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A life at sea, he's seen it all.
Now he's blind.
But his lip curl says it all - he's not beaten yet.
Respect.
The British expedition to Gondogoro La and their porters stands dwarfed by K2, it's glacier the Godwin Austen Glacier, Broad Peak, Gasherbrum IV, the Baltoro Glacier and the West-Vigne Glacier.
Baltistan District
Northern Areas
Pakistan
Gondogoro La Trek
August 2006
#18 on Explore. It was something higher earlier but I forgot what it was
Another view of the same place can be found HERE
Yeehaw, raptors! This falcon is a recent settler at my local regional park. The resident crows, however, were just merciless this early morning. They started hanging in the same leafless tree; one got just one branch above the Peregrine even. I guess they don't know a Peregrine can take a crow (saw it, photographed it earlier this year). The raptor endured for awhile, but flew about 10 minutes later. Then the crows moved on to hassle a red-shouldered hawk - one chased it even. And, by the way, don't you just love its "pantalones" as my BF would say? Cool stuff.
I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars. ♫
• ZOOM FOR DETAILS •
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♡ S.P.O.N.S.O.R ♡
• Sabbath Event •
Event is NOW OPEN and will close on June 11! ○ TAXI ○
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♡ S.P.O.N.S.O.R ♡
• NO.MATCH •
Available at ○ HAIR FAIR 2024 ○
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♡ S.P.O.N.S.O.R ♡
• +ARANA+ •
Available at ○ Mainstore ○
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• ZOOM FOR DETAILS •
✗ Head - Lelutka - Zo
✗ Skin: MUDSKIN - Bonnie
✗ Body: eBody - Reborn
✗ Boobs: Reborn - Waifu
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Love is patient and kind....It does not demand its own way. Love never gives up never loses faith, is always hopeful and endures through every circumstance. 1 Cor. 13:4-7
I have a love/hate relationship with my hair. Yes, the colour is pretty fantastic, but it's coarse and unruly. I refer to it as the "Medusa snakes" for a very good reason.
By and large, I've stopped combing it. Every couple days, I'll wash it with my conditioner designed for "dry, rebellious hair that is coarse" (though I usually paraphrase it to read "that is also evil"), drag my fingers through enough to pull out the loose strands and sort the rest vaguely, and then let it be until I wash it again. This has been working a lot better than any previous solution that involved trying to rip a comb through it each day. It's been shredding rather a lot less than it used to.
I'd rather a lot of happy, easy tugs with conditioner than the agony I endured letting others comb my hair for me when I was little. That was more pain than I was really willing to take, at that age. Funny, the contrast between our adult workarounds and the crap we used to take as kids.
I have always had a love of Sport and the great outdoors and on retirement I have continued to pursue that in the form of my landscape photography and competitive golf.
My wife says, "the trouble with you is that you have two expensive and time consuming hobbies"!! I suppose she is correct, but you need to keep interests and activities.
Anyway, sometimes these two interests come together nicely. Here, I had just played in a match against the Isle of Man Seniors Team at my home Club at Lancaster Golf Club and the light suddenly came through after post game meal and presentation (we actually won the Trophy against them for the first time)! So I nipped back out and took a series of shots for the Golf Club to use on their website and for promotional needs (any excuse to use my new toys).
The light didn't last long before we returned to the monsoonal weather we have endured for much of July and early August!
Anhinga (Anhinga anhinga) - Miami-Dade County, Florida
A male anhinga endures a rainy day in the everglades.
©2024 Nature's Spectrum, For consideration only, no reproduction without prior permission.
As neuroses go, it's probably not among the most damaging that a poor tortured soul might have to endure. In fact, considering everything that ails humankind these days I probably shouldn't mention it at all. But here's the thing. I hate my name. Always have done since I was old enough to master all three syllables. And don't tell me it's a nice name. It doesn't matter whether you think it is or not, because as the person who has to live with it, it's on my birth certificate, my driving licence and my passports (both British and Irish) and I detest it with a passion. During the early years of my working life I'd give my name to somebody over the phone and then have to spell out every single letter. One builder whose accounts I was given to work on called me “Sebastian” instead. Which sounded quite ridiculous in a West Cornwall accent. He thought it was hilarious, and he was the customer so I had to grin politely and put up with it. Whenever I say my name it sounds as if I'm a very minor member of the aristocracy. An impoverished fourth son of the baron of a dried up salt marsh who stopped receiving invitations to an audience with the king in the early 1950’s. Nowadays, only people who've known me forever call me Dominic. Generally speaking that's my parents, although my sister often slips into it. She's also had three syllables dumped on her. Rebecca, but only Mum, who remains insistent on this nonsense, calls her that. Everyone else has always called her Becky. My brother is kinder and calls me Dom unless he's in a playful mood and wants to annoy me. As you’ll read later, he got away lightly.
I dropped the “inic” many years ago and anyone who has come into my orbit over the last twenty years simply knows me as Dom. My closest friends only know me as Dom, because that's what I told them my name was when I met them for the first time. “Dom” I can deal with, even though it's often misheard as John or Tom, or mistyped as Don. Once in Barcelona I told the waitress I was “Domingo.” It was the only way to avoid confusion. As for “Dominic,” hardly anyone could spell that correctly. There'd be a K on the end, or two many O's and not enough ‘I's. Or all of those things. One secretary where I worked in my twenties always called me Dominique. Spelt it that way on Christmas cards too. Even though I love France, I'm not French. In the same workplace, an IT consultant spent a few weeks with us and was introduced to me as Nic. It was only when he had to put his full name on a form that I realised we had the same first name. He obviously hated Dominic too, but had been rather more inventive than me at throwing the nomenclature pedants off the scent. Why hadn't I thought of Nic? That would have been much better. Although I suppose everyone would still have added a K on the end. Later on, a cleaner who was hovering on the brink of retirement became convinced my name was Duncan. “Alright Duncan?” she’d chirp squeakily as she came in to empty the bins at the end of each day. I’ve really no idea where she’d got Duncan from, and before long, it was too late to disabuse her. To her, I’d always be Duncan. My colleagues loved this. As for my surname, don't even go there. It's Haughton, not Houghton or Horton or any similar version of events. Hardly anyone gets that right first time. Almost everyone says it wrong too. Even people who've known me for years pronounce it wrongly. I've been on many adventures with Lee, and he still pronounces it Howton. But it's Horton. Spelt Haughton. With an A and only one O, and definitely no R's. Keeping up? Can you see why it drives me around the bend? Told you it was a pain to live with. I've been dealing with this for nearly sixty flipping years!
Three syllables for goodness sake. Nobody needs three syllables in a forename. It's one too many. When I was four and a half, my brother came along. I was not impressed at having to share my parents with anyone else, and to add insult to injury they called him David. Why couldn't I have been called David, like David was? I protested bitterly and begged our parents to call me David too, but they heartlessly ignored me. I was stuck with Dominic, no matter how much I detested those three syllables. And he can be abbreviated to Dave. Everyone hears and spells Dave correctly. Nobody says, “come again, was that Wade?” Or “pleased to meet you Gabe!” You couldn't possibly get it wrong.
“So why bring all of this up now?” is a question you might be asking. Well at the time of writing, and after a few days in Cork catching up with my family, I'm on the west coast of Ireland, on the Dingle Peninsula in Kerry to be exact. Kerry. That’s another name you can’t really get wrong. Staying in a cottage where the host greeted me as Dom. “A good place to write,” as my cousin Fiona pointed out. She's the only one of eight siblings with a triple syllable by the way. But really, Fiona is more like two and a bit as you can merge the vowels almost seamlessly. All eight of my Irish cousins, and my aunt and uncle, being among the people who've known me longest on this planet, call me Dominic, pretty much without exception. I've been Dominic for four days now. But the strange thing is, I don't mind it so much when they say it. Something about the easy stretching of the vowels and the gentle Cork lilt that makes me sound like the strange Cornish cousin that I am, rather than the landed gentry at the big house in Midleton where my Great Grandfather worked as head gardener over a hundred years ago. They all have that same twinkle about them that Grandad did too. But when you breathe in a landscape like this on a daily basis, it’s no wonder really. It’s a rare place this.
I'm here today and tomorrow, and then I'm back to Cork where I'll become Dominic again for a couple of days until I land back in Cornwall early next week. When I’m home, I’ll be Dom - so don’t get any ideas. Not unless you’re Irish that is. Especially if you’re from Cork. Then, just maybe, I might just let you get away with it without pulling a face that tells you what I really think about those three dreaded syllables.
This summer has marked the longest period of inactivity for me with regards photography, several big events in my life, and unexpected challenges this year have put a dampener on the creativity and the desire to get out with the camera. My melancholy just hasn't shifted.
I have been working on this image and there was something about it that I couldn't put my finger on, until tonight that is. and it was this!
This poor tree has endured. Its coped with Lightning, Fire, Drought, Broken branches and Bark loss and yet, despite all the challenges its found away to keep on going, and not to give up. I think that's something for me to learn right there.
Dusk Silhouette Shot of a Man doing Fishing as Hobby at dusk against Rough Tides near Cherai Beach,Cochin.Fishing as Hobby is common among People of Cochin as they stand in Rocks along the Sea shore and having their time of life.
UK, England,Suffolk, Sizewell Beach
First Explore for 2010 ... 1/3/10 #85
Okay, I'm back. Ready to put the events of 2009 behind me and start anew. I wish you all health, happiness and serenity in the coming year,
The Corktown Footbridge, also referred to as the Somerset Street bridge or simply the Somerset Bridge, is a footbridge in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada built across the Rideau Canal. The 70-metre bridge is located about 400m south of the Laurier Avenue Bridge. It was opened on September 21, 2006.
Like one from whom people hide their faces
he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.
Surely he took up our pain
and bore our suffering,
yet we considered him punished by God,
stricken by him, and afflicted.
But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
and by his wounds we are healed.
We all, like sheep, have gone astray,
each of us has turned to our own way;
and the LORD has laid on him
the iniquity of us all.
Isaiah 53:2-6
Song of Solomon 8:6,7
Set me as a seal upon your heart,
As a seal upon your arm;
For love is as strong as death,
Jealousy as cruel as the grave;
Its flames are flames of fire,
A most vehement flame.
Many waters cannot quench love,
Nor can the floods drown it.
If a man would give for love
All the wealth of his house,
It would be utterly despised.
♫ Song
Obey
Come won't you stay
Sincere
All ends in tears
Endure
Thoughts most impure
Concede
But both shall we bleed
Day 97 of 365.
For such a wonderful day of college classes, I don't know exactly how I ended up with this picture. Just had the image of this stuck in my head all day.
The trunk of this large tree has endured an amazing amount of graffiti carvings in spite of the fact that it is deep in a wooded area.
In this morning a mystic haze was in the air and some fine light strived over the hills around the town. This was an easy morning-coffee shot, right out of the window. It is fascinating how perception changes with time, weather and light. I never noticed this tree before!
February 2019 | Niefern
© Max Angelsburger Photography
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Commentary.
What can be said about Clovelly?
Unique, special, memorable, charming, fantastic.
No description quite suffices,
no image captures all its qualities and ambience.
The path from above winds through broadleaf woods,
clinging on to the cliffs.
Suddenly, rooftops and chimney stacks break the green swathe, like card-board cut-outs in a pop-up book.
Cottages appear, as in a fairy-story in this surreal cleft,
a mini-gorge, a chyne-like cranny.
A cobbled, twisted path wends its way down, in broad steps.
It passes a plethora of old, quaint, gabled, tumbledown cottages festooned with window-boxes, flower-pots and small, neat beds of cultivated, wrought-ironed gardens.
Guesthouse, small hotel accommodation, ice-cream and gift shops proliferate to appease the throngs of summer tourists that brave the steep walk.
Such photogenic qualities belies the hard struggle to survive
that fishermens’ families endured in former centuries.
As with St.Ives in Cornwall, Clovelly now enjoys a world-class
credential in its magical position in relation to the sea,
a place so wonderful, may it never be spoiled.
"Write me of hope and love, and hearts that endured."
(Emily Dickinson)
(Things I see as I look deeper: The red scattered about the image signifies hearts that have suffered and bled. The brighter, glowing blossoms signify the ones that have endured and that now shine for others as an encouragement to also endure. There is still darkness around the edges, but the light has not been extinguished. The light in the top corner is beckoning the blossoming hearts to hang onto their Hope)
....to waste anything as precious as autumn sunshine by staying in the house.
So I spend almost all the daylight hours in the open air.
- Nathaniel Hawthorne
Texture www.flickr.com/photos/lenabem-anna/6352767193/in/set-7215...
© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Use without permission is illegal.
Have a sunhiny Sunday !
Higger Tor • Peak District National Park • 16th January 2022
The best of the weather managed to escape me this week, so here’s a moody morning shot from Higger Tor.
Photo manipulation of a stone carving by James Tandi (Zimbabwe): www.flickr.com/photos/h_duncan/39318994504/in/dateposted-...