Name: Peter Taylor

Arrested for: not given

Arrested at: North Shields

Arrested on: 13 May 1915

Tyne and Wear Archives ref: DX1388-1-260-Peter Taylor

 

The Shields Daily News for 21 May 1915 reports:

 

“STEALING AND RECEIVING. MAN AND WOMAN SENT TO PRISON AT NORTH SHIELDS.

 

At North Shields today, Peter Taylor, a coppersmith, of 26 Whickham Street, Sunderland, was charged with stealing, between February 15th and May 12th, from a foundry in Lawson Street, 28 brass flanges, 25 brass bosses and a quantity of copper pipe ends, valued at £11, the property of James Hogg and Sons and Caroline Allen of 99 Church Street, Monkwearmouth was summoned for feloniously receiving the same, well knowing the same to have been stolen.

 

Mr P.M. Dodds prosecuted and Mr L. Wolff, of Sunderland, defended the female defendant. Mr P.M. Dodds stated that Taylor had been employed by James Hogg and Sons for three months and during the last two months they had been missing brass and copper from the foundry in Lawson Street. Suspicion fell on Taylor and he was kept under observation.

 

Det. Mason said that he had drilled a hole in a partition to watch Taylor and at 12.20pm on the 15th inst. he saw him pick up three brass flanges. He put one in his pocket and two down his trousers. He intercepted defendant and when charged he replied “I don’t deny stealing it.” Defendant also said he sold the brass and copper to defendant Allen. He did not know how much he had stolen, but Allen said she would buy anything up to an anchor. Witness then went to Sunderland and charged Allen, and she said Taylor had been telling lies, as she did not know they were stolen. She admitted buying flanges etc. from Allen, about four times a week, and she sold them to a Gateshead store.

 

John Hearn, foreman for James Hogg and Sons, went to Gateshead with Det. Mason and identified some flanges and copper. Taylor pleaded guilty and Allen not guilty. Mr Wolff then submitted there was no case against Allen, on the ground that she had not a guilty knowledge.

 

The magistrates committed Taylor to prison for three months and Allen for one month in the second division. The Mayor (Counc. H. Gregg) said that if it was not for the likes of Allen, Taylor would not be in the position he was in.”

 

These images are taken from an album of photographs of prisoners brought before the North Shields Police Court between 1902 and 1916 (TWAM ref. DX1388/1). This set is our selection of the best mugshots taken during the First World War. They have been chosen because of the sharpness and general quality of the images. The album doesn’t record the details of each prisoner’s crimes, just their names and dates of arrest.

 

In order to discover the stories behind the mugshots, staff from Tyne & Wear Archives & Museums visited North Shields Local Studies Library where they carefully searched through microfilm copies of the ‘Shields Daily News’ looking for newspaper reports of the court cases. The newspaper reports have been transcribed and added below each mugshot.

 

Combining these two separate records gives us a fascinating insight into life on the Home Front during the First World War. These images document the lives of people of different ages and backgrounds, both civilians and soldiers. Our purpose here is not to judge them but simply to reflect the realities of their time.

 

(Copyright) We're happy for you to share this digital image within the spirit of The Commons. Please cite 'Tyne & Wear Archives & Museums' when reusing. Certain restrictions on high quality reproductions and commercial use of the original physical version apply though; if you're unsure please email archives@twmuseums.org.uk.

Aankomst van de EVER GIVEN in Europoort 29-7-2021 , gezien vanaf de KRVE 71

Given i haven't been close to anyone the last few weeks and my lot tested negative ive no idea how i got covid

Taken at Cropston Reservoir. Given my recent beginning at college, and ever changing COVID-19 restrictions, I've found little time to take my camera anywhere over the last few months. These three photos were taken back in the summer, and I've decided not to put them to waste, and still post them. I hope to be able to get out over the holidays when possible, and try to start posting somewhat regularly again. But for now, these are all I have.

This Rapido Amaryllis has given me so much pleasure over the last few weeks.

Given the location on a wharf in Rockport, where crates of lobsters are often unloaded from the boats, it may well be the ghost of a fisherman lost at sea, sadly. The sad face is one third of the way down the post.

 

It continues to amaze me that I can look at something, like this post, that I have see a hundred times, and see something new in it.

As usual, any fungi IDs given are always tentative, not 100% confirmed. Rule is, if you are not an expert in mycology, do not pick wild mushrooms to eat! You could end up very sick, or worse.

 

Another gloomy day today, 13 September 2019, with a temperature of 14C just after noon. Yesterday, however, it was actually sunny, so I had to get out and make the most of it. It definitely feels and looks like fall. Snow is already being forecast for parts of Alberta. It will soon be time to get all-season tires off and winter tires put on.

 

Five days ago, on 8 September 2019, we had such a wonderful four and a half hours, searching for different kinds of fungi in the amazing forest on Rod Handfield's land, SW of Calgary. I believe this was our tenth visit - the first one I went on, being on 25 June 2009 - each one resulting in various different species. This last visit was so overwhelming! You didn't know which direction to face and which mushroom to photograph first. They were everywhere! Such a contrast to our visit on 6 August 2017, when basically there were no mushrooms (other than maybe three), because everywhere had been so very dry.

 

A day like this can be so exhausting, not just from the walking and fresh air, but also because of all the excitement. The quality of many of my photos is not the best, as the day was very overcast - the last thing one wants when trying to take photos deep in the forest. After leaving Rod's, it did rain. I had driven myself there instead of carpooling, so that I could drive some of the backroads in the area after we had finished. The forecast was for sun and cloud - and I had foolishly believed it. The rain put an end to my plans and I headed for home. I'm so glad I had checked a special little spot near Rod's first thing in the morning, when I got there a bit too early. A few years ago, there was a beautiful display of Fly Agaric / Amanita muscaria mushrooms growing there, but not since then whenever I have checked. To my absolute delight, there were maybe half a dozen, in different stages of development. Surprisingly, we didn't come across a single one in Rod's forest this year.

 

As always, thank you so much, Rod, for so generously allowing us to explore your property. This has been my favourite place to visit for quite a number of years now. We greatly appreciate your kindness - you are always so welcoming, and we learn so much and discover so many beautiful things. Thank you, Karel, for leading the group and helping with identifications. I'm sure at least some of us are anxiously waiting for you to have time, in between leading botany walks, to post some of your photos along with their IDs. Meanwhile, "fungus" has to be sufficient.

Given to me by my neighbour...

 

Keep the comments clean! No banners, awards or invitaitons, please!

D24584. Given good weather, Brean Beach is a splendid place to visit.

 

We were unlucky with the weather, but went there anyway; it faces west and is 6½ miles long with golden sand that’s firm enough for vehicles to park on - so no need to carry all the beach gear, picnic chairs, lunch boxes, etc. from a distant car park. It’s the second longest stretch of sand in Europe and, from what I could see, the sand is ideal material for sand castles.

 

Brean is in Somerset, north of Burnham-on-Sea and south of Weston-super-Mare; it has the second highest tidal range in the world. So when the tide goes out it really does go out, but in the process it exposes a large expanse of dangerous soft sand and mud, so extreme care is needed at low tide.

 

Whilst there I also shot a few feet of video and if anyone would like to see it, it’s on my YouTube channel:

 

www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZlMq4k5UHMc

 

Tuesday, 17th August, 2021. Copyright © Ron Fisher 2021.

Given the current state of the world and the fact I can't go out and about, this image was taken a few weeks back and recently converted to black and white.

I originally posted this image a year ago and the more I looked at it, the more unsatisfied I became. Sometimes reworking an image can pay off for the look one hopes to showcase. For me, I achieved the intensity that I wanted to present in this particular effort.

 

This was in a darkish bunker at Fort Flagler State Park on the Olympic Peninsula. There is something special about random wall artwork. These "hands" were made from fine white wall dust. Hope you all enjoy it......and as always, thanks for looking!

In celebration of the Apple Fall Interview given by Morbid Templar of Gachatopia! I wanted to Honor the amazing creations and work of Apple Fall. ((Most of the Items are Gacha's))

 

Apple Fall Items:

 

Apple Fall Antique Daybed ((Gacha Show Gift-May 2015))

Privacy Fencing

Victoria's Armoire

Daffodils Jug

An Lar Ladder

An Lar Toile Chair (Cream)

New Arrival Painting

Leather Beanbag (Tiffany) ((Non-Gacha))

BREEZE Curtains ((Non-Gacha))

Pillow (Script)

Pillow (Horse Riding)

Scented Candle (Apple)

Scented Candle (Jasmine)

Teacup Rose

Treats Platter RARE

Reading Pile

Sketchbook

Frame Shelf

Retro Radio

Carriage Clock

Blanket Curio

Monogram Luggage Bag

Poppies / Glazed Vase

Hat Box

Dress Form

Lustful Lilacs

Apple Line

Gilt Frame (Landscape)

Fabrique-Rug ((Non-Gacha))

Tribal Print Rug ((Non-Gacha))

 

Apple Fall Skybox Used:

Old Mayfair Skybox RARE

 

www.gimmegacha.com/wp/

A beautiful flower with a wonderful scent.

 

Thank you to Plantaholic Sheila for the ID. Although she said that the scent reminded her of cat pee!! .

 

Better viewed large and thank you for your favourites.

So, I'm thinking of giving blogging a try, here's a quick photo coz I got bored. If you wanna know where the stuff is from I'm wearing, I'ma tell you, brb whilst I tab back into SL and get the details.

  

Okay back.. here's the info:

 

Hair: Dura B126 @ Access

Top: Archive Faction - Polar Vest.

Tie: Archive Faction

Gloves: Ascend Men's Punk Bento Gloves

Nails: = DAE =

 

Layers:

 

Nose Bandage: [Post Mortem]

Nose Bleed: RZ EVOX Nosebleed

Tattoo: Dappa Diobolos Tattoo

 

I'm also wearing pants from Cordewa but my dumb ass forgot to take a full body shot. UwU.

myhealingmoments.blogspot.com.es/2012/04/day-188.html

 

Annotation: I´m developing a 365 project which includes not only a daily photo, but also a daily post in my blog. This is the number 188. If you want to see all the photos: www.flickr.com/photos/healingmoments/sets/72157627759889118/

OK, here is the Tiny True Story. I was given a whole box full of seeds, new packages of all kinds, vegetables, flowers, etc. There are some beautiful packages in the box, some very plain, but some with lovely artwork illustrating what the seeds will grow. The catch is that they just about all expired in 2019.

 

My plan was to post some colorful pictures of some of the seed packets or of the mass amount in the whole box, or whatever. I wanted to do that partly for the fun and art of doing so, and partly to illustrate a question I planned to pose to my Flickr friends who have experience gardening. I was hoping someone could advise me whether there is any point at all in planting expired seeds. Would none grow at all, or would it be likely a percentage of them would grow? If so, approximately what percent?

 

Armed with that information. I planned to pick out three or so geographically close friends to give a bunch of seeds to. I have no place to even plant very many at all, but some of my friends have acreage.

 

I was outside, moving the seeds in the huge box all around for different photo ideas. I took a lot of shots, some horizontal, some vertical. It was kind of fun, but it was hot out, and I was getting to the point where I just wanted to be done. I wanted to go inside and decide which pictures I just took would work nicely with some painterly techniques, cropping, etc. and which ones I should toss. I sat on my bench, and grabbed a handful of seed packages out of the box, to look them over more closely. That handful of the packages slipped into my lap!

 

I began trying different angles and amounts of macro, or not, to finish up. They kept slipping around my short pants. My shorts have a rather wild (but kind of cool) free-form lines and circles in very bright colors on a plain black background. The nicer I tried to get shots of the seed packages in my lap, the hotter the weather got, and the more slick the packages got. I kept getting snippets of the bright colors of my short pants in my compositions. I really didn't like that, and didn't want it. Artistic composition wise, they just didn't seem to fit. I didn't have in mind anything in my photos but the seed packages. Even though I was clothed, it was a little weird to have half a dozen seed packages slipping down between my thighs. It was uncomfortable and - "I" didn't make for great composition. It was cumbersome to compose any shots at all. Finally, I decided that instead of fighting the competing colors and angles on my shorts with those of the seed packages, just to go with the flow and maybe make some intriguing photos that had nothing to do with whether expired seeds would grow, or how I got the wild colored lines mixed in with my compositions of seeds. Just art, for no other reasons.

 

So there you have it. THE END

 

For Dave C., the *soul* of this picture is that I put my heart and soul into accepting really strange and uncomfortable angles for my seed pictures, and got this painterly look art that I think is awesome.

 

"DSCN2596Oil15TUalotCoolMostOilofAllDUPEDtoFoolwiththenBordInitFlickr060520"

 

*********************************************************************

For ABCs and 123s" "I" is for "Intriguing" use of different colored and shaped items to make "Interesting" Art.

Traditional Aztec war dance performance

Any given Sunday

Plaza de La Replica, Monumento a la Revolucion

Mexico City

 

If you Like this photo please visit my album "Street Performers"

 

www.flickr.com/photos/luajr/albums/72157644701698786/

 

Or: "Mexico Historia y Tradición"

www.flickr.com/photos/luajr/albums/72157632745111611/

 

Or: "Any Given Sunday in Mexico City"

 

www.flickr.com/photos/luajr/albums/72157638501177336/

 

Or: "Street Shot"

www.flickr.com/photos/luajr/albums/72177720295921392

 

A cruz Azul (a national soccer team) fan

 

People in Mexico city love to come out and enjoy there city and every sundry you can se people all over the public spaces of the city parks streets and special on Paseo de la Reforma every Sunday it is close to traffic so that people can ride there bikes walk or just take a nice stroll true one of the most beautiful avenues of the world. I have found my self fascinated by this and I can never stop photographing it.

 

You can se more of this photos in my album "Any given Sunday in Mexico city"

OK, so Happy Friday everyone!! Pardon me, but I'm still on a bit of a high regarding the reprieve given to the Florida black bears in 2016. :-) Big time thanks to everyone who made their voices heard.

 

So, this week the blog (www.tnwaphotography.wordpress.com) has been focused on the wildlife and landscapes of the Tetons in the winter. No, I'm not talking about over at the ski resort ... LOL ... but rather that of nature of course.

 

While my eyes generally seek out the larger mammals, they also look for birds, especially those that I'm not privy to in South Florida. This day was different.

 

There were a bunch of trumpeter swans hanging out in the river together, so that's what prompted my snow walk. As I was photographing the swans, I noticed that there were some mallards congregating in there as well. I was using my new (at the time) Nikon 200-500mm lens for the first time on this trip. All of a sudden this male mallard gave the usual signs that he was about to take flight. My lens struggled a bit to find the right focus as it pranced across the waters surface, but locked in as it took flight. I was amazed at how it all of a sudden, in the nick of time I might add, locked focus. I think that for a first time bird flight shot with the lens, it did fine.

 

So with this image, I wish everyone a wonderful Friday! Spread your wings and take off to wonderful adventures wherever that might be.

 

Thanks for stopping by to view and especially for sharing any thoughts and comments that you might have.

 

© 2016 Debbie Tubridy / TNWA Photography

 

www.tnwaphotography.wordpress.com

www.tnwaphotography.com

************************

This is a link to a You Tube Video of a thief not unlike our Angie.

youtu.be/HAZdjhNVjxk

 

************************

 

Case Study 113 : Warning, these are the raw, bare unusual occurrences as originally chronicled. Some names, times, places and some facts have been, of course, altered.

Name: Angelica D circa 192__

Subject: an unscrupulous light-fingered body thief

Event: Posh Wedding Reception

Place: Upstate New York

Time: Warm early Autumn Saturday

 

Angie Being Receptive

Story line:

 

Angie had heard about the affair, a wedding, from a list of prospective functions provided by a discreetly paid contact. It was being given for the only daughter of a wealthy politician (as if there were any non-wealthy ones!) Angie had happily invited herself to the affair, carefully dressing up in her best for the special occasion!

 

**

Wedding receptions were by far Angie’s favorite hunting grounds. During the season there could be anywhere from upwards of 20 high end affaires every weekend in the bigger cities, and always 2 or 3 in even the smallest of towns.

Wedding s were usually easy pickings: free food, drink and entertainment, and seldom worn jewelry made for a ready-made mix for Angie to ply her trade. For Angelica D. was a uniquely skilled pickpocket, specializing in the removal for profit of the expensive jewelry worn by the (usually be -gowned) women and young ladies’ who hauntingly dwelt in societies upper crust!

So Weddings, by their nature, were the desirable choice for Angie. One only had to avoid the Bride, her Bridesmaids, and their court, which were usually the major focus of any security present. However, there were plenty of opportunities to be had by employing her special bag of tricks on the outlaying fringe.

Angie had arrived early at the mammoth facility, to scout out the establishment and to scope out who was wearing what. Used to these affairs either being feast or famine, she could quickly tell that in this one there was cooking up a devouring banquet.

**

After Angie had entered the massive reception room it did not take her long to spy her first plump prospect, nicely loaded with possibilities. It was a lady, bearing a haughty look, who had been making a b-line through the crowd as way was parted for her. She was wearing a luxuriously long rusty coloured sable fur coat that hid most of her long crimson -red satin gown. What Jewels were visible, ears, fingers and wrist, were all flashing with pricy fire. In tow she held the hand of a young girl, obviously her daughter, wearing actual makeup, which, along with her fetching gown and brite jewelry, made her appear far older than she was. A handsome man , looking like the actor William Powell in a tux, followed behind the pair, husband and father, Angie presumed. She shadowed the little family as they swished their way to a corner table, conveniently located by a rear exit, for a better look over. Her fingers had started with an all too familiar tingle as she took it all in.

**

The husband helped his wife out of the sable, laying it carefully along a bench against the wall. Angie was not disappointed. A silver necklace of large matched diamonds gracefully encircled her throat. A dazzling blood ruby and diamond brooch held up the center of her gown, positioned just below the bust line. Brooches, like this one, were worth a lot once fenced, but its placement required a little more dexterity and skill than she was willing to risk. In actuality, Angie had only attempted twice before to take a brooch pinned to a gown in this fashion. She had only been successful one of those times, only to find out it was a pretty piece of paste.( Years later, as Angie’s talents became more polished, relieving ladies of their dangling brooches, like this blood ruby, became her specialty.. the Eds.) Angie’s eyes moved on. The rest of the snooty lady’s jewels matched her necklace. Long earrings, free clipped, dangling brightly from her earlobe s. A pair of wide ruby bracelets clasped tightly home around elegant red elbow length satin gloves, sparkled devastatingly, matching her brooch. Her long fingers were home to a pair of ruby and diamond rings and a third ring set with a gold band and a vulgarly large solitaire diamond.

**

Angie’s attention turned to the daughter, whom had been helped by her Father , squirming, from the chocolate coloured satin cape that she had been wearing. The youngster, all of about 10, was wearing a cream coloured long puffy sleeved dress with a brown satin sash encircling her waist that matched her Cape. The young lady possessed impossible large bright eyes. The only thing that held more shine than those doe like eyes had been the antique rhinestone diamond necklace that fell dripping ever so invitingly down the front of the precious little imp’s rich glossy gown. The rest of her matching rhinestones (obviously belonging to the child’s mother) consisted of an engaging display of a bracelet, pair of dangling, screwed on clasp earrings, and matching rings encircling a chubby finger one on each hand. It all gleamed brightly, invitingly from her svelte girlish figure. A large round pin held her sash up in place; it sparkled with what looked like a ring consisting of one caret diamonds, as unlikely as it was they could be real.

**

The two females of the family presented a pretty package indeed. Not one to pass up an invite that alluring, Angie walked by , with the pretext of heading to a back exit behind the table the little family had staked, just so she could get a closer peek.

**

Angie’s practiced eye took in a wealth of information during the few seconds it took her to walk up and pass the group, so involved with themselves they never even looked her way. Her attention focused upon the young mother first scoping head to toe.

**

Angie scrutinized the brooch; it was definitely worth the effort. In her mind’s eye, Angie envisioned the mother as a stumbling drunk “bumping into” Angie. Fingers whisking along the slippery lustrously softness of the gown, as the lady was steadied. Angie would accept the women apologies and the pair would part their ways, Angie from the young mother, and the magnificent brooch from the rich satiny red gown. But then the mother raised her head, looking up past Angie, towards a commotion being made behind her. Typical Angie thought, she doesn’t recognize me, so I don’t exist, like some sort of servant. But it was as she caught the young mother in full profile that she realized this lady looked strikingly similar to another woman who had been wearing an expensive dress of teal charmeuse that Angie had had been having a long conversation with, while relieving the woman’s finger of a costly diamond sapphire ring. It had happened only just last weekend at a formal function, and Angie figured she may have not recognized her in passing, but may if Angie were to use one of her approaches again with the intent of taking some of her jewelry, he memory may be jarred, and she may remember her missing ring. This was why Angie only allowed herself to ply her trade for no more than a month in any given place per year. This was from a lesson she had learned early on in her career. And so, for that reason alone, Angie decided to, at least temporarily, abandon any designs she had on the young mother’s brooch, allowing her devious intentions to evaporate from her mind like smoke on the wind. There were plenty more fish in the sea she told herself.

**

Angie still allowed herself a quick appraisal of the squirming 10 year old. She admired the glossy dress of slippery satin that her mother had conveniently dressed her daughter up in, as it fell spilling down to her black open toed shoes. Angie’s fingers started to tingle; this was a perfect tickling gown. Angie liked to think of any long dress or gown that swept down to a females heels as a” tickling gown”. All it took was a strategically placed foot timed with a well place nudge to send the chosen victim tumbling. During the ensuing diversion, Angie would use her long subtle fingers to swiftly probe along the gowned figure, tickling she like to call it due to the tingling sensation of the usually rich material of the victim’s attire. In this fashion, a pre-targeted piece of valuable jewelry could then be easily acquired, no matter what its placement had been on the unfortunate female. If only the chatty youngster had something on better than rhinestones. It was a crying shame to have a child that young dolled up like an adult, but not wearing adult jewels.

**

Angie continued to walk past, unseen, and went out the door. She found herself in a large serenity garden of roses and shrubs, surrounded by a 10 foot high well-trimmed hedge. The sort of garden one usually found in those days around upscale Churches. The only exit was a gate leading onto the parking lot on the side of the church. Here was positioned a solitary, lonely guard in a neat little guard hut. In the opposite, far corner was a statue of Cupid, arrow drawn, standing above a display of blooming moss roses at the end opposite to the gate. There was always potential in places like these.

**

Angie had started to walk over to the Cupid statue when she heard the exit door open. Turning, she saw the young girl, whose mother’s brooch Angie had been scoping out, looking out the door. She snuck through, running out alone, silky tickling gown swishing out behind her. Her heart leapt to her throat as she watched the girls rhinestones sparkle radiantly. She actually turned to head towards the path the unsuspecting child was running up, flexing her fingers as she contemplating a little warm up practice. Angie watched as the dolled up imps necklace flashed with pinpricks of coloure as it bounced to and fro as she ran happily up the path .Angie turned her back to the girl, waiting to hear the telltale click of her heels come up just behind her. She would then move, bumping into the girl as she passed, tripping her to the ground. After which Angie would help her up, removing the girl’s fancy necklace in the process. Come to Mama Angie whispered under her breath, waiting to make her move as the skipping heels grew ever louder.

**

But then Angie froze, hearing the clicking of the exit door again opening behind her. She checked her stride letting the daughter slither past without a glance. She headed again towards the statue, watching her prize move on ahead. Then she heard the father in the background calling out to his little princess. The youngster turned, and ran back, beaming at Angie as she passed. Angie smiled back, her eyes again traveling to the girls neckline, and the sparkling jewelry the outlined her throat. It had been a silly thought she chided herself, as the girl passed from view. If only the necklace had been real, and the father about ten minutes later in discovering his daughter absence. It would have been an unbelievably easy pluck and she could be out the gate before anyone was the wiser. And the best part was that they would probably believe the scampering girl had just lost it in the garden. And, while the parents were looking about, Angie would have been free to renter to ply her trade again. As it was, it was silly of Angie, risking her opportunity on a child’s bauble worth a mere pittance compared to some of the other offerings so readily being flaunted this evening by her adult counterparts.

**

Angie continued her casual stroll through the Garden, happily playing over in her mind some of the jewels that she would like to see adorning the female guests inside, and the scenarios she may be using to acquire them

**

Finding herself approaching the guard hut, she allowed herself a glance back. Jealously she watched the father, who had caught and was carrying his slippery attired daughter, heading back inside. How Angie wished she had been the one carrying the squirming little imp, it would have been like a smorgasbord, with jewels instead of food. Pity her mother had not put the good stuff on the daughter, she sighed to herself. Tonight she would have to work for her butter. She walked past the bored guard, nodding at him, receiving a rather lecherous look in return. A smile was forming across her cunning face, for now it was time to get down to the real business at hand.

**

The affair turned out to be quite a showcase for the very rich. Who were indiscreetly flaunting their riches, trying to outdo one another, probably for the benefit of the politicians’ attention? Certainly not for the attention of the designer satin gowned and flashy diamonded daughter, whom most of the guests hardly knew, or had ever met.

**

Angie always felt like a little kid in a candy shoppe at these lavish affairs.

She spent the first part of the reception mingling and thoroughly enjoying the show her the reception’s guests were u wittingly putting on. Angie, wearing no jewels herself, was something of an anomaly compared to her fellow guests.

**

There were over a thousand luxuriously coloured, squawking female birds and their young chicks pompously displaying valuable finery, oblivious of the cat amongst them waiting to pounce. Angie patently mingled, watching as the adult guests had their fill of food and drink.

Once their guard began to relax, Angie raised hers’, her probingly skillful fingers now more than prepared to begin and ply her trade. For the more they imbibed, the less guarded they were, both about themselves and their female offspring. Angie would start with the adults, 2 or 3 of the right pieces of jewelry, once acquired, and would mean she could call it a night and have enough to support her for a solid month. If she came up empty in that department, her back up would then center on the female off-spring, daughters and nieces.

Most of said offspring would be by then scattered about, aware that their parents were no longer paying them any heed, exploring and playing, sporting their fancy satin gowns, silken dresses, and their dainty jewelry, ripe for the picking. Giving pickpockets like Angie endless opportunity to ply their trade on them, once they had finished working through the adults. Or if the thieves were beginners, plenty of easy practice while “learning the ropes!”

**

Now, when Angie herself was just starting out as a young pickpocket, she stumbled across a treatise written by a man using the pseudonym “Gaston Monescu”. Written around 1826, entitled the Cutpurse: skilles, artes and Secretes of the Dip, it covered the various tactics and moves used by master pickpockets.

 

Angie had studied it religiously, especially a ploy called the “Necklace Flimp.” This tactic was primarily used for body thieves working alone. Angie had been surprised to learn that a pickpocket could raise his/her skill level above just acquiring wallets. Having the ability to lift a woman’s necklace amazed her, not to mention the profit that could be realized. With practice, Angie had found that not only was it a good technique for acquiring necklaces, but it worked for other pieces of worn jewelry as well.

 

It was relatively simple process, but took a long time to master.

First part was to employ psychology and watch the potential victim for the unique movements and quirks in their personality and actions that could provide an opportunity for her skills. Then observe the selected piece the victim wore, for value, type of clasp, make, and accessibility. The second part was to employ a bump, slip, or grasp, and in one motion, flick open the studied clasp and send the piece away from the body by either pulling and palming, or dropping it to the floor or ground for retrieval later. If she was noticed, it was “sorry, miss, very clumsy of me” “here let me get if for you, no harm done?” Then walk away and let the waters settle before trying yet again (sometimes even on the same person!)

 

Angie had practiced the jewelry flimp until she had the technique totally mastered. Starting out first on specially dressed up mannequins in her apartment, than trying it on small pieces of cheap baubles worn by real women in crowded streets and stores. Then on younger, less guarded, better jewelry wearing young girls attending proms and social dances. Young looking for her age at the time, Angie had fit right in amongst them. Then, finally, she graduated to lifting the better jewels of the older, wealthy women attending society’s finer parties and receptions. And it was this path that led her here today, and would also lead several unlucky females to report missing jewelry to their respective insurance companies.

**

See Album “Angie having a Ball” for additional background on our master thief with the light fingers.

**

Angie now eagerly employed those useful talents learned from monsieur Monescu’s little pamphlet at the wedding reception. She mingled freely, carrying around a drink that never touched her lips. She watched and learned, her trained eyes missing very little. Soon, like that hypothetical kid in a candy shoppe, Angie’s head was spinning from so much to choose from that she really could not make any easy choice. So, she waited and watched patiently, knowing opportunity would knock.

 

**

 

Then, like it usually happened with Angie, the first genuine opportunity unexpectedly presented herself. Angie literally was run into a rather awkward, spindly lady in thick glasses clad in a fetchingly expensive costume consisting of a thick silver satin blouse with hanging ruffles down its front, combined with a long rustling tiered skirt that swept down to the top of her open toed silver high heels. Her diamond jewelry shone with exuberant flames as they caught the light from the many chandeliers that hung from the vaulted ceiling. The lady expressed frantically her apologies, placing a hand with well ringed fingers on Angie’s shoulder, where they sparkled merrily. No worries Angie said smiling, her eyes taking it all in without appearing to move. She let the frazzled lady leave, allowing her a head start, it was only sporting to do so.

**

Angie shadowed her quarry for a while, seemingly rewarded for her efforts when the lady managed to spill a bit of her drink down on her skirt. In a show of flashing silvery satin and diamonds ,she retreated and disappeared into a nearby powder room, with Angie following eagerly, opportunity knocking.

**

As Angie grabbed onto the closing powder room door, a mid- twenty something girl in a deep green velvet gown came out. Her only jewelry was a wide diamond bracelet wrapped around a wrist of the matching long green gloves she wore. Angie caught it out of the corner of her eye, realizing that it was as expensive as it was bright. But it was her friend, a willowy short haired pretty young thing in a glamorous Chocolate Satin gown that made Angie’s jaw drop. Her jewels, like her friends, were also sparse, but enormously pricy. The long white satin gloves that graced her hands and arms also held matching bracelets, thin, but each one worth the effort. But her real eye catcher was the row of authentic, one caret white diamonds that were rippling exquisite fire along her throat. Angie held the door for them, nodding to as they passed. Noses in the air, they did not appear to notice Angie. Then, with the ladies backs to her, Angie abandoned Miss silver satin and turned to follow. Angie got in behind the two with the intention of getting a closure examination of the clasp of the fiery diamond necklace Miss Chocolate satin was wearing.

**

However, Angie never got her closer look. For at that moment the tossing of the bride’s boutique was announced and Angie was overwhelmed by a mad dash of single ladies heading for the bride. On a lark she allowed herself to be swept along, losing sight of Miss Chocolate satin, but found herself right smack behind Miss Green velvet and her cheerfully sparkling diamond bracelet, a beautifully expensive piece that would have cost someone a king’s ransom. Angie’s fingers began their all too familiar tingling, eager for a chance to acquire jewelry that valuable, but not for any king, just for herself!

**

Though the night was still relatively early, and Angie still had visions of those exquisite rippling diamonds of the pretty Miss in chocolate satin on her mind, she simply could not pass up this opportunity. Angie wedged herself close behind her chosen victim as the multitude of hopeful young women pressed forward to try their luck. As the Bride teased her guests before getting ready to toss her bouquet of white and red roses, Angie expertly scrutinized the bracelet as it dangled from the green velvet glove. When the bride finally turned her back and raised her arms every one of the richly clad single women’s eyes was focused on the bride’s bouquet, Angie’s eyes were fixated on the bracelet. With the music playing loud, the crowd giggling and laughing, and all eyes focused on the gorgeously outfitted young long haired bride, Angie again felt opportunity knocking. Her pulse beating in rhythm with the music, she made ready to seize the chance when it presented itself. The roses flew through the air and all the women raised their hands high, looking all for the world like being involved in a stick-up. Angie timed it perfectly, snapping the clasp, and snatching the bracelet easily away from the gloved wrist of its owner as she raised her arms high to grab at the boutique. In her excitement, shared by everyone, Miss Green velvet ( who did not catch the bouget of roses) never felt a thing. Angie had smirked as she left the giggling group, stowing securely the purloined diamonds, as she imagined what it would have been like to watch that group robbed in a mass stick-up. The money that some enterprising soul could have made from that haul would have been astronomical.

**

She went to the open bar, lighting her first cigarette; she ordered her first real drink of the night. She could feel the coolness of the weighty bracelet in its hiding spot, and Angie, pleased with herself, calmly sipped her drink as she relished in the moment. The toss of the Brides Boutique was, in Angie’s experienced opinion, one of the three common events occurring during a wedding reception that were fertilely prime times for pickpocketing. (Editor’s note.. Miss D. mysteriously never divulged what she considered the other two prime events to be….)

**

She looked about without a worry in the world, coolly watching the antics of some of the younger women on the dance floor. She spied the young miss in the green velvet gown over in a corner talking in an animated fashion with several other women. Green velvet gown’s now bare velvet glove, apparently not noticed by anyone but Angie. One of her group was displaying some bright emeralds peeking through the long silver fur she was wearing, obviously she was leaving, and she was talking excitedly about something to the group formed around her! Nowhere in sight was Miss chocolate satin, too bad, Angie would have loved another peek before leaving.

Angie watched around the room causally, as the cold bracelet pressed expensively against her figure from its hiding spot. She eventually lost track of green velvet and her friends while finishing her drink. Setting down the empty glass, she decided it was time to call it a night. The bracelet now in her possession was easily worth as much as the 2 or 3 separate pieces she usually acquired at functions like these, added together! And, she needed her rest, Angie had a couple of plans the next day, one revolving around the female guests who would be attending an upscale afternoon prom fashion show a, the other, an evening opera performance (invited guests only, and her contact had managed to supply a ticket, at a hefty price!) No rest for the wicked, Angie told herself.

**

On her way out of the main lobby, she found herself leaving behind the very lady in green velvet whose bracelet was now in Angie’s possession. She was with the same gaggle of her similarly dressed friends, including the one exhibiting the emeralds. However, miss chocolate satin was still not visible. They were laughing and joking as they collected their assorted pretty wraps, obviously heading for a nightclub. If she had not already relieved one of them of a bauble, Angie might have invited herself along, if only to have a go at some emeralds. Angie hesitated about leaving withy them, then shrugged, followed the group out the door past the pair of bored rent a cops.

**

She remembered thinking, as she followed the elegant young princesses ,their fluid gowns peeking from under their various furs and wraps, how shallow the very rich could be. She wondered if Miss Green velvets friends had even noticed that she had had diamonds around the wrist of her glove, let alone that they were now missing. She wondered how long it would be before the bracelets loss was discovered. She figured it would be several hours, long enough for its owner not to be sure what place they had been lost. As young Miss Green velvet fancy gown and her friends turned right outside the exit, Angie turned left, heading towards the guard hut at the entrance to the garden.

She decided not to follow them but rather circle around the outside of the garden to give her victim time to leave.

**

That simple decision to make a left turn proved to be a major turning point in Angie’s fortunes that evening.

**

As Angie passed the hut guarding the entrance to the serenity garden, she noticed it was deserted.

It was as she was looking it over, that she heard the sounds of clicking heels moving fast, followed by the sounds of a young girl giggling. On the alert she stole to the backside of the hut, soon spying a splash of something blue and silky between the gaps of a couple of large bushes. Her senses on their highest peak, she began to move cautiously in, hoping the female making the noise would be in need of aid and comfort perhaps.

**

She soon spotted a young lady of about 14 bending over, hands on her knees as she panted heavily. Her back was to Angie, and what pretty back it was. She was nicely attired in a long gown of shiny material dyed deep blue like an afternoon, cloudless summer sky. The gown cascaded down along her petite figure, spilling out on the ground around her feet. Her hair was pulled back, easily displaying a pair of small diamond and sapphire earrings, not rhinestones for this one, but the real McCoy. Around one finger was a gold ring with sapphires, and from her left wrist dangled a thin silver bracelet with a row of diamond chips, both pretty, both valuably real. But it was her last piece of visible jewelry that stole the show. It hung, swinging to and from her neck on a thick braided chain of solid silver. On its end, like a hypnotists prism, was a silver pendent in the shape of a flower, with 1 inch long, pear shaped real diamonds as petals and a fully 2 inch in circumference center stone of deep sea blue. Angie watched it, her eyes following it for a full minute, its expensive fire sealing its own fate as Angie began flexing her fingers. Angie took her eyes off of it and looked around to see why the princess had been running. But all was still as the girl continued to peek through the branches towards the back door leading into the hall. Angie silently approached, and walking up to the pretty miss she bent down and in a friendly tone, asked who she was running from.

**

I played a joke on my sister, and now I’m hiding from her, piped the girl breathlessly, as Angie placed a hand upon the girls shoulder in a conspiratorial fashion, said shoulder made silky soft by the gowns half sleeve.

**

I know a better place where you can hide from her, Angie whispered in the girl’s ear, the dangling earring ever so close to her lips. The girl looked up, smiling, and Angie pointed towards the guard hut, and as the girl looked, Angie’s fingers glided up along the silky shoulder and lifted the thick silver chain up from the back of the gowns’ scooped collar. Come Angie said, and as the girl rose Angie’s fingers nimbly flicked open the chains’ lobster clasp, holding onto the clasp as the other end of the chain slipped down, allowing the pendent to slide free and fall onto the grass at the girls feet, where it lay shimmering. Angie moved her hand to the girls shoulder, squeezing it, while slipping off the braided silver chain with her other hand, whisking it back and away from the guileless young girl. Angie led her princess away from the spot and walked with her to the guard’s hut, still empty, where she had her hide neath the counter.

**

Angie turned and went back to claim the pendent, there still was no sign of any sister. She secured the pendent, joining it with the chain and bracelet, and headed deeper into garden. Her plan was to watch the hut and see which way the girl went after getting bored waiting. But as she skirted the perimeter her plans were changed when, upon rounding a corner of the path at the far end, she saw yet another back belonging to a solitary lady in her late thirties, clad in a long slinky yellow coloured gown of expensively shiny taffeta, bending over to smell the yellow roses on a bush. Instinctively Angie knew two things about her. One was that whatever jewels this lady would be wearing, they would be expensive, and the other was that with an expensive gown like that; the lady would undoubtedly be wearing her jewels. Angie suddenly became aware that her fingers were tingling, as an all too familiar whelming feeling again delightfully washed over her.

**

Angie found herself automatically turning back onto the garden path. She headed around the women and went down to the cupid’s statue, where now out of sight, she carefully hid the purloined bracelet, and still warm fiery pendent and its ‘fancy silvery braided chain..

**

She then headed towards the unsuspecting flower admirer. The ladies’ long brunette hair had fallen, flowing down the backside of her shiny taffeta gown. Angie could see rings and a bracelet gleaming as she was holding up the rose to her face. A long double rope of pearls hung swaying deliciously from her throat. Coming up behind her Angie stood watching; calculating until the lady rose and with a start realized she was not alone.

**

Pretty Angie said, her eyes on the pearls now draping down the front of her marks yellow gown. They are lovely, are they not? The damsel responded thinking Angie was referring to the roses. Just like the ones in the park, my husband and I walked through on our way to catch a cab today. Actually, I meant your dress Angie said complimentary. Thank you the lady practically squealed, I love the way it flows, and she swirled it about to show Angie, who got an eyeful of sparkly jewelry for her efforts. As she continued engaging the women in conversation, Angie decided upon attempting for the woman’s necklace of pearl. Seeing opportunity knocking when Yellow Taffeta pulled her long hair forward so it hang down the front of her gorgeous gown, laying silkily over one shoulder, nicely exposing the pricy necklaces clasp. Angie looked around, they were alone, out of site of the opposite end of the garden where the inside door was, and the guards hut with it’s pretty occupant.

**

Angie, using the marks interest in roses to her advantage, managed to steer the capricious damsel in shiny yellow over to the cupid’s statue. There, she placed a hand upon a silky taffeta covered shoulder, and pointed down to the shrub of moss roses growing at the foot of the statue . When she stooped down to get a closer look, Angie’s fingers whisked from her marks shoulder to the clasp, in a single effort with two fingers, lifted it by the clasp, and snapped it open. At that moment the mark cried “spider” and jumped up, backing into Angie, who watched helplessly as the pearls fell down from the damsel’s throat and slipped along the front of the yellow taffeta gown. They fell with a soft plop unto the ground at their mistress’s feet. Angie tried to lead her away, hoping to come back and reclaim the necklace. But as Angie pointed to another rose bush some distance away, the lady took a step forward, instead of back, planting her feet right onto the pearl necklace. Hey she exclaiming, what’s that, looking down to her high heeled foot? Oh, my pearls the lady squealed again, a glittering hand shooting to feel around her throat. Angie reached down, and reluctantly retrieved them from the base of the rose bush for the squealing lady in yellow . My husband would not have been pleased if I had lost these, she said as Angie held them, feeling their pricey smoothness.

**

She asked if Angie could help her put them on, my maid usually does this sort of thing, you know. Angie reluctantly complied, re- hanging the pearls as the pretty damsel held up her hair, and reluctantly redid the clasp. The Damsel thanked Angie by embracing her in a full hug, her diamond and pearl earring hitting Angie’s cheek. But Angie’s arms were being held by the hugging woman, so Angie was able to only watch the tantalizingly close earring sway free. Angie left yellow-gowned damsel in the garden, getting nothing for her efforts other than the feel of an expensive gown of the likes she could probably never afford to own.

**

With the pretty damsel hovering around the cupid statue, Angie decided to go back into the reception hall until the coast was clear. She carefully looked towards the Guards hut, and seeing that the guard had returned, figured the girl, so fetchingly clad in blue, had been rousted out, so that loose end was probably tied up. She just had to keep a careful eye out. The quite valuable bracelet and pricy necklace with its pendent were well hidden; there was absolutely no danger of someone stumbling over it.

**

Truth was, Angie had found her appetite wetted and once again visions of a lady in chocolate brown satin exhibiting a row of flashy diamonds, teased her thoughts. An accomplished pickpocket like herself had a couple of well-practiced ploys she could utilize to obtain a tight fitting necklace from its mistress. In addition, Angie was now determined to find her and to risk a try. She had really nothing to lose.

**

It took almost an hour of hunting amongst the now well liquored, gaily mingling crowd before Angie could admit to herself that there was absolutely no sign of the willowy lady in the stunning chocolate satin gown. Damn she thought to herself, those diamonds were something special. She shrugged it off, reciting in her mind a wicked little mantra of hers, “Another one who got away, a chance to lose her jewels to Angie on another day!” She strolled about pondering on what her next course of action could be. There had been no sign of the pretty girl in blue whose necklace Angie now had hidden away, and Miss Green Velvet was definitely out of the picture, so she felt that it was still safe to try to pluck one last bird or chick. In her hunt for the brown, Angie had seen several inviting prospects; one lady(purple satin, diamonds), two girls( ivory silk, pearled pin; red satin, gold necklace set with chips of precious stones), and now was weighing the risks.

 

It was at that point she once again espied the thickly bespectacled awkwardly introverted young lady invitingly wearing the thick silver satin ruffled blouse, which she had been tailing much earlier. And as Angie watched here, she again accepted the invitation. Her prey had appeared on the dance floor, being led around by a rather charming young man. That would make a dandy consolation prize Angie drooled to herself happily as she took in the sparkling show put on by the dancers jewels.

**

Angie looked her over, reacquainting herself with the jewels she so nicely was displaying. A pair of long earrings cascaded down from her earlobes where they precariously held on by antique silver claps. Angie relished the opportunity to “flimp” pairs of earrings like these. Heavily jeweled, each one was worth a tidy sum. Angie mulled this as she continued to study the jewels of her appealingly dressed new target.

**

The girl’s only ring was a solitaire diamond of at least 3 carets on a thick solid gold band worn vulnerably loose on her un-gloved, bare ring finger. A wide silver cuff bracelet with what appeared to be at least seven rows of matching, shimmering diamonds was dangling around her left wrist (she was right handed Angie observed) . The bracelet had a habit of lying over her sleeve, and Angie could see that it was a costly tiffany piece, whose clasp was exceptionally easy to flick open. A diamond pendent hung swinging from her satiny ruffles, held by an extravagantly thick silver chain with a simple , small eye in hook clasp. The Diamonds in the pendent were as shimmery as stars plucked from the night’s sky.

Angie remembered reading that in a poem from a book she had picked up years earlier in a library, while stalking a young mother in a satin dress, wearing an authentic Gruen Watch on one wrist, and a bracelet of diamonds on the other, that had gone into the library in pursuit of her young son running inside. Like that young mother, It was obvious that this lady in silver satin was not accustomed to wearing jewels, and that set probably spent most of their days lying in a safe. Angie licked her lips as she imagined what the other contents of that safe might look like

**

Angie moved in to allow herself a much closer appraisal of her potential victim’s jewels.

The young lady was totally oblivious to anything but the rather surprisingly strikingly handsome man who to all appearances was her Fiancée, who was holding her ever so close. But Angie was able to see enough of what she wanted to. The young Ladies’ thick satin blouse shone richly in the lights, moving like glistening wet liquid silver, while from her waist spilled the long black skirt with satiny tiers that swished and swayed nicely along her figure as she uneasily danced. Her jewels were bursting with colour as they played hide and seek with Angie’s watchful eyes. From all appearances, they were a mismatched couple. He seemed to know everyone and moved with a confident air, she was just the opposite. It made an enticingly intriguing package indeed for someone with Angie’s skills.

**

Silver Satin was the perfect “Gaston Monescu” type of mark, a perfect combination of classic mannerisms, clothing and Jewels worth anyone’s efforts to take. This was the only fly in the ointment that Angie observed. For by the bar she could see that two other sets of eyes were watching the same young lady in shiny satin and blazing diamonds. Angie intuitively knew they were drooling over acquiring jewels she was wearing.

**

She had noticed the pair of young men in loose fitting suits when they had entered a little earlier about the same time as Angie’s reappearance. They were obviously casing the jewels of any woman, young, or old, who walked past them. Angie knew their type, simple thieves, with no real skills outside of holding a knife in a dark alley to the throat of their victim while they unceremoniously searched and stripped them of their treasures. Angie saw that they were whispering amongst themselves and instinctively knew they were watching and waiting for the fetchingly clumsy silver clad lady clad loaded with diamonds, to leave the “establishment”.

**

She is mine Angie whispered, possessively snarling the words under her breath. She looked around as she thought about how best to handle the situation. Her eyes opened wide as she saw a familiar woman waiting by the coat checkroom. Perfect she purred, placing an unlit a cigarette in her mouth and heading over the bar.

**

She sauntered up next to them and ordered a drink, catching their eyes she asked for a light. As they obliged she took a pull and puffed out smoke, asking in a casual tone, “how about my jewels? Boys!” They could see perfectly well that she was not wearing any, and one snarled, “What’s your game, sister?” Angie snarled back in her best cop like manner, “We know what you boys are up to, and we suggest you both call it a night!” “Yer no cop sister”, they challenged, calling her bluff,” what’s your angle!” Angie calmly looked towards the entrance, perfect she mused as she saw their eyes follow hers, “Maybe not” she stated, “but see that lady being helped into the black mink?” “The shiny yellow dame?” one of em asked? “ “yes”, Angie replied taking a puff on her cigarette before going on, “ well that man’s she’s with used to be mine .” “ Now, I aint one to hold a grudge, but, those pearls she’s waltzing around with are worth plenty. And her rings, they are an easy two grand alone.”

**

Angie could tell she had captured their interest, and that they were now paying rapt attention to the lady in the thick yellow taffeta gown whose necklace Angie had almost acquired in the serenity garden. One of them looked at Angie, a suspicious look crossing his mug, “What’s innit for you sister?!” He demanded. Angie looked at him, dripping with sarcastic innocence. “Nothing brother, other than to make sure the jewels of the dame who stole my husband get home safely .” “I just worry,’ Angie went on, “there is a park in front of their residence and that dame in yellow likes to stroll through it to smell the roses after their cab drops them off.” They watched the couple leave, her expensive yellow gown sweeping provocatively at her gold high- heeled shoed feet. Angie looked them in the eyes and said smoothly, “ Gentlemen such as yourselves may want to do a good deed and follow them home to make sure some miscreant doesn’t spot her in those valuable jewels and mink. Not to mention her man’s gold watch and three hundred sawbucks in his wallet!” Angie winked at the pair, “If you catch my drift.” She added.

**

Still not totally convinced about what Angie was selling them, but equally unsure over who Angie was, both men got up and quickly headed towards the main exit as the last slip of an expensive yellow taffeta gown disappeared through the door. Smugly, Angie puffed on her cigarette as she watched them leave.

**

It was then that a hand was placed on Angie’s shoulder from behind.

**

She froze for a split second, before becoming aware of the soft mummer of satin, and of a slender finger was home to a sparkling sapphire ring. Angie smiled and turned around, facing the girl. Pardon me ma’am, she says politely, but do you remember me? Of course dear, Angie gushes while beaming at the forlorn looking miss in the fetching blue gown; I met you in the garden. Yes she confirms, but I lost my necklace somewhere and I was wondering if you remember if I had it on when we met? Angie’s heart leapt, bless this babe in the woods, thinking her necklace had merely been lost, never suspecting that someone like, say, Angie could have been the cause. She absolutely adored the trusting nature of rich girls this age. For that aspect of their purity had allowed Angie, far too easily sometimes, to lift many a jewel from well attired unsuspecting young princesses like this one. Who was now standing before her, miserable, her desirable diamond and sapphire earrings dangling ever so beckoningly, her sad puppy eyes pleading ever so sweetly, and her missing necklace closer than she could ever imagine.

**

No dear, I did not see you with a necklace, Angie lied coolly, as she reached out and stroked the girl tenderly alongside her face, her fingers touching one of the earrings. Angie was looking her fully in the eye, you didn’t lose anything else, and did you dear she asked with a concerned tone. The girl checked her earrings, bracelet and ring (Angie smiled to herself, silently thinking thanks for the info kid!) But when she spoke, it was with hopeful words laced with honey, If you want, I can help you look, my dear. The girl’s eyes lit up for a second, thank you ma’am, I wanted to, but papa said to wait until tomorrow when the light is better.

Angie smiled winningly, don’t worry dear, I’m sure its somewhere in the garden. Someone will find it, she promised, thinking to herself maliciously, and keep it for their own profit!

**

Thank you Ma’am she chirped, at the encouraging words that had been spoken, luckily she could not hear the ones Angie was thinking to herself, and turning moved off, her scrumptious gown swishing pleasantly around her silver heels. Angie watched, as the girl disappeared in the crowd Angie marked her direction.

**

Angie Imagined if the girl had accepted her offer, and she had left with the vulnerable, unguarded princess to search in the garden, and in the process help relieve her of her remaining jewels. There would be enough light with the gas lamps that lined the paths in the garden. Enough light, so that as Angie helped the princess look, her fingers could slip ever so delicately slip in and search along her shiny sky blue gown.

**

Angie licked her lips slowly as she fantasied about the search. The girl bending down to look under a bush, Angie placing her knee sharply in a certain spot below the girl’s armpit, temporarily numbing her upper body. Allowing Angie enough time to pull off both her earrings without feeling it,( this also worked well on working off broaches placed in upper parts of gowns and dresses, not to mention necklaces!) The bracelet would be no problem; it would be the easiest and probably the first, snatched off while the rich girl’s attention was easily diverted away. Since she was not wearing silky gloves, her ring would be the trickiest, but manageable, by either having her walk too close to a water fountain and hopefully having her get her fingers wet, or by simple holding onto her hand and tripping her by stepping on her gowns hem. And just like that, Angie would become that much richer, the rich girl that much poorer. And it all would be done without giving the girl any additional stress, like say she had run into the two muggers Angie had chased off. They may not have been content with just the jewels of a girl dressed as she was that they had found wandering alone in the gardens at night.

**

As Angie excitedly thought about these things, she had trained her focus back upon her original meal ticket, whom for the second time that evening had almost been allowed to slip through Angie’s light fingers. Watching with half lidded eyes, the still dancing couple not unlike a wolf watches lambs, waiting for one to make an ill-fated move away from the flock. The lamb’s fate was sealed, when a vivacious blonde in a long wispy silken dress cut in on the dancing couple. Asking miss silver satin’s fiancé for a dance. He obliged, leaving his shimmering fiancée unaccompanied, nakedly exposed to the wolf that was Angie.

**

More than one way to skin a cat Angie thought, tingling from the thrill of the hunt her prey, now in a reachable situation. She happily headed towards the spot where Miss silver satin had moved off to. A small table, located conveniently by a powder room. One the way she grabbed a half full glass of red wine off a table. Angie circled around young miss silver satin, taking a position up about two table lengths behind her. She casually scoured the area; most of the nearby tables were deserted.

Knowing the band would stop playing soon for the evening; most of the couples were out on the dance floor. All in all, the situation presented the perfect opportunity for some one of Angie’s persuasion.

**

Angie watched as the young lady picked up a glittery silver clutch and opening it, started to search inside. Angie moved swiftly, catching up behind her , tripping intentionally into her, splashing some wine onto the front of the silver satin blouse as the unfortunate lady dropped her purse in surprise. Oh my gosh, I did not see you, miss silver satin pleaded apologetically to Angie, more concerned over Angie’s feelings than her soiled satin blouse. Angie accepted her apology and, producing a lacey silk handkerchief, began to wipe themselves both down.

Angie’s practiced eyes swiftly took it all in. Miss silver satin’s pretty earrings swaying out vulnerably from her long straggly hair as it fell into her face. The clasp of her necklace was also exposed and within easy grasp. A s she reached out for the floor to steady herself, Angie’s eyes took in the sparkling ring on her now wetted finger and then watched the wide bracelet with its’ easily open able clasp slip up glitteringly over her sleeve.

The girl, now thoroughly flustered, started to rise, tripping over her slippery long skirt( with no help from Angie) Angie caught her, taking advantage of the split second opening she had been waiting for and Angie took it, making her selection as she steadied the poor thing with one hand, as the other caressed along a slick silver satin back. Angie’s long supple fingers darted in and deftly did their trick, this time with no spiders interfering. She quickly removed her chosen glittery prize from the distracted lady, who never noticed so much as a prick as Angie removed the expensive piece from her person in the confusion.

**

Angie secreted he shiny jewel as she helped miss silver satin collect herself. Than they rose, and Angie happily accepted miss silver satin profuse and obviously well used, apology. Then, as she fumbled nervously with her thick glasses, Angie laid a calming hand upon her shoulder, her fingers relishing in the richness of her victims sleek ruffled blouse. Miss silver satin was by now so distracted and embarrassed that Angie was all but assured of a clean get away.

However, as an extra measure of caution Angie intentionally jarred silver satin’s elbow of the hand steadying her eye glasses. Thus sending her glasses falling from her face to the floor with a small clatter, then Angie kicked them under a table before the startled lady could react. Angie offered to help, but the lady implored that she was okay, just needed to find her glasses. Angie left as Miss silver satin started to frantically grope around for her glasses, her silver blouse and remaining jewels shimmering brightly along their miserable mistress..

Angie took her leave, knowing that once she found her glasses, Miss silver satin would flee for sanctuary into the ladies powder room, buying her more than enough time for Angie to make her escape. Taking one last look over the dance floor, she blithely saw that miss silver satins fiancé was still in the clutches of the vivacious blonde-haired girl, still safely out of the picture. Angie made her way with purpose to the rear exit leading to the garden that she had used earlier, intending to head out into the serenity garden to collect the hidden bracelet and pendent, adding them to her purloined plunder.

**

As she walked amongst the mostly deserted tables, her mind went to the woman in yellow taffeta and imagined that right about now she would be standing with raised arms and a forlorn look. Ruefully wincing as the man who was holding her mink busily stripped those luscious pearls from the neckline of her tight gown, as the shiny yellow material gleamed in the moonlight! Serves her right for being afraid of spiders, Angie thought unforgivingly.

***

Angie’s mind also went to the poor young princess in blue with the missing necklace. She looked towards the area she had headed, opposite of the back exit to the garden. She reluctantly decided not to push her luck, there was a sister and parents to contend with, and she really had no time left. So she decided to call it a day, a rather successful day, and made her way to retrieve her loot.

**

Angie had now reached the now deserted table by the back exit where the lady in the crimson gown and blood red rubies had been earlier, along with her rhinestone encumbered 10 year old daughter and handsome husband.

**

She paused between the table and the bench, something was not quite right, She eyed the area around the dance floor for any signs of trouble that may be centered on the quite valuable jewels now in her possession. All was quiet, except for a little murmur behind her. Turning she looked at the bench and was shocked to discover the soundly asleep ten year old, using the long rusty sable fur as a blanket. What have we here, Angie thought, licking her lips wickedly?

**

Angie pursed her lips, checking the coast; spotting the young girl’s parents, still on the dance floor, a safe distance away the other side of the room. No sign of miss silver satin. No one else was nearby. Perfect. She went over, bending down so the table hid her. The child looked so vulnerably innocent, sound asleep as she lay on her side, facing Angie. She was clutching an arm of the sable like a warm fuzzy teddy bear, her ring sparkling. Angie gently tugged the mink from the girl’s clasp, and gradually pulled until the fur swished away from along the inert silken figure on the bench, where it fell into a pile on the floor. The child looked very innocent, very vulnerable, like a sleeping princess. An earring lay exposed over one shoulder, her necklace dangled down slightly askew from her slender throat, the pin holding her sash, all of which shone brightly now that it was exposed to the low lights of the ballroom, still called out. Too bad, Angie thought to herself, too bad the mother had not dressed her little doll in real diamonds.

**

 

Angie again looked to the dance floor; she could see the mother’s jewelry twinkling brightly as the child’s parents danced close, very unaware of anything else but themselves. She looked back over the girl, contemplating. But the song was winding down, Angie stooped to pick up the sable, bird in hand she thought, and placing the rich fur over her arm, stood just as the song ended. Looking at the exit door, so near and yet so far, she started to hasten to it, but checked herself as the band immediately started another, rather slow song that Angie knew quite well.

**

She hesitated, incredibly, everyone was staying on the floor for the final dance, she looked back at the bench, and the sleeping imps exposed jewels still shined, tempting her to come for them. Angie knew that she would only have about four minutes. Always open to new challenges, Angie chose to answer that sweet little invite that the necklace was extending out to her. Checking once again to make sure the parents was still obliviously dancing; she laid the mink down by the door and eased back to the bench. Kneeling down, Angie began to perform the delicate operation.

**

Lifting up the necklace she gently tugged it loose from around the sleeping child’s neck until the clasp appeared. She subtly flicked open the clasp, then shamelessly slipped the necklace from around its perch on the little whelp’s throat. It flickered like some slithering shiny snake, glittering as it came away. Like taking candy from a baby, Angie drooled happily, as she let the necklace run along her fingertips while watching the sleeping princess for a few seconds.

**

Her fitted cream coloured dress shimmered with expensive richness in the shadowy light. The poor thing was so soundly asleep after her long exhausting day that Angie figured she could have peeled the dress off her without causing a stir. This for a pickpocket would be the ultimate test, the pinnacle of her criminal class. But, Angie thought; if she ever had the opportunity to do so, it would have to be worth her while, like a shiny gown, an appealing sky blue gown with half sleeves and scooped collar. And the jewels would be sapphire drop earrings, bracelet and ring, not plain rhinestones. She licked her lips at the enticing thought of such a perfect “coup fera”, than told herself to get back to work, time was money.

**

She slipped her hand along the satin cape being used as a pillow and felt under the girls head until she felt the cold earring she was laying upon. Deftly undoing the screw she pulled it free, watching with delight as it came out from underneath.

**

Angie than, gently lifted, and nimbly stroked back the girl’s ultra-soft hair, exposing her long silvery earring. She pulled the jewel out and laid it out upon the child’s shoulder, where it lay, shimmering vibrantly. Then she reached in with her fingers and began unscrewed its clasp. Pulling it free she added it to her growing collection. She next lifted the hand that had held the warm sable, gently prying open her clenched fingers. The sleeping child never stirred. Angie gently slipped off the glittering ring. She then peeled back a silky sleeve, checking for the bracelet, finding her wrist was bare. The rest of the jewels were hiding securely on the side she was laying upon. Smiling wickedly to herself, an idea popped into Angie’s head.

**

The music was now almost to the halfway point, and Angie thought for a brief second that she should leave . Another quick scan assured her the coast was still clear, and Angie decided to press her luck, eagerly going back to work, putting her idea into motion.

Angie fingers felt along the sleeping child’s waist until she located the brooch. Quickly unfastening the brooch from the chocolate satin sash, she pulled it out. Watching as the diamonds caught fire and burst into vibrant life, unusually vivid for plain rhinestones she thought contemplatively. Angie plopping it in with the growing pile of the sleeping girls purloined baubles. Again reaching in along the warm waist, Angie gradually tugged at the now undone sash. The sleeping girl, unconsciously obliged by turning over on her other side, as the sash was pulled away.

**

Her arm with the ring and bracelet was now exposed. Lifting the arm , and peeling back the puffy sleeve, Angie found and unclasped the bracelet, slipping it away, then allowing it to dangle in triumph before letting it join its purloined mates. Then lifting the child’s hand she pulled at the ring, it was a little tight. Angie licked her fingers, and moistened the girls finger, than began slipping the ring off ever so gently from the along her finger. Almost there, Angie thought, as the ring joined its abducted companions in her pocket.

 

**

As Angie finished pocketing the last of the girls jewels, her victim whimpers something discernible in her sleep, her small hand feeling to pull up the missing warm sable she had been using as a blanket. Angie quickly looked around, spying a cheap linen coat hanging on a nearby hook, she grasped it and laid it over the stirring girl, stroking her for a precious few seconds. Then rising, calmly Angie snatched a shiny purse from the table, and moved off, unbelieving of her luck. She reclaimed the sable fur, and strolled out the door without looking back.

**

As Angie closed the door she heard the last notes of the song waning from inside. She licked her lip, that was close, but her luck had held. Now all that remained was to visit the Cupid Statue In the garden to reclaim her other prizes. As she reached the statue, Angie realized that she still had the child’s satin sash in her hand.

She smiled as she tied it, blindfolding the cupid statues eyes. Retrieving and pocketing the now stone cold diamond bracelet, and the young Princess in blue’s necklace with its shimmering pendent, she slowly looked around, the cost was clear. Angie coolly made her way to the gate, the bored guard offering to help her with the mink she was carrying. , Angie stopped, and handed it to him. Then turning, allowed him to help her on with it. He puffed out his chest as Angie gave him a sweet smile; she thanked him, then turned and disappeared into the darkness of the night.

**

Angie disappeared from view into the foggy evening, relishing the warmth of the sensuous sable. Happily contemplating the small fortune in jewels it had been in contact with earlier that evening, and also the small fortune she had walked out of the reception with in her possession.

**

The guard watched the spot for some time where the pretty lady in the expensive fur had vanished in the mists. He fantasized for a good few minutes, wondered what had been behind the enchantingly secret smile she had given to him.

Excuse me, sir?, a female voice coming from the garden startles him, he had never heard anyone coming.

He turns, catching an eyeful of a long glamourous, brown satin gown, worn fetchingly by a willowy short haired pretty young thing. Diamonds blazed from around her throat, caught by the gas lights, and from around her white satin gloved wrists as she raised her hands in a pleading fashion.

She continues, pointing to a young girl in a smashing blue satin gown, bending over looking for something in the bushes. My sister lost her necklace and pendent while playing around here earlier, did you or anyone find it? She asked in a rather seductive tone of voice9 not a common, it was her regular voice)

No lady, no one turned in a necklace. Thank you sir, and she turns away, her gown flowing out behind her.

He watches for a minute as she and her sister both move elegantly down the path, continuing their search.

He sighed, and turns away, babysitting rich dames he mutters under his breath, what a dismal way to make a living. Why won’t this affair ever end he asked himself, as he reached for his silver pocket watch to check the time. Damnations he said, not finding it nor its chain and fob, must have dropped it in the alley earlier where I had gone for a nipper from his flask. He sauntered off quickly to the alley located in the direction Angie had disappeared, abandoning his post.

Soon after, a pair of dark figures who had been walking on the opposite side of the street, and had stopped to loiter when they spied the guard talking to some posh broad in a shiny brown dress, saw the guard leaving his post. They quickly stole with sinister intent across the road and entered into the gardens, disappearing into the darkness.

*********************************************************************************

This ended up being Angie’s first big score, She got more for the rhinestone set then she had imagined, the small brooch taken off the brown satin sash had proved to have real diamonds in its center! Also the princess in silky sky blue’s pendent and chain had fetched a nice tidy sum. The jewels lifted from the ladies in Green and Silver also realized quite a handsome profit, as did the sable and purse.

if one includes the real diamond ring slipped off the finger of a silky dressed debutante from the prom show and her rather nice haul of a slim pearl necklace and diamond pin from the Opera, the whole weekend was unimaginably successful.

**

From the profit realized, she had been able to spend a pleasant month away in Monte Carlo, even indulging in the purchase of a rich red wine coloured taffeta gown to wear.

Which she pleasantly found that, when paired with her deftly acquired collection of dripping rhinestone diamond jewelry, she attracted wealthy young males with expensive gold watches and fat wallets like honey bee drones to a bright moss rose.

**

She also enticed a long raven haired, Miss, richly clad in emerald silk, to enter into her snare.

But Angie did not make an entirely clean get away. For the last jewel to be taken was the girl’s brooch , and before Angie could hide it with the rest, the girl spotted its’ glitter in Angie’s hand, and with a gasp had looked down on her dress at the now vacant spot where it had been dangling ever so provocatively for Angie all evening.. Angie smiled at the girl as she had looked up in confusion. The girl had placed a hand to her throat, startled when feeling it bare of her necklace. She looked at Angie in hurt confusion, her eyes wide with fright. Angie placed a finger to the girl’s lips, hushing any fuss she may have been thinking of making over her missing jewelry, and turning her back to the forlorn miss, Angie left, not looking back….

**

But that was a story for another day, so we were promised by Angie, giving us an all too familiar look of devious satisfaction at making us wait.

.************************************************************************************

Editor’s Notes:

Our Thanks to Mr. J. Gardner for pointing out the existence of Mr. Monescu’s 1826 guide

If you enjoyed our little story, please like and leave a comment.

And if you wish, describe what intrigued you the most about it…

Thank You

 

Brilliant shines the light of the universe on earth

 

A bouquet of the worlds magnitude

As precious as life

Given as a gift to an ungrateful people

 

A shimmering array of colors

Showering over the horizon

Indescribably captivating

Unutterably beautiful

 

No words,

No words can capture

The light of the universe that shines on earth

 

'... light of the universe ...' On Black

  

It would have been quite cool if upload number 222 had been this bus given its fleet number, but I kinda only thought about that approximately 10 seconds before starting writing this description sooooo oh well lol.

 

Lothian Buses - Edinburgh Bus Tours division - open top Volvo B5TL Wright Eclipse Gemini 3 V2 "Stealth" body SJ16 CSO (Fleet Number 222) is pictured here on South Bridge in Edinburgh running an Edinburgh City Sightseeing tour service CS1.

 

This vehicle wears that memorable red City Sightseeing livery with the yellow diagonal stripe and is the second of 9 examples in the same livery. I will say the way the open top section has been done on these buses looks very nice indeed, it's one of those ones you can tell it was designed to be open top from the start (which is true it was built open top) and not something that's had a conversion later on in its life. Also notice the extra section of upper front window just above the destination display - only on the Edinburgh tour buses have I seen that. Not really sure how much extra view that provides as I haven't had a ride on any of them but there must be some decent benefit to warrant putting it in.

 

Date Taken: February 15th, 2023

Device Used: Motorola Moto G100

Date Uploaded: May 23rd, 2023

Upload Number: 228

 

Interested in seeing some bus videos? You'll find buses both real and virtual on my YouTube channel, as well as other cool bus-themed stuff too! - www.youtube.com/@ZZ9sTransport

 

© ZZ9's Transport Photography (ZZ9 Productions). All Rights Reserved. Modification, redistribution, reuploading and the like is prohibited without prior written permission from myself.

At any given time, something can happen that changes your life forever. Some say that such an occurrence is just coincidental. Perhaps, but I think that more often than not it is the result of divine intervention.

Slideshow : www.flickr.com/photos/reurinkjan/sets/72157635937209655/show

 

Following the Zhi-chu River upstream to its source in the Drida Zellmogang range. This is the name given to the highland region forming a watershed between the upper Dri chu འབྲི་ཆུ་ (Yangtze) and the upper Nyag chu ཉག་ཆུ་ (Yalong). En route it passes through Khorlomdo and Rida, where there are small Sakyapa monasteries, and the Kasado gorge.

Khorlomdo, 28 km from Derge Gonchen, has an old copper image of Jowo Shakyamuni in its assembly hall, which is now maintained by some 50 monks. Two 3-4 day trekking routes lead from Khorlomdo to Dzogchen Monastery, crossing the Trola Range (Chola Range) via Henak La pass (4950 m) and via Le La pass (4390 m). The former passes in close proximity to Mount Dorje Ziltrom (5816 m), which is one of the highest peaks of the Trola Range (Chola Range). The latter, which is the old trade route to Dzachuka, passes through Galen Gonpa (3700 m), the seat of Namkhai Norbu, who resides in Italy and has established an international network of centres, know collectively as the Dzogchen Community.

www.footprinttravelguides.com/c/2848/tibet/&Action=pr...

Placed between tombstones, these early spring crocuses are making coloured statement of giving us a hint of things to come. Hopefully, in great contrast of “beast from the east” we had in London at this time last year. Shot last Sunday with my phone, now gardenias and daffodils in full bloom.

Given the year, I thought it would be fitting to join the Then and Now challenge, so here it is - my quick entry.

 

I actually started Second Life in 2008 when it was introduced to my secondary school for learning purposes. Me and a few friends were part of a test group to see if Second Life could be a viable educational resource. We were set up on special accounts that only had access to our school's sim, which featured a building that was supposed to be the design of our school's new building (we moved into the new building in early 2011 and it looked nothing like the Second Life one).

 

That wasn't enough for me. I jumped on a teen grid account and got busy roleplaying. And the rest, as they say, is history. I took a few breaks here and there, but I returned properly in August 2016 and am still around now as GavinIV - Fletch to friends.

 

Join in here: strawberrysingh.com/2019/01/06/then-and-now-secondlifecha...

Not again. Get it out of my swimming pool!

 

Ever Given a joke?

While on the boat we were given an option of a speed boat ride along the river, here I was able to get a shot of the paddles in full motion.

Given the dull conditions, this view from the bridge was brighter than looking from the other direction. Note the second coach is a former Couchette car refurbished into normal day use.

Credits!

Having given up on the Omnidekka, which clearly wasn't existing despite Bustimes' assurance it was just around the corner, I was just walking back when out of nowhere came a whole load of Volvo B7s on school routes I had no idea existed. The first one was this Wright Eclipse bodied B7RLE, new to Lothian and wearing the livery of its previous operator Pulhams, although who operates it now I have no idea.

 

Market Street, Bottesford, 17.6.22

 

with my psuedo-Xpan (i.e. Fujifilm GFX100s + Fujinon 23mm/f4 which given the crop factor is equivalent to the legendary 30mm Xpan lens)

 

See Part 1 in my archives Peepz. And if you're in a hurry, you may want to read this later, or in bits...it's bloody long. It's a work in progress...

 

"The Diamond Ring"

 

As my gaze scanned the small, crowded bus depot in Adelaide that December morning, I had all but given up trying to find a lift with anybody from the bus, as I hadn't met anybody on the truck stops we'd made along the way. The ticket counter wasn't open yet, so I decided that I should just wait there until it opened, and figure out what to do next after that. In the meantime I could put out some feelers and try and sense whether anybody else there looked like they might be headed for the eclipse. At that point I was still convinced I should try to get on a connecting bus to Ceduna, where most of the eclipse watchers would be, but I was sure that the tickets were sold out. I hadn't ruled out hitching on the road, but hoped it wouldn't come to that. I was also a little dubious about the weather. It was seven thirty in the morning, and the clouds formed a thick blanket of grey above the city.

 

The day before, I'd checked the weather forecasts to see what the outlook was like and it was sketchy. There was going to be cloud cover in most of the places along the path of totality, but the forecast said that the clouds should clear to just a scattering by mid or late afternoon. It might have prevented me from going at another time, but because I felt so driven to go I trusted that wherever I ended up would be the right place, with the right people and the right conditions. Still, I couldn't help having a slight sense of trepidation over whether all my efforts would end up in travelling over a thousand miles to watch a total eclipse of a total eclipse.

 

So with all that and more whirring around my skull, I let my eyes skim the crowd while my otherware kicked in at the non-local levels, and before I knew it I couldn't help but notice these two guys who were standing in one of the aisles a few feet away from me. It was their wooden case that first caught my attention and it got me pretty excited when it looked liked it was just the right size for a telescope. When I looked for who might own it, I scoped them. They looked a little fatigued, but ready for action.

 

The tall one that looked like Tom Selleck was dressed in loose khaki shorts with cargo pockets, a matching polo shirt, chunky white socks and brown suede walking boots. Short blondish-brown hair peeked out from beneath a baseball cap that made his rugged features look slightly boyish, but he looked to me to be around forty. Standing next to him was a guy of similar age, who looked like your classic computer programmer or science genius. He was more slightly built, had a pale complexion and black rimmed glasses. He was wearing a black leather jacket over his knitted jumper and polo shirt (which was underneath and neatly tucked in to his jeans), a black belt and some well-worn brown leather shoes.

I was totally loving their look. I had to meet them.

 

I approached them and asked if they were going to see the eclipse.

I think they might have been a bit surprised to have been approached but they smiled and said yes. I found out that their names were Gerard and Alan, then they told me that they'd been on the same bus from Melbourne I'd been travelling on. I had been all the way up the front in seat 1D behind the driver, and hadn't seen them behind me in seats 11C and D.

 

I told them that I was going to try to get to Ceduna. They glanced at each other making me feel uneasy and they said that the weather forecast didn't look so good there. It was much better where they were going, the Wirraminna Rail Siding, in the desert, but first they had to go to Port Augusta where they would be picking up their car.

 

It became instantly apparent that going to the desert over the coast was a way better idea given the weather, so I figured that the best thing for me should be to try to get to Woomera with them (which is where I thought the Wirraminna Rail Siding was). I imagined this really cute country town where there would be balloons and streamers in the streets and lots of bakeries. I thought that we'd get there, mingle with the others who'd gathered, and then I could find accommodation and another lift back to Adelaide the next day. I asked that if I could get Port Augusta, would they let me hitch with them to Woomera? We all decided to have breakfast together and see.

 

As soon as we sat down they were pulling out all these crazy maps and charts that they'd downloaded off the net, one with a pencil line drawn by hand marking the path of totality. Others had bright highlighted sections where they'd made other notes. They had made all the calculations for latitude and longitude, timing down to the second, were a wealth of astronomical knowledge and they told me all about the amazing capabilities of the camera gear they'd brought. They were prepared for everything. I could not believe my luck. They even had spare eclipse glasses! They were able to tell me everything I needed to know and I really hoped it could all happen so that I could travel with them.

 

After breakfast I noticed that the ticket counter was about to open and I watched as about twenty people formed two queues in front of the two nearest windows. A third window had also opened but no-one seemed to want to go there and at first I stood at the end of one of them then figured it wouldn't hurt to ask, so I went over to the third window. When I asked if that was the right ticket counter for a bus ticket to Port Augusta I was told it was and got my ticket in about 30 seconds, beating everybody. It was a completely full bus, confirming to me again just how much we make our own luck.

 

The guys agreed to let me join them in Port Augusta and I felt this wave of gratitude leave my body and travel out into the cosmos. As I looked at them hanging out together with their impressive assortment of camera gear, tripods, bags and telescope, with their open, friendly faces, smart casual clothing and a tendency toward geekishness, they looked like my very own Batman and Robin. I smiled inwardly. My prayers HAD been answered! I DID find the right people to travel with right there on the bus!

 

It was a moment I'll never forget.

 

After that I found a pay phone and rang Bimbo Deluxe, a bar I had a residency at, and left a message letting them know I wouldn't be coming in for my set that night.

 

We got on the next bus, me alone behind the driver in 1A again, and them just a few seats behind. I spent a bit of time visualising a bright blue, cloudless sky for the eclipse, and reminding myself to be in the moment, trusting as much as possible that life would take me where I needed to go, as the frequencies of gratitude for all that had occurred up until then filled me and flowed outwards from me. All the seeds sown by reading the CWG series which had tied up so many loose ends for me in my esoteric studies, were beginning to sprout and I wanted to breathe as much life into them as possible. I wanted to see how they might grow, as I did. I thought about Time. Then I slept deeply.

 

"Alan and Gerard spent the trip working out the orbital distance of the Moon and the rotation of the Earth in order to finally understand the path taken by the Moon during the eclipse and the speed at which it travelled. This was facilitated by the calculator in the mobile phone. Alan also worked out how photo exposures and bracketing points using full and ½ stops."

 

This is what Gerard wrote about what he and Alan did on the bus to Port Augusta, in his own account of our travels called "Eclipse 2002". He has even named the subtitles in Chapter 1, which will give you a greater idea of what's to come.

 

Subtitle 1: Alan's, Gerard's and Liz's Big Time-Warp Adventure

Subtitle 2: Port Augusta or Bust!

Subtitle 3: The Kangaroo Did It

 

I believe all time is happening in one eternal now. Especially since studying the Maya's supreme understandings of cosmic timing cycles and mathematics. Whenever I begin to worry about anything "in the future", I ask myself, "Am I OK, in this moment?", and the answer is always yes, so it's a good way for me to quell my fears and anxieties, and to trust life more. I really started this practice on a regular basis during this trip. And I was more than ok, as I was soon to see..

 

When we arrived at Port Augusta, the sky had cleared and a few tufts of white dotted the sky, which was a relief, and a beautiful gleaming silver sedan met us at the terminal. It belonged to Gerard, and I asked how even though he lived in Melbourne, his car was quite conveniently waiting for us in Port Augusta, at the bus terminal. After we piled into the car I heard the first of many stories during that trip that would change me forever.

 

The guys had so much gear it was hard to believe they'd carried it all by themselves and for a few moments I had my doubts that we would fit everything of theirs into the car, let alone have room for me or my scant belongings. After some tricky packing though, a space was made available for me to squeeze into in the back seat, behind Alan who was in the passenger seat, and with Gerard expertly handling the wheel, we set off for last minute supplies.

 

The whole transition from the bus to the car couldn't have been timed more perfectly or executed with more ease. It was a good sign, but once we got in the car I really knew that the gods had smiled down on me. They could've had a big old pick up truck for all I knew, but instead I was able to relax in the luxury of black leather seats and enjoy the views from air conditioned comfort, gaze out at the sky through the sunroof and tinted windows and tell the outside temperature from a LED display in the wood dash. To top it all off, I had just met the two coolest, smartest straight guys I'd met in ages, and we were about to embark on a truly amazing adventure together. I was happy and grateful to be alive.

 

We stopped in Pt Augusta's main shopping drag for some lunch, supplies and fuel for the trip. After some bad cafe food Alan and I headed off to the supermarket while Gerard attended to some other business and we quickly dashed around picking up water, bags of fruit, nibbles, and chocolate (for me). I asked Alan if they'd like to have something to eat later, maybe for a picnic? This seemed like a good idea to him (I don't know if the guys, for all their planning, had considered the necessity for food at all), and I picked out a roast chicken and some salads. I completely forgot to buy a disposable camera in Adelaide so I tried finding one there only to discover they were sold out. There was a Woolies a block down too (also sold out of cameras), but I quickly purchased a cotton blanket as I had nothing warm with me, and hoped it would come in handy, seeing I already had my pillow and I had no idea where I was sleeping that night. All I knew was that the eclipse was in less than four and a half hours and when we met up with Gerard a short time later, it was agreed that there was no time to spare, so we, and the fully-laden car, swung back onto the road and headed for the outback. Alan had a collection of maps in the glove box that he would refer to from time to time as Gerard brought us up to a comfortable cruising speed of 130 kph. ETA was going to be 17:45 at our desired spot.

 

They were both great story tellers, although you could see that Alan's more outgoing personality was more suited to it, but Gerard certainly didn't seem concerned, and I realized later that even though Gerard had heard Alan tell most of his stories several times before, he obviously still liked to hear them, and he often helped coax a story out of Alan's memory banks by reminding him of some of the funny details.

 

I began to hear about how they had been driving through the South Australian countryside a month earlier, taking photos and generally enjoying a break from work for a few days when they had hit a kangaroo when it suddenly jumped out in front of the car and stopped them all in their tracks. Gerard's car had been in the shop at Port Augusta getting extensive repairs done ever since, and as the eclipse was occurring at the same time they could collect the car, they decided (at the last minute too) to come and get it and see the eclipse at the same time. At the end of their story we all fell silent for a moment as it dawned on us that their encounter with the kangaroo had actually created the conditions for us to meet as we did. The kangaroo was pivotal to the whole story and we knew it. I silently thanked the kangaroo for it's role in all this, and for the ripples that that moment created when it lost its life that night, as I marvelled at the way our lives had intersected.

 

Whatever green countryside there was around Pt Augusta soon made way for flat, dry earth covered in clumps of long grasses, low bushes and small trees as we sped towards Woomera. We passed a few old run down towns that looked like the only public outlet was the petrol station, and I wondered how people out there spent their time, and how children, if any, could cope with the sheer barrenness and isolation. Then we passed Pimba. It was so third world I was totally taken aback. I felt like I'd stepped into an alternate reality, into another version of Australia, one I would never want to dream into reality, but it already was. It was quite a sight. We all unanimously agreed that it was a "hole" of gargantuan proportions, a "standard reference hole" at that, as we passed the shabby weatherboard houses that all seemed to be just barely standing, with each and every backyard sporting massive piles of rubbish and broken down, rusting machinery. I thought I'd seen bad, after all, some of my poor Filipino relatives used to live in houses where to get there, you'd have to walk on wooden planks to avoid the mud, streams and little fishes everywhere, but this was BAD.

 

I could see why the area we were fast approaching was home to a detention centre for illegal immigrants, a former nuclear missile testing ground and hot spot for UFO sightings. There was nothing. For miles around, nothing. Just red earth, a bit of scrub, and the wind and sky. I must admit as well as watching for the clouds to clear up even more, I was constantly on the lookout for any unusual aerial phenomena as I'd thoroughly done my research and the probability for a sighting was in my estimation, high.

 

While we drove to our destination we all got to know each other a bit better which was easy as we all seemed to like one another. At first I was a little unsure about whether Alan was actually happy about me being in tow, as the two of them had conferred briefly before deciding to let me come, and I'd picked up on a vibe. I couldn't blame him if it he wasn't all too pleased, as my coming along had interfered with their plans and well, "guy time". I soon put those thoughts to rest though as it as it soon became apparent to all of us that that the extra pair of hands I now afforded them, might've actually come in quite handy.

 

We went over a few things about the way the guys wanted to set up their gear, and what we would do when totality arrived. Then they started describing to me how they would like me to help change a solar filter on "the Lens", this massive super-telephoto thing. They explained that When Gerard said "totality", I had to take the filter off and to put it in a special Tupperware container that they had brought with them. I was like, "Oh my God, are these guys for real? We're actually practicing a DRILL for taking photos!". Say what you will, I thought they were unreal.

 

I know that sort of daggy technical stuff about photography and math and astronomy that we talked a lot about is pretty boring for most people but I frickin love it! And I didn't even need a camera after all! It was almost too much, too good.

 

When we passed Woomera it dawned on me that we weren't going to stop there, and that I'd gotten my wires slightly crossed. But as we drove past it, I thanked my lucky stars I wasn't going. The town looked horrible, with a big vintage fighter plane mounted on a big metal brace near the "Welcome to Woomera" sign near the town's entrance, to show off our so-called military "might", right(?), and the selfish misuse-use of our country's resources by stupid white guys who are all dead now anyway. I didn't see one person anywhere. The whole town looked deserted and felt like a museum you'd never go want to go visit. It didn't look like anywhere I could find accommodation at either, that's for sure. The Wirraminna Rail Siding was another 73 km on from Woomera, as I quickly learned, as the guys handed me the map and asked me to calculate the distance.

 

When I realised that I had no plan of action for after the eclipse, or anywhere to stay, and that I was in the middle of nowhere, I decided to just go with the flow, and didn't worry too much about it, and drew comfort from the fact that at least I'd had the foresight to bring dinner.

 

When we started getting close, the energy in the car changed from quiet expectation to a more intense, hair prickling kind of anticipation. I'd been chatting quite animatedly with the guys from the back seat the whole way there, but now I was nearly bouncing up and down like a child with excitement as we passed the parked cars, then bus loads of Japanese tourists, four-wheel drives and camper vans. The Japanese tourists had lined up all their shiny camera gear in front of their respective buses and had about 30-50 telescopes per bus pointed at the Sun. We kept driving though, for another couple of k's, headed for as close to the centre line of the path of totality as possible. When they explained this to me, I nearly exploded with glee, although I didn't really grasp the enormity of this fact until the moment of the eclipse itself.

 

The sky had finally cleared to just a bit of late afternoon haze, and the temperature was up around 27 degrees, a far cry from the sombre 11 degrees that morning in Adelaide. I was being taken to a spot on the earth that would be precisely in line with the Moon and the Sun as the eclipse took place. I thought back to the day before when all of this had been just a dream. I knew I was experiencing life at a much a higher frequency than the one I normally did, and things that would normally take a lot longer to materialize, seemed to be taking form almost instantly.

 

We finally saw a place where we could park. There were a few people dotted around the brush nearby. Some guy was hanging out at his ute with his sheepdog about 30 metres away. He looked liked a local with his cut-off sleeves and messy shoulder length hair. There were a couple with a tent next to their car some distance away too, as well as a tourist bus parked on the other side of the road behind us. Although there were really only a few others in the close vicinity, the air still felt tantalisingly pregnant with expectation.

 

We began unpacking the car and setting up all the gear. Alan had cut some sheets of polystyrene back in Melbourne to make a viewing box and we set about putting it together. The tripods were set up and the telescope came out of it's handsome handmade box. Gerard took care of setting up his two cameras and the Super Lens and soon everything was done. He found himself afterward, aching for somewhere to relieve himself and decided the only gentlemanly thing to do was drive the car down the road a couple of k's and find somewhere totally private. I think he had to go quite a way though as he was gone for quite a few minutes...

 

I had mentioned to Alan and Gerard earlier that I was interested in UFO's and I was secretly hoping I might get to see one fly past as the only other time was a long time ago, and it was pretty far away. I kept my eyes peeled to the skies, which by now were absolutely clear of any haze and a vivid, bright blue. YAY.

 

During the 1991 eclipse in Mexico City, tens of thousands of spectators saw a huge metallic disc sitting stationary as it slowly spun in the air and emitted a reddish glow. It was captured by 17 different cameras at the time and you can get the videos online if you do a search. Anyway, it was in the air above the city for 30 minutes before, during, and after the eclipse. But that is something I have learned since.

 

We did the practice run of the drill for when totality struck, when Alan would have me change the solar filter on the camera lens. Gerard was supposed to alert us when totality came, which only lasted 32 seconds, by saying "Totality". I would quickly remove the filter and say "Off", and put it into the special Tupperware container, heh. When totality was nearly over I was to put the filter back on and say "On" and he would continue snapping. It was a pretty funny and well, beyond cute for me. We laughed a lot while we were practicing too, so you can see they don't take themselves too seriously. Along with their brain power, personalities, preparedness and 5 star transport, it was everything that worked for this li'l diva. It was so hard to believe how amazing this was all turning out, but I kept reminding myself to accept it, because it was exactly what I'd set out to create. I was ticking off all the things on my checklist of requirements effortlessly. They were the perfect eclipse companions.

 

It was getting close to the time when "first touch" was going to occur and both Alan and Gerard started getting really anxious and a bit fidgety. They made last minute checks of their gear, which turned out to be good thing, as Gerard realised that one of the lenses on his camera wasn't right and changed it. They checked their watches, which had been synchronised to the second (NO! Really? Yes...REALLY), and I got some of the prepared polystyrene board so Alan could project the Sun's image onto it from the telescope's eyepiece while they both took pictures. The wind was up and it was becoming increasingly difficult to hold it so that it was straight, but I managed, and they were able to capture all the crucial moments without too much trouble in the end, but how the hell they'd planned to do all that on their own, I have no idea. There was only about an hour to go until totality and I wondered when the sky would begin to grow dark.

 

We occupied our time by switching from eclipse glasses to looking through the Super-Lens and watching the projector board. After 40 minutes or so I noticed that the desert was beginning to look darker and redder. It was so beautiful with the contrast in colours so much more pronounced all around us. Then it became darker and darker very quickly. The soil, the rocks, the trees, everything now looked like a deep blood red. We looked at each other and knew that this is what we'd all come so far to see. The hairs began to stand on end on the backs of our necks. The Moon's disc was almost all the way across the Sun, and we couldn't wait for the last of it to be covered. As Alan was focussing through the camera, Gerard and I put the glasses on and watched. We grew more and more animated as the last couple of minutes ticked by, talking about how it was going to be great. They'd told me earlier that when the Sun was in totality, it was ok to remove the glasses due to the rays being blocked, which I didn't know, so now I was really hanging out for when I could look at the Eclipse with my naked eyes.

 

"All is ready. The sky is clear of any obstruction, the gear is set-up and as good as it can be. 14.5cm telescope, low power eyepiece and reflective board, Nikon 1200mm lens on a cinematographic tripod with a Nikon F100 behind it loaded with several feet of Fuji's finest 400 ASA film ready to go. All the planning has been for this moment. Researching the websites for eclipse locations, photographic exposure tables, rain and cloud-cover forecasts; the planning, the buying, the hiring, the building, the packing and the travelling have come down to this moment, which finds Alan, Gerard and Liz at the side of the Stuart Highway A87 halfway between Pimba and Glendambo in South Australia on Wednesday Dec 4 2002, at 19:40 and 43 seconds local summer time."

 

More from "Eclipse 2002".

 

Then Gerard yelled out "Totality!" and exactly what happened next is rather hazy. I know that at some point filters must have been changed and photos were taken, but what I do remember is Gerard saying, "Liz, you should take the glasses off". I turned my back to the sun, whipped them off my face and when I jumped back to look at the sky, my jaw fell. It was so incredible. Oh my God, OH MY GOD, the COLOURS!" And then I was suddenly going "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!" at the top of my voice and started pogo-ing up and down on the spot like an African Masai tribesman, not caring at all what Alan and Gerard must have thought about my rather vociferous, ebullient display. It was just so stunningly beautiful. Think of Jodie Foster's face in Contact when she travelled through the wormhole and saw the galactic core for the first time. Ok? Awesome. That was me. That was ME!!!!!

 

It was so ineffable, so untranslatable, so profound, to watch the perfect circle of the Moon's disc finally moving into place, and exactly covering the Sun's. The resulting diffuse flares of intensely-hued colours that began around the white-hot corona, and radiated trails that filled the entire dome of the sky overhead and as far as one could see. They formed in streaks of rich fire-orange, electrically charged gold, plasma-perking purples, reds of all shades, the deepest royal blues and St Germaine's violet flame. Small fiery orbs of intense orange, called Bailey's Beads, gathered and bubbled around the edges of the Moon's jagged mountain peaks and looked like liquid mercury. Stars became visible for those few moments, as did the planet Mercury, which hung like a small jewel in the sky beneath the Sun.

 

Nothing can prepare you for that moment. No photo can ever do it justice, no words can completely convey all the emotions that you experience or what your eyes actually see. It is like looking into the Eye of God.

 

Physically being a part of that alignment makes you understand just how synchronised this universe is. As I watched the Moon gliding over the Sun, as our planet turned, I felt like I was a both a witness to and a part of a great cosmic clock, and I was watching as the cogs were sliding perfectly into place. It stirred something so deep and ancient within me, my enduring connection to the Sun, and I knew that I could never be the same again. Looking back I realise that the rays of light I was exposing myself to were in fact carriers of particular frequencies that open usually inactive codes within our DNA, often referred to as "junk". What a crock. It's not junk, it's programs and codes that help re-install our Otherware, and we all have it in our DNA.

 

All across the desert, from all the different groups of people scattered around us and beyond our line of sight came cries out to the sky like mine. People cheered, hooted, honked, laughed, screamed, clapped, cried. Dogs howled. Their voices were carried by the outback winds high up into the air where they met and playfully merged with the sounds of others that had come from further away, then they dropped back down to earshot where my ears would catch them, and I could feel their wonder too. We all knew we were part of something infinitely greater than us, that we were seeing something incomparable, that we were part of some vast intelligence that permeates and synchronises the entire Cosmos.

 

The guys were similarly affected and started exclaiming things, which again are hazy. What is clear, is how we all just looked at each other at one point, and with crazed smiles across our faces, spontaneously hugged all at once, laughing. Then they both paced around our site afterwards saying things like, "No one can ever take this away from us. We can say WE WERE HERE", and "We saw it!" We really saw it!" and, "We can never say "Awesome" about anything else again!" I thought statements like these, especially from Gerard, were rather brave, as I couldn't imagine him having outbursts like this very often, and we all went "Yeah!" quite loudly in agreement...and laughing that excited laugh that is almost the same as the one you do when you drink too much red cordial.

 

I thought a lot about the unbelievable relationships of proportional size and distance that it takes to actually create a total solar or lunar eclipse from our vantage point on earth. It is not a coincidence that the sun is 400 times bigger than our Moon, or that it also happens to be 400 times further away from the Moon than the Moon is to Earth. Unsurprisingly, I've wanted to learn a lot about sacred geometry since then and from what the astronomers are saying about the layout of the Universe, it seems nothing has been placed anywhere by accident.

 

At the end of 32 seconds, after the Moon began to move again, the first rays of light emerged again and for the briefest time, we were treated to the dazzling "diamond ring" effect that results. It's what most of the eclipse watchers as their favourite moment and I now know why. We took more photos and continued to watch through the cameras or the on the projector board for at least another half an hour. The Sun had only been 14 degrees above the horizon when totality had occurred so the Sun set quickly as the last whiskers of the pinks and oranges of sunset trailed across the sky. We packed up and left there, as I continued to watch the sky out of the car's back window, for as long as any traces of light remained. By 9:15 they'd all disappeared, having been devoured by the by the encroaching darkness, and we were plunged into night once again.

 

Then I realised I could start looking for UFOs so I spent the next twenty minutes scouring the skies some more.

 

We were all still pretty high from the eclipse experience, but by that time we had settled into our own reveries and the car was silent. We decided to drive down the road a little further until we found a spot to stay at for the night. The guys figured they'd just sleep in the car, and that was fine by me. I was SO glad I'd bought that blanket, let me tell you, as it can get nippy out there in the desert, even in summer. We'd passed some lovely salt lakes on our way there during the day, but hadn't had time to stop so we decided to try and find one to make camp at. Gerard found a great spot down a dip off the road beside one of these giant salt lakes that was quietly shimmering as it reflected the starlight. As there was no moon or cloud, the stars lit up with sparkles over the black canvas of the sky. It had been awhile since I'd been out to the country and I'd forgotten just how many stars there were up there, but it was great to be reminded. I breathed in deeply and imprinted all I could about that moment into my DNA. The Milky Way was looking particularly milky, and when I remembered we had a telescope with us I nearly lost it. I completely forgot all about stargazing that day, which for me is unusual. I'd wanted to bring my own telescope but knew it wasn't practical, and I hardly thought I would get the chance for sky watching without having my own transport.

 

It was becoming more and more evident that our meeting was no accident. Every single thing that I had visualized was coming true, and I felt totally in the zone. The best part was that I could get an astronomy lesson too, something I hadn't even thought remotely possible when I left for Adelaide the night before. I'd only just begun studying backyard astronomy on my own for a few months at that stage, so I really appreciated the opportunity to learn some more from people who actually knew their stuff.

 

We set up a rug to sit on, a buffet was laid out on the boot of the car, and we had a fabulous starlight picnic, then Alan got to work putting the telescope back together. He'd not only painstakingly constructed the box for it, he's also done several clever modifications to the telescope itself. It was incredibly smooth to manoeuvrer and the viewfinder was mounted in such a way that made it permanently aligned to the eyepiece. Not bad compared to my clumsy thing, which was big and had a great lens, but needed constant adjusting.

 

Gerard had a red-light torch for perusing the star map, and between them both they had all the star maps you could wish for, including a current one. I'd brought my Mighty Bright light as well so we consulted the maps for awhile under the open hood of the boot, deciding finally that we should definitely try to get a rare glimpse of the Andromeda galaxy, which was going to be low on the horizon, but still visible for a little while from where we were. It's the closest spiral galaxy to ours, and part of our local system of stars, but it's still 2.2 million light years away!

 

So we began. We looked at binary star systems including Sirius A and B, the Great Square of Pegasus, found Andromeda (it looked amazing, though tiny - but who cares, I saw it with my own eyes), some pretty star clusters, a wild nebula in the Orion constellation, and loads more. We had a ball. I was completely enthralled. Alan turned to me after awhile and asked whether there was anything I would like to see, and I faltered for a minute. I tried to pull a star's name, a constellation, anything from my rather limited astronomical knowledge that I'd like to view. Then I remembered! It slipped off my tongue so easily like it was something I said all the time: "I'd like to see The Pleiades please". With a quick look at the sky map, he and Gerard quickly turned the scope into position and aimed. When Alan told me I could take a look, I put my eye up to the lens. I could not have been less prepared for the reaction that I had next. It all happened in the instant when the photons of light, carried across space for my eyes to see, entered my retina. I was greeted by the most gorgeous display of hundreds of shining points of light, like diamonds on black velvet, in a beautiful cluster formation, with the seven main stars of the constellation contained within my field of view. It was breathtakingly beautiful and I gasped audibly. Within nano-seconds every part of my being, down to my DNA, was resounding with the recollection that the stars I was looking at, were HOME. Yes home. H-O-M-E. What!?@!

 

Tears had welled up in my eyes and I just wanted to cry it was so beautiful, but I had to catch myself in front of the guys, as I didn't want to come across as a complete lunatic. I didn't even know what to think myself. I had to process this. It was happening so fast. So I composed myself and said something like, "Wow. That is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." (twice in one day, shit, what was happening to me?), and I found it very hard to tear myself away from the telescope after that .

 

We did however move away for awhile, and we all sat around chatting some more, and telling more stories. I didn't speak about what had just happened to me. I just sat with it and tried to make some sense out of it. I really knew very little about them, except that they were also known as the Seven Sisters and were a favourite for stargazers. The Pleiades weren't a part of my research or knowledge base at all. I don't even know how I even remembered the name. Whatever was unfolding though, I knew one thing was undeniable. I must be going insane. NO, just jerkin with ya, sorry, anyway, it was undeniable.

 

Everything in me knew that I was somehow deeply connected to this star system, but how? I resolved to do some investigating when I got home. But that night in the Australian Outback, in my planetary home, I knew that I had remembered another home, a galactic home, and that it was just as real. It thrilled me to the core. I was beginning to remember who I was!

 

Gerard retired early that night, and went to sleep in the driver's seat fully reclined, while Alan and I told a few more stories. I'd asked him earlier in the car if he'd ever seen any UFO's and had hinted at something but didn't really want to discuss it much. But when we were alone I asked him to tell me again and he did, reluctantly at first, but then much more engagingly, as he began describing some unusual sightings he'd had growing up on the coast in New Zealand.

 

These were not some pissy two second glances at a tiny little light in the sky type of sightings, his were skilfully detailed, varied, and in one case he watched some craft over a few hours. He eventually worked out that there must have been a flight path near his home because he would regularly see them all following the same course. Commercial and Air Force planes would also fly past but whenever he would ring Air Traffic Control at any of the Air Force bases or airports, he would be told that it was one of their regular flights, just a bit off schedule. Then he would say, "NO, I saw Flight Number so and so depart on time, this was something else," which always fucked them up. I heard some pretty amazing stuff and realised there was more to this funny computer guy cum action hero, than I thought. It didn't surprise me in the least that we could have something like that in common. I've always been attracted to people that, despite appearances, upon scratching their surface, you find that there's a whole lot more going on with them than you knew.

 

Alan declared he was sleeping outside on the rug, and I stayed up late into the night, just me, the telescope, and the stars. I finally had to go to bed when I looked directly up at the sky overhead a couple hours later, and the black void turned into a flat plasma screen and the stars became eyes, and they were all looking at, Me. That was the limit.

 

I was able to lie down quite comfortably in the back seat if I lay on my side in the Toblerone-shaped wedge that had formed under the reclined seats from the front. I adjusted my pillow, put the blanket over me and slept like a baby.

 

I found out later that the salt lake we were led to is named, quite appropriately, Lake Hart. Heart....geddit? Can you believe it? I actually couldn't. The gods have such a sense of humour.

 

Since then a lot has happened, and my kin in the Pleiades are now a big part of my life. They have taught me so much. I'll write a lot more about them in later posts, trust me.

 

And for the next two and a half days Gerard, Alan and myself ended up staying together. I gave them several opportunities to ditch me, but we were really having a lot of fun, and they would always invite me to stay on. We were well matched intellectually, but we all had quite different worldviews, so it was nice challenge for us to be mutually respectful of each other's ideas while trying to challenge one another as coherently as possible. We spent much time on the road exchanging ideas, trying on stuff for size, or sometimes throwing them in the 'too hard" basket. If Alan slept then Gerard and I would talk about stuff and vice versa. They both worked as computer technicians, which is how they met, and pretty early on it became obvious to me that some of my ideas about reality were pretty hard for them to hear. They were always open-minded enough to let me speak though, and they'd bounce things off me. We talked sporadically about some of the ideas in the CWG books that were relevant to that moment, or about a particular insight I'd had, or how you might apply some of the ideas to your daily living, and it sparked much interest and debate. I found out about a year later that Alan and Gerard had both decided to give the books a read a few months after our trip, which was brilliant.

 

It was always reciprocally enlightening, being in their company. They were an absolute mine of information about all sorts of things and we never ran out of topics to discuss. And it wasn't long before I threw away my return bus ticket and we leisurely drove me around some of the most beautiful South Australian countryside on a very scenic route back to Melbourne. We went through quaint little towns that they'd found on previous jaunts, and I saw the constantly changing landscape from high lookouts and wide open roads.

 

I've experimented with stretching time ever since I first discovered that when you fall in love, you can make a kiss last an eternity. You can also make a boring flight pass more quickly if you get good at it, or create an atmosphere at a party where a deep, lengthy, important conversation that seems to last for hours, passes in only twenty minutes. I've always liked bending and stretching time to suit my needs and on that trip it happened constantly, but it felt out of our hands for the most part, like we were caught in a strange time-warp so we just surrendered to it. "Is that the time?" was something we ended up saying more times than I can remember. And the best part was, it wasn't just me saying it, we all were.

 

We "parked" out the next night in a back street of a village. We got there quite late at night, and parked the car at what appeared to be a dead end street, with no neighbours to annoy. The next morning, we were mildly shocked to discover that we'd parked only a short distance away from the municipal dump! A few curious Jersey cows had congregated at the fence beside the car as well, and from beneath thick eyelashes, they were casually eyeing its sleeping inhabitants. The next night we were in the Barossa Valley, slightly more prepared, and we woke up to a gorgeous view of a hillside covered in rows and rows of lush green grapevines and blue sunny skies.

 

Once we got back to Victoria, we made for the Grampians, where time seemed to bend and take on a mind of its own again. No matter how we tried to stick to a schedule, or drive faster it just seemed to take a really long time to get back to the City. We saw wild deer in the mountains though, which I loved, and we used the drive to delve a little deeper into our exchanges. My cheeks welcomed the break too as they'd begun to ache a little due to all the laughing I'd done over the last few days, and especially that last day. Alan had let loose with some of his real life death-defying adventures at around lunchtime and he had me crying with laughter a few times. He really is Batman if all that stuff is true, and he told them like it was. So at around dusk, the tone changed slightly and I got to hear about a poltergeist that he'd lived with for over a year, and some other pretty far-out stuff that had happened to him. Gerard spent some time wanting to discuss the Akashic Field, so I fielded questions from both of them about that for awhile. We talked about reincarnation, dimensions of reality co-existing in the same space without knowing about each other, consciousness, the astral world, the Noetic Sciences Institute, a whole lot of stuff that I really love and it was a nice way to leave things.

 

We'd gone from being complete strangers to all being deeply transformed in some way by our meeting, in three and a half days. We'd trusted in our flexibility in each moment, and stretched ourselves beyond our normal comfort zones, creating or participating in large and small miracles, so it seemed, at every turn. We used our brains, which came as a great joy to me as I don't get to talk quantum physics with many of my disco friends. It's not their fault I know...but it was a nice change. I also knew that I'd helped to open up their perspective in many ways, as they did for me, in HUGE ways. My heart knew that I had been drawn to them because their soul's urge for change, and expansion, had already begun, by nudging them into unconsciously creating the conditions for me to enter their lives. I'd definitely sent out a call for them too, for the same reasons. The difference was that they had no idea I was coming along. I, on the other hand, had been certain that I would find them.

 

We finally made it back to Melbourne sometime around 9 pm that night. It was a lot later than we all thought we'd be back by, and we'd all been together non-stop for 3 and a half days. On our way home, I told them where I lived and it turned out that Alan lived just around the corner from me! It was nice, as dropping me off didn't pose any inconvenience at all. We swapped numbers and said our farewells amidst bear hugs and kisses goodbye. It was good to be home, back to my bed, but I could've kept going for at least another day if I'd had to. They dropped me off right to my front door.

 

We all knew it was meant to be, and it was.

We've all kept in touch too, Batman, Robin and I.

 

I'm forever in their debt for everything they shared with me, for their kindness and generosity and for behaving like perfect gentlemen the entire time. Men like these are really rare... but if you are one them, you should try going to an eclipse!

Man hoping to sell some birds in the street, given they seem to be Pigeons maybe he won't have a lot of luck. Bacolod City, Philippines.

 

Many thanks for the visits, faves and comments. Cheers

 

Brolga

Scientific Name: Grus rubicund

Description: The Brolga is a large grey crane, with a featherless red head and grey crown. The legs are grey and there is a black dewlap under the chin. Females are shorter than males. The energetic dance performed by the Brolga is a spectacular sight. Displays may be given at any time of the year and by birds of any age.

Similar species: The Sarus Crane, G. antigone, another species of crane found in Australia, can be identified by its dull pink legs and the red of its head extending down the neck.

Distribution: The Brolga is found across tropical northern Australia, southwards through north-east and east central areas, as well as central New South Wales to western Victoria.

Habitat: The Brolga inhabits large open wetlands, grassy plains, coastal mudflats and irrigated croplands and, less frequently, mangrove-studded creeks and estuaries. It is less common in arid and semi-arid regions, but will occur close to water.

Seasonal movements: Outside the breeding season, Brolgas form large family groups and flocks of up to a hundred birds. These groups may be partially nomadic or may stay in the same area. Some birds also migrate northwards.

Feeding: Brolgas are omnivorous (feeding on both vegetable and animal matter), but primarily feed upon tubers and some crops. Some insects, molluscs, amphibians and even mice are also taken.

Breeding: Brolgas probably mate for life, and pair bonds are strengthened during elaborate courtship displays, which involve much dancing, leaping, wing-flapping and loud trumpeting. An isolated territory is established, and is vigorously defended by both partners. The white (blotched with brown and purple) eggs are laid in a single clutch. The nest is a large mound of vegetation on a small island in a shallow waterway or swamp. Both adults incubate the eggs and care for the young birds. The Brolga is one of Australia's two crane species, and is known for its spectacular dance displays by both sexes during breeding season.

Calls: The Brolga's call is a loud trumpeting 'garooo' or 'kaweee-kreee-kurr-kurr-kurr-kurr-kurr-kurr', which is given in flight, at rest or during courtship.

Minimum Size: 100cm

Maximum Size: 125cm

Average size: 112cm

Breeding season: September to December in the south; February to May in the north

Clutch Size: 2 eggs

Incubation: 32 days

(Source: www.birdsinbackyards.net)

  

© Chris Burns 2016

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All rights reserved.

This image may not be copied, reproduced, distributed, republished, downloaded, displayed, posted or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic, mechanical, photocopying and recording without my written consent.

Given myself an alphabet soup game. Two new photos and another two from my photostream or archives, when possible.

 

Taken on the Île-de-Ré in 2002. This is the old lighthouse on the island, here's a photo of the more modern one. Le Phare de Baleine.

www.flickr.com/photos/44506883@N04/12384607125/in/set-721...

 

Thank you for your favourites. :O)

This delightful family were out on their branch mid afternooon as we drove northwards from Skukuza towards Satara. The youngster on the far right was quite reluctant to venture further along the branch, preferring the perceived security given by the proximity to the main trunk. But a real pleasure to see, especially during daylight hours.

 

President Aquino receives a thousand cranes of origami from Japinoy children. Cultural relevance; They are traditionally given as a gift by the folder who wishes a thousand years of happiness and prosperity to the recipient. Thus, it was the message that was conveyed for the President.

 

A thousand origami? I wish they were hair strands for Noynoy but he always promised for transparency anyway.. Just kidding.. haha.

Given the high infectiousness of the Omicron variant currently doing the rounds, I’ve been very careful about going out much, but people like me exhibitionism is a need.

 

Accordingly, I’ve been going out to bars that are not too crowded and that are strict about sighting verifying the authenticity of vaccination credentials.

 

I’m due for my booster shot soon and look forward to the days I can again tart about in the way I’m used to.

Given that she is me I assume I'm allowed to be a sexist pig in my attitudes towards her. 'While you're down there, darling....'

York, PA 1984.

Serving the local coloured community, The People’s Choice Superette stands on the street that divides the historically white from the coloured part of town. Given the history and the context, there seems to be something unintentionally ironic in the name.

 

Established in 1861, the small Karoo village of McGregor was originally called Lady Grey. It was renamed in 1905 in honour of the Rev. Andrew McGregor, who for forty years had served as the Dutch Reformed Minister for the area.

 

The once-sleepy village has become something of a refuge in recent years for those seeking respite from the big city blues, in search of quieter, slower, more creative or adventurous lifestyles. For visitors and weekenders, too, McGregor offers the perfect Karoo getaway, within easy driving distance from Cape Town, yet a world away. Still, the old persists with the new, and the influx of new money can’t wholly hide the inequalities that lurk on the outskirts.

Taken over a ten-year period, between 2012 and 2022, this series of photographs is from a project on South African country villages and towns. Many of the images are of small Karoo towns, and many of these in turn are of the Dutch Reformed Churches whose steeples are visible for miles around in the vast, semi-desert region that lies, metaphorically and geographically, at South Africa’s centre.

 

There is something about these Karoo towns, in particular, that has always spoken to me - the stillness of the empty streets in the heat of the day, the white, shuttered cottages, the big skies overhead. And always, at the edge of town, or sprawling out into the arid land, the coloured settlement or African location. In South Africa, as elsewhere, as Faulkner wrote, ‘The past is never dead. It’s not even past.’