View allAll Photos Tagged leapfrog
07.24.07.
A million photos later, my neighbors think I'm crazy.
Ahhh, so many countless bad outtakes...
Don't worry folks. I wiped down the top of the fire hydrant with Chlorox Wipes. Ha
Morris catches bird to play, caught some photos, took it away & released.
To View photostory & soundtrack of this encounter, click on link below:
Ocean Park, Washington.
The climax species here, Sitka spruce, has leapfrogged two entire pine forests and is now colonizing the landward side of the last foredune before the beach.
I was able to leapfrog H19 one final time, this time choosing the west switch for Homer siding. With 470 out of the way, the engineer throttles up as he pulls out of the siding and swings around the corner toward Winona, MN. The train would spend the next hour switching in town so we took the opportunity to grab a late lunch before hitting the road back home to Kasson.
Pashley Manor Gardens, on the border of Sussex and Kent, to see Romantic English landscaping and artistic planting framed by fine old trees, fountains and ponds, with the unusual Tudor/Georgian manor house, which is a private family home, creating a memorable backdrop to the beautiful and dynamic gardens.
my friend Art (Leapfrog) is a wise man... and he has encouraged me to slow down and take a break for my health sake.... he may be right... but I get so much encouragement and education from sharing photos here that it is a difficult thing to do...
Art also gave me the link to a wonderfully inspiring video that I hope you can listen to and watch... where people all over the world each play a part in a concert of one song, and all the parts of the puzzle come together to create inspiration and emotion...
Flickr helps me to reach out beyond this everyday life, this little bit of the world I live in and get a glimpse of how large (and how small) this old world really is. OUr photos help us share beyond boundaries and passports, beyond languages and cultures... we can, through our photos, reach out and take the hands of others far away, help share their cares and love their land and people...
So, if I do take some break time, you know I will be back, and I will be thinking of all of you in your various countries...as we each live our lives we can stand by one another in a far greater sense of the word...
here is the video link
Challenge 195 ~ Background
Created for : Challenge 195 Background
Magnificent Manipulated Masterpieces
Leapfrogging ahead to Wahsatch, we noticed the train slow in speed as they hit the center siding. As they approached the private crossing, the engineer did his best Saskatchewan Coal Roller impression by sending the locomotives straight to Notch 8, shooting a plume of carbon out of the exhaust. It was evident the engineer did this on purpose for us, as he backed off the throttle shortly afterwards while noticeably laughing.
Train: UEPJU1-11 (Unit Ethanol-Sioux City, IA, to Port Stockton, CA)
Consist:
CN 8929 (SD70M-2)
CN 8017 (SD70M-2)
CN 5772 (SD75I)
UP 8984 (SD70AH)
Press 'L' to view on black for increased contrast.
Sky Harbor International Airport 2012 - 2012.12.21
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This photo came up on my FB memories today. A houseful of memories have been queued up recently while leapfrogging between reading R.E. Burrillo's book "Behind the Bears Ears" and listening to "House of Rain" by Craig Childs when driving to town .
My own forays, mostly solo, into Bears Ears and surrounding backcountry, have taught me more about myself than I ever really wanted to know. Though I left the sherds and other finds in the canyons and on the mesas, I still carry with me a toolkit of personal ethics I still carry around.
My first trip into Grand Gulch was with a group out of Boulder, Utah who provided guided adventures supported with llamas and who I traded my accounting services for. The trip's guides were knowledgeable and resourceful, but none of us had the foresight for the changed world in which we emerged five days after 9-11.
During that first trip we visited a site that piqued my interest and after talking with friends and studying maps, I decided to take a solo venture into the canyon from a more direct route. I lost myself in the plethora of sites enroute and found myself literally lost when I attempted to find the rock art site I had was searching for. I could not orient myself with the hand drawn map I carried nor with a couple who stopped to see if I could help them with find a specific site on their map. What I did know was that I was on the main Grand Gulch trail and that if I headed north I would eventually arrive at the Kane Gulch ranger station. I knew I was within a mile or so of where I needed to scramble back up to the top, but nothing looked familiar and climbing up steep ledges then trying to find my way once on top through the pinyon/juniper forest would get me stranded and/or lost. I decided to hike up Grand Gulch to the ranger station. My hike out was one long contemplation about my stubborness and fierce independence as I nodded to groups on their way down canyon. Not once, did I reveal my predicament to anyone. There was no ranger or anyone else around when I arrived so I decided to walk south along the paved road, then on the signless dirt road I hoped would take me out to my truck. I did not try and thumb a ride - all the passersby looked like rapists or were driving vehicles that would not make it out to where I had parked. It was nearly midnight when I unlocked the truck after hiking for 35 miles. As I headed home to Moab, I realized I wasn't the Backwoods Babe I thought myself to be. What kept me going was the thought of my sons and grandchildren having to search for my remains, especially on Mother's Day.
I decided to try the Boulder group again with a smaller party. We began the trip on a beautiful bluebird day with the week's forecast for more of the same. We had a brief spit of rain at dinner that turned to starry sky at bedtime. The next morning, we had a brief shower at breakfast with subsequent clearing. We headed off with lunch in our packs and excitement in our steps. Not too far into our wanderings, we skedaddled up a sand hill to take cover next to a small granary from a downpour and ate our lunch. When the clouds cleared once again, we set climbed down the hill and found the wash running. One of the guides waded across to get a better look at our options, but by the time he tried to cross back, the water was up above his knees and it started to rain again. By the time we decided to high-tail it back up to the granary, telephone size cottonwoods were making their way down the wash. We ended up staying out all night cuddling up together, trying to find some semblance of comfort between rocks and cacti. I was a bit more prepared this time with fleece jacket and leggings, socks, and a black plastic gargage back that served as a rain coat. I had also packed extra nuts and snacks that become our dinner. We listened to the gun shot reports of large trees taking out smaller trees and watched the wind turn waterfalls into pinwheels. In the morning, we crept down to the receding water and met the guide across the wash who had passed the night in a small cave. On our way back to camp, we encountered pockets of quicksand and all manner of debris in treetops. Miraculously, our camp survived, barely. We were situated on a triangle of sand at the confluence of a side canyon and the main Grand Gulch trail. The floods had carved off the edges of that slice, but not grabbed our tents and gear. The hearbreak was the news from the guide who managed the llamas that the rushing water had taken down the trees, as well as the llamas, that two of the animals were tied to. After eating a huge lunch, we packed up the remaining llamas and headed them toward the rim with the guide. One llama got stuck in the mud and it took all five of us to dig (one to a hoof) and pull (the guide) him out. While we waited for the guide to bring back two of the llamas (who were not in the least bit happy) for the remaining gear, we read chapters out of Childs' "The Secret Knowledge of Water". We had a wake for the llamas that evening near our camp among the polka dots of potholes on the rim of the canyon. I wrote a poem for them, but I haven't kept track of it. A few days after returning home, I learned that the San Juan river rose from its lazy 800 cfs to 23,000 cfs from that storm.
I have had many other adventures in the Bears Ears since those seminal experiences, but I don't venture into the back country much anymore. I am by nature a hermit and find the increasing visitors, particularly those with noisy and stinky transportation choices, diminish my experience. I had a dream the night before I met up with the first llama trip where I awoke with a sense that there was an old woman standing next to me who whispered that I could not enter That House. As I grow into that old woman - from mother to grandmother to great-grandmother - and reflect again on that middle-of-the-night whisper, I realize that those rooms perched high along a cliff face are not where I will find meaning or a life-way. It is in the daily explorations of my own heart and mind and expressions thereof that allow me entrance into That House.
I hope my passage through this landscape has and does not contribute to the degradation of its extraordinary geographical and cultural importance beyond my own. I am eternally grateful for and support those who are tirelessly working to keep the Bears Ears and other such places available to learn the way into the heart and House of human.
Creator: Unidentified.
Location: Queensland.
Description: Two boys in a field playing leapfrog ( leap frog), ca. 1910-1920.
View the original image at the State Library of Queensland: hdl.handle.net/10462/deriv/125494.
Information about State Library of Queensland’s collection: www.slq.qld.gov.au/research-collections.
You are free to use this image without permission. Please attribute State Library of Queensland.
Looking like it is about to jump over the QF jumbo, Etihad Airways Airbus 380-861 A6-APC pulls off the runway at SYD with EY451 SYD-AUH with Qantas B747-438(ER) taxiing in with QF4 HNL->SYD
Well that's one expression for it .
A pair of Avocets doing what comes naturally at Cley Marshes, Norfolk Wildlife Trust.
Chrysomelidae at Haka Game Park, Harare. They look similar to the widespread Monolepta bioculata but much more brightly coloured and not quite the same.
Thanks to Leapfrog for this link:
Location: Queensland, Australia,
Date: 1910-1920
View this image at the State Library of Queensland: hdl.handle.net/10462/deriv/125494
Information about State Library of Queensland’s collection: pictureqld.slq.qld.gov.au/
Attempting to leapfrog 70803 from Wormit was only partially successful, the 70s seem to be more fleet of foot than the 60s and I had barely arrived when the train appeared. Only managed a quick snap with the phone but a shot probably worth repeating at a later date.
Colas 70803 starts the climb up to Lochmuir with 6B32 1652 Craiginches Aberdeen to Oxwellmains Lafarge cement empties. On the left can be seen both East and West Lomond.
31st August 2018
Shot for Sohail Bin Mohammad's assignment "Find the superhero in the street," per the Flickr group Street & Repeat.
www.flickr.com/photos/magnum_flowers/40508578005/in/pool-...
A man leapfrogs a concrete stanchion at Dearborn and Adams in the Chicago Loop. Captured in April 2018.
Mobile phones are enabling African countries to leapfrog generations of communications technology as they spread rapidly.
Usable with attribution and link to: FutureAtlas.com