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Seemingly, little more than an infrequently used farm track, this trail leads from Loch Duntelchaig and Torness to Inverfarigaig,
over the “lip,” above the southern shore of Loch Ness.
Like a rocky, bumpy, knobbly “Inselberg,” Roche moutonée or mini-Sugar-loaf, capped by a single pine-tree, this hill stands starkly above seven “switchback” bends that take it down 200 metres or 650 feet to the famous loch.
Across the chasm, and in shot, is the monolith of Meall Fuar-mhonaidh, at 700 metres or 2,300 feet.
A series of varied and startling landscapes occur in rapid succession on and around the fault line, called “The Great Glen.”
Local WD 90417 runs light by rakes of laden Coal Wagons seemingly perched on various inclines - Sunderland, 20/6/67.
Seemingly up before the birds this morning, 92014 leads 1M16 through Winwick with the 1M16 Inverness to London Euston Caledonian sleeper service. The time was 04:29 and the service was running an impressive 28 early at this point. The service was held more or less to time at Crewe and eventually arrived at it’s destination 1 min behind plan. This was my first time catching 92014 on sleeper traffic having only previously capturing it on GBRf auto traffic between Garston and Dagenham following overhaul several years ago.
Been on an epic streak here in the bay area. Seemingly non stop goodness not only with the great weather, but the spirit is high with the Giants being in the world series for the 3rd time in 5 years.
I was aiming to do at least a one minute exposure, but people were running on the pier and shaking my shot. Would click shutter and then 10 secs. later someone would come running around the corner with their dog and shaking the pier. So then I would cut it short and then try again, but it never failed, more people just kept coming and running by with their pounding feet. Then you had those people who would stop and want to talk. Lol. I'm always nice to people, but just keep clicking away as their talking, so I don't miss the best part.
Look closely and you can see the skyline lit up orange ;)
Nikon D810
24-70mm
f/11 @15secs.
ISO 320
Noir was the first artist to illegally paint mile upon mile of the Berlin Wall. Noir wanted to perform one real revolutionary act: to paint the Wall, to transform it, to make it ridiculous, and ultimately to help destroy it. Noir's iconic, bright and seemingly innocent works painted on this deadly border symbolised a sole act of defiance and a lone voice of freedom.
‘Schplendid’ decline, a natural going away with the waveforms of sunlight, winds and rain slowly eroding everything seemingly diligently taking all of what is til nothing will remain. All the while the guardian stands watch making memories of even older dread ghost of man's tormented slaves free expressions of intricate passions delivered for sensation rather than for continued ‘rememberation’ all woven in light and in shadow, woven into so many songs on the winds and embroidered in fine worked detail with the rain til only the rocks and their hollows remain.
Too many reflections loaded and here I am loading more. These are the end to the reflections as the personal intrusion was the end my friend. No worries about being personally intruded, it is just the way it is, was and hopefully will be. Please step in, out and walk all around my pictures, your pathways are more important than my pictures. When everything else is in balance I try to take an image and create a picture hopefully in harmony.
There are some good links below. My reflected images don’t get many views, here they are though. Some pictures I take I see the reflection opening up the scene. Here the dark cross caught my eye and the potential to extend the original image from a landscape orientation and then from a portrait orientation fired my mind and then, and then someone rose from their lower perspective photography and stood in my scene. Suddenly I was woken from my image making dream. They were a great photography companion and the only reason that I was there and out and about with a camera. No shade on them for elevate themselves from a close-up photography Yoga pose focused on a flower I believe. They can puncture my composed dream frames anytime, also in any place and in all space and none, even if their puncture power means the dream scene has gone.*
The Sun will shine and cast shadows and in inspecting them we can tell the time. We can see line and with a care we can watch the minutes and hours pass as the line moves. If we wish we can look at light as the generative creator of life and we can see shadow as an opposition a place that will not respond to the clarion call of the Sun. Shadow and shade bring about their own distinct wonders and Shadow is created and directed in constant movement by light of varying intensity. We humans have considered good and bad omens from the force of the Sun and from the reaction of shade, shadow and subterranean sunless places as well as the phase of the Moon displaying reflected radiance of the Sun and at times the Moon shrouds the Sun in eclipse of amazing exactness gifting sight of the edge the immediate crown of the star that illuminates us and leaves us to the further distant view of the other stars and planets by night. All this to say Sun and Shadow, direct light and reflection and refraction all the time in world seemingly making and recreating signs and symbols that we divine as the language of light and the symphony of dark. Light is light and lack of light is either less, or even total darkness with no need to try to read the light and to listen to the dark. After this mention of omen and even prediction everything below this is information about the absolutely stunning location.
Hawthornden Castle stands atop several layers of caves that have been extended into amazing chambers visited by many famous people on their Scottish tours. The castle is one of three close together all taking advantage of the steep escarpment that offers natural rock protection above the North Esk river flowing swiftly below. Roslin Glen is home to Rosslyn Castle and many believe the Holy Grail resides here too, there are wonderful legends and fantastic natural formations throughout the glen, plenty enough to enjoy even beyond the quest for the Holy Grail.
Linked below are Hawthornden Castle, near Edinburgh by Alexander Nasmyth from the Google Art Project and both Roslin Glen cared for by Rosslyn Chapel Trust, as well as Roslin Glen Country Park and also Wallace’s Cave, the other cave and prehistoric rock carvings.
The Hawthornden Foundation is linked below they are a part of bigger project with events and hosting writers to stay in places such as Hawthornden Castle for a month of focused literary working days.
*The Dream Scene Puncture Repair Kit is currently available from the Akashic Records at wherever you usually Yoga access them. They can help you achieve stone solid results and icon Sphinx like waking scenes and also avoid all frame puncture at every photographic juncture. Higher State close lens search for Dream Scene Puncture Repair in Khemtastic Pack IV Pharaoh Awakes near potential pyramid lakes. If you have not found The Dream Scene Puncture Repair Kit then join the rest of us that either have to recompose and take another dream scene, or move on literally figuratively and even spiritually if your dream close to fulfilment was such a wondrous scene.
© PHH Sykes 2024
phhsykes@gmail.com
Hawthornden Castle
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hawthornden_Castle
Alexander Nasmyth - Hawthornden Castle, near Edinburgh - Google Art Project
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Alexander_Nasmyth_-_Hawthornde...
Hawthornden Foundation Hawthornden Castle
www.hawthornden.org/hawthornden-castle
Hawthornden Foundation
Wallace's Cave, cave and rock carvings SM6825
portal.historicenvironment.scot/designation/SM6825
ROSLIN GLEN AND HAWTHORNDEN CASTLE GDL00327
portal.historicenvironment.scot/designation/GDL00327
Roslin Glen
Rosslyn Chapel Trust is responsible for the conservation and care of part of the picturesque landscape known as Roslin Glen, which is adjacent to Rosslyn Castle and Rosslyn Chapel.
www.rosslynchapel.com/about/roslin-glen/
Roslin Glen Country Park
www.midlothian.gov.uk/directory_record/171/roslin_glen_co...
Roslin Glen Country Park
'Wallace's Cave'
canmore.org.uk/site/51808/wallaces-cave
Archaeology Notes
Roslin Glen And Hawthornden Castle
Date of Inclusion: 31/03/2001
1:20,000Map Scale:
Council: Midlothian
Designation Reference: GDL00327
portal.historicenvironment.scot/document/600000778
The monument known as Wallace's Cave, cave and rock carvings
portal.historicenvironment.scot/document/600012599
Tags
Guardian of Scotland, Hawthornden, Castle, Wallace Cave, Gorton House, Roslin, Rosslyn, Glen, rock, carving,
Seemingly the first day in weeks we finally get to see some sun here in the Twin Cities. Here we are behind Providence Academy in Plymouth with foreign power leading a CP train westbound with the fall colors starting to peak. The trees and bushes in this area are really starting to fill in and will limit photo opportunities in the future. Not so long ago this was a wide open field.
Seemingly being of that age means Alzheimer's is kicking in which may explain the lack of coaches :P
Grand Central's 43480 heads north through Morpeth whilst working 0S04 Heaton - Craigentinny Rail Operations Group move. 07/10/16
Seemingly to the complete surprise of nearly everyone a thunderstorm moves into Santa Monica just before sunset on March 7th, a day after more typical rain storms had seemingly finished moving through. Down on the beach unsuspecting runners and bikers are about to get dumped on along with this photographer who would make a retreat just after clicking this shutter. While there were a few distant clashes of thunder this storm would do what most similar storms have done in the past which is to immediately begin to die upon entering the Los Angeles Basin. Without the forced uplift provided by the Santa Monica Mountains, there just wasn’t an environment to keep the convection going much longer. That would not stop the storm from dumping its accumulated moisture. It was a nice surprise and provided spectacular clouds just before sunset.
During a seemingly simple dropping mission, Gi.joe was caught up in a fierce gunfight with some Cobra forces who were located nearby.As soon as it begun it was over, leaving several Cobra's dead and wounded. Unfortunately the Joes had some casualties on their own. One of the two men who were gunned down is the legendary Super Trooper, thought to be invinsible, a human bulldozer. But one well aimed shot has put an end to the one man army....
Eventhough the Joes won the fight...they lost the battle this time. The squad retreats to lick it's wounds and form another plan.....
A seemingly innocent and lovely new tradition symbolizing eternal love has spread to the Headlands of the Golden Gate Bridge. The weight of this love declaration on the Pont des Arts in Paris caused a collapse and some consider it vandalism. But as you can see, California always has room for love.
The seemingly most advanced of the two chicks is becoming fractious and getting ready to fledge - much more active today. Here caught getting in shape.
This seemingly ordinary shot took hours to process because I had to figure out how to get rid of the haze behind the ferry. Hong Kong has gotten so hazy during the daytime in recent years. I remember it wasn't like this before. Must be all that pollution from the factories.
Behind the historic Star Ferry is the Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition Center.
Taken on the ferry ride over to Cheung Chau.
Please do not use my pictures without my permission.
A menacing sky dominates the seemingly boundless meadows of amber grasses. Grant's Gazelle graze nervously in the open pasture. There is a cheetah nearby, and she represents the greatest threat to their safety. Genetic studies of these medium sized gazelle reveal a high degree of genetic variability. This suggests that over time populations of Grant's were isolated from each other. Males, like the two in this photo, will compete for dominance and the right to mate with females. During mating season the males will attempt to herd any females that enter their territory, and defend that herd from competing dominant males. Males that have not attained dominant status frequently live in bachelor herds. These beautiful gazelle are known for their lyre-like horns, that can show significant variability from animal to animal. Listed as animals of least concern, because of their great success and numbers, they are frequently taken for granted by visitors to the Serengeti. They and their many cousins are an integral part of the African ecosystem and should never be overlooked. #iLoveNature #iLoveWildlife #WildlifePhotography in #Tanzania #Nature in #Africa #GrantsGazelle #DrDADBooks #Canon #WildlifeConservation
The Flash ran throw the streets of Central City, checking down every alleyway and every back street seemingly at once. Time seemed to stand still every time he began to run. For every step the average passerby takes, the Flash can take up to a hundred without any effort. Topping out at just under two hundred and fifty miles an hour. This is the speed that the Flash can go with the same amount of comparative effort as it would take a normal human to run as a normal pace. The sound barrier, something the Flash has broken on many occasions, requires a speed five hundred miles more just to break it. With this in mind, how much effort do you think it takes for someone to break the time barrier.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It’s been a while since I’ve ran beside someone. Yeah, Linda and I go on the occasional run together, but that’s at a normal human pace. That’s not even a fraction of a fraction of the speed at which I can run. Don’t get me wrong, I love running with Linda. It’s one of the times I cherish most with her. We’re both together working towards the same goal, but it’s different. When I ran with Barry I could run with all my might. I was running to see how fast I could go. I was running to test my abilities. There’s no real obligation I have to do that now. No one will notice me doing so…
(KRAKUM!)
The speed force is opening up? That’s impossible. Unless…
The Flash begins to run to the cause of the sound. He’s got a hunch that the Speed Force opened up just outside of Keystone City. With that, he finds himself at a crossroad right outside the city limits. Much to his suspicion he sees a breach. Seconds pass and a red and white blur flies from the breach and lands at Wally’s feet.
”Who are you?” Wally says as he grabs the figure and lifts him to his feet, making sure to be ready to have the upper hand if a fight were to break out.
“My name is Bart Allen…” Before Wally can answer to the kid’s remark, the kid goes on, ”and you’re Wally West… This is so crash! I’m in the past!”
”What? How do you know my name?”
“I’m from the future.” Wally raises one eyebrow in confusion and crosses his arms. “I can see you’re confused. Let me explain…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Read this to see Bart’s explanation: www.flickr.com/photos/74727595@N05/30822666673/in/datepos...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
While part of me doesn’t believe this story, I can’t not believe it. The breach in the speed force and his costume seems to point the fact that he is from the future. Whether or not his story is true is hard to tell. I can sense that he’s a good speedster as I feel his connection to the speed force. So that’s good.
“So you just encountered Black Flash, right?”
”That’s what I told you.”
“That’s so crash. That means I’m in…”
”I’m sorry to interrupt, but you’ve got to go back to your time.”
“What?”
”You can’t be here. You’re an anomaly in time. You shouldn’t be anywhere except where you were put.”
“And what about Booster Gold? You don’t seem to have a problem with him running amuck in the timeline.”
”He’s really from the future? I thought he was just making that up to help his ‘rise to fame’. No matter. Just because one person is doing something doesn’t give you the right to do it yourself.”
“You sound like my father.”
”Who is your… Y’know what. Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“So, what do you want to do know?”
”Do you not understand me? You need to…”
(BOOM!)
“Sounds like we’re needed…”
In a yard seemingly full of former Lancaster Leyland Atlanteans, the camera has focused on URN 207/208V. Both are AN68A/2R models with East Lancs 78 seat bodywork, new in December 1979.
Following the acquisition of Sheffield Omnibus by Traction Group, both buses were transferred to Barnsley & District (nos. 300/301) in 5/95, but moved again, in 12/95, to Lincolnshire Road Car (nos. 707/708).
The Seer seemingly chooses the path of solitude... but as Counsel to the Kings, Healer of the Sick, and Friend to the Common Man his journeys take him to every corner of the Kingdom and beyond. And along the way he changes the fortunes of those willing to see what he has seen, to hear what is foretold, and to believe in wonders from another World.
After a seemingly interminable winter, Scotland was finally blessed with some sun this past weekend, so we went for a wander around the beautiful campus of Glasgow University. This photo was taken in the Gothic-style cloisters on the grounds, and is notable for encompassing two of my latest loves: the backpack John got me for Christmas (bringing me one step closer to my dream of one day being Lara Croft), and my brand-spanking new, ultra wide-angle lens which has (quite literally) opened up a new world of possibilities in my photography.
(Glasgow, 2015)
With Denver Union Station seemingly peeking into the trainshed, California Zephyr dome-observation “Silver Solarium” is seen on Track 5 on the warm Colorado night of October 15, 2014. This Burlington car, along with former Pennsylvania 10-6 sleeper “Silver Rapids” (PRR’s contribution to the “Zephyr pool” of transcontinental sleepers) saw many visits to Denver Union Station before, but not under this futuristic-looking trainshed! The 1881-built station underwent a multi-year renovation, with trains moving back to Union Station on February 28, 2014, and a grand opening of the facilities on May 9, 2014, making it a modern transportation hub, with the building now hosting a 110-room hotel, shops and restaurants, as well as Amtrak functions.
The seemingly endless beach of La Baule and.. the Aérodrome de La Baule-Escoublac! Even when I'm not looking for airports they find me ;)
La plage (interminable) de la Baule !
Credits: ESA/NASA
134E3497
Seemingly weightless gliding into the sunset is one of the most remarkable experiences you can have.
Seemingly lost in time these two symbols on the flank of an old Pullman-Standard H54B class covered hopper tell a story of both promise and failure.
The "mating worms" logo and faded jade green paint are relics of the mighty and massively flawed Penn Central that came into existence on February 1, 1968 as rivals NYC and PRR merged into a massive 20,000 plus mile system. But when this car was built in August 1974 the PC was under the control of a trustee having imploded and filed for bankruptcy in June 1970 rocking the industry and the government as the nation's sixth largest company became its largest corporate failure in history to date.
Below that symbol of one the the industry's greatest failures is another symbol of the 60s that offered promise and hope but that also died by the 1970s. These colorful bars are something known as an ACI label. ACI stood for Automatic Car Identification and it was adopted by the AAR (Association of American Ralroads) in 1967 when Sylvania's KarTrak system was chosen for implementation industry wide. But by the 1977 the AAR abandoned the system for several reasons and the colorful stripes seen here painted on when this car was delivered new, served no purpose for nearly all of the car's life.
However, both of these promises of the 60s, that failed in the 70s would lead to dramatic successes continuing inti the present. The failure of the Penn Central directly led to the creation of Conrail and more importantly the deregulation of the industry as a whole. As a result northeastern railroadinf survived and became profitable and the industry as a whole saw a tremendous resurgence in the 1980s and 90s that has lasted into the 21st century.
Meanwhile, though ACI was an utter failure, the bar code technology it pioneered came to revolutionize inventory and shipment tracking systems worldwide and the little black and white bars are ubiquitous on nearly everything we purchase. And railroads finally did find an automated car tracking system that worked in the form of the passive RFID system known as AEI (Automatic Equipment Identification) that now is found on every railcar in service in North America. If you're interested in learning more about ACI this is a neat little article I found: tedium.co/2017/09/05/kartrak-railroad-barcode-history/amp
Unincorporated Landisville
East Hempfield Township, Pennsylvania
Saturday April 3, 2021
The seemingly unchanged village of Strelley in Nottingham looked a good place to take the Ford Prefect for a breeze out and the chance for a few photos. All Saints church and its surrounds make for the backdrop.
Seemingly harmless, these Legume caterpillars are a problem in south Florida for an odd reason...they wreak havoc on plastic microtubing in commercial crop irrigation systems in citrus groves...they eat entrance holes in the plastic pipes and go inside the pipes to pupate, damaging them! How weird! I think around here they are better behaved and just eat the leaves of Bagpod Weed (Sesbania vesicaria)...
It had been several years since I'd last seen one of these small caterpillars and I was just thinking about them on my hike the other day before coming across this tiny young instar! Funny how that works out sometimes...
See below for a more mature example...so skinny!
Berowald Innes had had a lot of time to think as he walked. After all it had been a long journey since he left his ship on the south coast, run up on the shingle beach before it could sink with a large hole in the bow. He knew it had been foolhardy to see how far he could sail with his eyes shut. But that was the sort of idiotic thing he did when he was young, as a means of establishing how far he could push the limits when he was exploring the world. It was a crazy idea. His inertial sense of direction was not as good as he thought it might be. He had lots of mad ideas at that age, and the excitement of self-discovery was irresistible to him.
But now it seemed he had been walking north for so long, seemingly almost back to the start of time and dinosaurs, he thought. Yet he knew the year was 1160. Even now more random thoughts fed through his head as he ambled along the rough path through the Secret Valley. He always hated walking on limestone, unless it was finely crushed. But here it was the lumps of white rock you find that had been eroded from the landscape above him and had rolled and washed into the bottom of the deepening ravine where he trod. In parts the path had become a stream, rainwater and snow melt funnelled into the vee of the valley and he cursed as he tripped and stumbled on the uneven stones, slipping on the edges worn smooth by the feet of passing traveller’s, horses and cattle. Now it was drizzling too, making him cold and damp. And to add to his woes the cheap cape and boots he had bought in Rocester further down the Limestone Way were already falling apart. The trader had promised the boots were waterproof but already his feet were cold and wet, and the rabbit skin pelt around the hood was falling apart. Each time the wind blew the side of the hood against his cheek bits of the poorly tanned fur stuck to the moisture of his mouth leaving him spitting and wiping at his lips to remove the soft hairs. Again he chided himself. The woman who saw him haggling over the items with the stall owner in the market had rudely interjected that the products were shit and he shouldn’t hand over any money. But, as he tripped over another lump of limestone, he admitted to himself he had foolishly ignored her advice. Thank god she wasn’t around to see herself proven right. But why did he always think he knew better?
He had almost forgotten about the small grey mutt that tracked him. She had been tracing a path higher up the slope, parallel to him up on the right hand, snout to the ground as she sought scents, but suddenly he heard her sharp bark. It pulled his mind back to the here and now and he raised his eyes to focus on the route ahead to see what made her shout her warning to him. The little schnauzer had spotted a group of five wild ponies, long manes and tails waving in the wind. Their heads were erect, looking towards him. Stood proudly at the front, in defence of the group, stood a magnificent white stallion. Behind, a beautiful white mare peered over his shoulders whilst two brown and one grey female stood gathered behind.
The sight of them took him by surprise. He had walked hundreds of miles and his feet were weary. His knees ached. And he so badly wanted to bathe in piping hot water and have a close shave. He deserved a rest. But now he was in a remote valley, and ….he swivelled round, eyes scanning the skyline to check for anyone else....he could grab one of the ponies and save his legs. But first he needed to consult where he was. You could very quickly find yourself hanged, drawn and quartered if convicted of stealing some lord's animals, so he better check who they might belong to first. Rooting around under his coat he felt the folded parchment and pulled out the battered old Anglo Saxon map. It was ancient and filthy and hadn't been updated with the latest castles, roads and walls but his index finger soon traced the line between Rocester (or Rowcestre as the old monks still referred to it as) and the Norman tower at Castleton. Something in the back of his mind reminded him these were the lands of the baron, William Peveril the Younger. And these would be his ponies he surmised. Yes, reading the landscape in relation to the map in his hands, he reckoned he was about to enter Cave Dale and soon he should see Peveril Castle below.
"OK!", he thought. "My feet are hurting so much on these blasted chunks of limestone, I shall take a pony and if confronted say that I am borrowing it to rest my feet until we get across to Lose Hill and there I shall set it free again, still in Peveril's lands. But of course if I get as far as Lose Hill I shall keep the mare until I reach my journey's end in Morayshire, more than 500 miles to the north. But,...…. hey-ho! Still seeing what I can get away with!", he thought. "Incorrigible. Or just downright baaaad!"
But surely he couldn't get into too much trouble anyway? He had stopped to chat to travellers coming the opposite way last evening and heard that King Malcolm IV of Scotland had just stayed at Peveril castle a few days earlier. And lo and behold it was only the same great man that had bestowed the Lands of Innes on himself, Berowald!!! He had never met the king himself but the Royal Charter had reached him when he put his ship into port in Flanders. It was his reward for his prowess shown in sea battles against troublesome French forces in the Bay of Biscay. And now he had a title! "Yay! Berowald!! The first Innes of Innes! But first he had to travel to the north of Scotland to take up his title and oversee his lands. At this rate it might take him a month!
He decided. Looking directly to the stallion he connected eye to eye, and after a pause moved quietly and confidently towards him. The pony stood stock still until Berowald suddenly leapt to grab a firm hold of his mane. He bolted immediately rushing to go by his left side but it was exactly the move Berowald wanted to help swing him up onto the ponies back. But he turned and raced downhill into the gorge of Cave Dale. Woah, what a mad ride, terrifying as the pony cantered down the rough path of limestone chunks, with no reins, saddle or stirrups to keep him on the pony but once again he did that crazy thing and closed his eyes, just knowing this could only end in disaster.
It might have lasted ten seconds, perhaps twenty, may be even thirty. It made no difference. The pain came just as suddenly. He tried to read the ponies direction through his knees, feel the shifting forces, adjust his centre of gravity but he knew he had lost the fight when he suddenly became weightless and wondered briefly how great the agony would be. Or would he just slowly fade after some body breaking impact and never................
He crashed hard, the air of life crushed out of him. He could not breathe, his body in spasm from the collision with the ground. He gasped for breath but his diaphram would not allow air to enter his lungs as he rolled on the cold wet grass bank fighting to draw breath. It came eventually as he overcame the feeling of dying and he was able to look around and take stock of his situation. He felt sore especially through his ribcage but testing his arms and legs he was relieved to find nothing seemed to be broken. However his head was muzzy and putting his hand on his scalp brought a sharp pain and left blood on his fingers. But he saw the white stallion stood further down Cave Dale and his dog trotted over to nuzzle her whiskers on his face and check he was still alive.
Gradually he sat up. And then he heard laughter from above and behind him. He looked round and up, eyes rising up the cliff face and then onto the stone walls of the Norman castle. Three faces peered down from the crenelated top. And a raucous feminine voice yelled out. "Ha! Ye try an' steal my ride, ye bastard!" in a most uncouth manner. "Who the feck are ye?"
Berowald was most taken aback. "Well....well...." he stammered. " I am....I am Berowald. First Innes of the Inneses and baron of the lands of Morayshire". And gathering some fortitude, retorted in a style he thought she might understand,, "And who the feck are ye?"
Well, she scowled down at him, "I am the porter of this castle and I have two watchmen here, and I saw ye try to steal my horse, for which I shall punish thee, ye entitled bastard baron!" And with that the faces disappeared from the castle top.
Shaken from his fall off the steed and bewildered by the strange challenge from above he started to stagger unsteadily back to the path through Cave Dale, below the castle.
But once again he was surprised to hear a shout from behind, and turning saw to his horror, the three from the castle running down the slope full tilt towards him. Between the two burly looking henchmen he now saw the female porter, somewhat weird with her minxy little figure, rushing, screaming and spitting entitled, class hatred obscenities at him. He recoiled as the big men grabbed his arms and held him fast as the toxic female confronted him face to face. "So, I have my next victim!" she cawed like a banshee."Take him to the tower!"
His feet barely touched the ground as the henchmen gripped him from either side and forcibly took him up the slope. Resistance was futile and even if he broke away he reckoned the female porter following behind would wrestle him to the floor. He had noted her well toned build and strong shoulders and, whilst an intereeesting thought, wasn't sure he could beat her in a grapple on the ground.
Once through the castle doors he was pushed towards the spiral staircase and a couple of firm hands between his shoulder blades propelled him upwards. Berowald assumed he was being taken to the upper halls but at each level he was shoved onto the next upward spiralling staircase until they arrived out on the top of the tower overlooking Cave Dale and the surrounding Hope Valley. He saw the white stallion far below and his little grey dog howled and yelped, abandoned below the castle walls Turning to face his captors he tried to read the situation, and didn't give much thought to the contraption positioned out over one corner of the square tower. 'She' arrived on the tower top and he backed away, until he could retreat no more, up against the wall surrounding the castle top. she had a smile on her face which he found unnerving. She had power. She knew she was in control. He was at her mercy.
She didn't even speak before the two thugs she called watchmen, stepped forward and clasped their hands around his arms and walked him across to the other corner of the tower: the one upon which the contraption sat. It was constructed out of wood, laths of beech and thin sheets of board. It had a few wrought iron parts but was largely help together with leather bonds, an assembly of heavy duty kites. One of the watchmen reached to stand the contraption vertical on its tail, pushing the baron back against it. He had no idea what was happening, transfixed by the threatening stance of the female porter in front of him, so that it was too late when he realised his wrists were quickly tied with leather thongs to the strange contraption. And when they bent to tie his ankles and bind his thighs to it he looked down and around with increasing fear to work out what sort of torture she had planned for him.
"Ha!" she cackled. "Ye, steal my horse. And now ye shall pay! Marko, face the plank out over the edge" And with that Marko and the other watchman flipped the contraption round so that it, with Berowald fixed to its underside hung out off the highest part of the castle. Fear turned to terror, as he saw the rocks and ground below .
"Nooooo!" he howled. "What do you want? I didn't steal your horse. Please! Please, don't hurt me! Please tell me what you want!"
"Haha!" she cackled yet again, " I want to play with thee, my little guinea pig! Marko, …..Anders.... Ready???..... On my order, push him off the wall!"
"Push!!" she yelled!!
Berowald, 1st Innes of Innes did all he could do and screwed his eyes shut. He whimpered and screamed "Noooooo!" as he felt the board tilt forwards and down and then a rush of wind. He flailed with his arms and legs, fighting against the bindings that held him to the construction. They gave a bit but all that happened was that the boards hinged and flapped, faster as he became more frantic in the few seconds before he was dashed on the rocks below.
But he wriggled and fought, kicked and flapped with more strength than he thought he could ever muster and awaited the final impact that would crush all life from his body. But, but he kicked out, legs and knees getting tired, flapped, shoulders and elbows stretched and torn with pain, but no life ending crash. Not this second or the next.
Sheer terror forced his firmly closed eyes open......ground below, speeding forward, a racket of flapping panels and boards about him, a white pony, small against the gorge, a little grey dog running along to keep up, small houses, a town below...Oh my Lord!!! He was flying like a bird!!!! And looking back towards the castle through the thrash of his flapping arms and legs he saw the female porter standing on the top of the fortress tower, a huge beaming smile on her face.
He crash landed for the second time in the last hour in a muddy field beyond Castleton. He was so relieved to be alive and even without any serious injury that it was some time before Berowald, 1st Innes of Innes and baron of the lands of Morayshire, appreciated that he had become the first man to fly and survive. Icarus had failed when he flew too close to the sun, and his wings made of wax, melted. But Berowald made his mark in history a full 743 years before the Wright Brothers.
OK, then, that was a load of shit. But some of it is factually correct.
Putting up my seemingly endless supply of images from our holiday in Scotland last year, I thought the Flickr Map gave a good visual indication of the amount of travelling we did, almost covering the length and breadth of the country!
Then, it was just a case of getting the right level of zoom to be readable, and then scrolling around to get enough screen captures so that a mosaic could be made.
With time seemingly running out on the MK50-3s and non-orange consists on the Kyle, it seemed like a reasonable time to post this shot.
Kyle train SALI (Salina-Limon) is westbound through Siebert, CO bound for the UP interchange in Limon, CO. What was a sizeable train of nearly 100 cars when I began "chasing" this one east of Goodland a couple of days prior whittled down to the small consist you see here.
A seemingly homeless man on the streets of Raleigh who lost his way in life and can't seem to find the right direction to begin the long journey back... unfortunately I doubt he still has the energy to seek the help he needs.
My friend Michael made a shot of him too and put a different look on his image so go take a look:
A seemingly forgotten, frozen-in-time, abandoned Super Stop & Shop along Beverage Hill Road in Pawtucket, and a stone's throw from the Rumford town line. This store closed up around 2010 and sits vacantly today in a half-dead Narragansett Park Plaza.
Not without effort, the town still has a bombastic plan to redevelop into a multi-mixed use site.
Seemingly surrounded by lube oil drums and other depot detritus that the H&SE would frown on nowadays as a trip hazard the engine room compartment window, cab door and window have been left open on 'Regent' to provide cooling on a hot summer day.
Now seemingly unused First Bradford DAF tow wagon A353TVV. Does anyone have any info as to its history? A quick Flickr search only brings up shots of it in this condition at Bradford depot...
Seemingly homeless woman walking around at night in the Melbourne CBD with her cat in a bubble backpack. © Henk Graalman
Sitting quietly and seemingly largely ignored, Locomotive Services Limited’s 82139 waits for the carriages to clear of passengers from 1Z89 1515 Norwich to Crewe, Inter-City Tours ‘The East Anglian’ before it takes the lead for the short ECS move 5Z90 2100 Crewe to Crewe H.S. as far as Gresty Green Through Sdg where the stock will reverse again to access LSL’s Crewe Holding Sidings. Wednesday 16th March 2022
Seemingly glued to 'Pomorzanin' services 04.53 Gdynia Gł-Wrocław Gł over the visited period to Poznań is 'pseudo' BR electric blue liveried EP07-1051 seen passing Luboń k/Poznania heading for Leszno.
With AC Loco Group support and co-ordinated by Wolsztyn Experience the re-livery complete with BR Lion and Wheel insignia was applied at ZNTK Oleśnica workshops earlier that year.
Recent and extensive route remodelling has swept away most of the old character and features of this and other local stations.
20th October 2008
Very happy to spot these prefacelift Escorts, seemingly much rarer than the MkIVs. This must be an extremely late example of the prefacelift, as it was registered on Christmas Eve 1992, over 3 months after the facelift was released. This model was slated as being a bad car, so I bet the first owner got this one really cheap, despite being top spec. I don't think these nice Ghia alloys lasted very long at all...
This car has a fair amount of dents, including a sizeable one on the rear boot lid. However coming up to its 23rd birthday in a few days, it's done very well. The MOT mileage checker suggests it's a low mileage car, and now does very few journeys it would seem. Just 74 miles between September 2014 and October 2015. It would seem it at one time travelled out of the country however, judging by the GB oval. Hopefully this nice car will continue driving for much longer.
Registration number: K502 EYV
✔ Taxed
Tax due: 01 October 2016
✔ MOT
Expires: 08 October 2016