarray.

Having not much time to actually shoot anything interesting as of late, one can also fall back on taking soulful images of carefully (although only somewhat) arranged domestic disarray featuring pieces of history which has absolutely no direct correlation to oneself, apart from the fact you sourced and paid for it via god-only-knows how many hands.

Does such sickening cynicism make this more or less interesting an image (or indeed at all?)

Aside a well maintained rolling gravel track, between the villages of Loza and Baroja, on an undulating Basque last highland, and prior to a sheer sierra cliff down towards the detail rich Rioja region of Spain; near amber deposits exploited and valued in late prehistoric ages, and in an area littered with vivid Neolithic and chalcolithic, bronze age and Celtiberic sites, can be found an intriguing cluster of three main elements that includes this dramatic man-made cavity known as Peña Hueca (Hollow Rock).

The site sprawls around a quiet slope close to views over a dragons-back crest of low mountain tops along today's Alava heights in northern Spain (the distant Peña Alta and its hermitage cave). The greater Peña Hueca site is discreet and self contained and contrasts with hilltop psychologies. It must also be noted that no historical village gravitated to this cluster of two artificial caves and a ritualised natural outcrop - seemingly adapted for rites, culture and thought. Whilst arguments that the element of Peña Hueca is a Christian 'church' have been made, a wide space for thought and observation is probably required so as to assure that phase changes from prehistory or post-protohistory have not been influencing the forms we see today: prior to the application of finishing words like nave and apse.

Perhaps the main element of the cluster is Peña El Campanario (see future post). This small rocky python (perhaps reminiscent of the mineral focal point over at Morenci) was until recently pierced at its summit by a wide and dramatic circle - a crass but vivid comparison might be with a massive flat rectangular beer bottle opener. This obvious focal point for the cluster was graced with several monolithic sarcophagi - currently in a state of decrepitude. Photos still exist of the circle and I can see no marks to justify a term such as 'bell tower'. It must be remembered that great historical paintings are restored and that perfectly circular large rocky "apertures" (man-made, enhanced or naturel) are apt for solstice and sun, star and moon celebrations. The site would be returned to a visual silhouette via subtle renovation strategies (the broken pieces seem to still to be found at the feet).

Of the set of three main elements (and more basins and monolithic graves may/must be hidden under the heavy scrub that currently rules), it is this man-made cavity that had a scale and drama to captivate large numbers of people above and beyond the specifications for a hermit.

Sites with full edge to edge openings do exist and the idea that a past entrance of windows and door has fallen over time need to be measured. I certainly would expect to see more scree were this to have been the case. As you pass through the flush opening and into the man-made cavity, you are met with a spheric side room to the right (including acoustic properties) and a larger semi-circular cavity to the left and perhaps looking to be part of the oldest outline. A disarray of petroglyphs can be witnessed, including modern, medieval and 'potential' late prehistoric cup and canal with u-shaped line form. None of the examples seem to rigorously ornament into the site and they may seem to have been placed with idiosyncratic whim. The spheric side room is reminiscent of sites such as San Pedro to the west.

Troglodytic sites seem to be most prevalent towards the head waters of major rivers in mainland Spain and many examples can be found as the Ebro starts to flow and rise under the Atlantic coast after its run under the mountains of the Pyrenees.

The element that stands out for the specific Peña Hueca site is the near continuous trough around the edge. This may be a relatively modern addition. Too small for seating and not worn to have held a raised wooden floor; too slight for presenting bodies for mourners and perhaps too uneven and slap dash for housing for temporary decoration: the troughs may have been carved into the common 'skirting' during a period of time after the space had dissociated from memory and meaning, affording a local an attractive corral to feed and hold a herd of cattle, goats or sheep. The sheer height of the artificial space, the exactitude of the spherical side chamber and the association with other elements in the cluster seem to show that the potential feeding trough was an after effect and not a generative cause. Other examples turned over to agricultural use do exist.

Stepping back and after time for thought I have generated a narrative as a test hypotheses.

Two main factors: amber and position:

The site is just 3.5km from the Peñacerrada Alava amber deposits. Ancient secure negotiation and storage? Negotiation both away from, but close to the precious quarry sites? This might be expected both towards the Med's Ebro 'highway' where many peoples passed as a constant, and then up at a safe distance from the deposits themselves for the trading peoples resident in the Atlantic hills and mountains to a wide north. Amber was symbolic and worked into amulet and jewel from as far as the upper Palaeolithic. It is often employed today as a way to demonstrate long distance prehistoric trade between Iberia and northern Europe at least into the Chalcolithic - when the ages of metals offered a new gold aside its centre stage. A sense of prestige, and mystical space to grow with and outlast initial practical sites such as the Chalcolithic Las Yurdinas? Clean resonant sites where a rock surface is a desired contact that slows or stops the procedures of laminating archaeological deposit?

Small, and not so small cavities in quiet corners can be found for 10 straight kilometres in the quiet valleys after the amber deposits - direction the Biscaye. Amber draws trade and trade offers alternatives and variety and was potentially a way to avoid the Neolithic push to early pastoralism. Amber attracts bandits and bandits attract warrior 'police' who may in turn enjoy shelters of prestige carved into stone (signs of human death by arrow can be found in the area). Here an early seeding of a space for quiet gathering may be followed by a long and rigorous gestation evolving with time into troglodytic villages (Gobas 7km from amber deposits), solid mountain castles (San Juan - 14km from amber deposits) and neo/early Christian hermitage (Peña Hueca 3km from amber deposits): each site present to largely wave past such historical flourishes as the Roman and Visigoth. Each phase changing the patina of celebrations and cultures that link Bell Beaker to Celtiberic and Celtiberic to pastoral and peasant. Each site influenced by early Christian thinking but reflecting these details in shapes and forms that have taken shape from multiple local factors rather than fixed plans.

Even without its amber, the region has a strength of being beautifully lost. Quiet and hidden behind or aside cul-du-sac villages such as Markinez, Laño, Faidu, Baroja and Loza: a Vézère quality of hiding in idyllic frame. And they do hide. Above them, the bulk of the Basque region knots with ever turning valleys and unfolding hill; below to the south, and an extreme drop to the great river Ebro's pitch. Far from conglomeration and high past a rift-like edge, the world of changing power structures can simply pass-by or dilute. Agriculture arrive quite late in these parts, and this second factor of geographical isolation without arid provision may have secured a long gestation for its troglodyte forms.

Three qualatatively different loci in a cluster: spaces for guardians, seasonal rite, local and regional dance, religious figures, exchange and trade provision and safe keeping that interfaced with historical religion and power with mixed final architectures?

To keep both interior and exterior detail without using flash, a 'quiet' HDR was generated.

AJM 02.11.20

Intention: In this picture, my goal was to show dynamic tension through various lines, textures, color, and light. I admired this staircase so much, I actually used two shots of it in this project, though both from very different angles. This particular shot was actually shot upside-down, this photo was NOT rotated. While taking many different shots here, I happened to notice just how interesting it looked from below, but upside-down. This gives the picture a sense of confusion and disarray, and almost a bit of an M. C. Usher feel as well.

Reference to Reading: David DuChemin talks about lines and patterns, and how they create a visual echo and draw greater attention to the shape itself.

Outcome: Even though this is a similar picture of the same subject as my previous photo, I still find this photo to be a unique success. I think the overall "feel" of the photo is different, showing that a simple shift in perspective can change an entire story in a photograph. I really enjoy the slightly off-kilter "balance" this photo has as well.

Edits: +Exposure, +Contrast, -Highlights, -Shadows, +Blacks, +Texture, +Clarity, +Dehaze, +Vibrance, +Sharpening, +Noise Reduction, Color Mixer for Hue/Saturation, Color Grading for Midtones/Shadows/Highlights, and Vignette.

Compagnie ACIDU

NAGEUSES SUR BITUME

Cinq femmes en quête de synchronisation

Cinq nageuses synchronisées. Cinq femmes. « Interdites de piscine », elles se retrouvent à la rue et dans la rue, pour manifester leur désarroi, leur colère et leur désir ; sans piscine et sans eau, elles continuent d’avancer, de vivre… Nage ou crève ! Elles s’adaptent, s’inventent un monde afin de nager sur le bitume, dans une piscine remplie d’air, la rue ; aux côtés d’autres nageurs en eaux troubles, les spectateurs.

Company ACIDU

SWIMMERS ON BITUMEN

Five women in search of synchronization

Five synchronized swimmers. Five women. "Forbidden swimming pool", they find themselves in the street and in the street, to show their disarray, their anger and their desire; Without swimming pool and without water, they continue to advance, to live ... Swim or die! They adapt, invent a world in order to swim on the bitumen, in a pool filled with air, the street; Alongside other swimmers in troubled waters, the spectators.

Acidu Unternehmen

Schwimmer auf ASPHALT

Fünf Frauen auf der Suche für die Synchronisation

Fünf Synchronschwimmer . Fünf Frauen. „Forbidden Pool“, finden sie sich auf der Straße und auf der Straße ihre Bestürzung, Wut und den Wunsch zu zeigen; kein Pool und kein Wasser, sie weiterhin nach vorne zu bewegen, zu leben oder sterben ... Swim! Sie passen, erfinden eine Welt auf dem Asphalt schwimmen in einem Pool mit Luft gefüllt ist, die Straße; neben anderen Schwimmern in trüben Gewässern, Zuschauer.

modeatoutprix.blogspot.fr/2014/02/539-reine-en-son-chatea...

The glorious disarray that is Southwold "harbour".

Princes Street Gardens is a public park in the centre of Edinburgh, Scotland, in the shadow of Edinburgh Castle. The Gardens were created in the 1820s following the long draining of the Nor Loch and the creation of the New Town. The Nor Loch was a large loch in the centre of the city which was heavily polluted from centuries of sewage draining downhill from the Old Town. In the 1840s the railway was built in the valley, and Waverley Station opened in its present form in 1854.

The gardens run along the south side of Princes Street and are divided by The Mound. East Princes Street Gardens run from The Mound to Waverley Bridge, and cover 8.5 acres. The larger West Princes Street Gardens cover 29 acres and extend to the adjacent churches of St. John's and St. Cuthbert's, near Lothian Road in the west.

~ info from wiki

~ title from a poem by William Earnest Henley

Above the Crags that fade and gloom

Starts the bare knee of Arthur's Seat;

Ridged high against the evening bloom,

The Old Town rises, street on street;

With lamps bejewelled, straight ahead,

Like rampired walls the houses lean,

All spired and domed and turreted,

Sheer to the valley's darkling green;

Ranged in mysterious disarray,

The Castle, menacing and austere,

Looms through the lingering last of day;

And in the silver dusk you hear,

Reverberated from crag and scar,

Bold bugles blowing points of war.

Warszawa, Poland

Autumn

New collection of NFT on Foundation

Living in the city is often complicated by the confusion of disarray, which I am constantly fascinated by. People, structures, motion, and noise contribute to how the city reveals itself to me.

In this collection, I used the walls of glass that make up the cityscape and give another point of view that can go unnoticed as they blend into a chaotic display.

Each 1/1 is a single image taken in Warsaw over several years. None are double exposure.

Instagram. Website. Behance. linktr.ee/ewitsoe

inspired by & in search of the new taller bratz I ventured to my major stores for the first time since before Christmas. It's always interesting to see what state of disarray the toy sections are in post christmas & pre restocking for the new year. Target had zilch but TRU had some high points - at least nine DDG Spectras for one - and amongst what I saw were some new Winx: Harmonix dolls (multiples) for Stella & Bloom as well as some city style girls. Stella, as well as Bloom, had 2 for me to choose from and after some deliberation I choose a Stella with a slightly higher front bang but better blush. Satisfied, I casually looked through the minis they had & immediately grabbed the Musa from the concert series. Still no new Brat yet but I was glad to see our girls from Alfea!

Cosmetic Fair Fall Edition

October 15th / 30th

CF FALL EDITION Flickr Group; www.flickr.com/groups/cosmeticfair/

SPONSORS

cStar Limited, DEAD APPLES, Essences, Glam Affair, Pink Acid, Shakeup

BRANDS

Action, Adored, a.e.meth, Alice Project, Alvulo, Bens Beauty, Birdy, blackLiquid, BSD Design, Chelle,

Chic Zafari, [ef] Eskimo Fashion, FLAIR, Handmade, Joli, KOSH, KoKoLoReS, La Malvada Mujer, Lovely Disarray,

LOVELY MI, LPD, Miss C, MONS, Nuuna, Oceane, Paperbag, Pekka, Rozena, Tableau Vivant, Tarnished,

The Skinnery, TSG, White Widow, Vive9, Zibska

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German type R634 bunker of Stp12, Ravenoville St-Hurbert - Utah beach - Normandy, France

Utah beach is the codename for the westernmost of the 5 Allied landing zones during D-day. It is the only beach on the Cotentin peninsula and closest to the vital harbour city of Cherbourg. Together with Omaha beach it is the sector where the American forces were disembarked. The amphibious assault, primarily by the US 4th Infantry Division and 70th Tank Battalion, was supported by airborne landings of the 82nd and 101st Airborne Division. These Airborne troops were dropped on the Cotentin penisula.

In stark contrast with Omaha beach where the landing turned into a near disaster with most of the troops pinned down for hours with heavy losses in both men and material the landings at Utah went relatively smooth. This does not mean the GI's came ashore unopposed: some 200 casualties were suffered by the 4th division.

One of the factors that contributed to this success was that the preliminary bombing of the target areas here was accurate and the German forces - in contrast with what happened at Omaha beach - were in disarray at H-hour, 06:30, when the first wave of 20 landing craft approached the beach. The GI's of the 2nd Battalion, 8th Infantry landed on Uncle Red and Tare Green sectors. What they didn't know initially was that pushed to the south by strong currents they landed some 1.8 kilometres south of their designated landing spot!

Brigadier General Theodore Roosevelt, Jr. was the first high ranking officer that landed and , not discouraged by the dviation, he decided to "start the war from right here". He ordered further landings to be re-routed. As it was this was a good decision because the Americans landed on a relative weak spot in the German defenses. Only one "Widerstandsnest" (WN5) opposed them and it was severely affected by the preliminary bombardments. It took the GI's about an hour to clear the defenses. Today the remains of this German widestandsnest can still be seen and are partly incorporated into the Utah beach museum. Well worth a visit.

After the succesful landings the real difficulties started because of the inundated areas behind the beach and the increasing German resistance which lead to weeks of fighting on the Cotentin peninsula.

On the Photo:

German type R634 bunker of Stp12, Ravenoville St-Hurbert just behind Utah beach. Part of the "Atlantic wall" .

Tonemapped using three (handheld) shots made with a Fuji X-Pro3 and Fujinon 23mm f/2 lens, augustus 2020.

A set of photo's with notes of Utah Beach and the Cotentin peninsula with the Airborne sectors.

Some people choose to see the ugliness in this world, the disarray. I choose to see the beauty.

We're Here - clutter, litter, mess, and muddle

Group Description

It's about clutter, disarray, confusion, derangement, disorder, hodgepodge, huddle, jumble, litter, mess, muddle, rummage, scramble, shuffle, tumble, untidiness, pig sty.

I've had these balloons up way too long with plans of getting a picture. I finally got around to it and thought the idea worked for the We're Here theme. Of course, when I get back on Flickr I get computer problems. Last time my computer crashed and I lost a lot of work. This time I had a corrupt graphics card driver and problems with my mouse and keyboard. Now my photos don't look the same in Photoshop as they do in Lightroom. It's like something is telling me to stop taking photos...

Utah Beach - Normandy, France , august 2020

Utah Beach - Normandy, France.

Utah beach is the codename for the westernmost of the 5 Allied landing zones during D-day. It is the only beach on the Cotentin peninsula and closest to the vital harbour city of Cherbourg. Together with Omaha beach it is the sector where the American forces were disembarked. The amphibious assault, primarily by the US 4th Infantry Division and 70th Tank Battalion, was supported by airborne landings of the 82nd and 101st Airborne Division. These Airborne troops were dropped on the Cotentin penisula.

In stark contrast with Omaha beach where the landing turned into a near disaster with most of the troops pinned down for hours with heavy losses in both men and material the landings at Utah went relatively smooth. This does not mean the GI's came ashore unopposed: some 200 casualties were suffered by the 4th division.

One of the factors that contributed to this success was that the preliminary bombing of the target areas here was accurate and the German forces - in contrast with what happened at Omaha beach - were in disarray at H-hour, 06:30, when the first wave of 20 landing craft approached the beach. The GI's of the 2nd Battalion, 8th Infantry landed on Uncle Red and Tare Green sectors. What they didn't know initially was that pushed to the south by strong currents they landed some 1.8 kilometres south of their designated landing spot!

Brigadier General Theodore Roosevelt, Jr. was the first high ranking officer that landed and , not discouraged by the dviation, he decided to "start the war from right here". He ordered further landings to be re-routed. As it was this was a good decision because the Americans landed on a relative weak spot in the German defenses. Only one "Widerstandsnest" (WN5) opposed them and it was severely affected by the preliminary bombardments. It took the GI's about an hour to clear the defenses. Today the remains of this German widestandsnest can still be seen and are partly incorporated into the Utah beach museum. Well worth a visit.

After the succesful landings the real difficulties started because of the inundated areas behind the beach and the increasing German resistance which lead to weeks of fighting on the Cotentin peninsula.

On the Photo:

German Tobruk stand - a defensive position for a MG or mortar crew. Part of the "Atlantic wall," on Utah beach.

Shot with a Fuji X-pro3 and Fujinon 23mm f/2 lens, augustus 2020.

A set of photo's with notes of Utah Beach and the Cotentin peninsula with the Airborne sectors.

Charleville Mansion, a century-old deserted castle, was built in the British Era in Shimla, the hill station in the state of ‘Himachal Pradesh’ in North India. In colonial era, Shimla was the summer capital of the British rulers. The climate of Shimla resembles the climate of England, so the British colonials used to stay in Shimla for the summer months for avoiding the terrible heat of India. This way Shimla was made with prominent British influence. Even today, the old mansions are bearing that influence.

Charleville Mansion is one of such mansions that were made in British era. This mansion is said to be haunted since long. In 1913, Victor Bayley who was appointed as Assistant Secretary of the Railway Board arrived in Shimla along with his lovely wife and was searching for a good mansion for them. Charleville Mansion was available at that time at quite an low rent for some reasons. Victor and his wife both liked the house very much and decided to move in immediately. When they inquired about the reason for such low rent, they were told of a spooky tale; but they both ignored the tale completely. After few days they started living in mansion, supernatural incidents started to happen. One night, they heard a loud crashing sound from the room and when he opened it to check, he found the room in a complete state of disarray. Everything in the room had been turned upside down; furniture thrown against the wall and mirrors broken; as if a storm had just passed through there. One night they saw a shadow figure of an English man walking from one room to another room. The very next day, Bayley and his wife decided to vacate the place. After that incident, many people tried to live in the mansion but they vacated the mansion in few days. Since long, no one dared to stay in the mansion.

(The above shot is dedicated to special one who is my inspiration to search history)

These three galaxies, collectively known as NGC 7764A, were imaged by the Hubble Space Telescope. The two galaxies in the upper right of the image appear to be interacting with one another — indeed, the long trails of stars and gas extending from them both give the impression that they have both just been struck at great speed, thrown into disarray by the bowling-ball-shaped galaxy to the lower left of the image. In reality, however, interactions between galaxies happen over very long time periods, and galaxies rarely collide head-on with one another. It is also unclear whether the galaxy to the lower left is actually interacting with the other two, although they are so relatively close in space that it seems possible that they are. By happy coincidence, the collective interaction between these galaxies have caused the two on the upper right to form a shape, which from our Solar System's perspective, ressembles the starship known as the USS Enterprise from Star Trek!

Credit: ESA/Hubble & NASA, J. Dalcanton, Dark Energy Survey, DOE, FNAL, DECam, CTIO, NOIRLab/NSF/AURA, ESO

Acknowledgement: J. Schmidt

For more information, visit: esahubble.org/images/potw2204a/

Find us on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook and YouTube

thespouge.wordpress.com/2014/02/09/werewolf/

&

www.societyablaze.com/2014/02/i-threw-away-my-sins.html

=)

Konstantinovsky Palace is located in the Petrodvorets district of St. Petersburg in the village of Strelna. The Grand Palace in the southern Gulf of Finland, which was then called “the Konstantinovsky” was built almost the entirely during the eighteenth century. The Palace was intended for Peter the Great as his summer residence and construction was started in 1720. However in 1721 work was suspended as Peter the Great decided to build a residence at Peterhof because of its more favorable location. Architect Michetti took drawings of the palace and left the country. Elizabeth I eventually resumed construction of the palace and invited famous architect Bartolomeo Francesco Rastrelli. The present building of the Grand Palace eventually became the property of Grand Duke Konstantin Pavlovich. Since then, the palace became known as “Konstantinovsky”. The next owner of the palace was the son of Nicholas I, Konstantin. It was during this time the front of the royal residence was finally completed.

After the 1917 revolution Konstantinovsky Palace fell into disarray. Valuable books, documents, a rich collection of paintings and ceramics, and personal belongings of the royal family were scattered in various museums or even irretrievably lost. It was at this time the Palace hosted a school, a sanatorium, and finally a training center for the Navy.

During the World War II Konstantinovsky Palace was equipped with a German observation post. As a result of massive shelling and a fire the building was destroyed down to a stone skeleton. Eventually Russia took back the Palace from the Germans but the damage was already done.

The building gradually began to decline due to lack of interest in preservation. In 1990, the Palace and park complex were placed under the protection of UNESCO. Only 11 years later by declaration of then president of Russia Vladimir Putin, Konstantin Palace and Park were assigned to the presidential administration. For the 300th anniversary of St. Petersburg Konstantinovsky Palace was restored and received a new status – the state complex “The Palace of Congresses.” It is now considered the Presidential Residence in St. Petersburg and has had comparisons made with the White House in America.

The renovated Konstantinovsky Palace hosted more than fifty heads of state during St. Petersburg tercentenary celebrations in 2003, with Berlusconi, Blair and Bush among them. Restoration of Strelna Palace and Park became a symbol of the revival of a great Russia and its national cultural heritage.

Today in the newly refurbished state rooms of the Konstantinovsky Palace regularly hosts meetings at the highest political level, scientific and political forums, corporate parties, banquets, cocktail parties, receptions, balls and fashion shows.

A wide range of excursions are offered to visitors. In the palace itself you can see the Blue, Marble and “Belvedere” halls, the various presidential suites, and you will be told about the events of the summits held there. In addition there are the following excursions (some of them are held only during the summer season):

- Peter the Great’s revitalized ideas

- The present and the past centuries

- The collection of the Konstantinovsky Palace.

- Russian Versailles

- The Consulate Village

- Visiting a wine cellar (including wine sampling)

- Riding the electric cars used by the world presidents during the G8 summit

We came back late last night from our holiday, and I finally got around to retrieving my computer from the repair shop and unloading the mountain of raw files from my memory cards. Everything is in disarray, but it's good to be back. The vacation was wonderful, but far too much driving. We saw a lot of interesting terrain, which I'll be sharing over the next few weeks. A warm greeting to all my Flickr friends!

This shot was taken at the Bear Creek Provincial Park Campground, across the lake from Kelowna, BC. I woke up at 3:00 am and took my camera out to the lake. The weather was beautiful there (as always). I tried a few very long exposure shots at low ISO with my camera resting on logs or rocks, as it was still very dim.

6D with EF 17-40mm f/4L: f/11; FL: 17mm; SS: 10; ISO: 100; shot in RAW and PP in Lightroom 5; a touch of unsharp (and cloning out of some lights) in Gimp.

por Augusto Ferrer-Dalmau

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Rocroi, 1643: where the Tercios lost everything but honour and gallantry

By Manuel de la Fuente

Source:ABC

Despite the heavy defeat, our people behaved with such bravery that even the French recognised it.

At Rocroi they beated us, but even when bent and disjointed we also fought back, right down to the last drop of blood. Three hundred and seventy years have passed since the lands of Rocroi were so generously watered by our people with such a waste of life, valour and gallantry as it is seldom seen.

It was there at Rocroi, between France and Belgium, yes, in the Ardennes, just where the Americans faced a terrible Nazi counter-offensive seven decades ago, that our Tercios lost everything except honour and gallantry. Until their last breath, when their bodies were already martyred by countless wounds and bruises, our compatriots resisted those great Spaniards who, thousands of kilometres from their homeland managed to ensure that with their blood, sweat and tears (brave men are not afraid to cry) the sun did not set on Spain for many long and glorious years. Legendary warrior ardour, which we did not lose even in the direst straits.

The Spanish troops were commanded by the Portuguese knight Francisco de Melo, but the day had not yet dawned, when on 19 May 1643, and in the said Rocroi (which the Spaniards had besieged, and was ready for the assault) the innumerable French soldiers launched themselves, it is said that at about three in the morning, against our countrymen.

The French were commanded by Louis II de Bourbon-Condé, Duke of Enghien, and the Spanish troops by the Portuguese knight Francisco de Melo, then Captain General of the Tercios de Flandes, who awaited the arrival of Jean de Beck’s support. For six long, Dantesque hours, twenty-some thousand against twenty-some thousand on each side, pikes, swords, spears, arquebuses, cannonballs, disembowelled horses, dreadful wounds, legions of heroes in the dust, blows, stabs, stabs, and stabs, urine and mud… and a gigantic legion of dead on both sides. Very few, though there were some, but hardly any with a surname of our own, refused that terrible chalenge of History. They had to leave their skin and guts behind, and the Spaniards of those memorable Tercios certainly did,

The cruel chessboard of Rocroi

But let us get down to the cruel chessboard of the terrible game of Rocroi. The chronicles tell us that the French left flank was commanded by La Ferté, the centre by L’Hôpital, and on the right by a certain Gassion. The rearguard was under the command of the Marquis de Sirot.

The Spaniards thought at first that the French were preparing to reinforce the town and that for the moment at least, they were not thinking of a battle in the open. So our countrymen placed the fearsome Spanish Tercios in the vanguard, the privilege they had earned by fighting like wild beasts for decades, while the Walloon and German mercenaries formed the rearguard led by Count Paul-Bernard de Fontaine, a fellow from Lorraine, i.e. French, sixty-six years old at the time, but serving the King of Spain as best as God gave him to understand.

Meanwhile, the imperial cavalry was positioned on the flanks. The right flank was filled with Alsatian troops under the Count of Isenburg, while the Flemish cavalry, commanded by the Duke of Alburquerque, was on the left and, ahead of them all, the artillery.

Of course, and not always with loyalty, chronicles and chronicles of this battle have been written over the centuries. Everything has been said and written, but the course of history has clarified many things and provided sufficient clues to enable us today to construct a fairly accurate account of the carnage.

The French were looking very happy, flags in the wind, but suddenly…they mounted up, bit their spurs and galloped with full force against our right wing, swords sharpened in the night, but suddenly they came upon a large host of emboldened Imperial arquebusiers on a small hill. The Spanish gunpowder fell like a thunderbolt on the French cavalry, causing them considerable damage. To finish them off, the Flemish centaurs, commanded by Alburquerque, arrived at a gallop and, after a few blows and thrusts, they launched themselves at the French artillery from which they stole several pieces.

Strategists after the event

Expert strategists say (knowingly and a posteriori, of course) that perhaps at that time, with the French disorganised and battered, our leader, this Melo, should have taken a gamble and given the enemy a clean sweep. But he did not do so, while the leader of the Gauls, Enghien, who knew how to re-establish order in his lines and move on to the counter-attack, was quick and wise and managed to cause a great deal of harm among our people.

Many Spaniards left this world, others retreated as fast as their strength allowed them, while the Duke of Alburquerque resisted at the head of his riders like a bull, This surname has always been one of confidence and brilliant riding, as one of the heirs of this Duke, also the Duke of Alburquerque, the eighteenth of the lineage, a brilliant rider called Beltrán de Osorio, and at the time faithful squire of Don Juan de Borbón throughout his life would demonstrate on our racecourses a long time later.

But it is time to return to the field of martyrdom of Rocroi, where Mars wanted to wear his best but always sinister combat clothes.

The next terrible onslaught of the French commanded by Gassion came against good company of our loyal infantry in the form of several squadrons. The fight was hand to hand and we would even say soul to soul. In it, we lost a good handful of Spaniards on foot, with sublime hearts, and also some of their captains, such as the Count of Fontaine and officers such as the Count of Villalba and Antonio de Velandia, brave commanders of the Tercio until that day when they signed the last contract, the one that is sealed before the Grim Reaper, for the sake of beloved Spain.

Wounded and dead formed a frightful mess. Things were getting more than ugly on our left flank and the commanding general himself, Francisco de Melo, galloped towards it in order to recompose the situation, while the French fell on the Spanish rearguard, nourished by Germans and Walloons, and produced a gigantic scare in it. The wounded, the dead and the prisoners made up a gigantic jumble of horror.

There was no area left on the Rocroi field where there was no fighting to the last breath. The French and Spaniards showed on the field with their blood and with their generous guts why they were nations to be feared when there was a fight involved. There, at Rocroi, even the chiefs were taken prisoner, like the French La Ferté. Another of the main commanders, La Barre, passed away there and then, while L’Hôpital was also wounded and the Captain-General himself on that day, Enghien, could not get enough to cheer up his troops, now here, then there, then there. But however Spanish we may be, and let us never forget the events of the Second of May, we must recognise that that Frenchman Enghien got it right.

Enghien, the French chief, had big balls. He took a gamble at that moment of the battle. He pulled on the bridles of what was left of his cavalry and there he went against the Spanish army’s core, driving a terrible fang through its centre and isolating the Spanish Tercios from the foreign allies in the process. We were screwed. Isenburg’s cavalry, scattered, the Italian Tercios fleeing in disarray and Melo, who certainly did not have his day, waiting for the arrival of the supposed reinforcements sent by Beck, who did not come out of this morning very well either, as some say that he arrived on time but when he found out that things were going from bad to worse he did not get involved, while others say that he appeared in the fight when nothing could be done.

Melo was caught in the act

Melo was almost caught by surprise by the French, although he was able to take cover with a troop from an Italian Tercio that did nothing but run for cover whenever the French appeared. Our troops, meanwhile, gathered the few remaining troops, more or less unharmed, but full of stitches, cuts and blows, and joined together to form a large rectangle with pikes locked and muskets ready, united in a single body as the Macedonian phalanxes had done many centuries before. At the first possible moment, they pulled the musketry and broke the first French attacks, to the point that they almost blew the brains out of Generalissimo Enghien’s head, who was shot through the breastplate and kissed the ground at Rocroi, his horse being torn to shreds on the spot.

Let us recognise that the French also rose to the occasion, and despite the bravery of our compatriots, they returned to the charge again and again. On and on they went. And there was no more talk of gunpowder, arquebuses or muskets. The time had come for steel to decide who would win the day. Close combat, knife thrust and cut, Spaniards and Frenchmen killed each other thoroughly. After several assaults and attacks, only a few veterans of the Tercios de Garcíez and Villalba were left standing, and with their weapons already dented, they defended themselves by biting down on anything that smelt French. But then came the end.

And on this point, historians, four centuries later, still disagree. It seems, however, that the wily Enghien offered an honourable negotiation to our people before things could be turned upside down by the arrival of reinforcements. It is said that generous, the French leader offered to respect the life and freedom of the remaining survivors, to let them fly their flags and bear their arms, and even, if they wanted to take the road to their beloved Spain, to provide them with a silver bridge.

No guns, but without dismay

Some of our people accepted. But others did not and remained in the fray, even though we had no guns left. In the end, they had to surrender but they lost neither honour nor pride, and the French remained faithful to their generous offers of surrender. Five thousand of our men would never again see our sun, nor our land; they remained forever, lost but immortal, on the sands of Rocroi. Despite the destruction, the Tercios would still put up a good fight and would win resounding and resounding victories such as that of Valenciennes, also against the French.

For history, perhaps better for legend, is the reply of one of our survivors when asked by a French officer about the number of our people at Rocroi. “Count the dead”, replied that gallant Spaniard, honourable even in the last moments. We fought and we were beaten. We lost the battle, yes, but we did not lose our shame.

Spilling over the desk like a waterfall...Blueprints and wiring diagrams forgotten inside the office building of an abandoned factory that closed over a decade ago.

©James Hackland

A member of the station staff at Peterborough tries to placate some passengers wondering why the service to Stanstead Airport hasn't moved for 20 minutes as an East Midlands 158 draws up to the unit. A fatality near March had thrown the service into disarray and it would take most of the afternoon before services were back to normal.

Now that the latest version of the Slink Physique has been out for a bit, Eboni of Hucci has been creating new and updating previous fitted mesh items for it. This is her latest creation: the totally sexy, skin-baring and daring Danli Jumpsuit.

A satiny, deep V, backless halter meets snug-fitting cropped pants that just make those Physique curves pop. The Danli Jumpsuits are also available in standard sizes for classic avis. Grab the Collection (fat pack) so you can mix and match your top and bottom.

They throwin' paper at me rainin' like a thunder storm

Actin' like kiddies in the candy store, the candy store

They stealin' money out their girlfriend's drawer, their girlfriend's drawer

Just watch me

Shake that figure 8

Move slow, drop low, shake that ass like an earthquake

Shake that figure 8

So fast, make it clap, baby feed 'em that cake cake

--"Figure 8" by Malibu N Helene

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Hair: Little Bones. Youth (new! @ Fameshed)

Hairbase: [ef] Eskimo Fashion

Skin + Appliers: [TheSkinnery] Julie in Toffee (@ Shiny Shabby)

Body: Slink Physique V2.2

Eyes: adored bodyshop Siren Eyes

Eyeshadow 1: Essences Girl's Night Out Eyeshadow 03

Eyeshadow 2: La Malvada Mujer Jezebel N2

Eyeliner: Lovely Disarray Liner set # 1 To The Point

Lashes: Mon Cheri Falsies

Mouth: [PXL] SweetLips

Earrings: BvddyX Gold Square Vintage Pyramid Earrings

Body Chain: LUXE.

Bracelets: Chary. Gaia Bangles in Gold

Nails: Beauty by Alaskametro Orchid Set

Hands: Slink Av Enhancement Hands V2.0 Gesture

Pantsuit: Hucci Danli Jumpsuit Collection (new! @ Hucci mainstore)

Shoes: Hucci Imesse Pump Prime Collection

Feet: Slink Av Enhancement Feet High V2.0

Poses: Overlow Pack 49

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( location landmarks/slurls available at my tumblr)

But if you close the door, I'd never have to see the day again

Dark cloudy bars, shiny Cadillac cars

And the people on subways and trains

Looking grey in the rain as they stand disarrayed

Oh the people will dwell in the dark

(The Velvet Underground)

Yeah, the Lord is out. Maybe that's why the world is cascading into disarray - you name it - Lion air and the Java's seafloor, Pittsburgh Lord's sanctuary, Khashoggi, men women and children dying from bombs and starvation in Yemen, Syria, Boko Haram girls... you name it. Never ending. And to top it all, Neil Young has confirmed he's most definitely married to Daryl Hannah. And I didn't get a wedding invitation!

The sign was posted on a Barber shop in Toronto. Around noon. The Lord need a break too, I do not blame Him.

Skirt & top - {Pink Fairy} Mamacita 50L

Shoes - sass [sarah] sandals w/hud 100L

Hair - Magika - Disarray 100L

Sunglasses - A&D Clothing - Glasses -Lennon 0L SL17B

Choker - Spoiled - Pad Lock Choker 0L SL17B

After immersing myself in Ostend's streets for a few days, it's impossible to ignore the city's evolution from its heyday at the end of the 19th century until the end of the interbellum. Once celebrated as a coastal gem, it now grapples with architectural disarray and a lackluster aesthetic. Yet, amidst this urban tumult, a burst of creativity has emerged. Local and international artists have been invited to Ostend to adorn its streets with vibrant murals and street art. Today, street art and murals stand as integral elements of Ostend's cultural fabric, enticing visitors to wander its alleys with a fresh sense of curiosity and delight.

girls new wild vov hair inspired from popular shooter is out @ kustom9 monthly event.

mod / copy / no tran

band color hud included.

www.facebook.com/kustom9sl

maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/kustom9/125/126/21

wearing :

eye bandage - lovely disarray defect of society

top - pixicat hunter & spirit kee

Details @ Not Quite Pink

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“There is never a single, orthodox version of a myth. As our circumstances change, we need to tell our stories differently in order to bring out their timeless truth. In this short history of mythology, we shall see that every time men and women took a major step forward, they reviewed their mythology and made it speak to the new conditions. But we shall also see that human nature does not change much, and that many of these myths, devised in societies that could not be more different from our own, still address our most essential fears and desires.”

— “What is a Myth?”

A Short History of Myth, Karen Armstrong

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The Wolf and the Seven Little Goats

The other popular fairy tale it is similar to is The Goat and Her Three Kids. This is a Romanian literary fairy tale that was written several decades after the brothers Grimm passed away. Instead of seven, there are three kids. The oldest is hardheaded and outspoken and is the first to die, the youngest is quiet and obedient and is spared. There was some squabbling in youtube comments over which is the “true” version of the fairy tale and while the Grimm tale does predate it I’m not even sure that can provide a satisfactory answer. Most fairy tales have bits and pieces scattered back so far and so wide that finding an original anything is often literally impossible. Wolves or other monsters eating children or stones or even being turned into stone are common motifs, as are kids of various species and ages being warned against wolves and their tricks, and parents attempting to protect their young with knowledge and songs and wisdom and wile. These all are to be found in every culture in one form or another. It is an overarching theme of familial protection and instinct, protect the young ones from death, that we all share regardless of era or language. It is in everyone’s fairy tales if you look enough.

Brothers Grimm

source

…. and time was on my side for me to mess around with HDR treatment

This side of Kuala Lumpur is perhaps the least favorite side to be photographed by people as it is kinda dull with less interesting view to see.

This image is taken some time ago when I was roaming the area in that one fine morning. The area is called Pekeliling Flat, a one time resident area. here. The apartment buildings in this place are now practically left abandoned, scheduled to be demolished to make way for new buildings.

Despite of the buildings are less fit to be occupied, to my surprise, there are still a few families call this scruffy buildings as home. here

You had better believe me; I went up to the topmost floor of this apartment block, alone. The apartment block where I took the shot from is similar to the one on the bottom-left in the picture above. (Right, the elevator was still working)

As those few families occupied only the lower floors, I felt some kind of uncanny, eerie feeling to be up there all by myself. What more when the place was in complete disarray, cluttered with scraps and snippets left by the past inhabitants, with moss-covered damp floors and walls draped with fungi.

And the silence of it was deafening – I just couldn’t stand it. I quickly took a few shots and hurried my way down the elevator.

The reality that was idealised in the recent reflection shot - more real here. Strangely, though, I would miss much of this clutter and wouldn't like to lose it in a squeaky-clean (but sterile) new version of my hometown...

Birdy: Maisie Skin (Group Gift)

Ayashi: Midori Hair (Creepy Kawaii Fair)

Cathode Rays: Nyam Nyam Mouth

Slink: Hands

Remarkable Oblivion: Crown of Thorns

Lovely Disarray: Liner Set #1 - Doll

Olive: Gold Bell Necklace (Group Gift)

Imeka: Yoona Heart Bag

Adored: Golden Girl Nails

Cynful + Lil'Lace: Fureal Vest

Kyoot: Zipper Cord Pants

The Sugar Garden: Snow Bunny Boots

Then out spake brave Horatius,

The Captain of the gate:

“To every man upon this earth

Death cometh soon or late.

And how can man die better

Than facing fearful odds

For the ashes of his fathers

And the temples of his gods,

From Horatius at the Bridge by Thomas Babington, Lord Macaulay (1800–1859)

In around 506 BC a large Etruscan army lead by Lars Poresna, King of Clusium, marched on Rome. Among their number was Rome’s recently deposed King, Tarquinius Superbus, who hoped that following a successful campaign, he would be returned to the city’s throne.

Having recently engaged an army of Tarquin’s in an indecisive battle at Aricia, the Romans were expecting an invasion and hastily attempted to construct a fort on the Janiculum, a hill on the western side of the Tiber. However, owing to inadequate scouting, the troops stationed at the fort were surprised and overcome by the Eutruscan force, which proceeded to occupy the hill.

From the Janiculum, Porsena’s army launched an attack and advanced on Pons Sublicius. The Roman forces were now in disarray and the future of the newly formed republic looked bleak. However, just as all seemed lost a soldier named Horatius Cocles, accompanied by two others, namely Titus Herminius Aquilinus and Spurius Lartius (which, intriguingly, are Etruscan names) stepped forward to defend the bridge, using its narrow width to reduce the effectiveness of the large enemy force that bore down upon them. There they fought while to their rear the citizens of Rome gathered and, using but hand axes, began to chop down the bridge. Herminius and Spurius retreated as the bridge was almost destroyed, but Horatius fought on until the bridge had fallen, leaping into the river in full armour and swimming its width while coming under enemy fire. The attack was thus repulsed and Porsena forced into an unsuccessful siege of the city.

That, at least, is how the story goes according to Rome’s poets and historians. There have however always been questions about the story’s veracity and even Livy, whose history was as much about promoting Augustus Caesar’s legitimacy as it was about recording past events, casts doubt over some of its claims. It’s likely that Porsena succeeded in capturing Rome, for a short period at least (though there is no evidence to suggest that Tarquin’s throne was ever restored), and that Horatius’ exploits were later invented as a means of masking past defeats and promoting the idea of Rome’s inherent superiority. The Romans were, after all, skilled in the art of propaganda, a modern Latin word with ancient roots.

Whatever the truth, I think it makes for a fun little MOC.

You may notice that I’ve avoided using the familiar Roman Minifigure helmets and armour. This is because during this period the Roman Army was still fighting in the Greco-Etruscan style, where the phalanx was the master of the battlefield. This is over a hundred years before Rome comes into conflict with the Samnites and subsequently adopts the maniple system and around 400 years before Marius implements his reforms. The army was therefore vastly different in appearance and style to the one most people are familiar with. This is why I’ve gone for the Corinthian helmets, Hoplon shields and bronze and Linothorax type armour.

Finally, I’d like to quickly thank my mate Tim, who put me onto the Babington poem and helped push me towards depicting this piece of Roman history / myth. He also helped me out with some superb advice on photographing the model. He has a Warhammer blog over at Blogger; which if you’re interested is well worth checking out as apparently he’s known to be a bit of a wizard with the painting and landscaping and stuff.

After immersing myself in Ostend's streets for a few days, it's impossible to ignore the city's evolution from its heyday at the end of the 19th century until the end of the interbellum. Once celebrated as a coastal gem, it now grapples with architectural disarray and a lackluster aesthetic. Yet, amidst this urban tumult, a burst of creativity has emerged. Local and international artists have been invited to Ostend to adorn its streets with vibrant murals and street art. Today, street art and murals stand as integral elements of Ostend's cultural fabric, enticing visitors to wander its alleys with a fresh sense of curiosity and delight.

During the Great Floods of 1993, rail traffic west of Chicago was in complete disarray. As the flood waters made their way south down the Mississippi River plain, routes would flood as others to the north reopened. That's the case here--Norforlk Southern's ex-Wabash routes beyond Decatur, IL were underwater as the old Soo Line between Chicago and Kansas City reopened so the NS was running their hot autoparts trains over the former Milwaukee Road. Here is the #145 ducking under the Illinois Central at Genoa, IL with GP38AC #2827 leading GP50s 7022 and 7078 on only 14 cars for the Ford plant in Kansas City.

Compagnie ACIDU

NAGEUSES SUR BITUME

Cinq femmes en quête de synchronisation

Cinq nageuses synchronisées. Cinq femmes. « Interdites de piscine », elles se retrouvent à la rue et dans la rue, pour manifester leur désarroi, leur colère et leur désir ; sans piscine et sans eau, elles continuent d’avancer, de vivre… Nage ou crève ! Elles s’adaptent, s’inventent un monde afin de nager sur le bitume, dans une piscine remplie d’air, la rue ; aux côtés d’autres nageurs en eaux troubles, les spectateurs.

Company ACIDU

SWIMMERS ON BITUMEN

Five women in search of synchronization

Five synchronized swimmers. Five women. "Forbidden swimming pool", they find themselves in the street and in the street, to show their disarray, their anger and their desire; Without swimming pool and without water, they continue to advance, to live ... Swim or die! They adapt, invent a world in order to swim on the bitumen, in a pool filled with air, the street; Alongside other swimmers in troubled waters, the spectators.

Acidu Unternehmen

Schwimmer auf ASPHALT

Fünf Frauen auf der Suche für die Synchronisation

Fünf Synchronschwimmer . Fünf Frauen. „Forbidden Pool“, finden sie sich auf der Straße und auf der Straße ihre Bestürzung, Wut und den Wunsch zu zeigen; kein Pool und kein Wasser, sie weiterhin nach vorne zu bewegen, zu leben oder sterben ... Swim! Sie passen, erfinden eine Welt auf dem Asphalt schwimmen in einem Pool mit Luft gefüllt ist, die Straße; neben anderen Schwimmern in trüben Gewässern, Zuschauer.

Mamiya RB67

Mamiya Sekor 250mm f/4.5 MC

Kodak Portra 400NC

This image presents a striking portrait of a human face composed of—or dissolving into—fragments of technological components. The right side appears to disintegrate into cables, circuitry, and micro-elements, while the serene expression evokes introspection and calm. The contrast between organic form and mechanical disarray invites reflections on identity, the fusion of human and machine, and the fragility of technological being. It serves as a powerful allegory for the interface between consciousness and artificial intelligence.

You can use this image free of charge. The terms of use and the image download are available via the following link: pixabay.com/illustrations/face-fragment-technology-woman-...

#AIart #cyberportrait #digitalidentity #futuristicart #humanmachine #techfusion #conceptualart #posthumanism

This store didn't appear much different than a lot of others I've seen during a liquidation - things starting to get cluttered and in disarray in some areas already...

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JCPenney, 1970-built(?), Cass St. near Hwy 72, Corinth MS

august 2021

canon a-1 | canon fd 2/35 | portra 160

Shoes were up near the front of the store on the lower level, and typical for a liquidation, the department was in a noticeable state of disarray.

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Macy's, 2005-built (as Parisian, closed Spring 2021), Hwy. 385 at Houston Levee Rd., Collierville TN

Talus the Red is the last of the known Clavian skeletons. These red skeletons were reborn of magic steeped in blood.

As Skapular and the Red Star’s Legion landed in The Deadlands looking for the Heretic, Talus was sent with the rest of his crimson-hued brethren to repelled the invaders. Rushing into battle behind Clavian, Talus watched as Tibius and his army turn on the Congregation. Surrounded, Clavian confronted Skapular and was slaying by the Axe of Xarria. With most of the Necronomius in disarray, a troll hit Talus in to the ocean.

Talus walked the ocean floor for more years then he would admit to. When he finally walked to shore he started to raid small villages and settlements for weapons. Along the way he meet several other cast offs, Muskeg the Bog Goblin, the Shadow Elves, Cethin and Ozul, and Senka a vampire survivor of Skapular’s conquest of the White Spine. Now they run rackets in the North Woods with aspirations of become something more...

Utah Beach - Normandy, France.

Utah beach is the codename for the westernmost of the 5 Allied landing zones during D-day. It is the only beach on the Cotentin peninsula and closest to the vital harbour city of Cherbourg. Together with Omaha beach it is the sector where the American forces were disembarked. The amphibious assault, primarily by the US 4th Infantry Division and 70th Tank Battalion, was supported by airborne landings of the 82nd and 101st Airborne Division. These Airborne troops were dropped on the Cotentin penisula.

In stark contrast with Omaha beach where the landing turned into a near disaster with most of the troops pinned down for hours with heavy losses in both men and material the landings at Utah went relatively smooth. This does not mean the GI's came ashore unopposed: some 200 casualties were suffered by the 4th division.

One of the factors that contributed to this success was that the preliminary bombing of the target areas here was accurate and the German forces - in contrast with what happened at Omaha beach - were in disarray at H-hour, 06:30, when the first wave of 20 landing craft approached the beach. The GI's of the 2nd Battalion, 8th Infantry landed on Uncle Red and Tare Green sectors. What they didn't know initially was that pushed to the south by strong currents they landed some 1.8 kilometres south of their designated landing spot!

Brigadier General Theodore Roosevelt, Jr. was the first high ranking officer that landed and , not discouraged by the dviation, he decided to "start the war from right here". He ordered further landings to be re-routed. As it was this was a good decision because the Americans landed on a relative weak spot in the German defenses. Only one "Widerstandsnest" (WN5) opposed them and it was severely affected by the preliminary bombardments. It took the GI's about an hour to clear the defenses. Today the remains of this German widestandsnest can still be seen and are partly incorporated into the Utah beach museum. Well worth a visit.

After the succesful landings the real difficulties started because of the inundated areas behind the beach and the increasing German resistance which lead to weeks of fighting on the Cotentin peninsula.

On the Photo:

Uncle Red sector - view towards the north.

Tonemapped using three (handheld) shots made with a Fuji X-T3 and Fujinon 16mm f/1.4 lens, september 2019.

A set of photo's with notes of Utah Beach and the Cotentin peninsula with the Airborne sectors.

More Details on My Blog

St Andrew and St Patrick, Elveden, Suffolk

As you approach Elveden, there is Suffolk’s biggest war memorial, to those killed from the three parishes that meet at this point. It is over 30 metres high, and you used to be able to climb up the inside. Someone in the village told me that more people have been killed on the road in Elveden since the end of the War than there are names on the war memorial. I could well believe it. Until about five years ago, the busy traffic of the A11 Norwich to London road hurtled through the village past the church, slowed only to a ridiculously high 50 MPH. If something hits you at that speed, then no way on God's Earth are you going to survive. Now there's a bypass, thank goodness.

Many people will know St Andrew and St Patrick as another familiar landmark on the road, but as you are swept along in the stream of traffic you are unlikely to appreciate quite how extraordinary a building it is. For a start, it has two towers. And a cloister. And two naves, effectively. It has undergone three major building programmes in the space of thirty years, any one of which would have sufficed to transform it utterly.

If you had seen this church before the 1860s, you would have thought it nothing remarkable. A simple aisle-less, clerestory-less building, typical of, and indistinguishable from, hundreds of other East Anglian flint churches. A journey to nearby Barnham will show you what I mean.

The story of the transformation of Elveden church begins in the early 19th century, on the other side of the world. The leader of the Sikhs, Ranjit Singh, controlled a united Punjab that stretched from the Khyber Pass to the borders of Tibet. His capital was at Lahore, but more importantly it included the Sikh holy city of Amritsar. The wealth of this vast Kingdom made him a major power-player in early 19th century politics, and he was a particular thorn in the flesh of the British Imperial war machine. At this time, the Punjab had a great artistic and cultural flowering that was hardly matched anywhere in the world.

It was not to last. The British forced Ranjit Singh to the negotiating table over the disputed border with Afghanistan, and a year later, in 1839, he was dead. A power vacuum ensued, and his six year old son Duleep Singh became a pawn between rival factions. It was exactly the opportunity that the British had been waiting for, and in February 1846 they poured across the borders in their thousands. Within a month, almost half the child-Prince's Kingdom was in foreign hands. The British installed a governor, and started to harvest the fruits of their new territory's wealth.

Over the next three years, the British gradually extended their rule, putting down uprisings and turning local warlords. Given that the Sikh political structures were in disarray, this was achieved at considerable loss to the invaders - thousands of British soldiers were killed. They are hardly remembered today. British losses at the Crimea ten years later were much slighter, but perhaps the invention of photography in the meantime had given people at home a clearer picture of what was happening, and so the Crimea still remains in the British folk memory.

For much of the period of the war, Prince Duleep Singh had remained in the seclusion of his fabulous palace in Lahore. However, once the Punjab was secure, he was sent into remote internal exile.

The missionaries poured in. Bearing in mind the value that Sikh culture places upon education, perhaps it is no surprise that their influence came to bear on the young Prince, and he became a Christian. The extent to which this was forced upon him is lost to us today.

A year later, the Prince sailed for England with his mother. He was admitted to the royal court by Queen Victoria, spending time both at Windsor and, particularly, in Scotland, where he grew up. In the 1860s, the Prince and his mother were significant members of London society, but she died suddenly in 1863. He returned with her ashes to the Punjab, and there he married. His wife, Bamba Muller, was part German, part Ethiopian. As part of the British pacification of India programme, the young couple were granted the lease on a vast, derelict stately home in the depths of the Suffolk countryside. This was Elveden Hall. He would never see India again.

With some considerable energy, Duleep Singh set about transforming the fortunes of the moribund estate. Being particularly fond of hunting (as a six year old, he'd had two tutors - one for learning the court language, Persian, and the other for hunting to hawk) he developed the estate for game. The house was rebuilt in 1870.

The year before, the Prince had begun to glorify the church so that it was more in keeping with the splendour of his court. This church, dedicated to St Andrew, was what now forms the north aisle of the present church. There are many little details, but the restoration includes two major features; firstly, the remarkable roof, with its extraordinary sprung sprung wallposts set on arches suspended in the window embrasures, and, secondly, the font, which Mortlock tells us is in the Sicilian-Norman style. Supported by eight elegant columns, it is very beautiful, and the angel in particular is one of Suffolk's loveliest. You can see him in an image on the left.

Duleep Singh seems to have settled comfortably into the role of an English country gentleman. And then, something extraordinary happened. The Prince, steeped in the proud tradition of his homeland, decided to return to the Punjab to fulfill his destiny as the leader of the Sikh people. He got as far as Aden before the British arrested him, and sent him home. He then set about trying to recruit Russian support for a Sikh uprising, travelling secretly across Europe in the guise of an Irishman, Patrick Casey. In between these times of cloak and dagger espionage, he would return to Elveden to shoot grouse with the Prince of Wales, the future King Edward VII. It is a remarkable story.

Ultimately, his attempts to save his people from colonial oppression were doomed to failure. He died in Paris in 1893, the British seemingly unshakeable in their control of India. He was buried at Elveden churchyard in a simple grave.

The chancel of the 1869 church is now screened off as a chapel, accessible from the chancel of the new church, but set in it is the 1894 memorial window to Maharaja Prince Duleep Singh, the Adoration of the Magi by Kempe & Co.

And so, the Lion of the North had come to a humble end. His five children, several named after British royal princes, had left Elveden behind; they all died childless, one of them as recently as 1957. The estate reverted to the Crown, being bought by the brewing family, the Guinnesses.

Edward Cecil Guinness, first Earl Iveagh, commemorated bountifully in James Joyce's 1916 Ulysses, took the estate firmly in hand. The English agricultural depression had begun in the 1880s, and it would not be ended until the Second World War drew the greater part of English agriculture back under cultivation. It had hit the Estate hard. But Elveden was transformed, and so was the church.

Iveagh appointed William Caroe to build an entirely new church beside the old. It would be of such a scale that the old church of St Andrew would form the south aisle of the new church. The size may have reflected Iveagh's visions of grandeur, but it was also a practical arrangement, to accommodate the greatly enlarged staff of the estate. Attendance at church was compulsory; non-conformists were also expected to go, and the Guinnesses did not employ Catholics.

Between 1904 and 1906, the new structure went up. Mortlock recalls that Pevsner thought it 'Art Nouveau Gothic', which sums it up well. Lancet windows in the north side of the old church were moved across to the south side, and a wide open nave built beside it. Curiously, although this is much higher than the old and incorporates a Suffolk-style roof, Caroe resisted the temptation of a clerestory. The new church was rebenched throughout, and the woodwork is of a very high quality. The dates of the restoration can be found on bench ends up in the new chancel, and exploring all the symbolism will detain you for hours. Emblems of the nations of the British Isles also feature in the floor tiles.

The new church was dedicated to St Patrick, patron Saint of the Guinnesses' homeland. At this time, of course, Ireland was still a part of the United Kingdom, and despite the tensions and troubles of the previous century the Union was probably stronger at the opening of the 20th century than it had ever been. This was to change very rapidly. From the first shots fired at the General Post Office in April 1916, to complete independence in 1922, was just six years. Dublin, a firmly protestant city, in which the Iveaghs commemorated their dead at the Anglican cathedral of St Patrick, became the capital city of a staunchly Catholic nation. The Anglicans, the so-called Protestant Ascendancy, left in their thousands during the 1920s, depopulating the great houses, and leaving hundreds of Anglican parish churches completely bereft of congregations. Apart from a concentration in the wealthy suburbs of south Dublin, there are hardly any Anglicans left in the Republic today. But St Patrick's cathedral maintains its lonely witness to long years of British rule; the Iveagh transept includes the vast war memorial to WWI dead, and all the colours of the Irish regiments - it is said that 99% of the Union flags in the Republic are in the Guinness chapel of St Patrick's cathedral. Dublin, of course, is famous as the biggest city in Europe without a Catholic cathedral. It still has two Anglican ones.

Against this background then, we arrived at Elveden. The church is uncomfortably close to the busy road, but the sparkle of flint in the recent rain made it a thing of great beauty. The main entrance is now at the west end of the new church. The surviving 14th century tower now forms the west end of the south aisle, and we will come back to the other tower beyond it in a moment.

You step into a wide open space under a high, heavy roof laden with angels. There is a wide aisle off to the south; this is the former nave, and still has something of that quality. The whole space is suffused with gorgeously coloured light from excellent 19th and 20th century windows. These include one by Frank Brangwyn, at the west end of the new nave. Andrew and Patrick look down from a heavenly host on a mother and father entertaining their children and a host of woodland animals by reading them stories. It is quite the loveliest thing in the building.

Other windows, mostly in the south aisle, are also lovely. Hugh Easton's commemorative window for the former USAAF base at Elveden is magnificent. Either side are windows to Iveaghs - a gorgeous George killing a dragon, also by Hugh Easton, and a curious 1971 assemblage depicting images from the lives of Edward Guinness's heir and his wife, which also works rather well. The effect of all three windows together is particularly fine when seen from the new nave.

Turning ahead of you to the new chancel, there is the mighty alabaster reredos. It cost £1,200 in 1906, about a quarter of a million in today’s money. It reflects the woodwork, in depicting patron Saints and East Anglian monarchs, around a surprisingly simple Supper at Emmaus. This reredos, and the Brangwyn window, reminded me of the work at the Guinness’s other spiritual home, St Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin, which also includes a window by Frank Brangwyn commisioned by them. Everything is of the highest quality. Rarely has the cliché ‘no expense spared’ been as accurate as it is here.

Up at the front, a little brass plate reminds us that Edward VII slept through a sermon here in 1908. How different it must have seemed to him from the carefree days with his old friend the Maharajah! Still, it must have been a great occasion, full of Edwardian pomp, and the glitz that only the fabulously rich can provide. Today, the church is still splendid, but the Guinesses are no longer fabulously rich, and attendance at church is no longer compulsory for estate workers; there are far fewer of them anyway. The Church of England is in decline everywhere; and, let us be honest, particularly so in this part of Suffolk, where it seems to have retreated to a state of siege. Today, the congregation of this mighty citadel is as low as half a dozen. The revolutionary disappearance of Anglican congregations in the Iveagh's homeland is now being repeated in a slow, inexorable English way.

You wander outside, and there are more curiosities. Set in the wall are two linked hands, presumably a relic from a broken 18th century memorial. They must have been set here when the wall was moved back in the 1950s. In the south chancel wall, the bottom of an egg-cup protrudes from among the flints. This is the trademark of the architect WD Caroe. To the east of the new chancel, Duleep Singh’s gravestone is a very simple one. It is quite different in character to the church behind it. A plaque on the east end of the church remembers the centenary of his death.

Continuing around the church, you come to the surprise of a long cloister, connecting the remodelled chancel door of the old church to the new bell tower. It was built in 1922 as a memorial to the wife of the first Earl Iveagh. Caroe was the architect again, and he installed eight bells, dedicated to Mary, Gabriel, Edmund, Andrew, Patrick, Christ, God the Father, and the King. The excellent guidebook recalls that his intention was for the bells to be cast to maintain the hum and tap tones of the renowned ancient Suffolk bells of Lavenham... thus the true bell music of the old type is maintained.

This church is magnificent, obviously enough. It has everything going for it, and is a national treasure. And yet, it has hardly any congregation. So, what is to be done?

If we continue to think of rural historic churches as nothing more than outstations of the Church of England, it is hard to see how some of them will survive. This church in particular has no future in its present form as a village parish church. New roles must be found, new ways to involve local people and encourage their use. One would have thought that this would be easier here than elsewhere.

The other provoking thought was that this building summed up almost two centuries of British imperial adventure, and that we lived in a world that still suffered from the consequences. It is worth remembering where the wealth that rebuilt St Andrew and St Patrick came from.

As so often in British imperial history, interference in other peoples’ problems and the imposition of short-term solutions has left massive scars and long-cast shadows. For the Punjab, as in Ireland, there are no simple solutions. Sheer proximity has, after several centuries of cruel and exploitative involvement, finally encouraged the British government to pursue a solution in Ireland that is not entirely based on self-interest. I fear that the Punjab is too far away for the British to care very much now about what they did there then.