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One may be excused for borrowing cliches from the realm of popular utterances. Then, that is how it does feel when you see sights such as this in real life.
A perma frosted river slam bang in the midst of tropical coconut trees in Bangalore.
This is Bellandur in Bangalore, a place notorious for foul smell, skin rashes and breathing troubles and a prime spot of ecological disaster.
Bellandur Lake is the largest water body in the plateau that is Bangalore. The terrain made it a huge reservoir which cheked the flow of water from the Koramangla and Challaghatta valleys and then slowly discharged it into the Pennar river that flows into Andhra Pradesh and Tamilnadu.
Till the 1980s it was a ecologically sound lake with fishing, irrigation of crops and potable water being drawn from it. The city population exploded in the late 1980s when it became the hub of IT business. Houses and offices sprung up everywhere at a frenetic pace. The income and cash flow generation was enormous. Money flowed everywhere. Business flourished, more people came in. In a few years time, the lake lost its potability, its fishing and its pristine beauty. The clear water became a turbid black pool with hyacinth growing wild.
The storm water drains which used to bring in the excess rain waters into the lake became channels of sewage that the residential and commercial buildings discharged unfiltered into the waterways. The lake just died a quick death. The overpowering stench of hydrogen sulphide and allied sulphur & phosphorus compounds infused the atmosphere all around it. A stench that we in India are familiar with where letting pollutants freely into the eco-space is not regarded as a danger.
Today the lake is about 700-800 acres big and is overgrown with hyacinth and weeds and it has two outflow channels that takes its polluted waters downstream. The public works departments have made two spillways which are narrow and it is here that on rainy days the lake water generates lather and foam that rises up many feet high and it piles up. The rustling wind over the lake ever so often raises large suds in the air and they keep on floating up like soap bubbles in a child’s play toy. At times the foam covers the bridge over the spillway and people have perforce to pass through it.
It is from one of these places that this photograph has been shot on a post rainy day in July 2016.
In the year 2016, we still have this problem and looks like will continue to have it in the near future as well. It is to do with how things are done in India. The Sewage treatment plants filter and throw the water into these water bodies. Even if you consider this as a clean and not a reprehensible act, then you must know that almost 50 percent of these plants do not even work and untreated sewage goes straight in. Secondly the number of STPs are not enough. The government of Karnataka expresses it inability by quoting lack of finances.
The situation is the same as governments in India have always expressed. Take urban transportation. UN, World Bank and a whole host of other nations and institutions had always been willing to fund a metro system in Delhi etc but the government would not take the money as such projects did not have kickbacks and opportunities for contractors to generate bogus bills as a tight fiscal discipline was always a pre requisite for such grants. So it took decades for the Indian government to agree to have the metro system.
That is how the cookie crumbles in India and I guess people in Bangalore as well as the ones living alongside the holy Yamuna river must wait for some succour and common sense to prevail in the corridors of the government where one day they may agree to being funded under a tight fiscal control.
_DSC4749 nef
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Please take your time... and enjoy it large on black
Laos is blessed with some of Asia’s nicest rivers, and many of them are mellow. Children spent the day at school, and by the afternoon they were doing the chores required of them…building a fire for the kitchen, sweeping the leaves into a pile, or caring for the young siblings strapped to their back …young boys and girls from the age of seven or eight attentive to the baby’s every need. Amongst this was the laughter of children playing in the river. But sometimes they skip their days at school, going fishing and collecting snails from the river, or using long bamboo poles to knock crickets from the trees. They eat the crickets live or drop them into bottles and take them home for lunch or dinner.
Photo taken nearby the Tad Lo waterfall near the little town Kieng Than Lei - Laos. These ragged little urchins spend most of their days not at school, but fishing and collecting snails from the river. School is important for ethnic minority kids, they should attend and complete primary education in order to overcome rural/urban, ethnic in the area of literacy and education. But it isn't that easy. The reason to skip school are the family economic considerations, involvement in family maintenance and subsistence tasks, the lack of perceived benefits from education. While poverty and lack of access are issues. In addition to these, ethnic minority kids have to face further barriers to education, including the distance from school facilities, their extreme poverty, and additional cultural barriers and the lack of fluency in the national language, Lao. The ethnic kids speak their own language. About 32% of all Laotians are related to Ethnic groups. Totally 160 ethnic groups and speak 82 distinct living languages.
...an old lady washing her clothes in the river gave us a beautiful smile; the Laos people are so friendly. Kids have a great time running on the rampart, swimming in the Sexet river at the Tad Lo waterfall, taking boat rides along the river and playing. A bit futher south men washing their elephants in the river. Lao seems a bit like heaven, the laughter is often & sincere, the rivers are cool and clean and not a speck of modern civilization in sight. In my perspective it is some of the best Laos can offer.
A stick cracked to my left, sounding like a deafening yell in the serene silence of the forest.
I stopped, holding absolutely still, and was rewarded with the heart-warming sight of a doe and her calf making their way through the woods.
Smiling, I continued on my way after they passed, heading more or less in the vague direction of Durrough.
I had ditched the wagon several miles and two nights back, after coming to the realization that if someone was hunting me, it probably wasn’t the best idea to travel out in the open, driving a conspicuous wagon. Now, I was on foot, going through some of the more difficult, less traveled paths through the eastern-most portion of the Wandering Woods. It would take longer to reach my destination, but it would also draw less attention to myself, thus making it worth the longer journey.
Squaring my shoulders, I forged onwards.
————————————
The next morning,
I awoke to something sharp jabbing into my back from beneath my bedroll. Groaning, I rolled over, and extracted……a rock.
Muttering in disgust, I threw the rock aside, and groggily disentangled myself from my cloak, which had been serving as my blanket, climbing to my feet with an audible cracking of joints.
“Well,” I said to no-one in particular, “Time to start the day I guess.”
I had killed a small rabbit with my crossbow last night, and I cooked him up now, along with a few edible greens I found near my campsite.
After breakfast, I packed up my bedroll, checked to make sure I still had that sealed letter, gathered my things, and kicked out the fire.
Then, I headed off in the same direction as yesterday. I estimated I only had another day at most before I reached Durrough. Fortified by this, (as well as that rabbit), I set off for another day of hiking.
Little did I know today was not going to be like the days before it.
————————————
A few hours later, I stopped for a rest, and possibly lunch, if I could find some game large enough to make a meal out of.
Making sure my crossbow was loaded, I began to stealthily advance through the woods, keeping a sharp eye out for prey. I spotted a couple of squirrels, but neither one was large enough to warrant taking a shot at.
Watching the second one run off, I detected movement out of the corner of my eye. Moving slowly, so as not to scare whatever it was, I turned towards the spot I saw movement from.
Expecting to find a deer, or even better, a wild hog, I was shocked to discover it was a BEAR!
I froze. The bear was staring right at me, not moving either.
As the seconds dragged on in our stand-off, I realized this wasn’t just any bear, it was a grizzly bear!
And to make matters worse, it was a very hungry-looking grizzly bear.
Keeping my eyes fixed on the bear, I began to slowly back away, taking micro-steps so as not to startle it into action. After a few steps, the bear began to move forward, as I moved back.
That was definitely not what I wanted the bear to do, and I realized this was not going to end peacefully.
Just as I was coming to this conclusion, the bear charged.
Given less then a second to react, I dropped and rolled to the side, feeling a rush of air as the bear breezed by. Rolling to my feet, I saw the bear stop and start to turn around, for another go at me. Pre-empting this, I turned and ran, as fast as my legs would carry me, hearing the bear charging up behind me.
Now, I know that everyone says the stupidest thing you can do when facing a bear is run, but A; not everyone is me, and B; I wasn’t trying to outrun the bear, I just needed a few seconds to get my shot, pardon the pun.
As I ran, I checked hastily that my crossbow was still loaded, and, finding it was, judged that the bear was too caught up in chasing me to slow down or avoid this, whipped around, bringing the crossbow to my shoulder, sighted, and pulled the trigger.
The bolt flew seemingly in slow motion, as the bear charged at me, straight into the grizzly’s right eye, killing him instantly.
The bear’s momentum kept his body moving forward, even as it started to hit the ground, forcing me to quickly step to the side, to avoid getting pinned as the corpse slid to a stop where I had been standing moments before.
I staggered against a nearby tree, sliding to the ground with my back against the trunk, staring at the bear’s corpse, feeling the adrenaline from my near-death experience pumping through my veins, and my breath coming in ragged bursts.
It was then, sitting on forest floor, waiting for my body to clam down, that the sound of rushing water penetrated my senses. I got up, and, turning around, surveyed my surroundings, which I hadn’t even registered yet.
My jaw dropped.
Hardly believing my eyes, I stepped out of the tree line.
I was on the bank of a river, that forked around the spit of land I was standing on. Both ends of the river wound away through the trees.
Directly across from me was the source of this river;
A magnificent (although not very large) waterfall, pouring majestically down the side of sheer rock face. The sound of it filled the air, which was the sound I had noticed minutes ago.
The rock face the waterfall poured over continued beyond to the right, slowly curving outward.
A huge old oak tree grew near this face, on the opposite bank. Over on my side, a large pile of boulders sat jumbled to my right, a tree growing up from their midst.
The whole area was overflowing with bright colors and abundant flora and fauna.
Looking around, I felt at peace for the first time in several days.
Putting down my crossbow, I flopped in the grass with a grateful sigh, content just to lay there in the soft grass for awhile.
As I lay there, I tried to come up with a suitable name for this hidden gem of the forest. Nothing I tried sounded right, and it wasn’t until I sat up and took another look at the place that the perfect name popped into my head.
“Heaven’s Lagoon,” I said out loud, trying it out. It fit perfectly.
It was then, as I was sitting there, enjoying the feeling of having this beautiful place all to myself, plus the fact I had just named it, when I noticed something I had missed before. Or maybe it hadn’t been there before, because I never missed anything.
Almost directly across from me was a cave.
As I stared at it, trying to figure out why I hadn’t seen it the first time I looked over there, I began to feel a strange sensation. It felt like the cave was calling to me, inviting and drawing me in.
That should have been more than enough warning to not go in the cave, but I had never been able to resist something like this.
So, curiosity getting the better of me, I got up, picking up my crossbow on the way, and moved to the edge of the bank, looking for a way across.
Finding it, I went over to the boulder pile, climbed up on the largest one, and, balancing carefully, hopped to a rock in the middle of the river, then over to the far bank, right in front of the cave.
Having reached my goal, I stopped to examine the cave opening. It was a little over six feet high, irregularly shaped. Other than that, there was nothing to suggest it was anything other then a normal cave. Anything besides that the tugging feeling in my gut had gotten stronger.
Fashioning a makeshift torch from a tree branch and some spare cloth I kept in a pocket, I took a deep breath, and stepped inside.
Instantly I was hit with a prickling sensation, a magic ward being tripped.
Damn, I thought, and then the cave walls disappeared.
————————
I am standing in the middle of a glade, surrounded by ages-old oak trees. A gentle breeze blows through, swirling leaves around, and tousling my hair. The afternoon sun shines down through the leaves, casting a golden light over everything. It would be the perfect day, if it weren’t for what I knew was about to happen.
Across the glade from me, shock mixed with horror etched on his face, stands my best friend, Trevor Mortlen. He has a hunting spear in one hand, as do I. Mine has the blood of a deer on the tip.
“S-Skye,” the other says, “What-how?”
At first, I am not quite sure what he is trying to say, then it dawns on me: He saw what I did, how I drew the spear back to me from the deer, twelve feet away, clear across the glade.
“Trevor,” I say calmly, forcing myself to look him in the eyes, “There’s something I’ve never told you about myself. I think it’s time I rectified that.”
I see the the hurt and fear in his eyes.
“I’m sorry Skye, but it’s too late for that. You’re not who I thought you were.” The other says, and begins to back away.
Panic starts to take told of me. I know how this ends. I know because I have relived this moment in my mind so many times, always trying to find an ending different than the one I know is about to happen, never being successful.
“Trevor,” I hear myself say, “Please, you must listen to me. It’s not what you think. I can explain everything, if you just let me.”
My plea falls on deaf ears.
“I’m sorry Skye,” he says again. “I don’t trust you anymore. You’re not someone who should be free to cause harm.”
Each word is like a dagger to my heart. I can barely believe what I’m hearing. This couldn’t be my Trev, the very best friend I had in this world. The person who meant so much to me.
“Please, “ I begged, tears beginning to blur my vision, “Trev, don’t do this.”
He looked at me with sadness in his eyes.
“I don’t want to. But I have to. I don’t know you anymore Skye.” And he turned away, heading out of the glade, bound for the sheriff’s office in our village.
I was torn apart in that moment, as Trevor turned his back on me. I knew if he reached the sheriff, my life, my parent’s life, maybe even my cousin’s lives, would be ruined, if not over completely.
There was only one way to stop this.
Only one way to ensure the safety of myself and my family.
Screaming my fury at the unfairness and helplessness of my situation, I throw the spear at my love’s back.
I could feel the scene beginning to change. Afraid of what I would be forced to relive next, I pushed against the memories, tearing myself free.
“NNNOOOOO!”
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And then I was back in the real world, still standing in the same spot. My legs collapsed beneath me, and I barely managed to catch myself before I hit the floor.
Lifting my torch, I was able to clearly see now that the cave was man-made, probably by some old wizard with elemental powers, which would also explain the ward guarding the entrance.
Finding my mind starting to drift back to the memory that had been triggered, I forced myself to redirect, settling on the the fact that the tugging in my gut hadn’t lessened any, despite the ordeal I had just gone through.
Getting to my feet, crossbow in one hand, torch in the other, I cleared away my jumbled thoughts, and focused solely on the feeling.
It was definitely coming from deeper inside the cave, so despite my growing reservations, I allowed myself to be led into the bowels of the earth, winding downward, past branch tunnels and rooms, drawn ever deeper by the steadily increasing tugging, til' finally, I arrived at the end of the tunnel. Before me was an absolutely ancient oaken door, fastened into the rock via some very rusty iron hinges. The source of the tugging sensation was on the other side of that door, I was sure of it.
Studying the four rusty hinges, I set down my crossbow and torch, stretched out my hands, palms outward, and concentrated.
A second later, the hinges tore free of the rock and zoomed into my hands.
Smiling, I dropped the hinges on the ground, and, retrieving my torch and crossbow, kicked down the old door.
Beyond, the room inside was circular, about twelve feet in each direction, walls, floor, and roof all made of carved stone. Carved into the floor, all around the edge of the room, were strange runes, in a foreign language I didn’t understand. But that wasn’t what drew my attention the second I stepped into the room, nor was it the faded mural-like pattern scrawled across the back wall.
It was the perfectly symmetrical pedestal, placed in the exact center of the room, with a second ring of runes around it’s base.
Atop the pedestal sat………..a gleaming, perfectly polished nautilus shell.
I could instantly tell the tugging sensation was originating from the mysterious shell.
Why, I didn’t yet know.
I slowly approached the pedestal, as if in a trance, and reaching out, picked up the shell.
Instantly the tugging sensation disappeared. I turned the shell over in my hands, studying it. Other then being extra shiny, it didn’t appear any different than any other nautilus shell.
“So what caused the tugging feeling?” I asked into the silence, not really expecting an answer.
But I got one.
A faint sound became discernible in the room, and it seemed to be coming from the shell in my hand.
Lifting it to my ear cautiously, I was surprised to hear the sound of waves, mixed with the chirping of birds, (though I couldn’t tell what species they were from), along with other sounds I didn’t recognize. This close to my face, I noticed for the first time there was something different about this shell.
The stripes on the nautilus were translucent, and in the one closest to me, I could faintly see a beach, made of white sand.
I blinked, and the image was gone.
Shaking my head to clear it, thinking maybe I had imagined it, I turned away from the pedestal, placing the shell in a pocket on my belt.
It was then I realized, without the tugging feeling leading me, I had no idea where I was.
I was lost down here, in this maze of tunnels.
As this set in, my shadow flickered, and disappeared, as the room went dark.
My torch had just gone out.
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Previous Chronicle stories start here.
Leica IIIf + Summaron35mmF3.5
/ Kodak Portra160NC
- selfdeveloping Naniwa Color Kit S (1:1)
/ vuescan
I gotta join the party tonight ( just banquet at the "Izakaya", lol ) so catch you up tomorrow.
沒有例外的，我們都曾獨自通過那長長的隧道來到這裡。
那些寂寞的考驗，是否給了彼此對未來更明確的答案呢？
也許你已經走到我看不見的遠方，而我卻才剛拾起那段未完的旅程。
曾在夏夜裡反覆出現的夢，依舊是我繼續追尋的方向。
而我們的現在，或許也是那些夢裡想像的無限延伸。
走著走著，也許又會迷了路。
但有時夢裡最美的地方，就是獨自佇立在陌生角落前的那份徬徨。
好想都帶回來給你看，只是你的目光早已遠離了那時的夢了。
It is not the Moon, it is the Venus.
I took this photo from the balcony last night at 10:38 p.m. and only 10 minutes later Venus had already disappeared behind the horizon.
In addition to the 300mm I used a 1.7x teleconverter in front of the lens here.
Distance to the larger wind turbine in foreground 10km and only 45 million to Venus ;-)
Fichtelberg
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Elevation 1,214.6 m (3,985 ft)
Location
Fichtelberg is located in Saxony
Germany
The Fichtelberg (German pronunciation: [ˈfɪçtəlbɛɐ̯k]) is a mountain with two main peaks in the middle of the Ore Mountains in the east German state of Saxony, near the Czech border. At 1,214.6 m (3,985 ft) above sea level, the Fichtelberg is the highest mountain in Saxony, the second highest in the Ore Mountains and used to be the highest mountain in East Germany. Its subpeak is 1,206 m (3,957 ft) high.
Man Orchid / aceras anthropophora. Barnack Hills and Hollows, Cambridgeshire. 25/05/17.
'SOME BLASTS FROM THE PAST.' (2)
An image made just over two years ago and my first ever sighting of a Man Orchid.
One of just three plants found growing on a steep bank, it took some dedicated searching for ... even though I'd been given directions to the general area it grew in. Once found, I was thrilled and absolutely enthralled by it.
The orchid gets it's name because the small, stemless flowers resemble human figures. The petals and sepals form a 'head' whilst the lobes of the labellum form a 'torso' and 'limbs'. I'd never seen anything like it before and spent ages looking at it's structure and making far too many images!
One the west side of Trail Ridge Rd. we stopped for a bit and as the back of Denise's hat say's this is Colorado's Rocky Mt. National Pk.
Class 360 Desiros were once an extremely common sight here on Heathrow Connect services but since being ousted by 387s they have been in store at Long Marston. Newly outshopped in EMR colours from Eastleigh Arlington Works the former Greater Anglia example (last of the fleet) is being towed back to Cricklewood by 47 749.
In my depth of sight I see, the basics of nature staring at me.
The Longing for simpler times and the most basic of needs.
Searching for quite in the rush of getting things done.
In my depth of sight I see, the basic redesign of me.
The Longing for the simple to be more common than weeds.
Searching for a rush of peace before the morning sun.
In my depth of sight I see, the basic creation of love in me.
The longing for a simple life starts with simple deeds.
Searching for anything that brings a sense of calm to one.
In my depth of sight I see, basic ties to the earth and me.
The longing for simple has been found in these tiny seeds.
Searching for nothing as the earth sprouts my daily fun.
.......
Photograph of new seeds sprouting from out of the crumbles of old tree's. Mirrored only.
www.facebook.com/pg/Aurorarose1stTheFacesofNature/about/?...
Posted slightly out of chronological order. Our first sight of the Pacific Ocean. We drove from Las Vegas to San Simeon this day and were determined to see sunset from the beach. The hour approaching the coast was unbelievably beautiful, and I wish I had time to stop and take more pictures. Unfortunately, this in the only picture I got of the whole drive. We made it to the ocean just before sunset (it was a 2.5 mile run/walk to get to the coast, but we made it).
Cambria, CA
Kodak Ektar
Hasselblad 500C
NS SD60 6658 leads I05 (extra 205) west under the signals at CP 506 in Hammond, IN. Nice to see a NS SD60, which is getting to be a rare find, leading a hot intermodal.
Milk tankers are a frequent sight around these parts as they come and go from the local dairy factory at Hautapu.
After the Foden-era passed (due to non-availability, thank you Paccar!)...Fonterra went Swedish, with a predominantly Volvo fleet. Scania was also introduced subsequently albeit in lesser number. Fast forward to 2020 and Mercedes-Benz Arocs are being trialled in the fleet alongside larger numbers of Volvo's FH model.
Here we see an R-series Scania truck and trailer tanker passing through Hautapu as it heads away from the nearby factory.
Sometimes we meet very special people in our lives that really touch us.
Yesterday I met someone very special. And I really hope he stays in my life.......
The demise of the former RhB Class Ge 6/6" locomotives has seen the regular use of Ge 4/4"' machines as well as the smaller Ge 4/4" units on freight trains. In this view taken a Bever, refurbished 650 had charge of the Albula Valley freight 5129, the 10:05 Chur GB to Samedan.
All images on this site are exclusive property and may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, transmitted, manipulated or used in any way without expressed written permission of the photographer. All rights reserved – Copyright Don Gatehouse
Thanks to Detroitika's help, I was able to make a fairly good looking ZU-23-2. I really like this build, especially because of the 'cross-functionality' that will be explained in the descriptions of my M113 APC and soon to come pics ;)
Oh yeah, expect a certain MBT and a certain cargo truck soon!
It was a beautiful sight at this historic church in small town Hanalei when clouds rolled over at sunset
The ritualised combat between 2 male adders (Vipera berus) known as the 'dance of the adders' and once thought to be a courtship dance between male and female. Top UK wildlife sight, always a privilege to see.
I have been hearing the juvenile red-bellied woodpeckers up in the trees for the last few days, and watched the adult male loading up on globs of suet - but this morning was my first clear sighing of one of the juveniles. Andover, NJ
After our visit to the appliance store, we stopped at Walmart to pick up a few things before grabbing a bite to eat. And I figured I may as well do another rear view while I was at it. 😉
Panoramic from Graça Viewpoint, one of the most beautiful views of Lisbon city.
D800 + AF-S Nikkor 24-70mm f / 2.8G ED @ 70mm
ISO 100 - f / 11
Lee GND 0.6 SE
Merge of 13 vertical photos
original file - 2109mm x 603mm | 24911x7117px
Press L to see it Large
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