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Behind the greenhouse there is a rose growing that has been there over twenty years and now covers the whole of the back of the greenhouse and is taller than the greenhouse . At this time of the year it is covered in blooms , some buds , some blooms and some a bit past their best !!
I am not an avid gardener so I am not into deadheading , pruning , or any type of treatment to the plant other than making sure the lashing is in place to keep it all upright and it still throws out blooms right round to well into autumn !!
Stormy conditions this weekend at Bracelet Bay Nr. Swansea. Upon our arrival at 5am the rain was lashing the car and the winds were blowing. The skies were heavy with rain and squally showers peppered our location.
Our spirits were feeling pretty low, the drive took 2 and half hours followed by a further 3 hours sat in the car, with the rhythmic sound of pelting rain bouncing off the roof added to the gloom, would this be our first non adventure of the year?.
As dawn approached the conditions changed, the rain and wind eased, offering up a seascape of blues in all shades and intensities truly a blue hour. With the waves of high tide coinciding with sunrise, it was time to brave the elements and get beach side.
The Sunrise was muted, the cloud obscured the warming light it was a going to be a bust surely? - As we headed back to the car, a glimmer of golden light caught the waves, this built into an intense spotlight illuminating the seascape for a brief few moments, I grabbed the opportunity with both hands!.
This iconic ruin is set in superb scenery, with overhanging cliffs and extraordinary rock formations - and yet is so little known: there are no signs, and no path (to speak of), but so worth while. This and the other images were taken in lashing rainfall and a high wind, enhancing the atmosphere of the place
An Indian Summer day today with a temperature of 19 deg C as I was capturing this. By the time I left the tide was coming in fast and furiously, crashing and lashing against the sea wall and steps in front of County Hall
Gary fights, in the distance, to get back to the car. We hadn't planned to make it this far, our itinerary for the eight days already chockablock with travelling and places to see. But the world changed while we were away and empty hotels and an over abundance of snow in the eastern corner of the country encouraged us to go out west to see the iconic Kirkjufell mountain and black Budir church. But we had to shoe-horn the change of plan into the overall schedule, which meant driving 600 km on an awful day.
It should have been straightforward to incorporate the black church at Budir and see Kirkjufell on the same circuit out on the Snaefellsness peninsula but the mountain route linking the two was closed due to snow forcing us to go back and take a long diversion.
Visibility throughout the day was terrible. Lashing rain. Gale force winds. Significant wind chill. and when we got to the nearby village of Grundarfjörður the place looked so grim. We might have liked a warming coffee but the place was so grey and unwelcoming we pushed on to Kirkjufell. We feared we wouldn't see any of the famous conical mountain. Judging by the other hills and mountains we passed on our route we would be lucky if we could see anything above 100 feet.
So we arrived at the car park. There was no one there. A first? Not one tourist or even empty car. Engine running, we sat and surveyed what we could see through the condensation obscured windscreen and thrashing windscreen wipers as the car bounced up and down in the wind as if we were having wild sex in the back.
Gary was out first on the sheltered side. He was driver for the day and clearly thought of himself first (!). But out of the shelter of the Duster I saw him fighting into the gale as he headed towards the bridge over the river that produces the waterfalls of Kirkjufellfoss. It reminded me we must make a short video clip with my phone, me as Captain Titus Oates, of the Scott Antarctic expedition saying, "I am just going outside, I may be some time", before pushing the door open, and disappearing forever. (But the next ten minutes outside must have battered my senses so much I didn't remember to make the clip when I did return). After a struggle to push my door open against the gale force, I eventually got out just as I could faintly see Gary raise his camera for a first shot, about 100 yards away. With my Nikon in a rainproof cover I leant into the wind and headed where he had gone, scuttering on the ice. But part of the track and right over the full width of the bridge was covered in wet ice, quite impossible to grip on. It was like roller skating on an ice rink in a lashing storm. I had perhaps 10% control over where I was going, eyes wide looking for one of the few pebbles that were stuck in the ice, to try and get some grip on to stop the wind pushing me over the edge. Gary was coming back already, defeated by the conditions. I'm not sure we even exchanged words as we passed. Seriously, I thought, had anyone ever tried to get a decent shot here in such horrendous conditions?
I made it to a slightly 'safe' point above the water falls. As far as I could be bothered, or dared to go, and tried to take some shots. But the lens was soaked with rain in half a second. I mopped with a shammy leather (yeah) every few seconds trying to point the camera in the right direction whilst being buffeted by the wind, wiping, and wiping just trying to get a clean shot before the horizontal rain doused the lens again. I got several unusable water spattered shots of the waterfall blowing back over the top. It all meant that we wouldn't go down the ice to take up a more normal composition below the waterfalls....but what the hell? What fool comes all this way just to shoot that? A dumb mountain! I lasted just a couple of minutes there. Despite my extra insulation. We came, we saw, we...…..we went away! And drove all the way back over snowy mountains, three or four hours back to deserted and frozen Geysir.
I'll never go back again.
Hum dum dum ditty dum
Hum dum dum
Oh the wind is lashing lustily
And the trees are thrashing thrustily
And the leaves are rustling gustily
So it's rather safe to say
That it seems that it may turn out to be
Feels that it will undoubtedly
It looks like a rather blustery day, today
It seems that it may turn out to be
Feels that it will undoubtedly
Looks like a rather blustery day, today
~Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day
I might be 61 but visiting Madeira I felt distinctly youthful compared to the average tourist there. Within a couple of days I was bursting to escape and determined to explore the island. But we woke to really stormy conditions on Wednesday with the sea lashing the coast below our hotel and palm trees bent over and swaying in the driving rain and strong gusts of wind. However by 10 am the sky was brighter and I headed to the hotel resident guide who advised me quite firmly there would be no organised trips to the mountains that day due to the weather. I decided I would just have to go myself.
I have always enjoyed trying to interpret landscapes from maps and decided to investigate the walks around the highest mountains. My eyes were drawn to the one between Pico do Arieiro (5965 ft /1818m) and Pico Ruivo (6106 ft / 1862m) which to my eyes appeared to be a modest walk along a ridge between the two peaks approximately 4 miles apart.
Hmmm. There was no one else there, probably because they took one look outside at dawn and decided to get back under the duvet. My heart sank when I saw a sign at the start of the trail showing this was no straightforward walk along a ridge but one that included some 3000 ft/1000 m of up and down along the way.
At times it was windless. And moments later gale force. Sunny one minute, and then I was surrounded by swirling cloud. But a rainbow kept appearing before me, leading me on.
I only made it about half way before I felt it got too windy and rain was threatening. I turned back, making it back just in time before the rain came properly. But the landscape was amazing, if a little daunting on my own. I had only passed one German couple, and I heard from them a couple of days later by email to say they were caught out and also turned back.
We did along walk along the beach promenade in Worthing and all the time just keeping an eye on the sky as the clouds floated in then the clouds floated across the sun and gave me some amazing rays as we walked around Worthing pier and back to our starting point at West Worthing so a few more to show. I did bracket my shots here with two images expecting to do some blending with one shot two stops under and one shot one stop under but in the end I found I could get all I needed from the one stop under exposure.
Many thanks for all your kind thoughts on our dog Lowena, as I type this at 1.53 pm we are waiting to hear when she comes out of general anaesthetic and when we can go and get her, i`ll up date later.
Well storm Barra is beginning to have an effect, when we were on the beach this morning the clouds were building up in the West and now the wind has picked up and the rain is lashing the window. Sounds like we may miss the worst of it as it will go through the Midlands but we can still expect gale force winds I believe.
Bow Fiddle Rock is one of the Moray Coast’s most outstanding natural features. A superb natural arch that has taken on an iconic shape, turning a small island into one of the most photographed spots in Moray.
Resembling a bow poised above a fiddle, the rock formation appears to be two separate parts, and with the sea lashing against the rocks, eddying in and out of the small bay, you could almost hear the tunes being played.
Giant storm roars in the Cape
One of the worst storms in seven years hit the city of Cape Town on the weekend of 30 August 2008 Wwith lashing gale force winds, abnormally high seas, sheets of rain, and accompanied by dangerous storm surge which hit the Atlantic coast at mid-afternoon, causing flooding on the 31st August.
Heavy logs, lost off a cargo ship earlier this month and not yet recovered, posed an additional risk to people and property along the Atlantic seaboard.
A severe storm warning, issued by the South African Weather Service, prompted authorities to put out safety warnings across the province.
I finished my oatmeal before him so I grabbed the camera for some more breakfast photos in hopes of getting a 366 photo. This was the first pic and best of the three. #64 of my 366 project.
“6.-Branches. Branches crossing the air. Branches cutting the air. Cutting across the interminable skin of sky. Lashing the sky. Of us all you have is shreds of sky, fervor. We are shreds. Live parts of a tree. Goldwork applied painfully onto the air, the skin of air is what you have. The blue flesh of sky. Skin that you cannot trample. We want you to want to hug us. We like that you try to hold onto the sky. We like that your hands knock against the branches. We like that you direct the branches in the air. We all want you to cut us. A gust of birds. We want you to cover our mouths. The strands of your veins calmly against the skin of sky. Hold us from within the pulse, fervor.”
© 2011, Dolores Dorantes
From: Estilo
Publisher: ManoSanta Editores, Guadalajara, 2011
© Translation: 2012, Jen Hofer
First published on Poetry International, 2012
Chesil Stones....
11th August 2011
18 miles and billions of pebbles...
Chesil Beach is located on the South coast of England in the county of Dorset. It is a pebble beach 18 miles long and stretches north-west from Portland to West Bay. For much of its length it is separated from the mainland by an area of saline water called the Fleet Lagoon.
Today was horrible. The wind was howling, the clouds flying across Portland Harbour and I felt glum wondering what on earth I would take a picture of for my day 10 shot.
Waves maybe...so I headed to Chesil Cove on the off chance that the waves were lashing the beach but it was all a little blown out...but the pebbles...oh the pebbles....
I have sat on these pebbles so many times at different locations along Chesil Beach. There are signs asking that the pebbles remain on the beach and not in peoples pockets (it is an area of natural outstanding beauty) and there they remain for others enjoyment.
In the summer they retain the warmth of the day and at sunset you can sit on the beach and be kept warm as they release their energy...
In winter when the storms whip the beach, they crash along the shore creating a cacophony of sound, almost defeaning....
Chesil Stones...
"Kekekekekek." Lashing tail. I don't think this is Agate's number one favorite occupation - that is probably related to food - but she's definitely taken up birdwatching. Runs in the family. Happy Caturday 15 February 2025, "Favourite" ("photos of our cats’ favourite things, including favourite occupation, favourite food & favourite toy" - Pat).
People live so close to the sea, we don't realise the dangers they face with storms and high waves lashing in and very often flooding their houses. I really didn't want my camera and lens to get ruined by the salt water.
With the rain lashing down outside, indoor plants offered a more attractive proposition. Best viewed large.
Thanks for looking.
Album - Flora
thunder and lightening storm summer 09 an old photo but i like this one very much . it was such a beautiful storm this night i was on the roof for hours taking shots of the lightening . it is hard to do with a point and shoot camera so even though i took hundreds and hundreds of shots i only got a few that were any good as i always clicked to early or too late but it doesnt matter as it was a magical night and i enjoyed it so much . i love to photo the sky no matter what the weather is like and i sure got a good soaking this night. so lesson learned bring a rain coat if you want to photo the storm but this happen so quickly i just ran with my camera i didnt know how long it would last and i sure didnt want to miss it for the sake of a coat haha
have a great week everone
{ EXPLORED # 97 26/04/2011 }
Explored #19 July 6th Thanks everyone
Taken for the Scavenger Hunt - Rain
No shortage of rain this summer and tonight it's lashing down again with severe flood warnings for large areas of the country. Luckily we will escape it this time.
A crumbling tholtan ruin and lone tree situated high up in magnificent Glen Dhoo exposed to the winter onslaught with a mix of snow and rain lashing down over the valley. The conditions when shooting this were absolutely appalling and it was one of those rare moments where I genuinely feared for my camera equipment. The air temperature must have been close to zero but most of the precipitation was falling as rain, very heavy rain at that! I was totally soaked down to the skin by the time I was finished and my camera geared for all intents and purposes, may as well have had a bath such was the soaking that was experienced.
I shoot with a mirrorless Nikon Z7 camera which is a 7-year-old body now but still going strong. Conditions like this goes to show the value of proper professional level weather sealing on camera gear, especially for avid landscape photographers.
This photo was an impromptu unplanned image that I captured before declaring defeat and hiking back out of the valley. It turned out to be my favourite image of the day because it perfectly captured the conditions and the desolate isolated atmosphere of this hidden valley. A bone chilling but wonderful photography experience!
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It's as comforting as a warm bath,
Enjoyed even when wracked with pain,
As welcome as an old friend's smile,
On thundery days of lashing rain.
- Steward Stafford
I had some new instruments come in which needed some photographs. The relentless rain lashing at my window suggested that might have to suffice as my picture of the day...
GAR INTELLIGENCE DOSSIER
CLASSIFIED - EYES ONLY
Grand Army of the Republic – 253rd Elite Legion
Secure Archive Reference: GAMOR-OP-BRAVO-CC1749-PT018
MISSION LOG ENTRY:
DESIGNATION: Protector-018 "Galaar"
UNIT: Vornskr Squad, First Regiment "Bralor's First"
Operation Codename: Couriers of Cruelty
LOCATION: UNKNOWN
DATE OF ENTRY: [REDACTED]
SECURITY CLEARENCE: LEVEL 4 – RESTRICTED ACCESS
STATUS: LEGION OBJECTIVE ALPHA: In Progress
--------
[FIELD LOG]
//..... REQUESTING ACCESS
//....AUTHORIZATION [REDACTED]
//.....ACCESS GRANTED
.
.
//...BEGIN PLAYBACK
"We had barely managed to board the Zygerrian ship before it fled Gamor. The raid had been successful, we had shut down the slavers' operation on the planet, capturing dozens of Zygerrians, their ships, and the contraband they’d been moving. We’d purposely allowed several Zygerrian vessels to escape, hoping to tail them back to their main base of operations. Command had deemed it necessary to determine whether they were being backed by the Zygerrian government, or possibly even the CIS.
Despite having infiltration teams on standby, Command had ordered me to halt my interrogation of the prisoners my squad had secured and to board a Zygerrian ship they’d somehow overlooked before it could lift off. With no time to rally the rest of my squad, I grabbed Spade and Rook, and the three of us made a run for it. The ship was already lifting off when we arrived, but using grappling hooks, we managed to latch on and pull ourselves aboard. We took down the deckhand before he could seal the cargo hold and sound the alarm.
The ship was a modified YV-865 Aurore-class freighter, and we found ourselves in a dimly lit cargo bay packed with cages holding all kinds of exotic creatures. They’d been agitated by the ship’s sudden departure, lashing out at the bars. Fortunately, the cages held, at least for the moment.
The Zygerrian crew must’ve heard the shot that dropped the deckhand, because they were waiting for us. A slaver clad in a massive suit of furs and armor, emerged from the shadows, swinging a heavy electrostaff. Before I could react, he’d slammed it into my helmet, tearing it off and sending me crashing to the deck. I was stunned, and with my vision blurred, I watched as Spade and Rook unloaded a steady stream of blue blaster bolts into the brute.
I reached for my blasters, only to feel one slip through the bars of a cage built into the deck. Cursing, I raised my remaining DC-17 and opened fire on the unarmored Zygerrians closing in from behind the portside cages.
Somewhere in the chaos, we’d ended up switching positions with the crew, our backs were now to the blast door that lead deeper into the ship, and theirs to the hold. I could hear Rook behind me, frantically working to slice the door, while Spade and I laid down suppressive fire to keep the slavers pinned.
Then I felt a hand on my shoulder, Rook pulled me through the now-open blast door. As I stumbled backward, I heard Spade bark out a laugh before slamming his fist into a control panel on the wall of the hold.
In an instant, every cage dropped, their magnetic locks disengaged. The creatures, already agitated, went feral. They burst out and descended on the remaining Zygerrians. A Nexu took down the armored slaver in seconds; I heard his scream as its jaws clamped around his head. A moment later, the blast doors slammed shut, sealing the crew inside with the beasts.
From there, we’d pushed on to the bridge. It was deserted, the ship on autopilot.
We had taken the vessel."
///...END PLAYBACK
///...LOG COMPLETE
------------------
Met de tentoonstelling ‘Stephan Vanfleteren. Transcripts of a Sea’ in het MSK Gent toont de internationaal gerenommeerde fotograaf voor het eerst de betovering die hem de afgelopen vijf jaar naar en zelfs in zee heeft gedreven. Zijn nooit eerder getoonde foto’s nodigen de bezoeker uit om eeuwenoude marine-kunst, van de zeventiende tot de eenentwintigste eeuw, op een nieuwe manier te ontdekken.
De zee & Stephan Vanfleteren
Vanfleteren analyseert met gevaarlijke obsessie en vloeibaar verlangen de zee in al haar gestalten en lichtomstandigheden. Hij speurt naar plaatsen waar golven en deiningen zich als onvoorspelbare wonderen vertonen. Stormachtig, spiegelglad, mistig, onweerachtig, verraderlijk rustig water of een op hol geslagen wastrommel: de fotograaf aanschouwt het niet vanaf het strand maar kiest voor een natte confrontatie door letterlijk in de zee te gaan.
Marine-kunst vanaf de 17e eeuw
In de tentoonstelling gaat Vanfleteren de dialoog aan met beeldende kunstenaars die net als hij geobsedeerd zijn door de zee. Wat hem verbindt met kunstenaars als Gustave Courbet, Thierry De Cordier, James Ensor, Victor Hugo, Léon Spilliaert, August Strindberg, Marlene Dumas en Rinus Van de Velde is hun benadering van het thema. Ze tonen geen zuivere observatie, maar slagen er na jaren in om ‘hun’ persoonlijke zee in beeld te brengen. Als fotograaf navigeert Vanfleteren mee, langs kunstwerken uit vijf eeuwen marine-kunst.
Bron: www.mskgent.be/tentoonstellingen/stephan-vanfleteren
STORM
Een storm in volle woede – wild, genadeloos, brullend als het einde der tijden – is zo'n viscerale, allesverslindende kracht dat zelfs de diepste bitterheid in het hart wordt weggevaagd en vervangen door een onbeschaamde, bijna heilige devotie. De wetenschap dat je bestaan niets betekent op dit pad is vreemd bevrijdend. In dat kolkende theater krimpt de menselijke vorm tot een stipje – zielig, gewichtloos, vergeten. Nergens is het contrast scherper dan tussen het geselende geweld van de storm en het stille, stille oppervlak van mijn foto's. Wat ik in de chaos niet kon bevatten, onthulde zich pas later, gefluisterd in het stille ontvouwen van de beelden. Het resultaat voelde pas echt toen het mijn weifelende herinneringen en de angsten die ik had doorstaan, weerspiegelde.
Op zee is er altijd meer buiten het kader dan erin. Een foto is slechts een glimp van het oneindige, een vernauwde blik, een afgescheiden ervaring. Zelfs het breedste panorama is gedoemd te mislukken. Thierry De Cordier noemt zijn zeegezichten 'tentatives' – pogingen. Ook hij beseft dat het een nobele maar zinloze daad is: de gelaagde, ademende weidsheid van de oceaan vastleggen binnen de stilte van twee dimensies.
Begeleidende tekst van Stephan Vanfleteren in de verschillende -thematische- ruimtes van de tentoonstelling.
----------------
With the exhibition "Stephan Vanfleteren. Transcripts of a Sea" at MSK Ghent, the internationally renowned photographer reveals for the first time the enchantment that has driven him to and even into the sea for the past five years. His never-before-seen photographs invite visitors to discover centuries-old marine art, from the seventeenth to the twenty-first century, in a new way.
The Sea & Stephan Vanfleteren
With a dangerous obsession and a fluid desire, Vanfleteren analyzes the sea in all its forms and light conditions. He searches for places where waves and swells reveal themselves as unpredictable wonders. Stormy, mirror-smooth, misty, thundery, treacherously calm waters, or a runaway laundry drum: the photographer doesn't observe it from the beach but opts for a wet confrontation by literally entering the sea.
Marine Art from the 17th Century
In the exhibition, Vanfleteren engages in dialogue with visual artists who, like him, are obsessed with the sea. What connects him with artists like Gustave Courbet, Thierry De Cordier, James Ensor, Victor Hugo, Léon Spilliaert, August Strindberg, Marlene Dumas, and Rinus Van de Velde is their approach to the theme. They don't offer pure observation, but succeed, after years, in capturing "their" personal sea. As a photographer, Vanfleteren navigates along, past artworks from five centuries of marine art.
Source: www.mskgent.be/en/exhibitions/stephan-vanfleteren
STORM
A storm in full fury – wild, merciless, roaring like the end of time – is such a visceral, all-consuming force that even the deepest bitterness in the heart is swept away, replaced by an unashamed, almost holy devotion. The knowledge that your existence means nothing in this path is strangely liberating. In that churning theatre, the human form shrinks to a speck – pitiful, weightless, forgotten. Nowhere is the contrast sharper than between the storm’s lashing violence and the still, silent surface of my photographs. What I could not comprehend in the chaos revealed itself only later, whispered in the quiet unfolding of the images. The result felt true only when it echoed my wavering memories and the fears I had weathered.
At sea, there is always more beyond the frame than within it. A photograph is merely a sliver of the infinite, a narrowed gaze, a severed experience. Even the widest panorama is destined to fail. Thierry De Cordier calls his seascapes ‘tentatives’ – attempts. He too understands that it is a noble but futile act: to capture the ocean’s layered, breathing vastness within the stillness of two dimensions.
Accompanying text by Stephan Vanfleteren in the different -themed- rooms of the exhibition.
© 2016 Thousand Word Images by Dustin Abbott
Today a cold wind is lashing my yard and driving the beautiful bursts of color from the trees, but a week ago I was driving into peak color and surrounded by beauty. I was in a rush, trying to get somewhere, but you can't call yourself a photographer and not stop to take this picture! You can see other images from the lens here: bit.ly/2dKJQYC | or watch my unboxing/design video here: bit.ly/2efQAB0
Technical Information: Canon EOS 5D Mark IV + Canon EF 16-35mm f/2.8L III, Processed in Adobe Lightroom CC, Photoshop CC, and Alien Skin Exposure X2 (use code "dustinabbott" to get 10% off)
Want to know more about me or make contact? Take a look at my website and find a lot of ways to connect
La Luce Sferzante , Accecante Del Tramonto Sotto Un Cielo Di Nuvole --- Pentax K5+Pentax AKsmc 70mm/4 ---
Hovis came to the sanctuary when his owners moved to Wales. The horse he was living with kept picking on him, and the situation had been reported to the authorities a few times. Whilst they were being transported to Wales the horse attacked Hovis, and on arrival at their destination the people taking the animals on refused to accept Hovis. Poor Hovis was then forced to travel back to Essex and the transporters were left with a donkey and nowhere to take him. He was offered a home at the sanctuary, and loves his life with his donkey friends
Wesley was found with Spencer in the winter of 2011 at only 4/5 months old and in dire condition in Norfolk. They were very thin, sickly and malnourished, they had been standing up to their stomachs in thick mud. Their only food was whole carrots which they were too young to eat. Local people had seen the owner lashing them with a rope and reported the little donkeys plight.
Once they were fit and well and old enough, they were allowed to join the donkey herd. These little donkeys are very happy now, they do not have a care in the world.
With the summer rain lashing down and the wind trying to turn my umbrella inside out, I'm actually quite proud of this one handed shot!........
One of DB's ex-Frenchie repaints, 66032, powers up through the maelstrom as it nears Barkby Thorpe in charge of 6V92, the 10.34 steel carriers from Corby B.S.C. to Margam.
and it doesn't rain like it should, no it's coming down in barrels and the storm is lashing out, the Cats have given up playing or lying in the garden, Bob shows some distress and running under the house
www.stuff.co.nz/taranaki-daily-news/news/85048231/unpredi...
Ruddy Turnstone / arenaria interpres. Northumberland. 23/05/25.
'WITH FOOD IN MIND ... '
Such an intrepid little wader, completely unfased by lashing waves and swirling seaweed, the Ruddy Turnstone worked its way along the waterline. This bird, sporting almost full breeding plumage, was part of a small flock that fed actively in a rocky Northumbrian bay.
BEST VIEWED LARGE.
The weather was so wild on this day that the captain initially announced that the currents and the swell were too rough for us to land; but after a while, the seas calmed a bit and the Expedition Team Leader announced that we would be landing at Walker Bay on South Shetland Islands.
Rereading my journal for that day, I recall that the wind and snow was lashing us in the face as we made our way on the Zodiacs from the ship to the shore. It was an easy landing in soft sand, and I was soon walking along the beach in a snowstorm with snow blowing sideways into my face. I had to wipe my eyeglasses and camera lens after every shot, but it was well worth it because we had fabulous animal sightings that day, and I took hundreds of pictures:
- Gentoo penguins
- Elephant Seals
- Weddell Seal
- Fur Seals
- Giant Petrel
- Animal Skeletons
- Seaweed & Other Ocean Detritus on the Beach
Walking along my old stomping ground today in the lashing rain I came across a bright neon sign advertising a new bar on Capel Street; Melody Bar.
It's a new Chinese run bar and restaurant on the street that's fast maturing into one of the most bizarre streets in the city, with an interesting mix of sex shops / not yet illegal drug shops, pawn brokers, furniture places, fireplace places, pubs, restaurants, hardware stores, cafes, banks, fashion houses, offices, restaurants, apartments, gay resource centers, barbers, antique brokers, soup dragons, bagel merchants...the list goes on, and it's only about 600 meters long.
Anyways, I needed a beer. Owen, (his Chinese name was unpronounceable) the manager, gave me the hard sell; showed me all around the place....the sign says they do "probably the best Chinese food in town". I didn't have any, but they look as if they're giving it a good shot. There's loads of private booths downstairs for eating and karaoke, should you be into either. I liked the place. The Guinness was good and the digital jukebox free. Awful quiet though...
Part of the Boozin' set. See the Slideshow
Or check out the Bar Guide
With an assorted entourage in tow and the rain lashing down, US Air Force 9thRW Lockheed U-2S 'Dragon Lady' 80-1069/BB taxies down Fairford's runway to park in the static line-up during RIAT 2023
Here she's sans her Dorsal Span Pod and with a standard nose cone
Normally she'd fly festooned with an assortment of sensors - using a replacement nose, on those wing-mounted pods, in fuselage equipment bays and the dorsal mounted Senior Span or Senior Spur Pod
Here, the outriggers are attached which when the U-2 becomes airborne - they fall away to be collected and re-used after landing
The white 'muscle' car is the Dodge Chase car - used by another U-2 pilot to talk the flying one down through the last few critical feet before landing
Here's one I took recently, returning from Ops:
www.flickr.com/photos/29288836@N00/52953709346/in/photoli...
276A7615
Lough Leane, Killarny, Ireland.
Best view on Black (Please press 'L')
This stunning scenery changes by the second - Constantly.
It had been 'absolutely lashing down' all day long. Only a short time before taking this shot, the storm had started to clear....Just before Sun Set :)
Thanks for your visit, faves and comments - Have a great day all...
Easter-day was cold, cloudy, and windy, after a night-long storm. The howling wind was lashing the sea into a white coffee fury. And the poles were standing up like sentinels watching the open sea - never shrinking from their heavy duty.
I have experimented a bit with luminosity masks here, discovering a wider range of tones than expected :-)