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Taken in Arthur's on the Green, a beautiful boho bistro in a converted public lavatory in Twickenham
Running nearly 3 hours late, Indian Railways WAP-4 22996 was recorded at Phillaur Junction, Punjab hauling the 14:50 Tatanagar Junction to Jammu Tawi Express 18101. This TATA-JAT service had commenced its 2,030 kms. journey from Jharkand State, East India on Sunday and was scheduled to arrive at its destination in Jammu at 14:10 on Tuesday afternoon [Day 3].
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Snow White (mixed breed) & Dushara Tatters and Rags (Somali), 14.03.2014.
Videos at www.youtube.com/user/FinnFrodeHansen.
Home page: www.raarup.eu
Olympus E-400 Digital Camera.
Commuters heading to Penn Station on 7th & 34th during the snow. It was actually a heavy sleet and the Empire State Building is usually very visible from this view point.
It's been more then a month since my last my update so here a little catch up from me. Well basically school has totally took over my life as usual, in which I been working hard to get ready to do my senior project. Today I finally took the afternoon to take some fall pictures near one of our parks. The weather was really nice and its good to be behind the camera again.
Couple of my friend are planing this big trip during fall break to travel across Tennessee, I am pretty sure I gonna take some pictures during the trip. Really excited that this is my first long road trip and plus TN look amazing during fall especially in the mountain areas. Hopefully I can get some nice colors range.
Have a great week ahead! almost friday!
excited to visit everyone's stream soon!
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As if looking through a spotter scope, the Thames River is viewed from the upper terrace at the Sky Garden, London.
View the entire London Set
View my - Most Interesting according to Flickr
My first dome sighting tonight in my kitchen.
No doubt as they get stronger & brighter I will see more of them ;-D
Treat everyone with politeness, even those who are rude to you - not because they are nice, but because you are. ~Author Unknown
The first sighting of one of the young Kingfishers occurred on the day prior to them fledging. This first glimpse was just the end of a beak but we were excited. Maybe if we had a view into the nest we would have seen them earlier.
(Clare)
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
DSC_5863 - 302 - LK03 GHA - Dennis Trident/Plaxton President - Liverpool City Sights (Sightseeing Liverpool; Ex-Metroline TP443) - Liverpool, Old Haymarket 11/01/17
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!”
—————————
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.
————————————
Previous Chronicle stories start here.
In the sculpture garden of the National Art Gallery, Canberra, man made fog makes an eerie sight in the pool, with sunken heads. It may be eerie, yet it is a special delight for photography.
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.
encounter cormorant nesting sight as I brought my kiddos for a walk at the shadow cliff this morning, my kiddos loved the place will do another walk soon