To Parnassus or the Scaffold
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The picture has notes. If you can't see them, going to lightbox and back again should do the trick. It's simply a Flickr quirk.
Zoom right in while on full screen, and roam around to discover, in detail, the extent of the damage.
The photo was taken in late November at the base of an oak tree. You can see the brown oak leaves in the top right-hand corner of the picture. These escaped the destruction while those scattered around on top of the nest had fallen after the event.
I found these 'ruins' of a nest in 2008 while walking the dogs along the river, only 100 yards from where we live. It was just a few months after my first encounter with an Asian hornet on the kitchen floor. The nest had been destroyed by local authorities in a desperate but somewhat futile attempt to curb the spread of this orangey yellow peril. The nest was virtually empty and would never have been reused!
It was this scene of utter devastation that sparked my interest in the Asian hornet. I must have taken nearly a million photos of them over the past three years. You see, if I think I've got one chance in a million of getting it right, then I do what any respectable Shadok would do and go for the million as fast as I can. So, since I haven't quite reached the million yet, there's still some hope - albeit very slight for the Gibi* that I am! :-(
* Gibi = GB (Great Briton) (ツ)
Take that little extra care my friends and many thanks for calling,
Colin ... (ツ)
Back to photo page : Out of Asia ...
they just know, and therefore, I've concluded weeds must have brains :-)
Dianne Benson, Dirt, 1994
HBM!!
queen butterfly, brookside gardens, wheaton, maryland
take exercise, get up early, or be respectable :-)
Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray, 1890
painted lady butterfly on coneflower, little theater garden, raleigh, north carolina
This photo was taken was taken at a respectable distance and cropped to get the distracting branches out of the way! My first priority is, and always has been, to not disrupt natural behaviour!
Chaque image a sa petite histoire et celle-ci n'échappe pas à la règle , en me rendant sur un de mes spots " passereaux " je m'engage dans le petit chemin et ce joli spécimen était juché en haut d'un talus , me voyant arriver sur place il a eu la bonne idée de s'aplatir pensant que je ne le verrai pas , arrivé à 40 mètres il a préféré passer de l'autre côté du talus , ni une ni deux je me suis garé à distance respectable ( 20 mètres ) j'ai mis le filet de camouflage devant la portière de mon carrosse et j'ai attendu sagement qu'il revienne , l'attente ne fût pas bien longue , une vingtaine de minutes et il a repris sa vie de Faisan en restant quasi deux bonnes heures à gratter la terre et parader en haut de son talus , bilan 656 images et des bons souvenirs .
PS : toute demande de partage avec un groupe sera rejetée sur le champ , je ne désire aucune publicité sur mon travail ( j'ai largement passé l'âge de recevoir des Oscars , des Bons Points et autres gamineries de ce genre ....) , merci de votre compréhension .
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Each image has its own story and this one is no exception to the rule, by going to one of my "passerine" spots I take the small path and this pretty specimen was perched on top of an embankment, seeing me arriving there he had the good idea to flatten thinking that I will not see him, arrived at 40 meters he preferred to pass on the other side of the slope, neither one nor two I parked at a respectable distance (20 meters) I put the camouflage net in front of the door of my coach and I waited wisely for it to come back, the wait was not very long, about twenty minutes and it resumed its life of Pheasant by staying almost two good hours to scrape and parade at the top of its slope, balance 656 images and good memories.
PS: any request to share with a group will be rejected immediately, I do not want any publicity on my work (I have largely passed the age of receiving Oscars, Good Points and other nonsense of this kind .... ) , thank you for your understanding .
** Photo d'archives : mai 2019 **
Chaque image a sa petite histoire et celle-ci n'échappe pas à la règle , en me rendant sur un de mes spots " passereaux " je m'engage dans le petit chemin et ce joli spécimen était juché en haut d'un talus , me voyant arriver sur place il a eu la bonne idée de s'aplatir pensant que je ne le verrai pas , arrivé à 40 mètres il a préféré passer de l'autre côté du talus , ni une ni deux je me suis garé à distance respectable ( 20 mètres ) j'ai mis le filet de camouflage devant la portière de mon carrosse et j'ai attendu sagement qu'il revienne , l'attente ne fût pas bien longue , une vingtaine de minutes et il a repris sa vie de Faisan en restant quasi deux bonnes heures à gratter la terre et parader en haut de son talus , bilan 656 images et des bons souvenirs .
Image prise en milieu naturel et depuis la portière de la voiture équipée du filet de camouflage .
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** Archive photo: May 2019 **
Each image has its own story and this one is no exception to the rule, by going to one of my "passerine" spots I take the small path and this pretty specimen was perched on top of an embankment, seeing me arriving there he had the good idea to flatten thinking that I will not see him, arrived at 40 meters he preferred to pass on the other side of the slope, neither one nor two I parked at a respectable distance (20 meters) I put the camouflage net in front of the door of my coach and I waited wisely for it to come back, the wait was not very long, about twenty minutes and it resumed its life of Pheasant by staying almost two good hours scratching the earth and parading at the top of its slope, results in 656 images and good memories.
Image taken in a natural environment and from the door of the car equipped with the camouflage net.
Yachts and motor boats on the territory of the Royal Yacht Club are the center of Moscow's yachting life, imbued with a European spirit and combining a modern yacht port, a unique coastal restaurant, spacious spectator stands, a cozy business center and DoubleTree by Hilton Moscow - Marina hotel.
Luxurious water recreation in the city, parking for ships from 6 to 40 meters, one of the best restaurants by Arkady Novikov, respectable apartments, complete infrastructure and security, as well as the highest standards of service - all this is Royal Yacht Club.
Royal Yacht Club is located on the territory of the Dynamo Water Stadium architectural monument, a 10-minute drive from the center of Moscow and 50 kilometers to the nearest gateway towards the region by water.
Young Jimmy shriveled under the gaze of his new Nanny. Something was not quite right about her.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ohNpf4VnlP8
Hotdog - Her respectable dress . Black Stripe
NEW @ ANTHEM
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Anthem/126/127/1107
DRD - Deadmore Cuffs - Coal
[XI] Mesh Victorian Eyeglasses
Undead Earring Dark Gem Edition
[PL] - Full Perm - Bowler Hat
DRD - MM3 - Mystery Mansion
The seesaw is characterized by the fact that the entire upper housing with tail can be rotated around a tube that is held in a vertical position by the pyramid-shaped construction of the lower tower. Although these mills look smaller because of their 'narrow waist', they often have respectable dimensions. Larger seesaws often have living space in the sub-tower.
The seesaw is almost always used as a polder mill, so to keep a polder dry.
Alaska's Virgin Creek falls has limited ways to capture it. It was a treacherous slippery drop to reach this level of the falls for this perspective. It would have been destructive to get any closer so glad to get this.
"Virgin Creek Falls: The nicest little waterfall hike in Alaska.
Hikes in Alaska don’t come any sweeter than Virgin Creek Falls. The falls are small but beautiful, and they generate a respectable roar as they come shooting into a misty, almost tropical-feeling grotto." hikingalaska.net
Have a wonderful Wednesday!
But The Secret Is Still My Own
. sponsor/s . lelutka, booty's beauty
—————
♥ lelutka » evolution line bento head-erin 1.2 [bom] ⁰
♥ t. wizardly » megan shape for lelutka evo. line //new// n/a
♥ booty's beauty » [lel. evo.] gentle tints hd lippy
+ booty's beauty » [lel. evo.] stardance hd eyeshadow
—————
🎧 heart → alone (live) ❥
. anatomy, makeup and hair .
(enfer sombre*) » lelutka skin, megan [bronze]
madame noir » lidia eyes pack
tram » j0428 hair
maitreya » mesh body lara 5.1 [bom]
. clothing .
hotdog » respectable dress
. accessories .
kunglers » inga necklace
*lode* » head accessory, royalty wreath [black horse]
. setup .
lelutka » axis hud face
lumipro » lumipro 18
. endnotes .
⁰ [bom] → see: bakes on mesh by jeremy linden
copyright © 2020 truth wizardly. all rights reserved.
// wednesday, may 13, 2020 7:46:28 am est
#stopthespread
#socialdistance
#physicaldistance
#shelterinplace
#staysafe
#playsafe
There's something in your eyes that says...maybe...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZqlvSDEhxoA
.pt. curious chapeau
Available soon at Anthem.
Anthem: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Anthem/126/127/1107
inworld curio shop: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Peculiar/116/121/33
marketplace curio shop: marketplace.secondlife.com/stores/213728
website: www.peculiarthings.online/
Wearing
.pt. curious chapeau - hat - fabric
Hotdog - Her Respectable Dress
Hotdog . Severed Head . Female
HOTDOG Conceited Pose
.pt. curious chapeau - hat - leather
Hotdog - Ringmistress . Waistcoat . Plain .
TC trifocal multi lens monocle
Hotdog - Severed head . male *RARE*
** Photo d'archives : mai 2019 **
Chaque image a sa petite histoire et celle-ci n'échappe pas à la règle , en me rendant sur un de mes spots " passereaux " je m'engage dans le petit chemin et ce joli spécimen était juché en haut d'un talus , me voyant arriver sur place il a eu la bonne idée de s'aplatir pensant que je ne le verrai pas , arrivé à 40 mètres il a préféré passer de l'autre côté du talus , ni une ni deux je me suis garé à distance respectable ( 20 mètres ) j'ai mis le filet de camouflage devant la portière de mon carrosse et j'ai attendu sagement qu'il revienne , l'attente ne fût pas bien longue , une vingtaine de minutes et il a repris sa vie de Faisan en restant quasi deux bonnes heures à gratter la terre et parader en haut de son talus .
Image prise en milieu naturel et depuis la portière de la voiture équipée du filet de camouflage .
PS : Un grand merci à toutes celles et ceux qui choisissent de regarder , de commenter et d'aimer mes photos . C'est très apprécié , comme vous l'avez constaté , je ne répond plus directement suite à votre commentaire juste pour dire en fait " merci et bonne journée " , mais en retour je passe laisser une petite trace chez vous sur une ou plusieurs de vos éditions . Merci de votre compréhension
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** File photo: May 2019 **
Each image has its own little story and this is no exception to the rule, by going to one of my "passerine" spots, I take the small path and this pretty specimen was perched on top of an embankment, seeing me arrive on the spot he had the good idea to flatten himself thinking that I will not see him, arrived at 40 meters he preferred to pass on the other side of the embankment, neither one nor two I parked at a respectable distance (20 meters) I put the camouflage net in front of the door of my coach and I waited wisely for him to come back, the wait was not very long, about twenty minutes and he resumed his life as a pheasant by remaining almost two good hours to scratch the ground and parade at the top of its embankment.
Image taken in a natural environment and from the car door fitted with the camouflage net.
PS: A big thank you to everyone who chooses to watch, comment and love my photos. It is very appreciated, as you noticed, I do not answer any more directly following your comment just to say in fact "thank you and good day", but in return I pass to leave a small mark with you on one or more of your editions. thank you for your understanding
This is the poetic name of this waterfall, one of the most beautiful waterfalls of the ascent to the Refuge de Sales.
Leaving at 1190m (3904 ft), the refuge is at 1870m (6135 ft), which makes already a respectable climb of 680m (2231 ft). We intended to eat at the refuge, then come back down quietly in the early afternoon, because my brother wanted to watch the arrival of the Tour de France on television around 4:30 p.m.
But between what we wanted to do and what we did, it hasn't been quite the same ...
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La Pleureuse
C'est le nom poétique de cette cascade, une des plus belles cascades de la montée au refuge de Sales.
Partis à 1190m, le refuge est à 1870m, cela fait déjà une belle montée de 690 m.
On avait l'intention de manger au refuge, puis de resdescendre tranquilement en début l'après-midi, car mon frère avait envie de regarder l'arrivée du Tour de France à la télévision vers 16h30.
Mais entre ce qu'on voulait faire et ce qu'on a fait, cela n'a pas tout à fait été pareil ...
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Salvagny - Haute-Savoie - France
Quand elle m'a vue elle a rapidement caché les poussins dans le nid. Je me suis arrêtée à distance respectable et, après quelques minutes, elle m'a laissé voir ses deux beaux poussins, juste quelques secondes, tout en gardant un oeil sur moi. M'a t'elle reconnue comme ne représentant pas un danger ? Je suis allée plusieurs fois voir ce nid et, cette fois, elle ne s'est pas envolée quand je suis passée sous le nid pour partir.
When she saw me, she quickly hide the chicks in he nest. I stopped at a respectable distance and, after a few minutes, she let me see for a few seconds her two lovely chicks while keeping an eye on me. Did she recognize me as not representing a danger ? I have been there many times. This day, she didn't fly away when I went under the nest to leave.
To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion, to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich; to study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly, to listen to stars and birds, to babes and sages, with open heart, to bear all cheerfully, to all bravely await occasions, hurry never. In a word, to let the spiritual unbidden and unconscious grow up through the common. This is to be my symphony. — William Henry Channing
Thank you Lawrence for inviting me to participate in this wonderful campaign! ♥
In the course of the centuries so much has been built, demolished and carpeted at Heeswijk Castle that medieval builders today would have great difficulty recognizing their castle. Heeswijk may be a construction history jumble, it is still a large, imposing and beautifully situated complex that can rightfully be considered as one of the important medieval castles of North Brabant.
To begin with, there is the respectable age of perhaps around 950 years. The history of Heeswijk Castle goes back at least to the first half of the twelfth century, and possibly even further, to the end of the eleventh century. First, a motteburcht arose on this site, that is to say an artificially raised hill, 6 to 7 meters high, between 25 and 30 meters in diameter and surrounded by a moat. A tufa stone reinforcement was built on that hill, probably in the form of a tower.
In the fourteenth century that tower was no longer sufficient. Then, in stages, the construction of the brick late-medieval castle began, of which considerable parts are still standing today.
However, Heeswijk is not only interesting because of its long history. Hein Hundertmark, who investigated the building history of the castle, points out that from that fourteenth-century rebuilding until well into the nineteenth century, Heeswijk was always at the forefront of architectural architecture. The owners and builders constantly led the way in adapting the castle to changing circumstances.
This applies to the ambitious fourteenth and fifteenth century construction phases, whereby the castle was adapted to, among other things, the development of gunpowder guns. But also for the sixteenth and seventeenth-century conversion of a defensible castle into a representative noble residence. All things considered, it is no less true of the romantic dream that inspired Baron Van den Bogaerde of Terbrugge and his sons in the nineteenth century to neo-gothic extensions and additions, including the incorporation of all kinds of building fragments into the exterior facades. Heeswijk also set a trend in this neo-gothic adaptation.
Only after the Second World War was this line of progressiveness broken. For the last owner, the architectural legacy of his nineteenth-century ancestors was an annoying "romantic madness." He wanted the castle to return to a sober medieval aesthetic. It is therefore all the more spicy that the restoration of Heeswijk, which had to bring about this, ended in a castle with a predominantly eighteenth-century appearance.
In 1949 Trevor Wilkinson made a line of hand-build vehicles under the name Trevcar Motors in Blackpool, England. Within a few years, the name was changed to TVR. By 1957 the TVR Company was producing the Jomar, a vehicle with a fiberglass body and a tubular steel chassis. This unique design led to the Grantura, Griffin, Tuscan, Vixen, and the M series. In 1965 when Martin Lilley, a Lotus and TVR dealer, purchased the company and brought back the TVR Engineering name along with three engine options. The 1.6-liter Ford 'Kent' engine the power plant for the 1600 M. The 3.0-liter Capri engine powered the 3000 M which was primarily for domestic sales. The 2500 M was powered by a 2498-cc inline-six from the TR6 and sold to America. The 2500 M made its world debut at the 1971 Earls Court Motor Show and it was instantly popular. The 2500M had a four-speed manual gearbox and differential which it borrowed from Triumph. The bodywork was similar to the early TVR models the hood was longer for more engine room. The six-cylinder engines with dual Stromberg CD-w carburetors produce a respectable 106 horsepower. Zero-to-sixty in just over 9 seconds with a top speed of nearly 120 mph. Disc brakes can be found in the front while drums are in the rear. What it lacked in power, it made up for in weight, short wheelbase, and superior handling. This baby drives like its on rails….
Production of the 2500M lasted until 1977. A small number of the TVR 2500M were made and if you can find one in great condition- it will run you about 20-50k depending on condition. With that begin said, you can own a drive a SUPER COOL sports car
There is a horrid native plant that grows abundantly in my garden - called Horsetail or Shavegrass. It is so far impossible to get rid of in my garden, having tried everything in my defensive arsenal. Perhaps it is time to bow to the persistence of this ancient plant which goes back 300 million years to the Devon era. If we were ever to have a nuclear holocaust which I don't even want to contemplate, I'm sure that this plant will survive! It does have herbal uses, but I don't even want to imagine that!! If only it didn't crowd out my wanted plants!!! The spore-bearing stalks are shown in this photo.
They know, they just know where to grow, how to dupe you, and how to camouflage themselves among the respectable plants, they just know, and therefore, I've concluded weeds must have brains." ~ Dianne Benson
"Sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste."
~ William Shakespeare
Little Jimmy didn't like to bother Nanny during her tea time. Especially when she had Nanny Deadmore as her guest and delicious Cherry Volevants. But Hilda, his baby sister, was turning an alarming shade of blue....
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OPrisl7z_vw
Camdem - WinterMoon Samovar RARE/Creamer/Sugar/Tray/Tea Cups
hive // magnolia plant
[ keke ] winter bottle - elder berry
[ keke ] sphere bottled flowers - white
AF Cherry Voulevants
{vespertine}spring rose arrangement
Apple Fall Wild Thistles
Uni.ek Victorian Garden Set
Scarlet Creative Harry Pottering Shed
dust bunny . dwarf fruit trees . clementine tree
*alirium* DwarfForest [OldGold]
ERSCH - Tasha Veil Hat
Hotdog . Severed Head . Female
Hotdog - Her Respectable Dress . Black stripe
!dM VictorianGothic - CrystalSpider Tophat
HOTDOG Ringmistress Vest - Striped
ZIBSKA Noir Pack #19 Eyemakeup
Thanks to Finnstill for the super tophat!
The wild turkey once ran neck and neck with the bald eagle to see which one would become our National Bird. Ben Franklin argued that the wild turkey was much more respectable than that reprehensible eagle. Which one would you rather have representing us?
The view from part way down the 199 steps.
The white house with the light on at the very left of the shot is called Steps cottage. It was where we were staying during our week in Whitby over Easter. There wasn't so many steps to climb to take this iconic view at sunrise, which was great for me!!
To get to the cottage from the centre you do have to climb quite a few steps which was a little tiring after a full day out. By the end of the week the walk up seemed slightly less tiring! 😂
I should probably attempt to get fitter before we return for 2 weeks in the summer holidays, then I'll have a go at tackling the 199 steps to do a sunrise shoot from the Abbey!
#oldpeoplesproblems 😏
Some history about the 199 steps.
thenorthyorkshiregallery.co.uk/199-steps/#:~:text=199%20S....
The Bell 204 and 205 are the civilian versions of the UH-1 Iroquois single-engine military helicopter of the Huey family of helicopters. They are type-certificated in the transport category and are used in a wide variety of applications, including crop dusting, cargo lifting and aerial firefighting.
Bell designed its Model 204 in response to a 1955 United States Army requirement for a utility helicopter. The 204 was a giant step forward in helicopter design, being one of the first to be powered by a turboshaft. The turboshaft engine radically improved the practicality of the helicopter due to its light weight and high power-to-weight ratio, lower fuel consumption, and lower maintenance and operating costs. The use of a turboshaft in the 204 allowed it to carry a useful payload over respectable ranges and at reasonable speeds, which resulted in the 204 and subsequent 205 becoming the most successful western helicopter series in terms of numbers built.
For several years I have had this photo in my mind. Getting low for water-level photography is something I have been doing for years but I finally got a dry suit and that changed the game. I was able to get in the water for several hours with these birds which enabled me to get the photo I was after. It was an incredible experience. I kept a respectable distance from these birds and after awhile, they payed me no mind, and just went about doing their thing. Here, an adult gives the chick a feather to eat, which may help line the young birds stomach helping guard them against bacteria.
and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind. One cannot change this all in a moment, but one can at least change one's own habits, and from time to time one can even, if one jeers loudly enough, send some worn-out and useless phrase — some jackboot, Achilles' heel, hotbed, melting pot, acid test, veritable inferno or other lump of verbal refuse — into the dustbin where it belongs :-)
George Orwell, "Politics and the English Language," 1946
Truth Matters!! hopefully, someday perhaps we can add "Fake News" ;-(
saucer magnolia, 'Sundew', j c raulston arboretum, ncsu, raleigh, north carolina
A late season male swaying in the summer breeze at Arnside Knott in Cumbria (UK) (9536).
The single-brooded salmacis form found in northern England is generally finished by the end of July, but as a result of this year's late emergence, a few 'respectable' individuals were still on the wing this late in the season.
These guys are so small and fast. Photographing them in flight is a challenge I totally enjoy. Fortunately, today there was a large group of them (called a flight or gulp) and the overcast sky created even light. Violet-green Swallows "are a common sight in the West in spring and summer, but they vanish to Mexico and Central America for the winter. They can be distinguished from other swallows by the white patches on the sides of their rump and their white cheeks." They "have been recorded flying at 28 miles per hour—a pretty respectable speed considering that the Peregrine Falcon, the fastest bird of prey, averages about 25–35 miles per hour in traveling flight. The scientific name for Violet-green Swallow is Tachycineta thalassina. Tachycineta means fast moving and thalassina means of the sea referring to the sea-green color of their backs." Information from the All About Birds website, www.allaboutbirds.org, © Cornell Lab of Ornithology.
"I think I could turn and live with the animals
they are so placid and self contained.
I stand and look at them long and long.
They do not sweat and whine about their condition,
They do not wake in the dark and weep for their sins,
They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,
Not one is dissatisfied,not one is demented with the mania of owning things,
Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,
Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth'-Walt Whitman
I love Walt Whitman, but I do wonder if animals are actually happy? I think their lives are actually quit difficult, and often made more so by us.
CP H19-12 returns to Toronto Yard with 1300' of GM products from the Oshawa plant behind a solo and respectable looking CP 6259.
Ich verbrachte Tage entweder in der Morgendämmerung oder in der Abenddämmerung am Waldrand, in der Hoffnung, den Fuchs wiederzusehen und in der Hoffnung, dass es nicht zu dunkel für ein respektables Foto ist. Jetzt hat es endlich geklappt.
I spent days either at dawn or dusk at the edge of the forest, hoping to see the fox again and hoping that it was not too dark for a respectable photo. Now it finally worked out.
.peculiar.things. lady peculiar bagage- tropical
[ContraptioN] Hollow's Coat
Hotdog - Respectable dress / severed head male
Clemmm- Merciful
Four Avocets showed up while I was trying to get a decent pose from a Western Sandpiper at the Bolivar Flats. Four of these birds appeared and started feeding in a small pool of water on the beach. The avocet feeds, though, by sweeping its bill to the left and right, so most of the shots didn't have the appeal I was looking for, or one or two of the birds were partially out of the frame. But this one turned out respectably, even as the late morning sun was moving overhead and becoming a bit harsh.
Up and Coming Samara Joy is only 21, but has major US tour; a singing star in making. In Montreal, she was supported by Pasquale Grasso, a great guitarist, a base player and a drummer. She is from Bronx, NY, confident on the stage even at the start of her career. In 2019 won the Sarah Vaughan International Jazz Vocal Competition, which started her rise in jazz world. Btw, I was about 40 ft away, a respectable distance.
129. Montreal P1290719; Taken 2022 July 02. Uploaded 2022 Sep 01.
partners in crime
the most respectable men i ever meet in SL DAMON & BEIDOU
here is BEIDOU version www.flickr.com/photos/rooopa/51861713511
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Hair: Delora by Escalated
Dress: Respectable Dress (unisex) by Hotdog (at Anthem event)
Gloves: Dapper Dandy gloves by Contraption
Eye Makeup: Molten by alaskametro (10L clearance makeup sale happening now at mainstore & MP)
Imposant sind sie schon, die Sonnenblumen. Immer schön, wenn man an einem sonnigen Tag eine von ihnen findet.
Sunflowers are respectable plants. Their beautiful symmetry can impress.
Hello amazing people!
Today is a green day at Color My World Daily and that is my only inspiration for today’s picture….
I have a new photographic obsession: old books. And as a respectable hoarder that I am , I have many, many books… I can’t resist an old book… We have books everywhere in our house. I don’t have enough shelves so I started to put them in piles around our bedroom… At first my collection was only about small, old books. I have many, many prayers books and bibles of all kind. Religious books are very, very common but I like to keep them and think about all the prayers and hopes around those books… People who owned them are long gone but the books are still here. Some of my books are very old and fall apart very easily. Some are from 1800 so you can only imagine the history behind those old books…
Some of my books are from other countries and written in languages I don’t understand… but they still have this amazing vintage feel. I will not read any of them but I like to collect books and I’m not planning on stop soon…Old books are timeless and so magical. They have a soul, that is sure.
So who else likes old books ?
Thank you so much for all your lovely comments / favs/ general support / happy thoughts / positive vibes!! Stay safe and healthy!! And enjoy your day!!!
So... This evening I thought I'd pop over to Avalon hide at Ham wall to shoot a marshie or a bittern in the evening light, as the temperature had dropped to a respectable 30°C.
I sat there till nearly sun set with no sign of either... Just as I was about to go I saw movement in the reeds, thinking it was a bittern I trained my camera on it. I was more than a little surprised to see this fella pop up. :@)
Chapter Six — Iceland
Where the Earth Still Feels Wild
🎼 Today's Listening ...... Sigur Rós - Hoppípolla
www.youtube.com/watch?v=nf2VhqaBIys&list=RDnf2VhqaBIy...
Pippa had been in Iceland for less than a day when she discovered something important.
The wind had absolutely no respect for hairstyles.
She had started the morning with what she considered a perfectly respectable braid.
By the time she reached the black sands near Vík, approximately half of it had escaped.
Pippa decided this was fine.
She was embracing nature.
Nature, meanwhile, appeared to be trying to remove her coat.
She pulled the rust-coloured jacket more tightly around herself and looked across the beach.
Black volcanic sand stretched beneath towering cliffs. Great Atlantic waves rolled towards the shore, white against the darkness, while the strange Reynisdrangar sea sticks rose from the water like something from an old Icelandic legend.
In the distance, a waterfall tumbled from the cliffs.
Pippa stopped walking.
“Oh, wow.”
For several seconds she simply stared.
Then she remembered the camera hanging against her chest.
Click.
The sea stacks.
Click.
The waterfall.
Click.
A puffin that remained perfectly still until the exact moment she pressed the shutter.
Pippa lowered the camera.
“Thank you.”
The puffin appeared unconcerned.
She wandered farther along the beach, stopping whenever something caught her eye
Which was approximately every twelve seconds.
Then she saw it.
Scattered across the black sand were pieces of ice, clear and brilliant against the volcanic shore, some no bigger than her hand and others sparkling like enormous pieces of glass.
Pippa crouched beside one.
For once, she didn't immediately reach for her camera.
She touched it carefully with her fingertips.
Cold.
Very cold.
Ridiculously cold.
She pulled her hand back.
“Well, that was obvious.”
Then she laughed and reached for the camera.
Click.
Behind her came the sound of another wave.
Pippa glanced towards the sea.
It looked far enough away.
Plenty of time.
She turned back to the ice.
Click.
The Atlantic Ocean had other ideas.
A freezing rush of water swept suddenly across the black sand and straight over both of her boots.
Pippa shot upright.
“OH!”
She stared down at her feet.
Then at the retreating water.
Then back at the sea.
The sea offered no apology whatsoever.
Pippa stood perfectly still for a moment.
“Waves have no manners.”
There was nobody nearby to disagree.
Several minutes later she was sitting on a rock, emptying a small quantity of Iceland out of one boot while her camera rested safely beside her.
Her feet were freezing.
Her braid had almost surrendered completely.
There was black sand in places where black sand had absolutely no business being.
And she'd already eaten the emergency chocolate she'd promised herself she would save until later.
Pippa looked across the wild coastline.
The waterfall thundered in the distance. Mist drifted across the cliffs. Waves crashed onto the shore, and pieces of ancient ice glittered against the black sand.
She smiled.
Some places were beautiful because everything was perfect.
Iceland wasn't interested in perfect.
It was wild.
Untamed.
A little bit uncomfortable.
And completely unforgettable.
Pippa picked up her camera.
One last photograph.
Click.
Then she looked suspiciously towards the approaching tide.
“Right. I'm learning.”
She moved another ten feet up the beach.
Just in case.
♡ Postcard from Iceland
Made with my Second Life avatar, Ai and edited in Photoshop
༺ Photography and Story by Pippa ༻
In Nailsworth, not far from Stroud in the Cotswolds, we made a walk up Butcher Hills Lane, where there is a bright postbox at the junction with Brewery Lane. Under a crown, the postbox bears the initials GR and the Roman figure V between these initials. This means the postbox was erected during the reign of King George the Fifth, between 1910 and 1936. A postbox with a respectable age!
The lineage of the Knights of Lichtenstein – a respectable and noble family – subsisted until the 17th century. Their ancestral seat Lichtenstein Fortress was situated directly above Honau and the source of the river Echaz, a site which today is called “Old Lichtenstein”.
Das wilde Schwein Richard kam vor vielen, vielen Jahren in den Haushalt und die Familie des Sekretärs. Schon vor längerer Zeit wurde aus dem einfachen "Richard" der frühen Jahre ein gediegenes "Sir Richard". Er trägt die Bürde aber auch die Privilegien des Alters mit Würde und weiss, sich mit seinen Liebliengsspeisen verwöhnen zu lassen.
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The wild boar Richard came into the secretary's household and family many, many years ago. Already some time ago the simple "Richard" of the early years became a respectable "Sir Richard". He carries the burden but also the privileges of old age with dignity and knows how to be regaled with his favourite dishes.
Another image from the back catalogue, this time a lovely mornings walk around Tarn Hows led to some really great views with snow peaked mountains in the distance, very dark and moody clouds with the occasional flash of sunlight breaking through.
Looking forward to a return some day soon, a lovely place and once sunrises are at a more respectable hour, I think i'll be waiting!
As always, better viewed with a press of the L key
It’s been 8 months now with the reigns of the Inspire 1 Pro and having a new perspective on the world has been incredibly fun, but I’m not satisfied…
When the Phantom rolled into the niche corners of photography in early 2013 I took note. “Imagine what it would be like to get my hands on her”, but with a marginally integrated HERO 3 at the front I was hardly turned on.
The years rolled on and so did the tech. Other bespoke UAV’s came onto the market and so did the advent of the spreading wings system. Short of the technical engineering degree required to operate them and the small home mortgage needed to fund their lifestyle my IQ fantasy was getting no closer.
When DJI announced the X5 things changed. Here was a ‘real’ camera, integrated beautifully and capable of 16mpx stills with a micro 4/3rds sensor and a real lens (my old D4 was only 16mpx after all).
I downloaded all the RAWS I could find and committed – “Let’s do this”.
It is one hell of a beautiful aircraft to fly and for a videographer it would be the perfect romance but as a photographer it’s missing the spark. In the right conditions – things are great but it doesn’t like to be pushed.
I’ve calculated around 9 stops of DR which is respectable (but I really need 13 for a good time). So what now? I don’t know, I love the Inspire and I’m happy with what we have together.
There is an alternative, It’s more expensive and a giant P.I.T.A but there is something I want, I need – IQ. The question is, how to get it.
The peep show is fun but I think I think I need the real thing…
THE LITTLE ONES OF HARTLEY LANE
A Little Thank You
A special thank you to my good friend Eve, whose beautiful images of Victorian London first gave me the inspiration for the setting of The Little Ones of Hartley Lane.
When I saw Eve's wonderful old streets, glowing gas lamps and wet cobbles, a little idea began to form, and with her kind permission, that idea eventually grew into Hartley Lane and the story of Philipa, Tommy, Alfie and Eliza.
Thank you, Eve, for providing that first little spark of inspiration. ❤️
Sometimes the biggest stories begin with the smallest idea.
🎵 Somewhere Only We Know
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xFGE8BuOn0g&list=RDxFGE8BuOn0...
Before Our Story Begins...
There had been Hartleys in this part of London for longer than most people could remember.
Once, they had been a wealthy and influential family, owning property and businesses along the narrow streets that wound their way through this corner of the city. With time, one particular little road became known simply as Hartley Lane, and even generations later, the family name remained above shop doors and painted upon old signs.
By the time Miss Philippa Hartley came along, much had changed.
Now twenty eight years old, Philipa knew that the grandest days of the Hartley family belonged to the past, but she still carried the name. She lived comfortably and respectably above a small draper's and dressmaking shop on Hartley Lane, a family business that had survived long after much of the old Hartley fortune had disappeared.
Philipa earned her living among bolts of cloth, ribbons, buttons and demanding customers, and rather liked the orderly little life she had made for herself.
It wasn't going to remain orderly for much longer.
There was Tommy Doyle.
Thirteen years old and already far too accustomed to being the grown up. Tommy had lost his mother when he was young, and when his father later died in an accident, one responsibility mattered above all others.
His little sister.
Tommy had promised he would look after Eliza.
And Tommy Doyle took promises seriously.
His little sister , was Eliza Doyle.
Seven years old, quiet and watchful, Eliza remembered little of the comfortable life she'd once known. She went nowhere without her battered rag doll, Dolly, one of the few things she had left from her mother.
Whatever else the streets might take from her, Dolly was staying.
And then there was Alfie McGee.
Nine years old, freckled, sandy haired and blessed with the sort of cheeky grin that usually meant something had either just gone wrong... or was about to.
Alfie's mother had died when he was six. His father was still alive, although a prison cell had put an end to any chance of him raising his son. Alfie had learned early that if he wanted food, warmth or somewhere to sleep, he would usually have to find it himself.
Somewhere along the way, he found Tommy and Eliza instead.
Tommy would later insist that Alfie simply started following them.
Alfie would insist they were lucky to have him.
The truth was probably somewhere in between.
They weren't all bound together by blood.
Tommy protected them.
Alfie made them laugh.
And Eliza gave both boys someone worth being brave for.
Then there was Philipa.
At that moment, she could never have imagined how completely these three grubby little strangers were about to turn her orderly life upside down.
And they certainly couldn't have imagined that Miss Philippa Hartley, with her fine burgundy coat, proper manners and comfortable home, would become anything more than another well dressed lady passing through their world.
But Hartley Lane had other ideas.
This is the story of Tommy Doyle, his little sister Eliza, and Alfie McGee, the boy who somehow became family without sharing their name , and Philippa Hartley, the young woman who thought she was merely offering them a little kindness.
None of them knew it yet, but Hartley Lane was about to give them something far greater than shelter.
It was going to give them a family.
❤️ Follow along as their story begins...
Made with my Second Life avatar, Ai and edited in Photoshop
༺ Photography and Story by Pippa ༻