MY CAMERA NEVER LIES (P1+A3)Sweeper Active
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Keep Lying
Keep Lying to me
Just Keep Lying
Keep Lying to me
Don't go
Fucking with my fantasy
Keep Lying to me
Baby I've known lonely
So let me down now slowly
You know me
Tell me I'm your only
Even if it hurts
Keep Lying
Keep Lying to me
Just Keep Lying
Keep Lying to me
Don't go
Fucking with my fantasy
Keep Lying to me
Tell me a story
Let's make believe
If you're lying I'll listen
Say it through your teeth
Make me a prison
And throw away the key
'Cause I know what I'm missing
It's better than nothing
Located on the Nete river, Lier was settled in the 8th century and developed around the chapel of St. Peter. Lier became an important textile centre in the 14th century. It was besieged and taken by the Spanish in 1582, by the Dutch in 1595, and by the English in 1706 during the War of the Spanish Succession.
Lier is a French commune that was granted city rites in 1212. It is located in the Flanders region of Northern Belgium. Located on the Nete river, Lier was settled in the 8th century and developed around the chapel of St. Peter. Lier became an important textile centre in the 14th century. It was besieged and taken by the Spanish in 1582, by the Dutch in 1595, and by the English in 1706 during the War of the Spanish Succession. Belgian nationalists resisted a Dutch attack in 1830. Belgium has seen its fair share of war and occupation.
Destruction of Lier occurred as a result of bombing in Antwerp in 1914; however, many of the medieval structures survived including, the Gothic belfry, St. Gommarus’ Church and the béguinage.
Dún Aonghasa (Unofficial anglicised version Dun Aengus) is the best-known of several prehistoric hill forts on the Aran Islands of County Galway, Republic of Ireland. It lies on Inis Mór, at the edge of a 100-metre-high (330 ft) cliff.
A popular tourist attraction, Dún Aonghasa is an important archaeological site.
History
It is not known exactly when Dún Aonghasa was built, though it is now thought that most of the structures date from the Bronze Age and Iron Age. T. F. O'Rahilly surmised in what is known as O'Rahilly's historical model that it was built in the 2nd century BC by the Builg following the Laginian conquest of Connacht.Excavations at the site indicate that the first construction goes back to 1100 BC, when rubble was piled against large upright stones to form the first enclosure. Around 500 BC, the triple wall defenses were probably constructed along the fort's western side.
The 19th-century artist George Petrie called "Dún Aonghasa" "the most magnificent barbaric monument in Europe". Its name, meaning "Fort of Aonghas", may refer to the pre-Christian god of the same name described in Irish mythology, or the mythical king, Aonghus mac Úmhór. It has thus traditionally been associated with the Fir Bolg.
Form and function
The fort consists of a series of four concentric walls of dry stone construction, built on a high cliff some one hundred metres above the sea. At the time of its construction sea levels were considerably lower and a recent Radio Telefis Eireann documentary estimates that originally it was 1000 metres from the sea. Surviving stonework is four metres wide at some points. The original shape was presumably oval or D-shaped but parts of the cliff and fort have since collapsed into the sea. Outside the third ring of walls lies a defensive system of stone slabs, known as a cheval de frise, planted in an upright position in the ground and still largely well-preserved. These ruins also feature a huge rectangular stone slab, the function of which is unknown. Impressively large among prehistoric ruins, the outermost wall of Dún Aonghasa encloses an area of approximately 6 hectares (14 acres).
Today
The walls of Dún Aonghasa have been rebuilt to a height of 6m and have wall walks, chambers, and flights of stairs. The restoration is easily distinguished from the original construction by the use of mortar.[citation needed]
There is a small museum illustrating the history of the fort and its possible functions. Also in the vicinity is a Neolithic tomb and a small heritage park featuring examples of a traditional thatched cottage and an illegal poteen distillery.
Je me laisse aller où la route mène ! Une chanson par Daniel Lavoie. www.youtube.com/watch?v=nJvpWPJ8Xww&list=OLAK5uy_k5a_...
I thought I loved you but what I loved was how your presence made me feel. The moments when I felt worthless and yet you made me feel I was worth something. I enjoyed the attention, affection and loyalty. But most of all, I enjoyed that invisible control I realized I had over you. Maybe I did try to love you, but I just couldn't completely, there were shinier stars within my reach. The more flashy type that I preferred over you. Yet, I didn't want to let you go, I wanted to still keep you for myself but I also wanted to have the other.
Was I really so confused? Or perhaps just greedy? Of course not, I knew exactly what I wanted and I took it all...and I will still keep taking it because you allowed me to anyways.
You act like you are strong, you act like it doesn't bother you that I took in another star and still keep you close. How weird is that? But the longer I drag this little game stringing you with me through the sorrows and misery of my journey, the more I realized I am loosing that sweet control over you. Maybe I should have just chose you like I said I would always do...
It's too late now for that...
I watched you turned your head away from me, a small knowing smile forming on your lips as you told me sweetly that you knew all along about my faded lies...
P.S. Wanted to write something different for a change. Thought it would be cool to think from a different perspective...
The perspective of a narcissist. So, watch out!
Today is the day to vote!
Our vote is our voice. Let’s vote for our rights, science, health, our planet, dignity and sanity. I voted last week in my first presidential election. Hoping for hope and the voice of reason.
Another 10-stop from Blast Beach a few weeks ago as I can't seem to get my backside into gear and get up for a sunrise of late.
Tucked away in Western Australia’s Yalgorup National Park, within the quiet shallows of Lake Clifton, lies something truly extraordinary — almost more science fiction than fact. These knobbly, unassuming formations are **thrombolites**: living, rock-like structures built by ancient microbial communities.
What makes them so special? Thrombolites are incredibly rare! They’re among the few surviving examples on Earth of life forms similar to those that began oxygenating our planet billions of years ago. According to wiki, unlike the more well-known stromatolites, which grow in tidy layers, thrombolites have a "clotted, chaotic internal structure" — a bit like my brain on most days! They’re messy, ancient, and utterly fascinating.
As we stood on the boardwalk, watching the sun filter through the nutrient-rich waters, which is just the way these microorganisms like it, we felt small. I was staring at the descendants of the planet’s earliest architects of breathable air, still quietly persisting in a world that has changed beyond recognition.
They’ve survived for millennia, but they’re fragile — vulnerable to rising salinity, pollution, and, sadly, careless human behaviour. Just last year, they suffered significant damage after many visitors, in pursuit of the aurora australis, wandered into restricted areas. The result? Extensive harm to the thrombolites and their delicate microbial mats. Makes you almost ashamed to be a photographer! I’ll be polite and refrain from calling them what I really think of them ..... *deep breaths*
I consider ourselves lucky, truly lucky, to see them still hanging on, whispering stories from the origins of life - rare, ancient & alive. I hope more people come to understand their importance, and that these incredible rare living fossils not only survive but thrive.
Sorry for the rant. Have a great end to the week! Thanks kindly for any likes/comments, they are always appreciated.
Waterscape 38/100 in 2025
One morning, there were a handful of leopard frogs who were actively hunting for insects. Behind me was a boardwalk and when anyone walked on it, the frogs totally disappeared and it took some time before they'd resurface. I had hoped to catch one in action, but that day, I was lucky just to capture a frog waiting for its breakfast.
Thank you for your visits and comments, much appreciated. Have a great weekend!
Two Steps From Hell - Caradhras youtu.be/aBodhgVPbxs
situé dans le massif forestier de Saint-Gobain, cet ensemble de bâtiments dépendait de l’abbaye bénédictine de Saint-Nicolas-aux-Bois, à proximité. Connu sous le nom du Tortoir – toponymie liée probablement à l’existence d’un ancien pressoir ou plus vraisemblablement d’un moulin à foulon, ce domaine ecclésiastique, donné en 1130 par le chapitre cathédral de Laon à l’abbaye, avait une vocation agricole et forestière et n’était ni une maladrerie ni un manoir abbatial. Un logis et des dépendances agricoles sont attestés au XIIIe siècle. Le domaine affermé depuis au moins 1604, en mauvais état, fait l’objet de gros travaux en 1660. Vendu à la Révolution, il reste dans la même famille jusqu’en 1883. Classé parmi les Monuments historiques en 1912, il est racheté en 1925 pour servir de domaine d’expérimentation agricole avant d’être restauré par l’architecte Jean Trouvelot.
Jadis clos de murs et formant un quadrilatère, il est aujourd’hui réduit à un complexe de bâtiments qui occupent deux côtés en retour d’équerre et se composent d’une part d’un logis et d’une chapelle et d’autre part d’un grand bâtiment dont l’affectation primitive est indéterminée, mais supposée avoir été un réfectoire et dortoir des hôtes ou encore un cellier avec dortoir au-dessus. Cette aile est rythmée sur sa façade sud par huit grandes baies répétées sur les deux niveaux. Si les baies de l’étage sont courantes au XIIIe siècle, celles du rez-de-chaussée à réseau polylobé sont d’un modèle rare, plus civil que religieux. Chaque angle de ce bâtiment repose sur une tourelle assise sur des trompes, signe plus d’apparat que de défense ; une cheminée monumentale est encore visible sur chacun des pignons ; l’élévation nord a été très remaniée. La chapelle et le logis de dimensions plus modestes offrent encore un décor intérieur raffiné : culots à tête humaine sur la cheminée et aux abouts des poutres de la charpente.
La datation proposée pour cet ensemble est du début du XIVe siècle .
vue pano réalisée avec photomerge et 2 photos
Pushkar is one of the oldest existing cities of India. It lies on the shore of the Pushkar Sarovar (Lake). The date of its actual origin is not known, but legend associates Brahma with its creation. The city has many temples and ghats and has people from all over the world coming here. It has flourishing market with loads of tourists and pilgrims. This old Sadhu I spotted in one such market. Thick gray eyebrows and mustache, stubble and wearing head scarf, he looked stern and gave a very angry look to me showing displeasure at being shot!
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Nam Tso གནམ་མཚོ།
salt lake The lake lies at an elevation of 4,718 m, and has a surface area of 1,870 square kilometres. It is the highest salt lake in the world, and largest salt lake in the Tibet Autonomous Region. However, it is not the largest salt lake in the Tibetan Plateau. That title belongs to KokoNor མཚོ་སྔོན་ མཚོ་ཁྲི ་ཤོར་རྒྱལ་མོ་ (almost twice the size of Namtso). Namtso has five uninhabited islands of reasonable size, in addition to one or two rocky outcrops. The islands have been used for spiritual retreat by pilgrims who walk over the lake's frozen surface at the end of winter, carrying their food with them. They spend the summer there, unable to return to shore again until the water freezes the following winter. This practice is no longer permitted under the Communist Chinese regime in Tibet. www.footprinttravelguides.com/c/2848/tibet/&Action=pr...
Bird photography sounds peaceful. You picture me quietly communing with nature, sipping coffee while majestic creatures flutter by, posing politely like they’re in a Disney movie. That’s a lie. The truth involves hauling lawn chairs, tripods, and a camera bag that weighs more than a third grader across the desert before sunrise—all to sit motionless next to a glorified livestock trough filled with water I wouldn’t let my enemies drink.
This cattle tank, which I have gentrified into a “desert oasis” (by tossing in a stick), is now a fine-dining establishment for birds. The stick is important. I found it on the ground, which makes it natural, and I chose one with bark and lichen because birds don’t like muddy feet—and I like a pretty perch.
Birds don’t just fly in, though. First, they land about twenty-five feet away in what I call the staging area, where they scope things out and decide if it’s safe to drink. Just as I know birds come here for water, they know hawks come here for birds. If it seems risky, they vanish into the brush to post angry tweets about predator privilege.
This time, an American Robin decided to play along. He glided down to the branch, dipped his beak into the water, then raised his head to swallow—because robins, like most birds, can’t gulp. They rely on gravity to get the water down. No swallow muscles. No peristalsis. Just tip and pray.
As he tilted his head back, water spilled from his beak. I fired off a burst of photos. In this frame, he’s in perfect profile, water spilling from his bill, with a few droplets stopped in mid-air and a few reached the surface, sending delicate ripples across the pond.
His reflection was beautiful and haunting, like a bird pondering the mysteries of hydration—or maybe just wondering why some guy shoved a branch in his drinking fountain.
In the desert, water is liquid gold. To birds, cattle tanks are survival. To me, they’re proof that lugging heavy gear into the wilderness to photograph a robin mid-sip is a perfectly reasonable way to spend retirement.
Especially if you're trying to avoid housework.
He lifts his head to the sky—a gravity feed,
’Cause evolution said, “Nah—gulping’s not a need.
Where to go, I don't even know
Only big white lies to get by 'cause
I don't wanna make you cry, stay here by my side
Only big white lies to get by 'cause
Don't know where to go, oh, I don't even know, oh
I've been telling you white lies so you would stay
I don't wanna make you cry, stay here by my side
Only big white lies to get by 'cause