View allAll Photos Tagged rust
The wind rolled across the desert like a sigh, reshaping the endless waves of golden dust. James Wren wiped the sweat from his brow and adjusted his pack. He had walked this road for three days in search of a gas station to refuel his car. His water was low. His hope, lower.
Then he heard it.
A faint, crackling melody, twisting through the wind. It was impossible — a tune that didn’t belong to the desert, something old, something ghostly. He looked ahead, searching for the source.
At first, he thought it was a trick of the heat. But there it was, abandoned on the road — a rusting car from another time. The windshield was shattered, the doors long eroded by sand and wind. But the radio, impossibly, still played.
James approached cautiously. The melody wavered and dipped, 1930’s jazz, the kind played in smoky speakeasies a century ago.
His fingers brushed against the corroded metal of the door. A whisper of a voice rose out of the music.
"…always knew you’d find me…"
James’ breath hitched. He stepped back, pulse hammering. The voice was thin, feminine, stretched with age. It wasn’t a recording. It was speaking.
"It’s been so long, Jimmy."
The desert was empty. No one had called him Jimmy since —
No.
He swallowed hard. He forced himself to look inside.
The dial of the radio glowed. The voice rose from the speaker.
"You promised me a drive to the coast, Jimmy. You never came back."
He remembered. A lifetime ago, or maybe a hundred lifetimes. The night he ran. The night he left her behind.
The music crackled, fading in and out.
"I waited. I waited, Jimmy."
The wind howled and the sand began to shift.
The radio let out one last, ghostly note before falling silent.
Midjourney, Photoshop
Rusted chrome grille of a 1952 Pontiac Strato Chief.
Here's an image I shot way back in 2008 that's been reprocessed. Both the Photomatix software and my processing knowledge have improved since then, so I figured it was time for another stab at it. I anticipate doing this some day with all my images, which is why I always save my raw files.
Flickr's update a few years ago also rendered images before February 2012 unable to be viewed in full-screen mode, so that's another incentive to repost my old favs.
Many more to come.
Nikon D80
AF-Micro Nikkor 60mm f/2.8
Exposure: ISO 100, 3 exposures 1/30, 1/60, 1/90 @ f/8
Photomatix Pro, Nik Color Efex Pro
Check out my Car photography album.
Découvrez mon album de Photographie de voiture.
â–º All my images are my own real photography, not fake AI fraudography.
► Toutes mes images sont ma propre vraie photographie, pas une fausse fraudographie basée sur l'IA.
â– Please don't use my images for any purpose, including on websites or blogs, without my explicit permission.
■S.V.P ne pas utiliser cette photo sur un site web, blog ou tout autre média sans ma permission explicite.
© Tom Freda / All rights reserved - Tous droits réservés
We all had a go at these photogenic rusty hollow buoy markers. Some nice sidelighting on our final morning did the trick for me. On the shores of Achiltibuie with the Summer Isles in the background.
A nicely rusted nut and bolt on a groyne from one of the beaches that we visited today. I love the textures and the colours of this, and the seaweed in the foreground adds a lovely shade of red!
As far as I can tell, ocher is the color of rust. The rust color of the cocoon matches the rust color on the supporting structure.
Rust never sleeps!
This is a crash beam on an old wagon at Gilfach ddu,which is at least 50 years old,it has seen better days.
Rust is an iron oxide, a usually reddish-brown oxide formed by the reaction of iron and oxygen in the catalytic presence of water or air moisture. Rust consists of hydrous iron(III) oxides (Fe2O3·nH2O) and iron(III) oxide-hydroxide (FeO(OH), Fe(OH)3), and is typically associated with the corrosion of refined iron.
Given sufficient time, any iron mass, in the presence of water and oxygen, could eventually convert entirely to rust.