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Seemingly competing to be the closest engine to the photographer, CN S-13 #8514 works alongside three others as they switch VIA equipment at Spadina. CN was in the midst of a major trackwork project which would eventually see a 'flyunder' installed to better facilitate trains getting into and out of Toronto Union Station. The scene would look vastly different today, with the Skydome and endless glass-encased condo buildings dominating this part of Toronto now. Ray Hoadly photo, June 16, 1982.
Seemingly on borrowed time, Northern Counties Palatine II Olympian RJZ 2265 powers out of Crewe with a homebound run from Cheshire College.
Originally new as L561 YCU with Kentish Bus.
On this Dec. 2018 weekend I, like seemingly every other railfan in the northeast, made the trip to the Southern Tier of New York to chase and photograph the annual Toys For Tots special train that ran from Binghamton to Delanson, NY on NS. In conjunction with that, were opportunities to shoot the returning deadhead equipment heading south on the old Erie Mainline.
Many fans lamented the fact that Norfolk Southern chose (for entirely rational public relations reasons) to put two of their modern locomotives on top of what were the stars of the show (to railfans at least).
But, I didn't care. Just a chance to see them, even coupled at both ends was worth it to me. So I headed out on Fri taking my time on the long 5 hr drive to Binghamton. I railfanned my way west and south...quite unsuccessfully I might add, but then had a fun night in Bingo catching up with an old railroader buddy.
Fri was a long fun day in pretty poor weather. It was good to be on the old Delaware and Hudson again after more than two decades and great to see so many familiar faces in the hobby. While the owner has changed, the "Bridge Line" is still as gorgeous as ever.
On Saturday was even worse weather, but an even rarer opportunity. Not only is this train exceedingly special, but seeing ANY train on the old Southern Tier east of Binghamton is a treat these days, account it normally only hosts 6 nocturnal freights a week operated by the NYSW railroad.
Here is a favorite shot of the stars of the show without those pesky SD60Es blocking the view! And for the uninitiated who read my ramblings these stars are original Pennsylvania Railroad EMD E8s 5711 and 5809 built in Oct 1952 and Jan 1951 respectively by EMD.
I'd seen these stunningly restored classics that are owned by Bennett Levin's Juniata Terminal only once prior, when they went to Streamliners at Spencer in 2014. Well, correct that. I'd only seen them that one time in their restored glory. I did shoot these locomotives in the 1990s when they wore Pullman green and led Conrail's OCS into New England many times and in fact the first photo I had published in Trains magazine was of the these Es running on the Northeast Corridor in Rhode Island!
Discarded by NS and CSXT after the 1999 unmerger, they have enjoyed a remarkable second coming in their as delivered glory, often running on home rails leading excursions and special trains around the east. But the rumors are those days are coming to an end and there might not be another chance to see these stunners on the high iron so weather and miles be damned!
And the reason I took an unplanned vacation day and stayed to follow the deadhead was a chance for THIS. NYSW Engineer Dan McCarthy arranged with Casey Thomason, Marc Glucksman and railroad management for a brief pause to cut away the NS units during the deadhead move to pause for photos at one of the most famous places in all of railroading.
Starrucca Viaduct is a stone arch bridge that spans Starrucca Creek near Lanesboro, Pennsylvania, in the United States. Built at a cost of $320,000 (equal to $9,065,846 today), it was at the time of its construction thought to be the most expensive railway bridge in the world. It was the largest stone rail viaduct in the mid-19th century and is still in use. It is just over 1000 feet in length and is 100 ft high consisting of seventeen 50 ft wide arches.
Lanesboro, Pennsylvania
Sunday December 2, 2018
Burgess’ seemingly orderly assemblies of metal and granite reveal her reverence for discipline and rational order. They also disclose her spirit of inquiry and courage to express murkier and unknown elements: the stuff of dreams, intuition and experience. For Burgess, the abstract forms and geometric objects in her sculptural compositions hold specific personal meanings, memories and truths, enabling her to “situate the personal and mundane the infinite and the unknowable.”
Yellow-crowned Night Heron seemingly taking a bath at Lettuce Lake Park in Tampa, FL. I've always seem these herons upright and never in this kind of position. However, soon after I snapped the shots, the heron walked out of the water onto a tree limb so it seems all was well with the heron.
This photograph/image is copyrighted and may not be used in any way without my permission. If you would like to use it, please contact me via Flickr mail.
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“Grandad look. The stream, the stream!” There was always a pause for effect. “And then he fell in.” We could never pass that spot in the lane without my Grandad telling me about the moment my cousin Mark, on a visit from Ireland got over excited and ended up going headlong into the freezing cold water. It was part of the ritual in a place where for a few years at least, time stood still and the summers were seemingly endless. Each August we came to the edge of the village where my Great Grandmother had spent most of her life and stayed in the cottage at the end of the lane next to the big barn where the swallows swooped and dived with unmatched elegance across the farmyard all summer long. I just about remember her, not much bigger than me, sitting in the parlour, her skin almost translucent, her white hair in a bun. “Are you a hundred yet Great Granny?” “Not quite yet. Nearly.” Born when Victoria was still on the throne she seemed impossibly old to my childish eyes. Most of the time now she lived in London with her youngest son, Great Uncle Bill, the rich one who’d done rather well in the antiques trade.
On the day of arrival I’d race across the yard and into the fields as soon as I could be excused from unpacking, running towards the brook to explore and paddle, dodging cow pats as I went. Often I’d venture further to the lower fields where the River Tavy would pour across the landscape loudly, sliding down over mossy boulders and spilling into quiet slowly moving stretches of deeper water where we’d swim on hot afternoons. I'd see how far along its course I could go without treading onto either bank, leaping from one partially submerged boulder to another in a game of daredevil hopscotch in an attempt to beat last year's record. Rarely did I return without at least one soaking wet sock and shoe, and very often the ever present herd of bullocks would thwart my progress. In true Mexican stand-off style, they’d fix me with thirty or more pairs of staring brown eyes, blinking silently, never budging an inch, and I’d stare back at them in a state of soft alarm. If I was coming back from the fields I’d be trapped, and more than once I’d traipse around the long way and walk through the village back to the lane, one foot squelching loudly as I went. If Grandad was with me, he’d cry “Get away with you,” in his unmistakable Cork lilt, and wave his walking stick at them, at which point they’d silently part and allow us through.
The summer of ’76 is the one we still talk about in Britain nearly fifty years later. That long hot dry spell brought a glut of enormous blackberries to the hedgerows of Dartmoor, so much so that I overdid it and was sent to bed with an upset stomach, which was by now probably full of all sorts of interesting invertebrate life. So clearly during my convalescence I remember watching through the bedroom window as those first gentle rains finally arrived to repair the cracked earth and revive the walled garden that the neighbour, Mr Edwards tended with such love and care. Apparently the garden belonged to us rather than him, although you’d never have guessed it. With my Great Grandmother mostly away in London, he’d taken command and we were only allowed in by special invitation and firmly instructed not to touch anything. Outside his realm he was far more affable; we’d often take Trixie, his Cocker Spaniel on our adventures across the fields, and he once invited me and my little brother David around to watch the athletics on the television. Brendan Foster was running – he’d got a bronze medal at the Olympic Games in Montreal a few weeks earlier. My parents had allowed me to stay up late that evening to watch it.
A regular treat was to venture up the slopes along the side of the stream to the Combe, to spend the day at the Mill Pond, where we’d swim and hardly ever see another soul. My parents began to make sailing boats by lashing together bits of fallen wood, ripping up old sheets to make sails so that we could race them across the Mill Pond, naming the fastest of their craft the “Ra” and the “Kon-Tiki” in deference to Thor Heyerdahl’s exploits on the Atlantic. And then we invented the sport of Weeble racing. Remember “Weebles wobble but they don’t fall down?” We’d each drop our favoured Weeble into the water from a starting point together, and see whose charge made it to the finishing line first. Often the sport would be marred by shameful cheating on all of our parts as our entrants were dislodged from a fallen branch or a rocky impasse and “helped” a few yards along the water when nobody else was watching, and tragically we would regularly lose members of our Weeble population. In the great Weeble disaster of August 1978, Farmer Weeble, Wendy Weeble , Fireman Weeble and Sailor Weeble were all lost in a single afternoon. You would have thought at least that Sailor Weeble might have found his way down into the Mill Pond, but he’s surely still up there, wedged under a rock, taunted by trout. Each time a Weeble was lost, a solemn service would be held and Mum would offer a heartfelt eulogy on the loss of yet another unwitting lump of plastic with a lead weight inside. We often wondered how many of them might find their way down to Plymouth and pop up under the Tamar Bridge on their lonely way to the English Channel. Sir David Attenborough soon crossed us off his Christmas card list when he heard what we’d been doing to the environment.
On the way back, we’d sometimes stop at the pub garden where my parents would drink Theakston’s Old Peculiar and Mum would soon start giggling a lot. If I were lucky, I might be allowed a sip from her glass. Sometimes we might have a pasty too. I’d been teaching David how to do the triple jump in the fields, and one evening he decided to try his technique in that pub garden, landing with both feet very neatly into a cow pat the size of a small dustbin lid. Annoyed at having his Old Peculiar interrupted, Dad frogmarched him back to the cottage by his ear while the rest of us tried to contain our laughter.
When the old lady died, my Grandparents, who lived fifty odd miles away in North Devon kept the cottage and each summer we would arrive for two weeks to rediscover the old haunts and roam across the fields, dodging cow pats and keeping away from the bullocks. I wouldn’t have wanted to go anywhere else; I had everything I needed here. And then in 1982 I was told that my Grandmother had decided to sell, despite pleading from the family to keep it. We’d hoped she might let it to visitors, but ignoring the evidence of our own love for the place, she was convinced everyone wanted to go to the seaside for their holidays. A buyer was found, and that October Mum took us out of school for a final two week stay at the place that held nothing but the best and happiest memories. In the last days of that wistful autumn sojourn I’d open my bedroom window over the paddock and watch the swallows flitting in and out of their nests under the eaves of the barn as they made their final preparations for the long journey south to a warmer winter. While the lucky ones would return, for us it was the last time we’d wander over those fields and down to where the River Tavy hid countless Weebles. Never again would we go to the village shop for sweeties, and hold running races along the lane back to the cottage. Never again would Dad fall into the river and lie midstream on his back after three pints of Old Peculiar on a boiling August afternoon, my four year old sister who he was carrying sitting on his chest with a bemused expression, while the rest of the family hooted with laughter. Nor would Mum suddenly cry out “Orange sunset!” and go chasing across the yard towards the fields with her Instamatic, parting the watching herd of bullocks in her wake. Never again would Grandad tell me about when Mark fell into the stream with that old Irish twinkle in his eye. Every year when we came home I felt terribly sad at leaving the moors behind us, but when we finally left on that late October afternoon, the journey back felt like a funeral cortege; the end of an era we'd never be able to return to. It was a loss we never really came to terms with.
But all that time I hadn’t really noticed that a deep and lasting love had crept up and encircled me in its web for the rest of my life. The green fields and the ever rustling trees filled with birdsong; the rush of ice cold water over slippery rocks; the graceful acrobatics of the swallows and even those wretched staring bullocks. The sense of being out there alone, surrounded by Mother Nature’s unmatched beauty. Nothing material could ever match what the natural world offered, and all of the passion the landscape now holds for me was forged in that handful of fields over forty years ago. Everywhere I went in later life would be measured against the benchmark of bucolic bliss that those six childhood summers at the edge of the village had brought. No greater accolade could be made than that of making a favourable comparison to the place where we’d always gone on holiday without giving anywhere else a thought. Dartmoor is still only ninety minutes away on a good day; wild, untamed and unconditionally beautiful, although the village I usually now avoid. Now and again we find our way back to the open moors where the mist creeps over you without warning and then just as suddenly breaks to reveal the landscape in the distance. Just like it did on top of Great Staple Tor when we took our first tentative steps out into the world in the campervan last summer. For a moment we were completely shrouded, lost to the world up there on our own with a flock of grazing sheep, while somewhere down in the folds of the land below us a young boy walked in perfect sunshine along a quiet lane past a blackberry laden bramble hedgerow, one shoe full of river water as he watched the dancing swallows race low over his head and wondered whether just one more search for Sailor Weeble might be worth a try.
There were seemingly endless compositions on this wonderful stretch shale shoreline on Georgian Bay.
Craigleith Provincial Park, Ontario, Canada.
If you'd like, you can take a look at all my images from my short trip to Georgian Bay.
While seemingly lazy, these fish will go out of their way to get to their spawning grounds. Whitefish jumping waterfalls has never been photo-documented until now.
Seemingly stationary since 2008, but it did get presented for an MOT (which it failed) in 2016. Impressive mileage of 194k
Supplied by McCarthy of Weybridge (Defunct).
Impression of the 2012 edition of Floriade in Venlo (The Netherlands). Floriade - a World Horticultural Exposition - is an international exhibition and garden festival, held every 10 years in the Netherlands.
The photo shows the seemingly calmness of the glowing landscape. On top of the hill you'll see some beach chairs, occupied by visitors of the exhibition relaxing in the very nice weather. You would not expect that on the other side of the hill, the grass was filled with crowds of people relaxing in the sun.
(IMG_3907_LR)
The most common of the small plovers on migration through most areas. On its breeding grounds in the north, it avoids the tundra habitat chosen by most shorebirds, nesting instead on gravel bars along rivers or ponds. In such surroundings, its seemingly bold pattern actually helps to make the plover inconspicuous, by breaking up its outline against the varied background. The name "semipalmated" refers to partial webbing between the bird's toes.
Skylarks seemingly evertwhere this morning in full song.This one landed just a few feet infront of me so I quickly layed down and got this shot.
Taken on the Suffolk Coast,
Officially the Commonwealth of Dominica, is an island nation in the Caribbean Sea. To the north-northwest lies Guadeloupe, to the southeast Martinique. Its size is 754 square kilometres (291 sq mi) and the highest point in the country is Morne Diablotins, which has an elevation of 1,447 metres (4,750 ft). The Commonwealth of Dominica has an estimated population of 72,500. The capital is Roseau.
Dominica has been nicknamed the "Nature Isle of the Caribbean" for its seemingly unspoiled natural beauty. It is the youngest island in the Lesser Antilles, still being formed by geothermal-volcanic activity, as evidenced by the world's second-largest boiling lake. The island features lush mountainous rainforests, home of many rare plant, animal, and bird species. There are xeric areas in some of the western coastal regions, but heavy rainfall can be expected inland. The Sisserou Parrot (also known as the Imperial Amazon), the island's national bird, is featured on the national flag. Dominica's economy is heavily dependent on both tourism and agriculture.
Christopher Columbus named the island after the day of the week on which he spotted it, a Sunday (dominica in Latin), November 3, 1493. In the next hundred years after Columbus' landing, Dominica remained isolated, and even more Caribs settled there after being driven from surrounding islands as European powers entered the region. France formally ceded possession of Dominica to the United Kingdom in 1763. The United Kingdom then set up a government and made the island a colony in 1805.
The emancipation of African slaves occurred throughout the British Empire in 1834, and, in 1838, Dominica became the first British Caribbean colony to have a legislature controlled by an African majority. In 1896, the United Kingdom reassumed governmental control of Dominica, turning it into a Crown colony. Half a century later, from 1958 to 1962, Dominica became a province of the short-lived West Indies Federation. In 1978, Dominica became an independent nation.
History
In 1635 France claimed Dominica. Shortly thereafter, French missionaries became the first European inhabitants of the island. Carib incursions continued, though, and in 1660, the French and British agreed that both Dominica and St. Vincent should be abandoned. Dominica was officially neutral for the next century, but the attraction of its resources remained; rival expeditions of British and French foresters were harvesting timber by the start of the 18th century.
Largely because of Dominica's position between Martinique and Guadeloupe, France eventually became predominant, and a French settlement was established and grew. As part of the 1763 Treaty of Paris that ended the Seven Years' War, the island became a British possession. In 1778, during the American Revolutionary War, the French mounted a successful invasion with the active cooperation of the population. The 1783 Treaty of Paris, which ended the war, returned the island to Britain. French invasions in 1795 and 1805 ended in failure.
In 1763, the British established a legislative assembly, representing only the white population. In 1831, reflecting a liberalization of official British racial attitudes, the Brown Privilege Bill conferred political and social rights on free non-whites. Three African people were elected to the legislative assembly the following year. Following the abolition of slavery, in 1838 Dominica became the only British Caribbean colony to have a African-controlled legislature in the 19th century. Most African legislators were smallholders or merchants who held economic and social views diametrically opposed to the interests of the small, wealthy English planter class. Reacting to a perceived threat, the planters lobbied for more direct British rule.
In 1865, after much agitation and tension, the colonial office replaced the elective assembly with one that had one-half of members who were elected and one-half who were appointed. Planters allied with colonial administrators outmanoeuvred the elected legislators on numerous occasions. In 1871, Dominica became part of the Leeward Island Federation. The power of the African population progressively eroded. Crown Colony government was re-established in 1896. All political rights for the vast majority of the population were effectively curtailed. Development aid, offered as compensation for disenfranchisement, proved to have a negligible effect.
Following World War I, an upsurge of political consciousness throughout the Caribbean led to the formation of the Representative Government Association. Marshalling public frustration with the lack of a voice in the governing of Dominica, this group won one-third of the popularly elected seats of the legislative assembly in 1924 and one-half in 1936. Shortly thereafter, Dominica was transferred from the Leeward Island Administration and was governed as part of the Windwards until 1958, when it joined the short-lived West Indies Federation.
After the federation dissolved, Dominica became an associated state of the United Kingdom in 1967 and formally took responsibility for its internal affairs. On November 3, 1978, the Commonwealth of Dominica was granted independence by the United Kingdom.
Independence did little to solve problems stemming from centuries of economic underdevelopment, and in mid-1979, political discontent led to the formation of an interim government. It was replaced after the 1980 elections by a government led by the Dominica Freedom Party under Prime Minister Eugenia Charles, the Caribbean's first female prime minister. Chronic economic problems were compounded by the severe impact of hurricanes in 1979 and in 1980.
In 1981 Dominica was threatened with a takeover by mercenaries.
Attempted coup
In 1981, a group of right-wing "mercenaries" led by Mike Perdue of Houston and Wolfgang Droege of Toronto, attempted to overthrow the government of Eugenia Charles. The North America mercenary group was to aid ex-Prime Minister Patrick John and his Dominica Defence Force in regaining control of the island in exchange for control over the island's future development. The entire plan failed and the ship hired to transport the men of Operation Red Dog never even made it off the dock as the FBI was tipped off. The self-titled mercenaries lacked any formal military experience and/or training and the majority of the crew had been misled into joining the armed coup by the con-man ringleader Mike Perdue. White supremacist Don Black was also jailed for his part in the attempt, which violated US neutrality laws. The book, "Bayou of Pigs" written by Stewart Bell details the story of this missguided attempt to turn Dominica into a criminal paradise.
Since the 1980s
By the end of the 1980s, the economy recovered, but weakened again in the 1990s because of a decrease in banana prices.
In the January 2000 elections, the Edison James United Workers Party (UWP) was defeated by the Dominican Labour Party (DLP), led by Roosevelt P. "Rosie" Douglas. Douglas died after only a few months in office and was replaced by Pierre Charles, who died in office in January 2004. Roosevelt Skerrit, also of the DLP, replaced Charles as Prime Minister. Under Prime Minister Skerrit's leadership, the DLP won elections in May 2005 that gave the party 12 seats in the 21-member Parliament to the UWP's 8 seats. An independent candidate affiliated with the DLP won a seat as well. Since that time, the independent candidate joined the government and one UWP member crossed the aisle, making the current total 14 seats for the DLP and 7 for the UWP.
Geography
Dominica is an island nation and borderless country in the Caribbean Sea, the northernmost of the Windward Islands. The size of the country is about 289.5 square miles (754 km²). The capital is Roseau.
Dominica is largely covered by rainforest and is home to the world's second-largest boiling lake. Dominica has many waterfalls, springs, and rivers. The Calibishie area in the country's northeast has sandy beaches. Some plants and animals thought to be extinct on surrounding islands can still be found in Dominica's forests. The volcanic nature of the island has attracted scuba divers. The island has several protected areas, including Cabrits National Park, as well as 365 rivers.
It is said that when his royal sponsors asked Christopher Columbus to describe this island in the "New World", he crumpled a piece of parchment roughly and threw it on the table. This, Columbus explained, is what Dominica looks like—completely covered with mountains with nary a flat spot.
Morne Trois Pitons National Park is a tropical forest blended with scenic volcanic features. It was recognised as a World Heritage Site on April 4, 1995, a distinction it shares with four other Caribbean islands.
The Commonwealth of Dominica is engaged in a long-running dispute with Venezuela over Venezuela's territorial claims to the sea surrounding Isla Aves (literally Bird Island, but in fact called Bird Rock by Dominica authorities), a tiny islet located 140 miles (224 km) west of the island of Dominica.
There are two primary population centres: Roseau and Portsmouth.
Dominica possesses the most pristine wilderness in the Caribbean.[citation needed] Originally, it was protected by sheer mountains which led the European powers to build ports and agricultural settlements on other islands. More recently, the citizens of this island have sought to preserve its spectacular natural beauty by discouraging the type of high-impact tourism which has damaged nature in most of the Caribbean.
Visitors can find large tropical forests, including one which is on the UNESCO list of World Heritage sites, hundreds of streams, coastlines and coral reefs.
The Sisserou parrot is Dominica's national bird and is indigenous to its mountain forests.
The Caribbean Sea offshore of the island of Dominica is home to many cetaceans. Most notably a group of sperm whales live in this area year round. Other cetaceans commonly seen in the area include spinner dolphins, pantropical spotted dolphins and bottlenose dolphins. Less commonly seen animals include killer whales, false killer whales, pygmy sperm whales, dwarf sperm whales, Risso's dolphins, common dolphins, Atlantic spotted dolphins, humpback whales and Bryde's whales. This makes Dominica a destination for tourists interested in whale-watching.
Dominica is especially vulnerable to hurricanes as the island is located in what is referred to as the hurricane region. In 1979, Dominica was hit directly by category 5 Hurricane David, causing widespread and extreme damage. On August 17, 2007, Hurricane Dean, a category 1 at the time, hit the island. A mother and her seven-year-old son died when a landslide caused by the heavy rains fell onto their house. In another incident two people were injured when a tree fell on their house. Prime Minister Roosevelt Skerrit estimated that 100 to 125 homes were damaged, and that the agriculture sector was extensively damaged, in particular the banana crop.
Other Info
Oficial name:
Commonwealth of Dominica
Independence:
November 3, 1978
Area:
751km2
Inhabitants:
72.500
Languages:
Dominican Creole French [acf] 42,600 in Dominica (1998). Alternate names: Lesser Antillean Creole French, Patwa, Patois, Kwèyòl. Classification: Creole, French based
More information.
English [eng] 10,000 in Dominica (2004). Dialects: Dominican English. Classification: Indo-European, Germanic, West, English
More information.
Kokoy Creole English [aig] 200 in Dominica (2004). Kokoy dialect is in 2 villages: Marigot and Wesley in northeast Dominica. Alternate names: Leeward Caribbean Creole English. Classification: Creole, English based, Atlantic, Eastern, Southern
More information.
Extinct languages
Carib, Island [crb] Extinct. Formerly also in Lesser Antilles, excluding Trinidad. Also spoken in Saint Vincent and the Grenadines. Dialects: Was not intelligible with Black Carib (D. Taylor 1959). Vincentian on Saint Vincent may have been closer to Black Carib than to Island Carib. Not inherently intelligible with Garífuna (D. Taylor IJAL 1959:67). Classification: Arawakan, Maipuran, Northern Maipuran, Caribbean
Capital city:
Roseau
Meaning of country name: From the Latin "Dies Dominica" meaning "Sunday": the day of the week on which Christopher Columbus first landed on the island.
Description Flag:
The flag of Dominica was adopted on November 3, 1978, with some small changes being made in 1981, 1988, and 1990. The flag features a green background. A red circle at the centre features a Sisserou Parrot (Amazona imperialis) surrounded by ten green stars, which represent the island's ten parishes. Four strips of three coloured bands (yellow, black and white) radiate horizontally and vertically from the circle.
Before 1981, the colours of the bands were ordered differently and the green stars had no borders. Before 1988, the parrot faced in the opposite direction. In 1990, the colour of the stars, originally lime green, was darkened to match the green of the background, the yellow border around the stars was changed to black, the coloration of the parrot was brought more into alignment with reality, and some proportions were changed. There seems to be, generally, a lack of standardisation on many minor points of the flag in Dominica.
The flag's elements have symbolic meanings. The parrot is Dominica's national bird, meant to inspire citizens to soar to achieve their highest goals. In addition to representing the island's parishes, the stars also symbolise hope and equality. The combined lines form a cross, reflecting Dominica's Christian faith, and the three lines individually represent the Trinity. The flag's colours were also chosen for their associations: green - the island's verdant landscape; red - social justice; yellow - sunshine, agriculture; black - earth, African ancestry; white - clear waters, purity.
Coat of arms:
The coat of arms of Dominica was adapted on July 21, 1961. It consists of a shield with two guardian Sisserou Parrots bracing the shield atop of which is a raging lion. The quadrants of the shield depict a canoe, a banana tree, a palm and a mountain frog. Below the crest is the national motto: Après Bondie C'est La Ter (After God the Earth).
Motto: "Après Bondie, C'est La Ter"
National Anthem: Isle of beauty, isle of splendour
Isle of beauty, isle of splendour,
Isle to all so sweet and fair,
All must surely gaze in wonder
At thy gifts so rich and rare.
Rivers, valleys, hills and mountains,
All these gifts we do extol.
Healthy land, so like all fountains,
Giving cheer that warms the soul.
Dominica, God hath blest thee
With a clime benign and bright,
Pastures green and flowers of beauty
Filling all with pure delight,
And a people strong and healthy,
Full of godly, rev'rent fear.
May we ever seek to praise Thee
For these gifts so rich and rare.
Come ye forward, sons and daughters
Of this gem beyond compare.
Strive for honour, sons and daughters,
Do the right, be firm, be fair.
Toil with hearts and hands and voices.
We must prosper! Sound the call,
In which ev'ryone rejoices,
"All for Each and Each for All."
Internet Page: www.discoverdominica.com
Dominica in diferent languages
eng | afr | arg | ast | bre | cat | cym | dan | est | fin | glg | glv | ina | ita | jnf | lat | lin | lld | nld | nor | oci | por | roh | ron | rup | sco | sme | spa | srd | swe | vie | vor: Dominica
ces | cor | dsb | eus | fao | fry | hrv | hsb | hun | jav | lav | lit | mlg | mlt | pol | slk | slv | swa | tur | wol | zza: Dominika
aze | bos | crh | kaa | slo | tuk | uzb: Dominika / Доминика
deu | ltz | nds: Dominika / Dominika; Dominica / Dominica
fra | nrm: Dominique
bam: Dɔminiki
epo: Dominiko
frp: Domenica
fur: Dominiche
gla: Doiminicia
gle: Doiminice / Doiminice
hat: Dominik
ibo: Dọminika
ind: Dominika / دومينيكا
isl: Dóminíka
kmr: Domînîka / Доминика / دۆمینیکا; Domînîk / Доминик / دۆمینیک
kur: Domînîka / دۆمینیکا
mol: Dominica / Доминика
msa: Dominica / دومينيكا
que: Duminika
rmy: Dominika / दोमिनिका
scn: Domìnica
smg: Duomėnė̄ka
sqi: Domenika
tet: Domínika
ton: Tominika
vol: Dominikeän
wln: Dominike
abq | alt | bul | che | chm | kir | kjh | kom | krc | kum | mkd | mon | rus | tyv | udm: Доминика (Dominika)
bak | srp | tat: Доминика / Dominika
bel: Дамініка / Daminika
chv: Доминикӑ (Dominikă)
kaz: Доминика / Domïnïka / دومينيكا
kbd: Доминикэ (Dominikă)
oss: Доминикӕ (Dominikä)
tgk: Доминика / دامینیکه / Dominika
ukr: Домініка (Dominika)
ara: الدومينيك (ad-Dūmīnīk); دومينيكا (Dūmīnīkā)
fas: دومینیکا (Domīnīkā); دمینیکا (Domīnīkā); دومینیک (Domīnīk); دمینیک (Domīnīk)
prs: دومینیکا (Dōmīnīkā)
pus: دومينيکا (Domīnīkā)
uig: دومىنىكا / Dominika / Доминика
urd: ڈومینیکا (Ḋômīnīkā)
div: ޑޮމިނިކާ (Ḋominikā)
heb: דומיניקה (Dômînîqah)
lad: דומיניקה / Dominika
yid: דאָמיניקאַ (Dominika)
amh: ዶሚኒካ (Dominika)
ell: Ντομίνικα (Ntomínika); Δομίνικα (Domínika); Δομινίκη (Dominíkī)
hye: Դոմինիկա (Dominika)
kat: დომინიკა (Dominika)
hin: डोमिनिका (Ḍominikā)
ben: ডোমিনিকা (Ḍominikā); দোমিনিকা (Dominikā); ডমিনিকা (Ḍôminikā)
pan: ਡੋਮੀਨੀਕਾ (Ḍomīnīkā)
kan: ಡೊಮಿನಿಕ (Ḍominika)
mal: ഡൊമിനിക്ക (Ḍominikka)
tam: டொமினிக்கா (Ṭomiṉikkā); டொமினிகா (Ṭomiṉikā)
tel: డొమినికా (Ḍominikā)
zho: 多米尼克 (Duōmǐníkè)
jpn: ドミニカ (Dominika)
kor: 도미니카 (Dominika)
mya: ဒုိမီနီကာ (Dominika)
tha: โดมินิกา (Dōminikā)
khm: ដូមីនិក (Dūmīnik); ដូមីនីកា (Dūmīnīkā)
Seemingly unbreakable GXD-417 is still roaming the roads of Borsod as we speak.
In this image it is crossing the Hernád bridge at Pere, on one of the few snowy days of last winter.
A periwinkle, blooming seemingly untended, alongside the...
(where it's a city sidewalk)
Decatur (Sycamore Ridge), Georgia, USA.
12 April 2020.
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▶ COVID-19: The statewide shelter-at-home order permits the dog and me to go out on short walks. The camera comes with us.
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▶ Photo by Yours For Good Fermentables.com.
▶ For a larger image, type 'L' (without the quotation marks).
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▶ Camera: Olympus OM-D E-M10 II.
▶ Commercial use requires explicit permission, as per Creative Commons.
After a seemingly endless period of low cloud, rain and drizzle it was great to be able to get back out into England’s hill country and enjoy the first snowfall of the winter season. The picture was taken heading up the broad north-east ridge of Whernside, in the Yorkshire Dales National Park. The hill rises to an elevation of 2,415 feet above sea-level and is the highest point in North Yorkshire; although it should probably be added that the summit ridge actually straddles the county boundary with Cumbria.
Whernside is one of the celebrated “Three Peaks of Yorkshire”, the other two being Ingleborough (2,372 feet) and Pen-y-ghent (2,277 feet). The name is Viking in origin and is derived from a combination of “kvern”, meaning “millstone”, and “saettr”, meaning “summer pasture”.
Seemingly unnoticed by the local inhabitants, the evening freight out of Hobart bound for Burnie is skirting the bird sanctuary of Gould's Lagoon with a lengthy container train behind the mixed lash up of GM's 2006 + 2008 and English Electrics 2131 + 2134 + 2132 ( 2132 is
dead attached ),
Monday 24th February, 2014.
Photo By Steve Bromley.
A seemingly happy Stink Bug. I mean, he looks fairly happy.
Gear: Bausch and Lomb 26mm f/1.9 C-mount lens, Fotodiox C-mount to E-mount adapter, Fotodiox E-mount Macro Extension Tube, Sony A7R II.
remembering a seemingly interminable traffic slowdown in Surrey on the King George Highway before the bridge ...
song - ACDC's "Highway to Hell" covered by
Steve Vai & 2CELLOS - Luka Sulic and Stjepan Hauser
From seemingly nowhere, spilled glowing lava like cords of orange neon-lighting. In the blackness that engulfed the night, electric heat lit flowing streams that fell into the sea, disappearing in a cloud of steam with a sizzling splash.
Perhaps one of the most surreal and mind blowing experiences I've had as a photographer happened on this early morning at Kalapana. The hike in was quite exciting. Everything was blanketed in darkness, but an orange glow in the distance guided my way in. I wasn't alone, I had two of the best lava photographers with me and I could see why they were excited by every opportunity they got to photograph this phenomenon. When we eventually made our way to the cliff's edge, There was a rising plume of orange and yellow smoke. Everything else was consumed by it's vastness. Over the course of the next few hours, I witnessed the plume dance rhythmically in the wind, and in brief spells when the winds calmed, I saw molten lava entering the ocean, trickling down an 80 foot cliff. There were moments when an arriving wave would collide with its counterpart of fire, and cause an explosion that flew high into the air before depositing debris all around. I photographed several exposures catching this phenomenon. In terms of technical difficulty, this has to be one of the hardest images I've ever captured and processed. They lava was so bright that it blew out if the exposure was too long (pun intended). The explosions needed a slightly longer shutter speed and the land was pitch dark, so getting detail there meant waiting for morning twilight to arrive. This image is a blend of atleast 4 exposures if I remember correctly. Also, without that daring human standing atop the cliff, there is a sense of scale that is missing, atleast for me.
P.S : During the 4 hour window I just mentioned, I heard an almighty crack near the lava flow. A part of the cliff gave way and the lava began to spout out like a fire hose. It was one of the craziest, I repeat craziest things I have ever seen in my life.
Two chicks seemingly share a sweet moment at Kew Gardens.
It was rather odd in a sense because the mother of these chicks were constantly being harassed and coming under attack from a flock of around 7 or 8 green Mallard ducks, but the chicks seemed undisturbed.
One of the many tree lined lanes near Damme in Belgium. The scale and sheer sense of presence of these trees makes your heart skip a beat. A wondrous sight to see.
The lens is ready, the photographic medium is ready and the aperture was seemingly designed ready for this long exposure. Focus only on the required detail and allow the life of the open shutter to let in the waiting elements. Time is relative and it can make restrictive and prescriptive generating confining and defining photographic wonders galore. Just a touch of added extra less and a twitch of fluttering excluded more that nearly made it in all around the edges can be the key to this exposure. There was everything before the lens and now something of almost all that is safely embraced within camera ready for further developments in post production.
© PHH Sykes 2023
phhsykes@gmail.com
Pentland Hills. The Regional Park...
Another seemingly un-repeatable image is this one as 37025 has now headed 'home' to the Bo'ness and Kinniel railway after its hire to Colas has finished. The Large Logo tractor is pictured passing Westbury on a 3Z14 Test train circular from Bristol to Bristol via Wemouth
A seemingly deserted, dystopic New York City on its busiest night of the year, New Years Eve. Notice the quiet, blue 2 person party on the 4th floor, surrounded by dark, sleeping rooms.
Manhattan, New York City, New York, USA
Seemingly this was a piece of street art.
We stumbled across it whilst on a walk about in Copenhagen.
The seemingly endless supply of Intermodal trains that roam the BNSF's Southern Transcon was broken for a mere five minutes. As a far and few between Manifest train, this one originating out of Phoenix which was more or less a just a bunch of Autos and Cement Hoppers slammed together into a single piece. As BNSF 7240 crests into the very picturesque view point at Maine as the train gets every so closer to the top at Bellemont.
A seemingly redundant blue string fence beside a low breeze block wall. The brazen bracken has decided to make a break for it HFF & HTT!
Photo 65/100 my 100 x photos this year will be of foliage: so woodland scenes, individual trees, wild/garden plants and fallen leaves 🍁🌿🌲🍂
Seemingly permanently fixed to this train, 66734 heads north past Thornhill on 6G03, a Clitheroe to Mossend loaded cement diverted due to the Carstairs blockade.
Seemingly in preparation of the addition of a 4th track, and the beginnings of the new bridge over the Potomac, CSX and contractor Asplundh tree have been hard at work on the north end of the RF&P sub lately. A proper clear cutting (thank goodness) of the trees here has opened up new views at CP RO. On a gorgeous spring afternoon, M409 roars southbound with the Washington monument in the background. I'd imagine this scene will be changing a lot in the near future, and I was beyond excited to get this one done proper.
This shot has seemingly become the classic go to Flower & Garden Festival shot over the years. Still like a shot of Cinderella Castle it's hard to resist as it's just a perfect representation of the Flower & Garden Festival at Epcot. I have a couple different shots from this spot throughout the day in fact, but this one is my favorite thanks to the wonderful sky. The sky had kinda sucked for a lot of the day until a bit later in the afternoon the blues really kicked up in intensity and these wonderful clouds rolled in. They really help add a lot of interest to a shot that otherwise might not be as unique. I really loved too that this shot was with the red monorail. The red works really well and pops out in the shot whereas some of the other monorail colors blend in to the scene.
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Seemingly ex works 40071 coming round the corner at Clifton on the approach to York on 11 December 1976 heading the Heaton - Red Bank vans.
Seemingly none the worse for the 'incident' at Aviemore, 46464 leads 46512 in fine form towards Boat of Garten.
Biodiversity in a seemingly inhospitable environment. Temperatures and aridity are extreme (from a human viewpoint), yet this is the norm for the inhabitants on this sandstone in Arches National Park. At least 5 different species of lichens are present, with wonderful names like Caloplaca trachyphylla (the most abundant species) and Acarospora socialis (thanks to Erin Tripp for the identifications). How do they feed themselves? Lichens are a symbiosis between a photosynthetic organism (usually an algae or a cyanobacteria) and a fungus. The photosynthetic organism is responsible for obtaining food, and the fungus provides protection from harsh light and dessication. In some cases lichens can be parasitic, as seen here with the greenish lichen on the orange lichen.
Lichens are used to date events, since they leave a record of their growth. The rings are derived from one lichen growing for hundreds or thousands of years. Geomorphologists have used lichens to date glacial events, and archeologists use them to date artifacts.
Seemingly due to all the rain we've had recently a group of 7 deer, 3 adults and 4 fawns have been seen over in the memorial garden. On 2 occasions. Between showers yesterday and very early this morning.
In seemingly mint condition 68011 passes Stenson Junction road bridge at 11.37 on the 28th October 2014 working 0Z76 Crewe Gresty Bridge to Leicester and is seen here on its return to Crewe Gresty Bridge. Presumably a running in turn?
The i360 Observation tower in Brighton is incredibly slender and elegant as you can see here.
Seemingly there was also quite a campaign against it when originally proposed but was presumably it was deemed acceptable because like the same Architects London Eye it is a temporary structure.
Click here for more of my Brighton photos : www.flickr.com/photos/darrellg/albums/72157711496500242
From Wikipedia : "British Airways i360 is a 162 m (531 ft) observation tower on the seafront of Brighton, East Sussex, England at the landward end of the former West Pier. The tower opened on 4 August 2016. From the fully enclosed viewing pod, visitors experience 360-degree views across Brighton, the South Downs, the English Channel and on the clearest days it is possible to see Beachy Head 27 km (17 mi) to the east and the Isle of Wight 66 km (41 mi) to the west.
British Airways i360 was designed, engineered, manufactured and promoted by the team responsible for the London Eye. It is estimated by the developers that the i360 will generate more than 440 permanent jobs; 160 posts at the attraction, and additional jobs from the spin-off benefits to other businesses in the city. The attraction cost £46 million, with £36 million being funded by a Public Works Loan Board (PWLB) loan through Brighton and Hove city council.
Formerly known as the "Brighton i360", the project aimed to attract 739,000 paying customers every year. The owner of the site, the West Pier Trust, hoped in 2014 that a successful i360 would lead to the rebuilding of the historic West Pier. The i360 carried its 1,000,000th passenger on the 11am flight on 11 March 2019."
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