"methodically dead nature"... or, "methodically still life."

Something from old times... that came out these days from reading 2003a again and 2006 too.

A Tea for the Tillerman

Acte 4

 

A Most Curious Conclusion

 

A slow sinking feeling came over me as I saw the distraughtly gutted look in Ginny’s eyes as she realized the fancy necklace she had been wearing had somehow fallen away and had been lost.

 

We both immediately began to look down around her feet.

 

Finding nothing Ginny looks up at me with worried eyes, her fingers still stroking her sheath dress’s high neckline. I tell her soothingly…

 

“Need to retrace your steps luv, since the last time you knew it was still there. That’s probably the best course of action.”

 

“I don’t remember…” she said panic-stricken.

 

I thought hard, not an easy thing to do with the after-effects of a bit too much alcoholic drink. Then my eyes lit up as I hit upon it.

 

You still had it on when I left you at the pagoda to visit the loo.

 

“I left there when I started looking for you, Cade. Cor Blimey, been back to the house, and everywhere in between since haven’t I?” She told me this with a miserably unhappy sigh. “I would really hate to have lost that .”

 

Taking her arm we then began retracing her steps in backorder, searching the ground in vain until we finally, now quite dejected, made it back to the still deserted pagoda.

 

We began to search the area in a now desperate manner. But nothing sparkled that would have given away the lost

necklaces hiding spot.

 

Ginny came over to me.

 

I watched, her black satin Qipao sheath dress with the green lining flowing elegantly along her figure, the rhinestone dragon with the emerald eyes shimmering. It was a shame that someone looking that pretty should be so sad I thought with pity.

 

“Would Cleo have gone off with it?” I pondered aloud as I squatted, peering under the steps.

 

“That Estella scared him off,” Ginny said from the other side of the pagoda.

 

“Estella?” I asked

 

“ She was with Claire, and that odd lady who I told you was taking to Cassie.”

 

“Estella had intentionally scared away poor Cleo and then went chasing after the poor thing.

 

What about” Wood Bead Lady? I asked

 

Ginny half-heartedly snickered. “ I like that name.”

 

Then went on…

 

“She sat down, literally right next to me. Claire reached over wanting me to hold her. Which I did. We chatted for a bit. Estella came back alone, and stood behind me teasing Claire.”

 

“It was then I decided to head off to find you. Leaving your “Wood Bead Lady, whom I handed Claire back to, and Estella there.

 

“That lady sure is an odd one, Dontcha think?” Ginny commented.

 

I arose, agreeing with her, my mind racing. Something was nagging at it, but for the life of me, I couldn’t think of what it was. All I could focus on really was trying to help my friend find that errant necklace of hers.

 

“It’s not here, is it?” Ginny said with a miserable tone of voice.

 

I went over and reassuringly hugged her.

 

“ Let’s go find my mum. Maybe someone found it and turned it over to her. Wouldn’t it be funny if we spent all this time looking and she had it all the while?”

 

This cheered her up, and we began to walk back, a bit more happy and hopeful.

 

==========================

 

We passed the lady in purple silk who was drinking wine as she chatted away with several other ladies.

 

Gone was the “Wood Bead Lady” and her gang of followers.

 

The ladies turned to us as we passed.

 

I stared with an open mouth…

 

Gone also was the lady in purple silk’s diamond and sapphire necklace!

 

The other two were surprisingly not wearing necklaces either, and one, wearing an old satin and lace wedding dress, I could have sworn had been wearing a rather handsome pearl choker!?

 

“Cheers, “ they said to us

 

“Cheers” Ginny answered back half-heartedly

 

But I didn't answer. My attention had been pulled away, as the several things I had observed recently tried to click together in my mind, but it was like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces.

 

We were almost at the table when Cassie caught up with us and greeted Ginny. I was looking away, watching mum straighten a few things at the tables. Her necklace sparkled as she bent over.

 

Then I spotted Estella carrying Claire over to mum.

 

Claire reached out her arms to be picked up. Mum stopped what she was doing, reached down, and lifted her. Then she was hugged and patted by my mum as she spoke to the caterer. While sneaky Estella watched from alongside them.

 

Claire’s mother Clarice had just then come up to join them.

 

I gasped upon seeing that little Clair had that quickly unclasped and was now holding the ends of mum’s diamond necklace in one hand.

 

As her mother pulled her away, Claire let go and I saw the necklace fall inside the front of my Mum’s dress. She was wearing a full silk slip which must have prevented her from feeling it siding down.

 

I saw it plop out and fall to the ground between her shimmery silver sandals.

 

With relief, I saw Estella bend down to the ground behind mum to retrieve it.

 

Relief turned to horror as I then saw Estella, instead of handing the diamond necklace over, quickly walking off with it, unnoticed by the others.

 

I gasped, hand to my throat, too frozen in disbelief to act.

 

Estella disappeared behind a tall hedge that blocked the portable toilets the guests were using, from sight.

 

It was then I saw the “Wood Bead Lady” coming from around the side corner of our house. And also disappeared behind the same hedge.

 

Then, that quickly the Wood Bead Lady appeared from the hedge on the side Estella had entered.

 

Remembering the game, I assumed that Estella had handed the diamond necklace off to her. The lady’s actions appeared to confirm that.

 

She had stopped, and I could see her looking at Mum, who was still chatting away, clueless as to what was going on.

 

Then the “Wood Bead Lady” saw me gaping at her.

 

With a start, she held up her skirt turned, and moved off across the green towards the gardens. I knew then she was heading for the thicker ring of woods that borders our property on the other side.

 

No one except me has been paying any attention to what was happening.

 

Wood Bead Lady” had almost entered the gardens before I finally was able to give a warning voice to Ginny over the situation.

 

“Hurry, she may be getting away with them” I snapped, grabbing a puzzled Ginny by the arm.

 

I started to apologize to Cassie that we had to go when suddenly I was gobsmacked. Cassie no longer was wearing a necklace either!

  

From behind me, I heard a bewildered Ginny ask...

 

“Who is getting away with what?”

 

I turned and nodded in the direction of the fleeing lady.

 

“Wood Bead Lady, No time to explain” I yelled behind me as I pulled Ginny away.

 

We began weaving in and out of quests, leaving bewildered ladies in our wake.

 

I saw Mrs. Shannon directly ahead and gently moved her away.

 

“Hello Cade, what's up?”

 

“Explain later” I called out over my shoulder

 

I looked back at her and gulped, Mrs. Shannon was no longer wearing what had been her rather expensive ruby necklace. Nor was Gabriella wearing hers…

 

I swore under my breath as I remembered what I had seen by the wrought iron bench in my secret garden. I pictured the lady we were pursuing, Estella, and little Claire playing what I had thought was a game of keep away using their necklaces...

 

“Bloody hell am I a twit, it had not been a game played merely to amuse a young child.” Claire had been a pawn, groomed to be the necklace-lifting “Finger Smith” to use an old pickpocketing term. I was now swearing to myself not to have caught on sooner.

 

“Perfect gambit. If wee Claire was caught removing your necklace, the assumption was merely a young child playing and accidentally undoing my necklace. . The victim would twitter to the tyke teasing her as you silly dickens, while the necklace was retrieved and the young miss Claire would be hugged for being so precious.

 

Buggers, if I haven’t seen them play acting in the secret garden, I’d have thought the same if it had been me. But I probably would not have been one to catch on, and have lost my necklace as a result, as Ginny had.“

 

I thought all this as Ginny and I was scurrying our way through the garden as fast as our heels would let us.

 

We reached the outer edge of the garden, a green space of about 28 meters, only to see the thief had run into the woods ahead. I caught a glimpse of her using the well-worn dirt path that led through them. The path would eventually be ending up in an old cemetery with the road(Abbots Chase Lane)on its outskirts.

 

When we finally reached that path and entered the cool woods, all was quiet. No sound or sign of the lady thief. We removed our heels and slowed to an uncomfortable walk...

 

I warned Ginny as she walked beside me.

“Keep your eyes open”

 

“So could you at least tell me now what's going on? She asked

 

“I think that Wood Bead Lady has mum's necklace, and I strongly suspect she has yours also. Along with the Shannons and who knows how many other necklaces she got that Mum’s guests were wearing. I told her in between gasps of now quite labored breaths.

 

Ginny stopped me with a gasp, a hand to her breast...asking...

 

“Cadence, are you saying my necklace was not lost but nicked?”

 

I nodded, “ By the Wood Bead Lady I repeated.”

 

“ How did she manage all that?” Ginny asked, her turn to be gobsmacked.

 

“She had a helper. “

 

I moved Ginny on, continuing the pursuit, slow as it was. I explained in a hushed voice what all I had observed, as we walked on.

 

================

 

After what felt like an hour, but only had really been ten minutes, we finally reach the cemetery. Looking around we see nothing moving. All is eerily still and silent.

 

We had just begun moving in along the path when suddenly Ginny swore very loudly and grabbed my shoulder. “Bloody well twisted an ankle!” She wailed quite loudly.

 

I led her off to the side of the path. “Here sit on this bench,” I instructed her as I helped her down.

 

“Go on..” she screeched aloud, wincing In pain massaging her ankle.

 

I went on alone, cautiously, leaving my whimpering friend behind.

 

I felt a bit more vulnerable now that some of the excitement of the chase appeared gone, and I was now alone. Though my adrenaline was still making my heart beat fast.

 

I passed by a mausoleum, catching my reflection in the mirror.

 

“All dressed up and alone.” I thought fearfully to myself. “What a wicked turn of events.”

 

Reaching an open gate on the other side I go out onto a small parking lot.

 

Which lets out on the paved road that intersects the road our house is on. I hear a car's tyres screech off in the distance.

 

Miserably I admit to myself

“I think we lost her”

 

And with her had gone mums diamonds Ginny's pendent, Mrs. Shannon's and her daughter rubies, that innocent lady's sapphire necklace, Cassie’s diamond garnet necklace, and who knew what other guests had lost their expensive necklaces to Claire's seemingly innocent hugs...

 

If only I had been quicker on the uptake I sighed as with my mind's eye I pictured little Claire hugging mum and the terribly unsettling aftermath.

 

Now totally feeling both dejected and depressed, I turn and make out way back to Ginny waiting alone in the cemetery.

 

>>>>>>>>

  

I made it back to the stone bench, only to find it empty

 

I hear a familiar voice whimper close by…

 

It was Ginny!

 

I move off and from behind a tree saw down into a small gully

 

There I see the “Wood Bead lady” holding a knife to Ginny's chest as her free hand was eagerly removing my friend's remaining emeralds.

 

She had already taken Ginny's emerald earrings and was now gleefully stuffing her emerald bracelet, down inside her purse. As I saw them. She then began working off Ginny's pretty ring, saying wickedly to her victim in the process.

 

“ Find the catered private parties, I always say, they have nice stuff with easy pickings, like this one, wouldn't you agree dearie?

Heard about this one from two school girls flapping their whiney lips on a city double-decker about having to work here as caterers.

Then I found that simply precious little one and her gullible sneaky friend, who I was able to use in acquiring several of these rich twits necklaces. Yours was the first my sweet. Didn’t feel a thing did you? Well, none of ‘em did, so engrossed in playing with the young ‘un weren’t they now. When I finished that game by playing it on that Shannon broad, I left the tyke in the hands of Estella. Then I paid a “visit” inside the house to find the ladies' bedrooms. That’s where the good stuff usually can be found. Pity the Hostess was wearing the good diamonds, but I found enough in her jewel case to compensate, and in her cheeky daughters also. Cleaned them both out., did it I ” she cackled with delight.

 

I gasped inwardly, heart sinking, remembering I had left my case open. All my jewellery, including the rings and bracelet I had taken off, had been stolen. And all of my mum’s pretties also….

  

The “Wood Bead Lady“ continues as she finished working off the emerald ring from Ginny’s finger and plopped it into her purse. She began to methodically paw a shaking Ginny over checking that nothing had been missed as she happily smirked to herself…

 

“Was quite hard to pass up the opportunity of acquiring that far too lovely diamond necklace the Hostess was so alluringly wearing, just begging to be plucked off. Funny, when I was going through her bedroom, I was fantasizing that she would have to come into the house for something so I could…but she didn’t. So I had to have one more look at the pretty things before leaving…Didn’t I?… Wait now….What was that?”

 

As I listened in, with a deep sinking feeling, I move back, my expression shows that I’m desperately thinking of a way out of this.

I end up stepping on a twig in the process, the sharp crack it makes giving me away.

 

The Wood Bead Lady” stopped talking and immediately looked towards the source of the sound she had heard.

 

Seeing me, “Wood Bead Lady” grabs Ginny. Pulling my struggling friend tightly up against her, now holding the knife to Ginny’s throat.

 

“Wood Bead Lady” snarls at me, her lip raising like a bulldog. Her words dripping with a coveting wickedness

 

“Welcome here my pretty one. Should have let me go. Come down now and join your friend my sweet and let me have

another close peek of your pretty party dress.”

 

She beckons me to come down with the knife.

 

“Then I'll make you a bit more comfortable. It must be hot walking around weighed down with all those lovely jewels your a wearin! “

 

I took a step back, Ginny smirks, giving me a wink as the “Wood Bead Lady” continues.

 

“Don't run away love. I have your friend, and if you don’t want any harm to befall her…”

  

She left her sentence dangling, her focus now entirely on me, and off from her now still captive.

 

A bit encumbered by the tight-fitting Qipao dress, Ginny had slowly positioned her legs. I saw her take a deep breath, and in a fluid motion grabbed the lady's arm and with a yell that resounded loudly through the cemetery, neatly backflipped her, In a perfectly executed jit Jitsu move.

 

The knife had flown from the thief's hand clattering against the side of a gravestone.

 

Not at all surprised, I had kept my wits, As I quickly moved down into the gully and quickly snatched it up.

 

Walking over to her prone, dazed figure, I spit out my words with a great deal of relief and satisfaction as I pick up her weighty purse...

 

“Wood Bead Lady’s” eyes were opened wide, watching me while she lay sprawled out on the ground. as I spoke.

 

“If you hadn't been such a greedy bitch, luv, you would have gotten clean away with your little scheme. You went “a bridge too far” as the saying goes by having Estella going for me Mum’s diamonds. That’s when My cheeky ass finally caught on, otherwise, you would have got away scot-free with the jewels!”

 

Ginny comes over and hugs me. I opened the “Wood Bead Lady’s” purse and hearing the lady thief moan, I continued…

 

And really ‘DEARIE’ was it worth it being unscrupulous enough to take the jewellery from innocent children like Claire and Gabriella! Ginny figured you would hide like the coward you are, and came up with the idea to fake the hurt ankle. Figuring she would present an easy-looking victim, the kind you obviously prefer, whose shiny emeralds would be a far too tempting lure to bring you out of hiding. Ginny is a pretty damn good actress wouldn't you say!?”

 

The lady just moans more. I open the purse so Ginny and I can have a look.

 

Our eyes bulged as we take in the not small pile of expensively glistening jewelry inside.

 

At that moment We all hear the tyres of a car crunching in the parking lot. Soon I hear the welcome voices of papa and my brother calling out.

 

It must have been his car I head heard the screeching of it’s tyres off in the distance.

 

It was a happy reunion, and a relief to see the “Wood Bead Lady” being led off wearing papa’s cuffs.

 

As an addendum, I have to admit I had it wrong.

 

It was discovered that the weaselly Estella, had indeed been helping the “Wood Bead Lady” with her scheme by standing behind a lady holding Claire, waiting to snatch up the dropped necklace.

 

But, when the “Wood Bead Lady” had disappeared after taking Mrs. Shannon’s rubies ( to break in and pilfer our bedrooms) Estella then started to use Claire’s game to her own advantage. First to acquire Gabrielle’s ruby necklace, then apparently boldly upping her game by going for Mum’s diamonds.

 

This became clear after it was discovered that Mum’s Diamond necklace was not inside the “Wood Bead Lady’s “ handbag.

 

Estella was questioned, caught in a lie, and eventually admitted she had sold both necklaces in a pawn shop for £25. They were both recovered.

 

So it was just a coincidence that the two passed by each other behind the Hedge.

 

A coincidence that I happened to have seen, and was probably the only reason the “Wood Bead Lady” was caught red-handed with the jewels.

 

Fini

 

Follow me on Instagram

 

Following up with my last post, here is another one from Seattle’s 12th Street Bridge.

 

In the past, I preferred to shoot ultra wide but I’ve caught a niche for panoramas. Because shooting a panorama image is more methodical and the process is more complex, I find it far more rewarding when things go right. I mentioned this in a previous post, but I’ve been using the Panning Clamp from Really Right Stuff and it makes setting up a panoramic shot, very easy.

 

Setup was pretty simple; camera was mounted on tripod, image stabilization was turned off. Camera was mounted in vertical position with 17mm lens and four shots were taken using a panning clamp. Then the images were stitched together in Photoshop CS6 and developed in Lightroom 4.

 

All the gear is listed below:

 

Camera: Olympus OM-D E-M5

 

Lens: Olympus M.ZUIKO Digital 17mm f/1.8 Lens

Aperture: f/5.6

Exposure: NA

Focal Length: 17mm

ISO Speed: 200

Tripod: Gitzo GT-2531 + Markins Q3t + RRS Panning Clamp + RSS BOEM5 Set: Base + L-Plate + Grip

location

Waldhausen Estate

Waldhäuser-Ost

Waldhausen

 

www.flickr.com/places/Germany/Baden-Wurttemberg/Waldhause...

 

www.flickr.com/search/?q=waldhausen&cm=canon%2Fpowers...

 

##

links

unter Folie, nachts beleuchtet

  

"Hybrid-Forschung"

●

Molecular Encoding of Specificity in Plant Processes

 

The requirement for the success of the SFB 1101 is, however, a multi-disciplinary research approach based on the wide scientific knowledge and a diverse methodical portfolio of the contributing institutes. This is guaranteed by the scientific and technological strength and synergistic interaction of the Center for Plant Molecular Biology (ZMBP) of the University of Tübingen, the participating institutes of the Max-Planck-Society (MPG) at the Tübingen campus and three associated research groups of the Centre for Organismal Studies (COS) of the University of Heidelberg.

#

Im Bereich der Pflanzenforschung liegen die deutschen Max-Planck-Institute weltweit an der Spitze.

● ● ● IMMUNEMESIS ● ● ●

 

Das Kunstwort IMMUNEMESIS verbindet die griechische Rachegottheit „Nemesis“ mit „Immunität“: zu viel Immunität rächt sich. „Bei Pflanzen besteht eine Austauschbeziehung, ein sogenannter „trade-off“ zwischen der Abwehrkraft und dem Wachstum. Schaltet die Pflanze das Immunsystem an, so geht das oft auf Kosten des Wachstums“, erläutert Weigel. Die Wissenschaftler möchten dieses Verhältnis zunächst in natürlichen Arabidopsis-Linien beschreiben. Dann soll untersucht werden, ob sich Hybride, also Nachkommen, die aus der Kreuzung zweier solcher Zuchtlinien entstehen, anders verhalten. Dies ist wichtig, da es sich bei vielen Sorten, die in der Landwirtschaft eingesetzt werden, um Hybride handelt.

 

#

 

www.uni-tuebingen.de/en/research/core-research/collaborat...

#

Forschungsschwerpunkt Molekularbiologie

 

Entwicklungsprozesse und Abwehrreaktionen

 

Das Zentrum für Molekularbiologie der Pflanzen (ZMBP) vereint Kompetenzen aus verschiedenen Fachbereichen der Mathematisch-Naturwissenschaftlichen Fakultät: Die Fachdisziplinen Genetik, Molekularbiologie, Biochemie, Zellbiologie, Physiologie und Entwicklungsbiologie kooperieren in der komplexen Pflanzenforschung.

   

Im Mittelpunkt steht die Erforschung grundlegender Entwicklungsprozesse der Pflanzen sowie die Reaktion von Pflanzen auf verschiedene Umwelteinflüsse wie Hitze, Kälte, Trockenheit oder das Eindringen von Krankheitserregern. Die pflanzlichen Forschungsobjekte sind vor allem die Ackerschmalwand (Arabidopsis thaliana), Tabak und Kartoffel.

St. Bavo Church, Haarlem, The Netherlands.

 

The organ of the Sint-Bavokerk (the Christiaan Müller organ) is one of the world's most historically important organs. It was built by the Amsterdam organ builder Christian Müller, with stucco decorations by the Amsterdam artist Jan van Logteren, between 1735 and 1738. Upon completion it was the largest organ in the world with 60 voices and 32-foot pedal-towers. In Moby-Dick (1851), Herman Melville describes the inside of a whale's mouth:

 

"Seeing all these colonnades of bone so methodically ranged about, would you not think you were inside of the great Haarlem organ, and gazing upon its thousand pipes?"

 

Many famous musicians played this organ, including Mendelssohn, Händel and the 10-year-old Mozart, who played it in 1766.

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grote_Kerk%2C_Haarlem

I’m really excited to share that my debut monograph "Collected memories" is now available.

 

Working towards this book has been a labour of love for the past 5 years and I'm incredibly proud of the result.

 

The debut monograph by Australian photographer Mark Forbes: Collected memories presents a cohesive blend of carefully composed scenes, from faded interiors and common, relatable spaces, to the romance of our environment being reclaimed by nature. Turning the pages there is a stirring sense of both subtle ordinary beauty and inherent personality sprinkled across each plate. Forbes’ photographic preference, using medium format film, is slow and methodical - and this approach can be felt throughout the quiet pages.

 

Hardcover book, 300 x 250 mm

112 pages, 57 colour plates

Published by Hatje Cantz

Printed in Berlin, Germany

Editor: Nadine Barth

Book design: Julia Wagner

Cover illustration: Seth J Lally

 

Alongside the regular edition, there is also a special signed and numbered (/50) artist limited edition of the book with one of two signed and numbered archival giclee prints.

 

Link to purchase "Collected memories" and the special artist limited edition:

 

www.markforbes.com.au/monograph

Looking southeast from Neue Bahnhofstraße.

 

"Karlstadt is a town in the Main-Spessart in the Regierungsbezirk of Lower Franconia (Unterfranken) in Bavaria, Germany. It is the administrative centre of Main-Spessart (Kreisstadt), and has a population of around 15,000.

 

Karlstadt lies on the River Main in the district (Landkreis) of Main-Spessart, roughly 25 km north of the city of Würzburg. It belongs to the Main-Franconian wine-growing region. The town itself is located on the right bank of the river, but the municipal territory extends to the left bank.

 

Since the amalgamations in 1978, Karlstadt's Stadtteile have been Gambach, Heßlar, Karlburg, Karlstadt, Laudenbach, Mühlbach, Rohrbach, Stadelhofen, Stetten, and Wiesenfeld.

 

From the late 6th to the mid-13th century, the settlement of Karlburg with its monastery and harbor was located on the west bank of the Main. It grew up around the Karlsburg, a castle perched high over the community, that was destroyed in the German Peasants' War in 1525.

 

In 1202, Karlstadt itself was founded by Konrad von Querfurt, Bishop of Würzburg. The town was methodically laid out with a nearly rectangular plan to defend Würzburg territory against the Counts of Rieneck. The plan is still well preserved today. The streets in the old town are laid out much like a chessboard, but for military reasons they are not quite straight.

 

In 1225, Karlstadt had its first documentary mention. In 1236, the castle and the village of Karlburg were destroyed in the Rieneck Feud. In 1244, winegrowing in Karlstadt was mentioned for the first time. From 1277 comes the earliest evidence of the town seal. In 1304, the town fortifications were finished. The parish of Karlstadt was first named in 1339. In 1369 a hospital was founded. Between 1370 and 1515, remodelling work was being done on the first, Romanesque parish church to turn it into a Gothic hall church. About 1400, Karlstadt became for a short time the seat of an episcopal mint. The former Oberamt of the Princely Electorate (Hochstift) of Würzburg was, after Secularization, in Bavaria's favour, passed in 1805 to Grand Duke Ferdinando III of Tuscany to form the Grand Duchy of Würzburg, and passed with this to the Kingdom of Bavaria.

 

The Jewish residents of the town had a synagogue as early as the Middle Ages. The town's synagogue was destroyed on Kristallnacht (the Night of Broken Glass, 9 November 1938) by Nazi SA men, SS, and Hitler Youth, as well as other local residents. Its destruction is recalled by a plaque at the synagogue's former site. The homes of Jewish residents were attacked as well, the possessions therein were looted or brought to the square in front of the town hall where they were burned, and the Jews living in the town were beaten.

 

Lower Franconia (German: Unterfranken) is one of seven districts of Bavaria, Germany. The districts of Lower, Middle and Upper Franconia make up the region of Franconia. It consists of nine districts and 308 municipalities (including three cities).

 

After the founding of the Kingdom of Bavaria the state was totally reorganised and, in 1808, divided into 15 administrative government regions (German: Regierungsbezirke, singular Regierungsbezirk), in Bavaria called Kreise (singular: Kreis). They were created in the fashion of the French departements, quite even in size and population, and named after their main rivers.

 

In the following years, due to territorial changes (e. g. loss of Tyrol, addition of the Palatinate), the number of Kreise was reduced to 8. One of these was the Untermainkreis (Lower Main District). In 1837 king Ludwig I of Bavaria renamed the Kreise after historical territorial names and tribes of the area. This also involved some border changes or territorial swaps. Thus the name Untermainkreis changed to Lower Franconia and Aschaffenburg, but the city name was dropped in the middle of the 20th century, leaving just Lower Franconia.

 

From 1933, the regional Nazi Gauleiter, Otto Hellmuth, (who had renamed his party Gau "Mainfranken") insisted on renaming the government district Mainfranken as well. He encountered resistance from Bavarian state authorities but finally succeeded in having the name of the district changed, effective 1 June 1938. After 1945 the name Unterfranken was restored.

 

Franconia (German: Franken, pronounced [ˈfʁaŋkŋ̍]; Franconian: Franggn [ˈfrɑŋɡŋ̍]; Bavarian: Frankn) is a region of Germany, characterised by its culture and Franconian dialect (German: Fränkisch).

 

Franconia is made up of the three Regierungsbezirke of Lower, Middle and Upper Franconia in Bavaria, the adjacent, Franconian-speaking, South Thuringia, south of the Thuringian Forest—which constitutes the language boundary between Franconian and Thuringian— and the eastern parts of Heilbronn-Franconia in Baden-Württemberg.

 

Those parts of the Vogtland lying in Saxony (largest city: Plauen) are sometimes regarded as Franconian as well, because the Vogtlandian dialects are mostly East Franconian. The inhabitants of Saxon Vogtland, however, mostly do not consider themselves as Franconian. On the other hand, the inhabitants of the Hessian-speaking parts of Lower Franconia west of the Spessart (largest city: Aschaffenburg) do consider themselves as Franconian, although not speaking the dialect. Heilbronn-Franconia's largest city of Heilbronn and its surrounding areas are South Franconian-speaking, and therefore only sometimes regarded as Franconian. In Hesse, the east of the Fulda District is Franconian-speaking, and parts of the Oden Forest District are sometimes regarded as Franconian for historical reasons, but a Franconian identity did not develop there.

 

Franconia's largest city and unofficial capital is Nuremberg, which is contiguous with Erlangen and Fürth, with which it forms the Franconian conurbation with around 1.3 million inhabitants. Other important Franconian cities are Würzburg, Bamberg, Bayreuth, Ansbach and Coburg in Bavaria, Suhl and Meiningen in Thuringia, and Schwäbisch Hall in Baden-Württemberg.

 

The German word Franken—Franconians—also refers to the ethnic group, which is mainly to be found in this region. They are to be distinguished from the Germanic people of the Franks, and historically formed their easternmost settlement area. The origins of Franconia lie in the settlement of the Franks from the 6th century in the area probably populated until then mainly by the Elbe Germanic people in the Main river area, known from the 9th century as East Francia (Francia Orientalis). In the Middle Ages the region formed much of the eastern part of the Duchy of Franconia and, from 1500, the Franconian Circle. The restructuring of the south German states by Napoleon, after the demise of the Holy Roman Empire, saw most of Franconia awarded to Bavaria." - info from Wikipedia.

 

Summer 2019 I did a solo cycling tour across Europe through 12 countries over the course of 3 months. I began my adventure in Edinburgh, Scotland and finished in Florence, Italy cycling 8,816 km. During my trip I took 47,000 photos.

 

Now on Instagram.

 

Become a patron to my photography on Patreon or donate.

Tiny wonders occur in my garden every day so I thought I'd share a few. I used to wonder why the pollen disappeared completely from the stamen on my daylilies. I never see a butterfly or a bee on them. But then I discovered these little guys and watched them. There are several different katydids - this is a smaller one - only about 1-1/2 inches long. He sits on the lily and methodically licks the pollen off the stamen like he's enjoying a popsicle.

The Hasselblad Flexbody is a fun camera to work with. I love the tilt function on it. It takes familiar places or views and lets me see them in a new way. Sometimes I can predict how tilting the plane of focus will look but a lot of the time I don't bother trying to imagine it - letting the camera itself take me on an visual exploration. While the Flexbody all but requires a tripod to use effectively, I have found that it works well to handhold it with the ground glass at a nice tilt and peer around the landscape. This takes what is normally a methodical, slow, camera and allows it to be a bit more freeflowing in what it shows me. Then, of course, once I have found a slice of the world I like and a composition to pair it with I can get my tripod set up and get the camera all locked in. Anyway, just a peek into how I have come to learn to use this camera.

 

Hasselblad Flexbody

Lomochrome Color '92 Sun-Kissed

The female Giant Ichneumon wasp, Megarhyssa marcurus is equipped with an ovipositor several times her own length. She uses this to which she drills into the side of diseased trees in order to lay an egg on the larva of another insect, the pigeon horntail (Tremex ), which is a sawfly, a close relative of wasps, bees and ants. The horntail larva grows, and is fed upon by the ichneumon larva. The ovipositor is composed of a central delivery shaft which drills into the wood and through which the egg passes. There are another two outer sheaths that protect and stiffen the central “hypodermic needle”. Before the drilling begins the wasp walks methodically up and down the tree, “feeling” with her antenna to sense the presence of the host horntail larva buried below the surface. Once a host larva has been detected she raises her tail and brings the ovipositor into position. At the beginning and end of the drilling process the last segments of the tail hinge open and a flexible membrane is inflated between them, (this is the white moon-shaped structure in the photo). This is used to manipulate the ovipositer as it enters and leaves the wood. The photo here is at the end of the laying process, the wasp is using her abdominal disc to withdraw the ovipositor from the wood.

Once the green outer hull is gone, you continue spinning the pecan as you work on removing the soft shell.

Fox Squirrel (Sciurus niger)

My photos can also be found at kapturedbykala.com

We're here visiting Lego without limits

I spent many hours waiting for low tide in the heat but it was worth it! Apparently five fledglings had left the nest a few days before but we only spotted two. First green heron for me and it was co-operative!

 

'These rather uncommon birds hunt for fish and other small aquatic creatures in dense marshes and along sheltered shorelines. They are slow, methodical hunters and therefore quite secretive. Green herons are superb stalkers who hunt around the clock. Adults are about 43cm (17") in size.'

 

Thanks for the visits!

(Asio otus) Thomson Marsh, Kelowna, BC.

 

Long-eared Owls are secretive, nocturnal, and superbly camouflaged. One good way to find them is to listen at night in spring and summer for their long, low hoots. During winter these owls often roost in large numbers, and this can make them easier to find. Methodically search pine stands or shelterbelts near grassland or pasture for roosting owls, often close to the tree trunk among dense branches. Also look along the ground for pellets (gray, roughly oval cylinders of regurgitated fur, feathers, and bone). If you find a large number of these, you may be under a roost tree. Long-eared Owl pellets are typically 2-3” long, while pellets of other owls found in such situations are either larger and less elongate (Great Horned Owl) or smaller and rounder (Northern Saw-whet Owl).

The Brickset Huwbots. While Red and Yellow are calm and methodical, happy to keep things running smoothly, Green is erratic, unhinged and obsessed with Clickits.

A Norfolk Southern doublestack intermodal train rounds the curve at Mapleton on January 29, 2019. The signal bridge here is living on borrowed time as NS is methodically removing lineside automatic signals leaving only a signal box in their place as can be seen to the right of the train next to the signal bridge. In cab PTC screens will display what indication the trains will receive at this and other locations along the Pittsburgh Line. Kodak Ektachrome E100. Nikon FM2n, 50mm f1.2 Nikkor lens.

Black-headed Cuckooshrike (Lalage melanoptera) is about 20 cm. Male has grey plumage; black head, wings, tail, the latter white-tipped, except on middle feathers; pale grey below breast, whiter on abdomen, vent. Females are brown plumage; whitish-buff below barred dark-brown till abdomen; lacks black head. Solitary or in pairs, only occasionally several together; often part of mixed-hunting bands; keep for most part to leafy, upper branches, probes the foliage for insects; methodically checks foliage before flying off.

This is a detail (mainly of dirt) in the foreground of the previously posted painting "Beacon ('Bless the bastard')"

 

A recent question regarding how I painted the dirt in this painting led me to thinking about the complex phenomena of a painting's surface. Tempera (to be precise, egg /oil emulsion in my case) is a very methodical technique that can lead to a kind of painted surface that speaks the phenomena of "control". In some ways it is fair to say that I taught myself how to paint with tempera, but I read everything I could find about the technique. The artist Robert Vickery wrote a book about tempera that included an explanation of how he would start painting a surface like dirt. He would use a sponge or spatter the paint and then work into that uncontrolled looking surface. By introducing that sort of chaotic start he was able to produce a surface that felt more natural. That said his paintings generally still ended up feeling pretty controlled: As did mine. Eventually (after sixteen years) I moved from tempera to matte acrylic which allowed me to use a similar fast build-up of (usually many) layers, but also employ reductive practices like sanding as a way of "losing control". Maybe this is all too obtuse, but I do think that how a painting is made is central to it's meaning.

 

Incidentally, I also recently added some text to the previously posted image of the entire painting: click here.

My father, Bert, was born on January 12th, in 1919, to Florence and Levi Martin, a farm worker, at White Cottages, Whitton, Suffolk. One of six children, he was a cub, scout, and server at church. Aged 13, he won a crossword competition and spent his prize money on a puppy.

 

He met May at Claydon High School and they married in 1941. Already conscripted, he wore his uniform for the wedding service. Four months later he was sent to war on the troopship, the Rangitiki.

 

Captured at Tobruk, he spent 3 years as a PoW, in camps in N Africa, Italy and Germany. He was among PoWs sent in by the Germans to “clear up the mess” after the firebombing of Dresden.

 

He went on the run in Czechoslovakia in the final stages of the war, eventually being liberated by the US Third Army.

 

He arrived home to his wife at their cottage in Paper Mill Lane, Claydon on May 25th, 1945. My parents enjoyed 45 years of marriage; my sister and I were born in 1946 and 1950.

 

Bert always lived in his native Suffolk. He worked first as a printer's apprentice and then as an estimator for a local firm, British Steel Piling.

 

He loved his garden, photography, and music, playing trumpet and harmonica, baking, and supporting the local Football Club.

 

I remember him as a calm person with a sense of humour and fair play. He was also a methodical and meticulous person in everything he did, this very much evidenced in the diary he kept during his wartime service.

 

He died in 1998, aged 79, his wish to publish his diary unfulfilled; at last in 2017, it gave me great satisfaction and a sense of pride to achieve its publication.

 

The original handwritten diary is lodged with the Second World War Experience Centre, for posterity and research purposes.

  

Listen to Bert's interview by IWM in their sound archive:

www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/80005150

Find 23 reviews on Amazon of Bert's mémoirs in book/kindle format:

www.amazon.co.uk/Till-We-Meet-Again-Gunner/dp/154404870X

Kamera: Olympus Pen D3

Linse: F.Zuiko f1.7 / 32mm

Film: Kodak 5222 @ ISO 400

Kjemi: Fomadon Excel (stock / 25 min. @ 20°C)

 

UN PRC: Civil Society's Legal Push Against War in Palestine (Publ. 23 May 2025) [***Great speeches by Shir Hever and Jake Romm***]

 

Lima, Peru - 23 May 2025:

 

In a landmark development for international justice, the Republic of Peru has formally opened a criminal investigation against an Israeli national accused of participating in the genocide in Gaza, following a legal complaint submitted by the Hind Rajab Foundation (HRF).

 

The complaint was filed by Julio César Arbizu González (b. 1974), a prominent Peruvian human rights lawyer and legal counsel to the Foundation.

 

The individual under investigation served as a combat engineering soldier in the Israeli military and is alleged to have played a direct role in the methodical and systematic destruction of civilian neighbourhoods in the Gaza Strip during the 2023–2024 military offensive.

 

The complaint, supported by audiovisual documentation and open-source intelligence, accuses the soldier of engaging in actions that constitute war crimes, crimes against humanity, and acts of genocide.

 

This step by Peruvian authorities is of immense significance in the global pursuit of justice. It is not only an affirmation of Peru’s adherence to the principles of international humanitarian and criminal law, but also a decisive recognition that universal jurisdiction must be exercised—not merely acknowledged—when those responsible for international crimes are found within a state’s territory.

 

Crucially, this case highlights the central role played by the Combat Engineering Corps of the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) in the implementation of Israel’s genocidal campaign against the Palestinian population of Gaza. Far from being a support unit, the Engineering Corps has acted as a core operational arm of destruction, systematically reducing civilian areas to rubble, erasing entire communities, and rendering large swathes of Gaza uninhabitable. This unit, through its actions, has become one of the primary mechanisms of the genocidal machine.

 

In response, the Hind Rajab Foundation has undertaken a comprehensive legal offensive targeting this formation. To date, the Foundation has prepared hundreds of individual case files against members of the Combat Engineering Corps. These cases are being progressively submitted before competent national jurisdictions in countries across multiple continents, with more filings to follow in the weeks and months ahead.

 

The opening of this investigation in Peru demonstrates that the HRF’s legal actions against travelling Israeli soldiers are not symbolic gestures—they yield tangible legal consequences. It is a powerful precedent, affirming that no perpetrator of atrocity crimes should feel shielded by distance or diplomatic complacency.

 

The Hind Rajab Foundation calls upon all states—particularly those that are parties to the Geneva Conventions and the Rome Statute—to follow Peru’s example by initiating proceedings against individuals implicated in the Gaza genocide who may enter their jurisdictions.

 

“Justice is not optional. Justice is imperative,” said Dyab Abou Jahjah (b. 1971), Chairman of the Hind Rajab Foundation. “This investigation marks a decisive step in the dismantling of Israeli impunity" he added.

 

The Hind Rajab Foundation will continue to pursue all responsible individuals—wherever they are, and for as long as it takes—because only justice can lay the foundation for lasting peace and human dignity in Palestine and beyond.

  

- Source: Hind Rajab Foundation -

Peru Opens Criminal Investigation into Israeli War Crimes Following Complaint by the Hind Rajab Foundation (Publ. 23 May 2025)

Raincheck

  

Entice a Thief Revisited

 

The Raincheck

 

One late summer evening Heather and Ginny were at the Poet & Peasant pub watching Merrick and me throwing darts with some lads from another pub’s team.

 

Ginny turned to Heather to ask if she was looking forward to her upcoming birthday weekend? Heather’s birthday proper being on Sunday.

 

Heather sighed…

 

“Merrick told me yesterday that he is going out of town on business Saturday, returning late Sunday.”

 

Ginny took Heather’s hand while saying cheerfully…

 

“That is a shame Luv, we can do something nice together with you. Maybe we can get dressed up and do the clubs.”

 

Ginny began thoughtfully fingered a ring Heather was wearing…

 

“Tell you what Lass, I’ll let you wear that bracelet of mine that you like.”

 

Heather, already happy with the idea of going out clubbing, perked right up at the mention of Ginny lending her the pretty rhinestone bracelet.

 

It was one of two pieces of rhinestone jewelry that Ginny owned that were spot-on imitations of actual jewelled pieces worn by royalty. It was always fun when someone would be admiring one of the pieces and then erroneously ask if it was real.

 

Ginny, still fingering Heather’s pretty ring gave a little jump, nodding towards Merrill and me…

 

“Remember the theatre re-opening, and what you had the lads doing?”

 

Heather grew silent and distant as she became lost in thought, then a wicked smile crept over her face as she turned towards Ginny…

 

“That’s right. We had them pretend to be thieves after the jewellery we were wearing. That was a bit of fun. Especially what Merrick and I played at later back at home...”

 

With the mention of her husband Merrick, Heather grew silent, the sparkle in her eyes fading away.

 

Ginny pulled Heather in a hug...

 

“Oh darling, it will be all right, make it fun for You. Wasn't there something said about a rain check ?”

 

Heather sat up, the sparkle again on her blue eyes, her Scottish birth accent becoming more prevalent...

 

“Jingse Ginny lass, I did ask your husband for that, teasing him, I was, for not lifting my jewellery like he was yours. What kind of thief worth his salt was he that night?”

 

Then Heather asked, a bit worried...

 

“Was he alright with that? It was probably a wee bit too bold of me?“

 

Ginny laughed, throwing her head towards me. As I, oblivious to the attention, was lining up a shot...

 

“Nothing is too bold for that one! If you are interested in that, we can even make a part of your birthday weekend. It’ll be no problem getting my husband on board with the notion. Game on Luv?”

 

Heather nodded her head, one could see in her eyes that it would be fun, though maybe not as much without her Merrick...

 

Heather looked at Ginny, asking...

 

“Have him again be the thief you are ‘reforming’ I liked that bit of his story.”

 

Ginny again took up Heather’s hand, playing with her ring, looking over at Merrick and me... Changing her tone of voice as she said...

 

“Darling, you must come and meet my latest undertaking. Let’s do lunch on Saturday, I'll have him toddle over and meet you all...”

 

£££££££££££££££££

 

The Restaurant

 

So that is how on the following Saturday found me dressed in black slacks, a brown tweed suit jacket over a black turtleneck.

 

I came to be sitting at the bar of a downtown restaurant. Next to me was a bearded gent wearing cargo pants and a polo shirt, with blue-tinted sunglasses. He was one of those sociable chaps that have a way with conversations.

 

I was halfway through my pint when the girls came in. Heather, my twin sister Cadence, and wife Ginny, all very prettied up.

 

My bar mate and I watched with interest as they swished their way and selected a table for four by the window.

 

I observed them settle while finishing off my pint of local ale. Then, taking my leave, I rose and headed towards them.

 

Ginny had been watching me, and as I came near called me over, totally in her character’s mode. Which was that of a bored wealthy socialite whose obligation she felt was to rescue men who dwelt within the rougher edges of society.

 

Currently, I was her latest project. A charming character whose living had been made stealing the jewels of ladies in Ginny’s character’s sphere of wealthy friends. Cade and Heather were two new friends of her’s that I was meeting for the first time.

 

“Darling, what a surprise,come and join us will you?”

 

I happily went over and She reached up pecking me on the cheek.

 

I took the jewelled fingers of the hand Ginny offered me, kissed the back as I eyed her over.

 

Ginny was wearing her long silk dress with verticle gold and cream white stripes. The dress’s high neckline has a ruffle made of the same material and pattern hanging down. She was wearing her set of diamond pearl earrings, a thin rhinestone bracelet, and a collection of five gemstone rings.

 

Ginny introduced her friends.

 

As I in turn took a hand of each of the ladies I and kissed it, while doing a careful study of each in turn...

 

Cade was wearing a gold sleeveless satin blouse and(a too) short leather skirt. She was wearing a necklace made up of a row of matched rhinestone diamonds along its length. She was wearing drop diamond rhinestone earrings, a bracelet that matched her necklace, and a large ruby diamond cocktail ring on her left index finger, the one I was kissing.

 

Broadly smiling, blue eyes twinkling, Heather, squirming in her seat for her chance to meet me, was cute in her long black skirt, silver lamee' top with a black velvet blazer. A rhinestone jewelled piece shaped like a bluebird was pinned to the jacket's left lapel.

She was wearing her diamond heart-shaped pendant, silver Sapphire earrings, sapphire bracelet, and 3 sapphire set rings.

 

I tickled Heather’s palm as I kissed her ringed fingers, then took my seat.

 

We ordered and ate our lunch while acting both in and out of character.

 

Heather asked me, as the girls were drinking cocktails, if I found it hard to give up my old ways?

 

I answered in character, as I reached over and fingered her broach.

 

“It was at first. I would find it very hard to pass up acquiring pretty jewels like this. It was especially exciting if the lady wearing them was pretty also, like you.”

 

Soon-to-be birthday girl Heather blushed very vexingly at that compliment.

 

Cadence asked...

 

“How did you ever get over it?”

 

I answered in character. looking from her, over at Ginny...

 

“Ginny helped me immensely. She started by having discussions with me as she wore her best stuff. We would discuss the allure jewels had over me, but though I was allowed to admire, taking was wrong and I needed to be able to admit that.”

 

Ginny added in...

“Yes, it was a tough slog. I even lost a ring and my diamond pin before convincing him to give up his ways. And you did darling...”

 

She squoze my fingers as she said this, I smiled, then answered.

 

“Yes, I did. It was once you started taking me to those parties where your friends were wearing really lovely jewels that I began finding my resistance. “

 

I looked at both Cadence and Heather as I continued on...

 

“It really helps me when the ladies are wearing their best, my feelings are tested to the limit and I feel do so much better after resisting such temptations. I honestly cannot tell you how it makes me feel.”

 

Ginny, taking my hand and grasping it so her rings dug in, looking me in the face, said cheerfully...

 

“I know, let us throw a ‘Happy rehabilitation, welcome back to society party’ for you this evening. I'll have my cook do dinner and we can dance to music on the back stone patio.”

 

£££££££££££££££££

 

The Rehabilitation Party

  

The party was taking place inside the old stone cottage in the woods I had inherited from a great uncle. Actually Cade is reading this bit over my shoulder and gently reminded me it was left to the two of us. Which it was, and technically still is half hers.

 

So that evening found the cook(me) in the kitchen making beef bone marrow dumpling soup and whipping up a corned beef cottage pie.

 

Cadence and Heather had already come over bringing their evening gowns. All three were in my den getting ready. The girls were going to wear rhinestones from Ginny’s ‘Play’ collection. Which mostly all were modified in some form to be easily removed.

 

I was excited to see the end result, and the not so reformed as he may seem, thief I was portraying, saw no disappointments:

 

I had changed into my tux and got a close look as I seated my three fellow role players.

 

Ginny was enticingly wearing a very sleek brown satin off one-shoulder gown.

 

Her jewels were a sparkling collection that consisted of a wide V-shaped necklace that looked like a falling river of jewels, amazingly sparkling chandelier earrings, a rhinestone bracelet with 3 rows of diamond stones, and several enticing rings.

 

But the real showpiece this time was the eye-grabbing broach she had pinned to the gown just at her waistband. It had a sparrow egg-sized diamond at its centre surrounded by 3 rows of smaller diamonds. The top and bottom three stones of the third row were pear-shaped 5-carat diamonds. It looked like something from the royal jewels in the tower of London, which indeed it was patterned after a jewelled piece worth a cool £2 million.

 

Ginny had worn this piece on a gown several times now and it had always garnered a great deal of compliments and notice, with some actually thinking the piece was genuine. This always puts me on my guard when Ginny wears it out in public.

 

Actually, One night after we returned home, Ginny playfully asked me if I ever had suspicions that any of that attention she received over her broach be from someone with thievery on their mind? Not realizing she was only joking, I believe that I surprised her to the core when I quickly shook my head in a positive yes. She was definitely shocked by the seriousness I had in my eyes as I did. And she had a real eye-opener as I explained myself.

 

But that is another story in itself I Intend to title:

‘The Great Ice Ripoff’

 

To be told another time….

 

But now back to this story...

 

Cadence was looking very cute wearing an ultra-smooth spaghetti strap silk gown with a leopard spot pattern. Freshly washed hair lad down her shoulders with long, old-fashioned hinge clasp, cascading diamond rhinestone earrings peaking out. Around her throat, she had hung a rhinestone diamond necklace with a lace-like pattern consisting of round and teardrop-shaped stones. Around her left wrist was clasped her handsome diamond bracelet that was the twin of the one my Ginny owned. Cadence had given Ginny the matching bracelet as a gift, after buying this one for herself. A pair of large cocktail rings glittered from each hand.

 

Heather, happily anticipating the game this evening, poured her petite figure into her favorite gown. A repurposed bridesmaid A-line taffeta gown of shiny sapphire blue with short white satin gloves and silver sandals. She wore a dazzling necklace of blue sapphire stones surrounded by diamonds. A large center stone dangled just above her snugly held cleavage with a series of smaller stones going up either side of the silver chain. The earrings she wore matched her necklace. And as promised, she was wearing Ginny’s fancy diamond bracelet, the one matching Cadence’s. Her fingers sported a brace of matching blue sapphire cocktail rings that just dazzled like the rest of her jewels. A leaf-shaped brooch and rhinestone tiara finished the effect with a rich sparkling allure…

 

£££££££££££££££££

 

Ambiance before Pleasure

 

We had supper in the dining room.

 

I had replaced the three standard bulbs of the light hanging over the table with ones that flickered, for ambiance.

 

At supper I play my role answering their questions:

 

“Have I ever burgled a room with the victim sleeping?”

 

Yes on several occasions. Sometimes they were wearing the very jewels I was after as they slept. Which offered a nice bit of a challenge.

 

“Do I regret not being a thief anymore?”

 

No, thanks to the efforts of Ginny and wonderful ladies like yourselves who are so willing to help me with my rehabilitation efforts, especially this party you are having for me. Just seeing you all here like this chokes me up… I have learned to give up my old ways of burgling lady's bedrooms...”

 

That made them all smile broadly, their jewels twinkling…

 

“We are all so happy you feel that way.”

 

I watch as they all nod their heads, jewels flickering and glittering in the dimly lit room as I answer…

 

Thank you all for making me what I am tonight. This is a lovely party and I feel so honored to be here amongst all you lovely ladies. Honestly cannot wait to party with you all this evening. And come away with some more of your sweet generosity.

 

I helped my ladies up from their chairs and they swept out to the back patio.

 

I then put on an apron and cleaned up and before joining them.

 

So many roles I was to play this evening…

 

£££££££££££££££££

 

Yet Another Role, Thief.

 

The back patio is lit by strings of small lanterns that run the length, about 1.5 meters above, the brick wall which encircled an area of about 30 meters by 15 meters with a flagged stone floor. The Bricks came from an old ruin of unknown age or origin. Saved from the dump by my great uncle some eighty years ago as they tore most of it down for a roundabout. Leaving part of a ruined tower in the centre.

 

At the house, end is a bar with 4 stools

Just off that is our patio table with its six chairs. The rest of the patio is opened with a small fire pit at the far end. It was this open area where the dancing would be.

 

I had speakers at each end of the bar with the stereo system located in the back glass atrium room. We had soft mood music playing in the background.

 

I found that the jewel-laden girls were huddled at the edge of the wall by the antique wrought iron gate that lets out on the roadside.

 

Across the road is a small patch of woods, an ancient ruined stone structure, and the old cemetery where the grand estate, still some 3 kilometers away, buried their ancestors. The estate is a private university now.

 

I asked the girls if they wanted some drinks, to come up to the bar.

 

All three came swishing over.

 

I seated birthday girl Heather first in one of the middle seats.

 

I seated Ginny next to her. As I did I placed my hands on either side of her waist, as she squiggled herself in, I unpinned then lifted off her broach. Heather saw me as I pocketed it and I winked at her…

 

I seated Cadence on the other side of Heather who was watching me like a hawk. But like Heather, I did not lighten Cade’s jewellery load…yet.

 

I make it a point to bump into Heather as I went around to the bar, amusing myself as she took a quick inventory.

 

I took the orders and mixed up several strong cocktails for the girls and an Irish whiskey neat for myself. We chatted through the first round and we’re well into the second when Ginny, taking what can be fest described as a coy sip of her drink asked me….

 

“So lad, how does it feel to be trusted by society now?”

 

Cadence piped in…

 

“Yes, how does it feel to not steal the jewels of sleeping ladies?

 

I just smiled at each of them…Cadence, elbows on the table, had her face cupped in her hands, earrings swaying in a frenzied sparkle as she listened intently…

 

“Stealing jewellery from sleeping ladies is the furthest thought from my mind this evening... It is my personal thrill to be allowed the opportunity to be here tonight amongst you lovely ladies. That said…Is anyone up for a dance? Cadence?”

 

“I would love to dance with you” sweetly said, my sister.

 

We both rose with an arm around her silken waist I guided her giggling figure to the dance floor.

  

We faced each other as we danced, my hands at her waist as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

 

I looked down at her figure and the appealing leopard-skin patterned silk gown she was wearing.

 

I remember the first time she had shown it off to Ginny and me... I had not been comfortable with my sister looking so sexy wearing it. Later my wife Ginny lectured me about being such a prude. I guess that it was Ginny’s suggestion for Cade to wear it tonight.

 

I could see her dazzling bracelet wrapped around her wrist and the thief I was playing, licked his lips in anticipation.

 

Even though I had lifted her bracelet before, this was not my thief character's objective.

 

For he had loftier goals. A pair of them actually...

 

Through my thief's eyes, as I had been studying the jewels being worn by the females I was sitting with, I noticed Cadence’s long diamond earrings were of the old-fashioned hinged clasp type. And as such tended to slip down a. Girls earlobe with very little effort. He had already observed with interest, Cadence absent-mindedly adjust them once after she had been laughing at something he had said.

 

Cadence had been shyly quiet as we danced. It was time for my thief to begin his approach

 

“I am very glad to have met you this evening Cadence. I just wanted to confide in you that I think you are by far the prettiest lady at our table. “

 

Cadence blushed deeply, then giggled as she shook her head in denial of my compliment.

 

I continued...

 

“When you laugh like that you look like the Actress Natalie Wood.”

 

Again she laughed, shaking her head vigorously in embarrassing denial.

 

I saw with satisfaction that this last reaction to my words had achieved my deceitful purpose, for both of her heavily long diamond earrings had noticeably slipped down and we're now hanging precariously about 1/4 further down her ears lobes.

 

I needed to act quickly...

 

“It's the truth My Cadence, just now when you laughed you looked like the spitting image of Natale in her last movie, do you remember seeing it?”

 

Again she shook her head, blushing.

 

I removed my hands from her waist and running my fingers up on either side of her face, lifting her soft reddish hair away from her head as I said...

“ She wore her hair up for the movie. Like this. Indeed you are the spitting image. “

 

She blushed again, closing her eyes in total satisfaction as she whispered...

 

“Thank you my kind sir, you are far too charming ...”

 

Tightening her grip around my neck, as she spoke, Cadence hugged warmly against me so tightly I could feel her heart beating rapidly.

 

As she did, I let her silky feeling hair back down. My fingers curled around her diamond earrings and slipped them both free as her hair settled back against her ears covering up my deed.

 

My hands dropped down, the knuckles of my closed fists running along the leopard patterned shiny gown, then depositing the purloined diamonds into my pockets. I did all this and replaced my hands upon her smooth waist before we had swayed no more than 6 beats as both sets of our eyes had remained locked on the others.

 

I turned Cadence around and looked over her shoulder, happily seeing Heather’s gobsmacked expression over what the thief had now accomplished.

 

Ginny was sitting next to her also watching. I saw her necklace sparkling along its entire length as she thoughtfully played with it.

 

I smiled at her. My thief had chosen his next target. Or had the target been chosen by its female wearer?

 

The song ended and I escorted Cadence back to her seat. As I thank her for the dance I took her hand and kissed it. As I did I fiendishly managed to slip off one of her rings. Making sure wide-eyed Heather sees me.

 

Heather can now hardly contain herself.

 

But I passed her going up to Ginny who looked up at me with a knowing smile as I extended my hand to her...

 

“Would you do me the honour, my lady?”

 

She took it, rose from her seat, her luxurious gown falling to her ankles.

 

Still holding her hand I led her out to the dance floor, slipped my free hand around her waistline, and as she did the same, we began to sway to the music.

 

Looking lovingly in my eyes Ginny thanked me.

 

“That was so sweet of you to dance with Cadence. She really seemed to like it..”

 

I replied, thinking of the long glittering earrings she had been wearing, that was now in my pockets.

 

“It is my pleasure. Was a quite an enjoyable experience... Cadence seems to be such a generous, giving soul.”

 

Ginny agreed with a giggle...

 

“Yes she is a giving soul., as I like to think I am?”

 

I locked my gaze into her eyes...

 

“Oh, I know you are, and will continue to be very giving...”

 

She liked that immensely...

 

Meanwhile, I was thinking to myself...

 

“And speaking of giving, and earrings... “

 

I gave a renewed study to the ones my current partner was so willingly wearing. I smiled into Ginny’s eyes, as I lifted her hair for a better look. They were worth that look, but her diamond necklace was by far the greater prize.

 

I gently let my Wife’s ginger hair back down, smiling that I had just given the observing Heather a bit of a thrill.

 

As I swayed and swished Ginny in circle to the music I felt like a wily fox who had snuck in with the hens.

 

Making me coo in my dance partner's diamond-holding ear as my fingers took a well-known path up the backside of her scintillating brown coloured gown...

 

“Thank you for throwing this brilliant party for me, and having your delightfully enchanting friends join in for the fun...”

 

Ginny liked that and lifted her head, throwing back her hair, giving full exposure of her shimmering necklace, whose jewelled clasp I had now managed to flick open.

 

Ginny smiled, pretending not to notice her necklace being lifted, said...

 

“I am so glad you have given up your wicked ways. I do feel so very safe around you now...”

 

I meanwhile had slipped the necklace up and around her throat, letting it dangle from the hand I had moved back down to her waistline as I murmured...

 

“ I am so glad I have you feeling that way. It makes my rehabilitation ‘efforts’ so much simpler and easy!”

 

I was pocketing her necklace as I said this. Letting the jewelled piece join the diamond earrings, gemmed broach, and diamond cocktail ring I had already collected from my gullible hostess and unsuspecting Cadence.

 

We finished the dance and I led a now laughing Ginny back to her chair at the bar.

 

“My turn!” Heather squeals, slipping off her stool and happily plopping to the floor.

 

I grandly lead Heather onto the dance floor.

 

Taking her squirming warm figure up, I lose no time asking her if she would like to hear a story of my exploits when I was a thief?

 

She nods her head, her eyes hold an enchanting look from deep within.

 

“Well, it was at a party not unlike this one. There was a lady there wearing several pieces of jewellery that I greatly desired. We were dancing like this and…”

 

Heather, hanging on every word of my story, said as I paused…

 

“Don’t stop, what happened next!

 

I looked down into her eager face and continued my silence for a few seconds stringing her along as we danced...

 

Finally, after the effects of my pregnant pause had the desired effect, I whispered...

 

“Would you like to do a reenactment? I had her sneak out and meet me alone...?”

 

Without hesitation, Heather took the bait as soon as I finished...

 

“Let us end the dance, have another drink, then you go inside to the loo. But sneak out. Remember across the street where I showed you and Merrick the stone ruins by the cemetery?”

 

Heather nodded, tipsy enough to agree without any reservations.

 

I smiled, lifting her necklace...

 

” I'll go first and meet you there. We will do a secret rendezvous. At the ruins, I will tell you the story about the mischief my”prereformed” thief was up to...”

 

She giggled happily as I swept her around the dance area.

 

Finishing up I escorted her back and went behind the bar and mixed up another round of drinks.

 

Cadence, who had been inside, now re-emerged nodding to me with a secret smile.

 

I served the drinks...the ball was in Heather’s play.

 

Heather gave away nothing. Unhurriedly sipping her drink as we all made small talk.

 

Then as a lull in the conversation occurred, I heard a small cough from Heather.

 

As I looked over she winked and sliding off her stool excused herself, then went inside the cottage.

 

£££££££££££££££££

 

The Game Continued...

 

Heather's point of view after leaving the cottage...

 

Heather walked out of the front door and went to the edge of the road allowing her eyes to adjust to the light.

 

She easily spotted the well-marked path on the opposite side.

 

Lifting the hem of her alluring gown she scurried across the road.

 

Reaching the path, Heather looked back at the cottage. The music had changed to a song with a quick tempo. Cadence and Ginny we're out on the floor each dancing alone to the beat, bumping against each other from time to time. The bar was out of her view, but she assumed I was no longer there and waiting for her arrival.

 

With a secret smile, Heather turned away and disappeared into the dark woods.

  

£££££££££££££££££

 

The rude and the glorious...

 

Heather purposefully swished along the moonlit path. Quite soon she spotted, through the trees, the clearing ahead where the ruins of an old tower-like structure are located on the far end.

 

The crumbling tower overlooks the thin woodline that runs along the west and north boundaries of the old now unused cemetery. Then some more woods are on the opposite eastern side of the cemetery, eventually coming out to the backyards of a few big houses where the wealthier of the area citizens have laid down their roots. The road( Abbot’s Chase Lane) that those houses were built leads up north to the university.

 

Heather, expecting that I was already in position, slipped into the clearing and with heightened expectations, made her way to the ruined tower standing black against the trees.

 

She reached the tower, and as she waited realized how quiet it was all around her.

 

She had slowly been circling the tower when she spied a figure weaving its way towards her through the cemetery.

 

She waved, calling out to it.

 

The figure stopped and looked over to her, then looked her over, before moving in close.

 

It was unmistakably a male. Wearing dark trousers, a black turtleneck, and a full-faced nylon ski mask, and with thin brown leather gloves over his hands. Knowing I owned such a mask( several tales there). Heather wasn't worried as the figure came to her through the woods.

 

The figure stopped as his eyes now saw her clearly.

 

Heather walked up to him, and as she started to speak, he placed a finger to his lips, then transferred it to her red lips.

 

Then, as his other hand raised like he was expecting to be handed something, his finger left her lips and going along her chin, reached up and lifted the end of a dangling earring. As he looked it over, his other hand’s fingers moved in a beckoning manner.

 

Taking the hint Heather, with a delicious shiver, removed each of her earrings in turn, laying them across his open palm.

 

As she laid down the second earring, the thief delicately took her white satin gloved fingers in his leather-gloved hand, holding up her wrist his eyes free wide while studying the richly sparkling fancy diamond bracelet she wore.

 

He nodded, letting go of her fingers...

 

Heather removed the bracket, and delicately raised it, shimmering, then laid it on his palm covering her earrings.

 

Then, with no further prompting from the masked figure looming over her, Heather methodically began removing her rings, leaf-shaped broach, and the rhinestone tiara, placing them onto his palm.

 

He had stood still she did so, not moving until Heather started to remove her last piece of jewellery, the sparkly necklace from around her throat.

 

He stopped her with a shake of his head no, them placing the pile of jewellery he had been holding into a leather satchel at his side (again recognizing it like one I owned) he ran a gloved hand along her luxurious gown, before turning and walking back into treeline towards the cemetery.

 

Heather was standing stone still, watching him. She saw him stop, then turn towards her. With a dismissing wave, he motioned her to turn and leave.

 

Heather did so without looking back. She walked with an almost pollyannaish cheerfulness across the open field.

 

Then she suddenly froze in step...

 

She gave a small gasp upon seeing me emerge from the woods in front of her, still wearing the same tux...

 

With a puzzled expression, her eyes bugging out, Heather stared at me, not saying a word. Then she slowly turned and looked back past the tower.

 

£££££££££££££££££

 

A Prodigal Son.

 

I walked up to Heather, touching her on the shoulder. She jumped and turned to face me with a look of shock on her face

As I asked her...

 

“Sorry, I'm late Luv... But you look like you've seen a ghost?”

 

Heather finally found her voice...

 

“I...I thought it was you? He was wearing a mask, had me hand over my...I mean Ginny’s jewellery. Except for the necklace? Passed on that. But if it wasn't you? Was I...I just robbed??”

 

I looked at her reassuringly, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and we began to walk back.

 

“Let us get back to the others, make sure they are ok. No worries, what you were wearing was costume jewels, if the bugger was a real thief, he is not a very good one.”

 

We crossed the road and walked along over to the gate and entered the patio.

 

Ginny and Cadence were sitting at the bar, both turned as we came in. There was a person behind the bar. A male figure, face in the shadows, wearing a tan jacket and black turtleneck.

 

Heather froze in step, not sure what to do, as the figure moved from behind the bar.

 

Then Heather let out a loud squeal of excitement...

 

“Merrick!

 

She screamed with a shout her husband’s name and running, delightfully flung herself in his waiting arms.

 

£££££££££££££££££

 

A thief takes His Curtain Call

 

This whole affair had been envisioned for a rather unique birthday present for Heather.

 

Based on the remark she had once made asking me for a rain check after seeing me steal the necklace Ginny was wearing and was teasing me why I hadn't taken hers also?

 

It had all been wanna-be director Ginny and caper loving Merrick’s idea to use that remark to set this all up, like a play complete with acts. Starting at the pub on Friday, and ending with me finding her after Merrick, dressed as a burglar, took her jewels.

 

Cadence was pulled into the plot as a distraction, a not-so-red herring, and behind the scenes helper to avoid making Heather suspicious.

 

Merrick had told Heather a fib about having to work on her Birthday weekend.

 

Merrick had been my mate at the bar for lunch. Wearing a false beard Ginny had applied and sunglasses, he had a front-row seat for that affair.

 

He had clandestinely let himself into the cottage this evening as we were out back on the patio. As Heather and I danced, Cadence had met him inside, giving him something to eat before he took my satchel and mask, then headed off into the Woods.

 

Cadence had come back out to signal me the coast was clear.

 

It all had worked like a charm.

 

After the reunion and the explanations, we all settled in around the patio table to enjoy the evening. Drinks were served, mood music put on, and dancing under the stars resumed.

 

Towards the end of the evening, I was slow dancing with Cadence, and Merrick was with Heather.

 

Cadence had been playfully questioning me if I really thought she resembles Natalie Wood. I was telling her I always had, making her close her eyes and blush. I looked down at her now bare throat, then raised my head, looking over her shoulder.

 

I caught Heather’s eye and made a production to look down at the sparkling jeweled sapphire necklace hanging majestically around her throat.

 

Winking, to her I moved Cadence close and had her brush against Merrick. He turned to look and I tapped him on the shoulder.

 

“Change partners?”

 

Merrick let Heather go and I released Cade. Both of us taking our new female partners up in our arms.

 

I whisper in Heather’s ear.

 

“So glad you were able to make this party. But I'm curious, you caught me taking your friend’s jewels, but have said nothing?”

 

She looked up into my eyes smiling secretively...

 

“It was just a relapse I’m sure. Those two can afford to be trimmed a bit. And with me catching you, I know my jewels are safe from you.”

 

I placed my hand to her waist as we swayed to the soothing music.

 

“ Yes, just a relapse that is what it was. And I am so glad you have faith in me, my sweet...So can we make this our secret?

 

As I said this my hand moved up from her waist to the mid backside of her downy soft gown...

 

Heather purred in my ear...

 

“That is why I wore my best out tonight. As a test...And yes our secret. Just don't take anything else from them tonight, please!”

 

As Heather said “test” I moved my hand up to her throat and began to gently finger her necklace’s clasp.

 

“I hope I don't fail the test. For this has been a lovely evening, one I have enjoyed to the fullest...And no worries, their jewels are now safe with me!”

 

Heather sighed happily, laying her head on my shoulder. She was being lulled by the music. I took advantage of her situation as I undid her necklace’s clasp and pulled the heavily jewelled piece away from her throat.

 

I felt her trembling with a delightfully chilling thrill as she felt me removing it from around her throat.

 

The rain check had been honoured...

 

As I pocketed it I whispered in Heather's ear.

 

“I am loving spending this time with you, my dear. Absolutely... Loving this...”

 

She whispered back...looking over my shoulder lovingly at Merrick...

 

“And so am I, very much so indeed!”

 

Fini

Fuji X-Pro1 and XF 35mm f1.4

I never put much effort into mono photography as i love colour images but recently i realised i was hiding behind the impact of colour in many cases. A second hand X-Pro1 has leant itself to an exciting foray into black and white, which i'm now starting to love. It's interesting to go back and apply a traditional, methodical approach to a process you used not appreciate and see how it changes your perspective and skillset over time.

Atrocious Weight Of Sterilization.

 

Scholastici substantiam formula animi vires, signa concreta absurdum gradibus,

facétieux types louables types de gravitation mécanismes significatifs vues philosophiques,

Anfällige stürmische Schmerzen begreifenden Misere Vorrecht Ethik Sophismus Lehren Lügen,

vexations reasons significant evils different representations methodical impractical guides contradicts,

anawsterau cymhleth anorchfygol canfyddiadau canfyddedig gwirioneddau anesboniadwy rhagfarnau llwybrau dadansoddol,

подведение коммуникаций преобладающих желаний запланированный ненадежные меры потеря сознания ошибки,

Ilimitado lições iluminado desimpedido conseqüências conhecimento distinto angustiante compreensão,

πιάσει έγκειται μη παραγωγικές δυνάμεις στιγμιαία θνητό έμπνευση παρασιτική συναισθήματα αφομοίωση της εκπαίδευσης,

assistenza individuale determinare autorità inaccessibili idee sproporzionate tradire rischi sigillato,

概念不毛の因果関係直感不可欠な形式独立したファントムブラインドの追跡.

Steve.D.Hammond.

"Trumpeter Swan Journey" by Patti Deters. I watched this swan swim slowly and methodically for quite a while, always with his head down and occasionally flapping his wings, as shown here. As I looked at the photo, it appears he is heading off on a long journey into the endless waters of a deep, dark, cold ocean. In reality, he is swimming along a river with a few other swans and waterfowl just out of frame. If you like this image, I invite you to please share or see my main image gallery (avian, wildlife, and more) at patti-deters.pixels.com/featured/trumpeter-swan-journey-p....

The Black-throated Blue Warbler (Setophaga caerulescens) is typically a bird of the deep forest, occupying spaces similar to Maleficent. In the spring and fall, however, these beautiful birds can often be seen out in gardens as they migrated north or south. Like Hooded Warblers, they will spend much of their time in the lower reaches of the forest, hunting insects in the understory. They are methodical hunters, combing every shrub in an area--and often ever branch of every shrub--before moving to the next.

This is one of the stairwells inside ESMA. Ordinary. Featureless. But every surface here remembers. Prisoners were marched up and down these steps, blindfolded, beaten, dragged into interrogation rooms. The terror of ESMA was industrial and methodical. No spectacle. No ceremony. Just the cold logic of disappearance. Visiting places like this strips away any lingering illusion that atrocity only happens in dark, distant corners of the world. It happens in bureaucratic buildings, in stairwells like this, with forms signed in triplicate.

This caption should also be understood as an inevitably subjective interpretation as I did not see everything that happened.

 

The police arrest an elderly participant in the protest against the proscription of Palestine Action in London's Parliament Square on 6 September 2025. The protest included many people over the age of sixty. Many protesters chose to lie on the grass in a silent, passive act of civil disobedience.

 

The photograph hopefully captures the methodical police response to this quiet defiance. It reflects the core of the day's events: a cross-section of society risking arrest under terror laws to express their opposition to both the government's crackdown on freedom of speech and the ongoing genocide in Gaza.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Protest and the Price of Dissent: Palestine Action and the Criminalisation of Conscience

 

Parliament Square on Saturday, 6 September 2025 was a scene of quiet, almost solemn defiance. The air, usually thick with the noise of London traffic and crowds of tourists, was instead filled with a palpable tension, a shared gravity that emanated from the quiet determination of hundreds of protesters, many of them over 60 years old, some sitting on steps or stools and others lying on the grass.

 

They held not professionally printed banners, but handwritten cardboard signs, their messages stark against the historic grandeur of their surroundings. This was not a march of chants and slogans, but a silent vigil of civil disobedience, a deliberate and calculated act of defiance against the state.

 

On that day, my task was to photograph the protest against the proscription of the direct-action group Palestine Action. While not always agreeing entirely with the group’s methods, I could not help but be struck by the profound dedication etched on the faces of the individual protesters.

 

As they sat in silence, contemplating both the horrific gravity of the situation in Gaza and the enormity of the personal risk they were taking — courting arrest under terror laws for holding a simple placard — their expressions took on a quality not dissimilar to what war photographers once called the “thousand-yard stare.” It was a look of weary but deep and determined resolve, a silent testament to their readiness to face life-changing prosecution in the name of a principle.

 

This scene poses a profound and unsettling question for modern Britain. How did the United Kingdom, a nation that prides itself on its democratic traditions and the right to protest, arrive at a point where hundreds of its citizens — clergy, doctors, veterans, and the elderly — could be arrested under counter-terrorism legislation for an act of silent, peaceful protest?

 

The events of that September afternoon were the culmination of a complex and contentious series of developments, but their significance extends far beyond a single organisation or demonstration. The proscription of Palestine Action has become a critical juncture in the nation’s relationship with dissent, a test of the elasticity of free expression, and a stark examination of its obligations under international law in the face of Israel deliberately engineering a catastrophic humanitarian crisis in Gaza.

 

To understand what is at stake, one must unravel the threads that led to that moment: the identity of the movement, the state’s legal machinery of proscription, the confrontation in Parliament Square, and the political context that compelled so many to risk their liberty.

 

Direct Action and the State’s Response

 

Palestine Action, established in 2020, has never hidden its approach. Unlike traditional lobbying groups, it rejected appeals to political elites in favour of disrupting the physical infrastructure of complicity: factories producing parts for Israeli weapons systems, offices of arms manufacturers, and — eventually — military installations themselves.

 

Its tactics, while non-violent, were disruptive and confrontational. Red paint sprayed across buildings to symbolise blood, occupations that halted production, chains and locks on factory gates. For supporters, these were acts of conscience against a system enabling atrocities in Gaza. For the state, they were criminal disruptions of commerce.

 

That clash escalated steadily. In Oldham, a persistent campaign against Elbit Systems, a key manufacturer in the Israeli arms supply chain, culminated in the company abandoning its Ferranti site. Later actions targeted suppliers for F-35 fighter jets and other arms manufacturers. These were no random acts of mindless vandalism but part of a deliberate strategy: to impose costs high enough that complicity in Israel’s war effort would become unsustainable.

 

The decisive rupture came in June 2025, when activists infiltrated RAF Brize Norton, Britain’s largest airbase, and sprayed red paint into the engines of refuelling aircraft linked to operations over Gaza. For the activists, it was a desperate attempt to interrupt a supply chain of surveillance and logistical support to a state commiting genocide. For the government, it crossed a line: military assets had been attacked. Within days, the Home Secretary announced Palestine Action would be proscribed as a terrorist organisation.

 

Proscription and the Expansion of “Terrorism”

 

Here lies the heart of the controversy. The Terrorism Act 2000 defines terrorism with unusual breadth, encompassing not only threats to life but also “serious damage to property” carried out for political or ideological aims. In this capacious definition, breaking a factory window or disabling a machine can be legally assimilated to mass murder.

 

By invoking this law, the government placed Palestine Action on the same legal footing as al-Qaeda or ISIS. Supporting it — even symbolically — became a serious offence. Since July 2025, merely expressing support for the organization can carry a maximum prison sentence of 14 years.

 

This is based on Section 12 of the Terrorism Act 2000. The specific offense is "recklessly expressing support for a proscribed organisation". However, according to Section 13 of the Act, a lower-level offence for actions like displaying hand held placards in support of a proscribed group carries a maximum sentence of six months imprisonment or a fine of five thousand pounds or both.

 

Civil liberties groups and human rights bodies have denounced the proscription move as disproportionate. Their concern was not primarily whether Palestine Action’s tactics might violate existing criminal law. One might reasonably argue that they did unless they might sometimes be justified in the name of preventing a greater crime.

 

But reframing those actions as “terrorism” represented a dangerous category error. As many pointed out, terrorism has historically referred to violence against civilians. Expanding it to cover property damage risks draining the term of meaning. Worse, it arms the state with a stigma so powerful that it can delegitimise entire political positions without debate.

 

The implications go further. Proscription does not simply criminalise acts. It criminalises expressions of allegiance, conscience and even speech. To say “I support Palestine Action” is no longer an opinion but technically a serious crime. The state has moved from punishing deeds to punishing expressions of solidarity — a move with chilling consequences for democratic life.

 

Parliament Square: Civil Disobedience on Trial

 

It was this transformation that brought nearly 1,500 people into Parliament Square on 6 September. They knew what awaited them. Organisers announced in advance that protesters would hold signs reading: “I oppose genocide. I support Palestine Action.” In doing so, they openly declared their intent to break the law.

 

The crowd was strikingly diverse. Retired doctors, clergy, war veterans, even an 83-year-old Anglican priest. Disabled activists came in wheelchairs; descendants of Holocaust survivors stood beside young students. This was not a hardened cadre of militants but a cross-section of society, many of whom had never before faced arrest.

 

At precisely 1 pm, the protesters all sat or lay down silently, cardboard signs raised. There was no chanting, no aggression — only a quiet insistence that they would not accept the criminalisation of conscience.The police response was equally predictable. Hundreds of officers moved systematically through the crowd, arresting anyone displaying a sign.

 

By the end of the day, nearly 900 people were detained under counter-terrorism law. It was one of the largest mass arrests in modern British history. Official statements later alleged police were met with violence — officers punched, spat on, objects thrown. Yet independent observers, including Amnesty International, contradicted this. They reported a peaceful assembly disrupted by aggressive policing: batons drawn, protesters shoved, some bloodied.

 

www.amnesty.org/zh-hans/documents/eur45/0273/2025/en/

 

Video footage supported at least some of Amnesty's report.

 

www.youtube.com/watch?v=mZQGFrqCf5U&t=1283s

 

The two narratives were irreconcilable, but only one carried the weight and authority of the state.The entire event unfolded as political theatre. The government proscribed a group, thereby creating a new crime. Protesters, convinced the law was unjust, announced their intent to commit that crime peacefully.

 

The police, forewarned, staged a vast operation. Each side acted out its script. The spectacle allowed the state to present itself as defending order against extremism — while in reality silencing dissent.

 

The Humanitarian Context: Why Protesters Risked All

 

To see the Parliament Square protest as a parochial dispute over free speech is to miss its driving force. The demonstrators were not there merely to defend abstract principles. They were responding to what they, and a growing body of international experts, describe as a genocide in Gaza.

 

By September 2025, Gaza had descended into almost total collapse. Over 63,000 Palestinians had been killed, the majority of them women and children. More than 150,000 had been injured, many maimed for life. Entire neighbourhoods had been flattened. Famine was confirmed in August, with Israel continuing to impose and even tighten deliberate restrictions on food, water, and fuel, a strategy condemned by human rights groups as a major war crime. Hospitals lay in ruins. Ninety percent of the population had been displaced.It is in this context that the term genocide has been applied.

 

Legal scholars point not only to mass killings but also to the deliberate infliction of life-destroying conditions, accompanied by rhetoric from Israeli officials dehumanising Palestinians as “human animals.” In September 2025, the International Association of Genocide Scholars declared that Israel’s actions met the legal definition of genocide.

 

www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cde3eyzdr63o

 

Major NGOs, UN experts, and even Israeli human rights groups such as B’Tselem echoed that conclusion.For the protesters, then, the question was not abstract but immediate: faced with what they saw as a genocide, could they in good conscience remain silent while their own government criminalised resistance to it? Their answer was to risk arrest, their placards making the moral connection explicit: opposing genocide meant supporting those who sought to stop it.

 

The Price of Dissent

 

The mass arrests in Parliament Square were not an isolated incident of law enforcement. They were the product of a broader trajectory: escalating tactics by a direct-action movement, a humanitarian catastrophe abroad, and a government determined to suppress dissent at home through the bluntest of instruments.

 

The official line insists that Palestine Action’s campaign constituted terrorism and thus warranted proscription. On this view, the arrests were simple enforcement of the law. Yet this account obscures the deeper reality: a precedent in which the state redefined non-lethal protest as terrorism, shifting from punishing actions to criminalising expressions of solidarity.The cost is profound. Once speech and conscience themselves become suspect, dissent is no longer tolerated but pathologised.

 

The chilling effect is already evident: individuals weigh not just whether to join a protest, but whether uttering support might expose them to years in prison. Terror laws, originally justified as a shield against mass violence, are recast as tools of political management.

 

The protesters understood this. That “thousand-yard stare” captured in their faces was not only the weight of potential arrest, but the knowledge of Gaza’s devastation, the famine and rubble, the deaths mounting daily. It was also the recognition that their own government had chosen to silence them rather than address its complicity.

In a functioning democracy, the question is not why citizens risk arrest for holding a handwritten cardboard sign. It is why a state finds it necessary to treat that act as a terror offence. The answer reveals a narrowing of democratic space, where conscience itself is deemed subversive. And that narrowing, history teaches, carries consequences not just for those arrested, but for the society that allows it.

Kenaston, SK

 

More classic elevators, and this time at sunset as a storm passed over. I got out to take a photo in my usual methodical way (tripod, light reading, etc.) and found myself under attack! There were thousands of mosquitos coming straight for me like darts! Note the sign on first elevator, "Farmers for Justice." Until recently all wheat transactions went through the government wheat board, a monopoly. "Farmers for Justice" was a group fighting for the right to sell wheat anywhere they wanted, and they finally prevailed.

 

I post this image with a shout out to Trevor Sokolan! I hope to some day catch you somewhere and maybe we can chase an elevator or two.

She was methodical in her approach to the field she was hunting in and made walked the same general pattern several times.

It’s nice to once in a while take time out, stepping away from the technology race of megapixels and sharpness and digitised, saturated perfection. The gentle softness of analogue has a quality that no film simulation or Adobe Lightroom tweaking can convincingly emulate. The process of light meter and range finder and manual focus is slow and methodical and there is a pleasure in that for me. Image made at dusk in winter 2023, on a 1950s Voigtlander Perkeo 1 with the standard Vaskar 80mm f4.5 6x6 folder using 120 Kodak e100sw, expired 1998.

www.EdinburghWildlife.com

 

About 100 Waxwings on Coates Crescent this morning, methodically stripping the trees of their berries....

 

(uncropped)

PLEASE, NO invitations or self promotions, THEY WILL BE DELETED. My photos are FREE to use, just give me credit and it would be nice if you let me know, thanks.

 

Museum of Czech Literature, creates and maintains collections, to engage in scientific, cultural, educational, and methodical activities.

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Night tour of Prague started at the Strahov Monastery, one of the oldest Premonstratensian monasteries still in existence in the world.

A sandhill crane (Antigone canadensis) parent and offspring approach a pond for a drink. They mostly forage on land, jabbing the earth in a quest for invertebrate prey (and dislodging lots of divots on golf courses) but periodically go down to water to drink. Another turf-based hunter, a white ibis, rests nearby, undisturbed by the larger birds. This is the smaller of two adults that have been shepherding two colts around the lawns that border a Sarasota shopping mall. Few prairies are left near cities on the Florida peninsula -- but there is no end of mega-residential developments and gated communities with names like "Sandhill Preserve." Sandhill cranes from the Gulf Coast migrate north into the western US and Canada to breed, often staging immense transitory aggregations in places like the braided bed of the Platte River in Nebraska. The disjunct Florida population is mostly nonmigratory (year-round residents), The species is rare in the northeastern states, but isolated pairs are now breeding in places like New Hampshire, perhaps due to vagrants from further west that are pushing the species range eastward. In Sarasota, it isn't uncommon to see cranes methodically working the lawns that border homes or even busy parkways.

Potter Park drive, Sarasota (30 March, 2022)

A View of the Columbia River and Hillsides at Crown Point Vista House. A view captured while on a trip to Oregon and Washington to hike and explore a national park and nearby places I love seeing while in this area. Here I was walking around and exploring the views around the Crown Point Vista House that one Thursday morning. While the thin layer of low clouds and fog didn't allow for a crisp capture of images across this amazing, beautiful and iconic view of the Gorge and river valley, I was able to post process this photo here. What a morning it was! That's the story behind this image I posted here on Flickr (www.flickr.com/photos/14723335@N05/36597031882).

 

Now for the digital painting...the whole of this image was I felt a chance to practice more with one of Kyle's ink style brushes and using broader strokes, while adjusting hues and tones to capture a sense of depth. At first, I was somewhat intimidated by the forest of trees, even erasing a few starts as I didn't seem to capture that feel of forest on sees from overlooks along the Columbia River Gorge. Then I recalled words from a painter friend and videos of Bob Ross and tried again. Voici! I then methodically painted area after area, contrasting as best I could for that visual effect of depth. I also adjusted the brush styles from normal to combined to intermingle colors like one can with a real brush. That came in handy with the grassy meadows, river waters and mountainsides. I found doing that mixing of colors also helped with some imagined clouds, but I first focused on getting certain areas darker or lighter. The darker shade of the skies wasn't planned as I'd been thinking of a sunrise but then turned the day around and went with a sunset and facing east. I felt the darker skies would not only accentuate the clouds, but also draw the eyes back to the areas still caught in sunlight.

 

In the right foreground of the painting, you'll find that stick figure image of me "hiking" with my Cubbies hat, loving my time exploring the Gorge area once again :-)

The Copernicus Sentinel-2 mission takes us over Gangotri, one of the largest glaciers in the Himalayas and one of the main sources of water for the Ganges River.

 

This huge ball of stars — around 100 billion in total — is an elliptical galaxy located some 55 million light-years away from us. Known as Messier 89, this galaxy appears to be perfectly spherical; this is unusual for elliptical galaxies, which tend to be elongated ellipsoids. The apparently spherical nature of Messier 89 could, however, be a trick of perspective, and be caused by its orientation relative to the Earth.

 

Messier 89 is slightly smaller than the Milky Way, but has a few interesting features that stretch far out into the surrounding space. One structure of gas and dust extends up to 150 000 light-years out from the galaxy’s centre, which is known to house a supermassive black hole. Jets of heated particles reach out to 100 000 light-years from the galaxy, suggesting that Messier 89 may have once been far more active — perhaps an active quasar or radio galaxy — than it is now. It is also surrounded by an extensive system of shells and plumes, which may have been caused by past mergers with smaller galaxies — and implies that Messier 89 as we know it may have formed in the relatively recent past.

 

Messier 89 was discovered by astronomer Charles Messier in 1781, when Messier had been cataloguing astronomical objects for 23 years — ever since he mistook a faint object in the sky for Halley’s Comet. Upon closer inspection, he realised the object was actually the Crab Nebula. To prevent other astronomers from making the same error, he decided to catalogue all the bright, deep-sky objects that could potentially be mistaken for comets. His methodical observations of the night sky led to the first comprehensive catalogue of astronomical objects: the Messier catalogue! Messier 89 holds the record for being the last ever giant elliptical to be found by Messier, and the most perfectly spherical galaxy in the entire catalogue of 110 objects.

The glacier’s terminus is called Gomukh, which means ‘mouth of a cow’, presumed to describe what the snout of this huge glacier once resembled. Importantly, the headwaters of the Bhagirathi River form here. In Hindu culture and mythology, this is considered to be the source of the Ganges and consequentially the destination for many spiritual pilgrimages and treks. Gomukh is a 20 km trek from the village of Gangotri, which is in the top left of the image. While Gomukh and Gangotri have much spiritual significance, the Bhagirathi River offers an important supply of freshwater as well as power as it passes through a number of power stations, including the Tehri hydroelectric complex 200 km downstream (not pictured).

 

Gangotri is in an area also known as ‘the third pole’, which encompasses the Himalaya-Hindu Kush mountain range and the Tibetan Plateau. The high-altitude ice fields in this region contain the largest reserve of freshwater outside the polar regions. With such a large portion of the world’s population dependent on water from these cold heights, changes in the size and flow of these glaciers can bring serious consequences for society by affecting the amount of water arriving downstream.

 

From the vantage point of space, satellites, such as the Copernicus Sentinels, provide essential information to monitor the changing face of Earth’s glaciers, which are typically in remote regions and therefore difficult to monitor systematically from the ground.

 

This image, which was captured on 7 January 2018, is also featured on the Earth from Space video programme.

 

Credits: contains modified Copernicus Sentinel data (2018), processed by ESA,CC BY-SA 3.0 IGO

As I enter the 23rd year of my existence today, something I plan to pursue photographically this year are these antenna towers. The methodical blinking of these beacons scattered throughout the country is something that has always been home for me. Sadly these guys are becoming a bit outdated due to the advances of technology and the internet. One such example of this recently.

 

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Beaverdam, Virginia

 

Hasselblad 500C/M

Methodically sifting through the reed mace.

EPISODE at ABBOTS CHASE Parte 2

  

A fallen sapling blocks the path to the bridge, causing the equines to rear,

Devon smartly cracks his whip to quell the blindered horses’ instinctive fears.

From the bridges’ shadows a masked figure emerges, his senses deliciously a shiver,

A villain known as Smiling George, quite viciously commands out “Stand and deliver”.

  

The owl’s head turns, as George’s crisp words catch its sharp ear crystal clear,

While the rest of the forest quickly hushes, silently waiting for the destinies to appear.

Unscrupulous George moves swiftly in, waving a glinting sword in wickedly showy display,

Roguishly approaching the fancy carriage in his most menacingly cocky way.

  

Startled, Vain Devon Costner, coldly oblivious of his beautiful charges lustful crush,

Jumps hurriedly down from his coach seat, scurrying away in a rapidly cowardice rush.

Leaving his fair, wealthy passenger behind, woefully vulnerable and unprotected,

And to add, a snickering highwayman approaching, enthusiastic and undistracted.

  

Reaching the carriage door, George throws it open exposing the moons light to inside,

Hearing the welcome sounds of luxurious silk rustling, in the shadows someone tries to hide.

Noticing pinpricks of expensive moonlit radiance from jewels now lit in the darkness within,

Mockingly invites the passenger to please step out, drooling as he can hardly wait to begin.

   

Her shadow moved hesitantly, framing the doorway before Georges icy cruel black shape,

A plump purse hung, fat and ripe for the picking, as its owner haplessly sought escape.

Momentarily washed over with extreme excitement, George shakes his head to clear,

Then posture regained, eagerly snatches away the purse, intending to create great fear.

  

George then steps back, stuffing her velvety purse inside his cloak, invites out, grinning wide,

As our lady steps out, letting her pretty gown slither down, her Tiera’d head raised in pride.

Reaching the ground, she stares at the highwayman standing before her, his awe unabashed,

Innocently unaware of how her plethora of diamonds shimmer out to him, tried in the twilights bath.

  

A gentle swishing is heard, as the pretty lady, hiding her nerves, straightens her party frock,

Shivering under his wolfishly hungry gaze, eyeing her curves like a lamb strayed away from her flock.

George felt a spike of greedy delight, observing the slick sheen of her richly tailored lengthy gown,

Trimmed with frills of white, its midnight silks easily, provocatively, from her figure cascading down.

  

As she inwardly admonished how folly it had been to wish upon the mourning star, eyes winced,

With the nasty Highwayman looming before her , of his ultimate attentions she was all too convinced.

To ply his trade upon her, was the resolve the of this cruel blade wielding stranger, she sadly sensed,

Seeing his black gloved fingers reaching, with the danger of losing her baubles, she immediately tensed.

  

Great wish she thought in self pity, a man was now finally looking upon her with intense desires,

But her flesh prickled, knowing it was only her pretty jewels this particular highwayman requires.

Meanwhile Smiling George eagerly approached, sword straight out , mind reeling,

Holding up a satin gloved hand, "Do not touch me sir“, she said firmly, with no feeling.

  

Smiling wickedly, George had held a hand touching her scintillating black gown,

Fingering the rich, luxurious silk, he only smiled in answer to his victim’s frown.

But as for her diamond necklace, it gleamed to him with an inviting display of light,

Smiling George thought to himself, “ This alluring lady shall be a little less richer tonight."

  

The highway man reached out, this Damsels trinkets, her figure to relieve

"Stand and Deliver" she parried shrinking, her ill luck not to be believed.

"Sir, certainly you have a better line", she taunted hopelessly in desperation,

George only grinned wider, her words failing to break into his concentration.

  

"The pretty lady has some wit," George aloud said, as her words struck a chord,

"But if you do not cooperate me lassie, the next touch may be a prick of my sword!"

"I’ll have your necklace first, my fine pretty one!" he snarled, forcing her to step back,

To the miserable lady’s dismay, the coach blocked her way, giving George opportunity to attack.

  

Lifting her necklace, he fingered its diamonds, his eyes evilly tainted with greed,

"Sir, they are not mine, but a friends," she tried bargaining with a desperate plead.

The damsel in distress twisted and turned, trying to break it free of his firm grasp.

But it was in vain, as he held her waist, and pried open the necklaces diamonded clasp,

  

Its mine, she admitted, please do not take it , it was me late Great- Grandmothers pride,

But upon deaf ears her appeals were landing, as the highwayman took what he had eyed.

As the lady felt her diamond necklace tug, then come pulling away from around her throat,

Her spirit weakened, as George held it free, admired its brite glitter with a self-satisfied gloat.

  

The lady bowed her head in sorrow, revealing the diamond coronet she wore with grace,

The highwayman’s fingers flew to the prize, freeing the twinkling trinket from its place.

George pocketed it, then reached again with focused intent, his sword poking her waist,

She thought, "I really don't need this." while shaking her head, unfettered hair flying in his face.

  

Her thrashing head then exposed her long dangling earrings to his searching stare,

Smiling wickedly, his slick fingers slipping in skillfully through her loose silken hair.

Unemotionally avoiding the pleading of her eyes, he pulled the thick silky strands aside,

Then skillfully relieved the lady’s ears of their dangling bangles, ignoring her sad sigh.

  

Then as the thief’s hand snaked up to strip a showy bracelet from his victim’s raised wrist,

The owl left to fly closer, its interest caught by the glittering shimmers in the evenings mist.

Attempting to wrestle free, the damsel tried again to reason, her breaths deep and duress’d,

"Sir, these baubles are worthless!", she pleaded, as he snatched the large brooch from her dress.

  

The highway man’s victim was strugglin, trying not to give in any inch of the way,

George found the damsels be gowned figure slippery, as she twisted to keep him at bay.

Pretty to watch, exciting to feel, Smiling George admired the spirit of his captured prize,

But as always when robbing a frisky lass, gloating with no look of pity crossed his devil’s eyes.

  

Grabbing her hands, he methodically stripped off all her rings, taking great care,

Then he worked off her last diamond bracelet, pulling it free with an added flair.

All the while his vile mind marveling that his little trap this evening had snared,

A totally unique beauty, quite undefended and dazzling with riches plentiful and rare.

  

Into his cloak pocket the pretty ladies glitteringly jewels soon flickered out, disappearing,

Our damsel, had valiantly resisted, but that devil smiling George was once again persevering.

Playing her like a cat would a timid mouse, that was this Highwayman’s favorite devious game,

And like most damsels who met Smiling George that louse, found the Git harbored no shame!

   

Soon George methodically had stripped away everything of hers that glittered and shined,

But his desire was not sated, so he continued to feelingly probe with a determined mind.

Our lady wondered when the creep would finish this searching and pawing of her gown,

When he asked what valuables were hidden underneath, she quickly shot him a cold frown.

  

She squirmed struggling in his grasp, as his nastily malevolent words pierced crisp air,

Knowing there was no more, of her valuables, she had been completely stripped bare.

Still, his fingers poked at her gowned figure, she taunted in his ear, attempting to strike a chord,

"Oui, Would it be easier work me cruel sir! , if you’d just sheathed your bloody sword!?"

  

Smiling George, when out on the prowl for valuables to enrich his vain standing in society,

Practiced no gentlemanly bounds, like all fellow predators, his methods had gained bit of notoriety!

So, ignoring his jewel less victims heart felt appeals to end his terribly uncomfortable advances,

The evil Highwayman just continues on with his searching, taking full advantage of the circumstances.

 

I watched this squirrel methodically clean out the Dogwood tree on this chilly afternoon. He was so cute!

Fellow Flickr member Reid Hildebrandt ( NatureThroughNorthernEyes ) and I were driving along Secrest Hills Road near Oliver, B.C., when a sight we couldn't believe made us slam on the brakes. A Wild Turkey was sitting under a ponderosa pine on the side of the road! Upon getting out the car, the turkey cowered down in the tall grass, trying to somehow hide itself. When we approached, it quickly got up and methodically strutted away. It turned out to be a lifer - #307 for B.C.! It was also the first Wild Turkey to be reported in the South Okanagan in the last several years.

Acte 6 Retribution

Sub titled : Just Desserts

 

Still back in time before the Police Constables disconcerting discovery, we rejoin the small party in the alleyway. Sir Edmund had just fallen faint on the pile of alleyway rubbish where he ended up after his rather unfortunate misadventure with the Gypsy youth called Josey, who hiself his sneaking back up in the shadows. . Lord Edmund’s wife, The Mistress , unawares of her Husband’s fate, is still being led by Josey’s older companion deeper into the shadows of the very same Alley.

  

The now impatient Mistress found herself being led about 25 feet further down the darkened alleyway from where they had left Josey and her husband, the Lord Edmund. Suddenly the tall bearded Gypsy youth stopped, turned, and led her down into deserted court yard, surrounded by backsides of tall, empty looking brick buildings. The place reeked of old garbage , stale beer, and worse smells best left undescribed. The scurrying feet of tiny rodents could be heard , but not seen, in the dim light.

  

Well, where’s the girl!, the Mistress demands, looking around at the barren courtyard, failing to see anyone else around.

  

Well mum you see, that’s the bit of a trick I was tellin you bouts, and from his waistband they Gypsy lad draws a long knife, its blade gleaming wickedly as it is caught by the Moon lite just now peeping through the parting dark clouds.

Put that thing down young man, and get me the girl, The Mistress shrilly commands him, unfazed by the blade, not truly understanding what is taking place( the curse of a privileged, overprotected childhood).

  

Silence, the young gypsy bellows, spitting the words in her face, then leaning in whispers evilly into her ear, his lips moving her shiny dangling earring…lets have that purse now mum. Finally The Mistress realizes the Gypsy lads intent.

 

Now, never in her life has anything like that ever been dared tried on her, and an even newer, at first unrecognizable feeling is felt, as dread washes over her, making her cower before the youth, no older than her husband’s stable boy, Tim, who had felt her strap earlier that morning. A surrendering moan escapes her lips, no she states, never!. Unheeding her commands, The purse she is holding is callously wrenched from her slippery gloved fingers grasp. She just stares at him, unable to find her tongue as he opens the small purse with its rhinestone clasp, and looks through it, lifting up a ring of keys with rising interest.

  

At this time the gypsy girl appears out of the shadows behind The Mistress, wearing the sparkling diamonded bracelet, and nonchalantly swinging the gold watch by its chain as she holds its gold fob, coming around she is smiling mischievously at the Mistress, who straightens up as she catches sight of the imp.

  

The Mistress, loses any vestige of her panic, and in anger and rounds upon the girl as she stands mockingly in front of her. Why you thieving harlot, The Mistress hisses, attempting to smack the girl, who jumps just out of reach. Suddenly The Mistress words are cut off with a meek squeak as the point of the lad’s very sharp knife is pressed under her chin, forcing The Mistress to raise her head, effectively shutting her up. Apologize The Gypsy male snarls wickedly in The Mistress ear, apologies now, tell her you are quite sorry Mum…!

  

The Mistress stands frozen, a stern look upon her puckish face, her lips pursed in defiance, even with the knife pressing threateningly under her chin. Teach you some manners I will he hisses again, as he raises his hand, slapping her on the cheek, the Mistress’s dangling earrings fire bright glittering salvo as her head is whipped to the side, the point of the knife opening a thin scratch along her chin, which quickly wells up with crimson blood.

  

She turns her face forward, facing the pair of young hooligans, glaring at their insolence to someone of her high stature. She is stubbornly holding her ground, all feelings of distress replaced by arrogance and superiority. Well now, the Gypsy Lad says to the Smirking Gypsy girl, as he points the knife in between The Mistress’s breasts, its prickling point effectively quelling any more feelings of retribution. Looks like what words she won’t give to you, will have to be given in some other manner. The Mistress listens, confused by his words, then what he says next, makes his attentions all too crystal clear.

  

For lack of an apology my girl, he says to the petit gypsy lass, let’s say we accept some other compensation, shall we? The young girl beams, as her eyes dart to the Mistress, looking her up and down , eyeing the gemmed jewelry the Mistress is wearing, sparkles of which are reflected in her coy doe wide dark green eyes.

  

The mistress still mute with rage, her hands clenched, her arms rigid at her side as she looks into the Gypsy male’s stern eyes, as he moves his knife up, once again pressing up into her chin. Suddenly, her arms are grabbed by a pair of strong hands and pulled behind her back. Ello, took your sweet time about it, the Gypsy youth holding the knife says to the unseen newcomer. No names are said, and whoever is now holding her remains mute, but the Mistress assumed it was the one called Josey. The Mistress tries turning her head, put is prevented by the knife. Where’s my Edmund, she manages to squeak out the words, but receives no satisfaction.

  

The Gypsy lad holding the knife reaches out his free hand, grinning! Leave me alone, the Mistress orders him, trying admonish him into obedience, bur the gypsy boy just smirks as he methodically , briskly gropes along her body, admiring and inventorying her plentiful jewels, opening her sable, and the satin Bolero, as he checks her over for anything hidden from view. He misses nothing, even her hair is carefully raked through, undoing the braided bun in the process as a diamonded clip is pulled off and handed to the gypsy lass. Her ladyship, shirking back from his touch, now begins to whimper, no, not my jewels! He reaches up, his eyes bugging, as his hand snakes up between her ample breasts and lifts her necklace, admiring it as she tries to shake her head no, but is unable to do so because of the knife. She tries to say more, but the words of discipline stay dry in her throat, choking her as she realizes, finally, the futility of her predicament. The Gypsy boy then nods to the girl, handing her the purse, the honor is yours he says….

  

The young girl taking the open silver clutch purse, smirking, her eyes ablaze with delight, reaches up her free hand and takes hold of the necklace, pretty thing this, she says sweetly, mimicking her earlier words. She pulls the necklace from around the Mistress throat so the clasp comes forward, then nimbly she flicks it open with the fingers of one hand, and pulls it , swishing freely along the satiny fabric, until it falls from the gowns’ neckline. Thank you mum, the Gypsy girl whispers as she places it inside the purse, and reaching up touches a dangling earring, I’ll have those next she says, almost like she is talking her herself, and yanks off both, one after the other. She than gets into her work, and soon the Gypsy girl’s invading fingers friskily finish stripping the Mistress quite clean of all her shimmering, expensively large collection of jewels; rings, bracelet, brooches, the entire glittery roster. It had all been carried out like some bizarre rendition of reverse trick and treating, with the Gypsy girl peeling away and placing the jewels into The Mistress purse. When she finishes, the Gypsy girl steps back, looking with interest inside the now bulging purse, now containing a small fortune, quite unseen for the likes of them who inhabit this rea of the great city.

  

Suddenly The Mistress’s hands are let go, and before she can properly react, male hands briskly grab and slips off the sable from her back. Then the satin bolero is also peeled off and she sees both passed to the waiting hand of the gypsy girl. Still held in her place by the point of the Gypsy’s knife,The Mistress’s eyes grow big with dread, as she feels the back of her long slick gown being unzipped, and allowed to fall freely down to her feet, piling up in a shimmering pool.

This exposes the long, luxurious purple slip she is wearing, complete with small rhinestones decorating its straps and bodice. As the Mistress is standing there, frozen in awe struck disbelief , the knife is taken from her chin, and used to slice each of the rhinestone slips straps, and the mistress grabs the top of the now free hanging slip, and holds if fast to her chest in an effort to preserve whatever remained of her quickly waning dignity.

  

The Mistress tries to find words of protest, but she is too unbelieving that she , a lady who considers herself to be far superior to common folk of their ilk, is absolutely dumbfounded that they are daring to treat her like this, fails to be able to give any words their proper voice.

  

The older gypsy lad holding the knife steps back. Now he says, shouldn’t leave a lady standing, and he points his knife to a stack of crates. She stands there glaring. Move it on now mum, he suggests , his voice carries with it a with mocking tone of fake obedience. The Mistress unwillingly does so, and moving to a crate, sits down, the smell of something rotten permeates her nostrils as she faces her aggressor. The other two have seemingly, cowardly, disappeared somewhere into the shadows she notices with thoughts of righteousness.

  

The Gypsy lad mocks her, there, cannt say we didint leave you nufing, eh mum.( indicating her slip, gloves and high heels)! And by the ways, apology accepted he added sarcastically, mimicking a curt bow.

  

Then almost immediately her eyes are blindfolded from behind ( they hadn’t run after all) with something made of cloth that reeks of decaying meat, and she hears the pratfalls of several pairs of feet running off. And then, all is silent, except for the beating of The Mistress heart from a mixture of rage and incredulity.

  

As all is once again quiet around her, and believing she is now alone, The Mistress continues holding up her slip with one hand, while with the other reaches in back, groping for the blindfold. Suddenly her whole being jolts as something furry with sharp claws runs over her feet, and a noise, not quite a scream, but close, gurgles from The Mistress’s dry throat.

  

Ere now, the mistress hears the voice of an old lady, , whose there? , no rat by the sound of things, she continues on, approaching. What have we here, the old lady says to herself, a damsel in distress by the look of things, whit no dress, and she cackles at her bit of humor. Her dearie, lets get you up and The Mistress feels a pair of cold hands helping her shakenly to her feet.

  

Then her ladyship feels those hands, not giving her aid, but quite the opposite, as cold fingers began going over her. Then, with a dry cackle, and the old hags words reach the Mistress ears, left you with nothing dearie but a shiny slip, too bad, but old Chizzy will check anyways. The Mistress balks as the pair of cold hands grope her figure, the second time that evening! The Mistress recoils, knowing the old hag is looking for anything of value, when quite unexpectedly the Hags hands shoot up into the Mistress underarms, and The Mistress raises her arms automatically as nerves are pressed, and the slip falls down her figure gathering into a slithering heap at her feet. The Mistress tries to protest, her hands going to her blindfold, but she is pushed, and falls over the crate into a pile of cold ashes. Each of Her hands are lifted and she feels her long satin opera gloves pulled off, and then her high heeled shoes are yanked from her feet before she can begin to offer any type of resistance..

  

Thenk you dearie! the Hags voice close enough now that the Mistress can smell the wispy oders of whiskey and old pipe, as it reaches her nostrils. Old Chizzy thenks ye, for your contributions this evening, Honey. The Mistress hears the old hags cackling laugh as ‘Chizzy” makes her get away with the last of the Mistress’s pretty possessions.

  

For a few minutes all is again silent, The Mistress lays upon the pile of asses, dazed by what has befallen her, but then, the cesspool like orders from the garbage surrounding the ash pile start to overwhelm her making the Mistress snap back into the cold reality of her situation.

  

It was then, that , for the second time, the sound of shuffling feet is again heard approaching, and the Mistress tenses up, now expecting more ill fortune, not that she really had anything left of value to lose.. But then a familiar voice, Edmund’s, calls out. Dear, where are you? The Mistress tries to answer, but, her voice dry and choked has trouble making words. Finally she does manage to call out to her husband, but her voice is noticeably missing its’ usual sharpness.

  

Edmund comes to her aid and helps her up. After he undoes the blindfold, she finds herself looking into his questioning eyes, and she actually hugs him. Edmund, startled at the long forgotten display of affection, finds that it takes him a few seconds to regain himself. Hear, cants having you catch your death of cold, he says, almost lovingly. He helps The Mistress find coverings from the piles of old trash in the form of a couple of rough sacks of old, mildewing burlap.

  

Hair disheveled, streaks of dirt and ash covering their figures that are covered with dirty, rancid rags they make their way down the alley, to where they believe their car and chauffer are still waiting. Edmund and the Mistress are both a smelly, reeking mess, moving slowly as their bare feet hobble tortuously along the cobblestone path. But as they make their way, The Mistress tells Edmund what had conspired. As she does, The Mistress feels more of her old self returning, and begins to chastise the three gypsy youths, and how she will make them pay for their rude indiscretions’. Edmund is in total agreement.

  

As they make it back to the alleys’ entrance, a figure appears out of the mist. The Mistress squeals in startled shock at the dark figure standing at the end of the alleyway, she grabs Edmund and pulls him in front of her as one would a shield.

----

 

As the dark figure peers into the alleyways entrance, he suddenly see’s two shadowy forms emerge from the misty pool of light given off from the relit street lamp. The pair is both tottering like being quite intoxicated, smelling like something a rat would have dragged out of the garbage, faces streaked with ashes and muck, barely half dressed. Suddenly, spying him, one of the figures makes a quick move, placing the other in front.

  

At that moment the figure raises his hand and suddenly the night’s silence is completely shattered by the shrill wails of his street constable’s police whistle.

 

End of Acte 6,

 

Watch for the final two actes of this woeful saga;

Acte 7 (Harbinger) and Acte 8 (Footfalls - including the obligatory Epilogue), coming soon….

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Viewed from the other side of the Main (river).

 

"Karlstadt is a town in the Main-Spessart in the Regierungsbezirk of Lower Franconia (Unterfranken) in Bavaria, Germany. It is the administrative centre of Main-Spessart (Kreisstadt), and has a population of around 15,000.

 

Karlstadt lies on the River Main in the district (Landkreis) of Main-Spessart, roughly 25 km north of the city of Würzburg. It belongs to the Main-Franconian wine-growing region. The town itself is located on the right bank of the river, but the municipal territory extends to the left bank.

 

Since the amalgamations in 1978, Karlstadt's Stadtteile have been Gambach, Heßlar, Karlburg, Karlstadt, Laudenbach, Mühlbach, Rohrbach, Stadelhofen, Stetten, and Wiesenfeld.

 

From the late 6th to the mid-13th century, the settlement of Karlburg with its monastery and harbor was located on the west bank of the Main. It grew up around the Karlsburg, a castle perched high over the community, that was destroyed in the German Peasants' War in 1525.

 

In 1202, Karlstadt itself was founded by Konrad von Querfurt, Bishop of Würzburg. The town was methodically laid out with a nearly rectangular plan to defend Würzburg territory against the Counts of Rieneck. The plan is still well preserved today. The streets in the old town are laid out much like a chessboard, but for military reasons they are not quite straight.

 

In 1225, Karlstadt had its first documentary mention. In 1236, the castle and the village of Karlburg were destroyed in the Rieneck Feud. In 1244, winegrowing in Karlstadt was mentioned for the first time. From 1277 comes the earliest evidence of the town seal. In 1304, the town fortifications were finished. The parish of Karlstadt was first named in 1339. In 1369 a hospital was founded. Between 1370 and 1515, remodelling work was being done on the first, Romanesque parish church to turn it into a Gothic hall church. About 1400, Karlstadt became for a short time the seat of an episcopal mint. The former Oberamt of the Princely Electorate (Hochstift) of Würzburg was, after Secularization, in Bavaria's favour, passed in 1805 to Grand Duke Ferdinando III of Tuscany to form the Grand Duchy of Würzburg, and passed with this to the Kingdom of Bavaria.

 

The Jewish residents of the town had a synagogue as early as the Middle Ages. The town's synagogue was destroyed on Kristallnacht (the Night of Broken Glass, 9 November 1938) by Nazi SA men, SS, and Hitler Youth, as well as other local residents. Its destruction is recalled by a plaque at the synagogue's former site. The homes of Jewish residents were attacked as well, the possessions therein were looted or brought to the square in front of the town hall where they were burned, and the Jews living in the town were beaten.

 

Lower Franconia (German: Unterfranken) is one of seven districts of Bavaria, Germany. The districts of Lower, Middle and Upper Franconia make up the region of Franconia. It consists of nine districts and 308 municipalities (including three cities).

 

After the founding of the Kingdom of Bavaria the state was totally reorganised and, in 1808, divided into 15 administrative government regions (German: Regierungsbezirke, singular Regierungsbezirk), in Bavaria called Kreise (singular: Kreis). They were created in the fashion of the French departements, quite even in size and population, and named after their main rivers.

 

In the following years, due to territorial changes (e. g. loss of Tyrol, addition of the Palatinate), the number of Kreise was reduced to 8. One of these was the Untermainkreis (Lower Main District). In 1837 king Ludwig I of Bavaria renamed the Kreise after historical territorial names and tribes of the area. This also involved some border changes or territorial swaps. Thus the name Untermainkreis changed to Lower Franconia and Aschaffenburg, but the city name was dropped in the middle of the 20th century, leaving just Lower Franconia.

 

From 1933, the regional Nazi Gauleiter, Otto Hellmuth, (who had renamed his party Gau "Mainfranken") insisted on renaming the government district Mainfranken as well. He encountered resistance from Bavarian state authorities but finally succeeded in having the name of the district changed, effective 1 June 1938. After 1945 the name Unterfranken was restored.

 

Franconia (German: Franken, pronounced [ˈfʁaŋkŋ̍]; Franconian: Franggn [ˈfrɑŋɡŋ̍]; Bavarian: Frankn) is a region of Germany, characterised by its culture and Franconian dialect (German: Fränkisch).

 

Franconia is made up of the three Regierungsbezirke of Lower, Middle and Upper Franconia in Bavaria, the adjacent, Franconian-speaking, South Thuringia, south of the Thuringian Forest—which constitutes the language boundary between Franconian and Thuringian— and the eastern parts of Heilbronn-Franconia in Baden-Württemberg.

 

Those parts of the Vogtland lying in Saxony (largest city: Plauen) are sometimes regarded as Franconian as well, because the Vogtlandian dialects are mostly East Franconian. The inhabitants of Saxon Vogtland, however, mostly do not consider themselves as Franconian. On the other hand, the inhabitants of the Hessian-speaking parts of Lower Franconia west of the Spessart (largest city: Aschaffenburg) do consider themselves as Franconian, although not speaking the dialect. Heilbronn-Franconia's largest city of Heilbronn and its surrounding areas are South Franconian-speaking, and therefore only sometimes regarded as Franconian. In Hesse, the east of the Fulda District is Franconian-speaking, and parts of the Oden Forest District are sometimes regarded as Franconian for historical reasons, but a Franconian identity did not develop there.

 

Franconia's largest city and unofficial capital is Nuremberg, which is contiguous with Erlangen and Fürth, with which it forms the Franconian conurbation with around 1.3 million inhabitants. Other important Franconian cities are Würzburg, Bamberg, Bayreuth, Ansbach and Coburg in Bavaria, Suhl and Meiningen in Thuringia, and Schwäbisch Hall in Baden-Württemberg.

 

The German word Franken—Franconians—also refers to the ethnic group, which is mainly to be found in this region. They are to be distinguished from the Germanic people of the Franks, and historically formed their easternmost settlement area. The origins of Franconia lie in the settlement of the Franks from the 6th century in the area probably populated until then mainly by the Elbe Germanic people in the Main river area, known from the 9th century as East Francia (Francia Orientalis). In the Middle Ages the region formed much of the eastern part of the Duchy of Franconia and, from 1500, the Franconian Circle. The restructuring of the south German states by Napoleon, after the demise of the Holy Roman Empire, saw most of Franconia awarded to Bavaria." - info from Wikipedia.

 

Summer 2019 I did a solo cycling tour across Europe through 12 countries over the course of 3 months. I began my adventure in Edinburgh, Scotland and finished in Florence, Italy cycling 8,816 km. During my trip I took 47,000 photos.

 

Now on Instagram.

 

Become a patron to my photography on Patreon or donate.

I happened to watch this gentleman pace back and forth while on his phone engaging in conversation. I thought he made for an interesting shot while crossing the street.

In a certain respect, the difference between philosophy, theology and gnosis is total; in another respect, it is relative. It is total when one understands by "philosophy" rationalism alone; by "theology", the explanation of religious teachings alone; and by "gnosis", intuitive and intellective, and thus supra-rational, knowledge; but the difference is only relative when one understands by "philosophy" the fact of thinking, by "theology" the fact of speaking from a dogmatic point of view about God and religious things, and by "gnosis" the fact of presenting pure metaphysics, for then the genres are interpenetrating.

 

It is impossible to deny that the most illustrious Sufis, while being "gnostics" by definition, were at the same time to some extent theologians and to some extent philosophers, or that the great theologians were both to some extent philosophers and to some extent gnostics, the last word having to be understood in its proper and not sectarian sense.

 

If we wish to retain the limitative, or indeed pejorative sense of the word philosopher, we could say that gnosis or pure metaphysics takes certainty as its starting-point, whereas philosophy on the contrary has doubt as its starting-point, and strives to overcome this only with the means that are at its disposition and which do not pretend to be more than purely rational. But since neither the term "philosophy" in itself, nor the usage that has been made of it since the earliest times, oblige us to accept only the restrictive sense of the word, we shall not consider criminal those who employ it in a wider sense than what may seem to be opportune.

 

Theory, by definition, is not an end in itself, it is only - and seeks only - to be a key with a view to a cognition on the part of the "heart".

 

If there is attached to the notion of"philosophy" a suspicion of superficiality, insufficiency and pretension, it is precisely because only too often - and indeed always in the case of the moderns – it is presented as being sufficient unto itself. "This is only philosophy": we readily accept the use of this turn of phrase, but only on condition that one does not say that "Plat'o is only a philosopher", Plato who said that "beauty is the splendor of the truth"; beauty that includes or demands all that we are or can be.

 

If Plato maintains that the philosophos should think independently of received opinions, he is referring to intellection and not to logic alone; whereas Descartes, who did everything to restrict and compromise the notion of philosophy, reaches such a conclusion from the starting-point of systematic doubt, so that for him philosophy is synonymous not only with rationalism, but also with skepticism.

 

This is a first suicide of the intelligence, inaugurated moreover by Pyrrho and others, in the guise of a reaction against what one looked on as metaphysical "dogmatism".

 

The "Greek miracle" is in fact the substitution of the reason for the Intellect, of the fact for the Principle, of the phenomenon for the Idea, of the accident for the Substance, of the form for the Essence, of man for God; and this applies to art as well as to thought.

 

The true Greek miracle, if miracle there be (and in this case it would be related to the "Hindu miracle”), is doctrinal metaphysics and methodic logic, providentially utilized by the monotheistic Semites .

Frithjof Schuon

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^Lucidity

 

My twin sister has had, from early memory, a rather silly game she has always liked to play out on me.

 

Starting quite young, she had always thought it a great tease to try and lift things from my pockets when I was distracted.

 

And to be Honest, she had soon gotten quite good at it, to my chagrin.

 

Then of course, I made the mistake of letting her know it got under my skin when she would do that! So of course she kept on doing it, grinning with great satisfaction when she was successful.

 

Which she was a good deal of the time !

 

I had tolerated it for quite a few years, until one day when I found a way to get my revenge.

 

Which I did by lifting her necklace during a rather severely formal event we were rather forced into attending when we were 13.

 

Actually I lifted her necklace several times that evening without her catching on to what was truly happening…..! But that is another story altogether.

  

Needless to say, since then we had been going back and forth, cat and dog, trying to out do one another in our versions of the game from that time forward, lasting into our present adult hood.

 

Now, this rather insightful event I am about to relate, happened about two years after I had discovered my own spin on my twins annoying game.

 

By then I had successfully played it out on her several times…

 

This time around it was quite intriguing situation, for neither my sister or I had ever been to a wedding.

 

My sister( along with our mother) was assigned to be a bridesmaid at our Mum’s University chum’s wedding.

 

Sis was included to accommodate an age match for the Grooms younger brother, an oops baby Mum had said.

  

Apparently there were a dearth of females that young on either side of the Bride and Groom’s families.

  

I will admit me mum and sister looked rather smashing in their matching, quite vibrant bridesmaid’s attire.

 

^^^^^^^^^^

 

Later on, at the reception, I was watching as my sister was swishing out on the dance floor with the simpy young bloke who was her partner.

  

As Sis danced about in her long lavender coloured gown of some shiny material, I had eagerly watched her glittery collection of rhinestone diamonds flickering with mad abandon along her figure, as they were caught in the dim lights.

  

They were the same set of rhinestones which all the bridesmaids had been given and were wearing with the long flowing dresses that matched my sister’s.

 

They were all the same size too. So that the set my young sister was wearing looked like an adults. Especially her necklace, which seemed to go on forever as it dangled down the front of her slick gown, ending into a long v shape..

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^

I actually had been pressed into service to help her place the shimmering necklace on around her neck at home before we left.

 

As she had held up her hair giving me a clear look at the long dangling earrings that she had already clasped on, she lifted the necklace up, holding the jeweled ends up to me to take and clasp.

 

I did so, watching the sparkling show reflected in our mums vanity mirror from over my sister’s shoulder..

 

As I observed my sister’s reflection, I could see that she was also keeping a rather watchful eye on me ( and her jewels I suspected)

 

Of course I acted all of the innocent one !

 

The jewels my sister was wearing also included a bracelet around a gloved hand, with a glittery ring on same hand. A brooch dangled from her waist, pinned to the front of a wide ribbed sash attached to her gown, and which I was directed to tie in a bow at her back.

  

She had stood in front of Mother’s long mirror as I stood behind tying.

  

But, truth be told, despite my innocent act, I had found the rhinestones a most attractive lure. Feeling an all too familiar certain tingle coming up from deep within as she teasingly played with her long gown, admiring her pretty self in the mirror..

  

It didn’t help much that only the weekend before we had seen an olde American funny show about people stranded on an island. We had seen the silly show a few times before, and I had really thought it was a bit of a bore.

 

The only thing I found about it to hold my attention is that several of the females liked to dress up in gowns and jewels, which peaked my interest, though it was kinda odd that people stranded on an island would be doing that sort of thing, was it not now?

 

But this one show had a newcomer, a thief, stranded on the island with them. And…

 

Well we will come to that soon enough….

 

But as I helped my sister on with her black velvet jacket, and followed her to the car watching her long gown fluidly flowing down out from underneath her jacket to where it fluttered at her heels, my thoughts were on that telly show, and I pondered over the possibilities of what the day could bring…….

  

^^^^^^^^^^^^^

  

So now at the reception, as I watched me mum, sister and all the other dancers, I found my eyes kept glancing back at my sister, and her showy attire, mesmerized, as the welcomed feelings re-emerged, dredging up from within!

 

I also began to notice the other shimmering jewels that many of the female guests were wearing along their equally fancy dressed figures.

 

So this is what a wedding was like, I was myself, finding it rather a bit interesting all around !

  

The music ended as the band took a break. The bloke quickly deserted my sister for his side of the family and my twin made her sparkling, gown swirling way, threading through the guests, finally coming up to our table.

  

I had sat with dad, while mum and sis were up at the head table. We had sat with other members of Mum’s Friends, but they had all left to go to another table once the music had started. Mum had dropped her things off at our table, then Her and Dad had also gone off to visit.

  

So we were left at the table alone, to find our own devices to entertain ourselves.

 

Or at least my sister had to find entertainment, unbeknownst to her, I already had mine !

 

As we talked while sitting at the deserted table, I kept stealing looks at my twin sister’s jewels, which were still rippling with sparkles with every squirming move she made. And the little chatterbox was by no means ever still for long.

 

Then my sister began to absentmindedly play with her hair ( a sign she was getting bored)!

 

I saw one of her long earrings give a peek out, shooting out a mad shimmer before darting back into hiding. As I half watched, still deep in thought, she nonchalantly tugged at that sparkling earring, like it was going to be pulled off….!

  

Then, with sudden clarity, an overwhelming desire surged over me as a rather delicious, devious plot popped in my brain… How many different pieces of my sister’s jewels could I manage to lift at one event?

  

For you see, on that American tv show, the stranded folks had invited the thief to their fancy dress dinner. The girls had primped up, wearing fancy gowns, and lots of diamonds, much like the plentiful jewels sis ,the other bridesmaids and a few of the younger guests were so winningly wearing.

 

The people stranded on that island believed the thief when he had said he was reformed, but he had decidedly not been reformed, only pretending to be that way in order to rob them some more.

 

And the cheeky devil began to rob them again, centering on the ladies and their sparklers he did !

 

The one wealthy lady was wearing quite a lot of diamonds. Some of her jewels were quite similar to the ones my sister was wearing, including the dangling long necklace. This charming thief managed to smoothly slip that expensive looking necklace off from around the throat of her sparkly blue gown.

 

I think he also took one of her bracelets! She had had two, both shimmering around each wrist of her long gloves, like the single bracelet my sister was also wearing on a similar long glove, but where this lady’s gloves were white, sis’s gloves were the same colour and material of her gown.

 

A second lady had hair like my sister’s, long and worn down. She was also wearing these long earrings which were strikingly like the ones sis was now playing around with, as well as a diamond ring similar also to the one my sister had on.

 

The thief had managed to neatly slip off not one, but both of those pretty sparkly diamond earrings. And looking later, I believe he had also took her ring as he kissed her hand!

 

The third and last lady was wearing a plainer frock, with small diamond earrings and a matching pinky ring. I believe it was the ring that soon fell victim to this scoundrels wiles. I was not sure, because she had been the first one he had lured off to be alone with him, and it was before I realized just what he was up to.

 

But he had taken her hand, and something must have happened because the audience had been laughing, as they had done later in the show when the necklace, braclet, and earrings had been nicked.

 

So I played over in my mind several ways I could lift my twin’s jewels in a similar devious fashion as the “reformed” thief.

 

Now, as I was my deep in thoughts of acquiring some of her sparkling jewels, I had done a bit of squirming of me own, and, noticing with interest, my sister looked over at me, ” Bored too huh, wanna sneak out now?”

 

I had almost forgotten. But it may prove to be perfect for my schemes !

 

You see, we had passed a small playground, then some woods, as we then turned into the church parking lot. As we were getting out of the car, my sister had whispered that we should slip out later and check the area out.

 

So, looking carefully around to make sure we were not watched, we got up and snuck our way along the wall until we reached the hallway leading to the restrooms.

 

At the opposite end of that hallway, was a circular staircase that led upstairs and to the side exit leading conveniently out to the back parking lot.

 

So we now slipped inside the hallway, and after waiting until a couple of giggling older teenage girls , , looking like debutantes in their long flowy dresses, long haired tied up, and their fetching figures adorned with white pearled jewelry, passed us by.

 

We than scurried our way to the staircase, and up and out to our adventure.

 

It was a beautiful sunny late afternoon, blue sky with a few wispy clouds that greeted our exit to freedom.

 

Happily we made our way across the parking lot and up to a stone statute depicting the last station of the cross ( the resurrection) that was set on the edge of the wooded area. The rest of the stations apparently led along a path that winded along through the woods.

 

We followed the path, looking at the old statuary depiction of the passion walk. The faces of the figures in abrupt agony, most definitely putting a certain chill in the air.

 

Still we contentedly meandered our way through, my mind meanwhile still working on the problem of how to acquire the first of the brite jewels my sister was wearing in a most certainly quite inviting manner.

 

It was always a bit fun, the plotting of lifting her jewels!

 

And today was no exception, as I watched her flirt about in her long flowy gown, her guard now apparently down, as she seemingly appeared to be totally unaware that her jewelry was in peril of being snatched.

 

Much like those three, diamonds and frills wearing, lasses in that silly tv show had been unawares when welcoming the thief into their party!!

  

But of course, my stupid mind could not come up with any plan that I thought would be successful to carry out my desired deeds…And I had had quite a few come in and rejected out of my mind as being too cockamamie, while we were walking up that path!

 

Then my sister, bless her innocence, conveniently gave me an opening.

 

We had stopped in front of one of the statue stations. A bird had made its nest in the crook of the stone cross. Sis wanted to see it, and kicking off her shoes, had tried to climb up to see inside.

 

Acting like that gentleman thief from the show, I had helped her up, and held her by the waist as she leaned over and peeked in. Her brooch was dangling freely, and my fingers had clasped around the jewel. I carefully tried to locate and undo the clasp, but could not find it in time, before she found the nest empty and asked me to help her down.

 

If only the bloody nest had been full !!

 

I saw She had skipped off ahead of me a bit.

 

So at least she had not noticed or felt my attempt, so I was still at the bat in the wicket.

 

I began to replay what I remembered of the show. I looked over my sister as I did so. Her necklace? No, not in the way he did it.

 

I thoughtfully watched as my sister moved about, her gown fluttering merrily along her figure…hair flying out behind her

 

My sisters longish hair was loosely down, as his third pretty victims silky hair had been… the one with the dangly earrings he had managed to lift…

  

Her earrings then ? Hmmm..

  

But as I was formulating a plan to nab at least one of my sister’s earrings, she abruptly stopped. And letting out a small squeal and stooped over to pick something up from the path.

 

Damn, I was not paying attention and had allowed her to get far enough ahead that such an obvious opportunity was lost.

 

It would have been perfect, for there was no way to suggest having her bend down without arousing suspicion. But If I had been closer when she had innocently done it on her own, well who knows what mischief a little thing like falling over into her would have resulted into ?

  

She rose, and brought over to me a colourful stone that shimmered in her gloved palm much like her jewels. I held her glove hand up, looking at it, my eyes also watching the bracelet just dangling there for the taking.

  

I picked up the the stone from her hand, and let it slip out, allowing it to fall to the ground. “Clumsy” she scolded, and as she bent down to retrieve it, my fingers raced up to her bracelet. But she pulled her hand from mine as she retrieved the stone, and that opportunity slipped through my fingers also, as I lost hold of her bracelet before working the clasp.

  

She moved off, looking at the sparkling stone. I followed close, ready and watching for some new opportunity, observing her longish hair falling down along the back of her gown. I watched its silky mass as my mind wandered back to the circumstances I needed in order to create the opportunity for me to nick her cascading jeweled earrings.

 

In the show on the telly he had…

  

But before I could finish that thought, we Suddenly found ourselves in by a small narrow clearing, and my sister looking down the hill, saw the playground a distance off through the woods.

 

My sister grasped my arm, there it is, let’s go over she chirped! As my objectives, her earrings, swinging along from her earlobes, were dancing in and out of her hair as she pleaded.

 

I held my thoughts in check. Maybe the playground would offer up some nice easy possibilities?!

 

Even though the path did not go that way, we soon spied a well-used route, not stoned over like the one we were currently following, but unmistakable a short cut through to the playground.

 

I pointed it out and we happily took the path, heading off to the playground and all its assorted attractions.

 

We reached it in short time.

 

But It really was nothing much, just a few swing sets, totter, and a spinner. On the opposite side, probably some 120 meters, was a fenced area with signs warning of electric hazard.

 

My sister made for the swing and, pulling back her gown, slipped on one, facing the woods, her back to the rest of the playground.

 

She kicked off her tight heels, laughing. I sat on the swing beside her and we both just kicked back and forth a little, chatting away. I watched as her necklace bounced up and down upon her sleek chest as she swung. A thought struck me on a method to lift away her necklace.

 

I got up and began to push her, my hands upon her back. I couldn’t see the necklace from this position, her hair was covering it.

 

But I reached up each time she sung back and eventually had my hands upon her shoulder.

 

She leaned back giggling, her head bouncing against my chest, my objective sparkling within reach as it dripped down from her throat…and so were her earrings ! All so close and yet so far. My fingers itching to make a try, at something but I didn’t want to muck it up and be caught out on my first attempt either !

 

I repositioned my hands to the small of her back.

 

I found that my fingers travelled with effortless ease up along the backside of the slick material of her fancy bridesmaid’s gown.

 

But my attempt fell short of its objective, my fingers getting lost in her hair that lay splayed across the back of her pretty gown.

 

I kept pushing her on the swing, my mind going miles a minute. Maybe be a different approach was needed The spinner? Or maybe a game, like say blind man’s bluff?

 

My mind pounced on that, liking the thought, and I just happened to have a handkerchief in my pocket!

  

I stole a look around to see if ……

  

It was as I did so that I saw them.

  

Two boys and a girl, a few years older than us, leaning against two bikes, smoking right under that sign which clearly, strictly forbade smoking in the area.. There were definitely dressed as punks, spiky hair, chains, ripped jeans, the lot.

 

And certainly had been watching us with quite some interest.

  

At that point my sister’s swing hit against me, and I was moved back by the force. I kept my balance, as I saw that my twin had turned to see what had happened. She saw the group of three, and they saw her fully for the first time, in all her fancy dress, with the pretty rhinestones just sparkling away.

  

I had a dark inkling that we probably should not linger here any longer. I said so much to my sister.

  

Shoes she said, and I collected hers and quickly placed them back on her feet. I was watching past her and could see that the three had now formed a huddle.

  

I helped my sister up from the swing, and she straightened her gown, bending down, her necklace dangling temptingly loose.

  

It would just figure that I now had a perfect opportunity at that point, her hair had fallen forward exposing the necklaces clasp. But to say that the situation was less than ideal, would be an understatement.

 

So I took her arm and quickly led her off. Looking back I saw that one of the boys, his cig dangling from his lip, had moved towards us a bit, stopping and was watching as we left. Needless to say I felt a bit uneasy as we made our hasty retreat..

 

We gained the safety of the woods, and soon disappeared into the tree line, scurrying back up along the wooded path.

 

We finally reached back to the stony path of the passion statues, and felt a bit securer with each step we took, eventually starting to meander about, playing down all thoughts of the incident on the playground.

 

Actually we both started to feel a bit embarrassed by the whole thing, acting like a couple of fraidy cats!

 

Soon I found that my mind, regretting the lost opportunity at the play ground , was again working on my intriguing bits of my challenge.

 

All the while, I stole quick glances at my sister waltzing about.

I just could not get enough of her show!

 

The long shiny gown fluttering about with each step, as her jewels flashed with what I found to be a now more than just taunting show.

 

But there had been something about the way those punks had snapped to attention, when me twin sister had turned towards them.

 

I remember it was concerning a thought I myself had had after the American telly show was over..

 

The thief in the tv show had only taken a few of the copious diamonds the ladies had been wearing. I guess that I figured if he was luring them off, why didn’t he just take all of their jewels !?

 

It wasn’t like he was going to be caught and thrown into a jail was he now, stranded alone with them on the island ?

 

I looked at my sister wandering about, her gown moving fluidly hither and tither as she looked here and there. Those quite mesmerizing jewels keeping in flashy rhythm as she so innocently explored..

 

What if….?

What if indeed !

 

I slowed down, letting my sister get to wondering a bit ahead, pretending in my mind of being someone with a devious intent on the ( in my mind, real) jewels that were dangling and sparkling along this fetching lass clad in a shiny gown that swished and swirled about her figure in a rather enchanting fashion.

 

Much like the gowns and jewels those 3 stranded lasses on that island had been doing!

 

I stopped by one of the large white Stations of the cross and pondered it over..

 

My sister soon took a turn ahead of me on the path, disappearing around a corner.

 

There was a bench across the path facing the statue. Behind the bench was the large trunk of a rather ancient tree. I slipped in behind the trunk to hide .

 

Spying a short knobby stick at my feet I picked it up…may come in handy I thought a bit wickedly as I prepared to play at being Robin Hood!

 

Soon I heard her call my name, then silence, except for the swishing of her long gown as she quickly came back down the path. From a hole in a large bush, I could see was looking side to side, her jewels sparkling nicely, like those the poor lasses jewels had been wearing before their loss.. a loss of jewels Like this one was about to encounter!

 

I waited for her to innocently pass me by, as I lurked back from her sight in the shadows of my tree.

 

She suddenly stopped, catching a stone in one of her heels.

 

She limped over to the bench and stooping over pulled off the offending heel and shook it.

 

I dropped the knobby stick, smelling a new opportunity that was ripe for the picking..

 

I slipped out ,quiet as a church mouse, and snuck up behind her on the heels of my feet.

 

Reaching my intended victim without any notice, I held my hands over her eyes.

 

She immediately straightened up, I could feel her figure freezing rigid.

 

I could also feel her long earrings under my palms as I still held managed to hold my fingers over her eyes.

 

I bent over and said in her ear, ” guess who lass?” as I eyed up close several of my objectives just dangling there with no care in the world.

 

After I spoke, I started pulling my hands from her eyes, and lifted back her hair with my thumbs, while resting my fingers gently upon her earlobes. Both of her earrings dangling coolly from out underneath..!

 

Meanwhile She had breathed a sigh of relief at hearing my voice while placing her gloved hand upon her beating heart.

 

“Not funny” she scolded, looking forward. I was watching her ring and bracelet do their sparkling dance from her finger and wrist respectively.

 

As I positioned my fingers to slowly pull down the long earrings from her earlobes, I started to ask what had happened, hoping she would look down at her feet as I finished my attempt to slip away her eye-catching earrings.

  

But, before I could start my sentence, that quick, opportunity once again slithered away from my grasp !

 

For we both simultaneously heard it at the same time…

 

The slow squealing sound of tyres from a bicycle being walked, coming up to us some short distance behind us on the path, from the direction of the playground!

 

My sister turned her head, her earrings slipped from my fingertips, as my hands lost their grip and fell down upon her shoulders.

 

Bollocks I said under my breath, as yet another opportunity to steal away a piece of my sister’s jewelry was lost. This one just whisked from my grasp would have been the easiest yet!

 

“What’s that ?” she said, innocently turning her face up to look at me, earrings and necklace again shooting off their taunting sparks.

 

And I now had grown cold with the realization that I may not be the only one my sister’s jewels had been taunting !!

 

I put a finger to her lips and told her, quick, behind the statues!

.

I realized what the sound of the tyres meant, and they were gaining.

 

I helped my sister up and we both crossed the stone path, darting behind the cross station statue group.

 

As we skulked down behind it my sister again asked what I thought it was?

 

“Sush and, don’t move!” I told her, pulling her silky clad figure close to mine, feeling our hearts beating rapidly…

 

Soon we heard voices above the sound of the bikes tyres. There were only the two of them, two of the group of three who had been giving my sister the once over at the playground.

 

One ripped jean jacketed Boy and the spiky haired female. They were walking beside a bike, the boy still had a cig dangling from a crooked, sneering lip. I wondered what had become off the other boy?

 

The squealing of wheels got closer and closer and we watched through the thicket behind the statue group depicting Jesus falling for the first time, as slowly they walked the bikes past us, looking straight ahead on the path before them.

We quite clearly could hear them now.

 

He : “She came this way!”

She: “Think they were real…?”

He: “Naw, not on a kid like that, fake, but still the bunch might be worth a few bob… enough for cigs, maybe… plus whats in her shiny purse and the lads tie clasp, probably has a wallet, or some coins at the least!”

“Them rich kids always do have sometin, and they usually give no problem handing them over nicely, do they now? “ He said wickedly…

She: Giggling at some memory..

 

I heard my sister gasp and pulling her even closer, clamping my hand over her mouth

 

They had passed.

 

I heard the girl saying something, but it was broken up. The words, “that little darlings” followed by a mumbled sentence with a word that sounded like “peel”, and then clearly the words “shiny dress ..” , before they had rounded the corner and the rest of her words were lost to us.

 

We waited a good while, then stole along the path. As my sister walked on directly ahead, I was watching and listening , all too well aware of the reality of being ambushed and mugged by the pair…

 

An unsettling image flashed in my head, close to home, because it had been my idea also…

 

In my mind, the bike was now laying abandoned on the ground.

 

The rude spiky haired punk girl was heartlessly staring at my sister, whilst caressing with grubby hands, the soft gown my twin was now limply wearing along her figure.

 

As the punk lad, cig still hanging from a curled lip, was methodically searching said figure; locating and pulling off all the jewels my forlorn sister had been wearing, shoving his pockets with the shimmering lot as he displayed a rather evil grin.

 

I no sooner shook the thought from my head, then another entered it.

 

Where had that other lad gotten off too?

 

I imagined a pair of rough hands grabbing me and pushing me off the path, then approaching from behind my unsuspecting sister, much like I had intended earlier with the a stick. But in my mind, what the third one was holdin, was no stick!

  

Get a grip lad, I thought to myself, as I looked behind us. But the path seemed to be deserted enough.

 

We moved on, my sister wanting to ask a million questions, but I motioned to her to move away silently.

 

We cautiously made our way back along the path, looking and listening all about us.

 

Finally,( it seemed like forever) without further incident, we came out to the edge of the woods and the welcome sight of the parking lot behind the promised sanctuary of the church..

 

I could see up ahead, on the road leading from the parking lot, the pair still walking beside their bike. We watched until they had moved off out of sight. Then we both darted across the lot and got to the exit leading back down to the security of the reception going on below.

 

Once safely inside we caught our breaths, before scampering down the stairs. Both of us headed directly to the loo, shortly meeting up again inside the reception area.

 

People were still dancing and mingling, totally unaware that we had even gone.

 

Even our parents, when we met up with them back at our table, just calmly asked if we were enjoying ourselves. We looked at each other smiling, yes we said in unison as we both plopped down in our seats.

  

They then asked what we had been up to in order to amuse ourselves?

 

“Dancing! “ my sister chirped, then rising, she got me up and led me onto the dance floor to avoid further questions.

 

We began our dance, weaving our way in and out of the by now liquored up adults.

 

We mulled over the close shave we had had, and now that the danger had passed, looked upon the occurrence as a bit of a lark. But all thoughts had left of my plots on relieving my sister of her jewels. I felt that it would just would be bad cricket.

 

It was a slow dance and we mimicked what the other couples were doing, still awkwardly since we had not really had much experience at it. But it was enjoyable all the same.

 

I know she is just my sister, but as I was aware then of a certain inkling, one that I really grew to appreciate later on with my wife, there is nothing like the experience of holding a warm body in close dance, especially one that is clad in a shiny gown and even shinier jewels!

 

The music ended all too soon and we left the floor.

 

My sister stopped me, Well little brother she said ( she is older by a few minutes and never lets me forget), thank you for saving me, and she gave me quite an enveloping hug.

 

I told her it was nothing.. and she smiled sweetly up at me before we continued our way back.

 

As we walked I reached down to straighten my tie that I had felt flapping about. It was then I realized my clasp was gone.

 

I looked at my sister, walking on ahead… The little snit had taken it when she had been giving me a hug, pretending to be sincere!

 

Game on “older” sister I thought…

 

My sister slid on her chair at the table, smugly looking all the world like a jeweled cat that had caught the canary. Said jewels, , especially her necklace, still were dancing about with sparkles under the lights, like they too were mocking me..

 

Well missy I thought, lets try another dance then!

 

And with my mind I envisioned back to the time I had been successful at slipping off another of her necklaces while we had danced a couple of years back.

 

But I never got the opportunity, for the band was taking a break, and shortly our parents reappeared to collect us.

 

We got our coats from the check in, and prepared to leave…

 

And so it twas, that the evening ended late, and as I helped my sister on with her black velvet jacket. All opportunity seemed lost, at least till next time.

 

We went back up the stairs we had snuck out on earlier, and regained our car in the now dark parking lot.

 

We settled in the back of the car for the long trog home.

 

Soon she was fast asleep, lulled by the cars engine.

Again I smelled ripe opportunity !

 

I looked down at my passed-out sister, so peacefully dreaming away. I placed my arm around her shoulder, she did not budge. Her jewels were mostly hidden by her fastened velvet jacket.

 

I looked ahead at my parents, but they were not looking back, probably figuring we both were asleep.

 

Like a curious thief, I reached down and with upmost care, unfastened the three buttons that hide the treasures from view. After I had undid the last, I pulled her jacket open a bit then settled back and out of the corner of my eye, admired my handiwork !

 

Her now exposed sleekly soft lavender gown looked like it was pouring out along her figure from underneath the stark black velvet jacket. Her splendid collection of jewels were easy to find, as they occasionally sparkled as headlights from passing cars caught them up in their light.

 

Her necklace still holding a glittery court as it dropped freely from down around her throat.

 

So very pretty as it lay there shimmering, and so vulnerably within reach !

 

My fingers soon began their familiar tingling, my thoughts were racing...

 

What would that thief on the show had done?

 

There had been no cars on that show, they were on a deserted island after all.

 

I shook my head clear and settled back… then opened my eyes wide..

 

The most wicked, tantalizingly vexing, of thoughts washed over me with a delicious tingle.

 

But he had robbed them as they slept!

 

Plus my twerp of a sister did still have my tie clip, didn’t she now?!

  

I cautiously reached over and then around my twin’s slumbering form, moving my hand down along her side.

 

My fingers went inside her jacket, glided along her gown till I reached her glittery purse on the seat next to her. I managed to snap open the purses’ clasp, finding and lifting out my purloined gold plated tie clasp.

 

Putting it in my pocket, I looked the situation most carefully over, both my victims position, as well as the placement of her quite glimmering jewels.

 

Slowly, ever so slowly, I began to locate and move her jewels about, to see if my victim would stir. She did not! I could now feel the hooked clasp of her necklace.

 

I lifted up the chain, easily unhooked her necklace, and pulled it ever so carefully from around her throat, stealing glances at the rearview mirror, but our parents still were not paying us in the back any heed.

 

I finished sliding the necklace around, pulling it away. letting it dangle as a set of headlights from a passing car bathed it in sparkling array, then, reaching around my slumbering victims soft figure, deposited it inside the purse.

 

It was the best piece she was wearing of all her jewelry, and so naturally would be the first to be taken by any thief worth his salt under similar circumstances !

 

I reached back down, my fingers feeling along her still gloved arm till I reached her wrist. Then carefully placing a finger under it, lifted the bracelet before finding and then working open its’ clasp. Off it came easily, sliding snakelike from around her wrist. I reached over her again, and it soon landed on top of its mate in her purse .

 

She stirred a bit, and I reached my arm around my victim’s soft waist, pulled her a bit closer, and she soon settled in back to sleep.

 

Then I worked on her earrings next. Reaching in her hair, locating, then most cautiously started slipping off, each of her clasped earrings in turn. The twin buggers would not elude me this time!

 

It wasn’t easy, and took some tricky effort, but I managed it, and in careful turn, slowly, with most upmost care, caressed smoothly each long diamonded earring off her ears in turn. My victim felt nothing, did not stir again from her probably most pleasant dreams.

 

The purloined earrings also joined their glistening fellows on top of the growing pile inside her purse

 

Finally I found and worked off her ring from a gloved finger, greatly aided by the smoothness of said satin glove.

 

As I finished, I deposited the ring, clasped my sister’s purse shut, a job well done.

  

Feeling rather like an actual thief at that point, I finished the job by slipping the small purse, now weighty with gems, into my pocket.

 

I knew what just I was going to do next….

 

Last Autumn my twin had lifted my wallet while pretending to stand behind me fixing my collar to tuck in my tie. I had not caught on at the time, and when I did, she had had time to hide it. In order to get it back, she ransomed it by making me do a full weeks’ worth of her chores.

 

Well my sweet, conniving sister, what goes around, comes around !

 

All I had to do was keep her from noticing her jewels had been lifted.

 

While I dwelt over this thought I eyed over my victim admiring my handy work.

 

My sister turned a bit, mumbling a little.

 

She had stretched out and moved away a little, I had just finished relieving her of her jewels just in time!

 

But as I looked her over, I realized that I had missed a trick! With the next passing car, I saw her now exposed brooch glisteningly betraying its position!

 

I moved over, leaning, reached down and in, once again my fingers glided along her smooth gown, until I reached her satin sash. Using the sash as a path, I travelled along it till I reached the glittering holdout!

 

I lifted the jewel, and this time my fingers easily found its’ clasp. Working blind, I thought I had unpinned it, and began pulling the dangly brooch from her sash.

 

But It was still attached, and as I pulled up, my sister again stirred, waking up, mumbling.

 

She moved over away from me to the door, rubbing her eyes, still not quite awake.

 

I just casually started chatting my victim up.

 

My foremost intention was in keeping her attention diverted from discovering her missing jewels and purse till after we got home and I had had time to hide it!

 

She managed to say a few words, but the time between those words got long and longer, till she fell back to sleep, lulled in again by the motion of our car.

 

Forced to be satisfied with what I had, and still happy with the revenge that would soon be mine, I now comfortably settled back into my seat.

  

I looked over my sister’s now almost jewel less ( damn the brooch) , blissfully sleeping figure, and soon drifted off to join her in happy dreams of my own!!

  

I woke from deep sleep as we arrived back at our house after the 90 minute ride back from the county.

 

My parents got out and tasked me with waking my still sleeping sister , ( not always a pleasant task by any means, even to this day I bear the scars(smiles)), and then pushing her up to bed.

 

^^^^

We live in a split level. An attached garage was converted by a former owner into a master bedroom. This is where my parents would be heading. The other end, with its staircase leading upstairs was where I had to drag my sister. The three bedrooms and bath upstairs were our domain. Each of us having our own bedroom, and the third room was employed as a playroom/sewing room.

^^^^

 

I began to shake her awake, which, true to form, she rather grumpily tried to fight off.

 

Finally I just went to the other side and began to pull her out. She slowly, most painstakingly woke herself up and was able to manage finishing getting out on her own.

 

Leaning against me, still half awake, I helped her up the walk and led her inside the house. All the while snickering that she had no clue that her purse and other valuables were gone, hidden in my pocket, right under her very eyes!

 

At some point my sister had rebuttoned her velvet jacket, which helped my deception play out immensely.

 

Especially since once me dad had helped mum off with her faux mink jacket, she had come over and given us each a kiss goodnight. Her necklace, the twin to my sisters , still was glittering around her throat.

 

If either parental unit had noticed the my sisters missing jewels, I would have had some fast explaining how they came in my passion, and would have lost any hint of revenge. And it was my week to mow the bloody lawn !

  

Now feeling rather cocky as both parents left us alone, I went over to gallantly helped Sis, who had unbuttoned her velvet jacket, slip off it off , and hung it up for her.

 

She turned towards me on the first step thanking me. I accepted, secretly looking over her pretty gowned figure that I had so deviously stripped bare of its pretty ornaments, except of course that cursed taunting brooch, which was still freely dangling about at the sashed waistline of my sister’s gown!!

 

Turning off the downstairs lights, I followed my sister’s swishing progress ahead of me up the stairs.

 

I saw the unwary victim of my thievery to her room, across from mine, seeing her inside, as I closed the door behind her.

 

I went to my room, closed my own door and breathed a sigh of relief.

 

Perfect I thought, saying under my breath, Game set and Match!

 

Figuring she should come knocking anytime now once she discovered her missing jewels as she was undressing, I laid out on my bed, still in my suit , and waited with eager anticipation till she did.

 

My thoughts went to a week without assorted chores, including mowing any lawns. Starting with tomorrow. No wait, tomorrow was Sunday. We were on our own , sis and I after morning Church. Our parents were leaving for the big city, shopping, a movie than dinner out to celebrate an early anniversary,, coming back in at around ten that evening.

 

My eyes opened, a deviously delicious thought had come creeping into my mind.

 

Give my twin a choice, my week’s chores, or spend Sunday after the parents leave playing the damsel to my thief!

 

We had played similar games before, my sister being a huge fan of robbing hood as she called Robin Hood, as well as our take on cops n Robbers, and something she came up with called “Help me Honey!” A game where I would have dual roles; she would direct me into placing her in peril, then have me come as a hero to rescue the damsel from the peril she had me put her in!

 

She could wear the same gown, her jewels, and her black velvet jacket with it if we went outside to the woods. Or better yet, mums mink would still be here ( Sis was always trying it on) !

  

I mulled over this for some time, while waiting for the expected knock to come….

 

I must have fallen asleep, for I was awakened when the timid knock was finally made at my door.

 

It was 2:35 in the bloody morning!

 

I rolled out of bed and opened my door.

 

She was standing there ,rubbing her eyes and yawning. I could see her opened door across the hall, light spilling out.

 

She was also still clad in her elegant gown, looking like a half awakened princess .

 

And there it was, her twinkling brooch. It still dangled from its position on the sash at her waist. Its’ frenzied sparkles appeared to be mocking my failure at taking it along with the rest of its’ mates!

 

She hadn’t even made it past the bed in her room before falling unconscious upon it fully clothed !!

 

What’s up I asked, a bit grumpily, for I had all but forgotten what mischief I had been at.

 

“My jewels ?” she said miserably, “Their missing!”

 

“Are you sure?” I asked

 

That made her think a few seconds before answering, her still gloved hand feeling a diamond necklace and earrings that definitely were no longer sparkling there like they had been earlier .

 

“Yes I am sure they are gone !” she said rather miserably.

  

“You took them off twit, probably still on your dresser. Now go to back to bed ! “ I answered paternally , just wanting to do the same myself.

 

“No,” she said, forlornly shaking her head, “I went right to bed without taking anything off atoll, didn’t I, and she spread out her luxurious gown.

 

“ I’ve looked everywhere!” She pleaded.

 

“Was your window opened?” I asked, finally awake enough to tease.

 

“Yes, I always do, why?” she questioned.

 

“You fell asleep steal wearing your jewels!” I pointed out…

 

“Maybe a burglar broke in and took them off you as you slept?” I stated, as I reached over and pointed at the place her necklace had been dangling upon.” Looks like he picked you over clean now !”

 

“No” she said, again shaking her head, “there was no burglar, and besides no thief could do something like that, I would’ve been woken up !”

 

“I don’t know” I answered thoughtful, “Someone obviously got the whole lot off you, without you noticing !”

 

She shivered, “No there was no thief!” she still insisted…

 

“Lets go and see” I said, and had her turn, followed her swishy gown clad figure back to her room.

 

I asked if she had checked around the bed, she nodded yes. Check again I commanded and she obediently began looking.

 

As she did I went over to her opened window, and swiftly slipped her purse, still holding her jewels, from my jacket pocket and placed it out on the ledge. Rather forgetting my old plans, as a deviously new one developed, to make her believe a burglar had been in her room.

 

Sounds rather mean I know, but I was not fully awake enough to really reason out that aspect!

 

“You ninny I said, here is your purse ! “ She swished over to my side, and I pointed down.

 

She reached down and retrieved it, feeling its new heft, she opened it, revealing her sparkling jewels.

 

She than just stared up at me, disbelief in her sad puppy like eyes.

 

“Here now ,” I said, “let me show you, Go lay back on your bed” I instructed !

 

She submissively did so, slipping back up and looking at me blinking from her pillow.

 

She looked all the world like a sad forlorn young princess , like she did when I played her game with her.

 

I turned out her lights, laid the purse down beside her, then went to the opened window.

 

A stream of light from the moon lit up her bed, I could see her clearly as she lay there.

 

“This is what probably happened Sis…”

  

“The burglar came in through this window” I mimicked it..

 

“ He saw you there asleep , and came over for a closer peek.”

 

I moved in, and saw her shiver as I approached, her whole begowned figure moving as she inched up away from my menacing dark shadowy figure…..

“He saw you were wearing jewels, and decided that he certainly must have them for himself.” ,

 

My sister had shrunk back as I approached.

 

“He reached along, and began to..

 

My fingers had glided up along her quivering figure till I had reached her waist, where I then lifted up her brooch.

 

“He than steals your…”

 

She cut me off… “There was no thief! “she insisted her eyes wide, but I could see the beginning of doubt creeping in her voice.”

 

“That cannot happen, burglars cannot take jewels like that , not with out waking a person up!” she tried to argue, herself half believing it may have happened like that!..

  

Ignoring her protests, , I picked up the purse from where I dropped it, went back to the window.

  

“You must have startled him and he dropped the goods as he was leaving, and an ran off!”

 

She had turned white as a ghost, trying to disbelieve in my words.

 

“No, it didn’t happen, couldn’t !” she vainly still trying on insisting my scenarios away.

 

“Tell you what lets try an experiment “ . I suggested as I turned back on the lights.

 

I laid the opened purse down beside her, jewels inside dimly glimmering .

 

“Put your jewels back on then, go to back bed, and in a couple of hours once you are back asleep I will come in and ….Li”

 

“No” she said, cutting me off… “I still don’t….” then she stopped talking as she saw the smirk on my face

 

“Your right!” I said assuring her qualms ,”There was no thief. It was me, I took em and put them there.”

 

“You took them, you turd “she scolded, WHEN..HOW?” she directly appealed in a rather fetchingly imploring way…as she raised her arms up to me to help her up.

 

“Every thief has their secrets luv” I said, as she slipped off from the bed and stood looking up at me, then let out a rather wide Yawn..

 

I was looking her still begowned figure over, her brooch the only jewel left, still putting on a rather dazzling show as she finished her relaxing yawn, I realized just how long a day it’d been, and just how tired we both were.

 

It had, actually been a quite long event filled day!

 

“Maybe I’ll tell in the morning, its late, lets get you off to bed !” I said, and she leaned happily up against me, I wrapped my arms around her warm, slippery figure.

 

“Good night Sis “ I said and kissed her on the forehead, then started to leave.

 

“Good night Baby brother” , she said smirking, as she reached back behind her with gloved hands fumbling to undo the tied bow of her gowns’ sash…

 

“Here,” I said, “please allow me.”

  

I went up behind her, as she turned to allow me access to the satin bow tied at the back of her svelte waiste.

 

She giggled as I pulled her bow, making her move back closer to me, as I worked on loosening the satin bows knot.

 

“I am so glad you have reformed Mr thief, I can feel safe wearing my jewels around you !” she said with another giggle, as I pulled the bow apart,

letting the loose ends dangle freely down.

 

“Indeed, so you can! “ I said assuringly, my hands wrapping around her waist to give her a hug.

“And I owe it all to you!” I said into her ear.

 

“There now ” I said as released her with a gentle push moving her towards the dresser. “to bed with you”

 

“Good night sir” she said facing away, bending over to open a drawer.

 

I back up alongside her bed, stopping to watch her a minute as she fumbled around in the open drawer.

 

“Good night “ I echoed, watched as she turned to face me with a swish. Holding a silky nightdress in a gloved hand.

 

She just smiled at me as I left, closing her door behind me.

 

I stood with my back to her closed door, grinning…

 

I opened my left hand, looking down with satisfaction at the sparkling brooch I had easily lifted from her pretty gown while hugging her after untying her bow.

 

So much for reformation!

 

I then pulled her unclasped purse , boldly reclaimed from its perch on her bed, from my jacket pocket and slipped the newly acquired brooch inside to join the rest of her purloined jewels…

 

I congratulated myself, my mind already traveling to tomorrow, Sunday, and the stealing prospects it promised to bring.

 

I began to walk away from her door, stopping suddenly I turned and looked back.

 

I whispered out to the closed door…

Addressing my unseen sister on the other side, who would have finally removed by now her quite pretty lavender brides maids gown and exchanged it with her sleeping attire..

 

“ Lessons Learned Luv!” I whispered with devious intent, taking on my character for tomorrow .

 

“ Never trust a thief , and don’t ever turn your pretty back to one!”

  

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

Gilligan’s Island,

Season 3

The Kidnapper with Don Rickles

 

April 24, 2016. ©Copyright 2016 Karlton Huber Photography - all rights reserved.

 

I arrived at 445AM and quickly exited my vehicle full of excitement. I've been looking forward to doing another early morning shoot here for several weeks and finally was able to pull it off.

 

The sky was clear and still dark enough for the lights to stand out and pop nicely. A breeze cold enough to require a fleece jacket blew onshore from the blackness that still concealed the vast ocean to my right. Working by head-lamp, pausing occasionally to sip hot coffee from my Yeti mug (thanks Tom) while savoring the peacefulness that this time of morning brings. Methodically, I created several compositions which I will share over time.

 

Looking back at town from the bluffs above the beach. I love this time of day!

   

By Monkey Bird

FIAC Hors les Murs (Paris, 10/2014)

 

Monkey Bird Crew developed out of the association of 2 Young artists, Temor and The Blow. The Monkey Bird Crew has the original ambition of restoring spectres of an animal of the Anonymous walls of the metropolises, wich engulf them with their unquestioning supremacy. Interrogating the notions of freedom and inacceccible private property, theirillegal interventions murmur an Anonymous philosophy via monumental images. Fuelling their inspiration with etchings, signs, and cosmopolitain calligraphies, The Monkey Bird Crew seeks a universal dialect filled with methodical lines and redundant symbols.

Tides in Alaska are frequently in excess of 19 feet leaving large portions of the inlet coast open for clamming by natives. A native takes advantage of the low tide digging and consuming mollusks at a methodical pace. For these bears it’s dinner with a view of wild and open country that is remains relatively pristine. #BrownBears

 

Gang-gang Cockatoo (male)

Callocephalon fimbriatum

 

May 8th, 2010

Croydon, Victoria, Australia

 

Olympus E620

Olympus 70-300mm f4-5.6 Zuiko ED lens

 

One of my very first images of a wild bird, taken in the front yard of a property on a busy suburban highway. A small flock of these beautiful Gang-gang Cockatoos were busy feeding on these Cottoneaster berries, methodically breaking open each berry to retrieve the seed inside.