View allAll Photos Tagged eery
Windy days are a sensory experience in many ways. I love being outdoors to absorb the energy and motion of wind. Love to feel the unseen pressure on my skin. Windy days in the cemetery provide all of that, but with an added touch that is somewhat unsettling. It has to do with seeing motion where there normally is none...where none is expected. That's all fine and good in my backyard. But here it always seems to catch me off guard. Not in the sense that I'm surrounded by ghosts (I am), but more to do with being the only living soul in the cemetery at any given time (I usually am). It can be startling to suddenly notice someone else there. More than once I've momentarily freaked out to find someone in close proximity while I was so engrossed with photography that I lost situational awareness. "How did this person get so close without my noticing?" I wonder. Funny part is I'm usually highly in tune with my locale while shooting; it's just that sometimes I drift off in thought, as I am right now...
Back to the wind. On this day I noticed small cyclones dancing about the cemetery. Miniature tornadoes is how I think of them, sucking up leaves and debris in a very small area and dragging them along for a ride before dropping them as they suddenly dissipate. Determined to photograph one of these whirlwinds, I set up on the edge of a large pile of dry leaves. I sat there for twenty minutes or more in hopes of a wind gust. Just as I decided to quit, a wind puffed up and a leaf cyclone appeared right in front of me. The effect raised goosebumps on both arms. Not from cold but from eeriness. It felt like getting breathed on by a ghost. And it was not a big stretch of imagination for me to visualize the flying leaves as spirits. I let the shutter click away as they enveloped me.
The old story of the Flying Dutchman ghost ship came true at Corpach this morning. Fog on the Caledonian Canal making it look really eery as she passed by heading to Neptune's Staircase.
This was shot on a magical misty morning in Deadvlei, Namibia. There is no sky in this image - what you're seeing in the background is a massive sand dune.
Our Namibia Untamed photo tour is always fully booked, but one of our guests had a very unfortunate accident and had to cancel. That’s why we can now offer you his spot with a whopping 1,500 EURO LAST MINUTE DISCOUNT!
Do yourself (and him) a favor, and grab that last seat! Single room.
More info: www.squiver.com/tours-workshops/namibia-2018/
Marsel | squiver.com
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©2018 Marsel van Oosten, All Rights Reserved. This image is not available for use on websites, blogs or other media without the explicit written permission of the photographer.
Just a few more days and we’re off to Louisiana and Texas for this year’s Into The Cypress Swamps tours. It’s primarily a landscape photography tour, but there are also opportunities to photograph animals such as alligators, snakes, and all kinds of birds.
The white egret is by far my most favourite bird in this region. Not because it’s so special, but because it’s white. This makes it stand out from the cluttered landscape so I can keep it small in the frame while showing a lot of habitat.
This photograph was taken handheld from my kayak in an area where the trees had died from some kind of disease. It was an eery-looking Tim Burtonesque forest, and the white egret was just what I needed for a shot.
- - -
INTO THE CYPRESS SWAMPS
Landscape photography tour
Texas & Louisiana, USA
31 Oct - 9 Nov 2017 > 1 space
13 - 22 Nov 2017 > FULL
26 Nov - 5 Dec > 4 spaces
Due to several last minute cancellations, we have a few openings on the first and the third date of our Into The Cypress Swamps landscape photography tour. We now offer a whopping $1,500 last minute discount for those remaining seats, so instead of paying $4,750 you can now join us for $3,250!
If you’re interested, have a look at the tour brochure for more information: ow.ly/pHE0100Kob0
After that, you can make a booking here: www.squiver.com/booking.html
#usa #louisiana #texas #phototour
The thing in the middle - might it be an urn? Some sort of humungous flower pot? A straight-sided open-topped barrel perhaps? Or is it just a big stone bird-bath?
I don't know. I am not particularly skilled at horticultural nomenclature.
What I do know, however, is that if you walk around it in a 90 degree arc, take a picture every few seconds and then layer all of the photos together when you get home, it takes on a rather wonderful, ghostly eeriness.
And, as an added bonus, something strange and other-worldly happens to the college facade too - it looks almost as if one were leafing back through the pages of it’s history.
Or something like that.
Usual caveats etc.
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20 hand-held exposures representing 1 minute and 5 seconds of March 8th 2024. Taken at West Dean College, West Sussex.
Prior to this mess we're having this road would carry many a motorhome etc. on to Maligne Lake. Not today, almost eery how quite it is on these roads now.
Medicine Lake, Alberta, Canada
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Just a few more weeks and I’m off to Namibia again for this year’s Namibia Untamed workshops. And even though it will be my kazillionth visit to this amazing country, I’m always looking forward to it every year.
Coincidentally, Red Bull decided today to share my award-winning Namibian Nights time-lapse video on their website: ow.ly/3xKYCm
The image you see here is basically a still from one of the scenes that was initially going to be in the video, but I later decided to leave it out. It’s a unique scene, as it’s the only footage in the world that shows fog appearing in Deadvlei, but I shot another one on the same night that worked better. Also, this image eventually led up to my winning Wildlife Photographer of the Year image Resurrection, so I decided to split the footage of this scene into separate photographs.
For the full story on the how and why, please read what I wrote for ‘Resurrection’.
This image is not perfect, as it was not supposed to be a photograph in the first place. However, I still quite like it because it shows a unique combination of fog, stars and light beams. Correct me if I’m wrong, but my guess is that there is no other image out there that combines these three elements. Or just stars and fog for that matter. It’s hard enough to get a fresh looking image from this location, so I cherish the ones that are one of a kind.
What’s funny, is that because this is a still from video, I have about 600 different versions. The differences are minute though, and the result of the amount of fog at the location at any given time.
By the way, the flashlight that I used for this scene is just a tiny little headlamp set to the lowest output. It stayed on for the entire night. The flashlight that I used for Resurrection however, is the Surefire Invictus, a monster that can also make x-rays of your abdomen when placed against your back.
If you're interested in joining us to Namibia, then you’re out of luck, unless you’re very patient. Both our 2015 and 2016 tours are already sold out, so the next opportunity will be 2017. I know, it’s crazy. Anyway, just in case, here’s where you can find more information on our tours:
Squiver Photo Tours & Workshops
Thanks for having a look.
Marsel
©2015 Marsel van Oosten, All Rights Reserved. This image is not available for use on websites, blogs or other media without the explicit written permission of the photographer.
Burlington Northern Sante Fe railroad spur and the Milky Way galactic core at Flannigan in northwestern Nevada USA on a somewhat hazy late spring evening.
(ignore any posted EXIF data...this is a blended image shot with a fully manual Rokinon 20mm lens...foreground was light painted at f5.6/ISO 800 for a few 3 minute exposures and the sky was 20 stacked frames at f2.8 and ISO 6400)
Excerpt from www.touristisrael.com/via-dolorosa/28670/:
Station 4: Where Mary watched her son passed by carrying the cross, marked by the Armenian Church of Our Lady of the Spasm. Inside the church is a remarkable 5th-century mosaic floor that includes an eery pair of sandals, said to be laid upon Mary’s footprints.
Devoke Water, Cumbria. You'd be hard-pressed to stumble across the place if you didn't know it was here. Totally isolated and absolutely silent. The little abandoned fishing lodge on the side of the lake adding to the eeriness of the place...
I just returned from this year’s last Africa tour - it’s been a hell of a ride with trips to Namibia, Zambia, Botswana and South Africa. I shot close to 2TB, so I guess it’s safe to say it was productive. The next three weeks I will spend at home, catching up on emails, working on stuff I should have finished four months ago, and I will finally be able to do some image processing - it’s about time.
Next trip will be our Into The Cypress Swamps tour in Louisiana and Texas, USA. This is a very special tour, because everything is done from kayaks. The locations we will visit can not be reached by car or even by foot, so you have to paddle. It’s an entirely different experience.
What also makes it special, is the fact that it’s so ridiculously beautiful and surreal. On a quiet, misty morning, like in this image, you hear not a single sound except for the water drops falling from your paddle. Especially in the dark, an hour before sunrise, it’s eery - but in a nice way. Of all the places I have been, this is by far the one that always gets to me when I’m there. There’s nothing like it.
There are many places on our planet that are incredibly beautiful, but there’s nothing like gliding through the water in a forest of cypress trees.
This image was shot on a cold an misty morning. The person paddling in the middle is my wife Daniella. I asked her to paddle towards me because I like to include people in my swamps images. It adds scale and a sense of adventure to the shot, and, until recently, there were no swamp images with people paddling in them.
To get this shot I had to get out of the kayak and stand in the icy cold water to be able to use my tripod. The cold water may be uncomfortable, it’s actually a good thing because it means the alligators are inactive
This year’s tour is already fully booked, but there are still a few spots on next year’s Into The Cypress Swamps tour. If you like trees and a bit of adventure, you will love this. The paddling is easy, so you don’t need to be an athlete. Check it out on our website!
Marsel | squiver.com
©2019 Marsel van Oosten, All Rights Reserved. This image is not available for use on websites, blogs or other media without the explicit written permission of the photographer.
Taken during forest fires in Oregon, all that smoke in the air turned the sun orange through the day, and a deep red closer to sunset. Was pretty eery looking. I had to use that light, so I messed around with some mantises I had with me.
Now I've got to be honest I've been struggling a bit thinking of what to write to go along with this image. I was thinking of just talking about the story around it, but yesterday I wrote down something I wanted to try and explore more, but it doesn’t immediately relate to this image. I think I'm going to try and connect the two…. first the story then the concept I was thinking….
So this shot was taken on our recent Easter lakes trip. The day was overcast and a bit dreary as you can see, so we headed to a Buddhist monastery on the coast that Cathy had wanted to go to for a few years. Generally speaking when the weather is a bit crap in the mountains, we tend head for the coast, (normally spending quite a lot of time in café’s, eating cake and drinking tea). But this time we opted for the mind-expanding option, (well simplification actually).
It was a very pleasant experience; we looked around the temple and spoke to a few of the monks, (nuns? Not sure if you call female Buddhists nuns). Anyway (one was from our home town and she had been to the same college I did years ago, weird eh), but moving the story on….
After our calming visit to the monastery, we opted to wander through the wooded grounds down to the sea. It turned out to only be a five min walk, before we emerged the woods and found ourselves on the beach. The sea had a still eeriness and was dramatically calm, very much reflecting our experience in the monastery. I quickly got excited by the subtle textures and calm forms that were there. (Don’t worry I am getting to the point).
One of the principals of Buddhism that I find interesting is impermanence and the desire to discard the ego. Kind of trying to unpeel an onion until you reach the core, disregarding the lairs of distracting elements. (Yep there is karma and reincarnation but that’s another story.) And it struck me that what I was doing was trying to capture the moment photographically in order to make permanent the view that was in front of me. In fact the very act of writing this is trying to record (and explore my thoughts and feelings of the experience).
Now I'm not going to stop doing what I really enjoy, but this experience has made me question the need I feel to capture the moment. To be honest I think I need to spend some more time thinking about this, and I'm not sure at the moment the outcome of this enquiry. But what I am sure of is that a deeper understanding of why will help me squeeze more richness out of the moment. (Kind of like being able to appreciate good wine, art or classical music).
Anyway I feel at the moment the very act of taking the time to look and try to capture, has enabled me a form of meditation (with a twist of frustration). A concentration on the moment to such a degree, that when I come into contact with such environments, I see more than I use to.
I personally feel desire to work out ways of gaining the most from life. Trying not to get too heavy on the last few sentences of this post. I genuinely feel that as I get older I tend to appreciate things more and being able to focus on the impermanence of life enables a kind of deeper appreciation…. Or is it that I'm the wrong side of 35 with a birthday coming up?
Doel, a village in the north of Antwerp ( Belgium ) that had to make way for the expansion of the Port of Antwerp. Years of fierce protests were the result, but they had to pay the price. Since many years it has become a ghost village with only a few inhabitants left.
The beauty of Doel does not hide in the eeriness of its abandoned houses, nor does it emerge from the paint on the barricaded doors and windows, covered in street art. It whispers to you from the past. The dying breath of a once peaceful village, build to last forever. She was a home to generations, unaware of her own transience. The insatiable hunger of progress caught her by surprise and confronted her unwillingly with a truth we all ignore: everything expires eventually. In a world where everything moves faster, builds bigger, consumes more,... all she can do is make the most out of the time she has left.
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Basin Tree frog (Boana lanciformis) - Finca las Piedras, Madre de Dios, Peru
I'm not used to being in the jungle and being cold. But during my last trip to Peru, my time there intersected with some friajes, arrivals of cold air masses from the South. Temperatures dropped dramatically and stayed low for several days at a time. Venturing into the jungle at this time was eery; no buzzzing insects, no calling frogs, and little activity. However, with some perseverance or stubbornness it was still possible to locate cold blooded critters. This Boana lanciformis was so cold and sluggish it didn't react at all to my approach and me photographing it from just a few cm away.
Nothing like a family get-together, lol =) The people that live here, went all out in creating this amazing, detailed Halloween setting! Are children brave enough to ring this doorbell, lol?!
At daybreak Pingdingshan was blanketed in a freezing fog. The locos were entering and leaving the depot by feeling their way through the gloop with eery whistles identifying the ghostly shapes.
We moved away from the shed to the lines leading to the outlying coal mines. At this crossing, the mournful bell was initially the only warning, but then the steady beat of the steam loco working hard could be heard and suddenly it burst out of the fog at an alarming speed considering the conditions, providing one of my favourite memories of Pingdingshan.
It was typical January weather for that central belt of China and the coal mining area of Pingdingshan, hence a bit of a struggle for the old Nikon D2X.
Henan Province, China.
January 2006. © David Hill
This was taken while riding around a new town being built next to mine. By bicycle, you literally have free roam to explore the shells of buildings and empty roads. Pretty cool
“What i like about photographs is that they capture a moment that’s gone forever, impossible to reproduce...”
~ Karl Lagerfeld
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Beneath this stone Drusilla lies,
Who clad herself in darkest dyes.
In somber hues she’d ever guise,
Pink satin’s touch she did despise.
Blythe a Day - Epitaph - 10/12/24
AI helped me create the epitaph
Daunting Drusilla Blythe
Black dress - Etsy
Headstones - Dollar tree
Crows - Amazon
Background and ground- scrapbook paper
black Halloween stem
View it LARGE SIZE or God might get angry : ]
This picture turned out to be one of my most interesting according to some flickr algorithms - thanks to all of you! I apreciate your kind comments and favs.
Btw.: I am very aware my feet look kinda disgusting in this shot - don't worry, I used a PS "Disgusting Feed Action".
Big up to Magritte!
P.S.: If you're thinking about putting a flashing [group, award, whatever] logo in the comments - just don't!
Doel, a village in the north of Antwerp ( Belgium ) that had to make way for the expansion of the Port of Antwerp. Years of fierce protests were the result, but they had to pay the price. Since many years it has become a ghost village with only a few inhabitants left.
The beauty of Doel does not hide in the eeriness of its abandoned houses, nor does it emerge from the paint on the barricaded doors and windows, covered in street art. It whispers to you from the past. The dying breath of a once peaceful village, build to last forever. She was a home to generations, unaware of her own transience. The insatiable hunger of progress caught her by surprise and confronted her unwillingly with a truth we all ignore: everything expires eventually. In a world where everything moves faster, builds bigger, consumes more,... all she can do is make the most out of the time she has left.
.
You can find a large number of full-resolution photos under a Creative Commons license on my official website: nenadstojkovicart.com/albums
More fog has set in as the main attraction for this particular trip to the area, a pair of Warbonnets bast east with BNSF Train Q STOCHI3 26 in tow. You can barely make out the Santa Fe Signals in the distance at West Baring.
I remember being mildly upset about the fog when this photo was taken, since it was sunny a few miles west in La Plata, but looking back the mist added an element of eeriness and moodiness to the scene, being that the SD75M and C44-9W were at the time basically resurrected from the dead.
Not long after this photo, both of these engines were back in long-term storage and weren't expected to turn another revenue wheel, but it appears they're back yet again.
Locomotives: BNSF 263, BNSF 689
9-30-14
Baring, MO
I’m very enamored with this old abandoned barn near my home in Lassen County, California. About every time I think I’m out of ways to photograph it, it proves me wrong. Such was the case on this evening as the rising Strawberry Moon of 2022 back lit it from low to the horizon. There was some haze in the distance, possibly from some wildfire activity that had already started, that made the reflected light cast a red-orange glow through the atomosphere. My camera “saw” this better than my eyes over the course of a 30 second exposure which accentuated the effect. The result is a rather eery looking yet warm image.
Title inspired by this view and E. Fudd, from ‘What’s Opera, Doc?’, which is some of Chuck Jones’s finest work, in my humble opinion. After an eery calm the day before, the south winds finally did blow, and the force of the wind was something of a spectacle to behold. The strength of the moving air drove into the surface of Lago Nordenskjöld and created a frothing seiche. As I opened the door to take this photo, for a split second I neglected to make a firm grip on the handle, and the door was wrenched from my hand. The hinges were lucky to escape bending.
In the initial planning phases of this trip, I had very much wanted to drive north up the secondary, gravel roads from Puerto Natales, and approach the Cordillera Paine from the South/Southwest. There are a number of famed, beautiful viewpoints along this route, and I was greedy to take them in, in person. However, those plans were abandoned when it required too much time in Puerto Natales to figure out the permits we needed to secure in order to complete the 75 mile circuit that had been the object of my affections for many months previous. It turned out that a final permit for one of the campsites we wanted could have been reserved ahead, had we known how to do that, and that a small number were dispensed each day at the entrance station to the Park near the Lago Sarmiento. We therefore made our way as quickly as we could to try for one of the theoretically remaining permits in person (ultimately failing). This meant we would try our luck along the secondary roads on our return trip from the Park to Puerto Natales.
As is obvious here, once the clouds and rain rolled in, the famed viewpoints were somewhat reduced in grandeur, and we didn’t bother hiking in the driving rain and howling wind just to end up staring into the clouds. This is the last moment of striking light before the grey, fast moving mists enveloped us, and we were all feeling quite blessed to be back in a warm vehicle, rather than slogging uphill to a wet and windy campsite. On the drive south, we outpaced the clouds, but the wind did not abate, and the muddy shores of lakes appeared as if they were transformed into desert flash floods, driven into a frothing maelstrom by the blunt force of the seething air mass. One of the more forlorn things we witnessed was a group of flamingos huddled in shallow, choppy water, heads all tucked and oriented identically, toes no doubt frantically gripping the muddy substrate below, waiting out the gale as they have likely done many times before. Though daft and brightly colored, they are a hardy breed in these parts.
In terms of the chronology of the trip, this is the last semi-decent image in the Patagonia Torres del Paine series. I’ll post a few more here and there to fill in the gaps, but for the most part, that’s all folks!
There's a weird dichotomy in the weather this time of year. At this point the snow has melted, but winter has gone into temporary remission rather than full retreat. We get brilliant days filled with sunshine and magnificent skies, but tempered by extreme cold and wind. Looks can be deceiving as was the case this day. By the looks off it you'd think this was shirtsleeve weather suitable for a walk in the park. On the other side of the lens is me bundled in winter survival mode, wrapped head to foot and still feeling the penetrating cold wind. There's an eeriness to days like this that I've felt often. Massive, multi-acre burial grounds with not a single living soul except me. People tend not to venture out in extreme weather, yet time and again that's precisely what motivates me. This can be a very depleting experience, moving from grave-to-grave, absorbing a bit of sadness with each one. Reading gravestone inscriptions, studying the mementos and tributes, and seeing faces of the dead, literally dozens of them, in small cameo portraits left by loved ones. Smiling faces of people then full of life, now forever consigned to this place. It's very humbling. I paused for a while taking in this coppery-bronze painted statue of the Madonna. I was transfixed by the utter clarity of the day, like looking at life through a high def filter. And the eerie gaze of the baby Jesus upon me. In this moment my preoccupation with the freezing cold was forgotten.
I liked the way the light played off the clouds and this dead scrub oak in Tehama County, Northern California. As the scene was already quite dramatic and somewhat ominous looking, I chose to process the image for a sort of "cinematic" look.
Prints of this image are available here...
...In waves, in waves, in waves.
So! My very last shot from my adventure to Wales.
You can see where we stood on the ramp just to the side of the bridge previously. For this shot, we found ourselves in a car park which looked like it was probably visited by people who enjoy dogging. We didn't stay there long- two strapping young men in the cold and dark? Targets!
From this distance, you couldn't see or hear any of the traffic. It was easy to imagine the roads were empty and eery in the strange light of the sky; the blue hour mixing with strong light pollution. Spooky.
Anyway, what a beautiful view to have to end my trip. Well... It kinda was. What followed was a few hours of dull motorway. I'll pretend I appeared at home by magic instead.
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A surreal and eery sight, these massive cypress trees filled with cormorants.
As I was paddling along the shoreline, I heard the sound of thousands of birds in the far distance. I decided to check it out and kept paddling into the direction of the sound.
As the sound got louder and louder, it suddenly got accompanied by the intense smell of guano. It wasn’t until I got quite close when I saw cormorants literally everywhere. Every single tree, every single branch was full of them.
I decided to approach them real slow as to not scare them away. As I got really close, I stopped paddling and just let the current and the wind take me.
Marsel | squiver.com
- - -
INTO THE CYPRESS SWAMPS
Landscape photography tour
Texas & Louisiana, USA
Tour brochure: ow.ly/pHE0100Kob0
31 Oct - 9 Nov 2017 -> FULL
13 - 22 Nov 2017 -> 2 spaces left
26 Nov - 5 Dec -> 1 space left
©2017 Marsel van Oosten, All Rights Reserved. This image is not available for use on websites, blogs or other media without the explicit written permission of the photographer.
NEMO Science Museum (from Latin: Nemo, lit. 'Nobody') is a science centre in Amsterdam, Netherlands. It is located in the Oosterdokseiland neighbourhood in the Amsterdam-Centrum borough, situated between the Oosterdokseiland and the Kattenburg. The museum has its origins in 1923, and is housed in a building designed by Renzo Piano since 1997. It contains five floors of hands-on science exhibitions and is the largest science center in the Netherlands. It attracts around 728,000 visitors annually, which makes it the seventh most visited museum in the Netherlands.
History
The museum has its origins in 1923, when the Museum van den Arbeid (English: Museum of Labor) was opened by the artist Herman Heijenbrock on the Rozengracht in Amsterdam. In 1954 the name was changed to the NINT or Nederlands Instituut voor Nijverheid en Techniek (English: Dutch Institute for Labor and Technology), and in 1997 it changed again to newMetropolis. The name Science Center Nemo was introduced in 2000. In 2016, the name was changed to NEMO Science Museum.
Exhibitions
Inside the lobby there is a small cafeteria and a gift shop which sells small scale copies of some of the attractions at Nemo like the giant domino set and the DNA experiments.
The main concepts on the first floor are DNA and chain reactions which include a room with giant dominoes with contraptions like a giant bell and a flying car. Also on the first floor is a show on the half-hour, which features a large chain reaction circuit.
On the second floor is a ball factory where small plastic balls are sent on a circuit where participants are to group them in weight, size, and color and then send them to a packing facility where the balls go into a small metal box. There are five stations at which the people stick magnetic barcodes on the boxes and send them off to start the circuit again. On the second level, there is also a small cafeteria and a movie and performance hall where various acts and movies about science are shown. The second floor also features a display on the water cycle a display on electricity and a display on metals and buildings.
The third floor has a giant science lab in which people can do science experiments such as testing vitamin C in certain substances and looking at DNA. There is also a small section on money and business.
On the fourth floor is a section about the human mind, it has such experiments as memory tests, mind problems, and sense testers. The fourth floor is quite dark which adds to the eeriness of the surroundings.
The fifth floor or upper deck has a cafeteria, a children's play area and a great view of the city surroundings.
(Wikipedia)
NEMO ist ein Science Center in Amsterdam in der Nähe des Hauptbahnhofes. Das 1997 erbaute und von Renzo Piano entworfene Gebäude steht auf den Fundamenten des IJtunnels. Es bildet den Eingang des Tunnels und wird – wohl beabsichtigt – oft mit einem Schiff verglichen. Das Dach ist ein beliebter Treff- und Aussichtspunkt. Picknicke sind ausdrücklich erlaubt. Wenn sich nur wenige Besucher im Museum aufhalten, ist das Dach auch für Nichtbesucher geöffnet.
Das Science Center öffnete an dieser Stelle 1997 unter dem Namen „New Metropolis“ und wurde 2000 nach finanziellen Problemen umbenannt. 300.000 Besucher sollen das NEMO pro Jahr besuchen.
Die Ausstellung enthält auf vier Ebenen Exponate aus allen Wissenschaftsbereichen. Im Vordergrund stehen dabei Experimente zum Anfassen sowie technische und biologische Aufklärung für Kinder.
(Wikipedia)
The Victorian era fascinates me, and in particular that culture's obsession with death. I'm blessed to live in an area where it's possible to visit the cemeteries, graves, and mausoleums of that period. And I'm always struck by how differently they viewed things in comparison to modern times. I spend considerable time searching for such things and have a tendency to revel when I find them. Certainly it's made for endless photo explorations and haunting images. However my interest does not begin and end in cemeteries. There is huge appeal to me in everything Victorian, not just the places where their dead are buried. Victorian architecture is by far the most stunning to me. And surviving examples are always eye-catchers, even now, several generations on. These houses exhibit an unmistakeable sense of presence and often stately grandeur. The best ones in my mind are those that remain relatively unchanged over the years, or with renovations that are sensitive to the original design. Owning one of these myself, I can attest it is often frustrating trying to maintain such a place; to try to make it livable my modern standards but at the same time preserve the outward appearance. I often sense myself as the caretaker rather than the homeowner. I have great respect for anyone who decides to take up residence in a century home. There are tradeoffs of course. And one is simply getting to experience living in a place where so much history has transpired.
The subject house, an 1880s-era Victorian appears right off of a movie set. What I love most about these houses is the sense of underlying darkness, as if you are looking at a haunted house. That characteristic seems built into the architecture, much the same as in Gothic designs. Beautiful, charming, but with an undercurrent off unsettling eeriness. This house portrays that wonderfully. The bare trees and iron fence really enhance the look and feel.
Early one morning in Madarao Kogen, a few weeks ago. Konica Pan 100, expired. Ricoh 35ZF. EI 100, pushed two stops in development. Two stop push was fine for most of this expired roll, in this case, I must have metered incorrectly. It was super foggy.