View allAll Photos Tagged nonexistent
Geometrically, Spaceship Earth is a pentakis dodecahedron, with each of the 60 isosceles triangle faces divided into 16 smaller equilateral triangles (with a bit of fudging to make it rounder). Each of those 960 flat panels is sub-divided into four triangles, each of which is divided into three isosceles triangles to form each point. In theory, there are 11,520 total isosceles triangles forming 3840 points. In reality, some of those triangles are partially or fully nonexistent due to supports and doors; there are actually only 11,324 of them, with 954 partial or full flat panels.
The cladding was designed so that when it rains, no water pours off the sides onto the ground. (All water is "absorbed" through one inch gaps in the facets and is collected in a gutter system - and finally channeled into the World Showcase Lagoon.)
Maybe you're not overseeing limpness. The Virmaxryn may confirm that you basically don't get as amped up for sex any more. Or then again, that you don't have the essentialness for it. Conceivably your sex drive is essentially nonexistent. Taking everything into account, don't pressure. Virmaxryn Pills can help with the total of that, too. Extremely, there's nothing about your introduction this customary condition can't deal with. It uses clinically showed home developed fixings that have been around for a serious long time. Old Asian medications have used them by and large to fix each piece of men's presentation and sexual prosperity. Furthermore, by and by you can get this riddle condition for yourself legitimately here, right now. Thusly, you'll be feeling dynamically like yourself in bed right away! Tap underneath to get a low Virmaxryn Cost and endeavor this before it's gone!Click Here www.emailmeform.com/builder/emf/officialwebsites/Virmaxry...
Sidney Woodruff, graduate student, talks about the data they will be recording and how it helps with her research with Emily Phillips (blue), a ecology graduate student, Natalia Younan (pink), a wildlife and fish coservation major, Raaghav Sexena, animal biology major, and Catelyn Bylsma (grey), evolution, ecology and biodiversity major, in the Arboretum on June 8, 2022.
The project involves assisting Dr. Brian Todd and Ph.D. Student Sidney Woodruff in a research study evaluating how native species respond to the removal of non-native species and waterway restoration. The research objectives are to investigate the abundance and population demography of the native Western pond turtle (Actineymys marmorata) and population response in growth and demography from the removal of non-native red-eared sliders. Natural populations of the Western pond turtle are found in the UC Davis Arboretum where red-eared sliders occupy the same ecological niche in high densities. Natural populations of Western pond turtles are found in the nearby South Fork of Putah Creek where the presence of non-native turtles is extremely low or nonexistent. This work can highlight the importance of waterway restoration in building a more resilient ecosystem while supporting the recovery and conservation of native species.
Providing this opportunity will allow undergraduate students to be involved in wildlife conservation research under the supervision of a graduate student mentor and PI while also supporting the objectives of this study and the restoration of the UC Davis Arboretum.
Part way along the Eagle trail, trail itself was nonexistent. Hounds scrambled up the rocks to avoid being washed out to sea. A few were not so lucky though.
Leeville, Louisiana
on Bayou LaFourche
LaFourche Parish
Some of the greatest fishing is right here.
Leeville was settled by flood victims. On October 1, 1893, a hurricane wiped out the area's main settlement, Caminadaville, which sat on a spit of land bordered on three sides by the Gulf and on the fourth by swamp. Nearly half of Caminadaville's inhabitants perished in the storm, most by drowning, some when the buildings they had taken refuge in collapsed.
Survivors sailed up the bayou in their damaged canots and began buying land from an orange-grower named Peter Lee, who was selling plots for $12.50 each. For sixteen years, they fished, planted rice, and held fais do-do dancing parties in homes with covered verandas.
Then, in 1909, the Leeville Hurricane struck. (A contemporary newspaper account described survivors of that storm subsisting on drowned rabbit.) Six years later, a third hurricane forced residents to flee north once more. According to local legend, the storm surge carried one house from Leeville nine miles inland. The owner simply bought the plot underneath it and moved back in.
In the nineteen-thirties, Leeville rebounded briefly. Oil was discovered in the area, and by the end of the decade there were ninety-eight producing wells in town. The pay was good and regulation nonexistent. Blowouts routinely rained sulfur and brine onto the houses, into the cisterns, over the trees. Tin roofs corroded and vegetable gardens shrivelled up. When the wells ran dry, oil production moved offshore and Leeville was again deserted.
There were no more jobs, and the town itself had begun to wash away. Where once men in straw hats picked oranges and harvested rice, today there is mostly open water.
from: www.accessmylibrary.com/coms2/summary_0286-15339115_ITM
When love us nonexistent: Aesha Mohammadzai had her nose and ears cut off by husband and father-in-law after serving 5 months in Taliban jail. She tried to leave her husband.
Originally built between 1793 and 1797 during the Second Spanish Period, this Spanish Colonial and Neoclassical-style cathedral is the fourth church to occupy a prominent position at the heart of the city of St. Augustine. The original church, built of flammable materials, stood from 1565 until 1586, when it was burned during an attack by English Privateer Sir Francis Drake. Not even a year later, the church was rebuilt of palm logs, with a straw roof, which succumbed to fire in 1599. In 1605, thanks to a tithe from Spain, a timber church was constructed, which stood until a failed English attack on the city in 1702 by James Moore, then-governor of Carolina colony. There were attempts to rebuild the church during the First Spanish Period, starting in 1707, but these went nowhere, and the money intended for the church’s reconstruction were misallocated by corrupt officials. Instead, during the remainder of the First Spanish Period, mass was held in the St. Augustine Hospital. Following the transfer of governance of Florida to the British in 1763, the need for a new Catholic church was nonexistent, as the catholic population of the colony fled to other Spanish colonies. At the start of the Second Spanish Period in 1784, the need for a new church became more apparent, and work on the current cathedral’s Coquina stone walls began in 1793. The facade of the church features Neoclassical elements around the front doorway, with the Spanish Colonial style being employed on the roofline and limited fenestration on the front facade. The church stood in its original configuration until a fire in 1887 destroyed the timber roof structure and did major damage to the interior. Following the fire, Henry Flagler led the effort to have the cathedral rebuilt, with James Renwick, Jr. designing an expansion of the old building, giving it a rectangular cruciform layout, and adding the Spanish Renaissance-style bell tower and European-style transept to the building. The interior was rebuilt to feature exposed decorative timbers that supported the roof structure, and a decorative polychromatic tile floor. The building has since received a few more additions, which house a chapel, service areas, and offices, as well as a building to the rear of the cathedral along Treasury Street, built in the Mediterranean Revival style, which houses the offices of the Diocese of St. Augustine. Today, the cathedral remains a prominent landmark in the city, and was listed on the National Register of Historic Places and listed as a National Historic Landmark as part of the St. Augustine Town Plan Historic District in 1970.
[image: image.png]
[image: image.png]
[image: image.png]
[image: image.png]
Stewart
On Jan 29, 2013, at 11:20 AM, Jeffrey Warren
wrote:
iOS screenshot pls!!
On Tue, Jan 29, 2013 at 2:17 PM, Stewart Long
wrote:
> Very exciting updates. The archive page looks great in iOS. It is
> excellent to see the global map of maps as well!
>
>
> On Mon, Jan 28, 2013 at 8:38 PM, Jeffrey Warren > wrote:
>
>> Also, a revision to the archive front page:
>> alpha.publiclaboratory.org/archive
>>
>>
>> On Mon, Jan 28, 2013 at 10:16 PM, Jeffrey Warren > jeff@publiclaboratory.org> wrote:
>>
>>> I made the search look through note/wiki body, not just titles, and the
>>> search seems much more robust. I'd start using it instead of the regular
>>> site now!
>>>
>>> Also unlike before if you search for a term, or look for a tag, where
>>> that term or tag does not exist, it now tells you so nicely and suggests
>>> how you should search for it.
>>>
>>> Thirdly, it now prompts you to create a wiki page if you go to a page
>>> which doesn't exist yet. Although of course for now you cannot actually
>>> create one, it's a dummy page.
>>>
>>> I've been working a little on getting the actual login system working so
>>> we could start creating real content on the new site... ! But its going to
>>> be a busy month so it may go slowly. We'd probably start with tagging and
>>> commenting.
>>>
>>> Jeff
>>>
>>>
>> --
>> You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups
>> "plots-alpha" group.
>> To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an
>> email to plots-alpha+unsubscribe@googlegroups.com.
>> To post to this group, send email to plots-alpha@googlegroups.com.
>> For more options, visit groups.google.com/groups/opt_out.
>>
>>
>>
>
> --
> You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups
> "plots-alpha" group.
> To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an
> email to plots-alpha+unsubscribe@googlegroups.com.
> To post to this group, send email to plots-alpha@googlegroups.com.
> For more options, visit groups.google.com/groups/opt_out.
>
>
>
--
You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups
"plots-alpha" group.
To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an
email to plots-alpha+unsubscribe@googlegroups.com.
To post to this group, send email to plots-alpha@googlegroups.com.
For more options, visit groups.google.com/groups/opt_out.
--
You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups
"plots-alpha" group.
To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an
email to plots-alpha+unsubscribe@googlegroups.com.
To post to this group, send email to plots-alpha@googlegroups.com.
For more options, visit groups.google.com/groups/opt_out.
When love is nonexistent: Aesha Mohammadzai had her nose and ears cut off by husband and father-in-law after serving 5 months in Taliban jail. She tried to leave her husband.
Originally built between 1793 and 1797 during the Second Spanish Period, this Spanish Colonial and Neoclassical-style cathedral is the fourth church to occupy a prominent position at the heart of the city of St. Augustine. The original church, built of flammable materials, stood from 1565 until 1586, when it was burned during an attack by English Privateer Sir Francis Drake. Not even a year later, the church was rebuilt of palm logs, with a straw roof, which succumbed to fire in 1599. In 1605, thanks to a tithe from Spain, a timber church was constructed, which stood until a failed English attack on the city in 1702 by James Moore, then-governor of Carolina colony. There were attempts to rebuild the church during the First Spanish Period, starting in 1707, but these went nowhere, and the money intended for the church’s reconstruction were misallocated by corrupt officials. Instead, during the remainder of the First Spanish Period, mass was held in the St. Augustine Hospital. Following the transfer of governance of Florida to the British in 1763, the need for a new Catholic church was nonexistent, as the catholic population of the colony fled to other Spanish colonies. At the start of the Second Spanish Period in 1784, the need for a new church became more apparent, and work on the current cathedral’s Coquina stone walls began in 1793. The facade of the church features Neoclassical elements around the front doorway, with the Spanish Colonial style being employed on the roofline and limited fenestration on the front facade. The church stood in its original configuration until a fire in 1887 destroyed the timber roof structure and did major damage to the interior. Following the fire, Henry Flagler led the effort to have the cathedral rebuilt, with James Renwick, Jr. designing an expansion of the old building, giving it a rectangular cruciform layout, and adding the Spanish Renaissance-style bell tower and European-style transept to the building. The interior was rebuilt to feature exposed decorative timbers that supported the roof structure, and a decorative polychromatic tile floor. The building has since received a few more additions, which house a chapel, service areas, and offices, as well as a building to the rear of the cathedral along Treasury Street, built in the Mediterranean Revival style, which houses the offices of the Diocese of St. Augustine. Today, the cathedral remains a prominent landmark in the city, and was listed on the National Register of Historic Places and listed as a National Historic Landmark as part of the St. Augustine Town Plan Historic District in 1970.
Here's another paring chisel, this time from the small and nowadays nonexistent Finnish maker Billnäs Bruk. It was a very nice find, not because the steel is so special but because Billnäs chisels are very seldom seen. This one is a good performer and works well enough but the steel is clearly not on par with the Berg chisels.
Stivan, a small settlement on Adriatic Sea island Cres in Kvarner bay, is an almost abandoned place. Incredibly stony ground, almost nonexistent arable soil, not close enough to the sea shore to be of interest for tourists, offers little to survive. Some old fig trees and olive trees and sheep, this is all one can rely on. But it is situated in a great landscape, in an open, rather flat (as the whole south part of the island) Mediterranean landscape, harsh, wind-swept and sunny, with mild spring and autumn climate and hot summers. Yet, 200 years ago men was capable not only to survive here but also to live full lives and to build large stony farmhouses like this one on my pictures. Now it is a ruin worth nothing, defeated by time and overtaken by Wulfen's Spurge (Euphorbia wulfeni).
Originally built between 1793 and 1797 during the Second Spanish Period, this Spanish Colonial and Neoclassical-style cathedral is the fourth church to occupy a prominent position at the heart of the city of St. Augustine. The original church, built of flammable materials, stood from 1565 until 1586, when it was burned during an attack by English Privateer Sir Francis Drake. Not even a year later, the church was rebuilt of palm logs, with a straw roof, which succumbed to fire in 1599. In 1605, thanks to a tithe from Spain, a timber church was constructed, which stood until a failed English attack on the city in 1702 by James Moore, then-governor of Carolina colony. There were attempts to rebuild the church during the First Spanish Period, starting in 1707, but these went nowhere, and the money intended for the church’s reconstruction were misallocated by corrupt officials. Instead, during the remainder of the First Spanish Period, mass was held in the St. Augustine Hospital. Following the transfer of governance of Florida to the British in 1763, the need for a new Catholic church was nonexistent, as the catholic population of the colony fled to other Spanish colonies. At the start of the Second Spanish Period in 1784, the need for a new church became more apparent, and work on the current cathedral’s Coquina stone walls began in 1793. The facade of the church features Neoclassical elements around the front doorway, with the Spanish Colonial style being employed on the roofline and limited fenestration on the front facade. The church stood in its original configuration until a fire in 1887 destroyed the timber roof structure and did major damage to the interior. Following the fire, Henry Flagler led the effort to have the cathedral rebuilt, with James Renwick, Jr. designing an expansion of the old building, giving it a rectangular cruciform layout, and adding the Spanish Renaissance-style bell tower and European-style transept to the building. The interior was rebuilt to feature exposed decorative timbers that supported the roof structure, and a decorative polychromatic tile floor. The building has since received a few more additions, which house a chapel, service areas, and offices, as well as a building to the rear of the cathedral along Treasury Street, built in the Mediterranean Revival style, which houses the offices of the Diocese of St. Augustine. Today, the cathedral remains a prominent landmark in the city, and was listed on the National Register of Historic Places and listed as a National Historic Landmark as part of the St. Augustine Town Plan Historic District in 1970.
2012, Sept. 20 - Killeen, Texas
Thursday, I quit being "almost 40" and am now "in my 40s". Wow.
Pictured here is one of the gifts I received, the LumiQuest Softbox III, which attaches perfeft to my LumoPro LP160 flash unit.
(I almost always use bounce flash, bouncing off the ceiling, but there are times when the ceiling is either (a) too high, (b) wrong color, or (c) nonexistent, and I wanted something to help soften the direct flash.
It folds flat, which is really nice.
Copyright © 2012 by Wil C. Fry. All Rights Reserved.
Please do not post group icons, "awards" or unrelated image files.
Please do not use/repost this image without my permission.
I'm gobsmacked by several things here. First, the light was nonexistent. Yet the Sony A7RII performed extremely well at incredibly high ISO. Second, using knowledge developed around a digital Zone System, I knew precisely where I wanted the tonal values and was able to place them accordingly. Third, I am happy to confirm the dynamic range of the sensor extends usefully to below Zone 0 (Zone -2!), even at such high ISO settings. Fourth, 1950s German optics can do the trick. These images were made using a triplet wide angle. Who would design such a thing and make it work? Micro-contrast is something to be seen, otherwise you wouldn't believe it.
What happens when you graduate from college, only to find that jobs are practically nonexistent and your best friends aren't what they seem? Meet Julian, Mason, Perry and Nika: Four old friends who reunite after college graduation.
Originally built between 1793 and 1797 during the Second Spanish Period, this Spanish Colonial and Neoclassical-style cathedral is the fourth church to occupy a prominent position at the heart of the city of St. Augustine. The original church, built of flammable materials, stood from 1565 until 1586, when it was burned during an attack by English Privateer Sir Francis Drake. Not even a year later, the church was rebuilt of palm logs, with a straw roof, which succumbed to fire in 1599. In 1605, thanks to a tithe from Spain, a timber church was constructed, which stood until a failed English attack on the city in 1702 by James Moore, then-governor of Carolina colony. There were attempts to rebuild the church during the First Spanish Period, starting in 1707, but these went nowhere, and the money intended for the church’s reconstruction were misallocated by corrupt officials. Instead, during the remainder of the First Spanish Period, mass was held in the St. Augustine Hospital. Following the transfer of governance of Florida to the British in 1763, the need for a new Catholic church was nonexistent, as the catholic population of the colony fled to other Spanish colonies. At the start of the Second Spanish Period in 1784, the need for a new church became more apparent, and work on the current cathedral’s Coquina stone walls began in 1793. The facade of the church features Neoclassical elements around the front doorway, with the Spanish Colonial style being employed on the roofline and limited fenestration on the front facade. The church stood in its original configuration until a fire in 1887 destroyed the timber roof structure and did major damage to the interior. Following the fire, Henry Flagler led the effort to have the cathedral rebuilt, with James Renwick, Jr. designing an expansion of the old building, giving it a rectangular cruciform layout, and adding the Spanish Renaissance-style bell tower and European-style transept to the building. The interior was rebuilt to feature exposed decorative timbers that supported the roof structure, and a decorative polychromatic tile floor. The building has since received a few more additions, which house a chapel, service areas, and offices, as well as a building to the rear of the cathedral along Treasury Street, built in the Mediterranean Revival style, which houses the offices of the Diocese of St. Augustine. Today, the cathedral remains a prominent landmark in the city, and was listed on the National Register of Historic Places and listed as a National Historic Landmark as part of the St. Augustine Town Plan Historic District in 1970.
I'm gobsmacked by several things here. First, the light was nonexistent. Yet the Sony A7RII performed extremely well at incredibly high ISO. Second, using knowledge developed around a digital Zone System, I knew precisely where I wanted the tonal values and was able to place them accordingly. Third, I am happy to confirm the dynamic range of the sensor extends usefully to below Zone 0 (Zone -2!), even at such high ISO settings. Fourth, 1950s German optics can do the trick. These images were made using a triplet wide angle. Who would design such a thing and make it work? Micro-contrast is something to be seen, otherwise you wouldn't believe it.
Leeville, Louisiana
on Bayou LaFourche
LaFourche Parish
Some of the greatest fishing is right here.
Leeville was settled by flood victims. On October 1, 1893, a hurricane wiped out the area's main settlement, Caminadaville, which sat on a spit of land bordered on three sides by the Gulf and on the fourth by swamp. Nearly half of Caminadaville's inhabitants perished in the storm, most by drowning, some when the buildings they had taken refuge in collapsed.
Survivors sailed up the bayou in their damaged canots and began buying land from an orange-grower named Peter Lee, who was selling plots for $12.50 each. For sixteen years, they fished, planted rice, and held fais do-do dancing parties in homes with covered verandas.
Then, in 1909, the Leeville Hurricane struck. (A contemporary newspaper account described survivors of that storm subsisting on drowned rabbit.) Six years later, a third hurricane forced residents to flee north once more. According to local legend, the storm surge carried one house from Leeville nine miles inland. The owner simply bought the plot underneath it and moved back in.
In the nineteen-thirties, Leeville rebounded briefly. Oil was discovered in the area, and by the end of the decade there were ninety-eight producing wells in town. The pay was good and regulation nonexistent. Blowouts routinely rained sulfur and brine onto the houses, into the cisterns, over the trees. Tin roofs corroded and vegetable gardens shrivelled up. When the wells ran dry, oil production moved offshore and Leeville was again deserted.
There were no more jobs, and the town itself had begun to wash away. Where once men in straw hats picked oranges and harvested rice, today there is mostly open water.
from: www.accessmylibrary.com/coms2/summary_0286-15339115_ITM
Originally built between 1793 and 1797 during the Second Spanish Period, this Spanish Colonial and Neoclassical-style cathedral is the fourth church to occupy a prominent position at the heart of the city of St. Augustine. The original church, built of flammable materials, stood from 1565 until 1586, when it was burned during an attack by English Privateer Sir Francis Drake. Not even a year later, the church was rebuilt of palm logs, with a straw roof, which succumbed to fire in 1599. In 1605, thanks to a tithe from Spain, a timber church was constructed, which stood until a failed English attack on the city in 1702 by James Moore, then-governor of Carolina colony. There were attempts to rebuild the church during the First Spanish Period, starting in 1707, but these went nowhere, and the money intended for the church’s reconstruction were misallocated by corrupt officials. Instead, during the remainder of the First Spanish Period, mass was held in the St. Augustine Hospital. Following the transfer of governance of Florida to the British in 1763, the need for a new Catholic church was nonexistent, as the catholic population of the colony fled to other Spanish colonies. At the start of the Second Spanish Period in 1784, the need for a new church became more apparent, and work on the current cathedral’s Coquina stone walls began in 1793. The facade of the church features Neoclassical elements around the front doorway, with the Spanish Colonial style being employed on the roofline and limited fenestration on the front facade. The church stood in its original configuration until a fire in 1887 destroyed the timber roof structure and did major damage to the interior. Following the fire, Henry Flagler led the effort to have the cathedral rebuilt, with James Renwick, Jr. designing an expansion of the old building, giving it a rectangular cruciform layout, and adding the Spanish Renaissance-style bell tower and European-style transept to the building. The interior was rebuilt to feature exposed decorative timbers that supported the roof structure, and a decorative polychromatic tile floor. The building has since received a few more additions, which house a chapel, service areas, and offices, as well as a building to the rear of the cathedral along Treasury Street, built in the Mediterranean Revival style, which houses the offices of the Diocese of St. Augustine. Today, the cathedral remains a prominent landmark in the city, and was listed on the National Register of Historic Places and listed as a National Historic Landmark as part of the St. Augustine Town Plan Historic District in 1970.
Originally built between 1793 and 1797 during the Second Spanish Period, this Spanish Colonial and Neoclassical-style cathedral is the fourth church to occupy a prominent position at the heart of the city of St. Augustine. The original church, built of flammable materials, stood from 1565 until 1586, when it was burned during an attack by English Privateer Sir Francis Drake. Not even a year later, the church was rebuilt of palm logs, with a straw roof, which succumbed to fire in 1599. In 1605, thanks to a tithe from Spain, a timber church was constructed, which stood until a failed English attack on the city in 1702 by James Moore, then-governor of Carolina colony. There were attempts to rebuild the church during the First Spanish Period, starting in 1707, but these went nowhere, and the money intended for the church’s reconstruction were misallocated by corrupt officials. Instead, during the remainder of the First Spanish Period, mass was held in the St. Augustine Hospital. Following the transfer of governance of Florida to the British in 1763, the need for a new Catholic church was nonexistent, as the catholic population of the colony fled to other Spanish colonies. At the start of the Second Spanish Period in 1784, the need for a new church became more apparent, and work on the current cathedral’s Coquina stone walls began in 1793. The facade of the church features Neoclassical elements around the front doorway, with the Spanish Colonial style being employed on the roofline and limited fenestration on the front facade. The church stood in its original configuration until a fire in 1887 destroyed the timber roof structure and did major damage to the interior. Following the fire, Henry Flagler led the effort to have the cathedral rebuilt, with James Renwick, Jr. designing an expansion of the old building, giving it a rectangular cruciform layout, and adding the Spanish Renaissance-style bell tower and European-style transept to the building. The interior was rebuilt to feature exposed decorative timbers that supported the roof structure, and a decorative polychromatic tile floor. The building has since received a few more additions, which house a chapel, service areas, and offices, as well as a building to the rear of the cathedral along Treasury Street, built in the Mediterranean Revival style, which houses the offices of the Diocese of St. Augustine. Today, the cathedral remains a prominent landmark in the city, and was listed on the National Register of Historic Places and listed as a National Historic Landmark as part of the St. Augustine Town Plan Historic District in 1970.
Originally built between 1793 and 1797 during the Second Spanish Period, this Spanish Colonial and Neoclassical-style cathedral is the fourth church to occupy a prominent position at the heart of the city of St. Augustine. The original church, built of flammable materials, stood from 1565 until 1586, when it was burned during an attack by English Privateer Sir Francis Drake. Not even a year later, the church was rebuilt of palm logs, with a straw roof, which succumbed to fire in 1599. In 1605, thanks to a tithe from Spain, a timber church was constructed, which stood until a failed English attack on the city in 1702 by James Moore, then-governor of Carolina colony. There were attempts to rebuild the church during the First Spanish Period, starting in 1707, but these went nowhere, and the money intended for the church’s reconstruction were misallocated by corrupt officials. Instead, during the remainder of the First Spanish Period, mass was held in the St. Augustine Hospital. Following the transfer of governance of Florida to the British in 1763, the need for a new Catholic church was nonexistent, as the catholic population of the colony fled to other Spanish colonies. At the start of the Second Spanish Period in 1784, the need for a new church became more apparent, and work on the current cathedral’s Coquina stone walls began in 1793. The facade of the church features Neoclassical elements around the front doorway, with the Spanish Colonial style being employed on the roofline and limited fenestration on the front facade. The church stood in its original configuration until a fire in 1887 destroyed the timber roof structure and did major damage to the interior. Following the fire, Henry Flagler led the effort to have the cathedral rebuilt, with James Renwick, Jr. designing an expansion of the old building, giving it a rectangular cruciform layout, and adding the Spanish Renaissance-style bell tower and European-style transept to the building. The interior was rebuilt to feature exposed decorative timbers that supported the roof structure, and a decorative polychromatic tile floor. The building has since received a few more additions, which house a chapel, service areas, and offices, as well as a building to the rear of the cathedral along Treasury Street, built in the Mediterranean Revival style, which houses the offices of the Diocese of St. Augustine. Today, the cathedral remains a prominent landmark in the city, and was listed on the National Register of Historic Places and listed as a National Historic Landmark as part of the St. Augustine Town Plan Historic District in 1970.
I went down to Old Saybrook to try to get some pre-hurricane photos. Unfortunately, I did not plan my trip well: sky was gray, tide was low and waves were nonexistent. Oh well! I would have thanked this family for wearing such brightly colored clothes, but I didn't think they would understand...
This Stromberg WA3-219 ("Model W") 1bbl carburetor was original equipment as a production option to the Carter BBS and Holley 1920 on 1963 (only) Dodge and Plymouth B-body (only) cars with 225 engine and automatic transmission (only). No variant of this carb was used on any other year or model. I don't know why this was done, nor does it make any sense for Chrysler to have spent what must have been an enormous sum in tooling for such a low-volume carburetor. Was there some kind of a strike at Carter and/or Holley that reduced the available volume of carburetors? It is worth noting that this carb has the largest venturi of any 1bbl used as factory equipment on a slant-6. I've tried a few of these over the years, but have never gotten one to run quite right. Kits and parts are almost nonexistent.
This is my first image out of my Nikon D600 that I have been able to edit directly in RAW/Lightroom.
RAW support is only in beta, so don't expect much... shadow recovery is pretty much nonexistent. But, lens correction is back again, and it's wonderful to be back into an efficient workflow.
This is a park bench on the Songhees walkway in Victoria's Inner Harbour. I didn't expect to catch the end of this sunset, so you can really spot the banding in the sky that resulted from pushing the exposure (rather than pushing the shadows).
One of the flamingos thinks that this drain cover is a nest and guards it for most of the day, sometimes regirgitating food to feed the nonexistent babies in the "nest". Flamingos build mud nests which I guess could potentially look like this drain cover so I can sort of see why it is exhibiting this behavior.
www.flickr.com/photos/fkalltheway/2481588667/
The nests look sort-of like the ones in this photo, although I believe that these ones are actually man-made because they are too perfect and not hollowed out like an actual flamingo nest.
MSH 06/08: # 13 - Usually I can't cook, but...
Originally built between 1793 and 1797 during the Second Spanish Period, this Spanish Colonial and Neoclassical-style cathedral is the fourth church to occupy a prominent position at the heart of the city of St. Augustine. The original church, built of flammable materials, stood from 1565 until 1586, when it was burned during an attack by English Privateer Sir Francis Drake. Not even a year later, the church was rebuilt of palm logs, with a straw roof, which succumbed to fire in 1599. In 1605, thanks to a tithe from Spain, a timber church was constructed, which stood until a failed English attack on the city in 1702 by James Moore, then-governor of Carolina colony. There were attempts to rebuild the church during the First Spanish Period, starting in 1707, but these went nowhere, and the money intended for the church’s reconstruction were misallocated by corrupt officials. Instead, during the remainder of the First Spanish Period, mass was held in the St. Augustine Hospital. Following the transfer of governance of Florida to the British in 1763, the need for a new Catholic church was nonexistent, as the catholic population of the colony fled to other Spanish colonies. At the start of the Second Spanish Period in 1784, the need for a new church became more apparent, and work on the current cathedral’s Coquina stone walls began in 1793. The facade of the church features Neoclassical elements around the front doorway, with the Spanish Colonial style being employed on the roofline and limited fenestration on the front facade. The church stood in its original configuration until a fire in 1887 destroyed the timber roof structure and did major damage to the interior. Following the fire, Henry Flagler led the effort to have the cathedral rebuilt, with James Renwick, Jr. designing an expansion of the old building, giving it a rectangular cruciform layout, and adding the Spanish Renaissance-style bell tower and European-style transept to the building. The interior was rebuilt to feature exposed decorative timbers that supported the roof structure, and a decorative polychromatic tile floor. The building has since received a few more additions, which house a chapel, service areas, and offices, as well as a building to the rear of the cathedral along Treasury Street, built in the Mediterranean Revival style, which houses the offices of the Diocese of St. Augustine. Today, the cathedral remains a prominent landmark in the city, and was listed on the National Register of Historic Places and listed as a National Historic Landmark as part of the St. Augustine Town Plan Historic District in 1970.
I love this pic, btw
1. I LOVE the city
2. I'm a vegetarian- no meat/seafood for me
3. I LOVE animals and will protect all of them, even bugs
4. I'm afraid of bugs, so when there is one near me and someone is close to it I usually say something like
'OMIGAWD IT'S A SPIDER!!!!! AAAH A SPIDER!!! NO WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?! DON'T KILL IT!!!! OMG IT'S A SPIIDDEEEEEERRRRRR!!!!!!!!!! *cries*'
5. In case you haven’t noticed, i'm a *little* bit arachnophobic
6. I have most green things
7. I don't read/watch much manga/anime, but it's awesome anyways
8. My friends are my world, and my world is nonexistent without my friends
9. I am EXTREAMLY loyal, you hurt someone I love, you hurt me- I also take hurt very, very personally
10. New York City is my favorite place IN THE WORLD
11. Singing/music is my passion; I hope to someday be a singer/musician
12. I also love writing and reading, but writing is better
13. I love my dolls, but my mom finds them creepy... ^.^;
14. I’m so glad I joined flickr and met all you awesome people
15. I make up and use word like amazingfull, prettyfull, and hurted
16. i should be doing English homework right now...
17. I love cats and ferrets and have both
18. I have like 100 characters, I only RP a few though
19. Monster High is better then all other dolls (excepting Pullip/TY/Dal/Byul of course)
20. My favorite T.V. show is Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but I love all things Tim Burton and Joss Whedon. I also love Angel, Red Dwarf, Wonder Falls, and Pushing Daisies.
Mendon Ponds Park is owned and very poorly maintained by the County of Monroe, NY.
Unfortunately, this extraordinary property is rapidly deteriorating due to an egregious lack of care. Trails are not cleared of debris... signs are useless. Park maintenance is essentially nonexistent. They do have a marketing department. Seriously, the taxpayers are paying the salaries of a county parks marketing department.
Email Mendon Ponds Park complaints to: countyexecutive@monroecounty.gov
If this dead-end street extended 100 feet farther to the west (map), New York City would have another classic intersection to add to its collection: Lava and Vulcan.
Actually, the intersection does exist on paper, if not in reality. Even though the western portion of Lava Street is physically nonexistent, a look at the city's tax map reveals that Lava Street, as a legal entity, does indeed connect through to Vulcan Street.
Leeville, Louisiana
on Bayou LaFourche
LaFourche Parish
Some of the greatest fishing is right here.
Leeville was settled by flood victims. On October 1, 1893, a hurricane wiped out the area's main settlement, Caminadaville, which sat on a spit of land bordered on three sides by the Gulf and on the fourth by swamp. Nearly half of Caminadaville's inhabitants perished in the storm, most by drowning, some when the buildings they had taken refuge in collapsed.
Survivors sailed up the bayou in their damaged canots and began buying land from an orange-grower named Peter Lee, who was selling plots for $12.50 each. For sixteen years, they fished, planted rice, and held fais do-do dancing parties in homes with covered verandas.
Then, in 1909, the Leeville Hurricane struck. (A contemporary newspaper account described survivors of that storm subsisting on drowned rabbit.) Six years later, a third hurricane forced residents to flee north once more. According to local legend, the storm surge carried one house from Leeville nine miles inland. The owner simply bought the plot underneath it and moved back in.
In the nineteen-thirties, Leeville rebounded briefly. Oil was discovered in the area, and by the end of the decade there were ninety-eight producing wells in town. The pay was good and regulation nonexistent. Blowouts routinely rained sulfur and brine onto the houses, into the cisterns, over the trees. Tin roofs corroded and vegetable gardens shrivelled up. When the wells ran dry, oil production moved offshore and Leeville was again deserted.
There were no more jobs, and the town itself had begun to wash away. Where once men in straw hats picked oranges and harvested rice, today there is mostly open water.
from: www.accessmylibrary.com/coms2/summary_0286-15339115_ITM
Same as previous one. Sorry, I am unable to Id them as literature is almost nonexistent and if it does, keys, description and drawings are too generic or I cant catch the point :S
Natalia Younan (pink), a wildlife and fish coservation major, gather the sex of the Red Eat Slider for Sidney Woodruff's research in the Arboretum on June 8, 2022.
The project involves assisting Dr. Brian Todd and Ph.D. Student Sidney Woodruff in a research study evaluating how native species respond to the removal of non-native species and waterway restoration. The research objectives are to investigate the abundance and population demography of the native Western pond turtle (Actineymys marmorata) and population response in growth and demography from the removal of non-native red-eared sliders. Natural populations of the Western pond turtle are found in the UC Davis Arboretum where red-eared sliders occupy the same ecological niche in high densities. Natural populations of Western pond turtles are found in the nearby South Fork of Putah Creek where the presence of non-native turtles is extremely low or nonexistent. This work can highlight the importance of waterway restoration in building a more resilient ecosystem while supporting the recovery and conservation of native species.
Providing this opportunity will allow undergraduate students to be involved in wildlife conservation research under the supervision of a graduate student mentor and PI while also supporting the objectives of this study and the restoration of the UC Davis Arboretum.
365photocaptures.blogspot.com/
This is the aftermath of magnesium oxide (MgO) burning. It was done at UW Photo Club today. It kind of looks like a poster for an anti-smoking campaign or something. It wasn't intentional.
fama.us.es/discovery/fulldisplay?docid=alma99101288518970...
Despite the fact that the vast majority of the earth’s surface is made up of oceans, there has been surprisingly little work by geographers which critically examines the ocean-space and our knowledge and perceptions of it. This book employs a broad conceptual and methodological framework to analyse specific events that have contributed to the production of geographical knowledge about the ocean. These include, but are not limited to, Christopher Columbus’ first transatlantic journey, the mapping of nonexistent islands, the establishment of transoceanic trade routes, the discovery of largescale water movements, the HMS Challenger expedition, the search for the elusive Terra Australis Incognita, the formulation of the theory of continental drift and the mapping of the seabed.
Using a combination of original, empirical (archival, material and cartographic), and theoretical sources, this book uniquely brings together fascinating narratives throughout history to produce a representation and mapping of geographical oceanic knowledge. It questions how we know what we know about the oceans and how this knowledge is represented and mapped. The book then uses this representation and mapping as a way to coherently trace the evolution of oceanic spatial awareness.
In recent years, particularly in historical geography, discovering and knowing the ocean-space has been a completely separate enterprise from discovering and colonising the lands beyond it. There has been such focus on studying colonised lands, yet the oceans between them have been neglected. This book gives the geographical ocean a voice to be acknowledged as a space where history, geography and indeed historical geography took place.
Leeville, Louisiana
on Bayou LaFourche
LaFourche Parish
Leeville was settled by flood victims. On October 1, 1893, a hurricane wiped out the area's main settlement, Caminadaville, which sat on a spit of land bordered on three sides by the Gulf and on the fourth by swamp. Nearly half of Caminadaville's inhabitants perished in the storm, most by drowning, some when the buildings they had taken refuge in collapsed.
Survivors sailed up the bayou in their damaged canots and began buying land from an orange-grower named Peter Lee, who was selling plots for $12.50 each. For sixteen years, they fished, planted rice, and held fais do-do dancing parties in homes with covered verandas.
Then, in 1909, the Leeville Hurricane struck. (A contemporary newspaper account described survivors of that storm subsisting on drowned rabbit.) Six years later, a third hurricane forced residents to flee north once more. According to local legend, the storm surge carried one house from Leeville nine miles inland. The owner simply bought the plot underneath it and moved back in.
In the nineteen-thirties, Leeville rebounded briefly. Oil was discovered in the area, and by the end of the decade there were ninety-eight producing wells in town. The pay was good and regulation nonexistent. Blowouts routinely rained sulfur and brine onto the houses, into the cisterns, over the trees. Tin roofs corroded and vegetable gardens shrivelled up. When the wells ran dry, oil production moved offshore and Leeville was again deserted.
There were no more jobs, and the town itself had begun to wash away. Where once men in straw hats picked oranges and harvested rice, today there is mostly open water.
from: www.accessmylibrary.com/coms2/summary_0286-15339115_ITM
Originally built between 1793 and 1797 during the Second Spanish Period, this Spanish Colonial and Neoclassical-style cathedral is the fourth church to occupy a prominent position at the heart of the city of St. Augustine. The original church, built of flammable materials, stood from 1565 until 1586, when it was burned during an attack by English Privateer Sir Francis Drake. Not even a year later, the church was rebuilt of palm logs, with a straw roof, which succumbed to fire in 1599. In 1605, thanks to a tithe from Spain, a timber church was constructed, which stood until a failed English attack on the city in 1702 by James Moore, then-governor of Carolina colony. There were attempts to rebuild the church during the First Spanish Period, starting in 1707, but these went nowhere, and the money intended for the church’s reconstruction were misallocated by corrupt officials. Instead, during the remainder of the First Spanish Period, mass was held in the St. Augustine Hospital. Following the transfer of governance of Florida to the British in 1763, the need for a new Catholic church was nonexistent, as the catholic population of the colony fled to other Spanish colonies. At the start of the Second Spanish Period in 1784, the need for a new church became more apparent, and work on the current cathedral’s Coquina stone walls began in 1793. The facade of the church features Neoclassical elements around the front doorway, with the Spanish Colonial style being employed on the roofline and limited fenestration on the front facade. The church stood in its original configuration until a fire in 1887 destroyed the timber roof structure and did major damage to the interior. Following the fire, Henry Flagler led the effort to have the cathedral rebuilt, with James Renwick, Jr. designing an expansion of the old building, giving it a rectangular cruciform layout, and adding the Spanish Renaissance-style bell tower and European-style transept to the building. The interior was rebuilt to feature exposed decorative timbers that supported the roof structure, and a decorative polychromatic tile floor. The building has since received a few more additions, which house a chapel, service areas, and offices, as well as a building to the rear of the cathedral along Treasury Street, built in the Mediterranean Revival style, which houses the offices of the Diocese of St. Augustine. Today, the cathedral remains a prominent landmark in the city, and was listed on the National Register of Historic Places and listed as a National Historic Landmark as part of the St. Augustine Town Plan Historic District in 1970.
What happens when you shoot a frozen 2-liter bottle of water with a 30.06? We all had our own guesses but the results speak for themselves.
We know what happens when you shoot a block of ice, it shatters and pieces go everywhere.
Our first guess was that the plastic bottle would contain the ice and the bullet would pass straight through, shredding the majority of the ice within the bottle.
Our second guess was that the bottle was insignificant and would just split and behave like a block of ice.
The latter proved true. The result was a pile of shredded ice on the ground below the bottle. Interestingly, the bottle contained the remaining ice. Fractures near the top were nearly nonexistent.