View allAll Photos Tagged fragile
Magical misty morning at sunrise in the Florida Everglades. This blue heron let me get very close and then flew off. Such fragility here. Looks like such a big bird, but then you see it's all feathers. Such a small and fragile body. Brings me to tears in some poignant way.
Taken 2/24/13. Uploaded 3/1/13, 2013 02 24 aR72 BWlook 5 DB LRTwk CE TCSF Fog HK DB AnhingaTrail GrohTrip-00651-Edit-Edit.tif-
Hubby had a heart-attack. He's fine now, but it reminds me once again.... how fragile we are.
Back soon.
"Fragile:" The delicate damselfly, with eyes like marbles that look so big and round on its little body, and wings so thin and so translucent that the low-angled light of the evening sun passes right through them, reminded me of how fragile life is. As Samuel Decker Thompson has written, "We are all just a car crash, a diagnosis, an unexpected phone call, a newfound love, or a broken heart away from becoming a completely different person. How beautifully fragile we are that so many things can take but a moment to alter who we are for forever?"
We wrapped our dreams in words and patterned the words so that they would live forever, unforgettable.
"Siempre la ruta suspendida. La cordura loca. Siempre el lugar equivocado. El yo equivocado. El tú equivocado. El nosotros equivocado. Siempre la grandeza en el bolsillo. Siempre el hoy en el mañana. Siempre el ayer en el siempre. Siempre el paso a paso que termina en tropiezo. Siempre la sonrisa en llanto. Siempre el llanto en el mundo. Siempre el mundo en mí. Siempre el equilibrio malogrado y los cristales quebrantados. Siempre el apego en el dolor. Siempre el dolor en mí. Siempre la fragilidad en cada tropiezo. Siempre la fiesta en la casa de al lado. Siempre la derrota en el ceño. Siempre la noche en el nosotros equivocado. Siempre la vida en la tristeza. La tristeza en la esperanza. La vida en el nunca. Siempre la araña para las moscas. Siempre la ausencia en este aquí. Siempre mi cuerpo machacando dudas. Siempre este azul a contraluz. Siempre este caos al caer el telón. Siempre estas ganas de dejarme ir. Siempre este no saber qué hacer con tanto yo equivocado. Siempre la pregunta. Sólo la pregunta". ( My Blog)
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Always at the end of the road, always dealing with my crazy sanity, always at the wrong place, always wrong, the wrong you, the wrong me, the wrong us. Always greatness in a strangers´ pocket. Always today in tomorrow, always yesterday in forever, always the same steps that end in pain, always a smile through the tears and the world in tears. Always the world in me, always doing a balancing act and looking through broken windows. Always attachment to the pain, always the pain in me, as always fragile. Always the party next door, always defeat in a frown, always the night at the wrong time, always living in sadness, sadness in hope, life in neverland. Always the fly to the spider, always this sense of absence. Always crushing doubts, always the same blue backlight. Always chaos as the curtain falls, Always willing to let go, not knowing what to do with all these wrongness. Always the question. Just the question.
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Explored April 14, 2009
It is some time since I had a half-decent odonata photo to post, so I was pleased to find something during Houston's "winter". Pretty certain this is a mature female Fragile Forktail (Ischnura posita). Any alternative identification suggestions from the local experts in Texas are welcome. She was photographed in the main pond of Houston Arboretum, TX.
Flickr Explore # 369 on Friday, February 3, 2017
This is definitely one of my favorite rl photos I have ever taken. There's something simply surreal about butterflies, their entire existence from start to finish. Such fragile creatures, even in their infancy, yet most make it to adulthood relatively unscathed.
It is when they become adults that the real danger is apparent. One wrong move on their part, or the part of anyone else, and their very existence is no more. Yet they persevere, they weather the storms, they keep fluttering.
I often wonder if they have the cognizance of their own mortality, beauty and fragility. I mean, it's not like we can simply ask them, right?
I'm a lot like a butterfly, in more ways than I'll ever admit, or that anyone wants to read. Though none have anything to do with the superficial exterior, the appearance, the beauty. I don't often understand my own fragility, either, but I keep fluttering anyway, albeit perhaps a bit crooked sometimes.
114/365
I'm already on my 171 photo, but i'm still catching up with upload my project here on flickr. Check my other pages for my more fresh photos.
Fotoblog: anjamatko.blogspot.com/
Portfolio: 500px.com/AnjaMatko
DA: crazygirl44.deviantart.com/
To me the Pride of India is the tree with the most beautiful flowers. Here is another image of the breathtaking yet fragile beauty.
By now the survivors of this year’s brood are well along in their journey southward for the winter. Fearless as chicks, these tiny piping plovers will learn to stay clear of humans as they mature. Most of the young plovers are no longer approachable just months after hatching. Their survival is intimately tied to the efforts of number of people who do their best to try to protect what little breeding ground is left for these fragile little birds. #PipingPlovers
“Man is harder than iron, stronger than stone and more fragile than a rose.” - Turkish Proverb
“But friendship is the breathing rose, with sweets in every fold.” - Oliver Wendell Holmes
I kept these roses for quite a while and they dried and aged since I first bought them. They are so fragile but that's what makes them so beautiful.
Fragile Forktail (Ischnura posita) male.
Village Creek Drying Beds. Arlington, Texas.
Tarrant County. 27 May 2019.
Nikon D500. Nikkor AF-S 300mm f4E ED PF VR + TC-14e III teleconverter.
(420mm) f6.3 @ 1/5000 sec. ISO 500.
Day 51 of 365 days.
Letter F Fragile- vulnerably delicate, as in appearance.
Her bones were brittle as her soul was. She dreamed everyday about just falling apart. But never could come to such conclusion. She was fragile on the outside, but was strong on the inside. She fought & fought for everything she had & now her soul is held high. She is strong. She no longer is fragile.
This is basically up for you to interpret. Kinda of a personal piece in some sense.
I've been lacking in getting really good concepts. Life is just in the way. Tomorrow I hope to take something really personal to let out emotions because I can tell I'm bottling up. I just want to write & write my feelings out about life. Ugh, what school does to my soul.. Anyway, today was overall a decent day. I helped at this festival at my church by taking pictures was nice
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www.youtube.com/watch?v=k01aOKPhZNw
The strongest love is the love that can demonstrate its fragility.
Paulo Coelho
© All rights reserved Anna Kwa. Please do not use this image on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit written permission