View allAll Photos Tagged glutation
I don’t usually pay much attention to our nearest beach. Just three miles from home along a narrow winding downhill road past the local pasty emporium (seven out of ten for the flaky steak variety), Porthtowan has always been a bit of a curate’s egg to me. It’s as good as any of them for surfing, although high tide can be a bit of an adventure, and the Blue Bar with its bay windows offering expansive sea views is a popular haunt in these parts, but I’ve never really got my head around how to smuggle a decent photograph home from here. The only pictures I’ve ever taken worth sharing are of surfers in action, using the wonderful 70-200mm lens that’s faster than Usain Bolt in a hurry for the bus. Maybe that’s still the case – you can decide that for yourself. But when there’s Portreath just a couple of miles further down the coast, and then my favourite playground at Godrevy another ten minutes’ drive away from there, it always seems so easy to end up heading west instead. Unless of course I’m going the other way towards Holywell Bay. The common factor among those favoured beaches is that you can look out to sea and there will be an obvious focal point to settle the camera on. It’s the same when I head down towards the infinite pleasures around Land’s End. Perhaps it’s a lack of imagination on my part, but I do like to give you a sporting chance of realising what you’re supposed to be looking at when you take the time to view my images.
But Ali likes to bring Rosie here, her sister’s cocker spaniel who loves to race over the clifftops in her endless search for unwary rabbits. Sometimes I go with them, just to get a breath of air and a small dose of vitamin D from those mood filled winter skies, and New Year’s Day brought a classic “I suppose I’d better move my backside from the sofa” moment. The Great Escape wasn’t on the TV anyway as far as I could tell, and if Steve McQueen couldn’t be bothered to entertain me with his motorcycle antics then it seemed that the world was telling me to go outside and embrace it. I don’t always take the camera with me on these outings, but then again, I usually regret it as soon as I take one look at the sea. A couple of weeks earlier we’d arrived here on a sunny Thursday afternoon; one of those calm winter days when the Atlantic was propelling perfectly formed rollers crowned with snowy white plumes of seaspray towards the shore. The phone clearly wasn’t up to it and I cursed myself for failing to do the simplest of things and putting the camera in the bag with a suitably long lens. The sense of lost opportunity from that beautiful day remained with me, and since then each time I’ve gone to the clifftop tooled up for action – albeit without a tripod.
I hadn’t intended to do anything more than take a couple of shots to dabble with half-heartedly in an idle moment in Lightroom later, but as we arrived at the view over the beach, two things caught my eye. Firstly, the swell was in a playful mood, with phases where groups of waves would break extravagantly across the scene. And secondly the cliffs beyond somewhere just off Portreath to the west had almost completely disappeared into a haze of sea mist. Normally from this spot you can see all the way across to St Ives, even on a dull day, but today things were different. And so the inevitable came home to roost. With seascapes every single image is unique, bringing the usual inability to know when to stop that afflicts me every time I’m in this situation, and my co-walkers were soon somewhere over the horizon above me on their circuit towards Chapel Porth of the eastern side of the cliff.
I really should have brought a tripod with me. I’d made my usual mistake of bringing the unforgiving but lightweight budget lens with the enormous focal range; the one where I’m never sure about exactly what it’s focusing on. I tried sitting on the grass, then balancing the camera on my knee and using the touchscreen autofocus, but I couldn’t really see the composition properly. Through the viewfinder I tried it alternately in autofocus and then in manual focus, producing another glut of raw files that would take some sifting later. As the time since I’d last seen Ali and Rosie increased, soft peachy tones began to gently warm the sky. With little idea as to whether I’d got a worthwhile shot, I eventually decided that enough was enough and chased off along the path in search of my companions. The inside of Ali’s car may resemble a farmyard as a result of the extracurricular dog walking activities, but getting into it was still far preferable to walking home. Besides which we might get a cup of tea at her sister’s house as a reward for our efforts.
Later that evening the sifting began. The good news was that each time I went through the many, image number 9048 stood out. After three passes through the lot of them, firstly on the PC’s photo viewing software and then in Lightroom, image 9048 was still the one that caught my attention. I think it was the two lines of breaking waves that singled it out. And gradually, very much like that Tamron lens and Porthtowan itself, the image grew on me. The energy of the ocean below me and the soft sky palette had conspired to win me over. Somehow from this unprepared adventure I’d managed to wrestle an image I thought worthy of sharing with this most discerning of audiences. I hope it passes muster.
Still wish I’d taken my tripod though. Do have a lovely weekend.
It's harvest time, and I can't escape the cucumbers. Luckily, I love them and eat at least two every day.
louie louie, or louie II, the newest member of our household.
as I said, I am out of polaroid film and low on 120 b&w, so I dug out my digital camera; there will be a glut of digitals for awhile.
I don't care much for digital, I don't feel like part of the process of picture making.
but in a pinch...
so...
dog sagas in digital
4 more below
** my website
**I love comments and I'll take faves, too, but I don't like big group icons, so please, don't put them here. I'll delete them, and you.
sorry.
I’ve ever noticed these before but apparently they are quite common and there seems to be a glut of them this year making them more noticeable. They are produced by a tiny wasp called Neuroterus numismalis. Each of these tiny donut shaped structures is about 2mm across. Plenty of information on Wikipedia here en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neuroterus_numismalis. I’m not big on macro photography but I thought I’d have a go with this interesting subject. Although the depth of this image is only two or three millimetres I got the best results by stacking several images in Affinity Photo.
Das macht, es hat die Nachtigall
Die ganze Nacht gesungen;
Da sind von ihrem süßen Schall,
Da sind in Hall und Widerhall
Die Rosen aufgesprungen.
Sie war doch sonst ein wildes Kind;
Nun geht sie tief in Sinnen,
Trägt in der Hand den Sommerhut
Und duldet still der Sonne Glut
Und weiß nicht, was beginnen.
Das macht, es hat die Nachtigall
Die ganze Nacht gesungen;
Da sind von ihrem süßen Schall,
Da sind in Hall und Widerhall
Die Rosen aufgesprungen.
Theodor Storm
Thanks for your comments and faves,they are truly appreciated
.inositol,ba,glut,35shots 1 15sec iso100 2um olyx20 liquid
I thought it was about time I had a break from the recent Iceland glut. Not that there aren’t still about three dozen Nordic tales waiting to be shared. You see, I bought one of those “print your own book” deals a few months ago. After some thought, I concluded that I wanted it to consist solely of stories from those two trips to Iceland. At the time, the end of September deadline didn’t seem too pressing, but at the start of last month I decided it was time to make a start, and I soon realised that there was a lot of work ahead if the finished article was going to look and feel how I wanted it to. The tales from my Flickr feed would be the backbone of the coffee table volume that is guaranteed to be ignored by everyone except for myself. What I can tell you is that there are about twenty-five stories, written and rewritten, that haven’t appeared in these pages yet. And I still need to devote time to the final ten or twelve essays needed to complete the project. Besides that, there are photos to be edited, frowned at, jettisoned and then restored on appeal. At least the exercise gave me a kick up the backside and persuaded me to get on with editing all of those images from last September, plus a few from three years earlier for that matter. Be prepared for a lot more from Iceland - just saying! I’ve already completed one book full of images and yarns from adventures on the doorstep here in Cornwall - it’s collecting dust very nicely thank you. Maybe somebody will pick it up and take a look one day - who knows?
All of this has meant of course that I’ve neglected other subjects recently. Apart from my own home turf, there are still plenty of episodes from the last eighteen months and more that need to be shared. I know that this is starting to sound familiar to some of you - you’re all too aware how easy it is to come home from an adventure, download all the raw files from your SD card and then not quite get around to developing them. Only a few weeks ago Ali and I spent nine days touring Wales in the van. I know for a fact there are images from this latest trip that I should be jumping up and down with excitement about. Shots that I’m very much looking forward to working on, and would be already if I hadn’t gone into Icelandic overdrive. Wait until you see the view we had from our campsite overlooking Snowdonia and the Llyn Peninsula. I didn’t get my breath back for about four days.
So here we are, back in Cornwall, towards the end of the winter, when one windy afternoon I drove the short distance to St Agnes Head. I’d gone out with the half hearted intention of using the telephoto lens on the Towanroath Engine House at Wheal Coates from the cliffs to the east, but had become sidetracked by the waves smashing into the rocks around Tubby’s Head. Thinking I was only going to pause here briefly, I ended up spending the entire outing sitting on the same rock, the tripod lying in the grass at my side as I ramped up the ISO and attempted that most frightening of pursuits - wildlife photography. If indeed this can be called wildlife photography. In fact I think it’s rather more a case of wild sea photography and “oh look he managed to get a bird in the shot by some lucky accident!”
Of course any serious wildlife tog would laugh at the description as they polish off their six hundred millimetre bazooka and produce a crystal clear image of their own, shot at point blank range with the eyes staring right down the lens. But where’s the fun in perfection? This wasn’t wildlife, it was high octane winter shenanigans as I watched the gulls dicing with big watery explosions against the ocean wall, racing away at the last nanosecond to escape the moment. The bird is about as sharp as a fistful of soggy cotton wool, but I think I prefer it like that, catching the whirring of wings as it makes the late break to safety.
All in all, I took five hundred and forty exposures in a little over half an hour, a growing sense of exasperation spreading through my veins as I wondered how long it would take to sift through them all. Two thirds of them were culled pretty quickly in fact - after all if it’s a total fail, the axe falls easily - but that still left plenty of them to pore over in confusion. Some however, like this one, were easy to add to the pick list for further work - even if that gull was a blur of action. It’s a story I’ve been meaning to share ever since I saw it on the back of the camera.
Ok so that’s one overdue tale told. Now, hands up, who wants to see a cloud of sea spray in the shape of a flying piglet?
La passerelle en bois construite et posée en 1995 (technique d'assemblage en lamellé-collé) - lauréate du concours d'architecture - sur la rivière Sarine entre les rives de Broc et de Gruyères. Cette passerelle en bois a été remplacée par une passerelle métallique au printemps 2014.
The wooden footbridge built and installed in 1995 (glue-laminated assembly technique) - winner of the architectural competition - on the river Sarine between the banks of Broc and Gruyères. It was replaced by a metal bridge in spring 2014.
En el último tiempo la espelta revive poco a poco, en particular en la sección biológica. Esto es así entre otros, porque muchos alérgicos la aprecian y porque contiene los ácidos grasos omega 3, omega 6 y omega 9 así como también minerales. Hay muchos cruces de Espelta con Trigo pero para utilizar la espelta como substituto del trigo esta tiene que ser pura. Su consumo origina menos alergias que el trigo pero, al contener también gluten, de ninguna manera es apta para celíacos.
I’d just nodded off when I heard the phone barking excitedly at me. And although it’s set to silent mode from 11pm each night, a few close family members such as my son are able to get hold of me in the small hours - just in case of emergencies. I’m not sure exactly where a sighting of the Northern Lights over his home in Wadebridge ranks on the grand scale of existential crises, but living this far south in the UK, it’s certainly a very rare event. I blinked at my phone, cursed quietly when I saw the hour, and peered through the bedroom window into the inky night. No Aurora here, at least not that I could see. Not even the merest shimmer of green.
For a while I lay awake, feeling the aching muscles that had carried me through five a side football just a few hours earlier. Quite what I think I’m achieving by continuing to play twice a week with less than two years to go until I reach sixty is anyone’s guess, but despite the tired limbs and the fact that several of the regulars are younger than my tracksuit bottoms and my white Paris St Germain top, I’m still loving it too much to give up just yet. When we returned from lockdown three years ago, almost all of the old gang retired within a few months, leaving just a very small rump of us fifty-somethings with the vacancies filled by a glut of youngsters. And now, into the first hours of Saturday, I lay in bed in the darkness feeling no urge whatsoever to go out and explore. Besides which I’d had a large whisky after dinner - so driving anywhere was out of the question.
The next morning I awoke to a steady stream of images on social media, showing me exactly what I’d missed. And I’m not just talking about your carefully composed works of art here, but phone snaps from friends, stumbling about in their gardens after midnight, trying not to fall into the goldfish pond as they stood in wonderment under a colourful night sky such as they’d never seen before. You’ve all seen those images - many of you have taken them too so I don’t need to go any further. I looked at the app to see a riot of red banners with ever increasing numbers next to them. Later, the weather forecaster said it was the biggest solar storm in twenty-one years, yet I’d missed it. I really should have paid more attention to the news bulletin earlier that night. With clear skies, something special had been on the cards and I’d ignored it in favour of a generous single malt to soften the after effects of chasing round a sports hall trying to keep up with the opposition, some of them young enough to be my grandsons.
Later on Saturday Ali and I headed down to Godrevy to meet one of you for the very first time. Christine was here with her husband Dave to shoot the sea thrift, although it seemed they were probably here a weekend too early. They too had witnessed the previous night’s spectacle, as I soon saw on the back of Christine’s camera. “Where had I been?” Suffering then - and suffering the ignominy of missing it ever since, came the answer. Seriously, it’s at moments like these when you question your commitment to this hobby. I’m sure I could have hobbled over to the woods across the road and found something to shoot my aurora with. There are plenty of old mining ruins around here for starters.
And so on Sunday morning, once again in the small hours, I looked at the app, which had by now been buffering since tea time. Yet although the red flags were no longer playing, I was still receiving red alerts on the hour. I looked out of the window at the sky and could see the stars. And as fortune only favours the ones who actually get out there, I set off for Wheal Coates to enjoy an hour of underachievement in the pitch black night. I couldn’t see a thing, and though my camera was picking up the purples in the sky, the episode was doomed. A little after 3am, I headed back to the car, telling myself there would be more opportunities, even if I am at a point in life that I’m no longer sure I can wait another twenty-one years.
So from me at least, nothing speaks more plainly of failure this week than my posting an image that isn’t of the Aurora. But I can at least congratulate those of you who did manage to capture the lights, and it does give me the most tenuous of excuses to share this one from last winter. More glorious light, albeit western light rather than the magic of the north. Next time, I’ll stay away from the Scotch and make sure I’m there alongside you to capture one of nature’s greatest shows.
Here's Christine's photo, taken about half a mile along the beach from here: www.flickr.com/photos/christine192/53715593422/in/datepos...
Und du sagst, du denkst an mich
Die Lüge zeichnet dein Gesicht
Und es stirbt ein Stück in mir
Weil du mich nicht ma' vermisst
Bitte geh, geh weit weg
Und nimm das Chaos weg von mir
Vor Last erdrückt, mein Atem schwer
Ertrink' ich trotzdem im Tränenmeer
Wann wird der Schmerz endlich vergeh'n?
Endlich verbrenn'n, nur die Glut überlebt
Ein Haufen Asche im Winde verweht
Es bleibt nichts mehr zurück von mir
Bitte geh, geh weit weg
Und nimm das Chaos weg von mir
Und mein Herz, es schreit nach dir
Weil ich mich nicht lösen kann
Und vielleicht, vielleicht, vielleicht
Denkst du auch mal an mich
Gib uns Zeit, gib uns Zeit
Bevor meine Welt in dir zerbricht
Thought the large numbers of cattle egret were catching small frogs, but no. They were feasting on a glut of dragonflies, even squabbling over them in some cases. Martin Mere WWT
Flickr,
I already had a shot about my favourite poem by Johann Wolfgang von Geothe "Willkommen und Abschied"
(which means welcome and goodbye in englsih) and even my first exhibition had this title :-)
Here is the whole poem:
Es schlug mein Herz. Geschwind, zu Pferde!
Und fort, wild wie ein Held zur Schlacht.
Der Abend wiegte schon die Erde,
Und an den Bergen hing die Nacht.
Schon stund im Nebelkleid die Eiche
Wie ein getürmter Riese da,
Wo Finsternis aus dem Gesträuche
Mit hundert schwarzen Augen sah.
Der Mond von einem Wolkenhügel
Sah schläfrig aus dem Duft hervor,
Die Winde schwangen leise Flügel,
Umsausten schauerlich mein Ohr.
Die Nacht schuf tausend Ungeheuer,
Doch tausendfacher war mein Mut,
Mein Geist war ein verzehrend Feuer,
Mein ganzes Herz zerfloß in Glut.
Ich sah dich und die milde Freude
Floß aus dem süßen Blick auf mich.
Ganz war mein Herz an deiner Seite,
Und jeder Atemzug für dich.
Ein rosenfarbnes Frühlingswetter
Lag auf dem lieblichen Gesicht
Und Zärtlichkeit für mich, ihr Götter,
Ich hofft es, ich verdient es nicht.
Der Abschied, wie bedrängt, wie trübe!
Aus deinen Blicken sprach dein Herz.
In deinen Küssen welche Liebe,
O welche Wonne, welcher Schmerz!
Du gingst, ich stund und sah zur Erden
Und sah dir nach mit nassem Blick.
Und doch, welch Glück, geliebt zu werden,
Und lieben, Götter, welch ein Glück!
Meet me on facebook:
www.facebook.com/pages/SunnyMarry-Mariesol-Fumy-Photograp...
BNSF 8208 leads a Clay Boswell coal empty out of the yard and around the wye for the Hillsboro Sub as it departs Grand Forks, ND.
I had previously caught this train thundering west across the border in Minnesota:
www.flickr.com/photos/chris_paulhamus/40432108863/
This was typical power for northern plains coal trains in the mid-2000s (SD75s, Oakways, SD60Ms), but there was a period in 2007 that saw a glut of AC-power leading coal...a harbinger of things to come. Soon, the era of DC-powered coal trains would come to an end.
Es gibt - grob geschätzt - drei dominierende Arten des Aschenbechers.
Die runde Version verfügt in der Regel über einen Boden, einen Rand, der einmal außen herum führt und meistens ist diese Ausführung nach oben hin offen, so dass man kontrollieren kann ob sich immer ausreichend Asche darin befindet.
Eine revolutionäre Weiterentwickelung basiert auf erstgenanntem Modell. Einziger Unterschied: Diese Version ist nicht rund und hat keinen Rand, dafür auch keinen Boden und so wird er nie voll.
Am erfolgreichsten ist das Modell "AschEx 2000". Seine Funktionsweise ähnelt dem einer Murmelbahn. Die Zigarette wird im oben angebrachten Aschenbecher ausgedrückt und rutscht über ein ausgeklügeltes System in einen weiteren Aschenauffangbehälter am Fuße der Konstruktion.
Die vierte der drei Möglichkeiten Zigarettenstummel und deren Asche zu entsorgen, funktioniert wie folgt. Besser betuchte Raucher stellen eigens dafür abgerichtete Haushaltshilfen ein, um sich selbst nicht länger mit dem Problem "Asche" beschäftigen zu müssen. Diese Hilfskräfte fangen die Glut und die Asche der Zigarette mit der Hand auf und sammeln die Stummel vom Boden ein, um sie zu entsorgen. Personen in dieser Berufssparte nennt man Aschenputtel.
Die sonst am häufigsten verwendeten Materialien und Gegenstände zur Nutzung als Aschenbecher sind Glas, Lego, Benzinkanister und Fußboden. Auch Verwendung finden Materialien wie Silber, Porzellan, Marmor, Stein und Eisen bricht und Holz.
Ihr dürft natürlich gerne Teilen, kommentieren, konstruktiv kritisieren und Folgen.
==========
Please feel free to share, to commentate and to follow me.
Well I must admit - this might surprise a few people but here goes - - I've been doing toy photography for awhile now and posting on Flickr as "Clyde Roberts" but I'm tired of maintaining 2 accounts - - especially when the toy account is not PRO - - its giving me headaches - - so beeton_bear is now my nature channel as well as my TOY photography - - you may see a glut of toy photos for a bit as I tranfser stuff from 1 side to the other.
Here's the Blue Marvel out on a new crotch rocket by Kawasaki burning down the back alley in Split Croatia.
Blue Marvel - Marvel comics - Hasbro
Kawasaki cafe racer - recent purchase in Italy
Background - a photo I took in Split Croatia
1:12 Scale
Just hitting either a Sedge or Alderfly....I would have liked to have had the fly in the shot,but I probably missed the capture by a fraction of a second,never mind the flies are so small they wouldn't make much more of an image,still,happy with this take.
These Hobbies, have been actively hawking upon this amazing hatch of Spring flies;according to the river keeper,Steve;for the last fortnight.He told me there were 10 hunting over his river a week ago,I would have loved to have seen that.He has never had or seen so many Hobbies over his stretch at any one time,all due to the abundance of food.
If you look at the crop of the Hobby just below the base of the beak you can see it's bulging full of Sedge flies,Alderflies and Mayfly.
Steve also said, that in about a fortnight there should be also a glut of Dragonflies as the larval form has been prolific this Spring.Hopefully I will be able to get access to witness that
event,and maybe get some shots.
I feel really privileged to have been allowed to photograph these amazing falcons in such amazing countryside.
Best viewed large....thanks.
Repost from previous, for a "new and improved" image due to the magic of Lightroom: BN SD45 (6400, with a U33c behind) wait by the depot with westbound freight (#177's Extra?). This was during a layover while "firing" out of Alliance. I'm sure that my tripod was provided by a BN crew hauler rooftop. Train 177 was a run from Lincoln, Nebr., to Laurel, Mont., by way of Guernsey, Casper, and Wendover and Wind River canyons - what we just called "the south line" back then. The Orin Line was about a year in the future so this route was bereft of the glut of coal traffic that would come later.
"...er erriet, daß sie die Messe in San Marco besuchten, er eilte dorthin, und aus der Glut des Platzes in die goldene Dämmerung des Heiligtums eintretend, fand er den Entbehrten,..:"
Der Tod in Venedig, Thomas Mann
Eurasian Redwing / turdus iliacus. Hassop, Derbyshire. 17/01/24.
'REMEMBERING A WINTER OF PLENTY.'
After battling through winter 2024-25, with its endless grey and cheerless wet days, plus a dearth of berries and winter migrants, it's a real joy to remember the previous winter ...
Winter 2023-24 was a memorable 'Waxwing Winter'. I was able to connect with them in various parts of Derbyshire, plus have wonderful encounters with Fieldfares and Redwings as well. There were lots of cold, frosty days and plenty of gorgeous light to aid my photography sessions.
The Redwing shown above was taking full advantage of a glut of haws. It spent most of its time in this tree, either feeding or sleeping in the sun. Nice to see it having such an easy time of things!
BEST VIEWED LARGE.
Typisches, gemühtliches Lagerfeuer. Dieses Foto habe ich mit dem Equipment von meinem guten Freund Christoph geschossen. Schaut euch auf jeden Fall seine Flickr-Seite an: www.flickr.com/photos/juengi
The wrecked trawler, Dayspring, at it's famous resting place at the head of Loch Linnhe near Corpach. We've a drought up here: a drought of sunshine. And a glut of rain. The opposite of everyone else it seems. Sunlight and water are imperative to life. But which would you rather go without? I think we will keep the water.
And it was into the water I headed. It was quite deep, the bottom obscured by a dense bed of sunken sticks and branches. They were slippery and really uneven to walk on and I was very cautious wading out deeper, just in case a crocodile popped up between the seaweed and sticks.
There were dark shadows too and I cursed that I had never bought a polarising filter. Anyhow I tried a five shot handheld pano, in portrait format to try and capture the foreground. Am ordering polarising filter now.
Pirates - Emerson, Lake & Palmer
www.youtube.com/watch?v=RBIHU06ITwA
"Who'll make his mark?" the Captain cried
"To the Devil, drink a toast"
We'll glut the hold with cups of gold
And we'll feed the sea with ghosts
I see your hunger for a fortune
Could be better served beneath my flag
If you've the stomach for a broadside
Come aboard, my pretty boys
I will take you and make you
Everything you've ever dreamed
"Make fast the guns, tonight we sail
When the high tide floods the bay
Cut free the lines and square the yards
Get the black flag stowed away
The Turk, the Arab and the Spaniard
Will soon have pennies on their eyes
And any other laden fancy
We will take her by surprise
I will take you, make you
Everything you've ever dreamed"
Six days off the Cuban coast when a sail ahead, they spied
"A galleon of the treasure fleet," the mizzen lookout cried
"Closer to the wind, my boys," the mad-eyed Captain roared
"For every man that's alive tonight will be hauling gold aboard"
"Spare us," the galleon begged, but mercy's face had fled
Blood ran from the screaming souls the cutlass harvested
Driven to the quarter deck, the last survivor fell
"She's ours, my boys!" the Captain grinned
And no one left to tell
The Captain rose from a silk divan with a pistol in his fist
And shot the lock from an iron box, and a blood-red ruby kissed
"I give you jewelry of turquoise, a crucifix of solid gold
One hundred thousand silver pieces, it is just as I foretold
You, you see there before you
Everything you've ever dreamed"
Anchored in an indigo moonlit bay
Gold-eyed 'round fires the sea thieves lay
Morning, white shells and a pipe of clay
As the wind filled their footprints
They were far, far away
Our sails swell full as we brave all seas
On a westward wind to live as we please
With the wicked wild-eyed woman of Portobello town
Where we've been told that a purse of gold
Buys any man a crown
They will serve you and clothe you
Exchange your rags for the velvet coats of kings
"Who'll drink a toast with me?
I give you liberty
This town is ours tonight!"
"Landlord wine, make it the finest
Make it a cup for a sea dog's thirst
Two long years of bones and beaches
Fever and leaches did their worst
So fill the night with paradise
Bring me peach and peacock 'til I burst
But first, I want a soft touch in the right place
I wanna feel like a king tonight
Ten on the black to beat the Frenchman
Back you dogs, give them room to turn
Now open wide sweet Heaven's gate
Tonight were gonna see if Heaven burns
Ooh, see how she burns, oh, see burn
I want an angel on a gold chain
And I'll ride her to the stars
It's the last time for a long, long time
Come the daybreak, we embark
On the flood of the morning tide
Once more the ocean cried"
"This company will return one day
Though we feel your tears, it's the price we pay
For there's prizes to be taken and glory to be found
Cut free the chains, make fast your souls
We are El dorado-bound
I will take you for always, forever, together
Until Hell calls our names"
"Who'll drink a toast with me
To the Devil and the deep blue sea?
Gold drives a man to dream"
Mitt bidrag till veckans Fotosöndag med tema /My contribution to this week on Photosunday with theme /Fika
"Du tauchst in mein Leben
Und ich spür', wie es sticht
Wie all' meine Hoffnungen an den Worten zerbricht
Du tauchst in mein Leben
Schürst aufs Neue die Glut
Und meine älteste Narbe spuckt wieder Blut.
[...]
Und mein Stolz geht vor dir auf die Knie
Es tut wieder weh
[...]
Du Tauchst In Mein Leben.
Und Mein Leben Wird Kalt.
Und Deine Versprechen Werden Müde Und Alt.
Du Tauchst In Mein Leben.
Und Ich spür', Wie Es Sticht.
Denn Du Siehst Mich Nicht.
Oh, Du Siehst Mich Nicht.
[...]"
"You Appear In My Life.
And My Life Becomes Cold.
And All Your Promises Become Tired And Old.
You Appear In My Life.
And I Feel How It Hurts.
Because You Don’t See Me.
Oh, You Don’t See Me."
(english translation)
- Jennifer Rostock- Es tut wieder weh
LISTEN --> www.youtube.com/watch?v=JIrQwNgKoA8&feature=related
[Explored #123]
Actually this shot is quite old, as you can see on the right it´s from last May, but I found it these days here on my PC from this one shoot last year and decided to upload it anyway- I hope u like it :)
I guess the name is catchy but we certainly have a mega-glut of coffee shops or coffee houses all over South Korea. This is "downtown" for us: a one-block business district that seems to have one of everything: an internal medicine doctor, a dentist, a pharmacist, a Paris Baguette (which also serves coffee), a side-dish shop (kimchi, dried pollack), two barbers, a hair dresser, a tailor, a dry-cleaner, a real-estate agency, a bank, a smart phone shop, a restaurant-bar, two coffee shops, and four restaurants. Who could possibly ask for more?
Well, the one "fly in the soup", if you would excuse this rude euphemism, would be the poor restaurants which are also quite overpriced. But the doctor is cheap. It only costs US $1.80 to visit her!. Affordable health care is a big, big advantage here in South Korea and it includes dental as well! Imagine getting an implant for only US $300.
Olympus Trip 35 on Kodak Color Plus 200.
South Korea
Back in the Eighties, there was a glut of kit cars built in the spirit of the classic Morgan three-wheeler. They were hugely popular, partly for being hilarious to drive but also because they could be registered as tricycles and were therefore much cheaper to tax and easier to register than four-wheeled kits.
This Renault-based DKR 3-wheeler REL429R, in the style of a classic Morgan, seen during a rally at the Classic Motor Hub in the Cotswolds in Gloucestershire on 31st August 2024.
listen Frieden
Rainhard Fendrich
Was soll man sagen wenn man sieht
Wie in Flammen untergeht
Was seit tausend jahren stand
Was soll man sagen wenn man hört
Was man in einer Nacht zerstört
Und ein volk ist ohne land
Wird die Ohnmacht erst zur Wut
Liegt das Pulver nah der Glut
Gibt es nur noch einen Traum
Frieden, ist die Hoffnung die uns bleibt
Ist der Wille der uns treibt
Wenn die Welt in Trümmern liegt
Frieden, ist der Ruf nach Einigkeit
In einer Blut getränkten Zeit
In der nur die Hölle siegt
Was heilig ist das ist gerecht
Wenn man das hört wird einem schlecht
Und man kann nichts dagegen tun
Denn was sich in dein Leben frisst
Und dich kaum noch schlafen lässt
Sind die Mörder die nicht ruh'n
Frieden, ist die Menschheitsillusion
Seit millionen Jahren schon
Ist der Segen der uns fehlt
Frieden, ist das letzte Rettungsboot
In der grossen Elendsflut
Ist der Mut der aufrecht hält.
Wenn wir daran glauben,
Ganz fest daran glauben
Dann werden wir immer mehr
Wenn wir sie vereinen,
Diese tropfen auf steinen
Dann sind wir ein meer
Frieden, ist die Botschaft die noch trägt
Wenn der Greif die Taube schlägt
Ist das Heil nachdem man sucht.
Frieden, stiftet nicht das stärkste Heer
Herrscht er nicht zwischen dir und mir
Bleiben wir zum streit verflucht
Und haben's nicht einmal versucht
I'm afraid it's a glut of Goldie shots today!
Thank you all who view, comment or fave, it is greatly appreciated.
Powering up away from a meet and lunch break at Little Lake in fall 1981. 6730, 6715 and 6707 start 105 loads toward Escanaba. There were still a few segments of battered jointed rail in place on the ore line at this time and the crew is contending with one stretch of that right now. November 7, 1981. Another rescan, sorry about the glut of rescans but I been hard at getting a bunch done so I can file them back away.
ENG: The cold season is at the door and there is only a lot of heat with a fire bowl. And this is best done with good friends and dear people. You could also say to guest in the beautiful Mecklenburg Vorpommern.
GER: Die kalte Jahreszeit steht vor der Tür und da hilft nur viel Wärme mit einer Feuerschale. Und das geht am besten mit guten Freunden und lieben Menschen. Man könnte auch sagen, zu Gast im schönen Mecklenburg Vorpommern.