View allAll Photos Tagged exploremore
Never have I imagined to see some intense green pastures in the San Francisco . Spring in northern California has some incredible hidden gems to uncover
Went out for a fun day in Skagit Valley. Was able to bump the rig up to 1/32000 @ 100 iso but wasn't able to get anything sharp. Slowing it down and shooting in portrait seemed to help a lot.
The beauty of winter is about isolating yourself and visiting places like the Yosemite Valley to witness these cold landscapes that give you the inner warmth you need..It was such a pretty sight to shoot the Yosemite Valley
It was a quiet and beautiful morning in the wild flower capital of Colorado in Crested Butte and it was a delight faraming with these lovely wildflowers flowers
I’ve never had particularly strong opinions on the subject of the British Royal Family. Some people love them and will entertain the rest of us by standing cheerfully for hours in the rain dressed in Union Jack costumes just to catch a glimpse, while others believe they should be rehomed in one of the more challenging inner city tenement blocks just next to the sewage works. I can’t really get that excited either way, although the thought of HRH queuing up for scratch cards at the local Costcutter seems a bit drastic to me. Those Republicans could at least allow her to retain her butler to wait in line while Mrs Trunchball from number 42 empties the contents of her purse over the counter to pay for a carton of Benson and Hedges and a bottle of Bombay Sapphire. They’re certainly in the news a lot, courtesy of those obsessive red top reporters who’ve lost sight of the lofty goals they once had when their search for the truth was replaced by the need to pay bills. I don’t buy newspapers – I can come to my own uninformed sweeping conclusions without paying somebody else to draw them for me thank you. And I don’t feel the need to prop up dynasties even more powerful than that of the Royal Family with my hard-earned cash for that matter either. Mr Murdoch and his friends are doing well enough already.
Like many imperial agnostics I was saddened though, when the not entirely unexpected news was released at Easter that Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh had come to the peaceful end of his long life, just a couple of months short of what would have been his one hundredth birthday. For almost all of us, we’d grown up with him as a permanent fixture in our lives, famous for his ready wit, and the gaffes in front of foreign dignitaries that occasionally had the upper echelons among the diplomatic service reaching for the valium. Only a couple of years earlier he’d written off his Range Rover, and very nearly a startled member of the public while he was at it. At the end the TV clips showed a very frail looking man returning to the palace from hospital. The unhappy outcome appeared inevitable.
Death comes to us all of course, even to the seemingly indestructible, and I remembered the time we were all made to queue up in the main street in Falmouth one August afternoon in 1977 when the Queen visited our town during the Silver Jubilee year. It was the summer holidays and my year group was in between schools. We were about to become the latest intake of small fry at the local comprehensive, having outgrown our old school, but this didn’t stop us being pressganged into wearing those drab brown uniforms one last time. But somehow we didn’t mind, standing in line waiting for the royals to pass by, waving our flags and grinning inanely at each other. The whole town seemed to have come out for the occasion. The street was filled with huge numbers of well wishers on both sides and when the big moment came, the Queen took the opposite flank. Nobody had prepared us for this disappointment. All we could see was the back of her head as she greeted the despised ranks of King Charles School “Bluebottles,” our nearest neighbours; our deadliest enemies. Contrast their smart blue uniforms to the ones we were saddled with – the ones that earned us the unwanted nickname the “Brown Cows.” The only people who hated those brown outfits more than the Bluebottles did were the ones who were forced to wear them to school each day. Imagine being referred to as a Brown Cow when you’re an eleven year old boy? Well of course you had your own rivalries to suffer. But we’d never hear the end of this. “Who are that ugly looking lot in brown?” Her Majesty probably asked our blue clad counterparts. Perhaps not – she’s famous for keeping her conversations as uncontroversial as possible.
But we’d forgotten the Duke, who was walking towards us, stopping for one of his famous quips. “I suppose you’ve all been forced to stand here waiting for us, have you?” We grinned again, and laughed dumbly in the awkward way eleven year olds do. He’d singled us out and spoken to us. Ok so we hadn’t met the Queen, but this was still pretty good wasn’t it? Somewhere there’s a photograph of that moment from all those years ago, taken by my father who was a teacher at our school. I really must try and find it.
What’s all of the reminiscing in the virtual filing cabinet between my ears got to do with the picture? Well the magnificent seven youngsters carrying seven day-glo orange backpacks were very probably walking in his name. Among his many accomplishments, Prince Philip came up with the idea of the Duke of Edinburgh Awards, which have since spread across the world. More cajoling of reluctant youngsters, but in what seems a very positive way. For me the opportunity to do wholesome deeds never arose as far as I can remember, although I probably airbrushed it out of my social programme during ten years of self induced adolescent sloth and have since forgotten about it. But I imagine those seven youngsters, gradually making their way around the same ridge as us in front of the four peaks around Pen y Fan were doing something they’ll hopefully look back on fondly one day. Much as I remember that August day all those years ago when the Duke stopped to say hello to a herd of Brown Cows from Clare Terrace School.
CHOBE RIVERFRONT | BOTSUANA
At the end of our boattrip we came across this big herd of buffalos, standing against one of the most stunning sunsets, we had ever seen.
That bird is just the cream on the cake. :)
A beautiful scene at the Sierra Nevada Ranges and was hard not to miss capturing it
Cant wait to explore Sierras this winter
It was almost time for the weekend again. Ahead of me lay the novel experience of my first ever flu jab. Everyone in Britain aged over 50 is entitled to a flu jab this winter, and it seemed rude to refuse my turn when it came along. A local clinic was being held in the village hall where we queued up patiently outside, waiting for our two minute window to arrive. I felt like the new boy at the office, a mere stripling compared to most of my fellow patients as we loitered and smiled politely at one another, announcing ourselves to one another not by name, but by the time of our appointment. I was Mr 9:38. So while Mrs 9:40, who'd arrived before me gracefully stood aside to allow me to pass, I in turn made way for Mrs 9:35 and Mrs 9:36. At 9:37 I timidly entered the hall and announced my presence, where I was directed to one of the four "jabbing stations." By 9:39 I was on my way back to the car. My left shoulder is throbbing very gently, but apart from that I'm fine, and presumably less likely to succumb to a dose of the flu this winter. Thanks for asking.
Later in the day I met my children for a long overdue lunch at the legendary Smokey Joe's. For the uninitiated, Smokey's is just off the A30, within 15 minutes' walk of home for me. Thought of by many as a truck stop, it is more often than not full of locals from Redruth and the surrounding area. The portions are generous to say the least.
Order the Hungryman's all day breakfast and unless you have the most enormous appetite in the universe, you won't need to eat again for the rest of the day. In fact you might still be trying to finish it at closing time. You probably won't feel the need to order dessert afterwards.
All of this excitement meant that getting outside with the camera on Saturday was looking unlikely. I'd resigned myself to this fact despite the sunshine, which was bringing conditions as pleasant as you're likely to see here in the middle of December. At this time of year, even on a good day the light is facing rapidly by 4pm. So it was fortunate that I'd already inspected the weekend weather forecast and decided Sunday was the day for me. Yes, I'd chosen driving rain, black clouds and high winds over benign sunshine and fluffy clouds.
Dave announced he had decided he's a fair weather photographer and wasn't coming. Lee was waiting for his wife to come home so that he could use the car. He said he might join me if he was able to a bit later. In truth I suspected I'd be alone. All morning today I looked doubtfully through the window at a world of terminally grey skies and drizzle, yet I remained confident that a gap in the clouds might come later - and when you want to watch the weather properly, there's no better place to go to than Wheal Coates.
The big waves that I'd hoped the incoming tide might deliver didn't happen on the grand scale I'd hoped for, so I had to resort to a hastily devised backup plan. I have something very specific in mind for this location, but I haven't quite had the right conditions yet. Of course what makes me happy about that is it means my business isn't done here yet. As I arrived though, the light had started to filter through those brooding clouds, throwing shafts of yellow onto the sea. This one was taken right at the beginning of the two hours I spent here today - a reminder that in winter you don't just wait for sunset because you can shoot throughout the day and the best light often comes early. The rest of the visit was spent battling the drifting rain and trying to keep the tripod steady in the wind. These challenges are always fun, and each time I encounter them I feel I've come away with a tiny bit more experience in dealing with them. I also now know exactly what's needed for the conditions I'm waiting for here. Hopefully they'll arrive soon enough. Hopefully I'll be ready to grab the moment when it comes.
I recently snapped some adorable photos of our backyard chickens discovering their new chicken coop!
LOFOTEN FEBRUARY 2018
Not that classical red hut - but a very nice one if you ask me.
More on www.flipbook.schaake.de
Cheers
Michael
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Our final evening in Venice (2018). We sat at the waterside with cups of red wine watching the sunset.
KRUGER PARK
Only 5 minutes in the park, this was our first major sighting. Wow, what a start. We've seen a lot of rhinos in Namibia, but never one with such an impressive horn.
Never before I have experienced cold winds and when I say cold, as cold as it can get and see these trees stand like a boss..Truly divine experience to visit the Arctic Tundra on the Dalton Highway in Alaska
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AiRHARE - The Knitted Set
Location: Mainstore
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Surfcasting Martha's Vineyard-
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Martha's Vineyard, Massachusetts - June 2020
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