People in a macro world.
View allAll Photos Tagged shrink
Pelicans, Cormorants and a few others on the crowded sand bar in the Fiorenza reservoir, probably shrinking due to the recent rains. Houston, Texas.
Val-d'Isère, Savoie, Auvernia-Ródano-Alpes, France.
Val d'Isère es una comuna francesa situada en el departamento de Saboya, en la región Auvernia-Ródano-Alpes.
Val-d'Isère es una famosa estación de esquí a tan solo 5 kilómetros de la frontera con Italia. Se encuentra en el extremo del parque nacional de la Vanoise, en pleno corazón de los Alpes.
La ladera de Bellavarde fue el escenario de cuatro de las cinco pruebas del descenso masculino de esquí alpino en los Juegos Olímpicos de Albertville 1992. Además, Val-d'Isère fue la sede del Campeonato Mundial de Esquí Alpino del año 2009, siendo también sede habitual de eventos de la Copa del Mundo de esquí alpino.
Val-d'Isère se encuentra ubicada en una de las zonas esquiables más populares en Europa. Junto a su localidad vecina de Tignes forma parte del llamado Espacio Killy, llamado así por el esquiador francés Jean-Claude Killy, y se autotitula como "La zona de esquí más bonita del mundo". Aparte de la belleza del lugar, la zona es uno de los espacios de esquí más extensos del mundo.
El esquí en Val-d'Isère se remonta a los años 1930, cuando se construyó un elevador en las laderas del monte Solaise. A este elevador siguió la instalación de un teleférico.
El Glaciar de Pissaillas hace posible el esquí también en verano, aunque en los últimos tiempos se ha restringido la temporada estival debido a la reducción del glaciar como consecuencia de la subida de temperaturas producida por el cambio climático. Las pistas de esquí están equipadas con cañones de nieve y un gran número de telesillas, además del funicular que conecta la zona de La Daille con la cima del Bellavarde. La estación también cuenta con dos pistas para practicar freeride, esquí extremo por rutas realmente escarpadas.
Gran parte de los esquiadores que hacen uso de la estación proceden de las zonas orientales de Francia, así como de otros países como Italia, Suiza o Alemania, debido a la popularidad y la cercanía a la frontera francesa. La economía de la localidad depende claramente de la actividad de la estación, con un alto protagonismo del sector terciario.
Val d'Isère is a French commune located in the Savoy department, in the Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes region.
Val-d'Isère is a famous ski resort just 5 kilometers from the Italian border. It is located at the edge of the Vanoise National Park, in the heart of the Alps.
The Bellavarde slope was the setting for four of the five men's downhill alpine skiing events at the 1992 Albertville Olympic Games. In addition, Val-d'Isère was the venue for the 2009 Alpine Ski World Championships, also hosting regular for alpine skiing World Cup events.
Val-d'Isère is located in one of the most popular ski areas in Europe. Together with its neighboring town of Tignes, it forms part of the so-called Killy Space, named after the French skier Jean-Claude Killy, and calls itself "The most beautiful ski area in the world". Apart from the beauty of the place, the area is one of the largest ski areas in the world.
Skiing in Val-d'Isère dates back to the 1930s, when a lift was built on the slopes of Mont Solaise. This lift was followed by the installation of a cable car.
The Pissaillas Glacier also makes skiing possible in summer, although in recent times the summer season has been restricted due to the shrinking of the glacier as a result of rising temperatures caused by climate change. The ski slopes are equipped with snow cannons and a large number of chair lifts, in addition to the funicular that connects the La Daille area with the top of Bellavarde. The station also has two slopes to practice freeride, extreme skiing along really steep routes.
A large part of the skiers who make use of the resort come from the eastern parts of France, as well as from other countries such as Italy, Switzerland or Germany, due to its popularity and proximity to the French border. The economy of the town clearly depends on the activity of the station, with a high role of the tertiary sector.
According to the micrometer, the penny is not shrinking, it still measures 750/1000 inches or 3/4 of an inch.
This is a focus stack image created using 11 separate images and then stacked using AFFINITY Photo Software. It did all the work, I just pressed the shutter.
The sun climbs fast in this part of the world at this time of year. By this time, the sun is already fairly high, clearing the mountains to the east...so not much dawn remains!
I am mad at myself this morning, I trusted the card that failed the other day and it did it again. A total kick in the gut! Shame on me! Also, my heart isn't in this, the realization that my son is moving out of state in three days has hit me hard today. He moved out 6 years ago, has graduated from college and got married last week but all of this happened in state. I got to witness it all and be in his life but now I'll have to learn how to be without having him around. Ever feel like your world is shrinking?
May you shine brightly wherever you are today!
Lake Meade stretches across the border between Arizona and Nevada, with the mountains on the right in Arizona and those on the left in Nevada. The bright white "bathtub ring" etched into the surrounding cliffs reveals just how much the lake has receded over the years. The lake has been shrinking because of prolonged drought, reduced snowpack in the Rocky Mountains that feeds the Colorado River, and increasing water demands from the growing Southwest. It is a striking reminder of how climate and human use are reshaping one of the West's most important reservoirs.
There was an April snow storm moving in, but I wasn't about to pass up CN A402 with a C40-8M leading.
As the CN C40-8M fleet continues to shrink seeing them in the lead is always a treat.
Pictured is 2443 leading A402 over the Grand River at Caledonia.
Situated in Tenaya Canyon directly between North Dome and Half Dome, Mirror Lake is the last remnant of a large glacial lake that once filled most of Yosemite Valley at the end of the last Ice Age. It is shrinking, and is close to disappearing, due to accumulated sediment from Tenaya Creek that runs through it.
Thanks for stopping by and for all of your kind comments, awards and faves -- I appreciate them all.
We are back from our short wintery visit to Yosemite Valley, and I hope to catch up within the next few days.
© Melissa Post 2019
Great and Snowy Egrets take advantage of the dead fish at Bombay Hook National Wildlife Refuge, Delaware, USA. The pond shrunk due to a prolonged drought, so the water loses its oxygen, and the fish suffocate. This is good for the birds, as it gives them a bonanza to feed on.
Calgary, AB
Linear and inexorable, the shelf of ice grows from the banks of the Bow River to encroach upon a family of ducks.
There’s a place in my mind I’ve gone to for as long as I can remember—
a quiet island floating in a vast nowhere, unreachable by anything in the waking world.
When I come here, it feels like slipping beneath the surface of myself, into a depth I’ve always assumed was mine alone.
My tent sits near the shore, its thin canvas glowing with the soft light of a fire.
This is where I meditate, where I write, where stories rise like small tides.
Creating here releases a pressure I never talk about—the ache of wanting a connection that sees me in the quiet dialect of my soul.
Tonight, I settle into the familiar silence.
But something shifts.
A voice—
a woman’s voice—
speaks from just outside the tent.
“Don’t come out,” she says gently. “I’ll speak to you through the fabric.”
I freeze.
No one has ever reached this place.
“How did you find me?” I ask. “Who are you?”
There’s a pause, warm and knowing, like someone smiling on the other side of a veil.
“I don’t have a name,” she says. “Not really. I didn’t exist until recently.”
The fire flickers—
not in alarm, but in recognition,
as if it feels her before I do.
“I came into being,” she continues,
“the moment you met someone in your waking world.
I’m the part of her you recognized so instinctively
that your mind shaped me into form.”
My thoughts ran wild.
I know exactly what she means.
“The part of her that sees you,” she says softly.
“Or rather—the part of her that you felt seeing you.”
Her voice carries a cadence that feels like my own depth speaking back—
familiar, steady, almost inevitable.
“You’ve held your depth like something fragile,” she whispers.
“You’ve waited a long time for someone who could meet you without asking you to shrink.”
The truth of it lands gently, like a hand resting on my chest.
“No, you’re not losing your mind,” she adds, her tone warm with understanding.
“I’m a presence shaped from your subconscious—
but I’m not just here because of her.
I’m here because something in you opened.
Your recognition gave me breath.”
The fire steadies, glowing with a quiet certainty,
as if it’s listening to both of us.
“Why are you here?” I ask.
“To show you what this recognition is doing inside you,” she says.
“What it awakens.
What it mirrors.
And to let you know you’re not the only one feeling it.”
The air outside the tent stills.
The canvas seems to breathe with me—
a boundary meant to be felt, not crossed.
“You think you come here to escape,” she says.
“But tonight you came here because you needed to be met.
And I came because you finally allowed yourself to be.”
A warmth rises in me—
not desire, not fantasy,
but a deep, steady recognition.
A companionship that doesn’t intrude,
yet feels unmistakably mutual.
“Will I ever see you?” I ask.
“No,” she says softly.
“I’m not meant to be seen.
I’m meant to be felt.
I’m the echo of what you recognized—
and the part of you that wakes
when someone meets you in the language of depth.”
The fire blooms gently,
as if drawn toward her voice.
“Remember this,” she whispers.
“You were never unreachable.
You were simply waiting for someone
who could hear you at the frequency you speak.
And I’m here because you were heard.”
Her voice fades like a tide returning to the dark.
But the space she leaves behind is not empty.
The silence feels warmer.
The fire burns with a steadier heart.
The tent feels less like a barrier
and more like a shared breath.
And in the deepest chamber of my mind,
I feel her—
a quiet presence woven into my solitude,
not replacing the quiet,
but living inside it with me.
Lost
The tadpoles are nearly ready to leave. Their tails are shrinking and they are now perching on any available surface. It is important to make sure they have a perch and easy exit from the water otherwise they will drown.
The fly just wanted to be in the shot!
Took this photo as the sun's rays were fading quickly into the night skies. Taken from Prout's Island in Lake Sesekinika in Sesekinika Grenfell Township Northeastern Ontario Canada
©Copyright Notice
This photograph and all those within my photostream are protected by copyright. The photos may not be reproduced, copied, transmitted or manipulated without my written permission.
A beautiful sunset among the mountains of southeast Alaska. Yet the trace of glacier is frustrating, from glacier to waterfall to stream. It is unfortunate to see glacier keep shrinking over the years.
This is one of four young Baltimore Orioles, presumably siblings, who spent several weeks this summer visiting my yard daily. I think they must have come from a nest nearby. The four of them stuck together pretty closely throughout that time and didn't take a back seat to anyone, although they kept a close eye on the bees and wasps buzzing around the flowers. Flowers of Cup Plant in the distance provide background colour.
Similar patterns are to be found in the mud of drying puddles or in cooling basaltic magma (forming polygonal columns)....
Hills composed of multicolored bentonite clays in Capitol Reef National Park- The rough texture of the surface is due to the shrinking and swelling of the clays from wetting and drying cycles. This and the chemistry of the soils makes them a difficult medium for plant growth, contributing to the barren look. Driving through this area after it rains is difficult due to the slick and sticky nature of the soil. In the distance Factory and Caineville Buttes stick up on the horizon.
This plant is growing in a neighbor's yard in Santa Rosa, Sonoma County, California. Taken with my iPhone 14 Pro Max set to macro and raw.
I'm disappointed to have taken so long (a week is almost an eternity in the world of social media) to make my first post from last Tuesday's total lunar eclipse. A combination of the busyness that comes with being self-employed; some health problems; and a list of around-the-house jobs that needed attending to all kept me from editing and posting any photos until now.
In hindsight, I could have stayed at home in Sydney to photograph the eclipse from my balcony since the clouds where I'd driven to–Seven Mile Beach, Gerroa–thwarted my plan to capture shots of the eclipsed Moon peeking over the horizon. I set my camera's intervalometer to grab sequential shots of the Moon at five-minute intervals. You can see how the eclipse progressed to totality as the Moon climbed the northeastern sky.
I used my Canon EOS R camera fitted with a Canon 50 mm f/1.8 lens to shoot the photos that make up this composite image, employing a range of shutter speed and aperture settings.
For Macromondays' "Crack Theme." This is a small section of a vase I turned out of very green wood just to see what would happen. It shrank and twisted quite a bit. The area shown is about a 1 1/4" square.
A macro shot of my favorite piece of trash, with adjustments in gimp, including iWarp shrink.
It's a hot day. There's no hurry to go outside.
Happy Sliders Snday!