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“Summer is a period of luxurious growth. To be in harmony with the atmosphere of summer, awaken early in the morning and reach to the sun for nourishment to flourish as the gardens do. Work, play, travel, be joyful, and grow into selfless service. The bounty of the outside world enters and enlivens us.”
Paul Pitchford
TRAJECTOIRE DE VOL D'AMAL LARHLID EN HOMMAGE À LA REINE ELIZABETH II SUIVIE PAR FLIGHTRADAR24
AMAL FLIGHT PATH IN RESPECT FOR THE QUEEN ELIZABETH II FOLLOWED BY FLIGHTRADAR24
La pilote Amal Larhlid est montée à bord de son Piper PA-28 cette semaine pour rendre hommage à la défunte reine Elizabeth II et collecter des fonds pour Hospice UK en réalisant le plus grand portrait de la reine au monde. Le vol de deux heures a couvert 413 kilomètres, créant un portrait de 105 km de haut et 63 km de large au nord-ouest de Londres.
Avant de s'envoler, Amal explique qu'elle a converti un portrait de la reine dans un format reconnu par le programme de planification de vol ForeFlight. Bien que cela ait facilité la planification de l'itinéraire, Amal a dû faire attention à l'espace aérien restreint le long de la route. Larhlid a également planifié l'itinéraire sur des cartes manuellement en guise de sauvegarde, en utilisant des points de repère.
La planification comprenait également plusieurs vols d'entraînement afin de se familiariser avec la trajectoire et les virages nécessaires. La météo a été un facteur déterminant, puisqu'elle a fait échouer sa première tentative en début de semaine.
"En tant qu'ambassadrice de Hospice UK, je voulais récolter des fonds pour une organisation qui fait un travail important et rendre hommage à un symbole de service et d'altruisme", explique Mme Larhlid. Elle vient de terminer son vol et a déjà atteint 20 % de son objectif de 5 000 £.
Pilot Amal Larhlid climbed aboard her Piper PA-28 this week to pay respect to the late Queen Elizabeth II and raise money for Hospice UK with the world’s largest portrait of the Queen. The two hour flight covered 413 kilometers, creating a portrait 105 km tall and 63 km wide northwest of London.
Before taking to the skies, Amal says she converted a portrait of the Queen into a format recognized by flight planning program ForeFlight. While that made planning the route easier, Amal still needed to be cautious of restricted airspace along the path. Larhlid also planned the route on charts manually as a backup, using landmarks.
Planning also included multiple practice flights to get the feel for flying the required track and turns. Weather was the major factor as it scuttled her first attempt earlier this week.
“As an ambassador for Hospice UK I wanted to raise money for an organization that does important work and pay respect to a symbol of service and selflessness,” says Larhlid. Having just completed the flight, she’s 20% of the way to her goal of £5000.
drive.google.com/file/d/1X9yPk0zowXaXV0_C06txLOg0CG3Dsw3Q...
Please, watch my slideshow (see the link above - as I cannot upload it here - too big for Flickr - sorry!) that I would like to share with everybody - just a little Thank You to all doctors, nurses and everybody who gives a helping hand in a selfless way to sustain and heal... to comfort and being there!
Model: Karen Johnson
Make up artist: Otoi Mercado
Lighting info: 1 SB-800 @ 1/32 camera right, 1 SB-800 @ 1/64 behind model aimed at camera left
Explore: 161 on Tuesday, December 18, 2007
For Girls Theme Week Live: 7 Heavenly Virtues
Humility (modesty, opposes Pride) Modest behavior, selflessness, and the giving of respect. Giving credit where credit is due; not unfairly glorifying one's own self.
On 6 September 2025, Parliament Square was transformed into a stage for a rare act of mass civil defiance. Beneath the gaze of Gandhi’s statue, an iconic symbol of non-violent resistance, hundreds gathered in silent protest against the British government’s decision to outlaw Palestine Action.
في يوم 6 سبتمبر 2025، تحوّل ميدان البرلمان إلى مسرح لفعل نادر من العصيان المدني الجماعي. وتحت تمثال غاندي، الرمز الأيقوني للمقاومة السلمية، اجتمع المئات في احتجاج صامت ضد قرار الحكومة البريطانية بحظر حركة "بالستين أكشن
("Palestine Action")
They stood with cardboard signs, each one hand-lettered with the same simple message: “I oppose genocide. I support Palestine Action.” Every participant knew the risk. Under Britain’s terrorism laws, even this quiet declaration could mean arrest, prosecution, and a lengthy prison sentence, as the state now brands peaceful dissent and protest as terrorism.
One man quietly handed out information leaflets to onlookers which cut through the mainstream media narrative: Israel has killed over 63,000 Palestinians in Gaza, driven 90% from their homes, and deliberately starved children by cutting off food and medicine.
International genocide scholars, the United Nations, Amnesty, Human Rights Watch, and even Israel's human rights group B'Tselem all agree: this is genocide, not “conflict.” Britain, by arming Israel and silencing its critics, is complicit in genocide.
These protesters acted with selfless courage to protest that. They acted because silence would mean complicity and because a crime of this scale cannot be ignored.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Protest and the Price of Dissent: Palestine Action and the Criminalisation of Conscience
Parliament Square on Saturday, 6 September 2025 was a scene of quiet, almost solemn defiance. The air, usually thick with the noise of London traffic and crowds of tourists, was instead filled with a palpable tension, a shared gravity that emanated from the quiet determination of hundreds of protesters, many of them over 60 years old, some sitting on steps or stools and others lying on the grass.
They held not professionally printed banners, but handwritten cardboard signs, their messages stark against the historic grandeur of their surroundings. This was not a march of chants and slogans, but a silent vigil of civil disobedience, a deliberate and calculated act of defiance against the state.
On that day, my task was to photograph the protest against the proscription of the direct-action group Palestine Action. While not always agreeing entirely with the group’s methods, I could not help but be struck by the profound dedication etched on the faces of the individual protesters.
As they sat in silence, contemplating both the horrific gravity of the situation in Gaza and the enormity of the personal risk they were taking — courting arrest under terror laws for holding a simple placard — their expressions took on a quality not dissimilar to what war photographers once called the “thousand-yard stare.” It was a look of weary but deep and determined resolve, a silent testament to their readiness to face life-changing prosecution in the name of a principle.
This scene poses a profound and unsettling question for modern Britain. How did the United Kingdom, a nation that prides itself on its democratic traditions and the right to protest, arrive at a point where hundreds of its citizens — clergy, doctors, veterans, and the elderly — could be arrested under counter-terrorism legislation for an act of silent, peaceful protest?
The events of that September afternoon were the culmination of a complex and contentious series of developments, but their significance extends far beyond a single organisation or demonstration. The proscription of Palestine Action has become a critical juncture in the nation’s relationship with dissent, a test of the elasticity of free expression, and a stark examination of its obligations under international law in the face of Israel deliberately engineering a catastrophic humanitarian crisis in Gaza.
To understand what is at stake, one must unravel the threads that led to that moment: the identity of the movement, the state’s legal machinery of proscription, the confrontation in Parliament Square, and the political context that compelled so many to risk their liberty.
Direct Action and the State’s Response
Palestine Action, established in 2020, has never hidden its approach. Unlike traditional lobbying groups, it rejected appeals to political elites in favour of disrupting the physical infrastructure of complicity: factories producing parts for Israeli weapons systems, offices of arms manufacturers, and — eventually — military installations themselves.
Its tactics, while non-violent, were disruptive and confrontational. Red paint sprayed across buildings to symbolise blood, occupations that halted production, chains and locks on factory gates. For supporters, these were acts of conscience against a system enabling atrocities in Gaza. For the state, they were criminal disruptions of commerce.
That clash escalated steadily. In Oldham, a persistent campaign against Elbit Systems, a key manufacturer in the Israeli arms supply chain, culminated in the company abandoning its Ferranti site. Later actions targeted suppliers for F-35 fighter jets and other arms manufacturers.
These were no random acts of mindless vandalism but part of a deliberate strategy: to impose costs high enough that complicity in Israel’s war effort would become unsustainable.
The decisive rupture came in June 2025, when activists infiltrated RAF Brize Norton, Britain’s largest airbase, and sprayed red paint into the engines of refuelling aircraft linked to operations over Gaza.
For the activists, it was a desperate attempt to interrupt a supply chain of surveillance and logistical support to a state commiting genocide. For the government, it crossed a line: military assets had been attacked. Within days, the Home Secretary announced Palestine Action would be proscribed as a terrorist organisation.
Proscription and the Expansion of “Terrorism”
Here lies the heart of the controversy. The Terrorism Act 2000 defines terrorism with unusual breadth, encompassing not only threats to life but also “serious damage to property” carried out for political or ideological aims. In this capacious definition, breaking a factory window or disabling a machine can be legally assimilated to mass murder.
By invoking this law, the government placed Palestine Action on the same legal footing as al-Qaeda or ISIS. Supporting it — even symbolically — became a serious offence.
Since July 2025, merely expressing support for the organization can carry a maximum prison sentence of 14 years.
This is based on Section 12 of the Terrorism Act 2000. The specific offense is "recklessly expressing support for a proscribed organisation". However, according to Section 13 of the Act, a lower-level offence for actions like displaying hand held placards in support of a proscribed group carries a maximum sentence of six months imprisonment or a fine of five thousand pounds or both.
Civil liberties groups and human rights bodies have denounced the proscription move as disproportionate. Their concern was not primarily whether Palestine Action’s tactics might violate existing criminal law. One might reasonably argue that they did unless they might sometimes be justified in the name of preventing a greater crime.
But reframing those actions as “terrorism” represented a dangerous category error. As many pointed out, terrorism has historically referred to violence against civilians. Expanding it to cover property damage risks draining the term of meaning. Worse, it arms the state with a stigma so powerful that it can delegitimise entire political positions without debate.
The implications go further. Proscription does not simply criminalise acts. It criminalises expressions of allegiance, conscience and even speech. To say “I support Palestine Action” is no longer an opinion but technically a serious crime. The state has moved from punishing deeds to punishing expressions of solidarity — a move with chilling consequences for democratic life.
Parliament Square: Civil Disobedience on Trial
It was this transformation that brought nearly 1,500 people into Parliament Square on 6 September. They knew what awaited them. Organisers announced in advance that protesters would hold signs reading: “I oppose genocide. I support Palestine Action.” In doing so, they openly declared their intent to break the law.
The crowd was strikingly diverse. Retired doctors, clergy, war veterans, even an 83-year-old Anglican priest. Disabled activists came in wheelchairs; descendants of Holocaust survivors stood beside young students. This was not a hardened cadre of militants but a cross-section of society, many of whom had never before faced arrest.
At precisely 1 pm, the protesters all sat or lay down silently, cardboard signs raised. There was no chanting, no aggression — only a quiet insistence that they would not accept the criminalisation of conscience.
The police response was equally predictable. Hundreds of officers moved systematically through the crowd, arresting anyone displaying a sign. By the end of the day, nearly 900 people were detained under counter-terrorism law. It was one of the largest mass arrests in modern British history.
Official statements later alleged police were met with violence — officers punched, spat on, objects thrown. Yet independent observers, including Amnesty International, contradicted this. They reported a peaceful assembly disrupted by aggressive policing: batons drawn, protesters shoved, some bloodied.
www.amnesty.org/zh-hans/documents/eur45/0273/2025/en/
Video footage supported at least some of Amnesty's report.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mZQGFrqCf5U&t=1283s
The two narratives were irreconcilable, but only one carried the weight and authority of the state.
The entire event unfolded as political theatre. The government proscribed a group, thereby creating a new crime. Protesters, convinced the law was unjust, announced their intent to commit that crime peacefully. The police, forewarned, staged a vast operation. Each side acted out its script. The spectacle allowed the state to present itself as defending order against extremism — while in reality silencing dissent.
The Humanitarian Context: Why Protesters Risked All
To see the Parliament Square protest as a parochial dispute over free speech is to miss its driving force. The demonstrators were not there merely to defend abstract principles. They were responding to what they, and a growing body of international experts, describe as a genocide in Gaza.
By September 2025, Gaza had descended into almost total collapse. Over 63,000 Palestinians had been killed, the majority of them women and children. More than 150,000 had been injured, many maimed for life. Entire neighbourhoods had been flattened.
Famine was confirmed in August, with Israel continuing to impose and even tighten deliberate restrictions on food, water, and fuel, a strategy condemned by human rights groups as a major war crime. Hospitals lay in ruins. Ninety percent of the population had been displaced.
It is in this context that the term genocide has been applied. Legal scholars point not only to mass killings but also to the deliberate infliction of life-destroying conditions, accompanied by rhetoric from Israeli officials dehumanising Palestinians as “human animals.” In September 2025, the International Association of Genocide Scholars declared that Israel’s actions met the legal definition of genocide.
www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cde3eyzdr63o
Major NGOs, UN experts, and even Israeli human rights groups such as B’Tselem echoed that conclusion.
For the protesters, then, the question was not abstract but immediate: faced with what they saw as a genocide, could they in good conscience remain silent while their own government criminalised resistance to it? Their answer was to risk arrest, their placards making the moral connection explicit: opposing genocide meant supporting those who sought to stop it.
The Price of Dissent
The mass arrests in Parliament Square were not an isolated incident of law enforcement. They were the product of a broader trajectory: escalating tactics by a direct-action movement, a humanitarian catastrophe abroad, and a government determined to suppress dissent at home through the bluntest of instruments.
The official line insists that Palestine Action’s campaign constituted terrorism and thus warranted proscription. On this view, the arrests were simple enforcement of the law. Yet this account obscures the deeper reality: a precedent in which the state redefined non-lethal protest as terrorism, shifting from punishing actions to criminalising expressions of solidarity.
The cost is profound. Once speech and conscience themselves become suspect, dissent is no longer tolerated but pathologised. The chilling effect is already evident: individuals weigh not just whether to join a protest, but whether uttering support might expose them to years in prison. Terror laws, originally justified as a shield against mass violence, are recast as tools of political management.
The protesters understood this. That “thousand-yard stare” captured in their faces was not only the weight of potential arrest, but the knowledge of Gaza’s devastation, the famine and rubble, the deaths mounting daily. It was also the recognition that their own government had chosen to silence them rather than address its complicity.
In a functioning democracy, the question is not why citizens risk arrest for holding a handwritten cardboard sign. It is why a state finds it necessary to treat that act as a terror offence. The answer reveals a narrowing of democratic space, where conscience itself is deemed subversive. And that narrowing, history teaches, carries consequences not just for those arrested, but for the society that allows it.
Y esta es para todas vosotras. Siempre abnegadas, siempre preocupadas por vuestros hijos. Sean pequeños o mayores.
En algo se tiene que notar, que nos llevásteis nueve meses siempre con vosotras.
Un abrazo para todas!!!
And this is for all of you. Always selfless, always concerned for your children. Small or larger.
In something has to be noted , took nine months we always with you .
A hug for all!
"When we know that another depends on us, we are spared the despair of living for ourselves alone."
-- Mervin B. Tomsky
~ Have a blessed Sunday my dear friends!
This is a dedication and thank you to Venicio Armin
Thank you, my friend, Venicio
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8H29XVCOt8M
Best Movie songs of all time – for you Venicio
There is no greater gift in life than the gift of Love. Love comes in many forms to us. Love in its purest form, free of attachment to any outcome. Just a genuine desire to enhance other’s lives and to give of oneself in a selfless way. It can come to us in the Gift of Friendship.
I have always known that love transcends time and space and that no matter where we are in this vast universe, energy can be felt across the cosmos from those that we encounter. Every now and then such an intense exchange of energy takes place between two souls, it is powerful beyond words. At these times I am always in awe of the magnificence of this world and of people’s hearts and minds. To be able to sense and feel another person whom you have never met or seen is quite remarkable to experience.
This is dedicated to my dearest friend Venicio who continues to touch my soul to the depths of my core. I lose count how many times when I open mail or read his posts when my mind is not opened in ways that provoke all kinds of imaginings. His poetic ability to piece together the written word in such a way that it is like a magnificent orchestra that plays the most beautiful of harmonies that my heart cannot help but sing to.
That first spark of emotion that brings me to tears is a beautiful experience, I take in the beauty savouring my tears against my flesh as they roll down my face. My heart fills with overwhelming gratitude and love at these times. Venicio has the ability to evoke such deep emotions within me on a regular basis. Venicio, you bring a light and joy into my life that no one has done for me in such a very long time.
How does a person continue to provoke such emotion in another? Venicio does this time and time again and I am so truly blessed and honoured that he takes time to mail me directly in personal emails. These emails have become such a treasured chest of the greatest wealth that no amount of money can buy.
How blessed that I am on the receiving end of this man’s talent and beauty and receive the gift of his friendship in such profound ways. I am truly honoured and so very grateful for the gift of friendship from this amazing soul whom I have come to love deeply through our written words to one another. Our sharing of private messages has been and is a great blessing in my life. The sharing of words is not of any kind of romantic nature, it is simply two souls in an exchange of heart, soul and minds merging with one another. It is truly the most magnificent experience with Venicio.
Venicio continues to open a whole new world of vocabulary that never ceases to amaze me since English is not his first language. I find myself regularly having to google the meaning of a word or google a phrase or an event that I have never heard of before that he might reference.
His vast mind, intelligence and knowledge is like an encyclopedia. I am truly just a humble woman and lack the intellectual skills and often fail miserably in my attempts to respond to such greatness. Beyond this incredible intellect of Venicio – is a man of true depth of heart and soul. A beautiful soul who reached out to me privately some years ago now with profound words that touched me deeply – he continues to do this over the years.
It is such a rare gift to find in a soul on this planet, that unique combination of talent – his talent in all honesty is that of Brilliance! this alone is such a rarity to find in a person but his ability to open his heart, share so much with me and he comes from that deep core – that place that only a person who has known great suffering can speak from. He speaks with compassion, integrity, and honesty, he is raw in his emotions, and this is a rare quality in any individual.
I am in constant awe and gratitude to you Venicio – words regularly fail me when it comes to responding to you. A brilliant mind, a remarkable man and I want you to know that I love you from the depths of my core and thank you for all that you bring to my life. My life is truly richer because of you, you bring the ‘sound of music’ to my life through your written words like no other has ever had the ability to do.
This poem is still today one of the most beautiful poems to me, – I gained permission from the author many years ago to use this poem where needed (without gain or profit).
Venicio – stand with me on the edge and let’s shout at the silvery moon – we have both stood on the edge and shouted to that silvery moon and we have not run or hidden from our pain – instead embraced it and slap it in the face and fight to climb that mountain once more.
“The Invitation” by Oriah Mountain Dreamer
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure
of being alive!
It doesn’t interest me what “planets are squaring your moon”.
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened
by life’s betrayals -- or, have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to “hide it” or
“Fade it” or “fix it”.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and
let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes! -- without cautioning us to “be
careful”, “be realistic”, or to “remember the limitations of being human”.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you’re telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another -- to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.
I want to know if you can be faithful, and therefore be trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not pretty every day, and if you can
source your life from God’s presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours, and mine, and still stand on the edge of a
lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”
It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up after a night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the
bone -- and do what needs to be done -- for the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you are or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me -- and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me where or what or “with whom you have studied”.
I want to know what sustains you -- from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep -
- in the empty moments.
You have done just that Venicio - sat with me in my vulnerability, when I have been naked and raw in my emotions and not shivered away or tried to fix or save me.
We have my friend stood naked in the sense of removing all masks and veils of concealment with one another. That is such a rare gift between two souls. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all that you are and all that you bring to my life.
I wonder sometimes how God blessed me the day you came into my life. Bless You Venicio ♥
Half Dome From Snow Creek, Sunset. Yosemite, California. Peter was a consumate professional, and I was in awe of someone who was making his living working as a photographer, always busy, always travelling. He seemed so self assured, and seemed to bounce from heel to heel ready to start the next project. It was all film then, no digital, no instant feedback. He solved exposure and composition problems like it was the easiest thing, while I, trying to become serious about my photography, struggled to figure out why some things came out good and others so wrong. He was so patient giving me answers, advice, and critique...and there were endless war stories of his job as a commercial photographer. Looking at my work from then, I don't know how, but I guess he saw some promise in me. When an opportunity came for a firm who needed some landscape work, he pushed me out there to be recognized as a photographer. For that I am eternally grateful. We'd instantly start in on equipment and techniques and artists whenever we met up, and I would sometimes bring him some of my prints, hoping to get feedback. He instinctively knew exactly what I had been drawn to in any photograph, and would sweep his hand over that part of an image like a magnet. It was always such a confirmation, so selflessly given. We both loved black and white, and of course we both loved Ansel...what photographers don't eventually beat that conversation to death? He told me more than once of a cherished trip he took to California; his awe, like mine, of Yosemite, and his quest for an original Adams print. I mostly do color work, but from the first time I timidly brought him a monochrome print to give me suggestions, his eyes lit up and his smile said it all. I floated off the floor getting that reaction from him. A couple of years ago, he got sick. I brought a black & white print to him in rehab, and watched his eyes light up, even though his words wouldn't come as easy as before. I did good. When I left, I sat in my car and cried, sad for my friend. A couple of weeks ago I ran into his son. I said I'd go up and bring him another print, because it had been awhile, and I had been remiss in not visiting. But of course I delayed, and I need say no more. There will be no replacing his swagger, his stories, his way of making you feel like you were the most important person for him to talk to. There is no replacing his inspiration. This is for Peter. You didn't know it was coming, and I'm sorry it's late.
Excerpt from tourismhamilton.com:
Hamilton Skies (13): My project was aimed to honour Canadian veterans of the Second World War. As well as the machinery that delivered these men to victory. The artwork tells the stories of the veterans from both our community and country who selflessly risked their lives for the greater good of Earth. Ideally people will be reminded of this deep history and heroism on the daily while interacting with the display.
One of the greatest personal influences in my life passed away this weekend. I met him at University when I started my music fraternity, and he embraced me like I was a music major even though I was a Physics and Mathematics major. He invited me to his office to play my compositions and gave me feedback, praise, and critique. He was a powerhouse of passion and was one of the most selfless people I've known.
Godspeed Doc- you will always be a part of my life. OAS AAS LLS. All Hail!
Theme: Guitar Tuesday
Year Fifteen Of My 365 Project
Knowing how disappointed I had been at missing shots like this, a few weeks ago, Bev sat back [in fear of scaring this Common Lizard away]. She had spotted it but let me get the best shots, she really is so kind! They stayed for quite a while, seeming calm as they'll be used to seeing people entering the reserve. I'm told that this is a "Gravid" or pregnant female.
Excerpt from toronto.ca:
Set on the Garrison Common, part of the old military grounds at Fort York, “Everyone Wants a Free Baby!” plays with themes of birth, power and collective experience. A toy baby will be regularly shot from a customized cannon, slowly descending towards the crowd below, as if dropped by the fabled stork. This project will invite the audience to consider creation and destruction as parallels to two of our strongest and most complex human instincts: the desire to nurture and the need to compete. Pitching violence against tenderness and greed against selflessness, the work will playfully ask the audience to participate in an act of transformation themselves. One of the most recognizable symbols of warfare in Western culture, the cannon, will be turned into a generative tool, literally launching new life into the audience’s midst.
Mothers can sacrifice almost everything for her child.why they are so selfless and why we are so selfish? We often hurt our mothers.but we don't even think once . We do care about something when we lost it .but it will be late then .One cant replace it ever.Just think once
I made the trip to Ground Zero for the 18th anniversary of the attacks of September 11, 2001. Emotions run rampant as I stood and tried to imagine the mind bending horror, that unfolded on this very spot, 18 years ago today.
The bravery of the HEROIC first responders selflessly charging into the burning monolith, which would soon collapse, is as mind bending as the horror itself.
I found myself standing in front of a section of the memorial clearly set aside for Firefighters lost.
This is Callie.
She has a kind heart.
A very dear friend of mine gave her to me for my fourteenth birthday, and ever since she has been my confidante, a constant.
That's not something you can say about people.
She is selfless and compassionate, and she will never tell me that my pain is wrong.
She has never hurt me, she has never done me wrong.
Because its these hearts that we create, the ones that are not plagued by human error, that are pure. Her heart is mine, magnified, without the scars. Without the selfish desires. Her heart is what I wish mine was.
For yesterday.
Dear Mother Earth,
You have to be one of the most incredibly beautiful planets in the Galaxy---
very possibly the known Universe...
Sometimes Your Radiance , Your Power,
Your Wonder,
take my breath away....
--Thank You for an ever-changing kaleidoscopic Sky, and the fresh clean Air flowing from Your vast Forests of towering, waving Trees.
--The amazing endless Oceans and Seas...
Rivers, Lakes, Streams and tiny Ponds filled with Life.
--Ever-rolling Hills and Mountains.
Valleys, Gorges...
Topography that surprises and dazzles
....that we could never imagine on our own...
Wondrous Animals, Birds, Fish, Insects--
... creations beyond belief or understanding.---- Life in unparalleled array and design.
Thank You for the Miracles and Mysteries.
Colors, and gentle Breezes.
Symphonies of sounds.
Scents that lift my head, and softness that draws my fingers to it...
Billions of selfless offerings to overwhelm our senses, and fill them to overflowing.
---and Thank You, most sincerely, for this gift beyond price...
--- My Life....
Love,
Your Daughter
*********************************
Newly emerged Monarch Butterfly on Salvia.
(Danaus plexippus)
---click on image for detail--
I chose this image because it represents, to me, the beauty of Earth, and the plight that she is in.....
EyeLure Costume
High up on Olympus Cupid (in my version it is a she ^^) watches the mortal world seeing who she can shoot with her arrow for Good or Ill.What Puny Mortal ?you thought love was only for lovers?Love is Patient and Love is Kind yes but there are many sides to love.
8 Different Types of Love
“Eros” or Erotic Love. The first kind of love is Eros, which is named after the Greek god of love and fertility. ...
“Philia” or Affectionate Love. ...
“Storge” or Familiar Love. ...
“Ludus” or Playful Love. ...
“Mania” or Obsessive Love. ...
“Pragma” or Enduring Love. ...
“Philautia” or Self Love. ...
“Agape” or Selfless Love
"Denial will not save you when Cupid's arrow find its mark!"
Today marks the 10 year anniversary of 9/11. It is still a painful day for so many and one that seems like it was just yesterday. On that day, we saw the worst of humanity but we also saw the absolute finest, through the selfless acts of heroism from the firefighters, rescue workers and police and also from the generosity and love that poured in from people all around the world. All of that is what fills me with hope when I reflect on that day... a day we must never forget.
On that day, our entire extended family was leaving for a 2 week trip to Italy. I was getting ready early that morning when my Mom called to ask if I had the TV on. I told her no and I proceeded to talk about how excited I was for our trip and that I was almost ready to head to the airport. She told me I needed to go turn the TV on....
Where were you when you heard about 9/11?
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“Sometimes since I've been in the garden I've looked up through the trees at the sky and I have had a strange feeling of being happy as if something was pushing and drawing in my chest and making me breathe fast. Magic is always pushing and drawing and making things out of nothing. Everything is made out of magic, leaves and trees, flowers and birds, badgers and foxes and squirrels and people. So it must be all around us. In this garden - in all the places.”
― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden
In solitude I find the strength
to meet each day with joy
walking in the depth of nature
praying for each girl and boy
In prayer I ask not for myself
but for the Hand of God
to wipe away the flow of tears
to let no-one ever be forgot
In nature I absorb the lessons
it teaches to my soul and start
to let the sounds of birdsong echo
in step within my beating heart
Since I was a little girl
I learned by heart the words of God
and those that reached to me in darkness
brought forth the light that stifled every waking sob
Now I have found my voice in song
in poetry and art
and share with you my thoughts and fears
the inner workings of my loving heart
I pray for all the World; give hope
and praise those selfless souls
who give their lives as Jesus did
to save us with their actions bold
Now is not the time for separateness
now is the time one heart, one mind
one soul; creates a better world
for me, for you and all mankind
- AP - Copyright © remains with and is the intellectual property of the author
Copyright © protected images please do not reproduce without permission
Dedicated to all peoples of the World. Never before have we been so united in our endeavour to eradicate an indiscriminate, invisible common enemy. May our egos and petty grievances be cast aside. May we be one Family. In the eyes of God we are all one. He makes no distinctions, good or bad. He forgives us for our human frailties. For those who do not believe in God, please open your minds to this thought. God may be invisible to you, but so is this disease, yet you know it is there, so why not God too … God loves us all whether or not you believe in Him, that is your choice and He gave to us free will. I believe because I have been and seen living proof, many times throughout my life, since I was seven years old. My life has been difficult and fraught with loss and illnesses and yes, hatred has been directed at me for being different; for speaking out. I have known what it is to be truly alone in childhood and growing up; to not being believed or listened to or loved, but I was born a fighter with an indomitable spirit and that doesn't mean being violent or hard. There is strength in being gentle; in being gently spoken. There is strength in love and there is strength in Faith. Even during this global pandemic I have been bullied on here for my words and had people try to alter other's opinions of me, but it does not matter. I am not important. I let my ego go a long time ago. I choose love. I spent two years of my life in silence; not speaking; not smiling. I found my voice again, but I also found you do not need to speak to make yourself heard ...
Please take good care of yourselves and of each other. You are all in my thoughts and prayers. Yesterday I learned a good friend of mine has Covid-19. He reached out to me to reassure me. He is a beautiful person. A beautiful soul. If the only thing we do today is say one word or perform one act, may it be a kind word spoken in love; may it be a selfless act of kindness xxxxx
I hope you enjoy my video. The song, I recorded recently while I was not well, and the video is a compilation of clips I filmed within my beautiful gardens. I hope it brings some solace in these difficult times. I hug you all and pray for everyone to remain safe and healthy and for those of you who may already be sick, I pray for your complete recovery <3
So how did I come to have such Faith in God and Humanity, with the life I've had … I have few memories of my parents. I don't recall my Mum ever mentioning God, but my Dad did, so maybe that was the seed that began to grow in me …
All I know is that if you find yourself in a sea of tears that is growing deeper by the day, and below you, your feet are paddling wildly beneath the water, like a Swan (think how serene the Swan appears to be on the surface), trying to keep your head above; trying to keep yourself afloat; trying to stop yourself from drowning. The ocean is choppy and growing ever deeper and your feet cannot touch the bottom, while overhead the storms are raging all around you and lightning is shooting randomly from the sky. Every strike feels like you are dodging a stray bullet from some unknown enemy. You feel yourself growing tired; exhausted from the constant fight, but then someone throws you a lifeline and you cling to that small float like your life depended on it, because it literally does and then a small crack appears in the sky and a little sunlight filters through; the clouds begin to part; the sea begins to gently still and you feel yourself transported towards the shore; your feet find firmer ground and suddenly, you are walking along the beach and that small seed that lay dormant deep down in your heart and soul, begins to grow until one day, it becomes the tallest tree; the highest mountain. You thought you could never come this far; you thought that you could not climb this high. That one small seed planted so long ago can be
summed up in a single word … HOPE and to me FAITH and HOPE walk hand in hand; side by side. If I can do this, so can you, for I am nothing; I am no-one special. God bless <3
How much suffering, even today, is aggravated by hopelessness and loneliness? That is more the rule than the exception—from stigmatized AIDS patients to cancer patients, the mentally ill, prisoners, the homeless, beggars, and the elderly, all of whom are isolated from day-to-day society. If the contemporary Westerner, so bent on his comfort and entertainment, has a weakness, it is his inability to deal with suffering—that of others and of himself. As much as possible, the sick and the poor are concealed from sight, sometimes even “put out of their misery”. Contemporary man wants to run away.
But Damien’s witness shows that beauty, joy, and human dignity can be found even in the deepest misery—perhaps precisely there. He did not surrender to hopelessness; by itself, his loving presence brought hope. Our time has a great need for such heroes. It is not enough to protest against injustice or to work for better social structures: a witness becomes genuinely relevant only through loving and selfless presence among the poor.
-The Spirit of Father Damien JAN DE VOLDER The Spirit of Father Damien The Leper Priest—A Saint for Our Times Translated by John Steffen With a Foreword by John L. Allen Jr.
Sir Manx Silverwing, Knight of the Silver Claw Order will always tell you that he simply does what anyone else would in his position. But would they?
Manx has served selflessly for nearly his entire two centuries of life. Protecting others without thought to his personal safety, needs, or wants. He took in three orphan children after the Battle of the Wall at Chicago in 2052.
He's known as a fearsome warrior, skilled tactician, and charismatic leader. But if anyone were to ask him what title he is most proud of. The answer would come without hesitation.
Father and Grandfather.
Location: Another Earth Chicago Chronicles RP sim
When you multiply any number by 9, then add the resulting digits and reduce them to a single digit, it always becomes a 9. For example, 6 x 9 = 54, reduce 54 to a single digit by adding them together: 5 + 4 = 9. Similarly, 8 x 9 = 72, and 7 + 2 = 9. Or 23 x 9 = 207, 2 + 0 + 7 = 9, and so forth.
Number 9 is also the number of Universal love, eternity, faith, Universal Spiritual Laws, the concept of karma, spiritual enlightenment, spiritual awakening, service to humanity, humanitarianism and the humanitarian, lightworking and lightworkers, leading by positive example, philanthropy and the philanthropist, charity, self-sacrifice, selflessness, destiny, life purpose and soul mission, generosity, a a higher perspective, romance, inner-strength, public relations, responsibility, intuition, strength of character. It's also the favorite number of stickmen around the world.
And that's all I got to say about the number 9.
San Francisco CA
The historic village of Eyam dates back to Saxon times and was formerly a centre for lead mining. It is famous for the events during the Great Plague of 1666 when the villagers halted the spread of the disease by breaking off all contact with the outside world. A large proportion of the population died as a result and today there are many reminders of this great act of courage and selflessness.
Eyam Parish Church.
Sorry I know it's not a good photo, but I like it, and if I climbed was for sharing with you selflessly. !
This gigantic panorama comes from the U-shaped Greek island of Milos, where I and my family spent 6 wonderful days exploring the island’s beaches, cuisine, and architecture. In return, in the early evenings, I would selflessly allow the island’s many biting and bloodsucking bugs to feast on my newly gyro- and feta-flavored self.
The main subject here is the old town’s church, with its amazing views of the Aegean Sea (which are, unfortunately, not really pictured here, although I got plenty of other photos of the Aegean). For such a sparsely populated place (fewer than 5,000 inhabitants), the island featured over a dozen small (and some large) whitewashed churches perched in amazing panoramic locations. It made me wonder if parishioners had a hard time concentrating during the sermons. Or if they were built as snares to catch parishioners on their way to the beach.
Aside from the main subject, I have two favorite parts to this photo. The first is the couple on the left side of the church, striking what I believe is a candid but near-perfect Instagram-like pose while watching the sunset. The other is the amazing pebble mosaics composed built in between the tiles—there were a number of these mosaics sprinkled throughout the island, and discovering one after turning down some tiny alley was always a treat.
As i have been in the presence of great wealth
and not been impressed.
As i have walked amongst the beautiful
and only felt the cold.
As i have bared witness to the famous
and left to ponder where is greatness.
Searching for the selfless...
the nameless...
the penniless...
Greater riches are to be found in the souls of those
who give of themselves when seeing the beauty in others.
May you find peace my friend,
for to find only one with beauty
is to seemingly wade endlessly
in the sea of despair.
*written by gwennielynn*
To all the brave men and women who served during World War I and all the wars since and to whom I am eternally indebted for my freedom, I say a heartfelt thank you.
I salute them for their valour, bravery and selflessness.
* * * *
Je dis un grand merci à tous les braves hommes et femmes qui ont servi durant la Première Guerre mondiale et toutes les guerres qui ont eu lieu depuis. Je vous dois la liberté dont je jouis aujourd'hui et pour cela, je vous suis éternellement reconnaissante.
Je salue leur courage, bravoure et abnégation.
P.S. If you think you have seen this before, you are not going crazy. It is a repost from last year. Hope you don't mind, but I had nothing more fitting to post.
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The Edit of this Photo Demands Your View In BLACK with Large size for better out put, Plz Press L for Black
Description
This Twilight I Observe On My Way to Village SAILAN On 19th Jan 2011 , While we had a Stop over for collection of Gas for car at AminBAZAR , SAVAR, Dhaka.
This was a Different sunset And Much well ahead of the time ,and at far ground still the brick field chimney exploring its Pollution to the nature, and destroying the beauty of nature but selfless nature still not being selfish to the Universe and still paying its regards and dutifulness at its own time,
I feel , we have a Lot to learn form nature and the selfless service to the universe as well.
Let we all save the NATURE, and stop POLLUTION NOW,
___________
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From my set entitled "Uncle Bill Watson"
www.flickr.com/photos/21861018@N00/sets/72157600269993237/
In my photostream
www.flickr.com/photos/21861018@N00/
Watson reunion photo in which Cam Devine appears
www.flickr.com/photos/21861018@N00/536290657/in/set-72157...
Campbell (Cam) Devine was my Uncle Bill Watson’s best friend during early school years in Grand Valley, Ontario. Cam was killed on August 12, 1944, when the Flying Boat he was piloting crashed in Ireland. I am including a notice of his death from the Grand Valley Star and Vidette, and a detailed account of the crash as remembered by Chuck Singer, one of Cam’s flight crew.
From The Grand Valley Star and Vidette, August, 1944
Another Grand Valley Boy Passes Overseas
News of the death of another Grand Valley boy overseas was received in town the latter part of last week. He was Flight Lieut Campbell Devine, elder son of Dr. and Mrs. E. W. Devine of Orillia formerly of Grand Valley. Campbell was born in Grand Valley and moved with his parents to Orillia some years ago. His death occurred in Ireland on Aug.12 and interment took place in Ireland. He was a chum and pal of the late P.O. Bill Watson of Grand Valley. Brief references to his death were made in the pulpits of Knox Presbyterian Church on Sunday morning and at the memorial service for the late P.O. Watson in Trinity United Church on Sunday afternoon. Besides his parents and one brother, Donald, the deceased leaves a widow and one child, all of Orillia. To the bereaved parents, brother, widow and child the sympathy of this community is extended
Full particulars regarding his death had not been received at the time of going to press.
Taken from THE BATTLE OF THE ATLANTIC Highlights from 422 R.C.A.F. Squadron, 1942 - 1945
www.airforcemuseum.ca/422ww2.htm
August 12, 1944 saw the crash of Sunderland T of 422, in Donegal County, Ireland, just north of Belleek, Northern Ireland, shortly after take-off for an Atlantic patrol. The heavily loaded aircraft had suffered an engine fire and loss of propeller and a crash landing was attempted on a relatively flat area. The skipper, F/L Cam Devine and two crew members died in the crash. The remainder of the crew received serious injuries and were initially treated in the Irish hospital in Ballyshannon, Donegal County, and later moved to the military hospital in Necarne Castle near Irvinestown, Northern Ireland or to hospitals in England.
Taken from the The Impartial Reporter: For Fermanagh, Tyrone and Border Counties of the Republic of Ireland:
Issue: 15-08-2002
www.impartialreporter.com/archive/2002-08-15/news/story41...
A tear ran down the cheek of Chuck Singer as he stood on the windswept bogland of Cashelard, receiving long overdue recognition for an act of great courage undertaken 58 years ago to the day.
It was a marvellous moment, a fitting closure to a remarkable tale, owing much not only to Chuck, whose selfless actions as a 19 year old First Gunner on a stricken Sunderland flying boat in 1944 saved the life of a comrade, but also to his son Bob (who correctly pointed out that reports of his father's death in the Squadron records were greatly exaggerated), and local historians Joe O'Loughlin and Breege McCusker.
A large crowd gathered on Monday at the exact hour at the site where Sunderland NJ175 crashed shortly after taking off from its base at Castle Archdale. They gathered to pay tribute to Sergeant Chuck Singer, but also to the three airmen who did not survive the crash, and whose names are recorded on a memorial stone erected at the site two years ago. With a beautiful ceremony choreographed brilliantly by Joe and Breege, interspersed with presentations to Chuck, the crowd listened to a recounting of the Canadian's remarkable story.
422 Squadron Royal Canadian Air Force arrived in Fermanagh in the spring of 1944, youthful, joyful crews of men who had thus far generally enjoyed their war experiences, stationed with Coastal Command in Scotland, protecting Merchant Navy convoys from the threat of German U Boats.
They were to do the same job from their base on Lough Erne, patrolling out into the Atlantic and also into the Bay Of Biscay and the English Channel. Their role was an important one- the U Boats were the only cog of the German war machine which really frightened Churchill, and any break in the Allies supply line would have had a debilitating effect on the war effort.
But to the airmen based in quiet County Fermanagh, on the usually serene Lower Lough Erne, the war must often have seemed a world away. Chuck remembers that conditions on the base were "beautiful, just fine", and that even when they were airborne, patrolling at an average altitude of 400 feet, there was never any real feeling of unease or fear.
"We felt like nothing was ever going to happen to us out there. To fly was just a treat to get up and if they ever postponed a flight on us we got sick, you know, just sick. I don't know any aircrew that ever worried- it was all jovial, funny guys that had a good time, I don't know anybody that ever worried about dying. Flying out to sea in those things was so peaceful. You almost forgot that you had a job to do it was so beautiful and peaceful."
During his short spell in Fermanagh, Chuck fortunately never had to fire his guns in anger from his position in the turret at the top of the giant seaplane, but remembers one occasion when his crew felt they were about to have their first serious engagement with the enemy.
"We thought we had a pair of them one time," he said. "It looked like a mother ship refuelling a smaller sub, so we dived at that thing, we had all the depth charges out on the wings, we were ready for everything... and they were two of the most beautiful Blue Whales you ever saw in your life."
Chuck left his turret and aimed a camera instead of his machine gun. He took a couple of photographs and left them in to get developed back at the base, but due to his unfortunate exit from Castle Archdale he was never able to pick them up again. "We went out feet first and I never did get them. I'd loved to have had those pictures," he said wistfully.
The biggest threat to their safety that Chuck encountered during the patrols actually came from the Merchant Navy which the Sunderlands and Catalinas were sent to protect. Engagements with enemy aircraft and U Boats were rare by 1944, but the Merchant convoys were jumpy, and fairly 'trigger happy' recalled Chuck.
"The worst part was flying alongside a convoy, because those merchant people- they were shooting at everything, and they didn't know us from the enemy. When we used to approach a convoy the skipper used to give them every view they could of the markings or else the Merchant Navy would shoot you down."
They would also shoot coloured flares by way of identifying themselves, but the colours were changed frequently, and sending up the wrong colour could prove fatal. Call signs were also used for identification and changed frequently, but there is one call sign which is indelibly printed on Chuck's memory. 'Eyeglass Eagle'. This was the last call sign of Sunderland NJ175, as it took off around 11:15 on Saturday morning, August 12, 1944. NJ175 was like any other Sunderland docked at the Flying Boat base, and was supposed to have been checked by the engineers before take off. Every one of the 12 man crew had checks to make after being rowed out to the boat on a dinghy.
"When it was our turn to fly they'd put us in a dinghy from the dock and run us to one of the boats, and we'd get on it and check everything out, and if something wasn't right we'd radio the dinghy and it would come back and get us and take us to another one. Often there'd be two or three before we'd get one that was operational."
Everything happened in such a hurry that it was fairly common to experience mechanical problems, said Chuck, and often the crews would be delayed at least an hour by repairs.
On the flight on August 12 was his regular crew, all of whom had got to know each other like brothers, having flown and socialised together in Fermanagh for months, as well as a few trainees, learning the ropes, and sitting, fatally as it turned out, near the cockpit behind the skipper, Flight Lieutenant Cam Devine.
They were heading for the English Channel, hoping to catch the German subs heading for Norway from their base at Brest on the French coast. The men- all members of the RCAF, were expecting to be away for between 10 and 12 hours, burning an enormous 2000 gallons of fuel. As it happened, they were only airborne for a fraction of that time- about 30 minutes- and had to dump as much of the fuel as possible over the surrounding area.
"The engine sounded uneasy all the time after we took off. It just didn't sound like it was hitting all cylinders, it sounded funny. But sometimes that clears up, but this time it didn't," said Chuck. The noises got worse as the plane reached the West Coast of Ireland and a problem in the outer starboard engine had developed into a fire. The crew sent out a mayday call and turned around to return to base. Orders came in from Castle Archdale to jettison the fuel and the depth charges on board, which would have exploded on impacting with the ground.
Local people in the fields around Belleek were used to seeing the huge Flying Boats sailing out to war over their heads along the secretly negotiated Donegal Corridor, but to see one with thick black smoke billowing out from its starboard engine was an unusual and alarming experience. Although Cashelard is a remote area, there were a number of people in the vicinity, taking advantage of the great weather to work in the fields or enjoy the first day of the Grouse shooting season. Their peace was about to be shattered.
On board the plane, dumping the 2000 gallons of fuel was proving too dangerous, as the high octane fuel was pouring out perilously close to the burning engine, risking an explosion which would blow the plane to smithereens. Flying Officer Alex Platsko, the Second Pilot, whose job it was to jettison the fuel and depth charges in preparation for a less than routine landing, now had to shut off the fuel dump valve again.
And there was another problem- the track for the depth charges was sticking, and the crew couldn't get them out of the plane. Eventually, after a desperate struggle, the crew worked the charges free, and they dropped harmlessly to the ground, to be blown up next day by the Irish Army and officials from Castle Archdale.
Platsko returned to the task of shutting off the fuel dump valve, but was shuddered out of his work by a loud bang as the burning engine suddenly froze up and the propeller twisted off its shaft and spun into the starboard float, causing the plane to bank suddenly, steeply to the right. Chuck remembers the sharp snap of the propeller breaking off, not long before impact.
Skipper Cam Devine, just 22 years of age, had a fight on his hands. With one engine on fire and out of action, and a half a tonne propeller embedded in the side of one of his floats, the plane was losing height at a frightening rate and in danger of hitting the ground sideways first. "We could've cartwheeled - if the wing had touched first we would all have been dead," said Chuck.
The crew members were adopting the crash position, something similar to what is advised on commercial airliners today, but without the fancy demonstration cards. Cam Devine was fighting for his life, and the lives of his comrades, fighting to get the heavy plane back on an even keel to give them a chance in the crash landing which was now inevitable. Somehow, against the odds, he achieved this, righting the plane just before impact on the Cashelard ground, succeeding in saving the lives of nine of his crew members, but losing his own life in the process.
Chuck remembers certain aspects of the impact, but he was concussed, and blood was streaming down his face. Three of the crew- Cam Devine, Pilot Officer R.T Wilkinson and Flight Sergeant Jack Forrest- died instantly. Alex Platsko, who hadn't time to buckle himself back into his seat after jettisoning the depth charges, was thrown through the windscreen, and survived, although he was seriously injured.
The plane hit the lip of a country track, coming down perpendicular to the road rather than along it, which caused the bottom half of the plane to be severed in the sudden halt. "When the bottom half of the plane was torn out I was up in the ceiling getting my arms broke and my face cut, and concussion, and I was looking down and I could see George Colbourne laying face-up on the bottom of the boat," recalled Chuck. "We went over the top of him, but it looked like we were still and he was sliding on a toboggan underneath us- that was the effect we got. That was the last thing I remembered until I gained consciousness again and tried to get out of that thing."
The next thing he remembers is the heather all around the crash site being on fire. The Sunderland had broken in two places- at the tail, and between the under section and the rest of the plane. The tail breaking off was a blessing in disguise, affording an escape hatch for Chuck and some of the other crew members.
Dazed, bleeding, and with his left arm hanging limply by his side, Chuck somehow got out of the mangled remains of the plane. As aviation fuel leaked out of the plane the fire spread, and bullets and ammunition were exploding in the heat. Chuck staggered clear of the heat, but heard George Colbourne crying for help. George was trapped under the wreckage of the tail, powerless, with two broken legs. Chuck turned back into the flames.
"I can remember going back when I heard him crying and screaming. I heard him before this, and I thought 'God, I'm not going to get him', and then he screamed one more time and I thought: 'I've got to get him', so I went back after him. I pulled my arm out hauling him out- I tore a ligament in my shoulder. I couldn't use my left arm- it was broken. So by the time I got him maybe 50 to 100 feet away, I don't know how far it was- until I couldn't feel the heat anymore- I passed out, and so did he."
The fire totally engulfed the plane, but somehow all of the survivors had got clear of the wreckage. Joe O'Loughlin reached the plane on his bicycle about half an hour after the crash, along with other locals and helpers, including the supposedly neutral Irish Army from Finner Camp, rescue services from Castle Archdale, and medical staff from Ballyshannon's Shiel Hospital. All of the injured, with wounds ranging from a broken back to severe burns, were taken to the hospital, where they remained for 48 hours before being transferred to St Angelo Airport and over to hospital in England.
At this point, according to the records of 422 Squadron, Sergeant Charles (Chuck) Singer died. This was quite an alarming discovery for Bob Singer in January this year, who thought that his father had recovered from his injuries, received a medical discharge and flown back to Canada, where he later married, had five children and moved to Florida, keeping in contact with George Colbourne, who rang him every year on August 12 to thank him for saving his life on a lonely Irish bog, a lifetime ago. Bob had decided to do a little research into his father's Airforce career, and had stumbled upon the Squadron records. He knew very little of the crash, and nothing of his modest father's heroic rescue of Colbourne. He sent a reply to the website, stating that as his father had been helping him in the yard that morning, and notwithstanding a Lazurus-like reincarnation, he had not died in England on August 14, 1944, as the Squadron notes reported. Chuck had missed out on over 50 years of squadron reunions thanks to an erroneous report in the records. He had no idea that there was such interest in those based at Castle Archdale: "I didn't have a clue- I thought that we were all forgotten. Joe here, he got after me right away- I got a letter within a week from him."
He also got in touch with the courageous Alex Platsko, now Dr Alex Platsko, who lives in the prestigious Pebble Beach resort in California. The two old comrades talked together for the first time in 58 years a few months ago, while Chuck ordered his Squadron badge, an honour he had neglected for over half a century.
This has been a year of amazing discovery for both Chuck and Bob, who accompanied his father on his emotional return to Fermanagh and to Cashelard. Under the gentle guidance of Joe, they have revisited so many areas of huge significance for Chuck- the well kept war graves in Irvinestown where his three comrades are buried; Castle Archdale with Breege McCusker; the Shiel Hospital in Ballyshannon where Chuck asked the staff if he owed them anything and joked that he had "an outstanding bill from '44"; and finally, most emotionally of all, the site at Cashelard where Sunderland NJ175 crashed 58 years ago to the day.
Full of praise for the people of Fermanagh- "a wonderful race", Chuck returns this week to Florida, laden with gifts such as a mounted piece of the wreckage of his plane, a framed citation commemorating his bravery, a copy of the memorial plaque erected to the memory of his fallen comrades, and a replica model of the planes in which he soared above the seas, risking his tomorrow for our today.
Having been reaquainted with his squadron and returned to the site of his wartime experiences he admits to being overwhelmed with his time in Fermanagh. As far as Castle Archdale, Cashelard and more particularly, Flying Boats go, he has just one disappointment, and he is not the only one: "It's a shame there isn't one for you guys to look at, you know? They're all on the bottom of the lake. Isn't that crazy?"
Taken from "Commonwealth Plots in Irvinestown County Fermanagh"
www.ww2talk.com/forum/war-grave-photographs/15812-commonw...
i265.photobucket.com/albums/ii221/lisset158/DSCF3115.jpg
The injuries to the crew Killed F/lt E.C. Devine ( Pilot ) aged 22.
( Buried Irvinestown Church of Ireland ).
P/O. J R Forrest W.Op / AG.
( Buried Irvinestown Roman catholic Churchyard).
F/O. R T Wilkinson Pilot aged 22.
(Buried Irvinestown Church of Ireland).
Surviving crew members. Sgt Allen ( Navigator).
Severe head injuries , burns to hands and legs.
Sgt Jeal. ( Flt/Engineer).
Fracture to spine , extensive burns to his hands and face.
Sgt Colbourne (A/G).
Head injury , fractured right leg.
Sgt Platsko. ( 2nd Pilot).
Head injury.
Sgt Oderskirk.(W.Op/ AG).
hand and facial injuries.
Sgt.Clarke (FME/AG).
Compressed fracture of the spine.
Sgt Singer ( A/G).
Fractured left arm.
P/O A. Locke.
(W.Op/AG).
Head injury.
Post Processing: light balance, equalization, sharpening
The firehouse was lighted but empty. The apparatus was dispatched to a structure fire several blocks away. Most residents were resting peacefully in their homes, unaware that the selfless volunteers of Garner Fire Company were called away from their families when the alarm sounded.
Chapter 31 in the book of Proverbs in the Bible describes a woman who is selfless, and puts her family first, and would do anything for them....
Here today in the UK, we celebrate Mother's Day, and I know without a doubt, my Mum could be the one in the book! She has protected, nurtured and sheltered us from many things and has become my best friend, a woman who would do anything for me and has already done... she has become my best friend and I love her so much.... She is indeed PRICELESS.
So for you today Mum, Happy Mother's Day :)
I know however today, there are those of you who will be missing your Mum terribly and all I can do is send up a special prayer for each of you.
God bless you all, and I wish you a peaceful and blessed and happy Sunday :)
Thank you again for all your support and kind comments on my photostream :)
I never type anything on any of the apps I use for SL because I'm private and try to stay out the way.... I also just hate anything that remotely evokes emotion but this one really been fuckin with me.
Nip was def one of the people I would listen to consistently...he was one of my heroes. He beat all the odds and did it his way and I always admired that. I mean who sells a tape for 100$ and 1000$?? LOL. Not only did he do things his own way he was willing to give u the spill on it all to help the people around him get ahead too. He was such an inspiration, so wise and so selfless.
If you know me you know I'm not good when it comes to expressing my emotions and I would joke about Nip being the male version of me because of the way he carried himself, his morals, and how in tune he was. I would laugh when he would try to be on some romantic shit it would still be hood asF but real asF. I couldn't help but laugh because it reminded me so much of me and how goofy I look when I actually care about somebody on some romantic shit LOL. Another thing we had in common was the way we could make a way out of no way and we didn't believe in saying I can't or I don't know how. When you come up from nothing those word don't exist..PERIOD. I just saw so much of myself in this man and it gave me so much hope.
I could write a book about this man and his greatness but I'll stop here because this kinda long already smh. lol.
Although I never met him I have sooo much respect and love for him. It feels like I lost my big brother. May he rest in peace and power. The marathon continues. ♥
A Legend:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=nhcDl3S5sXQ
www.youtube.com/watch?v=3RlE03xOyV4
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1j2qkq0TwOE
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9V26lyh6gs
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mXm0UpIqTCg
Mom never seemed to get older than 36, despite her eventual age. So she was born June 14 and left on 11th March 2012, I wanted to commemorate her this month, so here's the birthday present I wrote for her in 2006.
To My Dearest Mum
The more we go through life with LittleE,
the more we learn about ourselves.
The more we learn about ourselves,
especially as parents and people.
The more we appreciate all those things,
That were so selflessly done for us.
The bumps, the scrapes, the prayers, the fixing, the nursing,
the fun and the all; which includes the fetching and carrying,
the cooking, the cleaning, the patience, the hugs, the kisses
and above all the caring.
We can only ever repay you for doing all of those things,
by doing those things ourselves for LittleE.
We watch her learning, exploring, growing,
full of joy with each and every thing she does.
And as we watch we know,
that you too have seen this all in us.
So there is not a day that goes by that we do not see in LittleE,
a little bit of you, a little bit of me and a lot of someone new.
Not a day goes by when through her we are not reminded of
you,
in her you will always be with us.
© G P F
tiny can be precious 🌸
however, man finds himself in his own loop
where personal biases are implemented
rust creeps in the space of trust
whereas child reaches for circle of innocence
in small and tiny ways
entering the ego loop
big grown-up world pulls the little child out
to be thrown outside, from their tiny inside
this pull out in tiny artificial ways
from which the ego grows
forgetting that tiny can be ever precious
le ptit penseur
give life a little grace
life on this little planet
soul inside, tiny pocket of light makes life grow
it is what it is what moves me
with innocence inside soul, glow = grow
it is what it is what moves me truly
Tenderness permeating in such tiny moments
one after another in tiny ways of selfless love
makes innocence circle glow and we truly grow
when not moved by envy and temptations
this 'tiny inside' can be ever pure and priceless
for this tiny to tiny moments unfading to ever-glow
'bud vs blossom' finds home in 'Eterna Glow'
(notes for my Dearest Friend ❤️ in response to a beautiful question)
This is Delta (5 weeks old) a foster puppy who miraculously was the only surviver from a litter of eight in a tale far too harrowing for me to tell.
I hope Delta pulls through, I hope this little girl makes it.
If she does it will be due yet again to those unsung heroes everywhere who put themselves out to rescue horses, dogs, cats and all living creatures with whom we share this blue planet.
They and these are my heroes:
“Any resistor of social injustice is a hero or heroine; any politician courageous enough to eschew cycles of violence for the sake of peace; every selfless teacher who goes the extra mile, every- kicked- in- the- teeth –but- undaunted social worker, every fair minded cop, all those unknown soldiers of civilised society, without whom our lives, and our children’s lives would be shorter, shittier, superstition-intoxicated and medieval.
We owe it to them to emulate them.”
Some crumbs of nuts fell off our table outside a cafe. It was fun to watch this sparrow placing all of the crumbs in its infant's mouth. Such selfless dedication when the young one was almost as big as its mother. Meanwhile the chocolate caramel slice with almonds on top went well with the coffee :)
A "puff" stool turned cat scratcher keeps unwanted claws away from the armchair.
"That's a job well done", she may have thought as she studied carefully her masterpiece, the result of countless hours and days and months of selfless dedication.
effects of the wildfires in Jasper and the rest of the National park....
Thank you to all first responders who fought to protect Jasper. They worked tirelessly day and night, to protect this community, which to many, is their home. Their selflessness and bravery are truly commendable – we will always remember the extraordinary dedication they displayed during the challenging early days of this wildfire response.
The Jasper fires refer to the devastating Jasper wildfires of July 2024, which destroyed approximately 30% of the townsite, forced the evacuation of 25,000 people for nearly a month, (and continuing) and significantly impacted properties and infrastructure, though critical facilities were saved. Fueled by lightning and extreme drought conditions, the monstrous fire complex generated its own weather and rapidly consumed the area.
Impact:
Approximately 358 buildings, including homes and two churches, were destroyed.
About 25,000 residents and visitors were evacuated.
Critical infrastructure like the hospital and schools remained intact. The wildfire complex created its own weather system with a wall of flame up to 100 meters high.
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