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Also called Goosefoot, Smearwort, Mercury Goosefoot, Wormseed, Mexican Tea, Spanish Tea, Lambsquarters is toxic to horses.
www.theequinest.com/care/toxic-plants/c/curly-leafed-dock...
This is the iPhone dock I posted a while ago from my iPhone, this time in better quality. It's a simple little tool that not only holds the cable in the proper position, but also routes the cable neatly out the back.
Another side shot. Most of the posts are there for added support and don't need to be. To make this set, most of the pieces are from the Lego Star Wars The Force Unleashed set. In the background, you can see the ATST set from the new Clone Wars Lego Star Wars stream.
The iPhone case I'm using is a Griffin hard shell case.
Welcome to Finn Slough and the Finn Slough Heritage & Wetland Society. The residents and fishers who live and work in this unique community invite you to explore the pages of this website and uncover the many delightful aspects of the "Slough"; its Finnish roots, the who's who of wildlife and plants, current events related to our community and its role in the rich heritage of the Fraser River.
Discover Finn Slough! Click on the buttons to the left and be sure to visit our Gallery to view images collected from today's artists.
Finn Slough (or sometimes Gilmore or Tiffin Slough) can be found on the south arm of the mighty Fraser River in Richmond, British Columbia, Canada. The Slough is bounded on the Fraser River side by Gilmour Island and on the north by a dyke built to protect Richmond. Access to homes on the Gilmour Island side of the Slough is by a wooden draw-bridge, creating a definite sense of isolation from the nearby urban areas of Richmond and Vancouver.
It is pronounced "slew".
Small is Beautiful and Other Slough Considerations
Part of a talk given by Nadeane Trowse at the 13th Annual Art About Finn Slough Show.
So. Small is beautiful. Maybe we should say significant or necessary. E M Forster said something in Howard’s End about how we forget this. Forester was complaining about a sort of jingoist enthusiasm for growth including urban sprawl in England after the railways were expanded: “…people think that a thousand square miles are a thousand times more wonderful than one square mile, and that a million square miles are almost the same as heaven”. In other words, small is beautiful and maybe assessments of absolute value are beyond the grid of size. Bigger isn’t better. We might reframe this and say that a very small number of acres of tidal wetlands at Finn Slough are very important, significant and I will explain.
Finn Slough is a back water, a by water (as Daphne Marlatt noted in her poem of the same name) a channel of tidal water between Tiffin Island and what amounts to Dyke Road, Richmond. On the other side of Tiffin Island (mostly a sand bar like feature) is the turbulent, powerful, unpredictable Fraser River. In the Slough is protected water, safe for young fish, fingerlings, and many species that need this highly specialized environment where the salt and fresh waters mingle and where the tide goes in and out twice a day.
I want to talk about the value of such an environment, and a few problems of losing the kinds of environments that are what used to be called “wastelands” and now are recognized as both essential and irreplaceable.
Let’s look again at the idea of “wasteland” and think about history and about the processes of life. Here are some questions rather than answers that come up. Why do we find it questionable for people to choose to live close to nature, in very small spaces, that do not aspire to current notions of architectural elegance? Why do we find the process of oxidation (the thing that happens to living things as they age…slow fire) unsightly? Why does the visible signs of aging offend? Why do people like to see the tide IN at Finn Slough, instead of seeing the living, rich, fertile, productive mud that Finn Slough rejoices in? Why do gently oxidizing pieces of wood suggest a lack … of uncaring, of inappropriate aesthetics, of slovenliness?
Just a quick example. Trees are beautiful. We all love to see a mature “specimen tree”… that means a tree that has exactly the right conditions and space available to achieve maximum typical growth. That mature perfect tree (rarely achieved) is not what every species needs to support its life though. Woodpeckers (which are plentiful at Finn Slough) need imperfect trees, branches sustaining insects to live. Towhees need a rubble of leaves and fallen branches on the ground to thrive. Very dead snags provide perches for raptors like eagles to hunt from. Open sheds, barn-like structures in imperfect states are the best for nesting swallows and even barn owls. Gilbert White in The Natural History of Selbourne says that “we would be choked with insects was it not for the friendly interposition of the swallow tribe”. How do we benefit from swallows if their nesting preferences are disregarded?
It is interesting to think about the often expressed wish to live with nature and Finn Slough certainly offers that. Nature is many things, however. Remember the biggest neighbour at Finn Slough is the Fraser River. Nature is not always sunny and smiling, green and picturesque… or rather, picturesque includes high winds, high waters, having that neighbour come to the doorstep, and then leave an interesting mess behind after the visit. The path gets tossed around a bit by the river and severe storms. And then put back. As they say in some computer work, that is not a problem it is a feature, if you can see it that way. And the circle of life relies on that feature… remember, that is how the Fraser built Richmond. Child of the mighty Fraser means that, too: mud, water, process, movement.
So we need to think outside of perfect or imperfect. Chopping off the parts of the circle we don’t appreciate aesthetically means the circle of life isn’t one after all. Circles are ideas; the recycling performed by natural processes is real and essential.
Small is beautiful because it keeps space for the circle to keep rolling.
Nadeane Trowse
I was just sitting. On this dock of the bay. Watching the tide roll away. Then, Otis Redding came and beat me silly.
Albert Dock has been an iconic Liverpool's landscape for over 160 years and remains a key feature of Liverpool's world-renowned Waterfront.
A scene now consigned to history as the service has switched to Trafford Park, here 09002 draws the Gbrf Felixstowe bound container train out of the Barton dock terminal.
Ian Williams and The Dead Flowers at Tamesis Dock, a converted 1930s Dutch barge, for 'What's He Building in There?' - a Tom Waits Tribute Night.
The Duluth docks of the Duluth, Missabe, & Iron Range Railroad. Dock #5 is on the right, and Dock #6 is on the left. I no longer recall what the ship was, though American Mariner or H. Lee White would be good guesses--as would a couple of their fleetmates.
Each dock is extends about a half mile into the harbor. Dock 5 is your classic, gravity-driven iron ore dock, while Dock 6 has been converted into a massive, modern, conveyor-driven shiploader. The shiploader permits the dock to service the 1000-foot ships which now dominate the trade. (I commented on this, from another perspective, a few days back.)
This photo was taken in 1990 from the viewing platform on the DMIR property. The camera was a throwaway panoramic point-n-shoot. (Since the date on this photo is certainly correct, my recent Soo & Marquette photos are dated incorrectly. I need to figure that out.)
Once located just inside the main gate, these were the former offices of the Surrey (Commercial) Docks which in its heyday comprised nine docks, six ‘mast ponds’ and a canal on a 460-acre site. From 1864, the Surrey Commercial Dock Company managed this dockyard for the trade and storage of timber on the Rotherhithe peninsula; it had been previously been run by three separate enterprises. The imposing Dock Office building served as general offices, Superintendent’s office, and a janitor’s house, with the Company’s engineer James McConnochie the likely architect.
When the docks closed in 1969, the building fell into disrepair, but it was rescued in 1985 by the London Docklands Development Corporation, which redeveloped the area from 1981. This grade 2 listed building is now a rare surviving remnant of what was one of the largest and most important of London’s docks in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Located at the dockyard entrance, its large clock tower would have been well known to those who arrived at work on the docks each day; with its bell-like roof with fishscale slates and a weathervane, it is still a prominent landmark in this much-changed industrial landscape.
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