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"The paintings of the Fauves were characterized by seemingly wild brush work and strident colors, while their subject matter had a high degree of simplification and abstraction."
Seemingly oblivious to the three thousand tonnes of train bearing down on him, a farm worker saunters across the rail lines of the Jitong railway.
The exhaust from double-headed QJ locos fills the sky as they attack the initial gradient out of Jingpeng heading for the pass of the same name. Steam finished on the Jitong Line in late 2005.
Jitong Line, Nei Mongol, China. October 2004. © David Hill
"Thinking about Portreath Friday." The message was accompanied by a screenshot of a weather forecast that promised some bracing conditions for anyone who was prepared to get wet and risk a certain amount of seawater coming into contact with their camera if they didn't keep their wits about them. It took me about half a second to consider my options before replying that I would be there.
The previous conversation on Whatsapp with my daughter Nicky had centred on the relative merits of varying brands of vegetarian chorizo style sausages, so this was a bit of a departure. Probably a good thing because seascape photography is surely a broader subject with a more enduring conversation potential than meat substitute products.
I hadn't been to Portreath recently, even though it's so close to home, passing the summer crowds and heading along the coast in favour of the wilder and more open Gwithian and the increased opportunities for solitude that it brings. But when there's weather like this, Portreath Monkey Hut at high tide becomes a magnet to me. As the nights close in it's also one of only two places I can really get to after work now. Another week or two and I'll be limited to weekends unless I want to try some more astro-photography on a freezing cold night.
Surprisingly, and to our relief in this era of social distancing we had the place to ourselves, hiding behind the big wall that protects us from the elements here, occasionally popping up like meerkats to scan the horizon and hastily steal a shot from the driving elements that were coming straight at us. At one point a man stood on the quay below us, and before we could say anything a huge roller dumped its contents all over him, chasing him back along the yards to the relative safety of the inner harbour area. Every so often a substantial plume of spray and foam would rise into the air, giving us a split second to turn our backs and guard our precious camera equipment as it landed all over us. At least we were in a safe place, despite what misgivings the scene might be offering you.
And so for a while we watched the light fade as Storm Alex, the first of the season and named by our friends from across the Channel in France, battered the coast. As ever I couldn't resist trying a slightly longer exposure despite the rain and seaspray coming straight at us on the back of a fierce wind. With the trusty shower cap resting on top of the camera I dialled in my settings and tried my best to compose the image. Choosing the moment to expose the camera to the world and take a shot before quickly replacing the shower cap was one of pure chance, although I did manage to grab a small collection of images that I could barely see on my screen. Processing the RAW files also proved difficult and this is one of many versions of the same shot that I'm still struggling with.
But what I love is the drama, with the ever photographed monkey hut almost disappearing into the white water around it. I can't think of a better way to spend a Friday evening than trying to capture an image of the elemental fury around me. This is the Cornwall I love. Wild, brooding and ever changing in its moods where every outing brings challenges and my waterproofs are always in the car. The winter months are often seemingly endless, but if they bring out a passion you can completely lose yourself in, then what's not to love about them?
Again I was sat at home when the sky looked very interesting, so I nipped out to nearby Condor Green where the small River Condor enters the Lune Estuary.
I had seen this old, seemingly abandoned, boat stuck in the mud banks on the side of the creek a couple of weeks ago and I thought it would make an interesting subject, if the tide and the sky were right.
So I donned my wellies and made my way out to have a closer look. I was treated to some lovely light just before sunset as the sun then passed down into a bank of cloud.
A pedestrian bridge over Hardee Creek, seemingly being devoured by invasive kudzu.
Kirkwood Urban Forest Preserve
Atlanta (Kirkwood), Georgia, USA.
6 November 2021.
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▶ Photo by Yours For Good Fermentables.com.
▶ For a larger image, type 'L' (without the quotation marks).
— Follow on Twitter: @Cizauskas.
— Follow on Facebook: YoursForGoodFermentables.
— Follow on Instagram: @tcizauskas.
▶ Camera: Olympus OM-D E-M10 II.
— Lens: Olympus M.45mm F1.8.
— Edit: Photoshop Elements 15, Nik Collection.
▶ Commercial use requires explicit permission, as per Creative Commons.
A tiny bird seemingly overflowing with energy, the Ruby-crowned Kinglet forages almost frantically through lower branches of shrubs and trees. Its habit of constantly flicking its wings is a key identification clue. Smaller than a warbler or chickadee, this plain green-gray bird has a white eyering and a white bar on the wing.
A female bear (sow) nicknamed after her seemingly broken right ear @ Frazer Lake fish weir, Kodiak Island
I captured this image while heading out to enjoy a morning walk along the Hike-and-Bike Trail around part of Lady Bird Lake. This view is on the Pfluger Pedestrian Bridge with a setting extending to the southeast. Notable features in the image include the Union Pacific Railroad Bridge, the Sail building, and the currently under construction and tallest building in Austin, with a skycrane present. But what drew me into the setting was the lone person rowing at the time that morning. I wanted to put a focus on that person and worked to have that in the more open portion of the lake waters.
This seemingly idyllic spot in south Devon was involved in one of the biggest disasters in the Second World War.
This area was used as a rehearsal for the D-Day landings, as it resembles part of the Normandy coast. There were tragic results. Over 900 American servicemen were lost off the adjacent Slapton Sands while some 30,000 participated in the rehearsal for the D-Day landings at Utah Beach. Over 600 were lost at sea following an attack by German E-boats, while more than 300 were killed here and on the adjacent beach (out of shot behind the camera) from so-called friendly fire.
St. Antony’s miracle working icon holds place of pride among the large silver icons of the church. St Antony is a popular, benevolent saint, who, seemingly, has never failed to make a believer’s wish come true.
Altar Mayor de la Iglesia de San Antonio
El icono de milagros de San Antonio ocupa un lugar de orgullo entre los grandes iconos plateados de la iglesia. San Antonio es un santo popular y benevolente que, aparentemente, nunca ha fallado en hacer realidad el deseo de un creyente.
Bucharest. Romania Europe
~dear heartfriends~
these 3 prayers keep calling out to be shared ;) .. even tho' hadn't planned for an image until equinox..
above, a visual prayer for our One Earth and for All who inhabit her
it was a gift from jimmy billings that i've been saving through the years... seemingly for now.
❧
beneath, a prayer i say every day ... and which seems especially powerful for now
('us' may be changed to you, me, them .. and you can change 'Christ' to anything you wish..
like Breath of Life .. Peace .. Buddha... )
≈ prayer of saint patrick ≈
Christ be a Light, illumine and guide us
Christ be a shield, guard and protect us
Christ be above us
Christ be beneath us
Christ be beside us on left hand and right
Christ be before us, behind us, within us
and be all around us
Christ the lowly and meek
Christ the almighty
be in our mouths and the mouths of those who speak to us
be in our hearts and the hearts of those to whom we speak
and all who draw near us and see us and hear us
amen
❧
and here is a wee bit of a sacred, SO beautiful chant~prayer~song ≈ holy ground ≈ by peter makena *
❧
from my heart..
brightest greenest warmest Lovelight to You *
The land of Southern Utah is seemingly infinite. Will there ever be enough time to see it all. From the western border, across the face of the Colorado Plateau to the Rockies, there are not just canyons in great numbers and size, but quite literally thousands of ribbons of time cut deep and narrow into the sandstone. The sandstone has many colors, hues and textures. There is a different reality for those who explore it.
In a not so distant past, at least for our planet, a great transition occurred pushing ancient seafloors high above the inland seas. Water and wind carved the land creating the wonders we enjoy today. The expanse and elevation of the land brought many different, dramatic effects to Southern Utah.
This image is a composite with a tracked sky taken in November. The original shot taken last spring. I have placed the night sky in a natural position. It is possible to see and obtain this shot in the fall.
I really like this seemingly new metal outdoor public art piece that stands in the field across from the Amtrak Station down by Henry Hudson Riverfront Park. I googled for an hour and kept coming up empty as to who the artist is, what it is titled, and when it was created. If anyone knows more about it I'd be grateful for information. The bird aiming skyward atop the rusted pyramid...I'm not sure what it means but I found it appealing enough to try to frame it up with the train.
As for that, this is Amtrak train 238, an Empire Service run from Albany-Rennselaer to New York Penn Station leaning into the curve as it makes its on time stop here in Hudson. This view looks across the Broad St. crossing at MP 114.5 as they pause on Main 2 of Amtrak's Hudson Line, the former New York Central mainline. Leading the train in its sharp Phase III paint is GE P32AC Dual Mode 712 blt. Jan. 1998.
Hudson, New York
Thursday January 27, 2022
The (seemingly still working) odometer reading is only 44k.
Presumably this belongs to a long standing Volvo enthusiast in this area.
Parnassia asarifolia from Nacogdoches, Texas - November 2025.
P. asarifolia is primary a species of the southern Appalachians, where it is generally uncommon. There are also disjunct populations in southern Arkansas and eastern Texas. In Texas they're seemingly very rare, and I'm only aware of a single extant population. These were observed deep in a mucky, mossy forested seep in the shade of towering sweetbays.
A seemingly benign street picture until you see that sign.
I did not stick around to eavesdrop on their plans.
++ I gotta get me a new lens 😫
More from the abandoned houses on Hooper Road in Central, Louisiana. I saw a surveyor's stake, so they probably won't be there much longer.
I'd love to know the story behind this small group of deserted houses, as they are full of belongings that were seemingly abruptly left behind.
In the constellation Sagittarius, seemingly in the middle of the Milky Way, are two bright nebulae.
The Lagoon Nebula, the bright one lower in the frame, is a gigantic glowing cloud.
The Trifid Nebula (smaller, higher in the frame) is a composite of three nebula and an open star cluster. An emission nebula emits its own light (red), a reflection nebula (blue) and a dark nebula that looks like black lines on the glowing red (discernible by zooming in).
The Rebel T71 was modified for astrophotography.
52 images, 35 seconds, ISO 1600, f 8.0, Images rotated to a composite with Starry Landscape Stacker
With seemingly its favourite diagram to start the day , 43102 passes through Mexborough on the rear of the 1C15 0519 Leeds - St Pancras .
11 3 21
While seemingly small compared to the rest of the image capture, I was lucky timing to catch the Moon just above one of the rock formations in the left middle part of the image.
Seemingly this rat wasn't worried about the presence of nearby bird photographers.
Photographed at Old Moor Nature Reserve.
The seemingly plentiful Monarch butterflies this summer allowed me more opportunities to capture one in flight, something I had been trying to get for awhile.
Look down! Tiny blue winter speedwell blossoms have popped up, low down, in large numbers, seemingly overnight.
DeKalb County (Avondale Estates), Georgia, USA.
24 February 2022.
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▶ "Veronica persica —known as birdeye speedwell, common field-speedwell, Persian speedwell, large field speedwell, bird's-eye, or winter speedwell)— is a flowering plant in the plantain family (Plantaginaceae). It is native to Eurasia and is widespread as an introduced species elsewhere, including North America. [...] The short-stalked leaves are broadly ovate with coarsely serrated margins, and measure one to two centimeters (0.4 to 0.8 inches) long. The flowers are roughly one centimeter (0.4 inches) wide and are sky-blue in color with dark stripes and white centers."
— Wikipedia.
▶ This is a closeup. These tiny flowers appear much larger in the image than they did in 'real' life.
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▶ Photo and story by Yours For Good Fermentables.com.
▶ For a larger image, type 'L' (without the quotation marks).
— Follow on Facebook: YoursForGoodFermentables.
— Follow on Instagram: @tcizauskas.
— Follow on Threads: @tcizauskas.
▶ Camera: Olympus OM-D E-M10 II.
— Lens: Olympus M.40-150mm F4.0-5.6 R.
— Macro extension tubes: 26 mm
— Edit: Photoshop Elements 15, Nik Collection.
▶ Commercial use requires explicit permission, as per Creative Commons.
a cheeky little chippy, absconding with the bird seed right under our noses, and seemingly daring the photographer to do something about it.
x-t20, nikkor 300mm f4.5 ED IF, mild crop.
thank you for visiting, and for your kind comments and favorites. they are greatly appreciated!
Dave had already disappeared, seemingly swallowed by the forest and its secrets. Maybe he just wanted to escape the endless drizzle, but something told us otherwise. In the woods, Dave can see things that escape me entirely. We knew it would be at least an hour until we saw him again. Dave was entering Dave World, a place where everything makes sense and all is calm. He’d be just fine.
By his own admission, Lee wasn’t feeling the love. He couldn’t see the forest sprites emerging from the mist. “Everything is just a tangled mess!” he complained as he watched Carl and I creeping around the mossy boulders at the edges of this magical dark green world. Lee likes minimal, and this was anything but. Maybe he’d find a lone tree for his Leica somewhere outside the woodland. But with the filthy elements in such a persistent mood, his state of the art camera stayed in the bag.
On the walk from the car park, I mostly chatted with Carl. Carl and I had been “friends” on another platform for a couple of years by now, and although he only lives just over the border in west Devon, this was the first time we’d met. We had much to talk about, including his autumn workshop visit to Iceland, which had been interesting to say the least. We shared future plans, anecdotes on locations and even more importantly, he told us that the Fox Tor Cafe in Princetown had excellent reviews. That was lunch sorted then.
While Carl had been here a handful of times, this was just my second visit. The first time had been six years earlier, when I’d placed reasonably well in the over fifties category in a nearby 10k trail race that took us from the high ground at Castle Drogo down into the depths of Fingle Woods alongside the River Teign, another location I’ve long wanted to photograph but still not made it to. On that day my partner in crime was Emma, an old friend of many years whose race plan was always the complete opposite of mine. Whereas she’d charge off from the starting line like a bull at a gate, I’d struggle to find an early rhythm and be wheezing away like a broken accordion. Towards the end I’d be settled in, breathing evenly and feeling strong, by which time she’d be hyperventilating noisily and demanding more Haribo. We stuck together throughout the course, each taking turns to swear and curse at the other for dragging them out on a soaking March morning - all because the finishers’ medals looked so delightfully blingy. “Give ‘em a shiny thing for getting over the finish line and they’ll come in numbers,” said the organisers to themselves. The language from my companion in that last steep uphill mile was especially fruity that day.
After more than six miles of purgatory in running shoes, Emma had gone to spend the afternoon with her in-laws who lived nearby. I’d brought my camera gear with intentions to ignore the fast road and roll back across the moor. The wood had been one of the two places I planned to visit. “Now let’s see - trail running shoes, check. Compression socks, check. Waterproof winter trousers, check. Welly boots, double check.” It seemed I had everything I needed - except for the conditions. That day I carefully focus stacked a strangely symmetrical frame among the carnage, but in retrospect I’m not sure it was worth the bother. To make this place ping, you really need a bit of mist. Or a lot more skill in Photoshop than I possessed.
Today, six years later things were pinging quite nicely. I mean you can always have more fog of course, but the meteorological lottery was rewarding us well for our efforts. And we’d started very early, which you probably know isn’t my thing at all. In fact, when I later told one of you that I’d been up before 6am in preparation for this outing, he demanded to know who’d hacked into my Whatsapp and threatened to call the authorities. But yes, we’d arrived here at eight, met a few moments later by Carl, and slooshed our way through the mud to the woods, enveloped in a grungy grey curtain, just as we’d hoped for.
It might take a while to start to see things, but when you do, it’s really quite rewarding. Nick, who joined us a little later, has been here countless times, yet he told us he still often finds new shapes emerging from the mist. And now, as I stole away from the others and headed a few yards north, I found the lollipop stick, poking through a mossy “V” shaped frame. No faffing around with focus stacks this time, just a straightforward thumbprint on the main attraction and let everything else recede into a blur. There’s so much waiting here to be discovered.
Dave had that quiet smugness about him which always means he’s found a masterpiece. Carl looked happy enough too. Lee was chewing a Snickers bar. I think the Leica had come out briefly, but he was really saving it for the lone hawthorns we’d find elsewhere later. For three of us at least, the first full day had started well, but it was time to move on and find the next location.
You may say, "All gremlins are squalid, loathsome creatures!" and you would be right. But there are those gremlins so detestable as to cause ruin, madness, and death simply through their presence.
Of course in fantasy warfare, gremlins are not going to be seen fighting on the battlefield or anywhere else. The gremlin way is in the shadows to meddle, to destroy in increments. The presence of a gremlin is always known from the results before the gremlin itself is spotted.
Things stop working. Knots are undone, levers are broken, shoes are mangled, food is poisoned. At first seemingly ordinary failures but it quickly becomes apparent that it is sabotage rather than benign.
This is the case with all gremlins but the Squalid Gremlin is so vile, so repugnant that the effect on those it targets is madness and even death. More than simply the meddling and destruction, the Squalid Gremlin's presence is like a repulsive oil that clings to your psyche. A noxious odor, foul beyond description, fills and clouds your thoughts, though others cannot smell it. The deepest of depressions set in and despair begins to crush you until death seems like a sweet deliverance.
For these reasons, gremlins are utilized in single targeted attacks on enemy weapons and leaders, much like Scalesworn Specters, * Death Demons, ** and Gnoll Robbers. *** Gremlins in general and Squalid Gremlins in particular are feared by the forces of evil that employ them because they have no loyalty.
A gremlin is fiercely independent and goes where it wishes so many evil planners have themselves fallen prey simply by gaining the attention of the creatures. So, for gremlins to be effectively used against a target, situations must be created and designed so that the gremlin thinks it was their idea.
This requires careful planning and the only ones with any sustained success in the area has been the Nightfiends. ****
👾 Happy 🏰 Heroclix 🏯 Friday! 🐉
__________________________
A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.
* The Scalesworn Specters seen in BP 2020 Day 338!
www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/50680091997/
** The Death Demons seen in BP 2020 Day 290!
www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/50495700621/
*** The Gnoll Robber seen in BP 2021 Day 120!
www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/51148610748/
**** The Nightfiends seen in BP 2020 Day 304!
www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/50547322378/
Gremlins were also featured in BP 2019 Day 189:
www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/48231662567/
and in 13 Daze of Halloween 2020 Day 11:
A seemingly endless flow of coal trains fed Fiddlers Ferry Power station in the 1980's and ‘Grid’ 56030 is seen returning back to Yorkshire with an empty rake of MGR's.
* A note in my book says a pair of 25's were pushing at the rear as the 56 had a problem. Vaguely remember this and it was the kind of move that could happen at short notice on the pre-privatised railway back then.
Another in the seemingly endless parade of intermodal trains heads east on BNSF's Seligman Sub near MP 519X on Main 2. The legendary ex Santa Fe transcon cuts through the short rugged Kingman Canyon just railroad west of that small town that is the seat of Mojave County.
The train is passing over a dry wash on a deck girder bridge on Main 2, the higher of the two main tracks here. For a 13 mile stretch between Griffith and Kingman the two main lines do not share the same right of way making for some interesting and fun photo opportunities that can also be challenging if you don't know whether to expect an eastbound or a westbound and are set up on the wrong track.
Mornings in Kingman Canyon are times well spent!
Mojave County, Arizona
Sunday May 19, 2012
Six months ago and seemingly showing no signs of their impending demise, Royal Air Force Panavia Tornado GR.4 ZA612/074 blasts away from RAF Marham's Runway 19
Now the last of the last are on their retirement tour and I'm hoping to catch the three 'Tourists' over Boscombe Down tomorrow as they complete day 2 out of 3 with appearances over many airfields and installations around the country synonymous with this wonderful aircraft that has been at the forefront of our Royal Air Force for over three decades!
IMG_9619
Some of the seemingly ever-increasing number of large, bland lumps of architecture that have been shoved into the Fountainbridge area in recent years as student blocks (don't mind some in the neighbourhood mix, but we just keep getting more added instead of building new blocks for permanent residents, which is a bit shortsighted in terms of the local community wellbeing). As with a number of other insipidly bland buildings, they look better at night, shot in monochrome!
Recent storms in the U.K. have damaged and destroyed so many trees, both ancient and not so old. This ancient Elm has survived several storms in recent weeks yet other seemingly stronger trees in the vicinity have fallen.
With the seemingly endless steely grey skies finally
giving way to some sunny weather, BR Blue liveried Class 20, No.20189 and London Transport maroon liveried 20142 'Sir John Betjeman' are captured blasting across the Fens passing Australia Farm crossing (between Turves and March) leading 1Z39, the 07:22 London King’s Cross - Norwich excursion.
37407 'Blackpool Tower' tails the lengthy consist having previously worked the first leg from London to Peterborough.
Seemingly marking a path across Dartmoor within the National Park, this standing stone leads the eye up to the tor behind. The shape of the summit of the hill shows clearly from this side why it gained the name Saddle Tor. All the rocky hills on the moor are known as tors.
Seemingly intertwining dune ridges, swept clean of marring footprints by the last night's winds, make for a soft golden abstract in the moments before the sun inched higher and harsher light invaded the landscape--at Mesquite Dunes, Death Valley National Park, California.
There is so much to love about these (or many other) dune fields, but high on the list is the fun of putting on the long lens, climbing up the shifting sands of a higher ridge, and looking far and wide for abstracts among the endless patterns and forms offered by the ever-shifting dunes. There's also some sort of contemplative joy just being out on those dunes awaiting sunrise. I imagine the vast time needed for the ancient, rigid features of the surrounding mountains to be broken down, piece by tiny piece, and blown into the valleys below, only to spawn these granularly ephemeral but generally durable forms.
Perhaps the sense of quiet plays a role as well. Despite all the tracks you see evidencing little creatures skittering across the sands, I almost never hear any bird or animal sounds heralding the coming dawn. Even when the winds surge to whistle low streams of sand rushing across the basin, and up and over each individual dune, rarely is that enough to shake my reverie.
Thanks for viewing.
There are seemingly thousands of Canadian Geese living on Sandbar Island - as dusk approaches they take off to who knows where... every so often a flock will swoop over your head, honking like a traffic jam.
The CPR Bridge is my favourite thing about Saskatoon thus far... outside of school, of course.
This image is Copyright © 2010 Dawid Werminski. All rights reserved.
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