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Built 1878 at no. 202 Church Street.
"One of Cobourg’s most architecturally exuberant houses, this ‘Tuscan Villa’ house was built for Robert Mulholland, a merchant who made a small fortune in western land and grain speculation." - info from Experience Cobourg.
"Cobourg (/ˈkoʊbɜːrɡ/ KOH-burg) is a town in the Canadian province of Ontario, located in Southern Ontario 95 km (59 mi) east of Toronto and 62 km (39 mi) east of Oshawa. It is the largest town in and seat of Northumberland County. Its nearest neighbour is Port Hope, 7 km (4 mi) to the west. It is located along Highway 401 (exits 472 and 474) and the former Highway 2 (now Northumberland County Road 2). To the south, Cobourg borders Lake Ontario. To the north, east and west, it is surrounded by Hamilton Township.
The land which present-day Cobourg occupies was previously inhabited by Mississauga (Anishinaabe-speaking) peoples. The settlements that make up today's Cobourg were founded by United Empire Loyalists in 1798 within Northumberland County, Home District, Province of Upper Canada. Some of the founding fathers and early settlers were Eliud Nickerson, Joseph Ash, Zacheus Burnham and Asa Allworth Burnham. The Town was originally a group of smaller villages such as Amherst and Hardscrabble, which were later named Hamilton. In 1808 it became the district town for the Newcastle District. It was renamed Cobourg in 1819, in recognition of the marriage of Princess Charlotte Augusta of Wales to Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld (later Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, who would later become King of Belgium).
By the 1830s, Cobourg had become a regional centre, mostly due to its fine harbour on Lake Ontario. In 1835 the Upper Canada Academy was established in Cobourg by Egerton Ryerson and the Wesleyan Conference of Bishops. On 1 July 1837, Cobourg was officially incorporated as a town. In 1841 the Upper Canada Academy's name was changed to Victoria College. In 1842 Victoria College was granted powers to confer degrees. Victoria College remained in Cobourg until 1892, when it was moved to Toronto and federated with the University of Toronto. In 1842, John Strachan founded the Diocesan Theological Institute in Cobourg, an Anglican seminary that became integrated into the University of Trinity College in Toronto in 1852." - info from Wikipedia.
Late June to early July, 2024 I did my 4th major cycling tour. I cycled from Ottawa to London, Ontario on a convoluted route that passed by Niagara Falls. during this journey I cycled 1,876.26 km and took 21,413 photos. As with my other tours a major focus was old architecture.
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By Farfahinne- manif des mal et des non loges a Paris le samedi 11 Octobre
farfahinne.blogspot.com/2008/10/francemanif-des-mal-et-de...
Hasselblad 500 C/M
Carl Zeiss Distagon 50mm f/4 C T*
Kodak Ektar 100
Bellini Foto C-41
Scan from negative film
"I cannot answer that question. I can only speculate." David Sedaris
Question: What is the greatest engine for Truth created by Humanity in the legal systems of the world?
ANSWER: ________________ Yes, cross-examination!
Reflection: In legal testimony given across the world, how much is mere speculation passed off as: "This is the truth as I remember the facts." Oh, thank you for that great engine of TRUTH that some countries employ to attempt to weed out the lies and speculations.
EXPLORE at www.flickr.com/explore/2008/02/24
# 190 on February 28, 2008
# 403 on November 10, 2012
# 295 on August 7, 2022
I love the 4th of July. It's a great time of year and a great holiday for us here in the U.S. I also love to shoot fireworks, although I'm not always happy with my results. I have gotten some pretty decent shots of fireworks, but I think the real challenge is to get the shot in a good setting. This means a good foreground and/or background.
Well, this year we decided not to brave the crowds, and took the opportunity to use a friend's house with a view. I took this and plenty of other shots from the backyard, around the pool. My real idea was to sit in the pool and watch the fireworks (I know, life's rough). But a storm blew in as I lit the BBQ and setup my camera. It poured rain and we weren't even safe under the patio.
The upside is that there was lightning, another thing I love to shoot--not that I have any good lightning shots. Anyway, at that point I knew I wanted to get a shot of fireworks and lightning together.
The downside was that the fireworks were farther out than I had hoped. That and the lightning was fairly random (duh). Only Marty and Doc Brown knew where lighting was going to strike, and just that one time. But, honestly, it did tend to strike in the same general areas.
I had the camera on a tripod and switched between two different lenses--a 17-55 and a 70-200. This was shot with a 70-200, Canon 1D Mark II, tripod and a release cord. I focused on the horizon and turned off the AF. I would frame up the shot and open the shutter, hoping for a lightning strike and some fireworks at roughly the same time. Although I did use bulb, I also tried setting the camera to 20 and 30 second exposures. This allowed a long enough exposure to capture the lightning (with any luck), and a short enough exposure not to blow everything out (with any luck).
Typically you shoot fireworks at F11 or F16, on bulb and use a black card to cover the lens in between bursts. The same can be said, roughly, for lighting. But I believe lightning varies in intensity more than fireworks. There are actually a few stray lighting strikes in this shot that aren't as bright as the main ones.
The camera's LCD isn't too helpfull and the Histogram isn't either due to all the dark space. So there is a lot of gess work and speculation in these shots--but I guess that, and the hunt, is what makes it fun!
Ultimately this was shot on bulb, and I held the shutter open 14.3 seconds. The aperture was F9 and ISO 100. The focal length was 200. I shot it RAW (as I do just about everything) and I converted it in PS3, tweaking the color temp, recovering some blown highlights and brightening it up a bit. Once converted I adjusted the curves and cloned out an airplane before sharpening. I even played with the levels to get the ambient light in the sky where I wanted it. My goal was to make it look like it did when I was standing there, as best as I could remember anyway.
It's not the shot I wanted, but I do think it is interesting.
There has been much speculation on possible traditional use of this mushroom as an intoxicant in other places such as the Middle East, Eurasia, North America, and Scandinavia
After endless speculation about an imaginary ban on hybrid vehicles in Dartford the 96 now sees hybrid vehicles. Here is Stagecoach London 13009, a Volvo B5LH / Gemini 3, on the 96 to Bluewater at the start of its journey in Woolwich.
Another late afternoon shot, this time at Thornham on the Norfolk coast. I took a bad picture here many years ago, so it was certainly time to return. :) These intriguing timbers inspire much speculation on-line and in books: Even the County Archaeological Department appears to be bewildered. One suddenly comes across them at the end of a tongue of land - the moment the harbour itself comes into view, having been hidden behind low banks. Despite being popular with walkers and bird-watchers, this feels a lonely, private place and the effect is very striking.
Gresham's law - that "bad money drives out good" - holds true for history. Drivel drives out fact. But, dear reader, this is not an inexplicable enigma, a petrified prehistoric forest or an ancient holy site. Yet it does tell a moderately interesting story :)
In 1786 the River Hun was diverted during land reclamation, entering the sea through a tidal creek at Thornham. This significantly enlarged Thornham Harbour. Two years later, George Hogg, a wealthy Lynn merchant, began commercial development. He built two granaries and a small warehouse. These timbers are the remains of a crude breakwater which protected the granaries on the seaward side. The ramshackle structure remained intact until the 1953 floods, when the buildings - which had long fallen into ruin - were completely swept away.
For a few decades in the early 19th century, the tiny ports of North Norfolk were relatively prosperous. Thornham’s trade - essentially grain out, coal in - was conducted on Billyboys - seagoing sailing barges based in Hull. Shaped just like an old wooden date box, these small craft could handle the shallow, sandy creeks and minute cargoes.
Thornham never stood a chance as a commercial harbour. Silt, railways and the collapsing price of grain doomed the Norfolk coasting trade, which was barely viable by the 1870s. The last Billyboys slipped away with King Edward.
All of which has been largely forgotten. Only these fragments remain.
In many parts of the British Isles stone circles and similar antiquities were “explained” as dancers turned to stone . “The Merry Dancers” are a traditional name for the northern lights and seemed to fit here. The North Sea ethos of this coast is not the least part of its magic.
I’m going to be away for a few days - when I come back I’ll be commenting :) Thank you for your tolerance :)
Thornham Harbour, Norfolk. Olympus OM-2n, Zuiko f2.8 35mm, Kodak T-Max 400, Orange Filter.
The Silken whisper of Flickering Desires
A Chronicle
Adapted from the Final Entry Entitled:
Their Regal Gambit
Subtitled:
While Sherlock Holmes vacationed
The first score had been made, now for the Coup de Grace! So far their little operation had gone as smooth as silk, or in this case, satin. Now just to make sure the husband of the silken gowned brunette displaying the jewels in question was still safely out of the picture! Then Mollie would let her husband know that with the coast clear, freeing him to stage his approach of the lady in the long swishing satin gown he had been keeping an eye on all evening. The one who was wearing the exquisite necklace of fiery flickering diamonds, just daring someone to expertly slip it away the throat of its unsuspecting owner.
And therein lay the rub, She happily thought….
As Mollie made her way down the quiet corridor to the gentlemen’s smoking lounge, she lovingly played through her mind the series of unfortunate ( or fortunate?) events that had led her and her husband to this place. It had all began with an innocent one named Tabitha…….
Mollies’ Flash back
They had first come across Tabitha at a resort casino deep in the Catskills. Mollie and her husband had been there about three days, scoping out the grounds, and its wealthy clientele. At the casino they both spotted Tabitha at the same time. She was seated at a baccarat table, really standing out in an elegant dress of gold and black striped silk and velvet Her well-toned body displayed numerous pieces of expensive jewelry. A fat little purse dangled, unheeded by her side. Tabitha had held Mollie’s attention mainly due to the strong resemblance she had to herself. Tabitha’s jewelry, a flashy diamond journey style necklace, matching earrings, wide diamond tennis bracelet, and multiple gem encrusted rings, had held Mollies pickpocket husbands’.
Mollie went on to the bar and watched as her husband waited for the seat next to Tabitha to become vacant. Then he sat, asking for chips, while unobtrusively eyeing Tabitha’s bracelet. He began striking up a conversation with Tabitha, finding her to be an easy mark. He soon learned from the chatty girl that she was a divorced, upper executive for a well-known digital arts company servicing the movie industry. It was during this conversation that Tabitha babbled about the upscale, invitation only(you know), black tie formal ball she would be attending in England the next month. Now, as her husband was keeping Tabitha occupied Mollie had walked by the pair, ‘tripping’ into her husband, who palmed off to her , the diamond bracelet which had been ever so subtly slipped from around the unwary Tabatha’s’ wrist. Walking away with the bracelet secured in her purse, Mollie made her way to their small bungalow. Her husband did not break in his conversation with Tabitha; a mark would seldom suspect a friendly person of stealing from her.
Later that evening, Mollie wore the pricy bracelet while mutually admiring it over a bottle of merlot with her husband. They discussed the high-class affair Tabitha had been bragging about. Wistfully, Mollie admitted it was a shame they had not received an invite. Her husband smiled, and pulled a thickly embossed and crested envelope from his pocket. Easily adopting a British accent, he said “The silly little twit was carrying this in her purse!” The envelope revealed a pair of invitations to the Princess’s Jubilee Royal Ball. As the pair continued to empty the bottle of fine merlot, what had started as speculation, turned towards reality, and soon plans had been laid.
As they lay in bed later that night, Mollie turned to her husband, just think about the jewels that will be worn at the English Ball, she shivered with the delightful thoughts. Do you remember the last time we were in England? Mollie looked at her husband slyly, you remember, the Wriggling Whelp Whispering Wisk! She stated teasingly. Mollie knew the quickest way to get her husband’s goat was coming up with silly phrases to describe his more outlandish endeavors. Such phrases like The Tingling Touch Ice Melt, The Slippery Slick Taffeta Pull, The Glossy Gowned Dangling Peel, or her personal favorite, The Ticklish Wedge Clam Dip, never failed to get a response. In this case the response was a brief pillow fight leading into a romantic interlude, ending up with them in bed as they reminisced about the last time they had “visited” England a few years back…..
It had proven a fairly profitable venture with the jewelry alone netting almost 100,000 pounds. It all had culminated quite nicely at one of the posh events they had crashed that final weekend. Their final score had come about from a rambunctious doe eyed Fourteen year old in a shiny dress who had been oblivious to the valuably delicious gold pendent studded with small rubies and emeralds that sparkled ever so invitingly as it swung from her throat. A pair of matching dangling earrings dripped from her ears as she has run around unminded by her elders. Mollie had indignantly stated to her husband that the antique trinkets were simply just too expensive for a child so squirminly young to be trusted with. Her husband then went about the task to prove his wife correct in her statement.
After talking a bit about the English Girls parents reaction to the unsolved disappearance of their daughters ultra-pricey pendent , Mollie came back to the present and asked if the lady in the maroon silk that her husband pointed out the previous evening would be wearing the same jewels to the dance tomorrow night? Or better her husband replied sleepily, good Mollie pronounced, I did like her emeralds.
In Merry Ole England
They had arrived in England several weeks before the Royal Ball and began the preparations.
In an irony of fate, the profit they had realized from poor Tabitha’s bracelet had paid for a large chunk of their little excursion. Keeping his accent, and adding a trim beard, Mollies husband looked radically different from the man Tabitha had encountered. During the weeks following their arrival, the pair had practiced like they always did before undertaking a new venture. But this time it was with a more daring edge, they quite simply could not afford being caught red handed in a foreign country. Mollie assumed her practice the role. That of the richly dressed, well jeweled quarry. Her husband would stalk and attempt to relieve her of a piece of her jewelry as she went about her business, shopping! The idea being that, If he was able to do so without being caught by an obviously aware Mollie, than he should have no problem at the Royal Ball. As it usually happened when they practiced in this manner, her husband did incredibly well. Mollie had had several pieces of jewelry vanish from her person during the week, without her noticing how or when.
The final night of practice Mollie decided to dress to kill. Looking quite devastating in a glossy gold halter and a long brown velvet skirt with gold stiletto heels clicking as she moved. A diamond heart pendant hung down from her neck, swaying provocatively out from between her breasts. A bracelet, similar to Tabitha’s purloined diamonds, was wrapped around her wrist.
She left their penthouse and made her way to the street outside. Some type of festival was going on as she waded through the crowded streets to the nightclub. Her rings sparkled as they kept rhythm with her swaying diamond waterfall earrings. Just daring her husband to make a move for any of them.
Mollie drank and danced the night away with no hide or hair of her husband until she returned late that evening to their apartment. She found him in the hot tub, smirking. She undressed and joined him. Okay, how did u do it she demanded? I felt nothing, no one bumped or brushed against me all evening that I was not aware of. He opened his fist, allowing her heart diamond pendant to dangle freely in front of her. A magician never reveals his tricks my little cat, he purred, as the pendant swayed in a sparkling arch.
Cat was short for “Cat Lady”, a moniker he had placed upon her when she had broken into a sleeping woman’s room and removed the jewels from her gold case, and even managed to slip off a ring she was wearing. The fact that she was passed out in a drunken stupor, still dressed in her long party gown, didn’t count , or so her husband teased.
You should have been a surgeon! , my dear, Mollie exclaimed with pride. Then she leaned towards him, her green eyes gleaming in earnest, time for a real practice run Mon Cherie, she said in dead seriousness. Then Her eyes opened wide, I got it she exclaimed, I’ll call it The Slinking Sneaky Shearing Snag she pronounced joyfully, getting a face full of water in reply to her effort. Okay Cat, let’s get down to business he retorted, I know just the affair. Mollie listened intensively as her Husband described their next plans, derived while eavesdropping on a couple of ladies shopping in a jewelers.
The next weekend (two weeks to the evening before the Royal Ball) Mollie found herself at a quaint upscale wedding reception held in the large gardens of a country church. She was attired in the same bewitching ensemble that she had been wearing on the final night of practice. Her only jewels were a recently acquired pair of sparkly cascading earrings set with emeralds and diamonds. The affair of the plump piqued peacock plucking she had mused while getting dressed. The only other exception was that the long fiery red hair she had inherited from her Irish namesake grandmother had been cut and dyed blond. Blue contacts had also been added to the disguise to hide her vivid green eyes.
They soon targeted an older jewel laden snob at the reception. An older lady , well jeweled, of the arrogant know it all, obey me totally type whom everyone tries to avoid. While Mollie engaged the mark in a mostly one sided conversation(the older ladies) the lady had become so deeply engrossed about talking about herself and her ties with royalty, that she never detected being relieved of a heirloom antique gold chain and jeweled pendent by Mollies husband who had approached her unnoticed from behind.
It was all Mollie could do no to bring attention to it by looking at the wickedly expensive piece as it was slipped up and away from the Dowager’s ruffled heavy satin blouse.
This time it was mollies turn to keep chatting as her husband headed to the door. He had almost made it when two youths ran into him as they scurried away from a rather sullen looking tween girl they had been teasing, and now were in possession of her purse. Mollie stole a look as she saw her husband topple onto the chasing girl. He managed to extracted himself from the girls long slinky gown that she had probably been forced into by an overly conceited mother. He apologized, and left the girl to go after her antagonizes. Later, when Mollie had caught up to him she teased him about his clumsiness. He just smiled, and pulled out from his vest pocket the most exquisitely matched pearls that the youth had been openly displaying from around her throat and wrist at the reception!
They were, most definitely, ready. The fated evening could not come soon enough. But it finally did.
They had had no problem with using the fancy invitations to gain entrance. Security was heavy, as expected, but with a very lax atmosphere. Mollie was wearing the salmon coloured gown she had had especially made for such occasions, her new blond hair style and the blue contacts. In a coup foray of sorts, Mollie wore the pearls that had been taken by her husband during his run in with the sullen girl at the wedding reception. Her husband was wearing his usual tux with a hand tied bowtie. His ruffled sleeves easily moved up and down along his wrists.
Mollie and her husband split up, each spending the first few hours mingling solo, and taking it all in as they thoroughly enjoyed the Ball and all its many stimulating attractions. It had gone smooth as silk. Spending the first few hours prowling while the guests liquored up Mollie scoping out exactly the right candidates. Dangling jewels with easy clasps were everywhere!, it was surprising how the best of jewel makers skimped on the clasps required to keep the expensive pieces in place. Clothing also made a difference. Silks and satins were quiet and slipped easily. Taffeta could be whispery, more of a challenge. Velvet could easily snag as a piece was being lifted. But these were the costliest of materials, and the wearers would logically be wearing the costlier of jewelry.
Mollie and her husband regrouped several hours later, unobtrusively under the pretense of dancing. Gently discussing their plans. They settled on three likely prospects amongst the almost three hundred present. The first was an older spinster type wearing a luxurious dress of embroidered navy silk and displaying jewelry studded with diamonds and sapphires. The second was a middle aged snotty blonde wearing a shamelessly low cut green silk taffeta gown (which Mollie secretly liked)wearing a thick gold bracelet studded with vulgarly large rubies surrounded by a sea of small sparkly diamonds. She was alone, and a heavy drinker. The third was a longshot. A lanky , flighty brunette wearing immensely valuable jewels of blindingly sparkling Diamonds. Her necklace alone was in the upper hundred thousand range, with a clasp that was one of the easiest to coax open. The only problem was that she came with an obviously newlywed husband who doted on her every move. Both were heavy drinkers, and if he would only leave his wife’s side for, say about fifteen minutes, the necklace would be theirs!
They had decided that any one of the three would produce results worth a king’s ransom, appropriately enough, all things considered. The plan was for her husband to take his time selecting the easiest jewel to acquire from amongst the ones the three marks were displaying , make his move, and pass it off to Mollie who would leave forthwith, while her husband stayed a little while longer to make sure everything remained calm before making his exit stage right via the hallway.
As Mollie went to her station, she saw the Blue silken lady, along with her sapphires and diamonds, leaving with a rather unsavory looking male, eyeing her with a look Mollie knew all too well. Mollie decided to follow them, thinking to herself that some women are just prone to being victimized. Good luck with that one Mollie thought unkindly, as she stole one last look at the ladies glistening sapphires, hope he leaves her with something she sarcastically wished wickedly to the couple’s backside as they went out the exit at the end of the hall. One down and out she thought. Then she spied the husband of the newlywed pair heading down the hall towards her with an older, grey bearded man. Getting close she heard them talking about the Gentlemen’s smoking lounge. Mollie decided to give her husband a signal, but when she found him he was already in the arms of the blond. Molly immediately noticed the absence of the jeweled bracelet from his partners’ wrist. She went back to her table. Immediately she was set upon by some drunken snob asking her to dance. She allowed herself to be taken up into his arms. Spending a few unenchanting minutes with Mr. two left feet, before her husband tapped him on the shoulder cutting in. They danced, Mollie placing a hand into his pocket and feeling something cold and metal wrapped her hand around it. Looking him in the eyes she told him about the now unguarded bride, as she palmed the willowy blonde’s bracelet. They decided to go for it, and as the music ended, Mollie made her way to the hall, where she secreted the blondes bracelet safely away
One down, one more to go! An exquisite necklace of flickering diamonds waiting to be nimbly slipped away from the throat of its unsuspecting wearer. Now just to make sure the husband of the silken gowned brunette displaying the jewels in question was still safely out of the picture! Then to let her husband know that with the coast clear, he was free to stage his approach of the lady in the long swishing satin gown he had been keeping a drooling eye on all evening. The one wearing the exquisite necklace of flickering diamonds waiting to be so expertly slipped away from the throat of its unsuspecting wearer.
She was able to see the groom in windowed room, the husband and his friend were smoking a pair of long cigars and drinking brandy in large glass snifters. Mollie passed unnoticed as she mad e her way to the ladies powder room. He was still there, only halfway through a long stogie as she passed again on her way back. Neither time was she observed. Mollie mad her way back to the Ballroom. She sat down at one side of the room, once again allowing the sights of so many bejeweled women to soak in. Her husband was dancing with a lady in a flowing red ball gown, jewels sparkling in abundance, not aware of the danger so close at hand, nor that even with her husband and his particular skill set so close to them, that at that moment nothing could be safer from his fingertips. Finally she caught her husband’s eye. Mollie innocently rubbed a finger along the side of her nose, a subtle signal that it was safe for him to precede.
Mollie was now uncharacteristically having butterflies in her stomach; it was a huge gamble, trying to get away with a pair of thefts in this inhospitable atmosphere. She kept second guessing herself, Bird in hand she kept thinking. But the lure was too great, and it was with a heavy sigh of relief when Mollie saw her husband finally kiss the hand of the young bride after their dance. Mollie could see that she was no longer sporting the thin silver necklace and its row of at least two caret diamonds that had been encircling her throat with their rippling flashy brilliance all evening. Molly stayed put, not daring to leave until her husband had brushed by her in passing and made his way out the hallway to the exit. She waited for a long fifteen minutes, then curling her hand around the necklace that had been dropped into her lap as he had passed; she gained the safety of the hallway. Just in time. For coming down the hallway was none other than the lady in the long luxurious gown and now bare throats groom and his distinguished looking friend. She passed by them, feeling the men eyeing her with roving wolfish gazes. Then she passed them, and proceeded unhindered to once again enter the ladies’ powder room where the necklace soon joined with the Blondes bracelet in its hiding spot.. Than calmly Mollie left, walking past two security Bobbies, virtually unnoticed. The Groom had been absolutely ignorant to the fact that his young Bride’s ridiculously valuable necklace had walked right past him out the door.
Mollie did not let herself really breathe until she had gained the safety of the street. She allowed herself to imagine the commotion as the news of the missing jewels were circulated around the cavernous Ballroom. There would be a flurry of activity, flashes and sparkles as the women checked themselves reassuringly that they were still in possession of their trinkets. Mollie would have loved to have stayed and watched, but obviously could not do so. She rejoined her husband at their meeting place and they drove off. They made their way to Ireland where they spent a cautious week touring before leaving for the states.
Once the profit was realized from their haul that eventful evening, including obnoxious Dowagers the jeweled antique pendent, and was added in to the modest amount they had already accumulated from previous adventures, Mollie and her husband were able to retire to Ireland and live quite an unpretentious life together in a small stone manor in the woods.
Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
Discovery of another planet that might support life has given rise to speculation about intelligent life elsewhere in the universe – and whether such lifeforms would need the Gospel. But “if there is intelligent life on other planets, we definitely need to tell them Earth’s Gospel story and learn what their history is,” Nettles told Baptist Press in written comments.
mbcpathway.com/2016/09/25/intergalactic-missions/
Photo used with permission; however, reproduction is prohibited. For more information on this photograph, please email kennymccune@mobaptist.org.
Dark clouds hang over the Qantas Engineering base in Brisbane as a flock of Airbus A330's wait out their COVID-19 enforced storage. The dark clouds are not limited to the planes. Speculation of a closure of this relatively new facility has been rife all year as Qantas looks to save money to ride out the pandemic with international travel still highly restricted, despite a supposed number in excess of 30000 Australians still desperate to return home. And when things seem bad, they can always get worse with a new and growing cluster of COVID cases in the Northern Beaches of Sydney, possibly sourced from international flight crew. This can never be helpful to international travel either (and it goes without saying, the level of fear in Australia where unfortunate complacency has set in because of our comparatively very good control of the virus).
There is absolutely no suggestion by the media or me in reflecting on this news that any Qantas flight crew are involved or the cause.
This quote from ABC news 18/12/2020 - from the Premier of New South Wales...
"Ms Berejiklian also confirmed new rules for inbound international airline crew would roll out next Tuesday.
Presently airline crew are able to self-isolate upon their arrival in NSW in either a home or accommodation.
They are not subjected to the mandatory 14-day hotel quarantine scheme.
There are between 2,000 and 3,000 airline crew arriving in NSW a week, Health Minister Brad Hazzard said.
Ms Berejiklian confirmed there would be two police-operated hotels in Sydney for airline crew "as opposed to 25 or 26 [hotels]".
She said the "lack of compliance" was the issue that caused the rules to be tightened."
"It's the breach of the guidelines... it's people, unfortunately, doing the wrong thing."
On another note, Qantas turned 100 this year which put a significant damper on celebrations for the Flying Kangaroo. After about 14 years flying in country Queensland and Northern Terrifory, Qantas Empire Airways Limited as it was known then was Incorporated in Brisbane on 18 January 1934 with ten shares. Despite its original routes and the state of its birth and incorporation being Queensland, the 100th Anniversary flyover occurred over Sydney a month or two back with hardly a nod to this state bar the first letter in the Company's famous name. I would hate to think that the border closures then in force which were rather despised by Qantas management may have contributed in some way to this apparent lack of recognition. Sad really for an event that could still have been cautiously celebrated Australia wide. I guess it saved money when money was short!
No doubt the Qantas Founder's Museum in outback Longreach (the fleet name for the 747-400's also) celebrated the Centenary as much as possible but they may have been still closed also.
2020 also saw the withdrawal of the final iconic Boeing 747-400's from the fleet. They had been slated for withdrawal late this year but their departure for the grim desert in the USA was hastened by COVID. I do understand that several of the last aircraft were sold to GE and will live on, probably for testing new equipment including engines.
The story below has it threads from a daydream I had on our way home to wales, two days after our family attended a formal do in Scotland.
My twin brother and I were just 16.
Mum had me dressed up in a brown satin gown that mimicked her green one.
I was wearing rhinestone jewellery.
Mum was wearing her expensive diamond earrings, which I alone felt received far too much attention from strangers. Or was I just jealous?
Then I had the unsettling experience of my fancy rhinestone bracelet vanishing from my wrist under, what I alone had felt, were suspicious circumstances.
But thoughts like that are what goes with the territory of the pickpocketing games my twin brother and I like to role-play at home.
Though my bracelet was found and returned the next day, the events at the posh dance in Scotland, added with the vivid circumstances of what I dreamed that evening the night I lost it, along with my speculation over what caused my bracelet’s loss, remained firmly entrenched in my imagination.
And yes, at the dance, there was one sly-eyed lady who attached herself to our family. A far too slick talking stranger who I felt uneasy around and did not trust from the getgo.
So, with all that said:
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Dirty Rotten Scoundrel
(I preyed till the end)
A female pickpockets perspective
I do love a good, ultra-posh gathering, especially when I’m not invited and have to crash it.
This evening I was able to slip in with a group of chirpy young ladies.
Easily entering the establishment and orchestrating an even easier bumping lift of a fat leather wallet from the dangling purse carried by one of the taffeta-gowned ladies in my surrogate group.
It all give me a tingly feeling of good things to come as I went to the lady’s washroom just off a hall by the main exit.
There, in a stall, I emptied the wallet of notes, £200, and discarded it under a linen-covered table piled high with small towels on my way out.
I left the powder room, now hungrily on the prowl as I explored my new patch.
I meandered around. Admiring, to myself, the glamorous gowns, dresses, and delicious jewels the ladies were wearing.
Gleamingly smooth pearls, glittery diamonds, and stunning pieces set with every colour of gemstones imaginable.
All are displayed in abundance along mouth-wateringly well-fitted velvet, satin, taffeta, and other sleek backdrops of an expensive ladies' attire.
My eyes also eagerly took in the plump bulges of pockets holding thicke wallets and shiny gold and silver watches being worn by the regulation-required tuxedo-clad males who accompanied some of the ladies.
Myself? I was dressed in a tight-fitted, soft velvet frock, perfect for squirming in close and also carrying a shoulder purse. Not too large, I needed to fit in with the primarily clutch purse-carrying ladies. Which, aside from wearing only 1/4 carat stud diamonds in my ears, I somewhat did.
It was a most titillating experience, moving in and out of the crowded main room, casually looking over the well-dressed guests. Hunting for an opportunity.
Which I soon found, an early twenties male, succulent in a black tux and hand-tied bow tie sporting a gold watch chain around his waist. Along with the noticeable bulge( no not that kind) of a thicke note-filled wallet in his jacket pocket.
I walked by, gathering his attention. His eyes followed and I stopped and pulled a cigarette and round lighter from my purse.
I carry two lighters a square one I use privately, and a round one that has no fuel.
I unsuccessfully tried to light my cigarette.
Soon a hand was extended with a lighter. It was my mark. He lit it, and as I bent over my hand went to his chest, reached in, and nimbly lifted out his long fat wallet, deposited it in my purse, along with my lighter.
Successful pickpocketing is all based on how well one pulls off distracting your mark. The move I just pulled off by drawing away attention using an empty lighter is one I use a lot in crowded pubs. Successfully I might add, on both men and women.
I was chatting with him a bit before making an excuse and pulling away. Far too many other opportunities around to waste time chatting with a pickpocketed mark.
I again went to the powder room and inside a stall, extracted £850 from the wallet.
I heard someone come in but did not enter a stall.
After a few minutes of fumbling noises, I heard the water running and splashing.
A female voice was talking.
On silent feet, I carefully opened the stall door and slipped out. Around the corner where the sinks were located, a voluptuous lady in lavender velvet was washing her face.
She was talking to herself, thinking she was alone. She appeared to be having issues with contact lenses by the way she was damning them.
I looked around her figure. A pricey necklace glittered reflecting in the mirror.
On the side of the sink, facing me, we’re long matching lavender satin gloves.
On top of which was a shiny pile of jewels, rings, gold bracelets, and a Rolex ladies watch with diamonds circling the face.
With her eyes closed, she had turned away towards the linen-covered table and was reaching blindly for a towel.
I threw the empty wallet under the table.
As she was distracted by the noise, I reached over with my other hand and picked up the jeweled timepiece. Then I slipped out the door before she turned back to face the mirror.
I headed back out the hallway, finally letting out my breath, with the intention of getting a drink and taking a well-earned break as I decided what to do next. This patch was a gold mine, but have I had my run?
That would be a big No, to my run of luck being over….
For, as I walked out the door, I fell in step behind a pair of exceptionally well-dressed middle-aged teenagers maybe 16-year-olds, brother and sister, so possibly twins?
Both had soft red hair and adorably large hazel eyes.
The sister’s soft hair flowed silkily down back in a thin downy feathery fall to just below her shoulders. And just as her hair had an almost fluid spill, so did the ultra-soft expensive gown she wore. As I walked behind them, my mark ran her hand, ring and bracelet rippling with rich sparkles, along her hair, pulling it forward over her shoulder so it was hanging down in front, exposing her neck to me.
She was deliciously sumptuous in a long flimsy thin silk gown of dark chocolate with rhinestone trimmings. The slinking gown was a wide shoulder halter top, with a slight flare at the bottom, sweeping over the top of silver sandals. I was admiring how the dress fell, gently affirming with tight lines, her youthfully graceful figure.
The tuxedo-wearing brother appears to be overly protective of his sister.
And of no surprises why…
They reached a table and he actually seated her like a real adult male.
I circled for a better look, my eyes not believing what they had glimpsed.
She was indeed wearing some pretty valuable jewellery for one of her age.
A silver, wide chocker-style necklace filled with precious diamonds blazingly encircled her neck. It was something one expected a royal to wear.
A pair of amazing chandelier-style earrings twinkled down from her ears.
A wide diamond bracelet lay elegantly around one of her heavy cream-coloured satin glove-clad wrists.
A mouthwatering ring with a large centre diamond graced her right pinkie.
She also had a brilliant eye-catching broach, small, but set with obscenely valuable diamonds, dangling provokingly between small firm breasts, set in the v of her sleek gown’s neckline.
As I had been following I was able to observe the simple clasps of both necklace and bracelet. My fingers itching the whole time.
I sat myself down at a nearby side bench along a side walkway leading to the hallway down which were the washrooms.
From my perch, I watched them, while pretending to watch the dancers on the ballroom floor across to the far side of the room. I was close enough to catch snippets of their conversation. I had a side view of the brother, a delightfully frontal view of his deliciously pretty twin sister.
I marveled over how I hadn’t been here 30 minutes and aside from already making several nice lifts, had stumbled across a wealthy young chick wearing real diamonds, playing peekaboo along her delightful figure. The whole display just cried out to a thief:
“Here I am,naïvely displaying jewels ripe for the plucking!”
I had my eye on her dazzling necklace as my preferred target. I began making a full study of it. As she was innocently sitting there chatting with her brother, I wondered if it had ever entered into her wildest dreams that the jewels she was wearing were ever at such a risk of being stolen.
Probably not, and all I had to do was watch and wait for opportunities, with which I had several methods to deal with.
One of which I made ready by reaching down and undoing my right open-toed shoe strap, then, trap set, sat back and waited, watching my chosen mark.
Oh, The right shoe strap because I am
left-handed. Now just needed my red-haired mark to use the lady’s loo.
I soon found that where I sat was indeed in a good location.
Lots of potential prospects were passing me by. But none yet had on targetable jewellery as the diamonds the sumptuously chocolate-gowned red head fetchingly wore, especially around her throat.
I kept refocussing my attention on her.
The brother was bored.
He was trying to get his sister to join in on some type of adventure. But she told him they were both too dressed up to play.
I thought to myself:
“Listen to your brother luv, It would be delicious to stumble across you pair outside, alone, looking for adventures.”
I then took my eyes off the savory diamonds around the young girl’s throat, because an older red-headed version of the girl had joined them.
Their mum I correctly surmised. Watching her son help seat her. Wish it was me seating her as I would use that opportunity to lift valuables from her fine figure.
The mother was elegantly dressed in a shiny green satin number. It had a knee-length skirt with quarter-length sleeves and a playfully low scooped neckline.
The dress, like her daughter’s gown, showed off every bump and curve of her still youthful figure.
And she, like her daughter, was also expensively wearing diamonds. But my lord, what a decadent collection of jewels.
A set of sparking ‘ice’ that included stunningly long diamond earrings, diamond bib style necklace, and a flashy diamond-filled bracelet. She also wore two gemmed cocktail rings on the bare fingers of her right hand. A wedding band and diamonds on her left’s ring finger. Flashing out from the V on her shiny dress was a large emerald broach, the same green color as her eyes.
And to literally top it all off, perched on her head like a crown, was set an actual dainty diamond-encrusted tiara!
Perhaps they were (very) minor royals after all?
I would have loved to see her daughter wearing a tiara also. Not sure how I would have gotten it off her head without notice. But I would have been game for a try.
The mother appeared to be alone. No husband for whatever reason seemed to be with them, judging by body language. A language I have become an expert in deciphering.
So the 16-year-old male was apparently the only security that lay between me and lifting some precious diamonds from either the females at the table with him. Though I still favored lifting jewels from the more susceptible sister sitting there dressed like a princess.
So this young watchman could probably easily be led astray long enough for me to plan out an approach.
This made things quite interesting. As I pondered over how to accomplish luring him off, I listened in some more, soon learning:
The father was not with them, I was right about that.
With the father gone their fetchingly attractive, well-dressed, very wealthy mother was open game to many interested males asking her to dance.
Hence her two kids were bored and tired of being alone so much, the fact of which appeared to go over their mum’s diamond shimmering head.
I licked my lips, it would seem that opportunity was going to be knocking at my door if only the mother would leave her children alone again so they could hopefully become open targets.
I was hell-bent on acquiring the daughter’s appealing necklace once the mum, then her brother, were both finally out of the picture.
But it was then that a lady walked by, holding her young toddler. She swished her way right past where I was sitting. Too aloof apparently to notice me. And I had to do a double take on what she wore around her throat.
She was expensively dressed in satin, with a double row of smooth, valuably matched, pearls around her throat. Her long hair is conveniently up. I watched with salivating interest as she made her way past me to the powder room, a child clinging to her shoulder.
When that Lass disappeared, my eyes went back to the table with its diamond-wearing Lass.
The lad was still trying to talk his balking sister into doing something, anything.
She was engagingly adjusting an earring, listening to him with an enchanting smile.
Their mum was idly smoking a cigarette, her eyes on the dance floor, her mind a million miles away.
Then the young mum wearing the pearls came out from the powder room hallway, and my attention was once again drawn away by an opportunity I simply could not allow myself to pass up.
Out of the corner of my, I saw her approach my bench, her gown flicking pleasingly along her figure.
I reached down and fumbled with my loose strap.
As I heard her approach, I look up and ask her if she could help me fasten my heel strap.
Her pearl necklace was magnificent.
She chirped politely, “Pleased to help you miss…”
Not sounding aloof in the least as she sat her toddler down. The child was adorably dressed in white satin and looked at me with wide-eyed wonder.
As her mum scrunched down I look around. Coast was clear for lift off…
Dipping my left hands' fingers in and locating her now dangling necklace of pearls’ clasp, I easily undo it, then in one motion lift them up and out from around her neck.
Her swinging ropes of pearls are in my purse before she finishes redoing my loose strap and stands up.
I hear the child giggling and I stroke her satiny attire as the mother stood straightening her dress.
She politely twittered “There you go, so happy I could help .”
I smiled back:
“So was I, beautiful child.”
Happily housing up her child, she left, not noticing she was a few pricy kilograms lighter around her throat.
I watched her move safely off, still admiring the way her gown moved. Mulling over in my mind if I could have lifted a diamond tiara that easily?
With those succulent imaginings I eagerly look back over at the table I had been keeping an eye on.
It was empty…!
My potential mark was gone, that quickly. Had the young twins gone out? We’re they with their mum? I was cursing myself. The pearls were a nice haul. But had I let real diamonds slip from my fingers!
I sighed, rising, straightening my dress, and began to move off, thinking to grab a smoke outside to settle my now overly excited nerves.
Then I spotted a young lady attired all in black satin, consisting of a long dress and bolero jacket.
She was sitting alone three tables away from the one where the twins had sat. Two empty cocktail glasses were at her elbow, a half-full one in front of her.
She was smoking the last vestiges of a cigarette. A thin necklace valuably set with a single row of diamonds flickered up around her throat as she blew a wispy stream of smoke. With one hand she brushed back her long wavy hair, exposing an expensive diamond tennis bracelet that blazed up from her wrist as she did.
“She’s trying to attract attention.” I thought, wondering if she had a clue as to whose attention she had just attracted.
I quickly moved in and took the seat next to her.
“Mind if I sit here a few minutes to catch my breath?”
She obviously did mind, but nodded politely, saying nothing, but started looking around.
I could tell she was on the prowl, and by noticing her ring finger was bare, she was available.
I began the conversation.
“Cannot believe how crowded this party is, and the number of men here.”
She nodded, opening her purse and pulling out another cigarette, and holding it up, like a beacon. She smiled at me weakly. Her face had the same sharp moody features of the sultry actress Jean Harlow.
“Yeah, it’s been alright, but a lot of ladies also. Been a struggle finding anyone to dance with. But that’s what I get for coming alone.”
I smiled, pulling out a cigarette myself, along with my round lighter. I reach over with it and say:
“Here allow me.”
I could see in her eyes, that she was disappointed that no male had spotted her and offered to light it. But as my lighter failed to light I saw relief in her eyes and she looked around for a male hero.
It was at this point my free hand reached down to her wrist and neatly flicked open the clasp of her diamond-studded bracelet hanging down loosely from her wrist. Slipping it off her wrist and in my purse before she could blink her long eyelashes twice at a suitable male for which she was desperately searching.
She gave up her vigil, and turned to me saying :
“That’s ok, You need a lighter that works.”
As the girl with the long eyelashes and bare wrists giggled, I replied :
“Oh, it works, sometimes.”
With a sigh, she finally pulled her own lighter out and lit both hers and my, cigarettes.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my tux boy come back, with his sister, slinky gown swirling, in tow. Both giggling over something. It was twinging as it struck me how fetchingly pretty his sister was when she was happy.
And I was equally happy to see her come back.
Instantly my mind turned toward her brother.
If I could just lure him away for a bit. With him out of the way, I should have an open shot at lifting the bloody beautiful necklace his sister was wearing.
I had no real plan yet but figured once the young watchman was out of the picture, I could come up with something on the fly.
My table mate sighed.
“You know, I may just as well blow this joint. Waste of my time getting dressed up tonight.”
I looked away from the lad, back at her, puffing away on her cigarette. An epiphany popped up in my head.
Smashing out my half-smoked cigarette, I opened my purse and from the wad of cash I had taken from my first mark, I peeled off £100 in notes of the realm.
“See that lad over there? Well before you leave it would be worth this…”
I laid the notes on the table
“For you to have a couple of dances with. Him.”
She looked at the pile of cash, speaking.
“Why would you want to pay me this for taking him dancing?”
Her eyes went from the cash on the table to face me with a questioning look, I answered:
“It’s just that his sister, the redhead next to him, had a rather personal question to ask me. And is unable to do so with her brother hovering around.”
I could tell she knew I was lying, her eyes looked over the girl head to toe, then dropped to the designer clutch purse at her elbow.
“Nice purse that.”
She figured that it was her purse I was after. Worth about £400 at a pawn. but she didn’t seem to really care, as neither did I.
Scooping up the notes she put them in her purse, a knock-off designer number.
Smashing out her cigarette, she rose and bid me an uncaring farewell.
I watched as she went up to the table, placed a hand on the lad's shoulder, and said something I was too far away to catch. But he got right up as the lady nodded to his sister, I saw her eyes traveling up and down again, closely drooling over her sumptuous attire.
She then led the lad off.
As I again found myself becoming mesmerized by the shimmering necklace that lay around his sister’s throat, as she was watching her brother being led off.
I shake my head clear, looking away to rationally think.
As I did, my elbow hit something, looking down, I found myself staring at the 1/4 full cocktail glass.
Speaking of plans on the fly.
I picked up the glass and quickly circling, came up from behind to reach my red-headed mark, sitting there with all innocence.
As I passed I said:
“Watch it..”
Then let the drink slip from my hand and land in the silken lap of her gorgeous dark chocolate gown.
She jumped up immediately, and I was ready with my handkerchief.
As I apologized profusely. I Placed one hand on her shoulder and with the other reached down and began sopping up the wet area of her luxurious gown(making sure my fingers reached titillatingly well down along inside her pantyliner to maximize the distraction.
All the while the darling girl was confused, becoming aroused, and apologetic all at the same time.
“It’s ok miss, my fault I’m sure, must have startled you, didn’t I!”
As she spoke, she looked down watching my hand wiping her, long red hair falling into her face, my hand left her quivering shoulder, and locating the clasp of her necklace, flicked it open. Then I pulled it off from around her neck and dropped it neatly into my open purse on the floor.
She pulled her hair up to see, and I grasped her wrist with my now free hand, easily unsnapping her diamond bracelet, where it soon joined its purloined mate inside my purse.
“Do you have a handkerchief luv?”
She nodded her head no. Chandelier Earrings swing out, wickedly flashing their many tiers of pricy diamonds.
“Let’s get you to the washroom and clean you up a bit.”
As she lifted the hem of her wet gown I took her by the scintillating silk gowns covered waist and led her off.
As she was preoccupied with holding and studying her soiled gown, my fingers holding her waist worked over and unhooking her exceptionally valuable diamond brooch, easily lifting it off. Then I curled my fist around it into a ball.
I open the door to the washroom, then as she went in, deposited her brooch in my purse.
I handed her a towel, which she took and began wiping off her slippery wet gown
As she was bending over to clean down her front, her hair kept again falling down over her face.
Here luv, I said taking her soft hair and pulling it back. I laid my fingers cupping her ears. As she was busy wiping off wet spots, I was busy wiping off her ears with a stroking motion. Pulling out her handsomely jeweled earrings in the process.
I stood back, dropping the sparklers inside my purse as I watched her bending over to clean up, her slinky thin gown tightly outlining her figure
As she finished and stood up, I apologized:
“I am so sorry.”
Smiling weakly, she hugged me, saying with her head pressed to my shoulder:
“That’s s ok accidents happen.”
She twittered it pleasantly enough, and I hugged her back.
Pulling away I looked her over.
“Look you missed a spot.”
I lifted her hand and laid it upon the wet area just below her breasts, my fingers tickling. Giggling, she put one hand on my waist for support, and as the other began to wipe her wet spot, I myself wiped off the ring from her slick glove-clad finger.
She was now pretty much cleaned up, and thoroughly cleaned out.
If only she had been wearing that diamond tiara!
I walked back through the exit door as she stayed behind to take care of her business. The excitement, mixed with anguish, made her have to use a stall.
I head off down the hall intending on turning towards the exit once I reach it.
From what had become a habit, I looked towards the red-headed damsel in distress’s table. Brother is not back yet… but…
The wealthy mother, whose glittery diamonds would put a Tiffany’s display case to shame, is back at the table. Gullibly alone. Tiara is glittery like a bloody bright beacon. She is holding an unlit cigarette, a lighter on the table by her purse. She is watching her son on the dance floor.
I said thoughtfully to myself knowing the song was almost through and the lady would be dropping him like a hot potato when it was done:
“In for a penny…”
Licking my lips with expectations, I pull out my round lighter as I walk up to the twin’s richly attired mother…
“May I? “
I lean over as she turned to me, and placed the cigarette in between her red lipstick-covered mouth. Up close, her earrings and tiara flashed into such provoking life it made me blink.
As I clumsily knock her overly expensive purse to the floor with my elbow, I tell her:
“Can never get these bloody things to work.”
Fini
I’m not really wicked, just written that way
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Postscript:
The dance venue in Scotland had a washroom with a linen-covered table stacked with towels.
It was underneath where cleanup found my rhinestone bracelet.
Yes, I had used the wash.
But what if it had gone like this:
An observers viewpoint:
The mum is wearing real diamonds in her earrings. Therefore reasonable to assume her daughter’s bracelet must be real diamonds also, and a young lady is usually the easier pick.
Bracelet is acquired, discovered not to be real, not wishing to be caught with a nicked bracelet of just rhinestone, the evidence is tossed.
I mean really, it could have happened that way?
“Le chat mangerait du poisson, mais ne se mouillerait pas les pieds”
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
the cat would eat fish, but would not wet her feet
Le chat mangerait du poisson, mais ne se mouillerait pas les pieds
The final image of the triptych.
Thank you for your interest. Please do not post spam, irrelevant poetry or prose, or links to your works in the comment section. I will find my own way to your images. All my images are my own original work, under my copyright, with all rights reserved. This means the owner's permission must be sought and obtained, before using any image for ANY purpose.
Copyright infringement is theft.
"The Merchant's House Museum, known formerly as the Old Merchant's House and as the Seabury Tredwell House, is the only nineteenth-century family home in New York City preserved intact—both inside and out. Built "on speculation" in 1832 by Joseph Brewster, a hatter by trade, it is located at 29 East Fourth Street, between Lafayette Street and the Bowery in Manhattan. It became a museum in 1936, founded by George Chapman, a cousin of the family who once lived there.
The House was among the first 20 buildings designated in 1965 under the City's new landmarks law. It is the only historic house museum in the Greenwich Village/Soho/NoHo neighborhoods.
NoHo, short for North of Houston Street (as contrasted with SoHo), is a primarily residential neighborhood in Lower Manhattan in the New York City borough of Manhattan. It is bounded by Mercer Street to the west and the Bowery to the east, and from East 9th Street in the north to East Houston Street in the south.
The New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission has declared most of the 125-building area a historic district, divided into the NoHo Historic District and the NoHo East Historic District, created in 2003.
New York, often called New York City or NYC, is the most populous city in the United States. With a 2020 population of 8,804,190 distributed over 300.46 square miles (778.2 km2), New York City is also the most densely populated major city in the United States. The city is within the southern tip of New York State, and constitutes the geographical and demographic center of both the Northeast megalopolis and the New York metropolitan area – the largest metropolitan area in the world by urban landmass. With over 20.1 million people in its metropolitan statistical area and 23.5 million in its combined statistical area as of 2020, New York is one of the world's most populous megacities, and over 58 million people live within 250 mi (400 km) of the city. New York City is a global cultural, financial, and media center with a significant influence on commerce, health care and life sciences, entertainment, research, technology, education, politics, tourism, dining, art, fashion, and sports. New York is the most photographed city in the world. Home to the headquarters of the United Nations, New York is an important center for international diplomacy, an established safe haven for global investors, and is sometimes described as the capital of the world." - info from Wikipedia.
The fall of 2022 I did my 3rd major cycling tour. I began my adventure in Montreal, Canada and finished in Savannah, GA. This tour took me through the oldest parts of Quebec and the 13 original US states. During this adventure I cycled 7,126 km over the course of 2.5 months and took more than 68,000 photos. As with my previous tours, a major focus was to photograph historic architecture.
Now on Instagram.
The Beatles recorded "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" in March 1967. The song has been recognised as a key work in the psychedelic genre.
It was written primarily by John Lennon and credited to the Lennon–McCartney songwriting partnership. Lennon's son Julian inspired the song with a nursery school drawing that he called "Lucy – in the sky with diamonds". Shortly before the album's release, speculation arose that the first letter of each of the title nouns intentionally spelled "LSD". Lennon repeatedly denied that he had intended it as a drug song. He attributed the song's fantastical imagery to his reading of Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland books.
John Lennon said that his inspiration for the song came when his three-year-old son Julian showed him a nursery school drawing that he called "Lucy – in the Sky with Diamonds", depicting his classmate Lucy O'Donnell. Julian later recalled: "I don't know why I called it that or why it stood out from all my other drawings, but I obviously had an affection for Lucy at that age. I used to show Dad everything I'd built or painted at school, and this one sparked off the idea." Ringo Starr witnessed the moment and said that Julian first uttered the song's title on returning home from nursery school. Lennon later said, "I thought that's beautiful. I immediately wrote a song about it."
According to Lennon, the lyrics were largely derived from the literary style of Lewis Carroll's novel Alice in Wonderland. Lennon had read and admired Carroll's works, and the title of Julian's drawing reminded him of the "Which Dreamed It?" chapter of Through the Looking Glass, in which Alice floats in a "boat beneath a sunny sky". Lennon recalled in a 1980 interview: It was Alice in the boat. She is buying an egg and it turns into Humpty-Dumpty. The woman serving in the shop turns into a sheep and the next minute they are rowing in a rowing boat somewhere and I was visualizing that.
Paul McCartney remembered of the song's composition, "We did the whole thing like an Alice in Wonderland idea, being in a boat on the river ... Every so often it broke off and you saw Lucy in the sky with diamonds all over the sky. This Lucy was God, the Big Figure, the White Rabbit." He later recalled helping Lennon finish the song at Lennon's Kenwood home, specifically claiming he contributed the "newspaper taxis" and "cellophane flowers" lyrics. Lennon's 1968 interview with Rolling Stone magazine confirmed McCartney's contribution.
Rumours of the connection between the title of "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" and the initialism "LSD" began circulating shortly after the release of the Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band LP in June 1967. McCartney gave two interviews in June admitting to having taken the drug. Lennon later said he was surprised at the idea the title was a hidden reference to LSD, countering that the song "wasn't about that at all", and it "was purely unconscious that it came out to be LSD. Until someone pointed it out, I never even thought of it. I mean, who would ever bother to look at initials of a title? ... It's not an acid song."
McCartney confirmed Lennon's claim on several occasions. In 1968 he said: When you write a song and you mean it one way, and someone comes up and says something about it that you didn't think of – you can't deny it. Like "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds," people came up and said, cunningly, "Right, I get it. L-S-D," and it was when [news]papers were talking about LSD, but we never thought about it.
In a 2004 interview with Uncut magazine, McCartney confirmed it was "pretty obvious" drugs did influence some of the group's compositions at that time, including "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds", though he tempered this statement by adding, "It's easy to overestimate the influence of drugs on the Beatles' music." (derived from wikipedia)
Speculation about a royal engagement had been growing in recent months, after Suits star Meghan, 35, was pictured visiting Harry, 32, at Kensington Palace in London, making a public appearance with him during a polo match, and quietly closing her lifestyle blog....
Some time in the summer of July 2010, I got into the hire car, drove for two hours through the Alps and parked not far from the eglise of one of those exquisite hamlets that only seem to exist in France. From the square I looked upwards to the west, clenched my teeth and began the long walk to the top of the Col du Noyer – straight along the middle of the steep mountain road. It was a long while ago and I don’t remember much about the climb, apart from a jovial conversation alongside speculation on exactly how much action the family who’d set up camp at the bottom of a long strait on a hairpin bend would see. That tested my schoolboy French from almost thirty years earlier I can tell you. I also recall strolling past a young and sweaty red skinned man, bearded and wearing an Australian flag as he made his own way up the slope. He couldn't say much as there clearly wasn't enough oxygen available. Apart from these moments, and wondrous Alpine views I saw little. I knew I didn’t have to worry about any traffic coming along towards me either of course, because the road had been closed until later.
You might imagine my dismay on reaching the top of this wild and empty paradise to find a temporary parking area crammed with hundreds of cars. I shuldn't have been surprised really. It seemed they’d all come up from the western side of the mountain to watch the race. Suddenly the silence was filled with a welter of sensory overload, a cacophony that would only increase in volume later as events in the valley below approached. Everywhere I looked, there were flags of all nations, especially Europeans. The Dutch, the Belgians, the Danes, the French of course, and the wildly enthusiastic Basques from Bilbao and San Sebastian were all present in great numbers. I love seeing how events like this bring us together in that great big melting pot.
Watching a bike race from the roadside is quite an unusual sort of experience. Long periods of anticipation are punctuated (in Le Tour at least) by the crazy caravan, a carnival from which bouncing fresh faced youngsters eject enormous volumes of pointless but irresistible merchandise in the direction of the expectant crowds, who dive upon worthless trinkets as if gold nuggets had been rained upon the roadside. I'd say it were unseemly if I hadn't done a little scrabbling in pursuit of mini bags of Haribo and Skoda key rings for myself. For a while there is silence once more as we crane our ears to the west, and then the distant thrum of unseen helicopters in the valley below – a sound that gradually increases in volume until they begin to appear, whirring loudly and still below us, but drawing nearer as they herald the imminent approach of the riders. And then the moment we’ve all been awaiting arrives when the elite cyclists, the best in the world no less, come racing past in the blink of an eye. On that occasion in France the whole lot of them came over the mountain pass together – the moment of magic passing in under one minute. And then we go home – all the way back down the mountain towards the car, past the still sweating Australian and the by now slightly inebriated French family who saw very little as they stoked the barbecue while the cyclists flew past at breakneck pace.
Today, the action was much closer to home as the Tour of Britain started with stage one taking place in our own Cornwall. In comparison to that hot mountain afternoon eleven years earlier, this was a much easier operation to undertake. A five minute drive to the in laws and a stroll down the hill brought us to Falmouth Road in Redruth. We even had a buffet on hand as the blackberries are in season right now and handfuls of them were dangling from a stray bramble at the wall beside us. We waited as increasing numbers of locals dragged themselves from their Sunday rest to watch the cyclists race pass, camera phones primed and ready for the critical moment.
There were quite a few candidates for this post, because with the 70-200mm lens on the camera in burst mode, I got quite excited by the results. If we are friends on Instagram you might have seen some more of the images from the brief moment in which the athletes raced along the long sweep of Falmouth Road. But this one caught my eye, and not just because the world champion, Julian Alaphilippe and two of the greatest sprinters of the last fifteen years, Mark Cavendish and Andre Greipel fill the centre of the shot. It’s the two ladies on the right hand side with their mobile phones that tell the story of how events like this connect everyone, even if only for moments. Where else in top level sport can you enjoy moments like this? Together we all smiled and agreed it had been brief, but fun. And then we went home again.
The scary staircase at Dunino Den.
Theres a lot of speculation about the ancient Den, some say witches used it for demonic rituals, some say its a Druid hangout, others say pagan worship.
Regardless, its a great natural wonder and a great place to explore. Various offerings haunt the site; upon an upturned tree stump, bangles, coins, ribbons and shells are placed as gifts to whatever gods or spirits care to notice.
the one thing that stands out is the amount of coins littering the place!
Theres supposedly a face carved into the rock not unsimilar to the Green Man, but we couldnt find it.
next time perhaps.... if the spirit of the forrest allows!!!
Interstellar matter and dust Banquet of interstellar dust matter and looking at the internal threads of our galaxy somewhere between Centaur Sagittarius and the powerful Scorpio in the constellation Ophiuchus, where the secular horse galloping our imagination inside the stars. The main disc of our galaxy has a diameter of 80,000 to 100,000 light-years, the perimeter 250 to 300 000 light years and a thickness of about 1,000 light years. It consists of 200 up to 400 billion stars. If we define a natural scale and assume that the Milky Way has a diameter of 130 km, the solar system would have a length of 2 mm. The Galactic Halo extends over a diameter of 250,000 and 400,000 light years. As reported extensively in the galaxy structure below, new research has shown that the disk extends much more than we thought until last. Officially, since 2005, the Milky Way is now considered to be a large barred spiral galaxy SBbc type the Hubble sequence (small barred spiral helix) with a total mass of 600 to 3,000 billion solar masses (M☉) [5] [6], comprising from 200 to 400,000,000,000 stars. The galactic disk has an estimated diameter of about 100,000 light years. The distance of the Sun from the center of the galaxy is estimated at 26,000 light years. The disc is protuberant in the center and symperikleietai from the so-called thick disk. The Sun (and thus the Earth and the Solar System) is quite close to the inner ring of the Arm of Orion, local cloud, at 7,94 ± 0,42 kpc from the Galactic Center. The distance between the local arm and immediately nearest, the Perseus Arm, is of the order of 1 · 1019 m (6.500 light years). The Sun and by extension the solar system, located in what scientists call the Galactic Habitable Zone. The direction of the Sun's path (apix or corymb), refers to the direction of the Sun as it travels in the Galaxy. The general direction of galactic motion of the Sun is near the constellation Hercules, at an angle of approximately 86 degrees from the Galactic Center. The orbit of the Sun in the Galaxy is expected to be approximately elliptical with the addition of influences from the galactic arms and uneven mass distribution. We are currently 1/8 of the track before perigalaxio (the shortest distance from the center of the Milky Way). The solar system takes about 225-250000000 years to complete an orbit (one Galactic Year), so speculation has performed approximately 20-25 orbits during its lifetime. The orbital speed of the Solar System is 217 km / sec, ie. One light-year every 1,400 years, and 1 AU in 8 days.
I took this last weekend through (it was way too cold to open it) the window of my cabin in Breckenridge at about 3 am on Valentines day. The stars were just too bright and beautiful to pass up. used my new 50mm 1.4, and stopped down a bit and did about 15min exp. You can see the glow of the town (off to the right in the picture) on the mountain (Mt. Helens).
Feels good to post again, been so busy recently that I haven't even really shot anything worth while in a few weeks, hope you like it.
Contact me if you're interested in my shots (no digital version requests).
abenison@gmail.com
I'm also now on imagekind!
All rights reserved
So, I've just finished watching the Season 3 finale for The Flash, so there will be spoilers ahead. You've been warned.
It was a good finale, though I didn't find it as emotional as the last episode. There were things that have me ideas, and that's what this post is about.
The first idea I had, which won't happen, was that there would be two Barrys for Season 4. I feel like that would've been interesting, like an "Oh, here's how we beat [Blank]." And the character growth would've been cool to see. But he died, so that won't happen.
Savitar name-dropped DeVoe, his second name-drop in this season I believe. Therefore, I think it's safe to assume that DeVoe, or the Thinker, will be the Season 4 Big-Bad. In case you don't know, he's the purple guy in the photo.
Because Barry left, I think Wally may get to wear the suit, which I have mixed feelings about. Another thing was if Jesse was protecting Earth-3 while Jay was away, but Jay's back now, and Harry may be back for good, does that mean both Jesse and Harry will be series regulars next season? I think that'd be cool. Since we're talking about speedsters, I think it's time I mentioned Black Flash. Is he gone for good? Caitlyn froze him, and he crumbles to pieces, but if he could be permanently killed like that why didn't Eobard have Snart do that in Legends? I hope he's still up-and-running (pun intended) because I like the character. But the biggest thing I saw was the storm. In The Flash Rebirth #1, there was a speed-force storm which gave a bunch of citizens the same powers as the Flash. I mentioned this in my Lightning Bug story. I think it'd be cool for them to do that, and have Barry or Wally be thrust into teaching them, although because I've heard lots of things complaint about too many speedsters, and the show-writers aren't making another speedster Big-Bad, I fear it may not happen.
Anyways, those are my ideas/speculations. What are yours? Let me know in the comments. And in case you were wondering, H.R. was totally copied from Max Williams because I think it's a great custom. Thinker is made from Captain Hook's head, LBM Catwoman's cowl, and Magneto's torso. Enjoy, and have a nice day.
With another boat-load of new traction delivered to Kingmoor the knock-on effect on the older DRS traction will become apparent once these new locomotives come into service. There's *rumours* that even more Class 68s are going to be ordered and there's *anticipated speculation* that DRS will be making Class 37/4s available for sale once surplus to requirements.
37419 tnt 37688 1Q14 at Manchester Piccadilly 28/09/2013
L'acqua è un bene di tutti ma oggi è stato deciso dal nostro governo, di fare gestire gli acquedotti da società private e nel giro di 15 anni solo 3 grandi multinazionali avranno il controllo del 65% del mercato a livello mondiale.
La risoluzione europea sulla liberalizzazione dei servizi pubblici non prevede tutto questo esattamente perchè l'acqua è un bene di TUTTI e, come tale, non può e non deve essere fonte di speculazioni e di profitti che non proteggono di sicuro la salute e la vita della gente.
Il governo dichiara che solo i privati possono investire forti cifre di denaro per ammodernare la rete idrica ma sappiamo tutti che il privato mira solo al guadagno e non ha certamente scopi umanitari.
L'esperienza di questi anni di privatizzazione dei servizi ha chiaramente mostrato cosa significhi, quindi, dobbiamo domandarci: a cosa siamo condannati? A che cosa stiamo andando incontro?
Quanto ci costerà bere? Come sarà possibile coltivare? Quanto ci costerà comprare il prodotto al consumo?
Ribelliamoci a questo abuso, alziamo la testa e diciamo NO a tutto questo prima che sia troppo tardi.
FIRMA LA PETIZIONE
----------
L'acqua è un diritto non una merce
---------
Water is a good of everyone, but today it has been decided by our government, to make manage the aqueducts from private companies and within the next 15 years only 3 big multinationals will have the control of 65% of the market at world level.
The European resolution on liberalisation of public services, does not provide all this, exactly because the water is a good for all and, as such, cannot and must not be a source of speculations and profits that do not protect,of course,the health and life of the people.
The Government declares that only the private companies can invest strong figures of money to modernize the water network but we all know that the private is meant only to gain and has surely not for humanitarian purposes.
The experience of these years of privatization of the services has clearly shown what it mean, therefore must we ask to us, how are we condamned? What are we running into?
How much will it cost us to drink? As will be possible to cultivate? How much will it cost to us to buy the products to the consumption?
We rebel to this abuse, we lift the head and we say NO to everything this before is too late.
Following much recent speculation about the firm's future, and an emergency council meeting on Wednesday, the end came on Friday 24 January for Halton Borough Transport. I happened to be in Liverpool for a short while on Tuesday, and took a shot of one of the fleet's former Metrobus Scanias, not expecting it to be the final time I saw one of them in service. Although I made a couple of trips over to Widnes for the final two days of operation, none of these Scanias turned out on normal service while I was there.
B.L.A.D.E was hired by the MOD in the 2020's for a "Classified" reason. Speculations have been made towards the MOD's actions, Many believe it was due to the UK armed forces being spread too thinly out around the Globe fighting alongside old enemies. B.L.A.D.E's technology was created, invested in and produced by one company which made its millions producing a new greener, cleaner energy source;
"The Thoreum Energy Plants".
These Thoreum Plants now power every house, every vehicle and even your average mobile device.
_______________________________________________________________________________
Troop count total = 25 Personell
- 6 Standard Troopers
- 11 Specialists
- 3 Drivers/engineers
- 5 Elites
- 1 Battle mech (Hopefully more sometime soon)
_______________________________________________________________________________
So here it is my up to date faction. Yes I know the Clone torso's are not brilliant, However I do have an Ideal torso in mind, These. But I'm not made of money so it could be a while before I buy them.
Im also thinking about turning my APC's into Tanks, and making another one :3
Speculation: He needed to make a call, but couldn't dial with gloves. So he took off his boot to use his toes. Then he saw there was no phone and ... oh never mind. White Cloud, Kansas.
Cyber Punk.
Sensations invidives métaphysique goûts belles confessions secrets individuels enregistrement d'études mortes spéculations aiguës,
unverständliche kehlen entzückende schrecken unfreiwillige regeln ziehen schimpfen komponieren fallen bequemes herz,
improving profunditatem litterarum lectionibus syllabub investigationum summa celebrabantur papers scriptis agnoscere funda iecit,
висячие инструкции стучать собаками общие повествования несчастья повышенные покровительственные тоны междометной субъективности,
infernalni vidici torta psiha domišljatost ljubaznost stalna razmišljanja vrištanja gradske zbrke misli,
ανυψώνει αναμνήσεις ενοχλητικός χορός πολύτιμες εκφράσεις έξυπνες φράσεις αιχμηρά αυτιά μελωδική μουσική θλιμμένη κορυφή,
entuziasmuri momente care supraveghează ceasuri deschideri de oțel discursuri nejustificate altercații cuvinte,
残酷な機械は、贅沢な組成物に圧力をかけ、談話の無邪気な目が熱い夕食を自慢していると宣言する!
Steve.D.Hammond.
The medieval name of Pfoerring was "Faringa". The german word "Faehre" (= ferry) may be used here, as this was an important place, to cross over the river Danube in that times. Even Charlemagne cross the Danube here with his troops, before he punished his renegade cousin Tassilo III, Duke of Bavaria.
The eastern part of St. Leonhartd including the two (renovated) towers were built 1180/1200.
There is a speculation, that Pfoerringen may be the place, where Hagen slew the local ferryman, when he refused to support the Burgundians on their way to the palace of Etzel, Kriemhilds second husband. The Nibelungenlied tells this story - and in case Pfoerringen is the place mentioned, this carving from the apse may be a portray of Hagen. That may be a little too much speculation, as it was carved about 700 years after Hagen´s evil deed.
Demonstration against property speculation. The rap music wasn't great, but the energy was. OranienStrasse, Berlin.
37424 (or 37558) 'Avro Vulcan XH558' heads north over Ravenglass Viaduct with the 14.37 Barrow-in-Furness - Carlisle on Thurs 28th December 2017.
Quite a lot of speculation at the moment about the 37's being replaced on these services by top & tailed 68's at some stage, maybe sooner rather than later......
Ontario’s Ministry of Natural Resources (MNR) operates this de Havilland Beaver out of their Smoke Lake base in Algonquin Park. The plane is used for search and rescue and to move Algonquin’s park rangers to and from remote camp sites in the park’s vast interior.
“The De Havilland Beaver is an icon of Canada’s bush country, and was purpose-built in Canada for operation in rugged and remote areas. Their practical durability has earned them acceptance in some 60 countries around the globe. More Beavers were built in Canada than any other aircraft, and in 1987, the Canadian Engineering Centennial Board named the DHC-2 Beaver as one of Canada's ten most important engineering achievements in the 20th century.
The Beaver, a reliable, single-engine monoplane, is known for its short take-off and landing capability, even with a full payload. It can be fitted with wheels, skis or floats. The plane was in production from 1948 until 1967 and 1,657 Beavers were manufactured. Although the Beaver is currently out-of-production, hundreds of these aircraft are still in daily use.
The prototype DHC-2 Beaver was tested in flight by Canadian WW II flying Ace Russell Bannock (1919 - ) in Downsview, Ontario in August of 1947. With a nodding approval, the very first production Beaver was delivered to the Ontario Department of Lands and Forests (presently Ministry of Natural Resources and Forests) in April of 1948.
Production soon increased when orders came in from the U.S. Army as the tough little Beaver found use in the Korea and Vietnam conflicts. The U.S. Military ordered over 960 units and designated the plane as the L-20A and U-6A.
In Canada, bush pilots appreciated the large loading doors, powerful 450 horsepower Pratt and Whitney rotary engine, STOL capabilities on land, snow or water and the unique engine oiling system that could be serviced while in flight. Many pilots will tell you that the best thing about the Beaver is the refueling port which is located under the wing of the plane offering shelter to pilots refueling during inclement weather.
Viking Air, located in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada manufactures replacement parts and in 2006 acquired the exclusive right to manufacture new Beavers. There is speculation that production of the DHC-2 Beaver may restart.
Today, a Beaver that originally sold in the 1950s for under US $50,000 can now be seen for sale at prices reaching $500,000 USD.”
Sources:
inlandair.bc.ca/aircraft-fleet/de-havilland-beaver/
www.northernontario.travel/algoma-country/the-dhc-d-beave...
Happy 17th Birthday to the girls with a passion for fashion!
After much speculation, I can finally & officially confirm some HUGE news with you guys that I have had to keep under wraps for quite some time. I have partnered with toy company MGA Entertainment to design an exclusive collection of #BRATZ Collector dolls to be released in Fall 2018!! 😭❤️
I’ve been a huge Bratz fan since their debut in 2001, so this is something I have wanted to do since I was a kid, and I am beyond excited that it’s now come to fruition! A true dream come true!!!
I went to L.A last year to work on the project & was hands on with every detail. Having creative freedom on every single detail including designing their outfits, choosing fabrics, hair colours, accessories, make-up & more. We want to make sure these dolls are perfect, and appreciate your continued patience and support. I promise it’ll be worth the wait!! My goal was to focus on giving Bratz fans the sassy, cutting edge & fashion forward dolls we grew up with, but with fresh & modern styling that brings the dolls into 2018 & beyond!
I have to say a huge thank you to the CEO of MGAE, Isaac Larian who believed in my vision & who made this partnership a reality. I can't wait for everyone to see the dolls & hope you will all be proud & go support them 💋 #BratzXHaydenWilliams #BratzCollector #BratzDolls #Bratz2018 #PassionForFashion
Lataif-e-sitta (Persian: لطائف سته) or al-Laṭaʾif as-Sitta (Arabic: اللطائف الستة), meaning "The Six Subtleties", are psychospiritual "organs" or, sometimes, faculties of sensory and suprasensory perception in Sufi psychology, and are explained here according to the usage amongst certain Sufi groups (key terms in this article are taken from the Urdu, rather than the original Arabic). These six subtleties are thought to be parts of the self in a similar manner to the way glands and organs are part of the body. Drawing from the Qur'an, many Sufis distinguish Nafs, Qalb, Sirr, Ruh, Khafi, and Akhfa as the six laṭaʾif.
Similar concepts in other spiritual systems include the Dantian mentioned in traditional Chinese medicine, martial arts and meditation, the sephiroth of kabbalah and the chakras of Indian Tantra and Kundalini yoga.
Among Sufis spiritual development involves awakening centers of perception that lie dormant in every person. The help of a guide is considered necessary to help activate them in a certain order. Each center is associated with a particular color, a general area of the body, and often with a particular prophet. Activation of all these "centers" is part of the inner methodology of the Sufi way or "Work". Purification of the elementary passionate nature (tazkiyat an-nafs), cleansing the spiritual heart (tazkiyat al-qalb), becoming a receptacle of divine love (ishq), illumination of the spirit (tajjali ar-ruh), emptying egocentric drives (taqliyyat as-sirr) and remembering the divine attributes, often through repetition of the names of God, (dhikr) are a process by which the dervish is said to reach a certain type of "completion" in the opening of the last two faculties, khafi and akhfa.
According to some, this latifa is located slightly below the navel, and is yellow, for others, it is between the eyebrows and is blue.
The word nafs is usually translated as self or psyche. Its etymology is rooted in "breath" (similar to Biblical or Kabbalistic nefesh) and is common to virtually all archaic psychologies where the act of breathing was connected with life, animating otherwise lifeless object. In this respect, ancient notions of "Prana" in Hinduism, Greek "pneuma", Latin "spiritus" or Hebrew "Ruach" -all equate the basic visible process of breathing with energizing principle that confers existence to an individual human being. Some Sufis consider under the term "Nafs" the entirety of psychological processes, encompassing whole mental, emotional and volitional life; however, the majority of Quranic-based Sufis are of the opinion that Nafs is a "lower", egotistical and passionate human nature which, along with Tab (literally, physical nature), comprises vegetative and animal aspects of human life. Ego may be assumed as an equivalent for Nafs in modern psychology. The central aim of the Sufi path is transformation of Nafs (technical term is tazkīyyat an-nafs or "purging of the soul") from its deplorable state of ego-centredness through various psycho-spiritual stages to the purity and submission to the will of God. Although the majority of the Sufi orders have adopted convenient 7 maqāms (maqāms are permanent stages on the voyage towards spiritual transformation), and some still operate with 3 stages, the picture is clear: the Sufi's journey begins with an-nafs al-ʾammārah (commanding soul), an-nafs al-luwwāmah (self-accusing soul), and ends in an-nafs al-muṭmaʾinnah (satisfied soul) - although some Sufis's final stage is, in their technical vocabulary, an-nafs aṣ-ṣāfīyah wa-al-kāmilah (soul restful and perfected). In essence, this is almost identical to Christian paradigm of "vita purgativa" and various stages the spiritual aspirant traverses in the journey towards .
Qalb. According to some, this latifa is located in the left of Chest and is yellow, for others it is red. In it man witnesses his deeds. By awakening it man also gets the knowledge of the realm of Jins.The word Qalb, stands for heart. In Sufi terminology, this spiritual heart (not to be confused with the blood pumping organ) is again variously described. For some, it is the seat of beatific vision. Others consider it the gate of Ishq or Divine love. Yet, for the majority, it is the battleground of two warring armies: those of Nafs and Ruh or spirit. Here, one again encounters terminological confusion: for the Sufis influenced by Neoplatonism, a "higher" part of Nafs is equated to the Aql or intellect (called Nafs-I-Natiqa) or "rational soul" and is the central active agent in spiritual battle: Ruh or spirit, notwithstanding its name, is rather passive in this stage. In short, cleansing of the Qalb or heart is a necessary spiritual discipline for travellers on the Sufi path. The term for this process is Tazkiah-I-Qalb and the aim is the erasure of everything that stands in the way of purifying God's love or Ishq.
Often people take their heart's word (inner feeling) as truthful. If the hearts were indeed truthful, then why are not all the people of the heart united? Qalb of the common folk is in a sleeping or unconscious state, and does not possess any awareness or correct understanding. This heart can err in judgement due to the dominance of the Self and Khannas (the Whisperer), or due to the person's own simple-mindedness. Placing trust in a sleeping (or unconscious) heart is foolish. When the Name Allah does vibrate in the heart, an awareness of Right and Wrong, and understanding follows. It is then called Qalb-e Salim (the sound Heart). Then the prominence of the meditation by Qalb changes its direction towards God; it is called Qalb-e Minib (the repentant Heart). This heart can prevent a person from mischief, but it can not make a right judgement. When the theophanies (Tajalliyat) of God begin to fall on the Heart, it is called Qalb-eshahid(the witnessing Heart).
A leading Indian artist, Geeta Vadhera, has titled her 37th exhibition of paintings as Qalb Qudrat - At the Heart of Nature.
Ruh
According to some, this latifa is located in the right side of the chest and is red, for others it is green. After its activation the human gets acquainted with Alam-e-Aaraf (the place where man resides after death).This is on the right side of the chest. This is awakened and illuminated by the meditation and one-pointed concentration on it. Once it becomes illuminated, a vibration similar to the heartbeat is felt on the right side of the chest. Then the Name of God, Ya Allah is matched with the vibrating pulse. The meditation of the soul is done in this way. This is an advancement in rank and status and is better than the Qalb. It is able to travel to the realm of the souls (the station of the Archangel Gabriel). Anger and rage are attached to it that burn and turn into majesty. Ruh or spirit is the second contender in the battle for human life. Again, opinions on Ruh differ among Sufis. Some deem it coeternal with God; others consider it a created entity. Be that as it may, Ruh is the plateau of consensus for the majority of Sufis, especially the early ones (before 11th/12th century C.E.). For those Sufis with Gnostic leanings (which can be found in Bektashi or Mevlevi orders), Ruh is a soul-spark, immortal entity and transegoic "true self", similar to the Christian concepts of "synteresis" or "Imago Dei", or Vedantist notion of "jiva", as well as Tibetan Buddhist "shes-pa", principle of consciousness and Taoist "shen" or spirit. But, the majority of the Sufis would consider this an unnecessarily extravagant speculation and would stick to the more orthodox notion of dormant spiritual faculty that needs to be worked upon by constant vigil and prayer in order to achieve the Tajliyya-I-Ruh, or Illumination of the spirit. Ironically, this spiritual faculty is frequently referred to in terms one encounters in connection with Nafs- "blind" life force or life current that needs to be purified by strict religious observances in order to achieve illumination.
Sirr
Sirr is located in the solar plexus and is associated with the color white. It records the orders of Allah for the individual in similitude to that which is originally present in Loh-e-mehfooz (Preserved Scripturum). After its activation, human being gets acquainted with Aalam-e-Misal (The Allegorical realm - Reflection of knowledge of the preserved Scripturum.) This center is associated with consciousness. This is also awakened and illuminated by the meditation and one-pointed concentration on it with the Name of God, Ya Hayy, Ya Qayyum. The dream state or by spiritual separation from the physical body “transcendental meditation” it can journey to the realm of the secrets.
Sirr, literally means "the secret". Emptying of the Sirr (Taqliyya-I-Sirr) is basically focusing on God's names and attributes in perpetual remembrance or Dhikr, hence diverting one's attention from the mundane aspects of human life and fixing it on the spiritual realm. The "emptying" signifies negation and obliteration of ego-centred human propensities.
Khafi. According to some, it is located in the middle of the forehead (between the eyes or third eye position) and is black, to others blue. It's the equivalent of Kitab-e-Marqoom (the written book). According to others this is to the right of the centre of the chest. It too is taught the Name of God Ya Wahid by meditation. It is green in colour and it can reach the realm of unification. The term Khafi means mysterious, arcane or Latent Subtlety. It represents intuition.
Akhfa
The term Akhfa or ikhfa means most arcane, deeply mysterious, or obscure, subtlety. Its location is deep inside the brain or on center-top of the head. The color of this center, according to some, is green, to others, violet. It's the Nuqta-e-wahida (point of unity) in every human where the Tajalliat (beatific visions) of Allah are directly revealed. It contains information about the hidden knowledge of the universe. By entering into this point, the human being enters the system of the universe and laws governing the universe. This center is associated with deep perception.
According to some this is situated at the centre of the chest. It is awakened by meditating on the Name of God, Ya Ahad. It is purple in colour and it too, is connected to that veil in the realm of unification behind which is the throne of God.
The last center or subtlety is "accessible only to those who have developed the others, and belongs to the real sage." (see "The Sufis" by Idries Shah).
Three Souls
Qalb and Nafs form the "Rooh-e-haivani" (Animal Soul). This part of the soul has the record of every activity of life. It is also termed as Joviya (Confluence).
Sirr and Rooh form "Rooh-e-Insani (Human soul) or Ayan. This part of the soul is inscribed with commands characterizing the life. It is also termed as Ayan. When a human being gets acquainted with it, he can witness the record and scheme of "all that exists", written on loh-e-mahfooz.
Akhfa and khafa form "Rooh-e-azam" (the great soul), also called sabita. It is a bright ring of light in which all the information pertaining to the unseen and seen cosmos is inscribed.
"Great Soul", "Human Soul", and "Animal Soul" are actually levels of functioning of the same soul and are not three different souls. These three components are like three rings of light infused in one another and are collectively called the soul, the indivisible entity, the Lord's edict, or simply the man. Man gets acquainted with them one by one by Muraqaba ( Sufi Meditation), Dhikr (Remembrance of God) and purification of one's psyche/life from negative thinking patterns (fear, depression), negative emotions (hate, contempt, anger, lust) and negative practices (hurting others psychologically or physically). Loving God and loving/helping every human being irrespective of his race, religion, or nationality, and without consideration for any possible reward, is the key to ascension according to Sufis.
The Attributes of God that have been transferred to the existents and have become parts of the mechanism of the universe are collectively known as the Incumbent Knowledge (Ilm-e-wajib). Knowledge of the Incumbent means knowledge that has been transferred to the existents, that is, it refers to those Attributes of God with which existents enjoy affinity and correlation. The Knowledge of the Incumbent is also known as the Knowledge of the Pen (Ilm-e-Qalum).
First Descent is that state when God exhibited the program present in His Mind as He Willed. The creative formulae of the cosmos are the secrets of the First Descent. Why did God opt to create the universe and what is the Will of God, which He intends to accomplish? Reflection of all these things is found in the Great Soul; The Firmly Affixed Inscription. One side of Great Soul is the Obscure Subtlety (akhfa) and the other side is the Latent Subtlety (khafi) Great Soul is the storehouse of eleven thousand beatific visions of God. The person who attains communion with these two subtleties can observe these visions. These two subtleties of akhfa and khafi are found in every human being irrespective of who he is, what he is, or his station in life.
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A Flower Will Grow and Grow
A poem by Peter S. Quinn
A flower will grow and grow
And give every petals show
Of love colors up and close
In shades that to summer flows
Of every nature's true choice
Is given much speculation
With every tincture’s rejoice
In its step by step gradation
Their moments are never lost
They give of their pleasure’s glow
Of foliage green to yellow rust
As season in its moment's go
Like blue sky in dreams high
Following new twilight's dawn
Where every our fortunate lie
To carry our good judgment on
A life is like a flower of living
Growing its leaves from steam
Every its laudable there giving
Both of reality and of its dream