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It was at the inlet, where ocean water enters the bay. We have no idea what it is, but it seemed to be alive. The image isn't too sharp; I did my best with my long lens.
PreDawn 'just' over Nuns Pool, Wollongong Lighthouse point.
Sunrise shoot with folks from Focus Australia, this morning at Wollongongs lighthouse point, got there just before 5am headed down to the 'Nuns' pool - a lil tricky in the dark but worth the effort.
Pentax K1 w Irix 21/1.4
ISO250 f/11 -4.7ev
Single frame raw developed in DxO PhotoLab 6, colour graded in Colour Efex Pro 5, a mild tweak in Topaz Denoise and finished off back in PhotoLab.
Found this little caterpillar inside the house yesterday afternoon. Relocated it to a patio table on the deck and took some macro shots. I finally realized it was looking for something to eat, so I picked a leaf off a tree near the deck and maneuvered it under the caterpillar, who immediately began eating the leaf. I'm glad I was careful not to touch it, because I read later that these caterpillars have a venomous substance in the long black tufts that cause allergic reactions in some people.
This very large bumble bee had just come out from inside this Day lily after gathering the nectar to take back to its hive so the colon can grow and reproduce. But it is also covered in pollen. The next day lily this bee would land on to search for more nectar would finish the work and pollenate the flower and start the cycle over for the next years flowers and bees!
A simple transaction that benefits both the bees and the flowers.
Shot using a Nikon 105mm f2.5 AI lens.
It's all a matter of perspective - Mt Airy, Philadelphia, PA - USA (Sony a7 Mark II - Sigma 100-400mm F5.0-6.3 DG DN OS Contemporary)
As neuroses go, it's probably not among the most damaging that a poor tortured soul might have to endure. In fact, considering everything that ails humankind these days I probably shouldn't mention it at all. But here's the thing. I hate my name. Always have done since I was old enough to master all three syllables. And don't tell me it's a nice name. It doesn't matter whether you think it is or not, because as the person who has to live with it, it's on my birth certificate, my driving licence and my passports (both British and Irish) and I detest it with a passion. During the early years of my working life I'd give my name to somebody over the phone and then have to spell out every single letter. One builder whose accounts I was given to work on called me “Sebastian” instead. Which sounded quite ridiculous in a West Cornwall accent. He thought it was hilarious, and he was the customer so I had to grin politely and put up with it. Whenever I say my name it sounds as if I'm a very minor member of the aristocracy. An impoverished fourth son of the baron of a dried up salt marsh who stopped receiving invitations to an audience with the king in the early 1950’s. Nowadays, only people who've known me forever call me Dominic. Generally speaking that's my parents, although my sister often slips into it. She's also had three syllables dumped on her. Rebecca, but only Mum, who remains insistent on this nonsense, calls her that. Everyone else has always called her Becky. My brother is kinder and calls me Dom unless he's in a playful mood and wants to annoy me. As you’ll read later, he got away lightly.
I dropped the “inic” many years ago and anyone who has come into my orbit over the last twenty years simply knows me as Dom. My closest friends only know me as Dom, because that's what I told them my name was when I met them for the first time. “Dom” I can deal with, even though it's often misheard as John or Tom, or mistyped as Don. Once in Barcelona I told the waitress I was “Domingo.” It was the only way to avoid confusion. As for “Dominic,” hardly anyone could spell that correctly. There'd be a K on the end, or two many O's and not enough ‘I's. Or all of those things. One secretary where I worked in my twenties always called me Dominique. Spelt it that way on Christmas cards too. Even though I love France, I'm not French. In the same workplace, an IT consultant spent a few weeks with us and was introduced to me as Nic. It was only when he had to put his full name on a form that I realised we had the same first name. He obviously hated Dominic too, but had been rather more inventive than me at throwing the nomenclature pedants off the scent. Why hadn't I thought of Nic? That would have been much better. Although I suppose everyone would still have added a K on the end. Later on, a cleaner who was hovering on the brink of retirement became convinced my name was Duncan. “Alright Duncan?” she’d chirp squeakily as she came in to empty the bins at the end of each day. I’ve really no idea where she’d got Duncan from, and before long, it was too late to disabuse her. To her, I’d always be Duncan. My colleagues loved this. As for my surname, don't even go there. It's Haughton, not Houghton or Horton or any similar version of events. Hardly anyone gets that right first time. Almost everyone says it wrong too. Even people who've known me for years pronounce it wrongly. I've been on many adventures with Lee, and he still pronounces it Howton. But it's Horton. Spelt Haughton. With an A and only one O, and definitely no R's. Keeping up? Can you see why it drives me around the bend? Told you it was a pain to live with. I've been dealing with this for nearly sixty flipping years!
Three syllables for goodness sake. Nobody needs three syllables in a forename. It's one too many. When I was four and a half, my brother came along. I was not impressed at having to share my parents with anyone else, and to add insult to injury they called him David. Why couldn't I have been called David, like David was? I protested bitterly and begged our parents to call me David too, but they heartlessly ignored me. I was stuck with Dominic, no matter how much I detested those three syllables. And he can be abbreviated to Dave. Everyone hears and spells Dave correctly. Nobody says, “come again, was that Wade?” Or “pleased to meet you Gabe!” You couldn't possibly get it wrong.
“So why bring all of this up now?” is a question you might be asking. Well at the time of writing, and after a few days in Cork catching up with my family, I'm on the west coast of Ireland, on the Dingle Peninsula in Kerry to be exact. Kerry. That’s another name you can’t really get wrong. Staying in a cottage where the host greeted me as Dom. “A good place to write,” as my cousin Fiona pointed out. She's the only one of eight siblings with a triple syllable by the way. But really, Fiona is more like two and a bit as you can merge the vowels almost seamlessly. All eight of my Irish cousins, and my aunt and uncle, being among the people who've known me longest on this planet, call me Dominic, pretty much without exception. I've been Dominic for four days now. But the strange thing is, I don't mind it so much when they say it. Something about the easy stretching of the vowels and the gentle Cork lilt that makes me sound like the strange Cornish cousin that I am, rather than the landed gentry at the big house in Midleton where my Great Grandfather worked as head gardener over a hundred years ago. They all have that same twinkle about them that Grandad did too. But when you breathe in a landscape like this on a daily basis, it’s no wonder really. It’s a rare place this.
I'm here today and tomorrow, and then I'm back to Cork where I'll become Dominic again for a couple of days until I land back in Cornwall early next week. When I’m home, I’ll be Dom - so don’t get any ideas. Not unless you’re Irish that is. Especially if you’re from Cork. Then, just maybe, I might just let you get away with it without pulling a face that tells you what I really think about those three dreaded syllables.
It has been raining a lot the last few weeks.
So the meadows are too wet.
Fortunately it is not cold, but it is certainly not healthy weather,
for humans and animals.
Thanks for all the nice comments the last week much appreciated.
Caroline and all the farm animals
Illinois Terminal Class C electric locomotive 1579 at the St Louis terminal. Built in 1929 by Illinois Traction System at their Decatur, IL shop using trucks, traction motors and control equipment from retired passenger cars. Sister locomotive 1595 survives today at the Museum of Transport in St Louis. kc1533.org/webpages/MotivePower/Electric/1595ITclassC.html
B&W print in my collection, B Bock photo. Undated, but there is a 1939 painted date stenciled on the side of the loco frame, so presumably some time in the 1940's.
that Austin was born into our family!!!
He has an older brother who is 8 and now a baby sister who is 4 months....
He is such a sweet and talented boy that keeps his grandma on her toes at all times!!!
I love it!!!
Our family is blessed!!
It’s a few days shy of being two months since I broke my ankle. I had another follow-up appointment today and the doctor had good news. The bone is healed, I can ditch the crutches and put full weight on my ankle! I’m not out of the woods yet, but it feels good to walk around (as best I can). My ligaments still need some time and my right leg muscles have atrophied. Tomorrow I begin physical therapy and I’m ready to do what it takes to be back skiing as soon as possible!
*I forgot to do LensTagger on this image. Shot with the a7rIII and Noct-NIKKOR 58mm f/1.2 AI-s
Moss is growing on the trees and it is so nice to see the green and new life in the woods.
Don't use this image on websites, blogs or other media without explicit permission.
© All rights reserved
It has never been done :-)
Mark Twain
HBM!!
monarch butterfly, sarah p duke gardens, duke university, durham, north carolina
Helloooo Spookies! It's time for the May round of Kinky which opens 5-28-23! This month on the altar we are offering up an amazing pair of bomb heels with some amazing details and a full 32 piece color hud and 3 metal color change options! So come on down to Kinky and check them out! They are also rigged for Maitreya, Reborn, Legacy and Kupra! + Doing a giveaway on Facebook only!!
Please DEMO everything before purchasing! And also please take a moment to read the ADS to make sure your buying for the right bodies!
Kinky LM: maps.secondlife.com/secon.../Liberty%20City/23/124/30
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Getting to grips with these delicious soft velvet boots, they fit like gloves if that makes sense. (lol). Thanks to the lovely Miss Tanya Fox for making this movie possible. xxx.
This is a secret potion that makes you see the world differently & she's found it safest to use only on the weekends. ~ Story people
CN Geometry car being filled up at Mona Jct in Waterloo, IA I thought these were diesel powered cars, but the UN1203 number is for gasoline. Possible UN number was flipped to the wrong number.
~I see your red door, I want it painted black
No colors any more, I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
I see the line of cars and they're all painted black
With flowers and my love, both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly looked away
Like a newborn baby it just happens everyday
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door, I must have it painted black
Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts
It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black
No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not foresee this thing happening to you
If I look hard enough into the setting sun
My love will laugh with me I've seen your red door and I want it painted black
(I want to see your face painted black
Black as night, black as coal
See the sun blotted out from the sky)
I've seen your red door and I want it painted black
No colours any more, I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes~
-------------------
Ciara - Paint it Black (Cover)
It's just a sprinkler at a park but with the contrast and backlight, well, the fountains at the Bellagio in Las Vegas wouldn't have looked as good to me. (Cascade Locks Area DSC_8548.jpg)
It's a bit hard to find information on the different body styles Ford produced for the T. Pickup bodies weren't made until much later in the T's lifespan as far as I know, so consider this an independently made coach build.
I know a couple people have suggested I build a military platform T, and while that is on the docket, I'd love some other suggestions as well. I'm thinking of a possible TT fire engine, but I'm not very informed on them, so if anyone has some resources, I'd appreciate it if you'd send them my way.
Signs in pizzaria in Maplewood area of St. Louis, Missouri. Photos available for purchase at Wits End Photography. Follow my blog Traveling at Wits End for ways to create travel adventures everyday.