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Le gisement d’étain de la région d’Abbaretz a fait l’objet d’exploitations très anciennes, dès l’époque gallo-romaine. Mais c’est au début du 20ème siècle que d’importants travaux de recherche ont débuté par la société nantaise des Minerais de l’Ouest (SNMO). L’exploitation principale a été réalisée à ciel ouvert sur le site du Bois Vert à l’ouest du bourg d’Abbaretz à partir de 1952. La mine à ciel ouvert a atteint des profondeurs allant de 40 à 70 m. Lors de l’exploitation, les matériaux extraits à la pelle mécanique étaient transportés par bandes transporteuses soit au nord de la route départementale directement lorsqu’il s’agit de roche de découverte ou de minerai trop pauvre en étai, soit dans l’usine de traitement du minerai. Dans l’usine, le minerai était concassé et broyé pour récupérer l’étain. Une fois ce dernier récupéré, les résidus de traitement étaient envoyés dans des grandes aires de décantation au nord de la route départementale. Cette activité a généré les terrils du Bois Vert visibles aujourd’hui : le terril conique composé de stériles d’exploitation (matériaux plus ou moins grossiers, moins chargés en métaux) et les terrils tabulaires en forme de plateaux composés de résidus de traitement (matériaux plus fins de type sable, plus chargés en métaux). L’étude menée récemment par le BRGM conclut à une concentration relativement importante en métaux dans les sols (arsenic notamment) présente dans les résidus des anciennes activités de traitement du minerai. Cette zone ayant donné lieu à une exploitation minière dans le passé contient naturellement des teneurs en métaux plus élevées que la moyenne de terres initialement chargées en métaux. Ce rapport indique qu’en dehors d’une promenade le long du chemin de randonnée et sur la montée au belvédère du terril conique, les autres usages ne sont pas compatibles avec le site.
The tin deposit in the Abbaretz region has been exploited for a very long time, since the Gallo-Roman period. But it was at the beginning of the 20th century that important research work began by the Nantes company of West Minerals (SNMO). The main mining was carried out in the open pit at the Bois Vert site to the west of the village of Abbaretz from 1952. The open pit mine reached depths ranging from 40 to 70 m. During operation, the materials extracted with a mechanical shovel were transported by conveyor belts either to the north of the departmental road directly in the case of discovery rock or ore too poor in prop, or to the plant of ore processing. At the plant, the ore was crushed and ground to recover the tin. Once the latter was recovered, the treatment residues were sent to large settling areas north of the departmental road. This activity generated the Bois Vert slag heaps visible today: the conical slag heap made up of waste rock (more or less coarse materials, less loaded with metals) and the tabular slag heaps in the form of trays made up of treatment residues ( finer sand type, more loaded with metals). The recent study carried out by BRGM concludes that there is a relatively high concentration of metals in the soils (arsenic in particular) present in the residues of former ore processing activities. This area, which has been used for mining in the past, naturally contains higher metal contents than the average for soil initially loaded with metals. This report indicates that apart from a walk along the hiking trail and on the climb to the conical slag heap lookout, other uses are not compatible with the site.
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Just returned from a week on the Isle of Skye with Terry (Bingleyman). We had an amazing week, the weather was perfect for photography, this is the first of many captures from the week.
I'll try my best to catch up with all my contacts in the coming weeks.
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Long exposure of one of the most visited places in the Albufera of Valencia.
I waited for everyone to leave to take a picture of lonely old pier.
I have been many times on this site, but I'm always amazed lights, shadows, reflections and shades of color that make it unique every sunset.
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apologies for not much commenting ect lately as some of you may know my mum was seriously Ill In Hospital for a while and I nearly lost her she was disharged from hospital a few weeks ago and I have been busy looking after her at my home and preparing her for her return to her own home she is now back at home and doing well but still needs alot of care as as I am the only person she has got to help its down to me the past 8 weeks or so have been a total nightmare and I have been running on auto pilot and finally everything has caught up with me feel totally exhausted and run down at one point I was spending 11 hours per day at the hospital Just so glad my mum is still here and I thank god every day for that and for getting me through the toughest 2 months of my life xx
Dès le 16ème siècle dans la vallée d'Itria dans les Pouilles les seigneurs locaux ont contraint les paysans appelés à défricher la région à construire leurs habitations avec pierres et lauzes très abondantes. Ces étonnantes demeures, les trulli, ont essaimé dans toute la région. A Alberobello elles occupent toute une colline et participent avec leur curiosité architecturale à la renommée de cette petite ville. De nombreux trulli ont été restaurés et servent de résidence pour les habitants, d'autres sont exploités à des fins commerciales sous forme d'hébergement pour touristes ou transformés en boutiques de souvenirs, d'autres encore, un bon tiers sont laissés à l'abandon.<
© cuma 2013. © Copyright – Marcelo Moreno©. Photos are copyrighted. All rights reserved. Pictures can not be used without explicit permission by the creator.
© cuma 2013. © Copyright – Marcelo Moreno©. Estas fotos tienen derechos de autor. Todos los derechos reservados. Las imágenes no pueden ser utilizadas sin autorización expresa del autor.
© Copyright – Marcelo Moreno©.
The reproduction, publication, modification, transmission or exploitation of any work contained herein for any use outside FlickR, personal or commercial, without my prior written permission is strictly prohibited. All rights reserved."
Im Gegensatz zu Deutschland und Österreich ist in der Schweiz das Übernachten in der Wildnis noch an vielen Orten erlaubt. Zumindest so wie ich es mache: alleine, in einem Ultraleicht-Biwakzelt, von Sonnenunter- bis Sonnenaufgang, möglichst ohne Spuren zu hinterlassen. Vielfach wird diese Großzügigkeit ausgenutzt von großen Gruppen, an sensiblen Orten, in großen Camping-Zelten mit Lagerfeuer, Lärm und Müll. Diese Leute meinen Naturliebhaber zu sein, aber es ist eher gegenteilig. Das macht mich sauer, denn diese Menschen könnten früher oder später dafür verantwortlich sein, dass allen Menschen dieses wunderbare Erlebnis genommen wird.
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Unlike Germany and Austria, spending the night in the wilderness is still permitted in many places in Switzerland. Just like I do: alone, in an ultralight bivouac tent, from sunset to sunrise, leaving as little trace as possible. This generosity is often exploited by large groups, in sensitive locations, in large camping tents with campfires, noise, and trash. These people claim to be nature lovers, but it's actually quite the opposite. This makes me angry, because sooner or later, these people could be responsible for depriving everyone of this wonderful experience.
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🇫🇷 L'Argentiera est le nom d'un hameau situé sur le littoral de la commune de Sassari au nord-ouest de la Sardaigne
.La mine était exploitée par les Romains et les Phéniciens.
L'exploitation est rouverte au XIXe siècle par une société minière belge
.Le site connaît une période florissante vers 1940 puis décline après la Seconde Guerre mondiale.
La mine est fermée en 1963.
On peut y voir les vestiges de la laverie avec ses charpentes de bois et les fours destinés à la fonte des minerais formant un des plus intéressants exemples d'archéologie industrielle en Sardaigne. La restauration a commencé .
🇬🇧 L'Argentiera is the name of a hamlet on the coast of the municipality of Sassari in north-west Sardinia.
The mine was exploited by the Romans and Phoenicians.
It was reopened in the 19th century by a Belgian mining company.
The site enjoyed a flourishing period around 1940, before declining after the Second World War.
The mine closed in 1963.
The remains of the washing plant with its wooden frameworks and the furnaces used to smelt the ore can still be seen, making it one of the most interesting examples of industrial archaeology in Sardinia. Restoration work has begun.
🇮🇹 L'Argentiera è il nome di una frazione della costa del comune di Sassari, nella Sardegna nord-occidentale.
La miniera fu sfruttata dai Romani e dai Fenici.
Fu riaperta nel XIX secolo da una società mineraria belga.
Il sito conobbe un periodo di fioritura intorno al 1940, per poi declinare dopo la Seconda Guerra Mondiale.
La miniera chiuse nel 1963.
Sono ancora visibili i resti dell'impianto di lavaggio con le sue strutture in legno e i forni utilizzati per la fusione del minerale, che ne fanno uno degli esempi più interessanti di archeologia industriale in Sardegna. Sono iniziati i lavori di restauro.
🇩🇪 L'Argentiera ist der Name eines Weilers an der Küste der Gemeinde Sassari im Nordwesten Sardiniens.
Die Mine wurde von den Römern und Phöniziern betrieben.
Jahrhundert von einer belgischen Bergwerksgesellschaft wiedereröffnet.
.Die Anlage erlebte um 1940 eine Blütezeit und ging nach dem Zweiten Weltkrieg zurück.
Die Mine wurde 1963 geschlossen.
Die Überreste der Wäscherei mit ihren Holzbalken und den Öfen zum Schmelzen der Erze, die eines der interessantesten Beispiele für Industriearchäologie auf Sardinien darstellen, sind noch zu sehen. Die Restaurierung hat begonnen.
🇪🇸 L'Argentiera es el nombre de una aldea situada en la costa del municipio de Sassari, en el noroeste de Cerdeña.
La mina fue explotada por romanos y fenicios.
Fue reabierta en el siglo XIX por una compañía minera belga.
El yacimiento conoció un periodo de florecimiento hacia 1940, antes de decaer tras la Segunda Guerra Mundial.
La mina cerró en 1963.
Los restos de la planta de lavado, con sus armazones de madera, y los hornos utilizados para fundir el mineral aún pueden verse, lo que la convierte en uno de los ejemplos más interesantes de arqueología industrial de Cerdeña. Se han iniciado trabajos de restauración.
I’ve exploited the low-light capabilities of the Sony A7s, the naturally diffuse light of sunset, and Topaz Denoise post-processing, to do flashless macro. This is a Large Brown Mantis, Archimantis latistyla, about 8cm long. Centennial Park, Sydney. Sony A7s
Lens: Sony FE 2.8/90mm Macro G OSS, Speed: 1/200, Aperture: f16, ISO: 3200.
Paris , " La Seine illuminée "
Projet " Au fil des saisons - La couleur de la lumière " :
Défi E , Vue saisie depuis l' extérieur associant l' intérieur et l' extérieur ...
Défi G , Vue associant au moins 2 sources lumineuses électriques de couleur différente ...
Défi J , " Photo lumineuse " exploitant les jeux de reflets ...
The Look White - Level 7
PhotoGem L6 HOF - Level 6
DSLR Autofocus Silver - Level 7
Frame It ! L05 - Level 5
PhotoZone L7 - Level 7
C’est l’arrivée de Mathieu Van Roggen, venu de Hollande, qui a dynamisé vers 1880 les CARRIÈRES DE SPRIMONT. Il les a rendues pleinement performantes par la rationalisation de l’exploitation et la modernisation de l’outil. La grande centrale électrique de 1904, devenue “Musée de la pierre”, en est le remarquable témoin. Par la suite, le groupe Merbes-Sprimont gère les propriétés jusqu’à la reprise en 1984 par la famille Brancaleoni.
Plusieurs sites sont actuellement en exploitation. La réputation de qualité de ces gisements est depuis longtemps établie et
les références de prestige en sont fort nombreuses, depuis la Grand’ Poste de Liège et le pont de Fragnée vers 1900, jusqu’au
nouveau pont haubané du Val-Benoît en 2000.
Importante capacité de production et souplesse de gestion sont les atouts premiers de l’entreprise sprimontoise.
Cette carrière de petit granit consiste en une excavation allongée, partiellement occupée par la 'décharge de classe III du Fond de Correux'. L'activité extractive a encore lieu dans la partie médiane et un grand atelier de taille est installé vers la route. Le secteur occidental, actuellement désaffecté, et les abords supérieurs de la fosse présentent toutefois un intérêt biologique: reproduction du crapaud accoucheur et du lézard des murailles; flanc nord incliné colonisé par une végétation des substrats calcaires (e.a. Catapodium rigidum, Crepis foetida, Teucrium botrys); présence de la fougère Gymnocarpium robertianum.
It was the arrival of Mathieu Van Roggen, from Holland, who revitalised the CARRIÈRES DE SPRIMONT around 1880. He made them fully efficient by rationalising the operation and modernising the tool. The large power station of 1904, which became the “Stone Museum”, is a remarkable example of this. Subsequently, the Merbes-Sprimont group managed the properties until the Brancaleoni family took them over in 1984.
Several sites are currently in operation. The reputation for quality of these deposits has long been established and
their prestigious references are numerous, from the Grand’ Poste in Liège and the Fragnée bridge around 1900, to the
new cable-stayed bridge at Val-Benoît in 2000.
Significant production capacity and management flexibility are the primary assets of the Sprimont company.
This small granite quarry consists of an elongated excavation, partially occupied by the 'class III dump of Fond de Correux'. Extractive activity still takes place in the middle part and a large cutting workshop is installed towards the road. The western sector, currently disused, and the upper edges of the pit are nevertheless of biological interest: reproduction of the midwife toad and the wall lizard; inclined northern flank colonized by vegetation of calcareous substrates (e.g. Catapodium rigidum, Crepis foetida, Teucrium botrys); presence of the fern Gymnocarpium robertianum.
"In humide heat"
Temples d'Angkor (Siem Reap - Cambodge)
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Fremont Canyon lies south of Casper in Central Wyoming. It was carved by the North Platte River through ancient Pre-Cambrian granitic rocks.
In 1842, Lieutenant John Charles Fremont explored the canyon during his first expedition to the American West. He was tasked with mapping the fur-trade route along the Platte, North Platte, and Sweetwater Rivers. With the guidance of Kit Carson, who was not yet famous at the time, Fremont's group crossed South Pass and ventured into the Oregon Territory, west of the Wind River Mountains, which lay beyond the then-US borders.
On their return journey, Fremont and a small group attempted to navigate Fremont Canyon in an inflatable boat while Carson led the rest of the party overland. On August 24, 1842, the boat struck a rock, capsized, and deflated, resulting in the loss of most of their supplies and equipment. Despite the setback, the entire group survived and reunited with Carson downstream. They all made it safely to Fort Laramie by August 31, 1842. Fremont would go on to lead more expeditions and eventually rise to the rank of general. Kit Carson's exploits would later be popularized in the dime novels of the era.
Today, this section of Fremont Canyon lies between the Pathfinder Dam—named after Fremont, known as the "Pathfinder of the West"—and the Alcova Reservoir, which submerges part of the canyon. The canyon walls here are over 200 feet high, and they reach up to 500 feet further downstream toward Alcova. The Pathfinder Dam was constructed between 1905 and 1909, while the Alcova Dam was completed in 1936. Between these two reservoirs, the North Platte River still flows through the canyon but its flowrate is controlled by the Pathfinder Dam..
Le Ragondin est un mammifère semi-aquatique.
Ce gros rongeur, originaire d'Amérique du Sud, s'est naturalisé en Asie, en Afrique orientale, en Amérique du Nord, en Europe au XIXe siècle pour l'exploitation de sa fourrure bon marché.
Tous les individus présents dans ces régions proviennent à l'origine d'évasions ou de lâchers volontaires.
Photos et vidéo prisent dans la réserve des marais de Bruges près de Bordeaux
Nutria is a semi-aquatic mammal.
This large rodent, native to South America, naturalized in Asia, East Africa, North America, Europe in the 19th century for the exploitation of its cheap fur.
All the individuals present in these regions come at the origin of voluntary escapes or releases.
Photos and video taken in the Bruges swamp reserve near Bordeaux
The USS Inflict, USS Exploit & USS Fidelity are underway. This was taken from the USS Impervious. A Canon TX camera with 35mm film was used to take this. #USSInflict(MSO-456)
#USSFidelity(MSO-443) #USSExploit(MSO-440) #U.S.Navy
Τα έτη πολλά και Παναγιοσκέπαστα!
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Παναγία Πελεκητή: Η «βασίλισσα» των Αγράφων
Είναι ένα από τα μοναστήρια που ξεχωρίζουν. Το τοπίο, η αρχιτεκτονική του, η ιστορία του καθιστούν την Ιερά Μονή της Παναγίας Πελεκητής προσκυνηματικό κέντρο. Βρίσκεται κτισμένη πάνω από την τεχνητή λίμνη Πλαστήρα στην Καρδίτσα και υπάγεται διοικητικά στη Μητρόπολη Φαναριοφερσάλων. Σύμφωνα με τα τελευταία ιστορικά στοιχεία, κτίστηκε πριν από περίπου πέντε αιώνες σε μια απόκρημνη, βραχώδη πλαγιά των Αγράφων, σε υψόμετρο 1.400 μέτρων, βορειοδυτικά του χωριού Καρίτσα.
Η ιστορία της Ιεράς Μονής Παναγίας Πελεκητής έχει συνδεθεί με την πορεία της περιοχής, η οποία συμμετείχε σε όλους τους αγώνες του Έθνους. Κατά την επανάσταση του 1821 η Καρίτσα καταστράφηκε από τους Τούρκους, ενώ το 1943 από τους Γερμανούς. Οι μοναχοί της μονής ήταν εκ των πρωταγωνιστών κατά την απελευθέρωση της Καρίτσας από τους Τούρκους, δημιουργώντας μια διαφορετική σχέση με τους κατοίκους.
Από την ίδρυσή της η μονή δέσποζε στα εκκλησιαστικά πράγματα της περιοχής αφού είχε αναγνωριστεί ως σταυροπηγιακή το 1606 από τον Οικουμενικό Πατριάρχη Ραφαήλ Β΄.
Πελεκητή ονομάστηκε καθώς τα κελιά της δημιουργήθηκαν μέσα στους βράχους σε τέσσερα επίπεδα, όπου οι μοναχοί ζούσαν και λειτουργούσαν το μοναστήρι, ενώ υπήρχε ακόμη και κρυφό σχολειό.
Ο Πορφύριος
Όπως αναφέρει ο Φώτης Κερασιώτης, που έχει ασχοληθεί με την ιστορία της μονής, η ίδρυσή της άρχισε πιθανότατα στα τέλη του 15ου αιώνα από τον Πνευματικό Πορφύριο και ολοκληρώθηκε το 1529 στη σημερινή της μορφή από τον νέο Οσιομάρτυρα Δαμιανό, ο οποίος ιστορείται ως «κτήτωρ» σε δύο τοιχογραφίες της. Το μοναστήρι αγιογραφήθηκε στα μέσα του 17ου αιώνα και έχει δύο ναούς, τον Ναό της Αναλήψεως του Χριστού και τον Ναό της Παναγιάς Φανερωμένης (το Καθολικό).
Το Καθολικό είναι ο κεντρικός και αρχαιότερος ναός, αφιερωμένος στην Ανάληψη του Κυρίου. Είναι μονόκλιτη βασιλική με νάρθηκα, στεγασμένη με κυλινδρική καμάρα, με ενισχυτικό τόξο στο μέσο. Σύμφωνα με σχετική επιγραφή που υπάρχει εντός του ναού, αγιογραφήθηκε το 1654 από τους αγιογράφους Ιωάννη, Νικόλαο Ιερέα και Ιάκωβο Ιερομόναχο.
Ο δεύτερος ναός είναι αφιερωμένος στην Παναγία Φανερωμένη. Είναι αθωνικού ρυθμού, με τρούλο και πλευρικούς χορούς, χωρίς εσωτερικούς κίονες. Οι τοιχογραφίες, όπως προκύπτει από σχετική επιγραφή που υπάρχει επάνω από τη θύρα εισόδου, ιστορήθηκαν το 1666. Ανιστορήθηκαν το 1674 από τον αγιογράφο Ιάκωβο και τον γιο του Δημήτριο.
Γνωστή είναι η μικρή αλλά θαυματουργή εικόνα της Παναγίας Πελεκητής, στην οποία έχει ζωγραφιστεί η Παναγία με τον Χριστό στην αγκαλιά της. Η εικόνα δυστυχώς εκλάπη και αναζητείται για να επιστραφεί στη φυσική της θέση, το μοναστήρι. Ο Ευρυτάνας ιστορικός Πάνος Βασιλείου το 1929 έγραψε τα εξής: «Εκτός της αρίστης Βυζαντινής τέχνης σε τοιχογραφίες, υπάρχει εδώ μια εικόνα (ελαιογραφία 0,04Χ0,03) της Παναγίας με τον Χριστό στην αγκαλιά της, έργο Ραφαηλικής τέχνης. Δεν εξηγείται πώς η μικροσκοπική αυτή εικονίτσα, που θεωρείται και σαν παλαιότερη, αλλά θαυματουργός, βρέθηκε εδώ πάνω. Φέρει χρονολογία 1654.
Η τεχνοτροπία της θυμίζει τον Χριστό του Πρωτάτου του Αγίου Όρους, το γνωστό έργο του Πανσέληνου. Μάλιστα ήταν η εικονίτσα τούτη στολισμένη με 20 πολύτιμες πέτρες από τις οποίες οι 16 αφαιρέθηκαν από… αγνώστους, χωρίς φυσικά τούτου να σημειωθεί σε κανένα, ως τα σήμερα, αστυνομικό δελτίο. Μένουν ακόμα, ευτυχώς, 4 ερυθρόχρωμες πετρούλες στο επαργυρωμένο περίβλημά της που έχει μέγεθος 0,21Χ0,23 μ. και που φέρει επάνω του σκαλισμένα αγγελούδια. Μια απέραντη καλοσύνη ζωγραφίζεται στο χαμογελαστό πρόσωπο της Παναγίας, της οποίας το παιδάκι παρουσιάζει κάτι το αληθινά Θείο και αξιοθαύμαστο για τη χαρούμενη εκφραστικότητά του. Η θαυμάσια αυτή εικόνα της Παναγίας της Πελεκητής θυμίζει Αναγέννηση».
Το μοναστήρι λόγω της περίτεχνης κατασκευής του και της ένδοξης ιστορίας του έχει ανακηρυχθεί «Ιστορικό Διατηρητέο Μνημείο». Δυστυχώς, όμως, από τον πλούτο των εκκλησιαστικών κειμηλίων και της σπάνιας βιβλιοθήκης του ελάχιστα, σήμερα, διασώζονται.
Το μοναστήρι πανηγυρίζει στις 15 Αυγούστου, της Κοιμήσεως της Θεοτόκου. Τα τελευταία χρόνια, ύστερα από σημαντικές πρωτοβουλίες των τοπικών φορέων και άλλων παραγόντων, εξευρέθηκαν τα απαραίτητα χρηματικά ποσά και το μοναστήρι έχει ανακαινισθεί και αξιοποιηθεί, συγκεντρώνοντας πλήθος προσκυνητών από ολόκληρη την ελληνική επικράτεια.
Όταν οι μοναχοί μετακίνησαν τα σύνορα το 1831
Εντύπωση προκαλεί και το εξής περιστατικό: Μετά τη δημιουργία του ελληνικού Κράτους, το 1831, η Καρύτσα (είναι το χωριό κάτω από το μοναστήρι) και ο Μπελεκομύτης βρέθηκαν εκτός ελληνικών συνόρων γιατί καθορίστηκαν επί του Καρυτσιώτη ποταμού, ενώ αυτά τα δύο χωριά βρίσκονται μετά τον ποταμό. Τότε οι μοναχοί μαζί με τους κατοίκους των δύο χωριών μετακίνησαν αυθαίρετα τα σύνορα και τα τοποθέτησαν μετά το μοναστήρι, στο οροπέδιο του Καραμανώλη.
Panagia Pelekiti(rusticated): The "Queen" of Agrafa
It is one of the monasteries that stand out. The landscape, architecture, history make the Holy Monastery of Panayia Pelekiti a pilgrimage center. It is built above the artificial lake Plastira in Karditsa and is administratively subordinated to the Cathedral of Fanariers. According to the latest historical data, it was built about five centuries ago on a steep rocky slope of Agrafa, at an altitude of 1,400 meters, northwest of Karitsa village.
The history of the Holy Monastery of Panagia Pelekiti has been linked to the course of the region, which participated in all the struggles of the Nation. During the revolution of 1821 Karitsa was destroyed by the Turks, while in 1943 by the Germans. The monks of the monastery were among the protagonists in the liberation of Karitsa from the Turks, creating a different relationship with the inhabitants.
Since its founding, the monastery has dominated the ecclesiastical things of the region since it was recognized as a cruciform in 1606 by the Ecumenical Patriarch Raffael II.
Pelekiti was named as its cells were created in the rocks on four levels, where the monks lived and functioned the monastery, while there was even a hidden school.
Porphyrios
According to Fotis Kerassiotis, who has dealt with the history of the monastery, it was probably founded at the end of the 15th century by the Spiritual Porphyry and was completed in 1529 in its present form by the new Omar Martyr Damianos, who is described as a "builder" In two frescoes. The monastery was hagiographed in the middle of the 17th century and has two temples, the Church of the Ascension of Christ and the Church of Panagia Faneromeni (the Catholic).
The Katholikon is the central and most ancient temple, devoted to Ascension of the Lord. It is a one-aisled basilica with a narthex, sheltered by a cylindrical arch, with a reinforcement bow in the middle. According to a relevant inscription inside the temple, it was painted in 1654 by hagiographers Ioannis, Nicholas Priest and Iacob Ieromonas.
The second temple is dedicated to Panagia Faneromeni. It is of the Athonian style, with dome and side dances, without internal columns. The frescoes, as indicated by a relevant inscription above the entrance door, were discovered in 1666. They were painted in 1674 by the icon-painter Iakovos and his son Dimitrios.
Known is the small but miraculous icon of Panagia Pelekiti, in which the Virgin Mary is painted with Christ in her arms. The picture is unfortunately stolen and sought to be returned to its natural place, the monastery. Evrytanas historian Panos Vassiliou wrote in 1929: "In addition to the excellent Byzantine art in frescoes, there is an icon (oil painting 0,04x0,03) of the Virgin Mary with Christ in her arms, a work of Raphael art. It is not explained how this tiny icon, which is considered as an old but miraculous icon, was found here. It dates back to 1654.
The style reminiscent of the Christ of the Protaton of Mount Athos, the well-known work of the Full Moon. In fact, this icon was embellished with 20 precious stones, of which 16 were removed from ... strangers, of course not to mention to anyone, as today, a police record. There are still, fortunately, 4 red-colored petals in its silver-plated casing, which is 0.21 x 0.23 m in size and carved on it with carved angels. An immense kindness is painted on the smiling face of Our Lady, whose child presents something truly divine and admirable for his joyful expressiveness. This magnificent icon of Virgin Mary Pelekite reminds Renaissance. "
The monastery, due to its elaborate construction and its glorious history, has been declared "Historic Preserved Monument". Unfortunately, however, the wealth of ecclesiastical heirlooms and its rare library are scarcely preserved today.
The monastery celebrates on August 15, the Assumption of the Virgin Mary. In recent years, after significant initiatives by local actors and other actors, the necessary money has been found and the monastery has been renovated and exploited, gathering crowds of pilgrims from all over Greece.
When the monks moved the border in 1831
The following incident is also impressed: After the Greek State was founded in 1831, Karytsa (the village under the monastery) and Belekomytis were found outside the Greek border because they were established on the river Karytsiotis, and these two villages are afterwards River. Then the monks, along with the inhabitants of the two villages, arbitrarily moved the borders and placed them after the monastery, on the plateau of Karamanolis.
"Covered in gold"
Temples d'Angkor (Siem Reap - Cambodge)
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Meeting aérien "Air Legend" 2019 (Melun-Villaroche)
Patrouille de France 2019 - Dassault Alpha Jet
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Lac de Melo - Vallée de la Restonica (Haute-Corse)
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Les cieux gouttent au sel de la terre
et les couleurs se mélangent dans les airs
Miroir incandescent troublé de pluie
l’océan noirci ses contours évanescents
Mais les vagues impatientes, électriques
jaillissent leurs bras d'azur tremblant
Vers la nuit comme une large fronde
Le ciel s’étonne quand l’orage gronde
Je pensait juste voir des éclairs au dessus du cap de la chèvre ce soir là mais j'ai eu droit au un petit sunset bien sympa également...
Là pluie m'a donné des conditions de prise de vue assez sale, du coup aucun éclair n'est exploitable sur cette sortie, mais j'ai gardé celle-ci cependant qui me parle beaucoup.
Copyright © Heavenxxx89 2012 -2014 You may not, except with my express written permission, copy, reproduce, download,
distribute or exploit In any way Thank you
view my photostream here portfotolio.net/heavenxxx23
or here flickeflu.com/photos/heavenxxx23
0r here picssr.com/photos/heavenxxx23/?ref=user
To those of you who have sent me messages via flickr mail and wondering why I havent responded Im not ignoring you my flickr mail isnt working whislt I can read my messages for some reason I cant reply its driving me crazy so very sorry for not being able to reply and thank you to those of you especially who sent me messages regarding my daughter I really appreciate your kind words xx
The Hoh Rainforest is located on the Olympic Peninsula in western Washington state, USA. It is one of the largest temperate rainforests in the U.S.[1] Within Olympic National Park, the forest is protected from commercial exploitation. This includes 24 miles (39 km) of low elevation forest 394 to 2,493 feet (120 to 760 m) along the Hoh River. The Hoh River valley was formed thousands of years ago by glaciers. Between the park boundary and the Pacific Ocean, 48 km (30 mi) of river, much of the forest has been logged within the last century, although many pockets of forest remain.
Visited Roseberry Topping Today, I initially went for the bluebell's but it's a little early yet. Came back with a field of gold instead.
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Cut off from the sea by the suspicious port authorities in Shanghai it seemed that the only way I was going to get out of China was overland. This was my ticket.
In Shanghai I had inquired of every traveler I met about the path ahead of me. I had heard tales of this magnificent and exotic railway adventure before... they called it the greatest railway journey on earth. The longest stretch of steel rail ever layed.
An Australian traveller named Mark told me that he had heard that there was a guy in Beijing who could get me a ticket.
I asked Mark how I could find this guy in Beijing. He said just go there and ask for 'The Crocodile.' Just go to a city of some ten million souls and ask for 'The Crocodile'? It sounded almost insane to me.
Ditching Mark after he made moves on my Chinese girlfriend and ditching my Chinese girlfriend after she got all worked up when a soldier who was following me took a picture of us together on the riverfront... I understood her fear in that time of Tienenmen Square and I knew it was time once again to get moving. It was time to move north to Beijing... the city they once called Peking.
Tsu Tsu Mei was a nice girl. She had told me to call her Eleanor... because that was what she called her 'American name.' I couldn't do it because she just didn't look like an Eleanor to me... I always called her Tsu Tsu Mei. And I think that she really liked that I did... it would have been easier to call her Eleanor I'm sure... but each time I called her 'Tsu Tsu Mei' she gave me this look... it started with a big warm vulnerable smile that made it seem to me that she was melting inside with warm thoughts and shaking knees.
That look always made me want to scoop her up in my arms and give her the same feelings right back. Whenever I said her name and got that look... it just kind of summed everything up right there in that moment. I really liked that. Sometimes I wished that it had gone farther but the way it ended is why I have the memories I do... and I hope she does too... we never hurt each other... never not once... it was the hard and cold government of an opressive authoritarian regime that broke both of our hearts there in Shanghai. It wasn't either of us... it wasn't our fault.
I was with Mark the Australian when I met Tsu Tsu Mei... we were tooling around Shanghai and we had just gotten on the bus after a tour of the Shanghai Waterpipe Factory Number Seven where I had just purchased a fine example of a brass opium waterpipe. We had seen the place while riding the bus and jumped off... the factory was really happy to have foreigners tour the place. I couldn't believe that there were at least six other water bong factories in Shanghai. Somehow we had found the seventh.
As foreigners we were pretty much used to talking in english right in front of people knowing full well that they couldn't follow our conversation... especially the slang riddled prose we frequently used. When Tsu Tsu Mei got on the bus and stood next to me I turned to Mark and said "man she is the most beautiful Chinese woman I have ever seen."
Before Mark could agree... Tsu Tsu Mei let me know that she appreciated the compliment... she smiled and said "thank you" in perfect english.
Shocked that my subterfuge was exposed at first I was a little embarassed... until Mark took that half of a second to start in on her. No way I thought... I was the one who paid the compliment... I was going to be putting the moves on Tsu Tsu Mei. I'm not sure Australian guys understand the concept of a good 'wing man' but Mark sure had some learnin' to do. He needed to watch the movie 'Top Gun' and take some notes.
Tsu Tsu Mei and I arranged to meet later that night in downtown Shanghai and proceeded to become great friends. She even took me to meet her parents... Norman Tsu... the first deaf technical drafting instructor in all of China and his 'deaf wife Janie.'
Tsu Tsu Mei's father Norman was sent to the United States to study technical drafting in the fifties. He went to Gaudellet University and he confided in me that he really liked it... that he didn't want to come back to China... he stopped writing home and corresponding with the government... he wanted to drift away... but they corralled his mother who was a widow by this time... and they made her write Norman a letter that made it really clear that it was in her best interests that Norman return to China. That's how China got its first deaf technical drafting instructor. Or how they got him back.
Norman always referred to his wife as 'My deaf wife.' Both of them were deaf and we passed notes to each other over a marvellous dinner... while Tsu tsu Mei just kept smiling at me and at her parents... unbelievable food Normans deaf wife cooked. It was a feast... and not the Chinese food I was used to... this was exotic and unknown to me. The Tsu's really went out and they've been in my thoughts many times since then.
The Tsu family was really good to me and things were moving right along with Tsu Tsu Mei too until that soldier decided that he'd turn our little hand holding session on the Shanghai riverfrint into a Kodak moment. I had seen that guy following me before... he was the tallest Chinaman I'd ever seen... a full head above the rest of the general population. I found great amusement in shagging him... going into a store and going out the back door. It was really like a game. Still... he always found me... he was on me for days there in Shanghai. And after he took that picture I realized that my company with Tsu Tsu Mei wasn't looked upon favorably by the authorities. She was terrified of the repurcussions. I knew that was it... I wasn't going to get her or her family inot any trouble. I was going to get out of Shanghai.
I purchased a train ticket on a sleeper train for the seventeen hour ride from Shanghai to Beijing. How was it that I could go to a city the size of Beijing almost a thousand miles to the north and find this man called 'The Crocodile' simply by asking? It seemed completely insane... but such was the world I found myself in this year... for me, 1990 was the year of living insanely.
After seventeen hours of watching China slide by through the window accompanied by the soundtrack of nonstop kung fu videos on the train's television sets, I stepped off the carriage in Beijing, China's capital city. Which was a godsend because I could not have taken one more of those videos. The Chinese truly love them... they must be a part of their national identity... the way that the Japanese love Godzilla. Godzilla was a mechanism that helped the Japanese to cope with their loss of World War Two and the painful shock of getting Nuked twice. Even though Godzilla always stomps their cities to pieces they always triumph. It's like a morality tale with them.
When I was living in Osaka someone who worked in the studio that made the Godzilla movies decided to borrow the costume and wear it to a party where he caused it to be damaged to the tune of a hundred and seventy five thousand dollars. I wish I was at that party. Hanging out with the Nigerians. That would have been epic.
The first european looking guy I saw in Beijing... I stopped him as was my custom in the orient and inquired of the conditions and opportunities there in this new city. Blonde hair in China or Japan had always meant 'help desk' to me. We vagabonds and adventurers always stuck together and usually became instant friends as long as there wasn't a woman involved.
Then I asked him if he had ever heard of 'The Crocodile.'
He said that he would take me to see him right now. Right then. Right there. Unbelievable. I'm not kidding. No shit. I couldn't believe it either.
I had found 'The Crocodile.'
The man walked me to a hotel a few blocks away from the railroad station. It was an old building that looked straight out of the 1920's, like just about every other building in Beijing. You could see that it was really beautiful at one time... maybe even opulent or exclusive... but it, like anything else that was once beautiful or opulent, it seemed to fall into despair and decay under the custodianship of the communists. That was the way pretty much all of Beijing looked. With brown air and trees and bushes that were different from all those I had even known. I always notice the trees and bushes in a new city. Here on the other side of the world the plant life and the vegetation was odd to me... just unusual enough to stick out in my mind.
The man knocked on the door and we were answered by a nice looking blonde woman on her early twenties. She looked kind of pissed off but invited us in still. My guide just turned around and left with little more than a gesture to the woman. I followed her into the room.
It had become a bit of a self entertainment for me to wonder why the man I was seeking should be called "The Crocodile." It intrigued me from the moment I had heard it and in my mind I came up with all sorts of reasons for the nickname. None of them pleasant.
The room was an illustration in contrasts... inside "The Crocodile" had rented two rooms... he knocked down the wall that had seperated them and completely remolded it. This guy was livin' cush. He sat on the edge of his bed playing with the tv remote control as if it had befuddled him... I could tell from body language that his girlfriend and he had just been fighting.
"The Crocodile" stood up and turned around to face me... the guy must have been six and a half feet tall... and immediately I could see why they called him "The Crocodile."
He wore these braces on his teeth... the largest mass of metal I've ever seen in a persons mouth. Communist braces aren't very pretty... but these... "The Crocodiles" mouth looked like it had been installed by a blacksmith... an angry, drunken blacksmith. Like hammered bars of hot metal hand forged around each of his teeth.
I had to make myself stop staring as he got right down to business. Croc asked me when I wanted to leave... he said he had one ticket and he wanted a hundred and ten bucks American for it. There'd be no negotiating I could tell that right away. I had a feeling that if I tried that he'd have just relieved me of all my dough right there. Probably my gear too.
We were in a bit of a funny situation for a couple of reasons... I thought the ticket looked fake... it looked worse than some of the permits and passes I'd forged in school. I didn't have a visa to enter Russia... and I didn't carry that kind of currency in US dollars. I wasn't too sure that the Russians would actually be too excited about me coming to their country either. When I expressed this to "The Crocodile" he laughed a powerful and boisterous laugh and told me not to worry about it... he'd just gimme the ticket on good faith... so I could try and get a visa and cash a travellers check or something to come up with the Dollars he wanted. Besides he said "I know where your seat is and when you'll be leaving and if you fuck me I'll kill you" after which he laughed another deep laugh and gave me a half hug. "I want my money by next week he said." and walked me to the door where he said goodbye and his girlfriend gave me another dirty look.
That was it. Absolutely fucking unbelievable. I'm in Beijing less than two hours and I found my guy and I got my ticket. Now I just needed a visa from the Soviet Consulate. He'd also tell me there if the ticket was real I figured.
But right now I needed a place to stay. That would have to be my first order of business. The Croc's hotel seemed a little too luxurious for my budget... I needed something 'dumpier.' Something where my kind'd fit in you know?
I walked out of the hotel and on to the street... pausing for a moment to take a breath of the sulfery yellow tinged air and feel the pulse of the street there...a moment to let the vibe of it all sink in. I could have gone left or I could have gone right but it really didn't matter because I had no idea where I was going anyway. It's like a rule with me... like walking on the upwind side of the street because that's where all the paper money blows. Go left.
My friend Joel... the guy who'd saved my ass from the knife weilding Yakuza that pressed certain death into my throat in that bar in Osaka... he told me that he went insane and that he would hear these voices in his head that always said the same thing... "look to the left Joel." If he wasn't crazy already he said that those voices would do it... he never understood the meaning of it. Stupid voices in your head... they never tell you anything good... like "stay away from that one... she's trouble." They're always all cryptic. You gotta try to figure them out and break the code. Joel said the lithium they gave him pretty much shut the voices down. I never had heard voices though. It would probably be fun for a day or two... just to see what they would say. I think if I had voices they would sound like Vincent Price on LSD.
So I went left after I walked out of the Crocodile's hotel. I usually always go left when I got no idea but this time I was especially glad I did.
I get about a block and right there smack dab... badda bing... I run into this guy I lived with in Osaka Japan... Mike Levine... a Jewish guy from Jersey. He had let me borrow a pair of his shoes because I could find any in my size in Japan. Mike's got this big smile on his face as he sees me... we hug and slap each others backs and talk about the fight that got me thrown out of the university in Japan that we both went to.
Mike gave me directions to a suitably dumpy hotel and we parted ways.
Walking down the street I saw a couple of American girls... who turned out to be two really granola looking lesbian backpackers from Nebraska.
I stopped them there and asked them where they were staying... they said they had no idea... I invited them to share a hotel room with me if we could find one... plus the thought of girl on girl action sounded like really good fun to me. I felt like I was really going to like Beijing. It seemed like an easy city. Things were looking good.
Was this my lucky day or what?
Shit, I been here for like two hours... I already met the guy I came to meet, had a ticket for the Trans Siberian, hooked up with two lesbians and there we found a three dollar a night hotel. Six yuan a night for each of us. What more greatness could god bestow on me? Another lesbian? A blind supermodel? That would just be asking too much I thought. Lady Luck, I've always said, she was indeed a friend of mine.
Never look a gift horse in the mouth they say... so I unpacked my gear in the hotel room... every bit of it... and spread it all around. I always unpack fully so if I get robbed they can't just take one bag and split... they gotta work for it... then I unscrew all the lightbulbs in the room so they gotta have a flashlight to do it well... and then I make some loud noise making booby trap... like a pyramid of empty beer cans behind the door... then they gotta have nerves of steel to finish the job. Never got robbed once. Never. I have come home more than a few times affected by some intoxicant or another and fallen vicim to my own booby traps though. It always scared the beejesus out of me.
The Nebraska lesbians unpacked too.
Time to get out of here... It was time to go have a look at Beijing.
I left the hotel in a hurry and jumped on the first bus I saw... it didn't matter where the bus was going...I didn't care... I was sure that I hadn't been there anyway. That's the great thing about exploring like that. A new city... just go anywhere. It's all new.
Sitting on the bus I was of course the only westerner riding it. The Chinese weren't as polite as the Japanese and they would just stare at you forever... sometimes with mouth agape even... and I found myself very much the center of attention... the center of attention was something I really didn't want to be. I kinda wanted to blend in really. That was going to be tough.
I started having what could only be described as auditory hallucinations on that bus... that happened alot to me in China... but right there it was bad... the cacaphony of Chinese voices started to filter itself out in my hyperactive mind and become english... I could understand things sometimes... I was certain that people were commenting on how intoxicated I was... they all knew it... they were all talking about me... looking at me... 'Is that American guy drunk out of his gourd or what?' I had to get off that bus. The sweat was pouring from my pores. It was getting to be more than uncomfortable... it was unbearable.
The next stop was my stop no matter where it might be... soon as it stopped I jumped off that bus so fast... I didn't even have a clue as to where I was... and I didn't care. Away from that hash house hotel and off of that bus...I just wanted my own little piece of contraband free real estate where I could sit and watch China go by and make amusing comments in my head to entertain myself.
This was my stop.
Before me was layed an enormous plaza... I had never seen such a large paved public space. It was gigantic enough it looked like you could lay down and land a 747 in it if you went from one corner to the next. It was so big and vast that the smog of Beijing obscured the other side of it from me. I didn't know what this place was, but it made me feel realy small... insignificant actually... which was precisely how I wanted to feel.
I stood at Tienenmen Square.
This was the old Beijing... the one that used to be before the extremely systematic exploitation of cheap labor turned the place into a giant pachinko parlor... this was the dirty, dusty and gritty beijing where products were pulled around on wagons by teams of horses who shit big piles in the streets that you'd go straight over the handlebars of your bicycle if you didn't look where you were going. I'd seen it.
This was the Beijing where the streets seemed impossibly large considering no one really owned a car... the Beijing where the old people all wore those navy blue or black or gray kung fu outfits and walked around stooping with their hands clasped behind their backs as if some ultimate power had ordered them to for all time.
This was the square in Beijing where less than a year had passed since thousands of students took a chance to try and change their world... this was the Beijing where tanks had rolled over them without mercy and their bodies were torn apart by the callousness of lead flying around at ballisticly high speeds and cruel random trajectories. This was the Beijing where their blood ran like rivers down the curbs and into the sewers where like the extinguishing of their tender lives for naught all was soon forgotten by a world more infatuated with its demand for cheap consumer electronics in attractive clamshell packaging.
The one year anniversary of the slaughter was approaching and here as if by accident I find myself in the place where history was made and so conveniently forgotten.
Here and there I could still see bullet scars, burns and other marks that told the tale of a failed movement killed in a single night of murderous debauchery.
It was eerie in Beijing. I couldn't put my finger on it. Was it just the intoxicant's influence? I couldn't place it until I found a nice grassy place to sit down and let everything stabilize. Let my altered mind stop spinning.
The young people were all gone.
The government had sent what looked like the entire youth of the capitol city to 'summer camp,' where they'd sing patriotic songs and watch lots of motivational films and learn the error of their ways. It was re-education for the entire young population... there was almost no one walking around that city bettween the age of fourteen and twenty one. It was spooky... strange mojo in a strange land. Like some kind of Twilight Zone episode.
Everybody's seen the picture of 'Tank Man,' that guy whose name the world doesn't know... the one who was walking home from the grocery store with a couple of plastic bags in his hands... the guy who became a lonely human roadblock for a column of tanks... I know I could never forget that guy... he had balls the size of watermelons that one. I woudda love to have bought that guy a drink or eight.
I was walking down that street and a momentary sense of deja vu made me stop... It felt like I'd been there before... it didn't take too long for the reality to hit me... I was standing in that spot. In the Tank Man's spot. The premonition came from looking at that photograph.
There was a pay phone there... on the side of the street... you can see it in the Tank Man picture... I thought my parents might like to know where in the world I was so I tried to call them from it without luck. Maybe they'd think it was cool that I was calling them from there I thought.
I wanted to feel the scene out... I wanted to let it all sink in a little bit so I sat down and I had a look around. It all began to unfold in my mind... the direction the tanks came from... the sounds they'd make... their squeaking tracks rolling on the asphalt echoing in the canyon of concrete buildings... I could see the crosswalk he was walking across when it happened.
I stood up, still painting the scene on the canvas of my mind with the brushes of my imagination and I walked towards the crosswalk... just as he did that remarkable day.
Man... sometimes even I have a hard time putting things into words... sometimes feelings, emotions and perceptions are just too powerful and swift to get a grasp on.
Surveying the scene where this historic collision happened from the street... it was so much different than the picture we all know... that was shot from high above... it's got a whole different tone than the lonliness and isolation that the street level offered. Just like in the square where I had felt so small... even the street there was massive in width... one of those subcompact cars flying through the smog could have crushed me like a bug. The thought of standing my ground in front of a column of many ton armored tanks with their diesel engines shaking and belching thick black smoke and rumbling in anger... I'll tell you this... with the greatest respect that I can muster... that guy... at that moment... he took on the entire world. He was a bad ass motherfucker who said 'hey... I don't like what's going down here.' and he backed it up with his hundred and fifty pound body alone in the streets. He never even put those grocery bags down. But for a moment, that man stopped the world. He stood his ground. He stood our ground. He stood for everyman that day.
I didn't.
I didn't even chance stopping where he did. I didn't want to stop a bus.
When I got across the street I walked back towards Tienenmen Square wondering what happened to the guy.
These thoughts were crisply punctuated when I found the remains of a completely flattened bicycle. It had been run over by something pretty heavy because it was as flat as a bicycle could conceivably become. It even had a curve to it... a lot of parts were gone but the frame, the handlebars, even the rims were crushed flat. I picked it up, still thinking about Tank Man and I realized what it meant.
Something inside me wanted to take it home... to show my people... people born and raised with a freedom fought for by others... I wanted to show them what we pretty much let happen here... the great crime that we ignored. It was a strong symbol to me at least of an oppresive government that lost it's temper on it's own people.
I'd never get that flattened bicycle home, but I carried stashed inside the tubes of my backpack messages that people had asked me to carry out of the country to a place where mistakenly so they thought good and decent people might give two shits about the treachery bestowed upon them in their quest for what we have but could really care less about. A freedom so strong... a freedom so deep that it was a part of me wether I was conscious about it or not... a freedom that formed the person I was and carried me on a long and mostly accidental journey to a place where youth was cut short for having the audacity and lack of patience to demand a more tolerant society where people would count for just a little more than cheap labor.
I promised myself I'd remember what happened to them. I promised myself that on June 4th, 1990 that I'd say a prayer there in Tienenmen Square. I'd recognize their martyrdom to the cause of freedom and I'd pay my respects on the anniversary of the barbarism of their all powerful and vicious central authority.
When that morning came with its sultry brownish orange sunrise, three hundred and sixty five days after the blood letting, when the flag of a nation was raised over it's most proud square... I was the only person that wasn't Chinese standing there as a witness to at least offer the the quiet contempt of my heart and the objection of my soul as a counterbalance to the disgrace of the murder of these children.
There were no television cameras or satellite trucks... no journalists fixing their hair or taking notes on those long pads that they carry. Nothing.
I carried no sign or banner... I spoke no message of objection. I sought to instigate nothing.
I stood there in Tienenmen Square as a witness.
A witness to what the rest of the free world was so selfishly quick to forget.
Two days later I'd board a train that I'd get off of in another world... where a wall that represented hate and anger and mistrust would be falling, hacked to pieces bit by bit by a people celebrating a new freedom and unity.
L’autorisation d’exploiter cette roue a été accordée en 1821 à Joseph Laval pour l’irrigation d’un jardin.
Elle est située sur le bras de Sorgue des Névons au fond du parc Gauthier.
La période hivernale et l'intervention des jardiniers l'a rend à nouveau visible depuis le Cours Anatole France.
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Permission to operate this waterwheel was granted in 1821 to Joseph Laval for the irrigation of a garden.
It is located on the Névons branch of the Sorgue River at the far end of Gauthier Park.
The winter season and the work of the gardeners have made it visible again from Cours Anatole France.
"Read the News"
Hanoi (Vietnam)
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© cuma 2013. © Copyright – Marcelo Moreno©. Photos are copyrighted. All rights reserved. Pictures can not be used without explicit permission by the creator.
© cuma 2013. © Copyright – Marcelo Moreno©. Estas fotos tienen derechos de autor. Todos los derechos reservados. Las imágenes no pueden ser utilizadas sin autorización expresa del autor.
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Texturas logradas con distintos filtros de PS.
¡¡Para Anna y Edgardo, esperando poder acercarles algo de “Nuestro Buenos Aires Querido”!!
¡¡Un saludo afectuoso!!
"Engine inspection"
Meeting aérien "Air Legend" 2019 (Melun-Villaroche)
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Les carrières à ciel ouvert existaient à l’époque gallo-romaine aux endroits ou la couche superficielle est la moins épaisse. L’exploitation se faisait en extrayant de plus en plus profondément jusqu’à atteindre la meilleure qualité. De là on creusait des galeries en suivant les meilleurs bancs. Les carriers laissaient des piliers aux endroits fissurés plus que par raison de sécurité. Les salles souterraines pouvaient atteindre plusieurs mètres de profondeur. Les enfants avaient la charge d’évacuer les débris invendables en les entassant à l’intérieur de la carrière. Les blocs étaient inspectés et vendus sur place puis évacués par des chevaux ou des bœufs attelés jusqu’au port ou ils étaient chargés sur les embarcations à voile et à fond plat.
"Peaceful walk"
Cirque Du Fer à Cheval, Sixt Fer à Cheval, Vallée du Giffre (Hte Savoie)
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"Its wide range of growth from Southeast Asia,
Philippines, Malaysia, Indonesia + into Papua New Guinea
allow this species to be increasingly exploited.”
In addition to furniture and cabinetry, Paldao is used for architectural projects, yachts, aircraft interiors, interior joinery and musical instruments. “It definitely is a species on the rise,” Banas said.
The north end of Dennison Beach ends in a series of rock platforms called 'The Porches' that exhibit all manner of marine weathering.
The rock varies from shale to mudstone with many inclusions and odd deposits. There are a couple of coal (or lignite) seams along with petrified wood and other fossils.
Here, a fissure has been exploited by the sea to eat away at the island.
Next couple of posts will explore some of the interesting rockpools of the Porches.
Nikon Z6, Nikkor 14-30/4, 1/80th sec at f/14, ISO 160
Further exploitation of the foggy conditions on the Sussex coast between Brighton and Worthing. I've read that you should only take photographs at dawn or dusk - I think fog/mist proves there is an exception to that rule.
Exp: 30 secs
f: 8.0
Iso: 50
Some birds aren't meant to be caged, their feathers are just too bright and beautiful.
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