View allAll Photos Tagged muster
cambridge, massachusetts
july 1975
bicentennial re-enactment, cambridge common
200th anniversary of george washington taking command of the continental army
part of an archival project, featuring the photographs of nick dewolf
© the Nick DeWolf Foundation
Image-use requests are welcome via flickrmail or nickdewolfphotoarchive [at] gmail [dot] com
Morning muster rounding up the Perrindale Ewe's and their lambs for drenching and docking of the lambs tails.
Adult male as found on a palm leaf overhanging a small creek. Despite a few spits of rain, this and other males couldn't muster a decent chorus to call the females in.
Selva Verde Rainforest Lodge, Costa Rica
Visit to the June 20, 2015 Motor Muster at Greenfield Village in Dearborn, Michigan. This car show takes place every Father's Day weekend and features vehicles built between 1933 and the late 1970's. I attended with my flickr contact Grant, who was visiting Michigan from his home in California.
All of my classic car photos can be found here: Car Collections
Press "L" for a larger image on black.
My Instagram link - www.instagram.com/sanhita_bhattacharjee_86/
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© All rights reserved According to CopyRight Law, Please don't copy, edit or use this image on websites, blogs or other media. However if you are interested in using any of my images, please feel free to contact with me .
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Photographer :-
© Sanhita Bhattacharjee
Kalyanpur,Tripura (India)
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The June 18, 2016 Motor Muster at Greenfield Village in Dearborn, Michigan.
All of my classic car photos can be found here: Car Collections
Press "L" for a larger image on black.
Jim Stevenson in the late afternoon December 1995 droving the cattle to St James along the Clarence Valley Road. Original on Agfa colour film 100 ISO.
Aus der Serie: www.holozaen.de/2012/01/14/gabriella-strumpfhosen-mode-sc...
Wenn Frauen in Strumpfhosen einen netten Abend auf der Couch verbringen, kann das sehr lustig werden.
Annual muster roundup for the Perrindale Ewe's & lambs for drenching & lamb tail docking on this beautiful vast remote sheep & drystock farm. The Ewe's & lambs hide amongst the tall grass rushes, spotting high up on the horses makes it easier to see them.
Visit to the June 20, 2015 Motor Muster at Greenfield Village in Dearborn, Michigan. This car show takes place every Father's Day weekend and features vehicles built between 1933 and the late 1970's. I attended with my flickr contact Grant, who was visiting Michigan from his home in California.
All of my classic car photos can be found here: Car Collections
Press "L" for a larger image on black.
Moving a flock of sheep on Ben Avon Station, Ahuriri Valley, New Zealand. Huxley Range in the background.
© All Rights Reserved. This image may not be copied, reproduced, distributed, republished, downloaded, displayed, posted, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, and recording without my written consent.
Here is an excerpt from my Journal entry on this day in 2018, for those who would share my travel adventures. Sometimes a picture doesn't tell the whole story ....
This morning we took a Shinkansen train from Tokyo west to Toyama. Here we changed to a local train to Takayama and then changed to a bus for a one hour ride to our hotel in Ryokan. We are staying at the Ryokan Hodakaso Sanganoyu hot springs hotel. Nishi San (our Japanese guide) gave us a long talk on the etiquette of naked bathing in the hot springs, and how to conduct ourselves in a traditional Japanese hotel.
We were greeted when we arrived at this most traditional of Japanese hotels tucked away in the snow capped hills of rural Japan. Being a traditional Japanese hotel, we took off our shoes in an anti-room when we entered the building. The anti-room had two floor levels, on the lower of these we removed our shoes which staff took the instant they left our feet. Only then could we step the 4 or 5 cm up to the higher level. On this level we walked in our socks through to the reception area where dozens of pairs of identical slippers were laid out in rows, women to the left, men to the right.
The slippers ranged in size from rather small to enormous. I couldn't be bothered looking for a suitable sized pair, I slipped my feet into the first medium sized pair I saw. These slippers were to be worn when walking anywhere in the hotel. I soon discovered all the slippers are left footed, and even the best fitting of them do not fit. They are uncomfortable to wear, I must concentrate just to keep them on my feet, walking is therefore both deliberate and slow. They are also a trip hazard.
Togged up in our new footwear we discovered the hotel hadn’t prepared for our arrival. There were no straight answers to the simplest of questions. We stood around like cows waiting to be milked, but the milking machine seemed to be broken. Eventually a time for dinner was agreed, and our room numbers were read out; there we would find our room keys. Mine was room 506.
The protocol upon entering our room is to remove the killer slippers in a small anti-room just inside the door. As with the anti-room at the entrance to the hotel, the floor had two levels. Slippers had to be removed and left on the lower level. From there we proceed in our socks, or bare foot, on the raised level. There were also slippers in the toilet, these were to be worn while sitting on the toilet, but must remain in the toilet and were not to be worn anywhere else in the hotel room.
I arrived at my room in time to see a man and woman from our tour group entering room 506. The man, Joe, a big guy with a bulbous alcoholic nose and personality to match, was quite put out at seeing me. He protested and returned to reception in a huff, leaving the room to me.
An aged and stooping Japanese woman in a kimono came to the room. She didn’t speak much English, but she had two problems with me, first I hadn’t removed my slippers on entering the room, and secondly I seemed to be alone. The slipper faux pas resolved, she disappeared, leaving me to settle into an essentially empty couple of rooms.
Barely had I surveyed my stark surrounds when there came a heavy banging at the door. Expecting the Slipper Police, I was relieved to see Bulbous nose and his timid little wife filling the door frame. We had been double booked, there would be no ménage à trois, I was to report to room 507 where my futon and green tea were waiting.
Room 507 was a smaller suite, and just as starkly furnished. In the middle of a room was a low table and a chair with the cushion at floor level. Nishi San had instructed that the first thing we were to do was prepare green tea and drink it at the low table while seated on the impossibly low chair. It was never going to happen.
Before I had time to consider my options, the fearsome kimono granny burst into the room with three kimonos. Luckily for me, I was in my socks, she was one fearsome granny who I knew would have eaten the Big Bad Woolf and probably lay in wait for Little Red Ridinghood. She showed me the kimono sizes, 160, 170 and 180; I got the drift, which was my size? I settled on 170 and she left me in peace.
Unlike room 506, mine had a second small room with a low coffee table and two simple armchairs that were low by Western standards, but were at least above the floor. What a relief to actually have somewhere to sit, other than on the floor.
There was barely time to get settled into my room before I had to report to the dining room for dinner. Nishi San had already instructed us in the wearing of a kimono, so I togged up in the kimono the fearsome granny had brought earlier, and made my way to the dining room. Here Kimono Granny lay in wait, I had by now renamed her The Kimono Dragon. Nobody’s dress passed muster, Dragon Lady corrected and adjusted everybody’s dress. I had only passed the sash once around my waist, and that would never do, she wrapped it twice around me and pulled it in tight.
Fortunately she didn't notice, or ignored, that I was wearing a T-shirt, and she never inspected to see if I was wearing any underwear. On this occasion I'd taken the liberty of keeping mine on, but one never knows in a place where nude bathing is customary, if not de rigueur.
We were seated at individual tables, rather like kindergarten kids, and sat on chairs that were much too low at desks that were as low as they were small. There was a gas cooker sat in one corner of the table, on it was a metal bowl filled with simmering water. On the opposite corner a ceramic pot with lid, it sat above a small apparatus reminiscent of the cookers people once used in my childhood.
We were treated to dish after dish of appetisers that were never appetising. Plates of sliced meat and vegetables were brought to our tables, and we cooked our own unappetising steam boat dinner. Boiled rice was in the ceramic pot on the burning cooker.
(Continued on the following photo)