View allAll Photos Tagged fumer
F-AZAT en vol dans la fumée lors du meeting aérien Le Temps des Hélices, le 4 juin 2017.
Aérodrome de Cerny-La Ferté-Alais, Essonne, Île-de-France, France - (06/2017).
© Quentin Douchet.
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© Hervé DAPREMONT
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Technical info :
Camera : Pentax K-7
Lens : Sigma 50mm f/1.4 EX DG HSM
Exposure : 0.005s (1/180)
Aperture : f/9.0
Focal Length : 50 mm
Sensibility : ISO 100
Filter : None
Software :
Lightroom 3.0 | Photoshop CS5
Strobist Info
La scène ne se prêtant pas à un cliché "Behind the Strobist Scene" je vais mettre les info directement sur la photo !
Luc Planson, a friend of mine, and I are making a 50|50 in the same time !!!
Please, take a look to his 50|50 Set
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[Explore / 20 Jan 2011]
Explore highest position : 127 on Saturday, January 22, 2011 ! Thanks everybody !!!
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I am sitting at a campfire with friends... my mind wanders... someone asks me to tell a story... and i start to tell this one:
'Heather was still walking along the surf. She'd had a row with her husband of five years... again. Now she had been walking these endless beaches for hours and the sun was setting. There were less and less people to be seen, as the the few that she saw were packing their stuff just now to return home from a day on the beach.
Her hubby could be such a pest sometimes. Half the day he had tried to talk her out of her one piece swimsuit into a bikini, that was merely three tiny patches of fabric kept together with a length of string. And when she finally gave in and put it on, he pushed her to walk around and show herself off at the quite crowded beach. Before their argument could be noticed by all the people around, Heather had finally stood up from their blanket and wandered off towards the sea. Hubby had for sure worn a big smile, thinking that she'd finally do what he wanted her to, but when she'd continued to walk away, he probably fumed with anger.
That had been early afternoon. She was a lot of miles away from the spot of beach by now, and it was getting dark. With the sun setting, the cool breeze from the sea made Heather shiver. Eventually, Heather started to realize the situation she was in. She had no money, her smartphone was among the things that she left with her husband.... and above this, she was as good as naked. She should have panicked now. But the last embers of her anger, that went to heat up again into flames as she blamed her hubby for her current situation, gave her enough courage to approach a group of young people who were setting up a warming fire at a secluded spot of beach, that would have been a little paradise if she had seen it in bright daylight.
She counted five boys and a girl, all in their early twenties, who were laughing and drinking around the fire that was just starting to blaze up. With a bright smile she said "Hi... may i warm myself up a bit at your campfire?" Two of the guys immediately got up to offer her a seat on a blanket, but the girl who was leaning against a log of dead wood, nestled into a warming blanket, waved for Heather to come over. Not sure how to behave, Heather slowly approached her, as the blonde girl spread her arms, opening the blanket to offer to Heather to creep in with her. "Come here. You freeze to death if you stay in the cold wind, even with the fire. How long have you been walking around like this?" In the flickering firelight, she noticed that the girl was naked, but the prospect of being warmed up, snuggled into the blanket enjoying the warmth of the other girl's naked body against her icy skin, was too alluring to hesitate. She just sat between the girls legs, leaning her back against a soft tummy and firm breasts as the blanket was pulled closed over her shivering body with two wrists now being pressed into her own soft mounds. As Heather continued shivering, the girl whispered to the guy on her right to bring a drink. "Hush, baby... we'll get you warm again in no time. Can't have you getting a pneumonia...".
Heather was served a strong smelling liquid from a coffee mug and started to cough as the sharp alcoholic drink was poured into her mouth. But if she didn't want the drink to just flow over her face and soak the blanket, she had to swallow, as the guy didn't stop pouring before the mug was empty. "Shh...", she heard the girl whispering into her ear, "just close your eyes a moment until you stop shivering."
Heather closed her eyes, calming down... the shiver subsided, until she shuddered just occasionally. She started to feel good as her skin started to heat up beneath the blanket, almost burning where it was in close touch with the other girl's skin. "Shh..." the girl whispered again as Heather gave a start, when she felt the ties of her suit being opened and her tiny top and bottom being removed, "just relax...". Almost in a daze Heather
obeyed and snuggled her own completely naked body into the other girl again. She enjoyed, when two soft hands started to knead her soft breasts and bit her lip when slender fingers started to circle her engorged nipples. She turned her head to the side, as she felt the girls lips brushing her cheek, until she was able to receive a kiss on her lips. Heather didn't think, she just felt. She felt a burning all over her body, a tingling sensation in her mind, electric currents running wild under her skin. She didn't notice, that the blanket had been opened wide, so she was completely exposed to the view of five young men. The girl was french kissing Heather passionately, while playing with Heather's hard nipples and soft breasts. Smartphone cameras were recording every reaction of her heated body and flushed face. Stronger, larger hands were resting now on her thighs, others were massaging her sore feet.... Heather was melting, a bundle of overheated senses, a spirit of passion...
Whatever might have happened that night... it had not been in Heather's hands to stop anything of it. She never told her husband. She sometimes tried to search her memories, but didn't find any clues... Her hubby did search the internet, instead... and he did find... but he never did talk to her about it.'
Opening my eyes, i finish my story... looking around... they would have liked to hear more... but they know me... when i think my story is over, they will not get anything more out of me, even if they beg *smiles a broad smile*
Up close and personal with the magnificent Maleficent in dragon form as seen in the Festival of Fantasy parade. I like this image because it shows the massive amount of gas fumes that helps make the magic happen.
Magic Kingdom | Main Street USA | Festival of Fantasy
Thanks for looking. I appreciate feedback!
Sui tetti di Parigi i comignoli attendono la stagione fredda per fumare.
Chimneys on the roofs of Paris are waiting for the cold season to smoke.
Cheminées sur les toits de Paris sont en attente pour la saison froide de fumer.
Minolta X500
Fujichrome Sensia II
Epson V300 (scanned from slide)
Dans ce cimetière est enterré le violoniste du Titanic, Wallace Hartley, originaire de Colne, Lancashire
Alias: The Black Knight, Parnised Chief, Jefe
Weapon/Power/Tool: Dreaded Excalibur, Cusped Wrist, Fume Combustion
Species/Apperance: Plated Suit, Gas
Gender: Male
Race: Fluorion
Faction: Rainbow Branch (formeley), Vividal Army
Residence: Radiant Realm (formeley)
Occupation: Aristocrat
Status: Deceased
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Fabord is considered to be a Black Sheep, well, Black Knight in the Rainbow Branch, despite having a strong league compared to others, he tend to ignore other Vanguard warning and tasks. Fabord lead groups of Seguidor and Guard toward the back line, then summoning sharp blades with the Cusped Wrist toward the front to gap-close the line.
During Hinseusn downfall, Tyrant of the Radiant Realm, majority of the Flurion race fled back to there dimensions to avoid future conflict with the Lunar Domain. However, he decided to stick around the prevalent realm with a few followers, hoping for a better outcome.
When the Vivid Apocalypse approached, Fabord was apart of Nukegara infantry, commanding a much stronger army than before. During a tough battle, Fabord unfortunately got his wrist sliced off and the enemy used the Cusped against himself.
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Bray-Dunes, France, 12.2017
"Puis il descend vers la plage en sifflant du bout des lèvres. Il tient une pierre plate dans la main droite. La roche tombe à pic sur la baie. Il longe le bord glissant, et, l'esprit ailleurs, regarde vers la mer déserte. Au-delà de la ligne d'horizon s'élèvent quelques fumées légères de bateaux que l'on ne verra sans doute jamais."
>>> Stig Dagerman.......in: L'enfant brûlé (1948)