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A brisk walk down to Findhorn Bay this evening with a view to clearing the Christmas cobwebs and hopefully catching a decent sunset in the process. This old log has been down the bay for some time now and is not a product of the storm of the past two days. With the direction of the sunset at this time of year I was hoping to capture the log 'pointing' to the fading light.
This shot wasn't the main reason I went to Shifnal for, but it'll have to do, the other being thwarted by fog or heavy mist at least.
56105 with 6C37 Chirk Kronospan to Carlisle Yard thunders through Shifnal on Sunday 17.11.13
97302 ‘Ffestiniog & Welsh Highland Railways / Rheilffyrdd Ffestiniog ac Eryri’ and 97304 (formerly 'John Tiley') storm through Hanwood, west of Shrewsbury, with 6C56 09:50 Aberystwyth – Chirk Kronospan loaded logs.
{Log of CT-7869, "Greeves"}
-0900, Kamino Cloning facilities
-I waited in line with the other clones, ready to board the humongous cruiser. We were slowly marching into it, and I turned and looked into the blank visor of the guy beside me. I couldn't see his face, but I could tell it was Verb, because he was fidgeting nervously like he always did before something big, like our final training exercise last week, the one that determined if we were "good enough to fight," as Mech–another man from our squad–had put it.
I looked the other way and saw someone approaching. An ARC Trooper. I knew that as I had been told our squad had the potential to be them, and from seeing them supervise us. From his armour colour–green–I could tell he was only a sergeant, not as high-ranking as Conduct (our ARC overseer) had been.
He put his hand on the shoulder of Packer, another man from our squad.
"Son, I'd like you and your squad to come with me," he said. I could here Verb's gasp from inside his helmet. We stepped out of line and followed him back into the facility, through the sleek-white corridors. He led us into a separate room where a nervous-looking young man stood.
He removed his helmet, revealing a scar on his face and the standard black hair. He nodded at us and we all did the same, setting our helmets on the table. We had all shaved our heads to show unity, except for Spastic, but he was a little odd.
"You're no doubt wondering why you're here," said the ARC Trooper, "but first, let me tell you my name. I'm ARC-1089, or 'Crash'. But you will call me 'sir' or 'sergeant'. I've been assigned to train you to become the best of the best. It will not be easy, I promise you that. But we will do it. This man"–he gestured to the nervous-looking guy beside him–"has been watching you train for awhile. He thinks you have great potential, along with a lot of the supervisors."
Mech raised his hand.
"So, we're staying here for more training instead of going off to fight?"
"Correct," said Crash, "but in time you will fight. Head back to sector A-38, your new dorms. Training starts tomorrow. You are dismissed."
This is the start of a new series I will be doing, focusing on the Clone Wars. I'm sorry if this issue was a little boring, but it will get better, trust me. I hope you enjoyed, and happy thanksgiving.
-Ian
Barbara is making a visual reference to Twin Peaks's Log Lady. But, Little Otik comes to mind more than anything.
A handmade cabin....and handmade and utilitarian clothing!
This image is from 1969, but it sets a 1970s reform-era mood.
White Georgia. Near Pine Log WMA.
Arthur Cleveland Bent writes, " Wilson (1832) discovered this handsome warbler and named it for the State in which he found it most abundant. The name is not inappropriate, for Kentucky is not far from the center of it abundance in the breeding season." About it's habitat he writes, " The Kentucky warbler is a woodland bird, a lover of deep shade and dense, damp thickets." and "Draw a line three feet from the ground, and you mark the usual limit of the Kentucky warbler's quest for food." Regarding it's song he quotes Dr. Chapman (1912), "His song is entirely unlike that of any other Warbler. It is a loud, clearly whistled performance of five, six, or seven notes--tur-dle, tur-dle, tur-dle--resembling in tone some of the calls of the Carolina Wren. Even in the woods it may be heard at a distance of about one hundred and fifty yards. In the height of the breeding season this Warbler is a most persistent singer." From part two of Life Histories of North American Wood Warblers.
Our son came today with our granddaughter so he could help his dad cutting the logs up so we can finish getting them all split and stacked. Our daughter-in-law couldn't make is as her sister was in the hospital so she was visiting her. View large to see the wood bits from the chain saw.
I will thank you in advance for any comment or fave on my image as I may not always have the time to get back.
Log cabin fully finished inside with couch, woodstove, propane cookstove.
Located north of Carmacks
- call Heinz:
1-867-994-2599 rivermen@bigriveryukon.ca
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"A close up image of logs burning on a roaring log fire..."
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burning yule logs to celebrate the shortest day of the year - a precursor to today's christmas and where the term yule or 'jul' in swedish more or less comes from.
djurgården, stockholm.
Taking the back road to the coast we drove by this logging landing. To live in Oregon for any amount of time in your life and taking drives up through the hills, they are common. The time of day and lighting made this time special. Distance is deceiving. The line that runs from this bulldozer across the ravine is so long and the ravine so deep it would take a helicopter to get it there. The foggy clouds were drifting through the valley and made this scene great. And I love heavy equipment, lol, what can I say.
Terry's shot