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We think of text messages as a relatively new thing - but - written text has been about for almost 5,500 years.
The oldest written graffiti was found in ancient Rome around 2500 years ago.
"Romani ite domum".
Life of Brian - Latin Lesson - Romans go home!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=wjOfQfxmTLQ
Most graffiti from the time was boasts about sexual experiences. Graffiti in Ancient Rome was a form of communication, and was not considered vandalism.
Candid shot, Sidmouth, Devon , UK.
As the year of 2025 comes to an end, I am taking it easy on the photography. For Flickr Friday a simple "Thank you" to all that visit and comment over the past getting close to 14 years now, also to Flickr itself for being here!
Tomorrow Is Good Friday
I won't be uploading a photo till after Easter
The Easter message is one of Love Hope and Faith
So difficult for many to feel any of these things whilst a malevolent virus is on the rampage throughout the world.
I hope and I pray for this virus to be wiped out - not all the loving people on this earth...and for everyone affected by the virus
My heart goes out to you all...
My guestbook messages for hi-cafe have been lost due to an error and my mistake, they are all gone.
There are zero saved messages.
I am very very shocked... :'-(
I am so sorry to those who wrote messages.
When I got into my car the other day I looked up and found this 'helicopter' on my windshield pointing toward the sun! A good reminder for us all - reach for the light!
125 pictures in 2025 #61 Message in a picture
7922c 2019 05 27 001 file
Image viewed on Commentary page of
The Oklahoman dated 5/26/19
Credits: Lisa Benson
Washington Post
Writers Group
Photo By: Cate Infinity
Shot in Second Life Official Viewer in Ultra. No edit.
Location: Drone Haven
Drone Haven stands as a somber monument to humanity’s fleeting reign, a forsaken city overtaken by the relentless march of nature. Towering, rusted skyscrapers—once symbols of progress—now crumble into the earth, their skeletal frames bound in a suffocating embrace of vines and moss. Faded posters and the echoes of forgotten graffiti serve as grim premonitions: “The End is Near!” On the fringes, a last-ditch survivalist camp briefly defied extinction. Dreamers, with fragile hope, planted gardens and built shelters in a futile act of defiance. But disease, depletion, and discord swiftly snatched away their fleeting defiance, leaving only silence and creeping green. At the city's heart, the butcher shop—a relic of human industry—stands decayed and broken. Its walls, softened by moss and pierced by vines, speak of a once-vibrant world now swallowed by time. The eerie message lingers: “The End is Near!” A grim echo of human ambition, now lost in nature’s quiet dominion. Among the ruins, drones—mechanical phantoms—still wander, remnants of their creators' ambition. They dutifully plant life during the Echocycle, maintaining the city as both a testament to human legacy and nature's quiet triumph. But even these tireless machines, bound by the limits of their energy, will one day cease. The paradox is clear: humanity’s imprint, though indelible, is as ephemeral as the machines it birthed. Drone Haven whispers a haunting truth: humankind, for all its perceived significance, is but a fleeting echo against the eternal backdrop of nature’s vast, unyielding cycles. In the city’s rust and bloom, it mourns the inevitable collapse, the fragility of life, and the inescapable reality that all things—natural or artificial—are bound to fade into silence.
-Frost, "Birches"
So I have returned to campus without my camera!! It was fixed and ready to be picked up but by the time I got the message, they were closed :(. Hopefully can go back home to get it in the next 2 weeks.
So more stuff from the archives!!