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The Miami Beach Post Office is a historic 1937 Art Moderne U.S. Post Office building in Miami Beach, Florida, designed by Howard Lovewell Cheney and built under the patronage of the Works Progress Administration during the Great Depression.
This building is a historic building primarily in the Art Moderne style, closely related to Art Deco, known for its circular lobby, glass blocks, and distinctive cupola.
Key Architectural Features:
Style: Art Moderne (sometimes called Depression Moderne or Streamline Moderne), blending with Miami's Art Deco
surroundings.
Materials: Constructed with limestone and concrete.
Interior: Features murals by Charles Hardman depicting Florida history. While the main public area is on the ground floor, the central rotunda has a second level, topped by a cupola.
Significance: A notable example of Depression-era federal architecture, built under the Works Progress Administration (WPA).
Cheney designed the post office with a tall circular lobby with a cone-shaped roof and a thin tall cupola; a small round fountain directly beneath it and murals by Charles Hardman depicting Ponce de Leon's invasion of Florida on the wall above gold-colored post office boxes.
The building features a noteworthy main entrance with double doors topped by a ten-foot-high wall of glass blocks that allow natural light to fill the lobby. Just above the doorway a large stone eagle dominates the entrance. From the main lobby, the post office branches off to the rear service area and the side lobby where customers are received.
Charles Hardman, a native Floridian, was commissioned to paint a mural in 1940 by the Section of Fine Arts of the Works Progress Administration. He created a three-section mural that adorns the lobby wall. The sections are entitled Discovery, which shows Ponce de Leon’s arrival in Florida in 1513; de Soto and the Indians, showing Hernando de Soto and his men engaged in battle with Native Americans in 1539; and Conference, which shows General Thomas Jesup negotiating with Native Americans after the Second Seminole War in 1837. Hardman also painted a mural entitled Indians Receiving Gifts for the post office in Guntersville, Alabama.
for the data above is given to the following websites:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miami_Beach_Post_Office
www.google.com/search?q=what+architectural+style+is+the+p...
© All Rights Reserved - you may not use this image in any form without my prior permission.
For some time I've been thinking that if I was given a WWII battledress, Captain's cap and stick I could do a passable impression of Captain Mainwaring (on the left) with a little practice. Certainly, if I was invited to a fancy dress do I think I might give it a go. I can still watch the shows over and over and still find them funny.
You might notice that in recent times I've commented on the state of the world and the growing confusion I have for what is right and wrong, good and bad....... So when I saw a piece in The Daily Mail this morning I was easily able to slip into character and follow the dialogue below.
Now if you are not British, and not at least 40 you might not get this, so see if you can get in the swing of things by watching this clip before launching into the text below:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=JAAbw7udjMI
We're all going to be beheaded! DON'T PANIC! (A short play by Richard Littlejohn)
The Government wants to recruit a Dad’s Army squad of ex-military men to supplement overstretched police firearms and anti-terror officers. Why not just bring the Walmington-on-Sea platoon out of retirement? Enter Captain Mainwaring . . .
I say, Wilson, what are those peculiar flags doing hanging outside the church hall?
Flags, sir?
Yes, Wilson, flags. One is a hideous rainbow-coloured affair and the other is black and white and appears to be covered in badly-drawn Nazi warplanes.
They’re not warplanes, Mr Mainwaring. They’re sex aids.
Sex aids? One of them looks just like a V-1 flying bomb.
It’s not a doodlebug, sir, it’s called a Steely Dan.
Sounds lethal, Wilson. Hang on, how do you know what it’s called?
I accidentally found one in Mrs Pike’s sewing basket.
Sometimes I worry about you, Wilson. That still doesn’t explain why these flags are flying outside the church hall?
It was the vicar’s idea.
Has he been at the communion wine again?
No more than usual, sir. The rainbow flag is the official emblem of the Walmington-on-Sea LGBT committee.
What on earth is that?
It stands for Lesbians, Gays and, oh, I forget. Bi-something or other. And I think the ‘T’ is for Transvestites. Men who like dressing up in women’s clothing.
Like Old Mother Riley, you mean?
Not exactly, sir, no.
And what’s all this got to do with the vicar?
He’s chairman of the LGBT organising committee. They’re having a march through Walmington on Saturday, for Gay Pride week. They’re also protesting about British military aggression in the Middle East.
Not in my name, they’re not. We’ll soon see about that. Where is the vicar?
Conducting a marriage ceremony next door. Two women from the bowls club.
Who are they getting married to?
Each other, sir.
Good grief. And the vicar is performing the ceremony, you say? In the church, of all places? Is nothing sacred? I’ve always had my doubts about that man, Wilson. Bit of a nancy boy, if you ask me.
Oh, I don’t know. I think it’s rather sweet. Two women, or two men, getting married. To each other.
You would think that, Wilson. It’s exactly what I’d expect from you decadent, namby-pamby public-school types, just like that Old Etonian Prime Minister chum of yours.
Anyway, they’re having the reception in the church hall. So we’d better hurry up with the parade.
They can jolly well wait, Wilson. Don’t they know there’s a war on? Fall the men in, at the double.
Come along you chaps. Would you be so awfully kind as to get in line?
Now pay attention, men. As some of you may have heard on the Home Service, the barbarians are at the gate and the future of our scepterd isle is imperilled once more. The enemy hordes are massing on the other side of the Channel and it falls to us to form the first line of defence. Wilson, I want you to get down to the ferry terminal and arrest any suspicious character trying to sneak into Britain.
Do you think that’s wise, sir?
What do you mean?
Under the Human Rights Act we have to give asylum to anyone who turns up in Walmington-on-Sea claiming to be fleeing persecution.
You don’t believe any of that guff, do you? Trained assassins from Isil are pretending to be refugees in order to murder us all in our beds.
(Corporal Jones): Permission to interject, Mr Mainwaring.
Go ahead, Jones.
What’s Isil?
(Pike): It’s that shiny toilet paper, silly, ever so hard, like what you get at school and in public conveniences. My mum doesn’t like me using it, says it’s unhygienic and it don’t half chafe . . .
Shut up, Pike, you stupid boy. Anyway, that’s not Isil, that’s Izal. Isil, or Isis, or Islamic State, is a terrorist organisation dedicated to the overthrow of Western society. And it’s our job to stop them.
Excuse me, Mr Mainwaring.
What is it now, Wilson?
Apparently, we can’t call them Islamic State any more. The mayor has had a complaint from the local mosque saying that what’s going on in Syria hasn’t got anything to do with Islam.
So what are we supposed to call them?
Dish-dash, dish-cloth. Something like that.
I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous in all my life. Now get along to the ferry terminal and take Godfrey with you.
(Godfrey): My sister Dolly’s at the ferry terminal, Mr Mainwaring, handing out upside-down cakes to the migrants. She says they must be starving after travelling all the way from Afghanistan.
For heaven’s sake, man. We shouldn’t be rolling out the red carpet for these people. How do we know they’re not Fifth Columnists planning to attack sunbathers on Walmington beach?
(Jones): Permission to speak, sir. I’d like to volunteer to stop them, Mr Mainwaring. I served in Libya and the Sudan during the last lot. Fierce fighting people, they are, very keen on beheading. But they don’t like it up ’em, Mr Mainwaring. Those fuzzy-wuzzies do not like it up ’em.
(Wilson): Er, I don’t think we can say fuzzy-wuzzies any more, either. Not on the BBC. Terribly racist, these days.
I thought we’d already been banned from the BBC, Wilson.
Not yet, sir. That’s It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum.
So it is. Now then, men. I have received a letter from the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, who is anxious to recruit experienced snipers to supplement his firearms officers.
(Pike): I’d like to volunteer to be a sniper, Mr Mainwaring.
You haven’t got any experience, Pike.
I’ve seen that new film American Sniper at the Roxy, directed by Clint Eastwood and starring Bradley Cooper, who was in The Hangover and is now the Elephant Man, he’s this crack marksman who is sent to Iraq to kill terrorists and there’s this scene where he’s on a roof and he’s about to shoot the world’s most wanted man from about a mile away, but just as he’s taking aim his wife calls him on the mobile to moan about the fridge being broken or something, then he gets sent home suffering from PMT. It would have been better if it had starred Clint Eastwood as the sniper, even though he’s over 80, he was brilliant in Dirty Harry — ‘Go ahead, punk, make my day’ — and the special effects are great especially when people’s heads explode. I could do that, please Captain Mainwaring.
Stupid boy.
(Enter Private Walker): Evenin’, Mr Mainwaring, sorry I’m late.
Where have you been?
Well, I popped over to Calais on a booze cruise. You can save a small fortune if you know the right people, get my drift. Practically giving it away, they are. You won’t catch me voting to leave the EU in the referendum. I’ve got some very nice Beaujolais Nouveau, if you’re interested, fiver a bottle to you, Mr M . . .
Get on with it, Walker.
Anyway, when I got to the port to catch the ferry home, the lorries was all backed up for miles because of a strike and there was thousands of young foreign blokes trying to break into containers and hide in the luggage compartments of coaches. They was coming from all over the place, wave after wave, like in Zulu.
(Pike): That’s one of my favourites, Joe, with Michael Caine and Stanley Baker and Dave, the barman from Minder. Not a lot of people know that.
I won’t tell you again, Pike. Is there a point to this story, Walker?
Sorry, Captain. Anyway, this is three days ago. It was like we’d all been taken hostage. Finally, I gets back to the lock-up and as soon as I pull in, half a dozen geezers in black tracksuits and balaclavas jump out of the back of the van, waving Kalashnikovs, and starts running in the direction of the dual carriageway, shouting ‘Allo Acton’ or something. So I phones the Old Bill and Warden Hodges but they sez there’s nuffink they can do ’cos of yuman rites and elf’n’safety an’ that, and then they only goes an’ threatens to fine me two grand a head for bringing them in, bloody cheek. So I bungs ’em both a case of Chateau Collapso and Bob’s yer mother’s wossname. Them foreign geezers, though, whoever they are, probably half way to Toddington Services by now.
(Jones): We’re all going to be beheaded! Don’t panic! Don’t panic!
(Private Fraser): We’re doomed. We’re all doomed!
Given the fact that the Governor has shut down all bars and nightclubs, and given the fact that all stage shows have gone Dark at least until late September or October -- what is a Gent to do on the Fabulous Las Vegas Strip between the hours of 5pm and 5am?
Eat Well! And Drink Well!!
Even on a Monday night in the midst of the COVID-19 Global Pandemic, one can still eat well and drink well on the Strip! You can order cocktails and drinks in any lounge that also serves bar food. And even though most restaurants are running on short staff and on short hours, there's still some very fine dining to be done here!
But you must wear your face mask and exercise Social Distancing!
Sooner or later your very lovely lady will call you from back home for her daily report, and you had better have some good answers for her!
I've been trying for ages to get a macro of one petal. While I was having yet another go yesterday a very nice woman helped by holding the flower stem steady.
I've given up on an individual petal for the moment, but here's the plant. Madame thought it was a wild Orchid, I thought so too, but please correct me.
This is the best example of the flower I have, but have added a photo of the leaf and a more general shot of the whole plant in comments.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stachys_sylvatica
Thank you to Hornbeam Arts for the correct ID.
Much more fun viewed large.
Thank you for your favourites. :O)
"How would I know to seek a greater way of living
If I had not been misunderstood and cast out
If I didn’t have to let go of everything that mattered
To find my life and lose it all over again
If the land around me had not dried up and denied me
And emptied out my accounts
How would I know the hunger that comes
If my dream had not eluded me and faded into the shadows
Leaving me void of meaning and purpose
How would I know the thirst to know myself
If I had not fallen hard onto my knees
Too exhausted to take another step
Too ashamed to ask for help
How would I know that ache or want
Which is in itself an answer hurling itself upon the heart
Invoking there a new blossoming of sound and feeling
Erecting a new earth that shapes itself in and around my Being
How would I know this gift of Grace without the pain of desire
How otherwise would these songs of joy and courage have come"
Ganga Fondan, 2009
This posting is once again inspired by my Mentor’s message. This week’s seminar with Tulshi Sen was a great reminder to look at the correlation of what I desire and how I love. Where do my desires come from: my head or my heart? He explained: “Every Vision is a product of love”. He went on to challenge us on the different aspects of love such as self-serving, co-operative or unselfish unconditional love. The way we love is our pattern of thinking and through this lens we feel what we want in life. In my own experience, this lens comes more into focus as I practice the meditations given in: “Ancient Secrets of Success for Today’s World.” I realize that what seemed so hard and impossible many times in my life were actually gateways to a deeper self-awareness and trust. Only emptied will I discover the wealth of my true heart’s desire.
©All photographs on this site are copyright: DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams) 2011 – 2020 & GETTY IMAGES ®
No license is given nor granted in respect of the use of any copyrighted material on this site other than with the express written agreement of DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams) ©
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I would like to say a huge and heartfelt 'THANK YOU' to GETTY IMAGES, and the 36.018+ Million visitors to my FLICKR site.
***** Selected for sale in the GETTY IMAGES COLLECTION on April 27th 2020
CREATIVE RF gty.im/1220714306 MOMENT ROYALTY FREE COLLECTION**
This photograph became my 4,238th frame to be selected for sale in the Getty Images collection and I am very grateful to them for this wonderful opportunity.
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This Ten seconds long exposure was taken at 04.15am on a beautiful mist filled Springtime morning in the Golden hour around sunrise (Sunrise was at precisely 05.44am), at an altitude of Twenty fivemetres on Friday 24th April 2020, off Bexley Lane and Rectory Lane within Foots Cray Meadows in Bexley, Kent.
After weeks of self isolation due to the global pandemic that we know as COVID-19 Coronavirus, we are allowed to go out for exercise once per day and keep away from others. A walk in the misty meadows today to taste the fresh air and get my limbs moving again.
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Nikon D850 Focal length 35mm Shutter speed: Ten seconds long exposure Aperture f/13.0 iso64 Image area FX (36 x 24) NEF RAW L (8256 x 5504). NEF RAW L (14 bit uncompressed) Image size L (8256 x 5504 FX). Focus mode AF-C focus. AF-C Priority Selection: Release. Nikon Back button focusing enabled. AF-S Priority selection: Focus. 3D Tracking watch area: Normal 55 Tracking points.AF-Area mode single point & 73 point switchable. Exposure mode: Manual exposure. Matrix metering. Auto ISO sensitivity control on (Max iso 800/ Miniumum shutter speed 125). White blance on: Auto1. Colour space: RGB. Actve D-lighting: Normal. Vignette control: Normal. Nikon Distortion control: Enabled. Picture control: Auto (Sharpening A +1/Clarity A+1
Nikkor AF-S 24-120mm f/4G ED VR. Lee filters SW150 holder. Lee filters SW150 77mm screw in adapter ring. Lee filters SW150 0.6 (2stops) ND Grad Soft resin filter. Mcoplus professional MB-D850 multi function battery grip 6960.Two Nikon EN-EL15a batteries (Priority to battery in Battery grip). Matin quick release neckstrap. My Memory 128GB Class 10 SDXC 80MB/s card. Lowepro Flipside 400 AW camera bag. Nikon GP-1 GPS module. Hoodman HEYENRG round eyepiece oversized eyecup.
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LATITUDE: N 51d 25m 21.79s
LONGITUDE: E 0d 7m 14.78s
ALTITUDE: 25.0m
RAW (TIFF) FILE: 130.00MB NEF: 90.3MB
PROCESSED (JPeg) FILE: 37.20MB
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PROCESSING POWER:
Nikon D850 Firmware versions C 1.10 (9/05/2019) LD Distortion Data 2.018 (18/02/20) LF 1.00
HP 110-352na Desktop PC with AMD Quad-Core A6-5200 APU 64Bit processor. Radeon HD8400 graphics. 8 GB DDR3 Memory with 1TB Data storage. 64-bit Windows 10. Verbatim USB 2.0 1TB desktop hard drive. WD My Passport Ultra 1tb USB3 Portable hard drive. Nikon ViewNX-1 64bit Version 1.4.1 (18/02/2020). Nikon Capture NX-D 64bit Version 1.6.2 (18/02/2020). Nikon Picture Control Utility 2 (Version 2.4.5 (18/02/2020). Nikon Transfer 2 Version 2.13.5. Adobe photoshop Elements 8 Version 8.0 64bit.
©All photographs on this site are copyright: ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams) 2011 – 2021 & GETTY IMAGES ®
No license is given nor granted in respect of the use of any copyrighted material on this site other than with the express written agreement of ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams). No image may be used as source material for paintings, drawings, sculptures, or any other art form without permission and/or compensation to ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams)
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I would like to say a huge and heartfelt 'THANK YOU' to GETTY IMAGES, and the 45.208+ Million visitors to my FLICKR site.
***** Selected for sale in the GETTY IMAGES COLLECTION on Friday 10th February 2023
CREATIVE RF gty.im/1455733269 MOMENT ROYALTY FREE COLLECTION**
This photograph became my 5,863rd frame to be selected for sale in the Getty Images collection and I am very grateful to them for this wonderful opportunity.
©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams)
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Photograph taken at an altitude of Four metres, at 14:03pm on Monday 9th January 2023, off the Mall and Horse Guards Road within the grounds of St James's Park in Central London, one of the Royal parks of London situated in South West London.
Here we see an adult Red-breasted goose (Branta ruficollis) from Eurasia, and sadly currently classified as vulnerable. This goose is an example of hybrid specification, being the result of ancient interbreeding between the Brant goose and the white cheeked goose, some 3.5 million years ago.
Nikon D850 Single-lens reflex digital camera F Mount with FX CMOS 35.9mm x 23.9mm Image sensor 46.89 Million total pixels Focal length 260mm Shutter speed: 1/125s Aperture f/5.6 iso200 Hand held with no Tamron vibration control set Image area Full Frame FX (36 x 24) NEF RAW L 45.4Million pixels (8256 x 5504) 14 bit uncompressed AF-C Priority Selection: Release Nikon Back button focusing enabled 3D Tracking watch area: Normal 55 Tracking points Exposure mode: Manual mode Metering mode: Matrix metering Active D-Lighting: Auto Vignette control: ON Normal White balance on: Auto1, 0, 0 Normal (4650k) Colour space: Adobe RGB Picture control: (SD) Standard (Sharpening +3) High ISO Noise Reduction NR: Normal
Tamron SP 150-600mm F/5-6.3 Di VC USD G2. Nikon GP-1 GPS module. Lee SW150 MKII filter holder. Lee SW150 95mm screw in adapter ring. Lee SW150 circular polariser glass filter.Lee SW150 Filters field pouch. Hoodman HEYENRG round eyepiece oversized eyecup. Mcoplus professional MB-D850 multi function battery grip 6960.Two Nikon EN-EL15a batteries (Priority to battery in Battery grip). Black Rapid Curve Breathe strap. My Memory 128GB Class 10 SDXC 80MB/s card. Lowepro Flipside 400 AW camera bag.
LATITUDE: N 51d 30m 9.10s
LONGITUDE: W 0d 8m 8.50s
ALTITUDE: 4.0m
RAW (TIFF) FILE: 130.00MB NEF: 63.9MB
PROCESSED (JPeg) FILE: 26.60MB
PROCESSING POWER:
Nikon D850 Firmware versions C 1.21 (8/12/2022) LD Distortion Data 2.018 (16/01/20) LF 1.00 Nikon Codec Full version 1.31.2 (09/11/2021)
HP 110-352na Desktop PC with Windows 10 Home edition AMD Quad-Core A6-5200 APU 64Bit processor. Radeon HD8400 graphics. 8 GB DDR3 Memory with 1TB Data storage. 64-bit Windows 10. My Passport USB 3.0 2TB portable desktop hard drive. Nikon NX STUDIO 64bit Version 1.2.2 (08/12/2022). Nikon Capture NX-D 64bit Version 1.6.2 (18/02/2020). Nikon Picture Control Utility 2 (Version 2.4.5 (18/02/2020). Nikon Transfer 2 Version 2.16.0 (08/12/2022). Adobe photoshop Elements 8 Version 8.0 64bit.
Fluorite crystal. An experimental shot from some material given to me by the Geology Division at USGS. Realizing that I need to wash these specimens before taking their pictures! Right now just playing around with light set ups and photoshopping...comments welcome. Photograph by Brooke Alexender.
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All photographs are public domain, feel free to download and use as you wish.
Photography Information: Canon Mark II 5D, Zerene Stacker, Stackshot Sled, 65mm Canon MP-E 1-5X macro lens, Twin Macro Flash in Styrofoam Cooler, F5.0, ISO 100, Shutter Speed 200
Beauty is truth, truth beauty - that is all
Ye know on earth and all ye need to know
" Ode on a Grecian Urn"
John Keats
You can also follow us on Instagram account USGSBIML Want some Useful Links to the Techniques We Use? Well now here you go Citizen:
Art Photo Book: Bees: An Up-Close Look at Pollinators Around the World
www.qbookshop.com/products/216627/9780760347386/Bees.html...
Basic USGSBIML set up:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=S-_yvIsucOY
USGSBIML Photoshopping Technique: Note that we now have added using the burn tool at 50% opacity set to shadows to clean up the halos that bleed into the black background from "hot" color sections of the picture.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bdmx_8zqvN4
PDF of Basic USGSBIML Photography Set Up:
ftp://ftpext.usgs.gov/pub/er/md/laurel/Droege/How%20to%20Take%20MacroPhotographs%20of%20Insects%20BIML%20Lab2.pdf
Google Hangout Demonstration of Techniques:
plus.google.com/events/c5569losvskrv2nu606ltof8odo
or
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4c15neFttoU
Excellent Technical Form on Stacking:
Contact information:
Sam Droege
sdroege@usgs.gov
301 497 5840
Website | Portfolio | Blog | 500px | Facebook | Twitter | Google+
Copyright © Dave DiCello 2014 All Rights Reserved.
A collection of shots of Pittsburgh from the end of winter 2014 and the beginning of spring, when Pirates baseball starts and the fountain at Point State Park is turned back on.
"Let us remember that, as much has been given us, much will be expected from us, and that true homage comes from the heart as well as from the lips, and shows itself in deeds."
~Theodore Roosevelt
Existential planes are not given conditions but levels of intensity of metaphysical seeing (sanskrit vidya).
The wisdom of non-differentiation is superior to the wisdom of differentiation, but it could not be achieved without the wisdom of differentiation. Therefore the wisdom of differentiation should precede the wisdom of non-differentiation.
5. How can it be imagined about the one who is unable to surmount his own education and the effects of his family, schooling and mass communication that he can surmount that which will arise as ontic bondage on his spiritual way?
6. To eliminate his defective judgements of value man should attend to a process of radical autocorrection in the course of which every earlier view should be rejected, and then that which stands the test of the new view should be reaccepted.
9. Not only a view but a way of looking; not only a view of the world but a way of looking at the world; not only a Weltanschauung (world view) but world contemplation; not only structure and frame but a living process…
32. Spiritual and theistic Weltanschauungs should be markedly different from materialistic and atheistic ones in each aspect of life: in eating, sleeping, walking but first of all in their views.
39. There is but one true normality: the normality of the centre.
40. If the knowledge related to the centre is lacking, then in fact the knowledge related to the periphery is lacking as well.
52. Beyond a certain level there can not be external or internal any more. There is no external or internal - for in relation to the limit of consciousness everything is inside and in relation to the centre of consciousness everything is outside.
53. Existential planes are not given conditions but levels of intensity of metaphysical seeing (sanskrit vidya).
56. The wisdom of non-differentiation is superior to the wisdom of differentiation, but it could not be achieved without the wisdom of differentiation. Therefore the wisdom of differentiation should precede the wisdom of non-differentiation.
57. Things can only be united if they have previously been separated.
62. Earth can essentially be in touch with Heaven (the Motionless Mover) only where it is not in motion - i. e. at the poles.
64. In the cosmos the spirit manifests itself as light. When Christ says that »I am the light of the cosmos«, it means that He is the light of the cosmos which is beyond the cosmos - that is to say, He is the spirit of the cosmos but this spirit is beyond the cosmos.
65. The material world is essentially a spiritual world. What does »spiritual« mean? Does that mean that it is more subtle than material? It also means that but the main point is something else. The world is spiritual if the fact that it is in the consciousness becomes evident.
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Metaphysical aphorisms by András László
www.tradicio.org/english/solumipsum.htm
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Painting by Giovanni di Paolo
©All photographs on this site are copyright: ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams) 2011 – 2021 & GETTY IMAGES ®
No license is given nor granted in respect of the use of any copyrighted material on this site other than with the express written agreement of ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams). No image may be used as source material for paintings, drawings, sculptures, or any other art form without permission and/or compensation to ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams)
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I would like to say a huge and heartfelt 'THANK YOU' to GETTY IMAGES, and the 43.517+ Million visitors to my FLICKR site.
***** Selected for sale in the GETTY IMAGES COLLECTION on Wednesday 28th September 2022
CREATIVE RF gty.im/1427501105 MOMENT ROYALTY FREE COLLECTION**
This photograph became my 5,675th frame to be selected for sale in the Getty Images collection and I am very grateful to them for this wonderful opportunity.
©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams)
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Photograph taken at 14:45pm on Monday 9th September 2019 at the Nk'Mip Desert Cultural Centre, north of the Nk'Mip Winery, in Osoyoos, in one of the most endangered ecosystems in Canada, the northernmost point of the Great American desert.
I was very fortunate to be asked if I wished to watch the rattlesnake eat a mouse by a handler who was incredibly knowledgeable on her subject matter. The snake chose to digest the mouse head last, and after consumption flexed its jaws to rest them after devouring such large prey. Contrary to popular belief, rattlesnakes do not dislocate their jaws to eat large prey.
The Western Rattlesnake (Crotalus oreganus) is also known as the northern Pacific rattlesnake and the Pacific rattlesnake and is a venomous pit viper found in North America, British Columbia, Mexico and the United States of America. They can grow to five feet in length but generally are much smaller and threatened by man's incursion into their habitat.
It is worse to be bitten by juveniles which have yet to learn how much venom to administer in a single bite, thus they release all of their venom with obviously dire consequences for the victim!
People of the Okanagan Nation Alliance live in eight communities in the interior of British Columbia, Canada and Washington, USA and more than four hundred band members work and live on the Osoyoos Indian Reserve in which Nk’mip Desert Cultural Centre is located.
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Nikon D850. Focal length 100mm Shutter speed 1/800s Aperture f/4.0 iso1600 RAW (14 bit uncompressed) Image size L (8256 x 5504 FX). Hand held with Nikon VR Vibration reduction set to normal. Focus mode AF-C focus 51 point with 3D- tracking. AF-Area mode single point & 73 point switchable. Exposure mode - Aperture priority exposure. Nikon Back button focusing enabled. Matrix metering. ISO Sensitivity: Auto. White balance: Natural light auto. Colour space Adobe RGB. Nikon Distortion control on. Picture control: Auto. High ISO NR on. Vignette control: normal. Active D-lighting Auto.
Nikkor AF-S 24-120mm f/4G ED VR. . Lee SW150 MKII filter holder. Lee SW150 77mm screw in adapter ring. Lee SW150 Circular polarizer glass filter. Lee SW150 Filters field pouch. Nikon EN-EL15a battery.Mcoplus professional MB-D850 multi function battery grip 6960. Matin quick release neckstrap. My Memory 128GB Class 10 SDXC 80MB/s card. Lowepro Flipside 400 AW camera bag. Hoodman HEYENRG round eyepiece oversized eyecup.Manfrotto 055XPROB Tripod 3 Sections (Payload: 5.6kgs). Manfrotto 327RC2 Light Duty Grip Ball Magnesium Tripod Head (Payload: 5.5kgs). Manfrotto quick release plate 200PL-14. Jessops Tripod bag.Nikon MC-DC2 remote shutter release cable.
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RAW (TIFF) FILE: 130.00MB NEF: 92.1MB
PROCESSED (JPeg) FILE: 15.60MB
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PROCESSING POWER:
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Our Lady of Loudes at the National Shrine in Retiro
Our Lady of Lourdes was the title given to the Blessed Virgin Mary when she appeared in a vision with St. Bernadette in Lourdes, France.
[edit] Origin
Bernadette Soubirous was the daughter of a flour miller in Lourdes, France. When affliction hit their family, they had to move to a former jail house. Bernadette's aunt took her and brought her to another village to do household chores and to study catechism. Being simple and illiterate, she did not learn much. Back in Lourdes, while she was accumulating firewood together with her sister, Antoinette, and Jeanne, her neighbor, they took a road that brought them to an intersection between a river and a mill. Fearing that her asthma would attack, Bernadette slowly took off her socks and crossed the river with her companions who went ahead.
Our Lady appeared to Bernadette in a vision with a strong blast of wind and sparks of light. She looked up towards the grotto. She tried to brush off the image with her rosary. To her astonishment, the Lady brought out her own rosary and prayed along with her. There were 18 apparitions that transpired, each event closely following the other and capturing Bernadette in a trance. Their sequence is as follows:
February 11, 1858 - Bernadette prayed the rosary with Our Lady.
February 14, 1858 - Our Lady came closer to Bernadette to establish her heavenly origins.
February 18, 1858 - Fellowship members came along with Bernadette to validate Our Lady's messages. Our Lady asked Bernadette to come back to the grotto with a lighted candle, promising eternal salvation.
February 19, 1858 (4th to 14th apparitions) - Our Lady asked for prayers, sacrifice and for sinners to repent. She ordered Bernadette dig at the ground, and a spring immediately bubbled up and soon gushed forth. She wished for a chapel to be built on the spot and processions to be made to the grotto. Many ill people came to plunge into the spring water and recovered instantly. Fr. Perymale, Bernadette's pastor, sent her off to ask what the Lady's name was.
March 25, 1858 - Our Lady declared that she was the Immaculate Conception.
April 7, 1858 - During this apparition, Bernadette unknowingly held her hands for hours in the candle without being burned.
The apparitions at Lourdes led the Pope to recognize the Dogma of the Immaculate Conception on December 8, 1854. According to the dogma, Mary was conceived without original sin.
Bernadette lived with her parents for two years after the apparition before joining the sisters of Charity at Nevers, France. She died of asthma, tuberculosis and bone impairment at the age of thirty five.
[edit] Image
Our Lady of Lourdes is dressed in white with white veil, blue belt and yellow rose on the feet. Three elements of nature are associated with Lourdes. The element of water which was dug up by St. Bernadette, the element of fire from the candle that Mary asked Bernadette to light, and the rocky cave where Our Lady appeared.
[edit] Veneration
The image of Our Lady of Lourdes in the Philippines is venerated all over the country, particularly at the Lourdes Shrine in Quezon City. Another place of devotion is at the Lourdes Grotto in Baguio City with its long flight of steps going up the hill. The country's locally carved Lourdes image was operated by the Order of the Friars Minor Capuchins (OFM Cap) headed by Fr. Bernardo of Cleza. Filipino sculptor, Manuel Flores, carved the statue for the Capuchin's garden grotto, which was later transferred to a side altar inside the Capuchin chapel in Intramuros, Manila. The Confraternity of Lourdes was established in the chapel in May 1893, because the image has attracted a large number of devotees.
In 1894, Fr. Cleza instructed Flores to make a bigger statue of the Virgin. Many miraculous recoveries occurred before the statue. Eventually, the Capuchin chapel was made into a church wherein the image had been installed. The church was gutted by fire during the World War II but the statue of the Virgin was left unharmed.
After the war, the Capuchins bought a new property on Retiro St. Quezon City which became the permanent location of the Lourdes Church in the Philippines. It was blessed on August 15, 1951. It was declared an Archdiocesan Shrine in February 1987. It was declared a National Shrine by the Catholic Bishops' Conference of the Philippines on January 30, 1996.
[edit] The Archonfraternity of Lourdes in The Philippines (Arch-Con)
The Archonfraternity of Lourdes in The Philippines was established at the same time the Lourdes devotion was launched in the 1890s. There are a couple of hundred confraternities under the Arch-con that meet twice a year for the Marian Symposia and once every two years for the national convention. The feast of Lourdes is celebrated every February 11 wherein a grand penitential procession is held at dawn by the devotees holding lighted torches on bare feet while chanting canticles.
Name: Alexander George
Arrested for: not given
Arrested at: North Shields Police Station
Arrested on: 17 January 1907
Tyne and Wear Archives ref: DX1388-1-101-Alexander George
The Shields Daily News for 19 January 1907 reports:
“THEFT IN A NORTH SHIELDS SCHOOL. YOUTH SENT FOR 14 DAYS.
At North Shields Police Court today, Alex. George (17), residing in Norfolk Street, was charged with stealing a purse containing 7s 6d belonging to Margaret Riddell, at St Joseph’s school, Tyne Street, on the 15th inst.
Margaret Riddell, teacher, deposed to missing the purse from a pocket in her jacket which was hanging in the class room. This was at play time in the afternoon. After the school closed the children picked up an empty purse outside.
Detective Sergt. Hall said he arrested the accused at 6½ Norfolk Street and charged him. He replied “Yes, I took it. I was dying of hunger but I turned afraid afterwards and took it back and gave it to a little girl”. Accused now said he was very sorry and promised to repay the money if he was given a chance. Sergt Hall said the lad had been in three situations in four months and had lost them through laziness. Prisoner made his seventh appearance and was committed for 14 days.”
The Shields Daily News for 24 April 1903 contains the details of an earlier case.
“THEFT BY BOYS.
Alexander George (13), James George (11), Henry Crow (13), Robert Charters (8), Montgomery Bryden (9) and Andrew Dodds (11), Stephenson Street, were charged with stealing a rabbit, valued at 1s 6d, from a backyard at 137 Linskill Street, the property of Sarah Spurling. Prosecutrix said that she missed a rabbit from her back premises, on the date named.
Alfred Hodgson, an assistant with Mr Kelday, poulterer, Camden Street, said that Charters brought the rabbit to the shop and offered to sell it, saying his father was out of work. He gave him 6d for it and afterwards handed it over to the police. Detective Sergt. Scougal said he arrested and charged the accused. They admitted participating in the theft and in sharing the proceeds.
Alex. George, James George, Andrew Dodds and Robt. Charters were then charged with stealing three pigeons, valued at 5s, from the backyard of 37 Jackson Street, on the 21st inst. William Williamson, a boy, said at 6.30pm on the 21st inst. he had a number of pigeons in a dovecot at the house of his parents. At 7pm they were missing. The birds were worth 5s. Later he went to a pigeon shop in the Borough Road and there identified two of them. Det.-Sergt. Scougal said he charged the accused and they admitted stealing the pigeons and selling two. The whole of the prisoners were ordered to be birched”.
For an image of James George see www.flickr.com/photos/twm_news/23169309290/in/album-72157....
These images are a selection from an album of photographs of prisoners brought before the North Shields Police Court between 1902 and 1916 in the collection of Tyne & Wear Archives (TWA ref DX1388/1).
This set contains mugshots of boys and girls under the age of 21. This reflects the fact that until 1970 that was the legal age of majority in the UK.
(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.
Since I have given you all a steady diet of tulip images to view, I thought I would give you another one.. ;-)
I just wanted to take this opportunity to thank all of my friends.. and you all know who you are. Thank you all so much for visiting my stream so faithfully and for your wonderful comments and encouragement and love. You all inspire me to greater levels in my photography. I just love being involved with people like you all. Your wonderful people and you deserve to be thanked. I don't always get around to thanking everyone for their involvement with my photography and for being the kind people that you are..
So, this image is dedicated to every single friend both new to my site and the ones that have been with me for so long now. I appreciate you all so very much.. :-)
The Church of Saint-Germain-des-Prés (French pronunciation: [sɛ̃ ʒɛʁmɛ̃ de pʁe]) is a Catholic parish church located in the Saint-Germain-des-Prés quarter of Paris. It was originally the church of a Benedictine abbey founded in 558 by Childebert I, the son of Clovis, King of the Franks. The abbey was destroyed by the Vikings, rebuilt, and renamed in the 8th century for Saint Germain, a 6th century bishop. It was rebuilt with elements in the new Gothic style in the 11th century, and was given the earliest flying buttresses in the Ile de France in the 12th century. It is considered the oldest existing church in Paris.
Originally located outside the walls of medieval Paris, in the fields and meadows of the Left Bank, known as "les Prés", the church was the center of an important abbey complex, famous for its scholarship and its production of illuminated manuscripts, and was the burial place of Germain, and also of Childebert and other rulers of the Merovingian Dynasty. Most of the Abbey, except for the chapel and the Bishop's palace, was destroyed during the French Revolution. The chapel was subsequently restored and became the parish church.
History
Origins
A Roman temple was located close to the site of the church, and a Roman road, parallel to the Seine, passed by the site, built well above the river to avoid flooding.
The abbey was founded in the 6th century by Childebert I (ruled 511–558), the son of Clovis I, the first King of the Franks. It was built especially to display two important relics acquired by Childebert during the siege of Zaragoza in Spain; a fragment of the True Cross and a fragment of the tunic of the martyr Saint Vincent. The first abbot was Droctovaeus, a pupil of the Bishop Saint Germain.
The abbey was formally dedicated in 558, the same year that Childebert died. His tomb was placed within the church and the Abbey became the first necropolis for the tombs of the early Kings of France, before this function was transferred to the Basilica of Saint-Denis. The basilica and the monastery were first dedicated to the Holy Cross and to Saint Vincent, then, in about 754, to Saint Germain of Paris, a noted bishop of Paris whose tomb was placed in the church in 576. The tombs were later removed, and no medieval tombs remain in the church.
The church and monastery were destroyed twice by the Vikings during their invasions at the end of the 9th century. The abbey church was rebuilt by the Abbé Morard at the 10th century, and the rest of the monastery by the end of the 13th century. The first four levels of the bell tower, the nave and the transept date from this period. A number of carved column capitals and vestiges of frescoes from this period are also found in the church.
The abbey was used by French monarchs to host visiting kings, such as King Edward I of England in 1286 who used it as a base whilst visiting Philip IV of France in the Louvre
Under royal patronage the Abbey became one of the most important centers of scholarship in Europe. In the Eleventh century it housed an important scriptorium which produced scholarly manuscripts which were distributed throughout Europe. It remained a center of spiritual, intellectual and artistic activity until the end of the 18th century.
The Gothic Church
Beginning in the 12th century, the church was updated with elements of the new style of Gothic architecture. The present choir of the church was built in the middle of the 12th century. The newly rebuilt church was consecrated by Pope Alexander III on 21 April 1163, The flying buttresses, the first in the Ile-de-France, were added at the end of the 12th century. The other buildings of the monastery were gradually rebuilt during the 13th century. These included a new Abbey church by architect Pierre de Montreuil inspired by the newly built Saint Chapelle. This new "Lady Chapel" was demolished in 1802, shortly after the end of the French Revolution, though vestiges remain in the small park on Rue de l'Abbaye next to the entrance to the Church.
The abbey church's west end tower was pierced by a portal, completed in the twelfth century, which collapsed in 1604 and was replaced in 1606 by the present classicising portal, by Marcel Le Roy. Its choir, with its apsidal east end, provides an early example of flying buttresses.
The Wall of Philip II Augustus built during the reign of Philip II of France (1200–1214) did not encompass the abbey, leaving the residents to fend for themselves. This also had the effect of splitting the Abbey's holdings into two. A new refectory was built for the monastery by Pierre de Montreuil between 1239 and 1244.
In 1621, a new order of Benedictine Monks, the Congregation of Saint Maur, was founded at Saint-Germain. They were particularly devoted to research and scholarship, They trained monks to collect and study texts on varied subjects and produced very fine illuminated manuscripts, which circulated throughout Europe, and made Paris one of the leading academic centres of the continent.
Until the late 17th century, the Abbey owned most of the land in the Left Bank west of the current Boulevard Saint-Michel and had administrative autonomy in it, most clearly for the part outside the walls of Paris. Louis-César de Bourbon, son of Louis XIV and Madame de Montespan, was an abbot here. The tomb of philosopher René Descartes is located in one of the church's side chapels.
The abbey during the Revolution
In September 1792, during the French Revolution, a group of about one hundred priests, who refused to sign a declaration of loyalty to the new Revolutionary government, were being held in the Abbey prison, along with aristocrats who had been arrested by the Jacobins, and Swiss Guards who had survived an earlier massacre. In September 1792, news arrived in Paris that a Prussian army was marching toward the city. On September 2 The Revolutionary leader Georges Danton gave a speech to his assembled followers on the Champ de Mars, declaring "We ask that anyone refusing to give personal service or to furnish arms shall be punished with death."
Danton's followers moved immediately to the prison of the Abbey to carry out Danton's proposal. Between September 2 and September 6, the prisoners were rapidly tried; they were asked why they had been arrested, and then quickly sentenced. Those sentenced to death included twenty-two priests, a number of Swiss guards who had survived an earlier massacre at the Tuileries Palace, as well as a number of women, including the Princesse de Lamballe. The prisoners sentenced to death were taken outside one by one, where they were killed by a crowd armed with swords, pikes and axes. Of the Swiss Guard prisoners 135 were killed, 27 were transferred, 86 were set free, and 22 had uncertain fates.
During the rest of the Revolutionary period, The abbey and the church were closed, and the buildings were used for storage and manufacturing gunpowder and arms. Part of the church was turned into a workshop for refining niter, an ingredient of gunpowder. It exploded accidentally, causing serious damage to the church and other abbey buildings.
With the end of the Revolution, The Catholic Church was officially re-established on 31 May 1795, and the ruined building again became a church. In 1802 The Council of Civil Buildings debated whether to simply sell and then demolish the building, which was badly damaged by the saltpetre leaking down into the foundations. Finally, due to the building's long history, they decided to preserve the building, though they declared that the architecture "offers nothing particularly interesting regarding art." The only buildings remaining intact were the church and the palace of the Bishops, next to it. These were formally returned to the church in on 29 April 1803. The Chapel of the Virgin Mary, more seriously damaged, was demolished, though some of the stained glass windows were saved. Some flamboyant arches from the Virgin Chapel can be seen today in the small park next to the church.
After the Revolution, historical excavations resumed. Alexandre Lenoir discovered two Merovingian tombs under the main altar in 1799. These were moved to the Cluny Museum. Other art works were restored to the church, while the Louvre received the marble columns of the altar in 1704. The paintings which had been moved to Versailles, were restored to the church. Other works recovered included the marble statue of the Virgin given to the Louvre by Queen Jeanne d'Evreux.
The saltpetre stored in the church during the Revolution had badly damaged the pilings on the north side, and the nave itself could not be used. The Council of Buildings considered simply demolishing the building, but the inspector-general, Mazois, insisted that the choir could be saved and the nave restored. In the summer of 1822 the upper levels of the towers on the north and south sides of the church, largely in ruins, were demolished down to the roof line, leaving the church with a single tower. The chapels of the disambulatory and the six flying buttresses of the apse were rebuilt in 1823.
Restoration and redecoration
By 1824, the restoring group had assembled marble columns and stained glass windows from other Paris buildings destroyed during the Revolution buildings, which had been fortunately preserved in the Museum of French Monuments. In 1843, the artist Hippolyte Flandrin began the largest project of all, the redecoration of the nave. This was not a restoration, but a re-imagination of a medieval church. For this purpose he employed colourful frescoes illustrating scenes of the Old Testament which announced the coming life of Christ. His work was carried out between 1856 and 1861. The murals themselves were surrounded by very elaborate painted settings, using gold stars against azure backgrounds and painted architecture. During the same period, the architect Baltard commissioned sculptors to make new capitals for the columns of the arcades in the nave, choir and apse, based on the medieval originals stored in the Cluny Museum. The new capitals and column themselves were also brightly coloured. The paintings and decoration dominated the architecture.
Baltard extended the decoration to include the furnishings; he designed new choir stalls, while Lassus designed a new carved wooden enclosure for the apse. The original stained glass windows had been destroyed during the Revolution. The glass artist Gérente designed new stained glass windows for the chevet based on the drawings of Flandrin.
From 1848 to 1853, Baltard restored the top level of the western tower, opening up the bays, and remaking the columns and other architectural features, but leaving nothing of the original 12th century work.
From 2017 to 2020. the City of Paris and the church carried out a major restoration of the interior of the building, particularly the 19th century murals in the nave, whose original colours had faded. This was funded jointly by the French state and donors from the Parish. Between 2021 and 2022, a second phase is underway to restore the paintings in the disambulatory and the chapels at the east end of the church.
Ownership
Like Notre Dame de Paris and all the other churches of Paris built before 1905, the building of Saint-Germain-de-Pres is owned by the French State, with exclusive usage granted to the Catholic Church.
Exterior
At the time of the French Revolution the Church had three bell towers; the present tower of the church and its porch is the only one that remains. It was built beginning in 990, making it one of the oldest bell towers in France. Its square form, with reinforcements at the corners, is in the style of a medieval fortress. The upper level of the tower was rebuilt in a Neo-Gothic style in the 19th century.
The west porch and portico of the church dates to the 17th century, and has little decoration. Within it are some vestiges of the 12th-century entrance of the church, including some columns with sculpture, a sculpture in relief of the Last Supper on the tympanum, and capitals on the columns decorated with sculpted harpies, half-woman, half-bird figures.
On the south side of the church, along Boulevard Saint-Germain, the walls and vaults are supported by a row of flying buttresses from the end of the 12th century, the first in the Ile-de-France region.
Interior
The interior of the church had some peculiar features, due to the evolution of styles over the centuries. The oldest parts of the church, the Romanesque bell tower and portal at the west end, were slightly out of alignment with the nave and the rest of the church. The nave was Romanesque on its lower levels, with rounded arches and windows and engaged pillars and columns, but Gothic at the top level, with four-part rib vaults installed in the middle of the 17th century. The interior decoration is predominantly baroque, with illusions of movement in both the architecture and decoration. The nave is bordered with small chapels, and concludes with the choir, where the clergy worshipped, and where the altar is located. Unlike earlier churches, where the majority of colour was provided by the stained glass windows, the colour in Saint-Germaine comes from the frescoes that cover the walls and arches, and the abundance of sculpture, painting and other decoration.
The West Portal
The Gothic west portal, sheltered within a more recent porch, dates to the 12th century. Over the doorway is a sculpture of the Last Supper; the faces of the Apostles were smashed with hammers during the French Revolution. This is flanked by two sets of columns whose capitals depict harpies. half-woman, half-bird creatures who symbolised storm winds.
The Nave
The church was begun in Romanesque period and has been continuously modified, making it a virtual catalog of French religious architectural styles, from the Romanesque to the Gothic, neoclassical and Gothic revival. Some of the elements of the original, such as the capitals of the columns in the arcades of the nave, were in poor condition and have been moved to the Cluny Museum of the Middle Ages. They have been replaced by very colorful copies, which along with the restored murals, try to recapture the spirit of the original church.
During the 19th century restoration of the church, the neoclassical artist Hippolyte Flandrin was selected to design the overall decor. He directed a team of artists, who painted the colourful murals and elaborate decorative works that harmonise with the large paintings in the chapels along the nave and choir.
Beginning in 2020, a major restoration and renovation of the murals in the nave began, and was largely completed by 2022. It will be followed by renovation of the murals in the choir.
The Choir
The Choir of the church, the area where the clergy worships, was created in the mid-12th century. Its elevation is modeled after Sens Cathedral, the first entirely Gothic cathedral in France. The vaults have four-part Gothic rib vaults, The choir is lined with the columns of the arcades, whose capitals are decorated with sculpted mythical figures; griffins, the sphinx and acanthus leaves, drawing upon the symbols of earlier myths and religions. The lower aisle on the right side displays a marble statue of the Virgin Mary from the 14th century; originally in Notre-Dame Cathedral, it was moved to Saint-Germain in 1802, and attracts visitors by the tender and expressive faces and pose of the Virgin and child.
The renovation of the colourful murals in the choir was set to begin in 2022, following the renovation of the murals in the nave.
Disambulatory and chapels
The disambulatory, the semicircular passage around the east end of the church, was constructed in the 12th century. It contains a series of small chapels decorated with Romanesque arcades of slender columns whose capitals feature the heads of angels and classical sirens. It also displays an array of early sculptures and paintings of the 17th century.
Chapel of Saint Symphorien
The Chapel of Saint Symphorien, located just to the right inside the entrance of the church, is one of the oldest places in the church. It was constructed in about 1020, at the same time as the bell tower. to contain the sarcophagus of Saint Germain, who died in 576. His tomb was formerly located in the earlier church on the site, which had been destroyed during the Viking invasions. It was located at the edge of the Abbey so that it would be accessible for lay persons who came on pilgrimages, while most of the Abbey was accessible only to the monks.
In 1690, the head of the monastery decided to redecorate the room, covering the walls with wood palling. These were removed in the 1970s, revealing the original walls and frescoes from the 11th century. The square chapel is of an extreme simplicity, with windows high up the walls giving it a large amount of light. The wall of the apse, facing south, has a simple arch. The interior face of the arch has traces of the early frescoes of Christ and Angels. painted with ochre, brown, red and yellow.
Art and Decoration
Painting and sculpture
The chapels around the disabulatory at the east end of the church display several notable works of art. These include "Entry of Christ into Jerusalem" by Laurent de La Hyre (1606–1656).
Paintings – the Hippolyte Flandrin cycle
The most ambitious artistic work in the church is the cycle of twenty murals in the sanctuary, the choir and the nave, which was commissioned by the architect Victor Baltard to a single artist, Hippolyte Flandrin (1809–1864). Flandrin conceived a series of paintings depicting scenes of the Old Testament which prefigured the New Testament. Flandrin was aided in the project by his brother, Paul Flandrin (1811–1902), who signed the painting of the last traverse. The paintings were inspired by variety of different styles, ranging from the Byzantine style of the 13th century, the Italian primitive style of the 14th century, and the Roman Renaissance style of the 16th century] The final work, in the north transept, was finished after his death by one of his students, Sebastien Cornu. Numerous other artists assisted the project, notably Alexandre Denuelle, who painted the elaborate designs which framed the murals.
Altars and the Pulpit
The marble pulpit in the nave (1827) was designed by Quatremère de Quincy, the highly-influential theorist and art historian who led the movement promoting classical Roman and Greek features in French architecture. The columns and cupolas of the altars in the church illustrated the classical revival doctrines.
Column Capitals
Original Column capitals (12th c.)
The original sculpted capitals of the columns in the nave were removed in the 19th century, and placed in the Cluny Museum for their preservation. They were replaced by modern versions with bright colors, to match the rest of the restored interior.
Gothic revival Column Capitals (19th c.)
The new column capitals installed during the renovation by Hippolyte Flandrin were directly inspired by the surviving originals, which, in a very poor state of preservation, had largely been transferred to the Cluny Museum. The new capitals took their inspiration from the varied styles of the originals; Byzantine of the 12th century, Italian primitive from the 14th century and Romaneque from the 16th century.
Stained Glass
Nearly all of the original stained glass in the church was destroyed during the French Revolution. Four original 13th century windows survive, and are now found in the Chapel of Saint Genevieve, mounted in two windows on the southeast side of the choir. The four panels that survived are classified by the Ministry if Culture as protected historic objects. They are typical of the style of the 13th century under Louis IX of France. They depict: Saint Anne and saint Joachim; the Annunciation; the Marriage of the Virgin (on a single panel); and works of "Misercordia", or mercy; divided between two panels. Some other windows from the Lady Chapel ended up in the Metropolitan Museum in New York, the Walters Art Museum in Baltimore, and the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, which has a window with scenes from the life of the Virgin Mary.
During the 19th century restoration, new windows for the rest of the church were designed by Flandrin, and were made by the master glass Alfred Gérente. This was the final stage of the restoration.
The Organ
The organ in the tribune, over the entrance to the nave, is in the neoclassical style. It was built by Haerpfer-Erman (1973) and Fossaert (2004–2005). The towers of the case are decorated with sculpture of Saint Victor and musician-angels, created by Matthieu Lespagnandelle between 1617 and 1689. They were originally part of the organ at the abbey church of Saint-Victor.
The Bishop's Palace, the Lady Chapel and Prison
Today only two buildings of the original Abbey survive; the church and the former Abbot's Palace, next to it. Before the Revolution, it covered a much larger area; it extended to the area now bordered to the north by the (current) rue Jacob, to the East by the rue de l'Echaudée, to the south by the south side of the Boulevard Saint-Germain and the rue Gozlin, and to the west by the rue St-Benoit.
The Abbot's Palace, next door to the church on what is now Rue de l'Abbaye, was built in 1586 as the residence of the Cardinal de Bourbon. It was the second building in Paris to be built of brick and stone. It was in ruins after the Revolution. It was restored in the 19th century and now belongs to the Catholic Institute of Paris.
A Flamboyant Gothic lady chapel was built next to the church in about 1244–7, at what is now 8 rue de l'Abbaye. It was badly damaged during the Revolution and was finally demolished in the early 19th century. Some of the flamboyant arches of the church can be seen in the small park next to the church at the corner of rue Bonaparte and Rue de l'Abbaye. Some of the stained glass windows of the church were also saved; some are in the choir of the main church, while others are found in museums in France, England and the United States. Some windows, including a scene showing the death of Saint Germain, are currently in the collection of Winchester College.
From 1275 to 1636, the pillory of the Abbey was located in the current Place d'Acadie, better known to Parisians as the Mabillon due to the eponymous Métro station located there. This square was therefore called the Place du Pilori and the current rue de Buci leading to it was called the rue du Pilori.
The abbey had its own prison since the Middle Ages. It was located in what is now the Boulevard Saint-Germain, just west of the current Passage de la Petite Boucherie. It was rebuilt in 1635 and in 1675 it was requisitioned for a military prison. The prison was known for its extremely poor condition, for example, in 1836, Benjamin Appert wrote :
The cells are abominable and so humid that the soldiers incarcerated there, often for minor offences, must subsequently go to the Val-de-Grâce hospital to recover from their imprisonment.
During the Revolution it became notorious as the site of some of the September Massacres that took place on 2–7 September 1792. The prison was used by the Sans Culottes to confine priests who were suspected of opposing the Revolution. Those who refused to take an oath of allegiance to the Revolutionary government were sent out one-by-one to the Abbot's garden and killed.
(Wikipedia)
Von der Mitte des 6. Jahrhunderts gegründeten einstigen Abtei ist nur die Kirche Saint-Germain-des-Prés (französisch Abbaye de Saint-Germain-des-Prés [abei də sɛ̃ ʒɛʁmɛ̃ de pʁe], Église de Saint-Germain-des-Prés [eɡliz də sɛ̃ ʒɛʁmɛ̃ de pʁe]) erhalten. Sie befindet sich in dem nach ihr benannten Pariser Stadtviertel Saint-Germain-des-Prés im zentral in der Innenstadt gelegenen 6. Arrondissement am Boulevard Saint-Germain.
Der erste Kirchenbau an dieser Stelle wurde im Jahre 558 geweiht. Auch die heute weitgehend zerstörte Abtei datiert aus diesem oder dem folgenden Jahrhundert. Der spätere Name von Abtei und Kirche geht auf das 8. Jahrhundert zurück und bezieht sich auf den heiligen Germanus (Saint Germain), der von 550 bis 576 der 20. Bischof von Paris war.
Geschichte
Schon in römischer Zeit soll es am Ort der späteren Kirche einen Isis-Tempel mit eigenem Initiationskult gegeben haben. Der ursprüngliche Kirchenbau wurde ab 557 durch Childebert I., einen Sohn Chlodwigs I., unweit der Île de la Cité errichtet, um zwei Reliquien zu ehren, die der fränkische König in Saragossa erbeutet hatte. Die Kirche wurde daher zunächst dem Heiligen Kreuz und dem heiligen Vincenz von Saragossa (Basilique Sainte-Croix et Saint-Vincent) geweiht. Der spätere Beiname der Germanus-Abtei (französisch les prés ‚die Wiesen‘) deutet auf deren Standort außerhalb der Stadtmauern, auf damals noch nicht erschlossenem Weideland hin. In dieser Zeit diente die Abtei als Nekropole mehrerer fränkischer Könige aus der Linie der Merowinger, bevor die heutige Kathedrale von Saint-Denis diese Rolle übernahm. Als erster König wurde Childebert I. hier im Dezember 558 durch den Bischof Germanus von Paris bestattet.
Im Jahr 576 wurde Germanus selbst in einer benachbarten Kapelle beigesetzt, bevor seine Gebeine im Jahre 755 – im Zuge seiner Heiligsprechung – durch den Karolinger Pippin den Jüngeren und seine Söhne Karl und Karlmann hinter den Hauptaltar der Kirche übertragen wurden. Nachdem die Abtei, die angeblich wegen ihrer vergoldeten Dächer auch Saint-Vincent-le-Doré genannt wurde, im 9. Jahrhundert die Habgier der Wikinger geweckt hatte, geplündert und niedergebrannt worden war, wurde sie im 10. Jahrhundert wieder aufgebaut. Inzwischen hatte sie den Namen des heiligen Germanus angenommen und hieß fortan Saint-Germain-des-Prés.
Während der Französischen Revolution 1793–1794 wurde die Abtei geschlossen und in eine Salpeterraffinerie umgewandelt, die Gräber der Merowinger wurden zerstört. Während die ursprünglichen Königsgräber verloren gegangen sind, haben Ausgrabungen gelegentlich Überreste freigelegt, wie beispielsweise die Entdeckung zweier merowingischer Gräber unter dem Hauptaltar im Jahr 1799, die anschließend in das Cluny-Museum überführt wurden.
Große Teile der Abtei waren zu Beginn des 19. Jahrhunderts baufällig und wurden abgerissen, darunter die Chapelle de la Vierge (1802) und beiden Doppeltürme (1822). Immerhin gelang es den Architekten François Mazois und Étienne-Hippolyte Godde, die Kirche selbst zu retten. Auch der 1586 von dem damaligen Kommendatarabt Kardinal Charles I. de Bourbon in Auftrag gegebene, im 18. Jahrhundert allerdings stark umgebaute Abtspalast in der Rue Jacob ist noch erhalten. Das Gebäude mit dem Militärgefängnis, der Prison de l’Abbaye, wurde hingegen 1854 abgetragen.
In der Kirche befindet sich eine Dauerausstellung über die Geschichte von Saint-Germain-des-Prés.
Kirche
Die Bausubstanz der heutigen Kirche stammt aus dem 11. bis 17. Jahrhundert. Das Dachwerk des Langhauses wurde dendrochronologisch auf Fällzeiten zwischen 1018 und 1038 datiert. Seine Außenwände und Arkaden stammen noch aus dieser Zeit, ebenso der Turm.
Im 12. Jahrhundert wurde der bisherige Chor durch den heutigen ersetzt, der im Jahre 1163 von Papst Alexander II. geweiht wurde, im selben Jahr wie die Kathedrale Notre-Dame. Die Kreuzrippengewölbe und die Arkade des Chorumgangs sind noch rundbogig. Darüber liegt ein Gangtriforium, dessen Öffnungen zum Binnenchor statt mit Bögen mit waagerechten Architraven schließen, die von korinthischen Säulen gestützt werden. Die Chorobergaden und die rechteckigen Joche des Binnenchors sind schon spitzbogig, die von Rippen stabilisierte Schirm-Halbkuppel der schließenden Apsis jedoch rundbogig. Insofern zeigt sich hier ein romanisch-gotischer Übergangsstil, wiewohl die Kirche als eines der ersten Bauwerke der Gotik gepriesen wird.
Die älteren Teile der Kirche wurden erstmals im 13. Jahrhundert eingewölbt. Die heutigen rundbogigen Kreuzrippengewölbe von Mittelschiff und Seitenschiffen und die spitzbogigen des Querhauses wurden jedoch erst zwischen 1644 und 1646 eingezogen, als die Abtei (seit 1631) das Mutterhaus der Mauriner war. Die Wandmalereien (19. Jahrhundert) sind das Werk von Hippolyte Flandrin.
Orgel
Die Abteikirche erhielt 1474 eine neue Orgel. Von 1662 bis 1667 erbauten Pierre und Alexandre Thierry eine neue Orgel mit vier Manualen und 36 Registern. Dieses Instrument wurde 1696 und 1722 umgebaut, bei der Schließung der Abteikirche (1792) ausgelagert und 1798 in Saint-Eustache aufgestellt.
1805 erwarb man die 1679 von Alexandre Thierry erbaute Orgel der Abtei Saint-Victor. 1772 war dieses Instrument durch François-Henri Clicquot umgebaut und bei der Schließung der Abtei Saint-Victor (1792) abgebaut worden. Antoine und Louis Somer stellten die Orgel mit wenigen Veränderungen 1805–1810 in einem neuen Gehäuse in Saint-Germain-des-Prés auf. 1829 erweiterte Louis Callinet das Instrument um einige Register (z. B. eine Bombarde im Hauptwerk) ohne die Substanz wesentlich zu verändern. 1869 erfolgte ein Neubau im Gehäuse von Somer durch Jean-Baptiste Stolz, wobei das Gehäuse des Rückpositivs entfernt wurde. Joseph Gutschenritter veränderte zwischen 1922 und 1927 die Disposition im neobarocken Sinn.
Die Orgelbaufirma Haerpfer & Erman erbaute 1973 eine neue Orgel im alten Gehäuse und rekonstruierte das Rückpositivgehäuse. Das Instrument hat 56 Register auf vier Manualen und Pedal. Zehn Register stammen aus dem 17. und 18. Jahrhundert, 17 wurden von Somer übernommen. Die Spiel- und Registertrakturen sind mechanisch.
(Wikipedia)
This statue was given to Seattle by a sister city in China several years ago.
Texture by SkeletalMess www.flickr.com/photos/skeletalmess/6942717245/
Turn of a Friendly Card
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Based on a true adventures of a rogue active in the waning years of the 1930’s as discovered in the criminal archives of Chatwick University.
Act 1
I begin my tale in the present…
That afternoon a soiree was given as part of the purchase price of the tickets for the annual Autumn Charity Ball to be presented later that evening at the manor’s great house. Since I was alone, I just went mainly for the free food and to rub my elbows with the wealthy guests who would be in happy attendance there, and at the Ball. I was alone, but certainly not bored. There was a game I enjoyed playing to pass the time at these affairs that entailed scoping out by their dress and day jewels worn, those ladies whom would be most likely to be wearing the better costumes and sparklers that evening. It often proved to be a most beneficial insight into the actions and mannerisms of the very rich. I walked amongst the cheerful guests, eying one here ( a lady in satin and pearls) and another there( a high spirited girl with a diamond pin at the throat of her frilly silken blouse). It was as I was passing the latter that the friend she had been talking too (dressed like a vamp), bumped up against me. I caught her, steadying her as they both giggled. I didn’t mind, for the lassie’s too tight satin sheath tea dress had been an enticement to hold, and the gold bracelet that had been dangling from her gloved wrist had been a pleasure to observe. I kissed her gloved hand, rings glittering, as I apologized gallantly for my clumsiness. Her eyes were bright, almost as bright as the twin necklaces of gold that hung swaying down pleasantly from between her ample bosom. I left them, moving on to greener pastures, and it was very green, all of it….
It was then that I detected another pretty lassie. It was her long fiery red hair with falling wispy curls that first captured my attention. She was wearing a fetchingly smart white chiffon party dress that commanded me to acquire a closer examination. She appeared to be a blithe spirit, seemingly content with just being by herself and roaming about with casual elegance, the extensive grounds of the manor proper. I began to discreetly follow her at a distance. Although she did not wear any jewelry, her manner and the eloquent way she moved is what attracted me the most. It would be very interesting to seek her out later that evening and she what she would have chosen to decorate herself with. I followed her as she sojourned into the depths of a traditional English garden with a maze of lushly green trimmed 8 foot high hedges
As I strolled through the hedgerows in her wake I allowed my mind to wander its own course. Suddenly I straightened up, my reverie broken by an epiphany of sorts. I allowed myself to grin and the lady whose enchantment I was swollen up in, at that moment turned, and seeing my beaming smile assumed it was for her and gave me a rather cute nod of her head. I answered in same, as I headed en route to a nearby stone garden bench to allow my thoughts to think through themselves.
But before I go on, allow me the pleasure to sojourn and reminisce about an incident that occurred several years prior:
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I was still working unaided in those days, travelling on to a new next quest that would take me just outside of Surrey.
I had just purchased my train ticket and had seen my luggage safe on board when I decided to rest in the lounge, it being some 45 minutes before allowed to enter personally aboard. Being so early the lounge was almost deserted, only one other occupant. I assumed she was waiting for someone on an incoming train due to the fact she carried no luggage. She was obviously well off, well dressed in satins and lace, and her jewels shone magnificently in the dim lights. Especially one of her rings, noticeably lying loosely around a finger, it sparkled with an expensive brilliance. I had seen one like it in a tiffanies store, worth almost 250 pounds. But she did not appreciate the show her jewelry was putting on under the lounge lights, for she was fast asleep.
I circled around her, aiming for a seat next to her, eyeing her and her possessions carefully. I noticed her purse had fallen off her lap and lay on the floor. An idea popped into my head, and I picked the purse up, and looked around carefully, before placing my plan into action. But I was thwarted as an older, matronly lady was spotted heading our way. I slipped the purse into my jacket and moved off before I was noticed. Of course she came in and took the empty seat across form the sleeping princess, and soon busied herself with knitting. As the older lady had sat down, not quietly, the wealthy lady stirred waking up at the noise. I went into a corner and sat, waiting. The two ladies soon fell into conversation; the minute’s ticked by excruciatingly slow. Soon I noticed we even had more company.
He was a lad of only fourteen, but with a devilish look about him that marked him a kindred spirit to meself, and his quick eyes were darting about taking it all in as he stood outside the paned glass window.
It was as the first announcement of boarding the train that I saw a chance for opportunity to strike.
The older lady folded up her knitting and clinching her bag, bid adieu to her new friend,( befuddled a little by the old ladies constant stream of gossip), and headed to the train. I was twenty steps ahead of her and was standing behind the youth as she left the lounge. I tapped him on the shoulder; he looked around at me suspiciously, and then caught sight of the shilling I was holding in front of his nose. I quickly whispered a few words into his ear on how he could earn it, and his grin spread as he bought into my story. I still held onto the shilling as he darted around and inside the lounge. I watched as he ran up behind the lady, circling her, then running in front of her he tripped over her leg, as she helped him up, her hand with the ring reaching down, he turned and spat onto the wrist and sleeve of that hand, than standing he ran away. Running alongside me, I handed him the shilling in passing as he ran off, disappearing in to the street.
I went inside and approached the astonished lady, as she was looking for her purse to get a handkerchief, confused as to its absence, while she held up her soiled hand( ring glittering furiously) in utter disbelief. I approached, catching her attention by the soothing words I uttered to her. I took her hand, unbelieving with her at just had happened, and I as I apologized for the youth of today I produced my own silk handkerchief and starting with her silky sleeve, began to wipe it off, continuing my tirade of displeasure and contempt at what had just occurred to the dear lady as I did so. As I finishing wiping her down, ending with her warm slender fingers, I kissed them, just as the last boarding announcement came over (perfect timing!) I let her go, explaining that I must catch my train. I turned and without looking back made the train just as it was letting off steam before chugging off.
I gained my private carriage just as the train began to lurch away. It wasn’t until after the train began its journey that I casually removed my silk handkerchief from my pocket and unwrapped it carefully, admiring up close the shimmering, valuable tiffany ring that was lying inside. I pocketed it, and then remembered the purse. I took it out and examined its contents: coin and notes equaling a handsome amount, a gold (gilded) case, embroidered lacy handkerchief, small silver flask of perfume, and ( of all things)a large shimmering prism , like one that would have dangled from a fancy crystal chandelier. A prism?, I questioned with interest as I examined it. It was pretty thing, about the circumference of a cricket ball, but shaped like a pendulum, it shimmered and glittered like the most precious of jewels. Why she had it in her purse? I couldn’t guess, and I saw no value in it, so I pocketed it and allowed it to leave my mind.
As I settled into my seat I began to think of the lad I had just met, I had been right on the money as far as his eagerness for mischief. Actually he reminded me of myself at that age, and I wondered if that lad with the shifty eyes would also turn out to follow the same course I had explored.
Which Begs the question, what had I turned out to become. And since I’m still reminiscing
I’ll give little background material about me, hopefully I don’t come across as being too conceited about my self-taught skills..
I had never been one to take the hard road, and even at a young age I was always looking for angles, or short cuts to make some money.
Once, while watching for some time a street magician and his acts. I observed a pick pocket working the crowd. He approached a pair of well-dressed ladies in shiny clothes, and standing behind them bided his time and then lifted a small pouch from one velvet purse, and a fat wallet from a silken one, then he moved on. Now both ladies were wearing shiny bracelets, one with jewels. I thought that he could have realized a greater profit if he had nicked one or both of the bracelets first, than try for the contents of their purses. The bracelets’ alone would have realized a far greater profit than what he lifted from their purses. It further occurred to me that by mimicking some of the sleight of hand tricks and misdirection that the magician was using on his audience, it could be accomplished. A hand placed on the right shoulder and as the lady turned right, whisk off the bracelet from her left wrist, and excuse oneself, that sort of thing.
So, I practiced (on my sisters, who proved to be willing accomplices to “my game”) and learned to pick their purses and pockets. I than moved onto their jewelry, starting by lifting bracelets and slipping away rings, before advancing to the brooches, necklaces and earrings they were wearing. After I was satisfied at my skill level, I went out and worked the streets. Sometimes using my one sister who was also hooked on what I was doing as a willing partner.
But I found myself still not being satisfied, in the back of my mind I thought there had to be a more lucrative way to turn a profit.
I’d found my answer when an attractive lady in a rustling satin gown zeroed in on me while I was “visiting” a ballroom. She was jeweled like a princess right up to the diamond band she wore holding up her piles of soft locks like a glimmering crown. The more she drank, the closer she got and I decided that her necklace would definitely help pay my expenses more than the contents of her purse (although I had already lifted the fat wallet from her small purse), and I did have very expensive tastes to pay for. So I took her onto the dance floor.
I was amazed at how easily I had been able to open the necklace’s clasp , slipping it over her satiny shoulder, lifting it off and placing it safely in my pocket with almost no effort. Then she decided to be playful once the song ended and brushed up against me. She felt the necklace in my pocket and before I could act she had her hand in and pulled it out.
The silly naive twit thought I was teasing her and told me that for my penance I had to go up to her suite in order to put it back on for her. I kept up the charade as best as I could.
And that’s where we ended up. A little bit of light fondling began as I placed the necklace back around her throat. I began to tease her, plied her with more and more alcohol as I tried to keep my distance, and virginity. Finally she passed out in a drunken stupor, but not before I had learned where she hid her valuables by suggesting she should lock her jewels up for the night..
With her safely unconscious, I began to strip her clean off all her jewels, reclaiming the necklace first. Then I visited all her jewelry casket and began looting it. I even took her small rhinestone clutch with the diamond clasp; of course I already had liberated its small wallet.
When I’d left her lying happily asleep in bed, still in her satin gown( the only item left to her that shined), I knew I had found a much more profitable line of “work”
So I began making circuits around to the haunts of the very rich, I still kept may hand in pickpocketing, so to speak, but centered only on those “pockets” containing mainly jewelry. I also began to carefully explore new ways of acquiring jewels” in masse”, so to speak.
Soon I had accumulated many tricks and tools, having them at my disposal to put into action once required, and for the remaining years up till the present had managed to live quite comfortably off of the ill-gotten gains using them allowed me to acquire.
Which brings me back to the train ride, my prism, and the rest of my background story before I retun to the present tale. Please be patient.
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So, anyway, I reached Surry without any further incident and disembarking, made my way out to the large country house where I would be staying to take a short rest, vacation if you will. But, pardon the play on words, for there is never any rest for the wicked, is there?
I had become acquainted with a servant of the old mansion ( almost a small castle, really) , that was about a mile off. I managed to learn a great deal, and soon found myself, on the pretense of visiting her, exploring the grounds. There was to be a grand ball taking place a couple of weekends away , and the maid had filled my ears with the riches that would be displayed by the multitude of regal ladies making an appearance. I began to think about trying to make a little bit of profit from my vacation. I am not sure how the idea developed, but the prism that I still had in my possession, came up centrally into my plans.
Late on the evening of the regal affair, I snuck over, covered head to toe in black, with my small satchel off tools by my side. I set up a candle behind an old stone ivy covered wall in a far corner of the rather large and intricate English garden that surrounded the inner circle around the mansion. I than strung the jewel-like prism in front of it. Standing behind the wall, I would strike the prism with a long stick I was holding whenever I observed sparkles emanating from silkily gowned ladies walking in the distance, solitary or in pairs. The prism would flash fire, sort of like a showy lure being used when fishing in a crooked trout stream. Only I was fishing for far sweeter game than trout. My objective was to trick certain types of jeweled ladies (scatterbrains some may call them) by luring them down onto the path beyond the wall, using their natural curiosity to my advantage.
I had at least two strikes rise up to my lure in the second hour.
On was a pretty lady in flowing green satin number, decorated with plenty of emeralds, which, hidden in the shadows, I observed were probably paste. I let her wonder about; as she looked and played with the shiny toy, remaining hidden until she grew bored and wandered off.
The second was a slender maiden wearing a long sleek black gown with long ivory silk gloves. I had never before seen a lady so decked out in jewels, literally head to toe. With the exception of the rhinestones adorning her heels, the rest of the lot was real, so valuably real that I could feel my mouth salivating at the thoughts of acquiring her riches. Now in Edwardian times only older, married ladies would be allowed the privilege of wearing a diamond Tiara. But in these modern times, it had become culturally acceptable for any well-to do lady, single or otherwise, to wear one out in society. Even so, they were still rarely worn, and seldom seen outside the safety of large gatherings. But there it was, a small, delicately slender piece of intricate art that glistened from the top of her head like some elegant beacon. That piece alone was probably worth more than I had made all the last four months combined!
I began to skirt around in the shadows, placing myself in position to cut off her retreat. Her diamonds blazed as she approached, eyeing the swinging prism with total concentration. Which was unfortunate, because as I was about to leave the shadows, she walked into the thorns of a rose bush, screeching out, and attracting the notice of a pair of gentlemen who had just crossed the path quite a ways off, called out when they heard the commotion. She started to become chatty with them, obviously coming on to her rescuers, my prism all but forgotten. Than before I knew it, in a swishing of her long gown, she was gone, “swimming” off before I was able to set me ”hook”.
Which I was able to do on the third strike, almost an hour later, just as I was beginning to ponder wither I should call it off and head back home..
They were a pair of young damsels in their young twenties. They may have been sisters, or cousins at the least. I still remember how my heart leapt into my throat as they observed my colourful prism and turned down the old flagstone path. I had not seen anyone out and about for some time, so I knew they would be no would be rescuers around to come to their aid
And, best of all, they were both dressed for the kill!
One, the blonde, was clad in a black velvet number that one could cannily describe as quite form fitting. As were the small ropes of pearls that hung from all points of interest, pretty with a matching pricelessness.
But her cousin, as I will refer to her, out shone black velvet quite literally.
This one, a stunning raven haired beauty, wore a long streaming gown of liquid ivory satin. A diamond brooch sparkled as it held up a fold of the gown to her waist. The fold allowed her to show a rather daring amount of a slender bare calf. The brooch was not paste, but a real jewel that had been added for the nights festivities ( To be successful, one learns to read these signs accurately) Her ears and neckline were home to a matching set of pure white diamonds. A wide diamond bracelet graced a bare right wrist ,so she must be left handed I instinctively thought, an observation that would have aided me if I were planning on having a go for slipping the bracelet from her wrist, but tonight I was planning a much more daring attempt to empty the entire jewel casket, so to speak.
They went to the prism, playing with it a bit, I had begun to circle around, when I noticed black velvet pointing out with multiple ringed fingers, to something further down the path past the wall.
With a clicking of heels I let the pair pass, they apparently wanted to see what was on the other side of the wall. I followed; it was not hard, because the necklace the raven haired one wore, diamonds fully encircling her throat, rippled and sparkled from their perch, caught in the full harvest moon’s cast, giving me more than enough light to shadow them quietly .
After a while they caught on that something/someone was following them, but as they turned they could see nothing. I was in black, and hooded, invisible to them in the shadows of the trees. They whispered amongst themselves, now worried, realizing that there were dangers lurking beyond the pale, in their case, the safety of the gardens , especially for ones decked out as they were. They then turned and headed right back from where they had come, right into my waiting arms.
It is interesting what good breeding does for young, poised ladies. For, as I stepped out of the shadows, a finger of my right hand to my lips, my Fairborn in my left hand, its black blade glinting wickedly in the moonlight , they did not scream out or shout for help. Instead the pair merely let out small gasps, and then they both, in a quite charming synchronized display of disbelief, place each one hand over their open mouths, and the other upon their perspective necklaces.
And as I flourished my wicked looking Fairbairn–Sykes blade in their direction, they unquestioningly reached around and undid those pretty necklaces, tremblingly handing them out to me, like actresses following a well-read script. I took the little pretties and after stuffing them into my satchel, held out again my free hand, my fingers beckoning. Not a word was spoken between us, as the frightened pair of young ladies began removing their shimmering jewels and added them in a neat little growing pile along my open palm. The raven haired girl even undid her brooch without me having to command her to do so. Once I had stashed it all away, I motioned for them to turn back around, than with a little helpful prodding on my part, they began moving forward back down the hill, away from the garden. The one in white hobbling a little now as she kept tripping over the hem of her dress, now no longer held up by the stolen brooch.
After we had traveled about 200 meters I had them stop, and take off their high heels. Then picking the pretty things up, I motioned them to turn back around and made them walk back the way we had come in their bare feet, watching the pair awkwardly hobble barefooted down the wooded path. They would be quite a while on their journey back, allowing me more than ample time to make me escape. I threw their shoes off to the side and went briskly the other way, reaching the place was staying at , gaining my room without notice. But not before I had hidden the jewels inside an old stump to retrieve them at a later date. I never really heard so much as a whisper of the incident, other than from the pretty lips of my friendly maiden. The wee hours of the morning before my early departure for the train station found me revisiting the stump and retrieving my satchel and its precious cargo. After hiding it all in a false bottom of my case I laid my head on the pillow and drifted off to sleep as I wondered what had happened to the little prism, marveling at how useful it had ended up proving to be.
So, how does this story (journey rather) relate to the one I had already started? Please read on, and enrich your curiosity… my dear readers.
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Act 2
So, with apologies for my lengthy elucidation, but I now return you back to the garden party I was now attending on that warm fall day. But, as you will see, my prism story needed to be told in order to add a bit of flavor to what was about to unfold.
As I sat on the garden bench I formulated my plans. I should be able to acquire the main piece tonight at the Ball, I would have time this afternoon to retrieve my ever handy satchel and its array of tools and have it hidden at the spot I had already selected. It was perfect, located at the end of the path I had found, or rather the charming lady in the smart chiffon dress had found for me. A gas lamp would provide adequate light for my “lure”, and it led to a back wood where I could lead any victims away and liberate them of their valuables before making my escape. I rose, just enough time to walk my escape route, before setting up and then be dressed for the evening’s festivities. I looked around, I was alone now, my lady in white had disappeared, following her own course, whatever it may have been.
The Autumn Ball that evening was in full swing by the time I arrived. Being a cool fall day, most of the women were wearing long gowns and dresses, and that, for whatever the reason, usually meant they were decked out with more layers of jewelry than say , if it had been the middle of summer. In order to put my plan in action I need and intrinsic piece of the trap, a prism. The one I had once had was long ago lost, a minor pawn in a game to take a pair of princesses.
I knew exactly the type of prism required for my plan, and so began mingling amongst the guests with that in mind.
I started out by walking through to the chamber like ballroom where a full orchestra was starting to play. The first person I saw from the garden party was the little tramp who had been wearing the too tight satin tea dress. That dress had been replaced with a long silky gown, her gold jewelry replaced with emeralds; including a thin bracelet that had taken the place of the gold one that she had so obligingly dangled in my larcenous path. I decided to avoid her In principle, and in doing so spied someone quite interesting.
That someone was a pretty lady in a long velvet gown standing off to one side, idly watching the many dancers out on the floor. The dancing couples were forming an imagery of a rainbow coloured sea of slinky swirling gowns and with erupting fireworks of sparkling jewels, ignited by pair of immensely large chandeliers that hung over the dance floor, setting them off. I made my way, skirting the dance floor to reach her, my eyes on her jewels, which were making pretty fireworks of their own. I happened to walk up just as a waiter with a tray of drinks was passing by. Plucking off a drink I offered it to the lady with one hand, my other hand placed on her back as If to steady myself. She laughed prettily, and taking the drink I met her eyes, as she was focused on reaching and holding the glass in her slippery gloved hand, mine was on the ruby and diamond necklace. My hand behind her had flicked open the simple hook and eye clasp of the antique piece and was in the process of lifting it up and whisking it away from her throat. As I said a few words to her, I pocketed it, while also taking in the rest of her lovely figure and its shiny decorations, before biding adieu. She smiled, her pale bare neckline now quite glaringly extinguished of its fire.
It was about an hour later, after spotting, but unable to make inroads with several likely candidates, that I finally struck gold (figuratively). It came in the form of a young couple arguing between themselves in a far corner of the chamber. She was lecturing a rather handsome man in a tux, her jeweled fingers flying in his face. If she hadn’t been moving about in such an animated fashion as she lectured, I may not have even noticed her. But as it happened I did, especially noticeable was the sanctimonious lady’s wide jeweled bracelet that was bursting out in a rainbow of colorful flickers as her hand was emphatically waving, as her long gown of silk swished around with every movement she made. Perfect. I watched for a bit, and sure enough they moved off, the man heading for the patio leading outside, the wealthy girl following him, still giving him lashes with her tongue. I moved and managed to have her bump into me simply by stepping on the hemline of her long gown. For a few seconds I was the one on the receiving end of her wrath, but I took it like a man, I could see in the eyes of her tongue lashed husband, that he was grateful for the respite. I was also grateful; grateful for the quite wide, very shimmering, bracelet that I had removed from her wrist and now was residing in my pocket.
I began to leave the patio, but was stopped by a matronly lady in ruffles, laces and pearls, her breath heavy with alcohol. She started to question me on what the couple had been on about. Then without waiting for an answer she launched herself into a tirade of her own, her gem encrusted, silken gloved fingers, waving in my face for emphasis. It was almost ten minutes before I was able to make my escape. Which I did, but not before slipping off one of the lecturing ladies vulgarly large cocktail rings.
I headed onto the patio; the time was getting ripe for my plan, which I was now ready to put into motion, now having acquired its most essential piece. I went to the end of the large patio, weaving in and out of the by now well liquored guests whom had assembled there. Across the way I saw a lady tripping over her own gown. By the time I reached her she had fallen down, giggling merrily. Two of us rushed to her aid, she was busy gushed her thanks to the rescuer she knew, while ignoring the one she didn’t! Which was unfortunate on her part, for by ignoring me, she also was ignorant of the fact that I was busy lifting the small stands of black pearls from her wrist. I left unnoticed, much like a shadow fading out of the light, or at least that’s how it seemed. Finally I reached the patios outer edge without further incident, or gain. I went on the grass and turned a corner with the intention of going, post haste around the house to reach the gardens by the long way, hoping not to be seen by anyone. But I no sooner turned the corner, when I realized that it was not to be the case.
It was my blithe spirit in white chiffon from the garden party, pardon me, soiree. She was unescorted, looking up at the moon above a stone turret with one lit window, so intently that my presence had not been noticed. I had been absolutely correct in my observation of her as far as what she would be wearing for the evening. For what she had lacked in ornaments at the soiree, she had more than made up for in the evening festivities. She was absolutely gorgeous, resplendent in as beautiful a silvery satin gown that I had ever witness. It was just pouring down, shimmering along her delightful figure. Her long blazing red hair was still curling down and free, but now a pair of long chandelier earrings cascading down from her earlobes, were peeking out every now and then as they swayed with her every movement. Her blazingly rippling necklace was all diamonds, dripping down the front of her tightly satin covered bosom, twinkling iridescently like an intensively glimmering waterfall. Her slender gloved wrists were home to a pair of dangling diamond bracelets that were almost outshone by her many glistening rings. All in all she was quite a lure all too herself
I came up to her, starling her from her reverie. Taking up her hand, I looked into her startled, suddenly blushing face. I complimented her on the fine gown she wore. She thanked me, and I could see I that she suddenly remembered she me as the chap who she thought smiled to her in the garden. She seemed to accept my compliment quite readily. I chanced it( although Lord knows I was short on time) and asked her to a dance. I did not think she would agree, so it was with a little bit of surprise, hoping she would politely decline and walk off, leaving me free to go about my business unobserved. But she accepted, and I will admit that my heart leapt as she agreed (although in the back of my mind I knew I should be off if my plan was to work). The music had stopped so we made small talk as we slowly walked back to the ballroom. Her name was Katrina. It seems she was waiting for someone, which suited my plans, but he was late and so she had time. Which may have sounded dismissive, but from the apologetic way she said it, it was anything but the sort.
The orchestra started to tune back up as we entered, and taking her offered hand up, was soon lost in the elegance of my appealing partner. It was a long dance, and a formal one, but I could tell she was subtly anxious to be off on her meeting, as I was to be off to my own adventure. But Katrina did not really allow it to show, which was very uncharacteristic of her someone with her obvious breeding. So I was ready when the by the end of the music she begged her condolences and took flight. I watched her as she fluidly moved away, her jewels sparkling, all of them. On her mission to meet Mr. X I thought, for whom I was already harboring a quite jealous dislike. I should be off I thought to meself.
But I stood, still as stone; totally mesmerized by the way Katrina’s swirling silvery satin gown was playing out along her petite, jewel sparkling figure. It wasn’t till the last of her gown swished around a corner out of sight that I moved, but not without having to shake my head to clear the thoughts of her out of it. Well old son, focus. For by now the guests were starting to wander a bit afield in the waning hours of the Autumn Ball, and my small window of opportunity was closing fast. If my little plan was going to have any chance of success it would have to be now.
I walked out and made my way to one of the outside exist of the garden wall. Reaching into my pocket as I did so, fingering the bracelet, now cold, that had belonged to the quarrelsome lady,and soon would be playing another role, far from one its former mistress would ever have dreamed off. I also felt my new acquisition, still warm from my dance partner’s body. I will admit that I had felt a twinge of regret for taking it from a lady I had found to be most charmingly captivating. But slipping off the diamonds up and away from her throat had been as temptingly easy as it had been automatic. I had advantageously made use of the sleekness of her scintillatingly silky gown, and with the distractions created by the movements of the dance, successfully managed to keep Katrina’s attention safely diverted from the reality of why my fingers were ever so gently, caressingly sliding along her slippery gowns neckline. The truth was I had originally placed my hand there because it had felt so right, and I was a little startled when my fingers had subconsciously started playing with her necklaces clasp. Before I knew it, they had flicked open the gemstone clasp of her obviously expensive diamond necklace, and had lifted up. As I watched out of the corner of my eye, almost like I was a spectator, as opposed to being the perpetrator, I saw the chain move up and over her shoulder; its diamonds sparkling with is as the necklace disappeared from view behind her back.
It was a favored technique that I had perfected to the point that by this stage of my career I nearly always acquired my objective. But, as odd as it sounds, I was not happy with myself on this occasion.
But I did not long dwell on my mixed feelings on taking the charming lass’s diamonds, for by now I had reached my place of ambush. It was in one of the farthest reaches of the garden, at a bend on the end of a long path that, with a gas lamp at its beginning just off the patio, would allow me to see from some distance off. Behind me was a break in the hedge wide enough for a person to walk through comfortably. It was here, off a tree limb, underneath a second ornate cast iron gas lamp, which was now lit, that I hung the shimmering bracelet that I had sought out and acquired for just that reason
I walked around and saw that it could be seen flickered off in the distance from the woods, Perfect! Earlier I had hidden my satchel with a hood and knife and bit of rope in the hollow of an old tree. I now retrieved them, and after getting ready, found my position and waited. At 10 minutes past the first hour of my wait, with nary a single glimpse of anyone, I started to fidget. My corner may be just a bit too desolated I was beginning to admit to myself. It seemed that most of the guests were staying by the patio. I was starting to think that I should pack it in, possibly rejoining the guests for one last parting( of someone from her Jewelry). I was just reaching down to pick up my satchel when I suddenly saw something flash under the gas lamp at the beginning of the path, and my senses immediately perked up. I watched as the wisps of rich shimmery satin moved closer, I stiffened, drooling with anticipation, the game was afoot.
I could see clearly the flickering jewels she wore, and by their blazing sparkles of rippling fire, I knew that my long vigil would not have been in vain. As the lady drew I recognized her gown of silvery satin! I knew who was making those tantalizing flashes of appealing treasures. Katrina!
I watched as she approached, in all her glittering elegance. My heart and conscious was in turmoil, but I knew I probably would not get a second chance. I could not let her get away unscathed. Beside, from the shock of being confronted with a masked scoundrel wielding a wicked blade, she would be in no shape to recognize her assailant. She stopped, apprehensively looking back towards the bright lights of the Manor, Then turning back I saw she had a self-satisfied smile creeping upon her face. She reached up, and undoing her hair, shook it down, curls of softness cascading down, hanging loosely down. It was as she performed this provocative act, that I saw her eyes open wide in curiosity; she had spied my pretty little “prism”. The charming fish was hooked.
I waited, watching her approaching ever closer to fate, and from my concealment, I basked in her glow. My heart beating fast, my adrenaline pumping, for the remaining jewels (I thought of her necklace in my custody) that she possessed I already had witnessed were quite valuable. She passed my hiding spot and went to the hanging, shimmering object. As she reached up, looking around, she failed to see me approaching in the shadows. I came up from behind, jabbing a finger in her back as I reached her, I gruffly in no uncertain terms, snarled for her to freeze and make no sound. She stiffened under my touch, but made no move or outcry. I went around; pointing my knife in her direction, looking into her sad doe wide eyes as she realized what was going to happen next. She was trembling; from fear I guessed, and knew I had her right where I wanted. As I made my demands upon her, gimme them jewels sister, she, not surprisingly, was very compliant in giving them up to me. She reached for her necklace last, and looked entirely shocked to find her throat bare, as she searched the neckline of her gown I saw her look into my hand, now dripping with her precious jewelry, almost as if to see if she had not already removed it. She looked apologetically into my eyes, startled; almost pleading that she didn’t know what had happened to it. I just played dump. She than spoke for the first time, sir, may I ask to keep my purse? Her words would have instantly melted even the coldest chunk of ice, I looked down at the little silvery clutch hanging from her arm on its rhinestone chain, I nodded, indicating that she could, and saw relief wash over her face. I told her she now needed to turn around and walk off into the woods ahead of me. She hesitated, and I told her no harm would befall her, I had no intentions along those lines.
About 5 meters in I stopped her, and had her remove her shoes, as she bent over to undo the high heels rhinestone clasps I watched her gown tightly outlining her figure. She tripped on the hem of her gown, and as she attempted to keep her balance, accidently let her purse slip off her shoulder. Without thinking I reached down to pick it up for her as she tried reached for it simultaneously
The small purse was far heavier than it should have been. Curious I opened it, finding that it contained a rather extensive array of mismatched jewelry, glittering in unbelievably expensive fire . I looked into Katrina’s horror struck eyes dumb founded, as she looked guiltily into mine. The gig was up. The jewels belonged to the lady of the manor, my muse in silver was a thief, a female version of me very self.
Aye, what’s this than luv? I questioned her as she looked into my eyes, hers large with a mixture of fright and disbelief. She melted before me, fainting, I caught her in my arms, and it was no ruse. I held her as she came to, holding her warm, silky figure lovingly to mine. I did not know what to think. Nor could I ever explain what possessed me to do what I did next. As she came to, her eyes opened, and I removed my mask, looking back into them deeply.
Oh, she gasped, I’m glad it was you, startled that she had said the words out loud. She than started to coyly blushes, quite demurely. Something sparked in me, and unless she was an incredibly good actress, it did also for Katrina. Our eyes both looked into the others, melting away in the lust of the moment. We embraced, deeply, and I held her squirming warm slick figure tight in my enveloping arms. I looked over her shoulder, eyeing the glistening bracelet hanging from its branch. To catch a thief, the thought suddenly opened in my mind, what a great title for a novel I thought to myself, as I buried my nose into Katrina’s luxuriously soft hair.
We talked for a bit, walking off into the woods, then she looked into my eyes again, a coy, look that melted me on the spot, and that was the end of it, we embraced again, and wholly gave ourselves to one another. What about your man I asked suddenly remembering, my man she questioned , than oh, you mean the Lord, I was waiting for him to come down from smoking in his tower study, that’s where the lady’s jewels are kept. She broke into an Irish brogue as she said the last bit, and that I guessed was her natural tongue. she laid a hand on the side of my face, thanks for being jealous though, me lad.
I should collect my lure I said, which made her smile; it was such an enticing smile at that. We started to head back and watched as it dangled in front of us flickering. With a far off look in her green eyes, Katrina spoke as if in deep though.
The daughter of the house, she has a bracelet on like the one you have dangling, a bracelet of diamonds that I had taken a fancy to, wishing it had been in the safe along with the rest of the ladies of manors jewelry. I knew who she was talking about. The one in green taffeta I asked? Aye lad, that’s the one. Actually her necklace would be just as easy, and worth more I said. Just then her bright green eyes gleamed, Give me about a half an hour, she told me, we will put your little lure to use again. She noticed my hesitation, don’t worry luv she said soothingly placing a gloved hand to my cheek, no longer was it sparkly with its stolen bracelet and rings. I’ll leave my purse with you, can’t very well be carrying it around now can I? I nodded my consent, my mind burning with the thoughts she had alluringly placed there.
She turned, and then hesitated; turning back she said I probably should not go back in naked luv. I smiled, reaching in I pulled out her necklace and placed it around her throat. With a little gasp she blurted, so it was you, I was wondering who and when it had happened. It’s not the first time I’ve had me jewels lifted, but it’s a bloody annoyance to have to let them get away with it, crawls under my skin to have pretend not to notice so that I don’t draw any attention to me self before making my move to steal the posh ones jewels.
But you, mister, I never felt as much as a prickling. I was ready to assume my pretties had been a victim of a broken clasp this time. I gave a little nod in acceptance. That wasn’t exactly a compliment lad, she said in what I hopped was a subtle jest. Just last summer some clumsy bugger slipped of me earrings, my favorite pearls, as we were danc… she stopped, seeing the guilt in my eyes. Men! As thieves you are all of the same skin she spat out angrily, or attempted to sound angry, for the look in her eyes to me she wasn’t. I best be off, before I change me mind about out little endeavor.
With that she swirled around on her heels, and started off, but not before turning and giving me an extremely coy look of interest. As she swirled back around I heard her say loud enough for my ears, I’ll learn me self to be a picker of pockets, see how males like to be taken advantage of in their vulnerabilities! She nodded to herself as she said it. Then suddenly she stopped, than twirled on her heels, her gown swirling enticingly along her figure. Looking me dead in the eye she said, “Vie ne est pas d'attendre que la tempête , mais d'apprendre à danser sous la pluie” !
What does that mean? I questioned in a low voice, perplexed.
Maybe, Mon Cheri, someday I will tell you… And with that she turned on her heel, her gown once again swirling about, and went, determinedly, swishing her way back up the path. I just watched. I had never heard anyone speak French with an Irish Brogue and I had found it to be rather provocative!
I watched as she swished and swayed her way back through the hedge and regained the path leading back to the manor. Her plan was simple; she would lead the daughter of the house to my corner and as she had done, go out with her to look at the swinging charm. I would then make my appearance, rob both ladies of their finery, and telling the daughter to wait until I released her friend, walk off with Katrina as a hostage, and we would both take off and make good our escape. A simple plan, so simple it should actually work.
So, there I was. Holding a purse with a small fortune in jewels, my pocket full of more jewels worth an additional pretty farthing, and her charms were wearing off by her leaving. And my thieving nature coming back, reawakened from the spell they had been under!
The devil of my conscious crept out on my shoulder, the angel markedly absent from the other.
Look mate, she may not be all she seems, and possibly has some other game in mind. Maybe she does have a male confidante helping her out… and was actually on her way to fetch him. He said in my inner ear. And, after all, you took her diamonds twice, didn’t ye now? Do you really think shell forgive you of that me lad?
And there is no honor amongst thieves, as the saying goes, he added as a closing argument...
I rolled it over in my mind…I could leave, absconding with it all, book a cruise to the states or down under where there lay untried fertile grounds to ply my trade. Not to mention working over my fellow passengers aboard the cruise ship while they attended the fancy affairs that were always going on, or so the brochures always seemed to show……
Then In the distance I caught a wisp of Katrina’s long silvery gown. She was coming, and not only with the daughter of the manor, but also with a spare. For I could see a purple coloured gown swishing alongside with the prey in rustling green taffeta.. I watched as all three ladies, resplendent with the rippling fiery gems they all possessed, came up the path, gowns sweeping out , shimmery from the now misty distance.
The thought of making my escape with all the loot continued to haunt me, there was still time now to take off without notice, or I could rob all three, and leave with purple silk as my hostage, Katrina would not be able to say anything on chance of giving up her part of the game, or I could just be a good lad and sty with the script that Katrina had written. Take a chance, roll the dice and believe that she was all she had me believing she could ever be.
As they came closer I knew my time was running out. The thoughts of just looking out for myself kept coming up playing the devil with my conscience as the precious seconds ticked away…
No honor amongst thieves…
What will it be, old boy I challenged myself,
What will you have it be?........
To see what his decision ultimately was, and the eventual path it led to, see the album question answered)
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Life is not about waiting out the storm, but about learning to dance in the rain.
Vie ne est pas d'attendre que la tempête , mais d'apprendre à danser sous la pluie .
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Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
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Jharis has been given an articulated AA Texas A&M University Ken body. He is a full repaint with a permanent wig.
"Ain't I a Woman?," is the name given to a speech May 29, 1851
Sojourner Truth ( born Isabella ("Bell") Baumfree; c. 1797 – Nov 26, 1883) was an African-American abolitionist and women's rights activist. Truth was born into slavery in Swartekill, Ulster County, New York, but escaped with her infant daughter to freedom in 1826. After going to court to recover her son, in 1828 she became the first black woman to win such a case against a white man.
She gave herself the name Sojourner Truth in 1843 after she became convinced that God has called her to leave the city and go into the countryside "testifying the hope that was in her." Her best-known speech was delivered extemporaneously, in 1851, at the Ohio Women's Rights Convention in Akron, Ohio. The speech became widely known during the Civil War by the title "Ain't I a Woman?," a variation of the original speech re-written by someone else using a stereotypical Southern dialect; whereas Sojourner Truth was from New York and grew up speaking Dutch as her first language. During the Civil War, Truth helped recruit black troops for the Union Army; after the war, she tried unsuccessfully to secure land grants from the federal government for former slaves.
In 2014, Truth was included in Smithsonian magazine's list of the "100 Most Significant Americans of All Time".
Truth was one of the ten or twelve children born to James and Elizabeth Baumfree (or Bomefree). Colonel Hardenbergh bought James and Elizabeth Baumfree from slave traders and kept their family at his estate in a big hilly area called by the Dutch name Swartekill (just north of present-day Rifton), in the town of Esopus, New York, 95 miles (153 km) north of New York City. Charles Hardenbergh inherited his father's estate and continued to enslave people as a part of that estate's property.
When Charles Hardenbergh died in 1806, nine-year-old Truth (known as Belle), was sold at an auction with a flock of sheep for $100 to John Neely, near Kingston, New York. Until that time, Truth spoke only Dutch. She later described Neely as cruel and harsh, relating how he beat her daily and once even with a bundle of rods. Neely sold her in 1808, for $105, to Martinus Schryver of Port Ewen, a tavern keeper, who owned her for eighteen months. Schryver sold her in 1810 to John Dumont of West Park, New York. Although this fourth owner was kindly disposed toward her, considerable tension existed between Truth and Dumont's second wife, Elizabeth Waring Dumont, who harassed her and made her life more difficult. (John Dumont's first wife, Sarah "Sally" Waring Dumont (Elizabeth's sister), died around 1805, five years before he bought Truth.)
Around 1815, Truth met and fell in love with a slave named Robert from a neighboring farm. Robert's owner (Charles Catton, Jr., a landscape painter) forbade their relationship; he did not want the people he enslaved to have children with people he was not enslaving, because he would not own the children. One day Robert sneaked over to see Truth. When Catton and his son found him, they savagely beat Robert until Dumont finally intervened, and Truth never saw Robert again. He later died as a result of the injuries, and the experience haunted Truth throughout her life. Truth eventually married an older slave named Thomas. She bore five children: James, her firstborn, who died in childhood, Diana (1815), fathered by either Robert or John Dumont, and Peter (1821), Elizabeth (1825), and Sophia (ca. 1826), all born after she and Thomas united.
"Ain't I a Woman?,"
Artwork: TudioJepegii
I'm assuming this is a bit of Badger Business, given the size of the main hole at the top there. Either that or it's home to a Black Bear or something equally hefty.
Badger holes tend to be semi circular, or rather a capital D shape lying on its flat side, so if you ever need to cram a Badger through a hole, that's the shape to look for.
This didn't have that though, but still, it's a big hole and in fact, it divides into two tunnels just inside, a Y shape junction. I couldn't see if either or both continued or one was a dead end like lower down.
Whatever the beast was, he or she had a couple of tries first before settling for excavating the big hole higher up the bank here.
This is right beside a country lane though, amid a couple of farms near where I've found dead Badgers lying in the road in the past. Whatever it is has dug in a very visible place unfortunately.
A couple weeks ago I was given an assignment in a photography course to photograph what I see in my physical and social environment - nothing monumental or exotic, just to really SEE and photograph things around me. One of the things I love about photography is that it really does make me look at everything as if through a lens - looking for something interesting out of something ordinary. For two weeks I have tried and tried. I took pictures of clothes in my closet, stuff on my bathroom sink, a stethoscope at work and cat accoutrements in a plastic storage bin. My most honest critics came right out and told me that these pictures didn't work - I was trying too hard. Finally, I joked to George that what I really see in my every day environment are fur balls and kitty litter. So I sprawled out on the dirty floor (dried snow, rain, mud and salt) to photograph one of the many handy fur balls. Then I noticed Jimmy sitting right by me. I moved the direction of my lens slightly and took one shot before he got up and walked away. It's the picture I like best. Let's face it - in my own environment, what I really see are Jimmy, Mack and Ella.
I'll turn in Jimmy and the fur ball pictures to my instructor. It and my four rejects are in the comments. They are the 5 comments following my mom's glowing compliment of Jimmy - unless she figures out how to edit the time of her comment. lol
I was given a zombie cross stitch kit for my birthday this year. This is my first attempt at cross stitching.
+++ DISCLAIMER +++
Nothing you see here is real, even though the conversion or the presented background story might be based historical facts. BEWARE!
Some background:
The Arsenal (de l'Aéronautique) VB 31 was a French naval fighter aircraft developed shortly after World War II. In January 1947 Arsenal were given a contract to develop a powerful naval fighter for the four French aircraft carriers. Since the modernization of the Aéronavale was pressing, the aircraft had to be developed fast. In order to cut time, the initial concept, the VB 30, was based on the unrealized German Messerschmitt Me 155 project.
The Me 155 naval fighter had been a naval development of the Messerschmitt Bf 109G, intended for the German aircraft carrier Graf Zeppelin, which never saw the light of day. When it was clear that the Me 155 was a dead end, the basic design was developed further into a high altitude interceptor and the project handed over to Blohm & Voss. The resulting, highly modified Bv 155 saw the prototype stage in the late years of WWII, but was never put into service. Years later, though, the Me 155 should surface again: Evolved by Ingenieur-General Vernisse and M. Badie, the VB 30 did not only use many design features of the original Me 155 design, it also heavily drew on the indigenous VB 10 heavy fighter which had been previously under development since WWII.
The VB 30 was more compact than the VB 10, though, even though it had similar proportions. IIt was an all-metal single-seat fighter with a low-wing monoplane, a retractable tailwheel undercarriage and of largely orthodox configuration. The wings had an inverted gull wing shape, in order to shorten the main undercarriage as much as possible, and were foldable. The landing gear retracted inwards, and the tail wheel was retractable, too.
The VB 30's layout resembled much the smaller North American Mustang. The aircraft was powered by a powerful Arsenal 24 H engine which was theoretically capable of 3.400hp – itself a development based on the cylinder blocks of the German Junkers IV12 213 engine. A huge radiator bath for the liquid-cooled engine was located under the fuselage, at the wings’ trailing edge.
The aircraft was heavily armed, with a newly developed, compact 30mm cannon (which would eventually become the famous DEFA cannon), firing through the propeller axis, plus four HS-404 20mm cannons or six 12.7mm machine guns in the wings, outside of the propeller arc. Various ordnance loads, including bombs of up to 500 kg caliber, drop tanks or unguided missiles, could be carried under the fuselage and outer wings.
Unlike the huge, tandem-engined VB 10, the VB 30 was (relatively) more successful, but its career started under misfortunate stars: Just one month after the VB 10 contract was cancelled, the prototype VB 30-01 made its maiden flight on 8th of December 1948. Overall, the aircraft behaved well, but its low speed handling was hampered by the immense torque of the Arsenal 24 H engine and the huge, four-bladed propeller. This problem was eventually countered with an enlarged fin, which earned the type its nickname "Requin" (Shark).
With this and many other detail modifications the aircraft was now called VB 31and cleared for series production, even though it was already apparent that the future of the fighter lay with jet power. A second prototype, the VB 30-02, had been started, but its assembly lagged so much behind that it was eventually finished as the first serial VB 31. Anyway, the development of the VB 31 continued as a safety net for France's nascent jet fighter programs, since it was not clear when pure jets would eventually offer the appropriate performance for carrier use, and when they'd be ready for service.
The VB 31’s development saw several drawbacks, including constant problems with the complicated, liquid-cooled engine, the radiator system and the landing gear. Serial production and service introduction of the VB 31 started slowly and was delayed until January 1951 – by which the French Air Force already had to rely on surplus British and American fighters to tide it over until domestically-produced jet fighters appeared. Time was already working against the VB 31.
Additionally, with the brooding Indochina War since August 1945, the need for a maritime fighter and fighter-bomber became so dire that the Aéronavale had to order the WWII Vought F4U-7 to fill this specific gap and replace several obsolete types. The XF4U-7 prototype did its test flight on 2 July 1952 with a total of 94 F4U-7s built for the French Navy's Aéronavale (79 in 1952, 15 in 1953), with the last of the batch, the final Corsair built, rolled out on 31 January 1953. With this proven (and cheaper) alternative, only a single batch of 40 VB 31 aircraft (instead of the planned 200!) was eventually built and put into service.
The VB 31 just came in time for the First Indochina War between France’s French Far East Expeditionary Corps and Emperor Báo Dai’s Vietnamese National Army against the Viet Minh, Led by Ho Chi Minh and Vo Nguyen Giap. During this conflict, the French used many different pre Cold War aircraft of World War Two, as well as the new types.The VB 31 were distrubuted between Flotille 3F and 12F, where they replayced Curtiss SB2C Helldivers and Grumman F6F-3 Hellcats, respectively. Flotille 12F pilots arrived in Asia on board of the aircraft carrier 'Arromanches' in early 1952, equipped with both VB 31 and F4U-7 fighters. Both types were deployed from the carrier and also served from Haiphong for CAS and escort duties in the Tonkin area.
The operational era of the VB 31 did not last long, though. The type was powerful, but complicated. The VB 31 also needed much more maintenance than the sturdy Corsair, which could also take more damage and had a considerable larger range. Hence, already in June 1953, all VB 31 were returned to Europe and based at Hyères, where they replaced obsolete F6F-5 Hellcats and were mainly used for training purposes. In the early sixties, with naval jet fighters finally available, the VB 31 were quickly withdrawn and scrapped, being replaced by Sud-Ouest SO-203 'Aquilon' (license-built D.H. Sea Venom) and Dassault Etendard IVM.
General characteristics:
Crew: one, pilot
Length: 11.63 m (38 ft 8 in)
Wingspan: 13.07 m (43 ft 6 in)
Height (peopeller at max. elevation): 4,9 m (16 ft 1 in)
Powerplant:
1 × Arsenal 24 H, 2.260 kW (3.000 hp), driving a four-bladed propeller
Performance:
Maximum speed: 665 km/h (413 mph)
Range: 1.191 km (740 miles)
Service ceiling: 11.125 m (37.100 ft)
Rate of climb: 10.2 m/s (2008 ft/min)
Armament:
1× 30 mm cannon with 100 RPG, firing through the propeller axis
4× 20 mm HS-404 cannons with 200 RPG or 6×12,7mm machine guns with 250 RPG in the outer wings
1.500kg (3.300 lbs.) of external ordnance, including bombs of of to 454kg (1.000 lbs) calibre, drop tanks or up to eight unguided missiles under the outer wings.
The Kit and its assembly:
I wonder if you recognize the basis for this fantasy airplane? It's actually a modified Bv 155 kit from ART Model/Special Hobby from Russia (Both kits are identical; the ART Model contains an injected clear canopy while the Special Hobby kit offers two vacu canopies, though).
Inspiration struck when I read about the huge VB 10, which has, in its profile view, much resemblance to the Bv 155 - and the latter actually has some naval-friendly features, e .g .the raised cockpit, placed pretty far forward at the wings' leading edge, or the massive landing gear. Since France used some German aircraft after WWII (e.g. Fw 190 for the Air Force and Ju 188 for the Navy), why not create a naval fighter from the Me 155/Bv 155 concept? Well, here it is... the Arsenal VB 31.
For this fantasy conversion, the Bv 155 kit saw major modifications, e. g.:
● The wing span was reduced - from each wing, 4.2cm/1.65" were taken away
● The wings received a new inverted gull wing shape, the cuts came handy
● Outer wings were clipped by 10mm/0,4" each
● Original wing tips were transplanted and re-sculpted to fit
● The rear fuselage was shortened by about 1.3cm/0.5"
● A carburetor intake was added under the nose (from a Hawker Hurricane)
● New horizontal stabilizers from a Grumman Panther (Matchbox)
● Lower position of the horizontal stabilizers
● New landing gear wells had to be cut out, a simple interior was scratch-built
● The landing gear retracts now inwards, original struts and covers were slightly shortened
● New main wheels from a Douglas Skyknight (Matchbox) were used
● New tail wheel (front wheel of a Revell F-16, I guess)
● Modified tail section with an arrestor hook
● The original, extensive exhaust piping between the engine and the turbo charger had to go
● New exhausts at the nose were added (scratch, HO scale roof tiles)
● New propeller from a Matchbox Hawker Tempest was mated with the original spinner
● Cockpit was taken OOB, but a different seat, a pilot and a radio in the rear were added
● Some panel lines had to be re-engraved, due to putty work and/or logical reasons
● Missile hardpoints under the wings come from an F4U
● Antennae were added, accoring to French F4U-7 pictures
There actually was no big plan - I had an idea of what to make from the kit, but modifications came step by step, as the parts fell together and looked or looked not right.
The 24 cylinder Arsenal 24 H engine was really under development in France, so it was a neat choice for such a relatively large aircraft. The huge turbocharger bath under the fuselage of the Bv 155 could easily be taken as a radiator bath for the large, liquid-cooled engine, so that no additional adaptations had to be made.
Overall, I wanted to save the elegant lines of the Bv 155. With the reduced wing span the aircraft looks even elegant, IMHO. All in all, and with its slender, inverted gull wings, the VB 31 somehow reminds of the Ju 87 and the later paper Ju 187 development. There's also something IL-2ish to it?
A side note concerning the kit itself: it has nice engraved details and some fine resin parts for the cockpit or the radiators. But wall strength is high (up to 2mm!), the material is somewhat soft and waxy, and fit is mediocre, so expect serious putty work. Not a bad kit, but something for the experienced modeler. Things surely were worse here, since my modifications to wings and fuselage called for even more sculpting.
Painting and markings:
It took some time to settle on a French naval aircraft, since I already have an all dark-blue whif in my collection (the whiffy F1J Sea Mustang). But I had some appropriate decals at hand, and the time frame as well as the potential user offered a good and plausible story behind the VB 31 in Aéronaval service.
Overall, the aircraft was painted in Blue Angels Blue (FS 15050, Testors 1718) and weathered with slightly lighter shades of blue and grey, for a sun-bleached look and in order to emphasize the panel lines. One can argue about this tone: many Aéronavale aircraft look much darker, rather like FS 15042, but I have seen pictures of such bright aircraft - I'd assume that the color standard was not very strict, as long as the aircraft was "dark blue"?
After basic painting the VB 31 looked very bright, so I did some major dry painting with darker/duller shades like Humbrol 67, 77 and 104 to tame things down, and the result is O.K. now.
The interior surfaces were painted in Mid Stone and dry-painted with Chromate Yellow (Humbrol 225 and 81). AFAIK, this is the typical interior finish for Aéronavel aircraft of that time, and it is a nice contrast to the dark and uniform outside.
Most markings come from an F4U-7 decal sheet, some things like the tail rudder Tricolore had to be improvised (comes from a 30 year old Airfix Bristol Blenheim decal sheet!).
Beyond the dry-painted blue and grey hues on the upper surfaces, the model was slightly weathered with exhaust and soot stains and some dry-painted silver on the leading edges. This makes the all-blue aircraft look a bit more lively and is IMHO authentic for Aéronavale fighters of the 50ies, esp. under the harsh climate of South East Asia.
Finally, everything was sealed under a semi-matt varnish (Tamiya Acryllics, rattle can), and some additional matt varnish was applied on the upper surfaces, also for a dull and sun-bleached look.
The kit was built in a week from sprues to pictures, overall a sleek and elegant aircraft with plausible lines - an hommage to the many elegant and innovative aircraft which were developed in France in WWII and later but which are easily overlooked today!
©All photographs on this site are copyright: DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams) 2011 – 2020 & GETTY IMAGES ®
No license is given nor granted in respect of the use of any copyrighted material on this site other than with the express written agreement of DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams) ©
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Photograph taken at an altitude of Fifty seven metres at 08:32am on Thursday 30th April 2020 off Hurst Lane and New Road in the grounds of Abbey Wood in the London Borough of Bexley, England. Abbey wood joins to Lesnes abbey wood and Abbey wood open space as well as Bostall Heath and woods.
After weeks of self isolation due to the global pandemic that we know as COVID-19 Coronavirus, we are allowed to go out for exercise once per day and keep away from others. A walk in the local woodlands after the rain came today to taste the fresh air and get my limbs moving again.
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Nikon D850 Hand held with Nikkor VR Vibration Reduction enabled on normal setting. Focal length 29mm Shutter speed: 1/25s Aperture f/6.3 iso250 Image area FX (36 x 24) NEF RAW L (8256 x 5504). NEF RAW L (14 bit uncompressed) Image size L (8256 x 5504 FX). Focus mode AF-C focus. AF-C Priority Selection: Release. Nikon Back button focusing enabled. AF-S Priority selection: Focus. 3D Tracking watch area: Normal 55 Tracking points.AF-Area mode single point & 73 point switchable. Exposure mode: Manual exposure. Matrix metering. Auto ISO sensitivity control on (Max iso 800/ Miniumum shutter speed 125). White blance on: Auto1. Colour space: RGB. Actve D-lighting: Normal. Vignette control: Normal. Nikon Distortion control: Enabled. Picture control: Auto (Sharpening A +1/Clarity A+1
Nikkor AF-S 16-35mm f/4.0G IF ED VR. Lee filters SW150 holder. Lee filters SW150 77mm screw in adapter ring. Lee filters Circular Polariser Glass filter. Lee filters SW150 filters field pouch. Mcoplus professional MB-D850 multi function battery grip 6960.Two Nikon EN-EL15a batteries (Priority to battery in Battery grip). Matin quick release neckstrap. My Memory 128GB Class 10 SDXC 80MB/s card. Lowepro Flipside 400 AW camera bag. Nikon GP-1 GPS module. Hoodman HEYENRG round eyepiece oversized eyecup.
LATITUDE: N 51d 29m 6.39s
LONGITUDE: E 0d 7m 30.71s
ALTITUDE: 57.0m
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RAW (TIFF) FILE: 130.00MB NEF: 94.0MB
PROCESSED (JPeg) FILE: 46.00MB
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PROCESSING POWER:
Nikon D850 Firmware versions C 1.10 (9/05/2019) LD Distortion Data 2.018 (18/02/20) LF 1.00
HP 110-352na Desktop PC with AMD Quad-Core A6-5200 APU 64Bit processor. Radeon HD8400 graphics. 8 GB DDR3 Memory with 1TB Data storage. 64-bit Windows 10. Verbatim USB 2.0 1TB desktop hard drive. WD My Passport Ultra 1tb USB3 Portable hard drive. Nikon ViewNX-1 64bit Version 1.4.1 (18/02/2020). Nikon Capture NX-D 64bit Version 1.6.2 (18/02/2020). Nikon Picture Control Utility 2 (Version 2.4.5 (18/02/2020). Nikon Transfer 2 Version 2.13.5. Adobe photoshop Elements 8 Version 8.0 64bit.
I should have given the film a bit more speed or a bit longer in the second developer bath. But you know I'm okay with this dark moody look and feel. I took a bit of work in post processing to get some details out, but overall, it looks like Tech Pan!
Minolta Maxxum 9 - Minolta Maxxum AF 20mm 1:2.8 - Kodak Technical Pan @ ASA-80
Diafine (Stock) 3:00 + 0:45 @ 20C
Scanner: Epson V700 + Silverfast 9 SE
Editor: Adobe Photoshop CC
One of Da Lats charm is the laid-back way of living of the local people. On any given day, from early morning to late at night, Da Lat's Central market is bustling with activities. Unlike most market in Vietnam, Da Lat's market has an open promenade where people can walk about. At the end of the promenade is a stair leading to the Le Dai Hanh Street, one of Da Lat's major thoroughfare.
Da Lat enjoys favorable weather year round. During the winter months the average temperature in Da Lat is 10 degrees C. During the summer months the average temperature here is 18 degrees C. The locals claim that Da Lat is Vietnam's botanical garden in the middle of a pine forest. Many of the countrie's fruits and vegetables come from this part of the country.
When visiting Dalat, the city of mist and pine trees, tourists should be sure to experience the pleasure of visiting Dalat’s night market. Dalat city is small, the city streets are not dense and market activities happen only in Hoa Binh Zone at Dalat market. That is why the Dalat Night Market contributes to the beauty of Dalat’s cultural features.
The night market is located in the Hoa Binh Zone, in the area around Nguyen Thi Minh Khai Street, Le Dai Hanh Street and Tang Bat Ho Street, within walking distance of many restaurants. On weekends walkers can stroll to the market on a pedestrian walkway that was opened in Dalat on November 2003. Tourists should note that all vehicles are forbidden on this walkway between 7p.m. to 10 p.m.
The history of Dalat Market is also interesting. Originally named “Wood Market”, the market was built in 1929 by French ambassador Chassaing and was located at the site where the Hoa Binh Theatre is nowadays. The market was made from pine wood, which is the reason people call it Wood Market. It burned down in 1937 and was rebuilt in brick. In 1958 the market was moved its present location.
A unique feature of the night market is the “shouting market” which can be found on the upper floor of the market, near the bridge, where clothes are sold. The vendors display their clothes from 4 p.m. and when the buyers start to wander in the rhythmic shouting of the sellers trying to attract their attention can be heard all around the area, giving it the name “shouting market”. The market sells mainly sweaters and jackets in many different sizes and colours at surprisingly cheap prices. Shoppers should not forget to bargain; sweaters can be purchased for anything from VND 20,000 to VND 80,000.
Leaving the shouting market, tourists can stroll past kiosks in Hoa Binh Town, and perhaps drop into a pine tree crafting shop to buy a piece of pine tree with their name engraved for a souvenir, before walking down the stairs into the Hoa Binh Zone to Dalat Market.
The street in front of Dalat night market is lighted with neon lights from the shops in the street sides. Canvas is spread on the streets to display hand-knit jumpers, woollen hats, woollen scarves, and much more. The sellers do not shout in this market but the atmosphere is also lively. Here shoppers will find Dalat ethnic fabric items with higher prices; for example, a small ethnic fabric purse will cost VND 30,000. Nevertheless, tourists will appreciate the beautiful fabrics and the variety of items available.
Dalat Night Market also has a food-corner offering dishes made from shellfish and duck eggs. Steaming hot pots of shell-fish and duck eggs are hard to resist in the colder climate of Dalat. Enjoying this special dish with hot soya milk on a cool evening is an unforgettable memory. The market also sells vegetable for tourists to buy as gifts to take home for their friends.
Rolleiflex 3.5f
Ilford HP5 plus, pushed to 800.
Ilford Microphen.
9min 36sec
Epson V600
(16bit grey scale, 2400dpi, medium sharp, dust removal)
Aperture
Given the direction of the sun not an easy train to photograph at this time of year - 66031 on hire to DRS is seen slowing for a signal check at Carnoustie whilst working 4A13 Grangemouth to Aberdeen Craiginches.
Reminds me of when the EWS operated Inverness intermodal was diverted via Aberdeen on occasions when the HML was unavailable.
Given that it is the 40th anniversary of Network Southeast this week, it makes sense to upload a shot of perhaps one of the sector's greatest achievements, that of delivering the Thameslink 'core' between Farringdon and Blackfriars, thereby enabling cross-London north-south services to operate, the service and stations now being considerably enhanced in 2026 from what was originally offered. Here, Class 319 319 039 is seen at Blackfriars in September 1988 forming a service towards Gatwick Airport, which had no doubt started at Luton or Bedford. These versatile units continued to operate the line until the mid-2010 when displaced by Class 700's. This example was later converted to a Class 769.
Scanned from an acquired slide.
Given that the weather has prevented me from going into Swansea CIty Centre for some LE shots, this is a hand held shot of The Christmas Tree on Swansea's newly revamped Kingsway taken after being out to lunch with an old school pal
[256:366]
Wasn't feeling very motivated to spend a lot of time on today's photo so I was pleasantly surprised when I came home to find this guy loitering outside my front door.
The focus isn't quite as I would have liked it, but with only the macro adapter I'm quite limited on the focal point. And when I came back with the tripod to try a few shots to focus stack with, he'd gone away. I guess this was the end of his photo shoot.
Also, I'm a bit behind tonight, thanks to the traffic caused by Ottawa's sinkhole, so I will be playing catch up with your streams, comments and messages tomorrow.
Happy half way point everyone!
Click "L" to view on a darker background.
St Andrew, Honingham, Norfolk
I had almost given up hope of seeing inside Honingham church, until my friend John told me he'd arranged for it to be open, and would I like to come along? In truth, I was wary about meeting a character I had encountered at the church some ten years previously; not so much for what had happened, but that I had written about it in some detail afterwards. I was a little apprehensive, therefore, to turn up and discover that the man opening the church was the same one I had met all those years before. But it didn't matter, because he didn't remember me, and probably had never read what I had written.
And I found I liked Honingham church rather more than I had expected to. There is a rich atmosphere of the last decade of the 19th Century and the first decade of the 20th, and the Victorian glass is really very good. It can't have much of a congregation, and I decided that it was essentially a churchwarden's hobby church, a fiefdom. He obviously did everything here, kept in in good order looking spick and span and shipshape, and locked it determinedly against anyone who wanted to see inside without attending a service. I imagined that even God would have to wipe his feet and mumble apologetically if he wanted to get inside. All well and good for now, but once the churchwarden has gone it will soon be lost to us.
In 2006, I wrote: This big, locked, Perpendicular building, the nave and chancel rebuilt by the Victorians, is surrounded by a wide graveyard. On the north side there are sparsely scattered headstones, but to the south the church is set within a wide murderous curve of the A47. To describe this church as a landmark on the road is to assume that it would be safe to look up from the wheel to spot it; the stretch of the road between here and Hockering has claimed more deaths than any other since the A47 was taken outside the villages. I'm not suggesting that the church is responsible for this, of course, just that spotting it shouldn't be one of your priorities.
If a Martian came down and landed in the graveyard of St Andrew, Honingham, what on earth he would make of it? Would he think it was an art object? A barn, or storage facility? Or would he search for an industrial purpose? Perhaps the tall pinnacles on the tower might suggest to him that he was at the site of a scientific experiment. If the Martian had any brains, and I assume that he would have if he'd made it this far, he might perceive that the road is a lot newer than the church, and perhaps he would decide that the church was a relic of the past, its function now sidelined, perhaps forgotten altogether. Indeed, he might wonder if the road had been built deliberately to speed humans past this building and the tall stones set around it.
Perhaps this was a dangerous place. Or, maybe, it was simply an embarrassing reminder of past superstitions, a haunted site. An unlucky place, perhaps. The Martian might watch the traffic hurtling past, the drivers deliberately not looking, and think yes, that must be right. Whatever he decided, it would have to be based on a survey of the exterior, because St Andrew is always locked, unless the Sunday club is in session. He wouldn't even be able to look through the windows, because they are filled with frosted quarries.
Eventually, he might find the porch, and think it is some sort of antechamber (not an entrance, of course, for the doors beyond are locked) and for a moment ponder the holy water stoup, now filled with an old birds nest. What on earth would he make, I wonder, of the signboard on the wall that reads in part:
Friend, you have come to this church. Leave it not without a prayer.
No one entering a house ignores him who dwells in it.
This is the house of God, and He is here.
Pray, then, to him who loves you, and bids you welcome, and awaits your greeting.
A lovely sentiment, no doubt; but the Martian would still be left locked out of the house of God - if it is the house of God, of course, for if the locks and chains keep out the stranger and the pilgrim, how on earth can it be that God is in there to bid us welcome?
My friend Peter had been trying to see inside this church for years. We came this way most recently in early March, 2006. The day had started in bright sun, but as we headed here from Marlingford the east wind blew sheets of glacial cloud above us, which turned grey and, as we parked the car, turned to snow. Parking is difficult; there is a layby, but you need to approach from the west to park here. Otherwise, there is a drive which goes up to the east end of thechurch, but this was already occupied by a large BMW estate. We parked in the layby, and sat in the car for a moment, watching the fat flakes thicken.
What to do? We decided that we might just as well get out and go and take a look. Either, by some miracle, the church would be open and offer us shelter, or we could confirm our prejudices about the perpetual locking of St Andrew and be on our way.
The south side of the church has been cleared of headstones, and they have been placed in two perfectly straight lines, about 15 m apart. What would the Martian make of this? Some sort of sports arena, perhaps? Or a place to worship the sun at the solstice?
Our Martian couldn't possibly be expected to know about the great lawnmower enthusiasm of the 1960s and 1970s, when so many graveyards were cleared like this one. But the dead have their revenge, and this wide open space is now scattered with an acne of molehills.
We got into the porch and tried the inner door, which was locked of course; although it did feel as though one great shove with a shoulder would probably open it. And that was when the heavens opened. The snow was so thick in the air we could only just make out the suicidal cars thrashing up the main road to and from the Midlands. Peter is a careful driver, and he didn't much fancy heading on in a blizzard, and there didn't seem much point getting caked in snow just to go back and sit in the car, so we sheltered from the weather in the porch, and read the notices miserably.
I noticed that the presentation to the living had been suspended, which sounds drastic but simply means that the parish can't afford a Rector. The annual accounts were posted, and I noticed that the total income for the year was roughly the same as the weekly income of the church I attend in the middle of Ipswich, so this is a small parish. Eventually, I exhausted the possibilities of the noticeboard, and, feeling that I had probably squeezed the last ounce of pleasure out of the porch, I gazed out at the graveyard. This was when I noticed something rather curious. The back of the BMW estate was open, and beyond the second line of gravestones a smartly dressed man was standing in the snow bashing molehills with a spade.
At first I thought this must be an act of devotion on the part of a parishioner, or simply a Saturday morning habit. And then I wondered if it might be some kind of East Anglian country lore: if in the snow you clear his stack, mister mole will not be back. Perhaps this man had been waiting for it to snow for months.
We watched him for a while, the snow blanketing the sound of his spade into silence, rendering it surreal. But the wind was vicious, and so we stepped back into the porch, and worked out where we wanted to go next. It was while we were pondering over the map that we heard footsteps, and looking up saw that the smartly dressed man had approached us. He looked at us quizzically.
"Just here out of interest?" he asked.
"Well, we'd like to be", I replied, indicating the door. "But the church is locked."
This was such a heavy hint that, once dropped, it hit the floor with a loud clang. Surely, if this man had a key, he'd give it to us, or let us in. But he just smiled sadly and nodded in agreement, as if to say yes, the church was locked, and there was nothing he could do about it. Perhaps he'd been trying to see inside for years as well. Instead, the three of us exchanged a few polite comments about the weather, and he wandered off back to the moles.
The snow gradually thinned, and at last it stopped. We stepped out, examining the sky for signs. An uneasy truce had set in. Just a thin dusting remained on the grass to show that it had ever snowed; the sun was edging to come out, the white rime on the green fading, but there were more sheets of greying clouds huddled off in the distance. It was time to go. We wanted to make a statement of some kind, and so we left the porch gates open, as if to suggest that the the doors were not barred, and that God was in His dwelling house waiting to bid a welcome.
But by the time we got back to the car and headed eastwards past the church, someone had already closed them.
3075 was the 2nd of its type into service as one of 5 test buses a full 3 months ago now but still looks as new
Given myself an alphabet soup game. Two new photos and another two from my photostream or archives, when possible.
As I loathe sewing with a passion it's amazing that I have any needles in the flat to photo. Let alone find one for my game.
You can see the whole set/album here in alphabetic order.
www.flickr.com/photos/44506883@N04/sets/72157650127170829
Thank you for your favourites. :O)
©All photographs on this site are copyright: ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams) 2011 – 2021 & GETTY IMAGES ®
No license is given nor granted in respect of the use of any copyrighted material on this site other than with the express written agreement of ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams). No image may be used as source material for paintings, drawings, sculptures, or any other art form without permission and/or compensation to ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams)
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I would like to say a huge and heartfelt 'THANK YOU' to GETTY IMAGES, and the 48.894+ Million visitors to my FLICKR site.
***** Selected for sale in the GETTY IMAGES COLLECTION on Friday 28th July 2023
CREATIVE RF gty.im/1573564150 MOMENT ROYALTY FREE COLLECTION**
This photograph became my 6,808th frame to be selected for sale in the Getty Images collection and I am very grateful to them for this wonderful opportunity.
©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams)
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Photograph taken at an altitude of Three metres at 12.22pm on Monday 29th May 2014 off 2903 Ocean Boulevard, Victoria, on the Esquimalt Lagoon Migratory Bird Sanctuary, on the Juan De Fuca Strait, Vancouver Island, British Columbia, Canada.
The Lagoon is one of seven Migratory Bird Sanctuaries in British Columbia, and an important stopover for birds journeying between North and South America. Visitors include geese and Swans, Bald Eagles and Great Blue Herons, plus many other species of birds.
The Great Blue Heron (Ardea Herodias) is a wading bird in the Heron family Ardeidae and found in North America, Central America, the Caribbean and Galapagos Islands. One of the largest of Herons, it has a head to tail length of 01-137 centimetres (36-54 inches) and a wingspan of 187-201 centimetres (66-79 inches). They are found where my family live, and naturally very wary of mankind, flying off as soon as you are within fifty to one hundred yards of them.
Nikon D850 Single-lens reflex digital camera F Mount with FX CMOS 35.9mm x 23.9mm Image sensor 46.89 Million total pixels Focal length: 500mm Shutter speed: 1/200s (Mechanical shutter) Aperture f/11.0 iso64 Tamron Vibration Control set to position 1 Image area Full Frame FX (36 x 24) NEF RAW L 45.4Million pixels (8256 x 5504) 14 Bit uncompressed AF-C Priority Selection: Release Nikon Back button focusing enabled 3D Tracking watch area: Normal 55 Tracking points Exposure mode: Manual mode Metering mode: Matrix metering White balance on: Auto1, A1.00, M0.25 (5880k) Colour space: Adobe RGB Picture control: (SD) Standard (Sharpening +3.00/Clarity +1.00)
Tamron SP 150-600mm F/5-6.3 Di VC USD G2. Nikon GP-1 GPS module. Hoodman HEYENRG round eyepiece oversized eyecup. Black Rapid Curve Breathe strap. My Memory 128GB Class 10 SDXC 80MB/s card. Lowepro Flipside 400 AW camera bag. Nikon EN-EL15a battery.
LATITUDE: N 48d 25m 35.10s
LONGITUDE: W 123d 27m 46.00s
ALTITUDE: 3.0m
RAW (TIFF) FILE: 130.00MB NEF: 90.7MB
PROCESSED (JPeg) FILE: 26.10MB
PROCESSING POWER:
Nikon D850 Firmware versions C 1.21 (8/12/2022) LD Distortion Data 2.018 (16/01/20) LF 1.00 Nikon Codec Full version 1.31.2 (09/11/2021)
HP 110-352na Desktop PC with Windows 10 Home edition AMD Quad-Core A6-5200 APU 64Bit processor. Radeon HD8400 graphics. 8 GB DDR3 Memory with 1TB Data storage. 64-bit Windows 10. My Passport USB 3.0 2TB portable desktop hard drive. Nikon NX STUDIO 64bit Version 1.2.2 (08/12/2022). Nikon Capture NX-D 64bit Version 1.6.2 (18/02/2020). Nikon Picture Control Utility 2 (Version 2.4.5 (18/02/2020). Nikon Transfer 2 Version 2.16.0 (08/12/2022). Adobe photoshop Elements 8 Version 8.0 64bit.
The peg is off . Northern Rail 150110 and 150220 are about to pass Buxton SB working the 2B18 1208 Manchester Piccadilly - Buxton terminating service .
19 4 21
Similar to my other upload taken at Radipole Lake Weymouth UK , given a 70s sort of colour look in photoshop
Given my very, very brief visit in Boston, sleep was, unfortunately, not quite on the agenda for this night photographer. After exploring the city the night before, I went to bed around midnight only to wake up around 3:45am so I could find the location I had in mind for the sunrise at 5:48am.
I have never used GPS to find any location. I’m an avid connoisseur of maps, globes, and road atlases. (Yes, I’m rather "19th century" in that sense). Of course, in my confused state of mind somewhere between lethargy and exhilaration, I realized I had forgotten my maps in the hotel room. It was too late, though -- the key was in the ignition and I was already driving through the empty streets of downtown Boston. Going back to get the maps would waste precious time, which I had so little of, so I had to use my wits and regional topography to get me to East Boston.
For me, there’s always something very enjoyable about cruising on the empty highways of a major American city when everyone’s asleep! With the cool wind blowing through the windows, I began to wake from my drowsy stupor. With a few right turns and a few wrong turns, I managed to reach an alternative spot to get the view you see posted above.
The place I really wanted to be was a good mile and a half (2.4km) away, which is where this photo was achieved (after jogging the distance and avoiding a skunk in the park who seemed to be oddly drawn to me and wanted my company that early in the morning -- I had to dodge that fellow with stealth). Running with one's camera, backpack, and tripod while racing with the sunrise is no easy feat. That skunk almost blew my chances too!
Regardless, these are the entertaining details of my adventures of capturing Boston before dawn! Have an excellent week!
The Boston galleries (City Images) (Aerials) are completed and now available on my official website, which has also been overhauled, and undergoing more changes! Enjoy!
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©All photographs on this site are copyright: DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams) 2011 – 2020 & GETTY IMAGES ®
No license is given nor granted in respect of the use of any copyrighted material on this site other than with the express written agreement of DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams) ©
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I would like to say a huge and heartfelt 'THANK YOU' to GETTY IMAGES, and the 35.253+ Million visitors to my FLICKR site.
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Photograph taken at an altitude of Sixteen metres, at 09:23am on Tuesday 7th September 2019 off Miami bridges trail head above the beach at Harrison Lake in the village of Harrison Hot springs.
In the distance we see Mount Breakenridge situated in the Lilloet ranges of Southwestern British Columbia. The mountain stands 2,395 metres tall, and takes it's name from Sapper Archibald T. Breakenridge,making a reconnaissance survey in 1859
Harrison is a small community at the Southern end of Harrison Lake where Harrison River flows inwards in the Fraser valley of British Columbia in Canada. Known for it's hot springs, it has a population of around fifteen hundred people and was named after Benjamin Harrison, who formerly worked as Deputy governor for the Hudson's Bay Company.
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Nikon D850. Focal length 52mm Shutter speed 1/125s Aperture f/16.0 iso500 RAW (14 bit uncompressed) Image size L (8256 x 5504 FX). Hand held with Nikon VR Vibration Reduction enabled. Focus mode AF-C focus 51 point with 3D- tracking. AF-Area mode single point & 73 point switchable. Exposure mode - Aperture priority exposure. Nikon Back button focusing enabled. Matrix metering. ISO Sensitivity: Auto. White balance: Natural light auto. Colour space Adobe RGB. Nikon Distortion control on. Picture control: Auto. High ISO NR on. Vignette control: normal. Active D-lighting Auto.
Nikkor AF-S 24-120mm f/4G ED VR. Cokin GND4 resin filter . Nikon EN-EL15a battery.Mcoplus professional MB-D850 multi function battery grip 6960. Matin quick release neckstrap. My Memory 128GB Class 10 SDXC 80MB/s card. Lowepro Flipside 400 AW camera bag. Nikon GP-1 GPS module. Hoodman HEYENRG round eyepiece oversized eyecup.
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LATITUDE: N 49d 18m 15.20s
LONGITUDE: W 121d 47m 29.17s
ALTITUDE: 16.0m
RAW (TIFF) FILE: 130.00MB NEF: 90.7MB
PROCESSED (JPeg) FILE: 40.10MB
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PROCESSING POWER:
Nikon D850 Firmware versions C 1.10 (9/05/2019) LD Distortion Data 2.017 (20/3/18) LF 1.00
HP 110-352na Desktop PC with AMD Quad-Core A6-5200 APU 64Bit processor. Radeon HD8400 graphics. 8 GB DDR3 Memory with 1TB Data storage. 64-bit Windows 10. Verbatim USB 2.0 1TB desktop hard drive. WD My Passport Ultra 1tb USB3 Portable hard drive. Nikon ViewNX-1 64bit (Version 1.3.1 11/07/2019). Nikon Capture NX-D 64bit (Version 1.4.7 15/03/2018). Nikon Picture Control Utility 2 (Version 1.3.2 15/03/2018). Adobe photoshop Elements 8 Version 8.0 64bit.
Name: Mary Bryan
Arrested for: not given
Arrested at: North Shields Police Station
Arrested on: 22 February 1907
Tyne and Wear Archives ref: DX1388-1-43-Mary Bryan
The Shields Daily News for 1 March 1907 reports:
“ALLEGED FRAUD AT NORTH SHIELDS.
At North Shields Police Court today, Margaret Bryan (70), widow, Lawson Street, was charged on a warrant, with having obtained, by means of false pretences, groceries to the value of 12s 10d, from Mary Dignan, between the 28th Jan. and the 2nd Feb.
Mr G.R. Duncan appeared for the defence. The evidence showed that the accused came to the shop of the prosecutrix in Vicarage Street on three occasions between the dates mentioned and was supplied with groceries on credit. She said her husband was a plater employed at Smith’s Dock and that she would pay on the Saturday. Mrs Dignan made enquiries and found that her statement was incorrect.
Upon a point raised by Mr Duncan the case was adjourned until tomorrow for the production of the prosecutrix’s books.
The Shields Daily News for 2 March 1907y reports:
“THE NORTH SHIELDS FALSE PRETENCES CASE. ACCUSED BOUND OVER.
At the North Shields Police Court this morning, Mary Bryan (70), married, 26 Lawson Street, was charged on remand with obtaining groceries to the value of 12s 10d, by false pretences, from Mary Dignan, between Jan. 28 and Feb. 2.
The case was adjourned from yesterday for the production of an order book by the prosecutrix. This was handed in and minutely examined by Mr Duncan, who represented the accused. Detective Radcliffe spoke to apprehending the accused at 26 Lawson Street, and charging her with the offence. She denied the offence but admitted having received the groceries. Chief Constable Huish said on the day the woman was arrested he asked her where her husband was and she then told him she was a widow. After being remanded yesterday, witness asked her if she was a widow and she replied, “Yes, a grass widow”. She also said her husband had been in the workhouse for about five years and during the last two years had been in that institution permanently. He was 80 years of age. Witness made enquiries at the workhouse and there found her husband, who was 74 years of age.
Mr Duncan: Do you think it quite English to interrogate a defendant after a remand?
The Chief Constable: I considered it fair to the woman herself. The woman and her daughter had been travelling between Newcastle, Wallsend and North Shields, taking houses and obtaining goods as in this case, and had used four different names.
The accused gave evidence on her own behalf and denied making any false statement to the prosecutrix. She certainly did not say that her husband was a plater and worked at Smith’s Dock as the prosecutrix alleged.
Mr Duncan pleaded for leniency and the Bench bound her over for 6 months to come up for judgement if called upon. They suggested that the money should be refunded. If she paid it back, the magistrates would take it into consideration when she came up again for sentence”.
(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.
Carreg yr Imbill is the remains of a large dolerite with pegmatite pods and quarry at Pwllheli, Gwynedd, Wales.
The dolerite was mined by the Liverpool and Pwllheli Granite Company (sometimes known as the Pwllheli Granite Company), which used the diorite for stone setts to pave the streets.
The worked out quarry forms the basis for a large holiday village which is run by the Haulfryn Group, the same company which runs The Warren in Abersoch.
Pwllheli is a market town and community on the Llŷn Peninsula (Welsh: Penrhyn Llŷn), north-west Wales. It lies in the traditional county of Caernarfonshire but is currently administered as part of the unitary authority of Gwynedd. It had a population of 4,076 in 2011, the population declining slightly to 3,947 in 2021. of whom a large proportion, 81%, were Welsh speaking. Pwllheli is the place where Plaid Cymru was founded. It is the birthplace of the Welsh poet Sir Albert Evans-Jones (bardic name Cynan).
Pwllheli has a range of shops and other services. As a local railhead with a market every Wednesday, the town is a gathering point for the population of the whole peninsula.
The town's name means salt-water basin.
The town was given its charter as a borough by Edward, the Black Prince, in 1355, and a market is still held each Wednesday in the centre of the town on 'Y Maes' (‘the field’ or ‘the town square’ in English).
The town grew around the shipbuilding and fishing industries and the granite quarry at Gimlet Rock (Welsh: Carreg yr Imbill).
The population in 1841 was 2,367.
During the 1890s the town was developed by Solomon Andrews, a Cardiff businessman. This work included the promenade, roads and houses at West End. A tramway was built linking the town to Llanbedrog. The trams ran until 1927, when the section of track between Carreg-y-Defaid and Tyddyn-Caled was seriously damaged by a storm. Andrews ran the Cardiff Road section in 1928 and offered to sell the tramway to Pwllheli Corporation at the end of the season, but they did not take up his offer. He then sold the assets and the Corporation removed the tracks during the winter of 1928/29.
Poet Albert Evans-Jones, who was an archdruid for the National Eisteddfod of Wales and was known by his bardic name 'Cynan', was born in Pwllheli; before becoming an archdruid he joined the First World War effort through the Welsh Student Company of the RAMC, serving in Salonika and France, initially as an ambulance driver and medic, later as the company's chaplain. He was the son of the proprietor of the Central Restaurant in Penlan Street, Pwllheli.
Pwllheli Town Council consists of fifteen members elected from the North and South wards.
Pwllheli North and Pwllheli South are the county wards covering the town; they each elect one county councillor to Gwynedd Council.
Ysgol Glan y Môr was formed by the merger in 1969 of the former Pwllheli Grammar School at Penrallt and the Frondeg Secondary Modern School in Upper Ala Road to form a comprehensive school based on two sites in the town. The junior pupils (year 1 and year 2) were located at the Penrallt site and the senior pupils (year 3 and upwards) at a new complex in Cardiff Road. This new school was subsequently expanded to accommodate all pupils under the Ysgol Glan y Môr name.
The Penrallt site was later redeveloped as the Pwllheli campus of Coleg Meirion-Dwyfor. The façade of the main building of the old grammar school was retained and incorporated into the design of the current college buildings. Thus the 'old school' is readily seen from the town square (Y Maes), as it has been since the former Pwllheli County School moved to Penrallt in the early 20th century.
Pwllheli railway station is the terminus of the Cambrian Coast Railway, running to Machynlleth with services continuing to Shrewsbury and Birmingham. The station is operated and served by Transport for Wales. The rail link to Caernarfon via the Carnarvonshire Railway was axed under the Beeching cuts and as a result it closed in December 1964.
Pwllheli is connected to the wider road network by the A497 to Porthmadog and the A499 to Caernarfon. From there major roads lead away from Gwynedd to the rest of Wales.
Buses serve most of the town as well as the rest of the wider Llŷn Peninsula. Services to Caernarfon give connections to Bangor.[citation needed] Pwllheli bus station is in the town centre.
Attractions
Plas Bodegroes, which until 2009 was a Michelin starred restaurant
Penarth Fawr, a 15th-century house
Hafan y Môr, a former Butlins holiday camp now operated by Haven
Pwllheli Market
Neuadd Dwyfor, a theatre and cinema in Penlan Street
Pwllheli has a section of the Wales Coast Path along its shoreline.
Pwllheli has a small harbour at the confluence of the Afon Erch and Afon Rhyd-Hir.
Hafan Pwllheli is a marina built in Pwllheli Harbour during the 1990s.
Notable people
Eleazar Roberts (1825–1912), musician, translator, writer and amateur astronomer
Owen Davies (1840–1929), Baptist minister and writer
Sir (Albert) Cynan Evans-Jones CBE (1895–1970), bardic name Cynan, was a war poet and dramatist.
William Richard Williams (1896–1962), Principal of the United Theological College, Aberystwyth
John Robert Jones (1911–1970), philosopher
Hywel Williams (born 1953), Plaid Cymru politician, MP for Arfon, previously Caernarfon, since 2001
David Dawson (born 1960), artist
Gareth Pierce (born 1981), actor and musician
Pwllheli hosted the National Eisteddfod in 1925, 1955 and 2023 as well as an unofficial National Eisteddfod event in 1875.
According to the United Kingdom Census 2011 80% of the population spoke Welsh.
Pwllheli is home to association football team Pwllheli F.C., rugby union team Pwllheli RFC and running club Llŷn Striders. There is a hockey club, Clwb Hoci Pwllheli, which is part of the rugby, cricket and hockey club.
Pwllheli is a hub for water sports, owing in part to a marina, Pwllheli Sailing Club and Plas Heli - the Welsh National Sailing Academy.
The town has two beaches, South Beach and Glan-y-don. South Beach stretches from Gimlet Rock, across the Promenade and West End, towards Penrhos and Llanbedrog. Glan-y-don Beach is on the eastern side of the river mouth and runs for 3 miles (5 km) from behind the marina workshops and out towards Penychain (holiday camp).
The town has a golf club on the Llŷn coastline.
Gwynedd is a county in the north-west of Wales. It borders Anglesey across the Menai Strait to the north, Conwy, Denbighshire, and Powys to the east, Ceredigion over the Dyfi estuary to the south, and the Irish Sea to the west. The city of Bangor is the largest settlement, and the administrative centre is Caernarfon. The preserved county of Gwynedd, which is used for ceremonial purposes, includes the Isle of Anglesey.
Gwynedd is the second largest county in Wales but sparsely populated, with an area of 979 square miles (2,540 km2) and a population of 117,400. After Bangor (18,322), the largest settlements are Caernarfon (9,852), Bethesda (4,735), and Pwllheli (4,076). The county has the highest percentage of Welsh speakers in Wales, at 64.4%, and is considered a heartland of the language.
The geography of Gwynedd is mountainous, with a long coastline to the west. Much of the county is covered by Snowdonia National Park (Eryri), which contains Wales's highest mountain, Snowdon (Yr Wyddfa; 3,560 feet, 1,090 m). To the west, the Llŷn Peninsula is flatter and renowned for its scenic coastline, part of which is protected by the Llŷn AONB. Gwynedd also contains several of Wales's largest lakes and reservoirs, including the largest, Bala Lake (Llyn Tegid).
The area which is now the county has played a prominent part in the history of Wales. It formed part of the core of the Kingdom of Gwynedd and the native Principality of Wales, which under the House of Aberffraw remained independent from the Kingdom of England until Edward I's conquest between 1277 and 1283. Edward built the castles at Caernarfon and Harlech, which form part of the Castles and Town Walls of King Edward in Gwynedd World Heritage Site. During the Industrial Revolution the slate industry rapidly developed; in the late nineteenth century the neighbouring Penrhyn and Dinorwic quarries were the largest in the world, and the Slate Landscape of Northwest Wales is now a World Heritage Site. Gwynedd covers the majority of the historic counties of Caernarfonshire and Merionethshire.
In the past, historians such as J. E. Lloyd assumed that the Celtic source of the word Gwynedd meant 'collection of tribes' – the same root as the Irish fine, meaning 'tribe'. Further, a connection is recognised between the name and the Irish Féni, an early ethnonym for the Irish themselves, related to fían, 'company of hunting and fighting men, company of warriors under a leader'. Perhaps *u̯en-, u̯enə ('strive, hope, wish') is the Indo-European stem. The Irish settled in NW Wales, and in Dyfed, at the end of the Roman era. Venedotia was the Latin form, and in Penmachno there is a memorial stone from c. AD 500 which reads: Cantiori Hic Iacit Venedotis ('Here lies Cantiorix, citizen of Gwynedd'). The name was retained by the Brythons when the kingdom of Gwynedd was formed in the 5th century, and it remained until the invasion of Edward I. This historical name was revived when the new county was formed in 1974.
Gwynedd was an independent kingdom from the end of the Roman period until the 13th century, when it was conquered by England. The modern Gwynedd was one of eight Welsh counties created on 1 April 1974 under the Local Government Act 1972. It covered the entirety of the historic counties of Anglesey and Caernarfonshire, and all of Merionethshire apart from Edeirnion Rural District (which went to Clwyd); and also a few parishes of Denbighshire: Llanrwst, Llansanffraid Glan Conwy, Eglwysbach, Llanddoged, Llanrwst and Tir Ifan.
The county was divided into five districts: Aberconwy, Arfon, Dwyfor, Meirionnydd and Anglesey.
The Local Government (Wales) Act 1994 abolished the 1974 county (and the five districts) on 1 April 1996, and its area was divided: the Isle of Anglesey became an independent unitary authority, and Aberconwy (which included the former Denbighshire parishes) passed to the new Conwy County Borough. The remainder of the county was constituted as a principal area, with the name Caernarfonshire and Merionethshire, as it covers most of the areas of those two historic counties. As one of its first actions, the Council renamed itself Gwynedd on 2 April 1996. The present Gwynedd local government area is governed by Gwynedd Council. As a unitary authority, the modern entity no longer has any districts, but Arfon, Dwyfor and Meirionnydd remain as area committees.
The pre-1996 boundaries were retained as a preserved county for a few purposes such as the Lieutenancy. In 2003, the boundary with Clwyd was adjusted to match the modern local government boundary, so that the preserved county now covers the two local government areas of Gwynedd and Anglesey. Conwy county borough is now entirely within Clwyd.
A Gwynedd Constabulary was formed in 1950 by the merger of the Anglesey, Caernarfonshire and Merionethshire forces. A further amalgamation took place in the 1960s when Gwynedd Constabulary was merged with the Flintshire and Denbighshire county forces, retaining the name Gwynedd. In one proposal for local government reform in Wales, Gwynedd had been proposed as a name for a local authority covering all of north Wales, but the scheme as enacted divided this area between Gwynedd and Clwyd. To prevent confusion, the Gwynedd Constabulary was therefore renamed the North Wales Police.
The Snowdonia National Park was formed in 1951. After the 1974 local authority reorganisation, the park fell entirely within the boundaries of Gwynedd, and was run as a department of Gwynedd County Council. After the 1996 local government reorganisation, part of the park fell under Conwy County Borough, and the park's administration separated from the Gwynedd council. Gwynedd Council still appoints nine of the eighteen members of the Snowdonia National Park Authority; Conwy County Borough Council appoints three; and the Welsh Government appoints the remaining six.
There has been considerable inwards migration to Gwynedd, particularly from England. According to the 2021 census, 66.6% of residents had been born in Wales whilst 27.1% were born in England.
The county has a mixed economy. An important part of the economy is based on tourism: many visitors are attracted by the many beaches and the mountains. A significant part of the county lies within the Snowdonia National Park, which extends from the north coast down to the district of Meirionnydd in the south. But tourism provides seasonal employment and thus there is a shortage of jobs in the winter.
Agriculture is less important than in the past, especially in terms of the number of people who earn their living on the land, but it remains an important element of the economy.
The most important of the traditional industries is the slate industry, but these days only a small percentage of workers earn their living in the slate quarries.
Industries which have developed more recently include TV and sound studios: the record company Sain has its HQ in the county.
The education sector is also very important for the local economy, including Bangor University and Further Education colleges, Coleg Meirion-Dwyfor and Coleg Menai, both now part of Grŵp Llandrillo Menai.
The proportion of respondents in the 2011 census who said they could speak Welsh.
Gwynedd has the highest proportion of people in Wales who can speak Welsh. According to the 2021 census, 64.4% of the population aged three and over stated that they could speak Welsh,[7] while 64.4% noted that they could speak Welsh in the 2011 census.
It is estimated that 83% of the county's Welsh-speakers are fluent, the highest percentage of all counties in Wales.[9] The age group with the highest proportion of Welsh speakers in Gwynedd were those between ages 5–15, of whom 92.3% stated that they could speak Welsh in 2011.
The proportion of Welsh speakers in Gwynedd declined between 1991 and 2001,[10] from 72.1% to 68.7%, even though the proportion of Welsh speakers in Wales as a whole increased during that decade to 20.5%.
The Annual Population Survey estimated that as of March 2023, 77.0% of those in Gwynedd aged three years and above could speak Welsh.
Notable people
Leslie Bonnet (1902–1985), RAF officer, writer; originated the Welsh Harlequin duck in Criccieth
Sir Dave Brailsford (born 1964), cycling coach; grew up in Deiniolen, near Caernarfon
Duffy (born 1984), singer, songwriter and actress; born in Bangor, Gwynedd
Edward II of England (1284–1327), born in Caernarfon Castle
Elin Fflur (born 1984), singer-songwriter, TV and radio presenter; went to Bangor University
Bryn Fôn (born 1954), actor and singer-songwriter; born in Llanllyfni, Caernarfonshire.
Wayne Hennessey (born 1987), football goalkeeper with 108 caps for Wales; born in Bangor, Gwynedd
John Jones (c. 1530 – 1598), a Franciscan friar, Roman Catholic priest and martyr; born at Clynnog
Sir Love Jones-Parry, 1st Baronet (1832–1891), landowner and politician, co-founder of the Y Wladfa settlement in Patagonia
T. E. Lawrence (1888–1935), archaeologist, army officer and inspiration for Lawrence of Arabia, born in Tremadog
David Lloyd George (1863–1945), statesman and Prime Minister; lived in Llanystumdwy from infancy
Sasha (born 1969), disc jockey, born in Bangor, Gwynedd
Sir Bryn Terfel (born 1965), bass-baritone opera and concert singer from Pant Glas
Sir Clough Williams-Ellis (1883–1978), architect of Portmeirion
Owain Fôn Williams, (born 1987), footballer with 443 club caps; born and raised in Penygroes, Gwynedd.
Hedd Wyn (1887–1917), poet from the village of Trawsfynydd; killed in WWI
©All photographs on this site are copyright: ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams) 2011 – 2021 & GETTY IMAGES ®
No license is given nor granted in respect of the use of any copyrighted material on this site other than with the express written agreement of ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams). No image may be used as source material for paintings, drawings, sculptures, or any other art form without permission and/or compensation to ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams)
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I would like to say a huge and heartfelt 'THANK YOU' to GETTY IMAGES, and the 50.696+ Million visitors to my FLICKR site.
***** Selected for sale in the GETTY IMAGES COLLECTION on Wednesday 26th February 2025
CREATIVE RF gty.im/2201908400 MOMENT ROYALTY FREE COLLECTION**
This photograph became my 7,288th frame to be selected for sale in the Getty Images collection and I am very grateful to them for this wonderful opportunity.
©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams)
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Photograph taken at an altitude of Fifty seven metres at 13:59pm on an overcast afternoon on Tuesday 25th February 2025, off Chessington Avenue in Bexleyheath, Kent.
We are so lucky to have a nesting pair of Kestrels that have frequented our garden for water and to hunt smaller birds and mice, for over a year and a half now. I was in the kitchen cooking lunch when this beautiful Male Kestrel (Falco tinnunculus), came and landed in the Walnut tree (Juglans) next door. It is a bird of prey belonging to the kestrel group of the falcon family Falconidae. It is also known as the European kestrel, Eurasian kestrel, Common Kestrel or Old World kestrel. In the United Kingdom, where no other kestrel species commonly occurs, it is generally just called kestrel.
Female kestrels are an unremarkable shade of mid-brown, with their upper parts a richer shade than their breast and underparts. Their wingtips are darker brown than the rest of their bodies, and their tails are light brown, barred with darker, almost black banding. Female kestrels’ bodies are speckled all over with mottled darker markings.
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Nikon D850 Focal length: 600mm Shutter speed: 1/1600s (Mechanical shutter) Aperture f/6.3 ISO Sensitivity: ISO320 Hand held with Tamron Vibration Control set to position 1 Image area FX (36 x 24) NEF RAW L (8256 x 5504) (14 bit uncompressed) Focus Mode: AF-C Nikon Back button focusing enabled AF-S Priority selection: Focus AF-Area Mode: 3D Tracking watch area: Normal 55 Tracking points Exposure mode: Manual exposure Metering mode: Matrix metering White balance on: Auto1, A1.00, M0.25 (5740K) Colour space: RGB Active D-Lighting: Low Picture control: (SD) Standard (Sharpening +3 Clarity +1.00)
Tamron SP 150-600mm F/5-6.3 Di VC USD G2. Nikon GP-1 GPS module. Hoodman HEYENRG round eyepiece oversized eyecup. Mcoplus professional MB-D850 multi function battery grip 6960.Two Nikon EN-EL15a batteries (Priority to battery in Battery grip). Black Rapid Curve Breathe strap. My Memory 128GB Class 10 SDXC 80MB/s card. Lowepro Flipside 400 AW camera bag.
LATITUDE: N 51d 28m 28.21s
LONGITUDE: E 0d 8m 10.54s
ALTITUDE: 57.0m
RAW (TIFF) FILE: 130.00MB NEF: 91.2MB
PROCESSED (JPeg) FILE: 37.30MB
PROCESSING POWER:
Nikon D850 Firmware versions C 1.10 (9/05/2019) LD Distortion Data 2.018 (18/02/20) LF 1.00
HP 110-352na Desktop PC with AMD Quad-Core A6-5200 APU 64Bit processor. Radeon HD8400 graphics. 8 GB DDR3 Memory with 1TB Data storage. 64-bit Windows 10. Verbatim USB 2.0 1TB desktop hard drive. WD My Passport Ultra 1tb USB3 Portable hard drive. Nikon ViewNX-1 64bit Version 1.4.1 (18/02/2020). Nikon Capture NX-D 64bit Version 1.6.2 (18/02/2020). Nikon Picture Control Utility 2 (Version 2.4.5 (18/02/2020). Nikon Transfer 2 Version 2.13.5. Adobe photoshop Elements 8 Version 8.0 64bit.
©All photographs on this site are copyright: ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams) 2011 – 2021 & GETTY IMAGES ®
No license is given nor granted in respect of the use of any copyrighted material on this site other than with the express written agreement of ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams). No image may be used as source material for paintings, drawings, sculptures, or any other art form without permission and/or compensation to ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams)
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I would like to say a huge and heartfelt 'THANK YOU' to GETTY IMAGES, and the 39.909+ Million visitors to my FLICKR site.
***** Selected for sale in the GETTY IMAGES COLLECTION on Saturday September 4th 2021
CREATIVE RF gty.im/1337646504 MOMENT ROYALTY FREE COLLECTION**
This photograph became my 5,191st frame to be selected for sale in the Getty Images collection and I am very grateful to them for this wonderful opportunity.
©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams)
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Photograph taken at an altitude of One hundred and twenty two metres at 12:47pm on a miserable cloudy day on Wednesday 1st September 2021 off Church Lane in the village of Godstone. Godstone is a village in the civil parish of Surrey, England, covering an area of 6.973 square miles.
Here we see the top of St Mary's Chapel and St Mary's homes founded in 1872 and built in a romantic half timbered free Tudor style to a design of Sir George Gilbert Scott who, at that time, lived nearby and was also carrying out extensive works to the adjoining church of St Nicholas.
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Nikon D850 Hand held with Nikkor VR Vibration Reduction enabled on normal setting. Focal length 52mm Shutter speed: 1/200s Aperture f/13.0 iso200 Image area FX (36 x 24) NEF RAW L (8256 x 5504). NEF RAW L (14 bit uncompressed) Image size L (8256 x 5504 FX) Focus mode: AF-C focus AF-C Priority Selection: Release Nikon Back button focusing enabled. AF-S Priority selection: Focus AF-Area mode: 3D Tracking watch area: Normal 55 Tracking points.AF-Area mode single point & 73 point switchable Exposure mode: Manual exposure Metering mode: Matrix metering White balance on: Auto1, 0 0 (5740K) Colour space: RGB Active D-lighting: Normal Picture control: (NL) Neutral (Sharpening A +2)
Nikkor AF-S 24-120mm f/4.0G ED VR. Lee filters SW150 holder. Lee filters SW150 77mm screw in adapter ring. Lee filters Circular Polariser Glass filter. Lee filters SW150 filters field pouch. Mcoplus professional MB-D850 multi function battery grip 6960.Two Nikon EN-EL15a batteries (Priority to battery in Battery grip). Matin quick release neckstrap. My Memory 128GB Class 10 SDXC 80MB/s card. Lowepro Flipside 400 AW camera bag. Nikon GP-1 GPS module. Hoodman HEYENRG round eyepiece oversized eyecup.
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LATITUDE: N 51d 14m 47.04s
LONGITUDE: E 0d 3m 24.56s
ALTITUDE: 122.0m
RAW (TIFF) FILE: 130.00MB NEF: 93.8MB
PROCESSED (JPeg) FILE: 41.20MB
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PROCESSING POWER:
Nikon D850 Firmware versions C 1.10 (9/05/2019) LD Distortion Data 2.018 (18/02/20) LF 1.00
HP 110-352na Desktop PC with AMD Quad-Core A6-5200 APU 64Bit processor. Radeon HD8400 graphics. 8 GB DDR3 Memory with 1TB Data storage. 64-bit Windows 10. Verbatim USB 2.0 1TB desktop hard drive. WD My Passport Ultra 1tb USB3 Portable hard drive. Nikon ViewNX-1 64bit Version 1.4.1 (18/02/2020). Nikon Capture NX-D 64bit Version 1.6.2 (18/02/2020). Nikon Picture Control Utility 2 (Version 2.4.5 (18/02/2020). Nikon Transfer 2 Version 2.13.5. Adobe photoshop Elements 8 Version 8.0 64bit.
Given that I live in Hernando, we always access Goodman Road from the off-ramp from northbound Interstate 55. I preface these photos with that disclaimer because I have been told by l_dawg2000 that the southbound off-ramp is not quite as far along as this northbound one.
That said, this northbound off-ramp is looking pretty good! As you can see in this image, the fresh pavement is complete, with striping as well – but that's not the main feature here. No, that would be those three overhead signs. You see, previously this intersection had a traffic signal with one left-turn lane, and what I believe l_dawg dubbed “country” right-turn lanes, where you simply merge into traffic with a yield sign (no waiting at a stoplight necessary).
The problem with that setup here on Goodman Road is that, with eastbound Goodman (headed into Southaven) being five lanes, there were lots of instances where drivers would have to weave and squeeze their way over across all the traffic to make it to the left-turn lane at the next traffic signal, heading toward Baptist Memorial Hospital (seen in the background of the previous pic). My dad calls that sort of maneuver a "Saudi sweep." So, to remedy that... (cont.)
(c) 2018 Retail Retell
These places are public so these photos are too, but just as I tell where they came from, I'd appreciate if you'd say who :)
Given the space constraints, I had but little choice to shoot too closely at wide angle. I'm a bit embarrassed.
2022: Pebble Beach Pavilions: Bentley
Sketch given to me by Cecs. I ended up going back and fixing some of the sloppiness up and adding a couple of small details, so this isn't the final.
Here is the final - www.hosteighteen.com/gallery/images/shots avet.jpg
One of the UK's only remaining Nissen Huts from the Second World War has been given a new lease of life by a Norfolk school. Based in the grounds of Wymondham College, the hut has been used as a Chapel for more than 70 years but has now benefitted from £100,000 worth of refurbishment work. Staff believe the building is the last of 80 Nissen Huts built during the Second World War by the United States Army Air Forces to still be in use, opened in 1941 as a military hospital. Most were demolished or converted to homes or agricultural buildings but the Wymondham hut was purchased by the college and was used as a chapel, but kept in its original form.
To celebrate the 70th anniversary in 2021, the college decided to add a heritage centre to the facility, raising the money in a fundraising campaign which has been running since 2021.
Graham Usher, Bishop of Norwich, re-dedicated the chapel in a service on Monday (January 29th) that welcomed many guests including the college's first head boy from 1951. The college's principal Zoe Fisher said: “It was a joy to celebrate our rich heritage and for our students to be part of such a special occasion''.
''We were honoured to have so many guests from the college’s past and were delighted that the bishop and His Majesty’s deputy lieutenant (Ian Lonsdale) could join us, the sun shone on what was a glorious occasion.” The heritage centre aims to celebrate the history and development of the college campus from the Roman and Anglo-Saxon periods.
During its time in service, the building served 15 Heavy Bomber bases, a fighter group, engineers, quartermaster and ordnance troops and approximately 60,000 soldiers. Doctors at the hospital pioneered new treatments using antibiotics and it was one of the few US military hospitals to treat white and black soldiers in mixed wards.
Following D-Day on June 6th, 1944, the hospital expanded its capacity from 834 to 1,254 beds to accommodate casualties returning from Normandy. Hospital trains brought casualties to Wymondham railway station and they were taken to the hospital by a fleet of military ambulances.
Information sourced from – Wymondham College WW2 USAAF Nissen Hut £100k chapel revamp | Norwich Evening News www.eveningnews24.co.uk/news/23289728.wymondham-college-w...