View allAll Photos Tagged reckoning
Blackcap - Sylvia Atrcapilla (M)
Double click!
The Eurasian blackcap (Sylvia atricapilla) usually known simply as the blackcap, is a common and widespread typical warbler. It has mainly olive-grey upperparts and pale grey underparts, and differences between the five subspecies are small. Both sexes have a neat coloured cap to the head, black in the male and reddish-brown in the female. The male's typical song is a rich musical warbling, often ending in a loud high-pitched crescendo, but a simpler song is given in some isolated areas, such as valleys in the Alps. The blackcap's closest relative is the garden warbler, which looks quite different but has a similar song.
The blackcap feeds mainly on insects during the breeding season, then switches to fruit in late summer, the change being triggered by an internal biological rhythm. When migrants arrive on their territories they initially take berries, pollen and nectar if there are insufficient insects available, then soon switch to their preferred diet. They mainly pick prey off foliage and twigs, but may occasionally hover, flycatch or feed on the ground. Blackcaps eat a wide range of invertebrate prey, although aphids are particularly important early in the season, and flies, beetles and caterpillars are also taken in large numbers. Small snails are swallowed whole, since the shell is a source of calcium for the bird's eggs. Chicks are mainly fed soft-bodied insects, fruit only being provided if invertebrates are scarce.
In July, the diet switches increasingly to fruit. The protein needed for egg-laying and for the chicks to grow is replaced by fruit sugar which helps the birds to fatten for migration. Aphids are still taken while they are available, since they often contain sugars from the plant sap on which they feed. Blackcaps eat a wide range of small fruit, and squeeze out any seeds on a branch before consuming the pulp. This technique makes them an important propagator of mistletoe. The mistle thrush, which also favours that plant, is less beneficial since it tends to crush the seeds. Although any suitable fruit may be eaten, some have seasonal or local importance; elder makes up a large proportion of the diet of northern birds preparing for migration, and energy-rich olives and lentisc are favoured by blackcaps wintering in the Mediterranean.
The German birds wintering in British gardens rely on provided food, and the major items are bread and fat, each making up around 20% of the diet; one bird survived the whole winter eating only Christmas cake. Fruit is also eaten, notably cotoneaster (41% of the fruit consumed), ivy and honeysuckle, and apple if available. Some birds have learned to take peanuts from feeders. Blackcaps defend good winter food sources in the wild, and at garden feeding stations they repel competitors as large as starlings and blackbirds. Birds occasionally become tame enough to feed from the hand.
Aristotle, in his History of Animals, considered that the garden warbler eventually metamorphosed into a blackcap. The blackcap's song has led to it being described as the "mock nightingale" or "country nightingale", and John Clare, in "The March Nightingale" describes the listener as believing that the rarer species has arrived prematurely. "He stops his own and thinks the nightingale/Hath of her monthly reckoning counted wrong". The song is also the topic of Italian poet Giovanni Pascoli's "La Capinera" [The Blackcap].
Giovanni Verga's 1871 novel Storia di una capinera, according to its author, was inspired by a story of a blackcap trapped and caged by children. The bird, silent and pining for its lost freedom, eventually dies. In the book, a nun evacuated from her convent by cholera falls in love with a family friend, only to have to return to her confinement when the disease wanes. The novel was adapted as films of the same name in 1917, 1943 and 1993. The last version was directed by Franco Zeffirelli, and its English-language version was retitled as Sparrow. In Saint François d'Assise, an opera by Messiaen, the orchestration is based on bird song. St Francis himself is represented by the blackcap.
Folk names for the blackcap often refer to its most obvious plumage feature (black-headed peggy, King Harry black cap and coal hoodie) or to its song, as in the "nightingale" names above. Other old names are based on its choice of nesting material (Jack Straw, hay bird, hay chat and hay Jack). There is a tradition of the Royal Navy's Fleet Air Arm bases being named for birds. A former base near Stretton in Cheshire was called HMS Blackcap.
Population:
UK breeding:
1,200,000 territories
UK wintering:
3,000 bird
Explore July 22, 2021
I was in New Brighton watching these clouds move in over the industry on the bay in Liverpool, I felt like they were reminding me that the earth cannot be abused forever.
Peeblespair Website ~ Instagram
80
// Cold mist traverses the hillside as a pale white horse moves to crest the hill; sure in its knowing of what is to come.
The final days of October found me out shooting every single day. A strange confluence of weather, sky and autumn vibrant foliage brought forth a multitude of photo ops. This part of the season is so fleeting that it compels action lest the moment be lost. The absolute high point for me is when the ground is obscured with fallen leaves while some leaves remain on the trees. I love the visual distortion this creates, especially in areas where the eye expects to see green grass. There's also an intriguing reflective quality to fallen leaves that you don't get with lawn grass. It gives a feeling of luminance and adds depth to photos where the background would ordinarily tend to plug up in shadow. All that aside, it was the ominous sky that motivated me on this particular day. Low clouds, fast moving, and punctuated by occasional appearances of the sun. I was so bent on observing the sky that I walked right through this scene (coming from the background into the foreground) without fully appreciating it. Retracing my steps on the return trip brought me back into the same scene but from the opposite perspective. Before me was the epitome of an movie set piece, autumn in a cemetery. It was as if every single element had been carefully arranged. The opportunity would have gone unnoticed had I not turned a 180 and walked back through the scene. Perspective is everything. It's why I often stop photographing periodically during a shoot and try listening for that inner voice.
Created with Peace & Tranquility Bundle by G&T Designs, new at:- www.e-scapeandscrap.net/boutique/index.php?main_page=inde...
All textures, elements, papers and text blends are included within the kit.
The image is an illustration extracted from the cover of Colliers Weekly April 1912. Credit magazineart.org/main.php/v/massweeklies/colliersweekly/Co...
Thank you for your visit, views, faves, comments and generous invitations. I very much appreciate them all, thank you for your support.
My apologies for minimal comments on your images, house alterations and the resulting sporadic internet availability is the cause. Hopefully things will return to normal during the next week.......Hmmm!
"This is the great and terrifying truth about the creative life: Anything we make — all this longing for beauty and meaning, all these reckonings and raptures, these most passionate and personal fragments of being — is just a tiny seed compacting everything we are, blown into the wind that is the world."
- Maria Popova
Living Skies, final shot (for now). This time there is no horizon line; it's all sky. Although the tree does anchor the shot, in an odd way. It was a conscious choice to place the ascending Milky Way in the middle of the frame, and likewise the tree. In theory this should not work, but I find myself liking it. I considered cropping square or vertical; in the end, I like the fullness of the sky extending on both sides of the tree, and in imagination beyond the frame, to infinity.
To live a creative life you have to get over the fear of being wrong, of making mistakes; instead, you play with your materials, the things you love, and see what new relationships you can discover. You accomplish this not by following the so-called rules, but by throwing them away.
Tomorrow, the start of another small image set, this time highlighting not the sky but the land. That which nurtures us and keeps us connected. Somehow this simple fact has never been clearer to me than it is here, now, on the prairie. Is it the prairie itself or is it more my age, the culmination of a lifetime of observation and reflection? I don't know. I do know that when I walk this turf, I am connected.
Photographed in Grasslands National Park, Saskatchewan (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2023 James R. Page - all rights reserved.
We have gone past this barn with the old car quite a few times and I always admire it. I love seeing nature reclaim man-made things— aged, abandoned, damaged, forgotten,and left to rot. It’s all a unique kind of beautiful peace to me, a reckoning of nature that speaks to my soul.
Cold Reckoning and Hardened Beliefs.
Sometimes it's tough - a friend has strong heart felt powerful beliefs that they "know are right". But you know they are mistaken or misinformed.
Mid Devon, show
Tiverton, Devon, UK.
A seven-image Photohike series from Burg Eltz in Germany's Eifel region, created on an early September morning between dense mist, soft sunlight and ancient woodland.
I had come for the castle, hoping to make a photograph that was different from the countless images I had seen before. At the car park, I chose the longer route across the plateau. I kept calculating how much time I had left before the mist would disappear.
Along the way, I photographed quiet paths, morning light and small details that seemed secondary to my destination. By the time I reached the castle, the mist had almost gone. Only later, looking through my photographs at home, did I begin to recognise what I had found along the way.
Months later, I understood something else: my pursuit of a special photograph was not so different from the trophy pictures I had criticised in others.
The accompanying Photohike essay, Die Rechnung, is available in German on photohikers.de.
www.photohikers.de/post/die-rechnung-photohike-burg-eltz
✧ ✧ ✧
Eine siebenteilige Photohike-Serie von Burg Eltz in der Eifel, entstanden an einem frühen Septembermorgen zwischen dichtem Nebel, sanftem Morgenlicht und alten Wäldern.
Ich war wegen der Burg gekommen. Ich wollte ein eigenes Bild von einem Motiv schaffen, das schon tausendfach fotografiert worden war. Am Parkplatz entschied ich mich für den langen Weg über die Hochfläche und rechnete weiter, wie viel Zeit mir bis zum Verschwinden des Nebels blieb.
Unterwegs fotografierte ich stille Wege, Morgenlicht und kleine Entdeckungen, die mir zunächst nebensächlich erschienen. Als ich die Burg erreichte, war der Nebel fast verschwunden. Erst beim Sichten der Fotografien zu Hause begann ich zu erkennen, was mir unterwegs gelungen war.
Monate später begriff ich noch etwas anderes: Meine Jagd nach dem besonderen Bild war dem Wunsch nach einem fotografischen Beweis, den ich bei anderen kritisiert hatte, gar nicht so unähnlich.
Der vollständige Photohike-Essay „Die Rechnung“ ist auf photohikers.de zu lesen.
...from the archives... Almost that time again.
This guy was lurking around outside while I was at a birthday party for my nephew. He was not pleased when I asked if I could take his photo. Perhaps street photography is not for me. He also insisted that I vote for him next Tuesday.
Day of Reckoning (Burnin' for You) - Robbie Robertson
www.youtube.com/watch?v=bRNG1tVidno
In this dusty little railroad town
Smack in the heart of the bible belt
Where nothing ever changes
And nothing remains the same
When first I saw the raven
Lean against the wind
I said
Who's that girl
With the tattoo on her skin
I followed her home
Lives down by the water
My friend Teddy told me
She's the Frenchman's daughter
On this day of reckoning
I'm riding shotgun with you
Yeah you
Tangled twisted strands of love
Hanging from above I'm burnin' for you
Ooh I'm burnin' for you
Oh we were first time lovers
In a secret rendezvous
Burnin' burnin'Burnin'Burnin' for you
When I come knocking on her front door
The neighbour said she don't live there no more
Well she moved from the country down to the city
Where the scene is dark and the street are gritty
In the hustle and bustle and all the commotion
She got addicted to the locomotion
On this day of reckoning
By the old wooden bridge
I wait for you
Tangled twisted strands of love
Hanging from above I'm burnin' for you
Ooh I'm burnin' for you
Oh we were first time lovers
In a secret rendezvous
I'm burnin'Burnin'Burnin'Burnin' for you
I remember the smell of the burning leaves
And we were making love
She was like a young Georgia O'Keefe
From another time
In an old abandoned railroad shack
One should never go
Where anything can happen
When the Zephyr blows
On this day of reckoning
I'm calling for you
Yeah you
Tangled twisted strands of love
Hanging from above I'm burnin' for you
Ooh I'm burnin' for you
Oh we were first time lovers
In a secret rendezvous
I'm burnin'Burnin'Burnin'Burnin' for you
The phone rings
She said I can't tell you where I'm calling from
'Cause my papa's on the lam
For something shady that he's done
There hangs a tale of love
For the first time
For the first time
As it happens in all of my shoots, I just explain the main story and concept, find the place and then start the shooting. The rest I always leave to the model. I dont like to interrupt the model; I want her to be a part, to add her own story to the shooting.
This is the newest John Grisham novel that will be released in October. That is my photo on the jacket. I'm really excited!
Thanks, Flickr!
Red-shouldered Hawk (Buteo lineatus)
Watson Mill Bridge State Park, Georgia, U.S.A.
In a matter of minutes, I witnessed a stunning display of nature’s raw efficiency. A Red-shouldered Hawk suddenly sprang from its perch and struck the ground. As it lifted its head, a small lizard was clutched firmly in its beak. Without hesitation, the hawk swallowed it and returned to another branch.
But the hunt wasn’t over. As I quietly approached for a better shot, the hawk launched again, landing in nearly the same exact spot. When it lifted its head again, it was now holding a large Ring-necked Snake! This entire episode happened in the span of just a few minutes.
Note: If you're curious, the snake captured is a large Ring-necked Snake (Diadophis punctatus).
Here is another image I captured:
He stands with hands on hips, bold and defiant, facing the void as if daring it to blink first. But the ground tells a different story. The shadow he casts is not his own - or rather, not the self he wears now. It is the child he once was. The one who stood in the same pose, fists clenched not in power, but in wonder.
The adult figure is all posture. All armor. But the shadow is raw. Curious. Unafraid to ask why the clouds look like dragons or whether the wind remembers your name.
This is not a glitch of light. It’s a reckoning.
The image is a portal: the man is standing at the edge of forgetting, and the child-shadow is pulling him back. Not to innocence, but to origin. To the moment he first named the stars. To the first time he danced without music. To the first time he believed that stories could save him.
The cloudy textures above? They’re not weather. They’re memory storms. The kind that roll in when you’re about to remember who you were before the world taught you to pose.
This is a reminder that every silhouette is stitched from choices, losses, and the quiet ache of becoming.
As the day folded in silence, the sky erupted in one final reckoning — not of wrath, but of beauty too vast to contain. From the black pines to the burning clouds, every layer remembered the sun by fire.
Captured from the highest edge of the forest, just before the insects claimed the night.
Kensal Green Anglican Chapel and Catacombs.
Finally able to get close to this, after it being fenced off for some years, prior to it being used as a location for the latest Mission Impossible movie - The Final Reckoning.
I have walked through fire.
I have drowned in silence.
I have stood where the sky split open
and the earth forgot my name.
I have been broken.
I have been bent.
I have been buried.
But I did not vanish.
I did not yield.
I did not die.
I endured.
And now -
now the storm comes again,
howling, clawing, certain of its dominion.
But it does not know.
It does not see.
I am not the same.
I am not the man who knelt.
I am not the voice that trembled.
I am not the silence that waited.
I am the answer.
I am the reckoning.
I am the storm’s undoing.
I have endured the storm.
And now -
the storm must endure me.
I'm sure you'll remember, when Kithaba was on his way to meet the Sand People. Her only weapon in the negotiations was fire. Although, it is said that the Sand People are well equipped when it comes to weapons, this time they were afraid.
Previously in this series: Day of Reckoning, Traces to Nowhere and Fire Walk with Me.
I've been playing with this exact frame roughly from the day I shoot it. It's interesting frame that looks a bit like it's from the cinematic cartoon magazine(!). At least, there are some certain elements that backs my humble theory. Personally I'm very proud of that torch, as it's all in-camera and there are no digital effects used to bring this scene alive.