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“The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far. The sciences, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the light into the peace and safety of a new dark age.”
― H.P. Lovecraft
Taken at the Contraption Team's Fantasy Faire region, Bassett Town. That was the SKY y'all...
Memorable. Amazing. Creepy af.
(Bassett Town Forever)
Reminds me of the film 'The Andromeda Strain' here at Bank Station walking from the Central Line to connect with the Docklands Light Railway
Something I was going to use for Macro Mondays 'Wire' theme but didn't get the time to finish before now.
"Drift Away"
-Dobie Gray-
Day after day I'm more confused
Yet I look for the light through the pouring rain
You know that's a game that I hate to lose
And I'm feelin' the strain
Ain't it a shame
Oh, give me the beat boys and free my soul
I wanna get lost in your rock and roll and drift away
Oh, give me the beat boys and free my soul
I wanna get lost in your rock and roll and drift away
Beginning to think that I'm wastin' time
I don't understand the things I do
The world outside looks so unkind
And I'm countin' on you
To carry me through
Oh, give me the beat boys and free my soul
I wanna get lost in your rock and roll and drift away
Yeah, give me the beat boys and free my soul
I wanna get lost in your rock and roll and drift away
And when my mind is free
You know a melody can move me
And when I'm feelin' blue
The guitar's comin' through to soothe me
Thanks for the joy that you've given me
I want you to know I believe in your song
And rhythm and rhyme and harmony
You've helped me along
Makin' me strong
Oh, give me the beat boys and free my soul
I wanna get lost in your rock and roll and drift away
Give me the beat boys and free my soul
I wanna get lost in your rock and roll and drift away
Oh, give me the beat boys and free my soul
I wanna get lost in your rock and roll and drift away
Hey, give me the beat boys and free my soul
I wanna get lost in your rock and roll and drift away
Na na na, won't you, won't you take me
Oh, take me
"Take the strain" is an idiom that generally means to bear the burden or responsibility for something, often a difficult or stressful situation. It implies relieving someone else of pressure or worry by taking on the challenge yourself.
What's the difference between a rope and a cable?
The term cable is often used interchangeably with wire rope. However, in general, wire rope refers to diameters larger than 3/8 inch.
Sizes smaller than this are designated as cable or cords. Two or more wires concentrically laid around a centre wire is called a strand.
Beer, Devon, UK.
“Oh no here we go again. He’s finally lost it. Three shots already uploaded from that infernal ridge walk and yet he still manages to find another one to rattle on about!” is what you might be thinking. I’m starting to have the same thoughts myself. It doesn’t help that I’ve done so little photography since that adventure. Ok so there’s a van related wild camp caper on Dartmoor the week before last to report tales of yet to come, but I’m still to work those raw files into shape. The thing is, that afternoon on the high ground of the Brecon Beacons in South Wales brought one composition after another as the landscape gradually revealed new secrets with each phase of the trek. All of them taken with a lens that really deserves a bit more love in return for its efforts. This one brought the peaks of Fan y Big, Cribyn, Pen y Fan and Corn Du into a single frame, with an illuminated bonus foreground designed by the icy architects of this landscape to offset the four dark shrouds behind.
Like so many of us I started out with a modest assembly of tools for my induction into this world that we share. A midrange camera, a couple of reasonably price lenses sourced from your favourite auction site, a cheap tripod, an even cheaper bag and some very inexpensive filters that would be better suited as coasters for tea cups. And then I got carried away – a sorry tale of obsession, a descent of the senses so steep as to be matched only by the plummeting bank balance as a full frame camera and professional lenses were added to the bag, itself replaced by a new model of course. The cheap filters gave way to the same set that Nigel Danson swears by, and then of course a carbon fibre tripod was a must wasn’t it? Not long ago I looked at the collection, did some mental arithmetic, and decided it was best not to mention the final score to my better half, who has far more modest tastes. A new pair of knitting needles is as racy as she gets when it comes to freeing up budget for luxuries. When people take her to task on her innate sense of thrift, with metronomic consistency she replies with “how do you think I managed to retire in my fifties on what I was earning?” She has a point. You become so much wealthier by desiring less in life.
But in that bagful of precious things lies the lens that so often gets overlooked – only really brought into use at moments when lugging the others around is going to prove challenging. I think of it as my adventuring lens. After all I’d have needed a team of sherpas to roll my 100-400mm lens up the first slope of Fan y Big on a series of felled tree trunks if I’d wanted to take it with me. So for long arduous treks, the lightweight lens with the huge focal length gets its day in the sun; and the rain too for that matter. I used it a lot that day as you may already be aware from a surfeit of previous posts. When I uploaded the raw files from the hike onto my computer at home my first reaction was one of enormous disappointment – so many of them were fuzzy and grainy and I found myself heading down the familiarly dangerous route of eBay as I blamed the lens once more for its inadequacies, while stubbornly ignoring my own shortcomings. Misplaced vainglory is such an unattractive web in which to entangle oneself.
Eventually, after much soul searching and further experimenting at 300mm on the tripod in my living room I concluded that the maligned lens was entirely free of blame – it was me who was at fault. I resolved to learn to use it properly and stop poring over alternatives on the internet each time I fail. In fact it went to Dartmoor with me so you’ll be able to judge for yourself which one of us has performance issues to come to terms with in due course. I think we both know already it’s me and not the lens.
I’m sitting at my laptop in the aforementioned van, where the strains of the annual music festival that take place on the estate across the road from us are drifting across the trees towards me on the gentlest of summer evening breaths. It might be Razorlight; it might be Goldie Looking Chain I can hear, but this year the neighbours don’t appear to have been invited to the party in atonement for the interruption to our weekend peace so I’ve really no idea. I’ve moved on from indignation to indifference now. We didn’t really want to go anyway. At least it’s nearly over and it’s Bank Holiday Monday tomorrow with its stay of execution from the real world for one more day.
This might be the last image I post from that ridge walk, but the trouble is there’s at least one more of them jumping up and down in the shadows waving its arms about if I can drag another tale out of the adventure. For now I’ll work harder at familiarising myself with that lens.
High strain rate tensile test 2000 s-1. Duration 180 microseconds. Frame rate 2 Million fps (Camera: Specialized Imaging Kirana)
SSC - Macro
This is a shot of a Hellebore that is currently growing in a pot in my garden, the flower was picked and shot indoors as there was a brisk breeze blowing.
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The daylight had just begun to strain through the cracks in the dark brooding sky, a bitter north wind blew with a familiar fall chill that sent icy little darts of frozen rain drops pinging against my jacket and face; making me flinch. There wasn't another sound amidst the silence save the rustle of the wind in the trees. All was still except the occasional leaf or two that would blow by only to be lost in the dark shadows of the waning night.
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© NICK MUNROE (MUNROE PHOTOGRAPHY)
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MoPac 800 (SD40-2) eastbound @ Kirkwood, Mo. while passing the National Museum of Transport. (740111)*
Ektachrome by Jim Strain
The Dutch tug ISA, towing the Ugland UR3 barge off Cromer.
For the last 24hrs. she has been back and forth between Cromer and Sheringham at around 2 knots, probably waiting for the wind and seas to improve before continuing on it's haul to Holland.
The barge, owned by the Norwegian Co.Ugland was built in 1995 at the Sevmash yard, Severodvinsk, Russia.
91.4 mtrs long, and 27.4 mtrs. wide.
MP15DC's 251 & 252 (the 253 is a former Alco S2 #208 rebuilt by MK), eastbound on the MacArthur Bridge in St Louis, Mo, Note the trainman in 253 waving his hat. (800130)*
Kodachrome by Jim Strain
This week's Macro Mondays effort, on the theme of 'Mesh',brings us a close up of what I call a tea strainer, but since the advent of teabags is now probably just known as a small sieve, Anyhoo, HMM y'all!
This is my first attempt at editing something since my eye surgery.
I miss it and even though this is usually something quick and simple for me, it still took half the day. It's frustrating 😭
The constant breaks and the strain on my eyes for details are holding me back, but I'm still trying so that I can finally finish my post for Somnium SL that I started before the surgery.
Until then, I hope you like my look and I'm happy if one or the other wears it 😃
Link in the comments for a better view
Covered in verdigris and rusty, one wonders how much longer this link in the chain will last - even though it is quite thick.
In celebration of man's modern achievement. During Earth Hour 2009, I turned on every light in my house. Both of my cars are idle. A ball of 6 strains of 100 professional outdoor Christmas lights hooked together with 6 balls of 100 lights each surrounding it. To top it off, a 600 watt halogen light pointing at the front door.
Sorry, it isn't as good as I want. I should have exposed another .5 or 1 stop.
It had been a stunning day she reflected as she pushed her bare legs down into the sleeping bag. It felt loose and fairly cool compared to the warmth of the evening outside. Slowly she stretched down the bag, tired limbs luxuriating as she got comfortable within the bedding.
Yes, they had walked all day up Glen Creran in the valleys behind Glencoe until they found the little Fairy Bridge. www.traveling-savage.com/2015/09/09/finding-fairy-bridge-...
Now the LandRover was parked on the water's edge of Loch Etive with another stunning outlook and backdrop, as the sun edged towards the horizon. Their Ventura Expedition tent was erected on the platform above the Landrover Defender roof, cosy and safe high above the ground. Miraculously it seemed to be midge free although she barely dared think it in case her thought tempted fate. It was so silent there.
She listened for a sound. The distant cry of a gull, over by the old jetty, then a slight scrape on the pebble beach below. Closer. She cocked an ear straining her senses to hear. Then there was another scraping sound, a pebble tripping over another.
Suddenly she felt the whole tent sway. Something was pushing the Landrover on its suspension. Then a faint vibration. She tensed. Was something coming up the aluminium ladder at the back?
Then she heard it. A low growl. Deep and throaty. Bear? It sounded big. A slight snorting sound, heavy breathing, and then the rumbling, throaty low growl again at the base of the ladder to her sleeping quarters. She sensed the platform tilt slightly as some weight came on the ladder. And she heard the growl again. Louder now. And much closer. It was coming up to her.
Finally she had had enough, and just wanted to sleep. Firmly she called out, "Stop messing about Michael, and get in bed!"
Ruined his fun that night that did.
Raccontami una storia
e se ci riesci stancami.
"Toccami e guardami a fondo
non lasciarmi mai
ti guardo negli occhi mentre te ne vai..."