View allAll Photos Tagged stutter
Last night I finally got brave and asked. And.. she said yes after a long, stuttered question down at the old rose ruins at our home 😃
Ethereal song rings through breeding grounds in northern spruce forest; found in thickets and forest understory during migration, when it tends to be shy and hard to find. To distinguish from other Catharus thrushes, note very faint eyering and plain gray face. Small bill with yellow base. Grayer face than Swainson's Thrush and lacks buffy eyering. Nearly identical to Bicknell's Thrush, which shows slight reddish wash to plumage. Song is a stuttering series of descending phrases with a notably wiry tone. Call a high-pitched, piercing "pzeeer."
Gros Morne National Park, Newfoundland and Labrador, Canada. July 2011.
Here is an uncluttered male Yellowhammer that I photographed locally this week. They are just starting to sing and this was one of the first bird songs that I learnt as a child. It is usually rendered "a little bit of bread and no cheese" but only the cheese bit chimes with me. It was Enid Blyton who supposedly popularised this rendition of the song in several of her books and poems (eg The Yellowhammer Bird in Enid Blyton's Nature Lover's Handbook 1944). But Beatrix Potter mentioned a bird singing this ditty in 1911, more than 30 years before Enid Blyton (in The Tale of Timmy Tiptoes). I have noticed that Yellowhammers sing their songs at two speeds rather like Reed Buntings. There are definitely singers with fast and slow stutters prior to the terminal cheese, which remains the same. In Reed Buntings the fast singers are unpaired males eager to impress and I would guess that the fast singing Yellowhammers are similarly unpaired. This is another seriously depleted farmland bird that has been on the red list since 2002 because of a more than 50% decline in population. It usually needs arable (preferably spring-sown) and herb-rich pasture in close proximity. But specialisation in farming means these two habitats don't occur together very often. But it sometimes can survive where frequently disturbed ground (eg through cattle poaching or farm vehicles) allows arable "weeds" to grow.
Rufus-crowned Tody-Flycatcher, (Poecilotriccus ruficeps) seen in the Andes of Colombia
Tiny, plump flycatcher found in the understory of the subtropical zone in the Andes, especially around bamboo. Distinctive plumage with yellow belly, white throat, rufous crown, black border around cheek, and bold yellow wingbars. Some populations show rufous wash on cheeks and a reduced black border. Sexes similar. Usually seen in singles or pairs, inconspicuously flitting around the understory of forest and edge. Listen for stuttering calls.
“Here, now, and that is all.
Enough for intimate reflection.
Neither arrowhead nor knife’s edge,
I cannot seek nor bless perfection.
Outside, the air is fledged with bluffing,
And life will press and burst the husk.
But until the sunflowers bow their heads
and fall, there is
Here, now, and that is all.”
—George Angel
www.modernliterature.org/2017/12/01/stuttered-budding-six...
Send me away
I'm here on my own
Hammer, stutter now
Lets rock, lets roll now
She says I'm obsessed
I say I'm in love
You've done it now
Now send me a way out
I feel insecure
And Desperate
Wahrscheinlich hatte es beim Anlaufen am Morgen etwas gestockt und gerattert, ein paar seltsame Geräusche. Dann hatten die Räder der komplexen Anlage stillgestanden. Es hatte einen Knall und eine Stichflamme gegeben. Innerhalb von Minuten hatte rund ein Drittel der Produktionsstätte aufgehört zu existieren. Mit dem Rest war auch nicht mehr wirklich viel anzufangen gewesen. Genauso wie geplant.
Er war sich gar nicht ganz sicher gewesen, ob er die Stelle wirklich wiederfinden würde. Als er nun aber auf das rostige und moosbewachsene Zahnrad blickte, das da aus dem Gras ragte, wusste er, dass er am Ziel war. Nach so vielen Jahren hatte er sich entscheiden, noch einmal herzukommen, um endgültig abschliessen zu können. Abschliessen mit einem Projekt, dem er über einige Jahre mit Eifer gedient hatte. Abschliessen mit einem Projekt und einem Leben.
Irgendwann waren die Zweifel gekommen, die nicht wieder verstummen mochten. Sie waren im Gegenteil immer lauter und bohrender geworden, hatten sich schliesslich zu einer einsamen Gewissheit verdichtet: Dieser Krieg, zu dessen Fortgang er beitrug, musste zu Ende gehen. Und zwar durch eine Niederlage.
Nachdem das einmal feststand, war alles Weitere eigentlich nicht schwer gewesen, lediglich eine Frage der detaillierten und sorgfältigen Planung. Er wusste, wie man in der Anlage mit wenig Aufwand eine geradezu verheerende Wirkungskette in Gang setzen konnte, und er hatte die Gelegenheit. Das Zahnrad, auf das er nun wieder blickte, hatte dabei neben einigen anderen Teilen eine gewisse Rolle gespielt.
Die Gelegenheit hatte sich im Zuge einer der vielen Reisen ergeben, die er zur Vorbereitung der bevorstehenden Verlegung in ein unterirdisches Stollensystem mehrere hundert Kilometer entfernt unternahm. Ein Wagen der Organisation Todt hatte ihn wie üblich am Abend abgeholt und mitten in der Nacht bei einem nur noch von Offizieren und zivilen Experten wie ihm besuchten Hotel abgeliefert. So weit, so unspektakulär.
Nur war eben nicht er gefahren, sondern sein Bruder: Sein eineiiger Zwillingsbruder, von dem er nach einer Geburt in den prekären Verhältnissen einer verfallenden Mietskaserne getrennt worden war und der bei der Mutter unter einem anderen Familiennamen als er selbst und in einem anderen Winkel des Reiches aufgewachsen war. Abgesehen davon, dass sie sich glichen wie das sprichwörtliche Ei dem anderen, gab es keine offensichtliche Verbindung, schon gar keine amtliche. Dafür hatten die Menschen, die er bis zu ihrem tragischen Autounfall als seine Eltern gekannt hatte, schon gesorgt. Sie hatten ihm auch eine behütete Kindheit und Jugend geschenkt und ihm ermöglicht, noch rechtzeitig vor dem Krieg zum Maschinenbauingenieur mit Prädikatsexamen zu werden.
Von der Existenz eines Bruders hatte er erst vor einigen Jahren dank dessen unermüdlichen Nachforschens erfahren. Der hatte irgendwann erst vermutet und war sich schliesslich sicher gewesen, dass er nicht alleine geboren worden war. Zunächst war es eigentlich nur Spass gewesen, dass sie sich immer ganz verschwiegen und in den verschiedensten Städten getroffen hatten. Später hatte es sich als durchaus nützlich erwiesen. Vom ersten Treffen an hatten sie sich ohne viele Worte verstanden. Beide waren ledig und ungebunden, der Bruder reiste quer durch das sich zunächst aufblähende und dann wieder schrumpfende Reich und besorgte auf nur ihm bekannten Wegen, was eigentlich absolut nicht zu bekommen war. Solche Menschen waren unverzichtbar und genossen bemerkenswerte Narrenfreiheit. Es war auch sehr schnell klar geworden, dass ihre Einstellung zu bestimmten Fragen nicht weit auseinander lag.
An jenem Abend war der Bruder also unter falscher Identität aufgebrochen. Er selbst hatte sich - zu dieser Zeit ganz allein in jenem Teil des Werks - an die Arbeit gemacht und alles für das grosse Feuerwerk beim nächsten Anfahren vorbereitet. Das mochte vielleicht eine gute Stunde gedauert haben. Als Dritter im Bunde hatte ihn ein anderer Fahrer, ein sehr verschwiegener und guter Freund seit Kindertagen, eingesammelt und sich mit ihm auf einer anderen Route auf den Weg gemacht. Bei einem morgendlichen Spaziergang durch das verschlafene Städtchen hätten sie, so der Plan, wieder die Rollen getauscht und er hätte sich zum Stollen fahren lassen.
Was dazwischengekommen war, war eine verirrte Bombe eines Angriffs auf eine nahegelegene Fabrik. Diese hatte das Hotel samt Bruder ausgelöscht, als er selbst gerade die Stadtgrenze erreicht hatte. Das für einige Stunden gedachte Verwirrspiel war damit dauerhaft. Er war nun sein Bruder.
Es hatte beim Anlaufen etwas gestockt und gerattert, ein paar seltsame Geräusche. Dann hatten die Räder in der Maschine seines neuen Lebens geschmeidig ineinandergegriffen und hatten sich bewegt, als wäre es nie anders gewesen.
(Teil der Serie: Ein Bild und eine Geschichte. Copyright der Sekretär, 2025. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.)
---
There had probably been some stuttering and rattling during start-up in the morning, a few strange noises. Then the wheels of the complex machinery had come to a standstill. There had been a bang and a flash fire. Within minutes, around a third of the production facility had ceased to exist. There hadn't really been much use for the rest either. Just as planned.
He hadn't been too sure whether he would really find the spot again. But when he looked at the rusty, moss-covered cogwheel sticking out of the grass, he knew he had reached his destination. After so many years, he had decided to come back here one last time so that he could finally come to an end. Come to an end with a project that he had served with zeal for several years. Come to an end with a project and a life.
At some point, the doubts had come, and they would not go away. On the contrary, they had become louder and louder and had finally condensed into a lonely certainty: This war, to whose progress he was contributing, had to come to an end. And it had to end in defeat.
Once that had been fixed, everything else had not really been difficult, just a question of detailed and careful planning. He knew how to set off a devastating chain of effects in the plant with little effort, and he had the opportunity. The cogwheel he was now looking at again had played a certain role in this, along with a couple of other parts.
The opportunity had arisen in the course of one of the many trips he made to prepare for the upcoming transfer to an underground tunnel system several hundred kilometers away. As usual, a car from the Todt organization had picked him up in the evening and dropped him off in the middle of the night at a hotel frequented only by officers and civilian experts like himself. So far, so unspectacular.
However, it wasn't him who had gone, but his brother: his monozygotic twin brother, from whom he had been separated after being born in the precarious conditions of a run-down tenement and who had grown up with his mother under a different surname to his own and in a different corner of the empire. Apart from the fact that they were like two peas in a pod, there was no obvious connection, let alone an official one. The people he had known as his parents until their tragic car accident had already seen to that. They had also given him a sheltered childhood and youth and enabled him to become a mechanical engineer with honors before the war.
He had only found out about the existence of a brother a few years ago thanks to the latter's tireless research. He had first suspected at some point and had finally been certain that he had not been born alone. At first, it had actually just been fun that they had always met in secret and in different cities. Later, it had proved to be quite useful. From their first meeting, they had understood each other without many words. Both were single and unattached, the brother traveled all over the first expanding and later shrinking empire and procured what was actually absolutely unobtainable through channels known only to him. Such people were indispensable and enjoyed remarkable liberties. It also became clear very quickly that their attitudes to certain issues were not far apart.
That evening, the brother had departed under a false identity. He had set to work himself - all alone in that part of the factory at the time - and prepared everything for the big fireworks the next time they started up. That might have taken a good hour. Another driver, a very discreet and good friend since childhood, had picked him up and set off with him on a different route. The plan was that during a morning stroll through the sleepy little town, they would have swapped roles again and he would have let himself be driven to the tunnel.
What had interfered was a stray bomb from an attack on a nearby factory. It had wiped out the hotel and his brother just as he himself had reached the city boundaries. The game of confusion that had been planned for a few hours was now permanent. He was now his brother.
There had been some stuttering and rattling, a few strange noises. Then the wheels in the machine of his new life had meshed smoothly and moved as if it had never been any different.
(Part of the series: A picture and a story. Copyright by Secretary, 2025, all rights reserved.)
Widespread over the southern parts of Australia including Tasmania. Adults fly close to the ground with quick stuttering glides on horizontal wings. When attacked from predators they have an interesting escape reflex, folding their wings and plummeting to the ground as if dead. Males are said to have small territories defended from low perches. They are often observed chasing away the much larger Orchard Butterfly should they encroach into their territory.
So have you heard about SeraPlus?
Bc I gotta tell you.
Fucking INSANE.
A brand new programme between Linden Labs + Seraphim, giving residents on a Plus, Premium and Premium Plus membership some beautiful gifts.
FOR THE NEXT THREE MONTHS.
I didn’t stutter, you heard me.
Creators like Nutmeg, Bad Unicorn, Stealthic, Not Found and so many more have created these incredible gifts.
See this skin?
From Glam Affair. Melina is also available at SeraPlus as one of the gifts.
Melina for Evo X comes in 20 tones, as well as an add on kit with freckles, blush, lips and eye makeup, in varying opacities and shades.
Shown is L003 and freckles 100%.
Worn on Avalon Evo X head.
Legacy body wearing the Glam Affair Ethereal Essence Legacy body skin, Chubby L003.
Thank you Glam Affair, this skin is stunning, and thank you to all the creators, Linden Labs and the team at Seraphim too, for putting this all together.
Now from epoch, you need the Lauren Set in your inventory.
It’s an absolute must have bc you know you’re going to be taking all those summer blog pics soon (ayoooo me too but it’s winter IRL here so…)
Lauren is rigged for
- Reborn
- Waifu
- Legacy
- Maitreya
This set is made up of
- Net Shirt
- Solid Shirt
- Shorts
- Bikini Top + Bottom
Just FYI, my fave piece in the set is the Humans Aren’t Real net tee print!
Head over to the epoch mainstore and pick up your fave pieces/prints!
Honourable Mentions
- Ice Cream DOTS
- Hair Doux
- Sandy Legs + Body/Face water Izzies
- Picnic Days Sunburn Jack Spoon
- Leg Tattoo VUDU Wild + Free Collection
- Sunscreen Heart BLOOM
Sorry for acting this strange, I can't control myself
Struggling for what to say but I could never tell
Take me closer, take my clothes off, oh, I fantasize
If I'm honest, it's more fun when you can't read my mind
Sometimes I fuck you in my head (mhmm)
I let you touch me when I'm lonely in my bed
I wanna scream, but hold my breath (mhmm)
The kinda thing that you would rather leave unsaid
I got dirty wishes on my mind (ah)
But you will never ever know that I
I like to fuck you in my head (mhmm)
You make me scream when there's nobody, just the thought of your body
Sorry, I think I zoned out, can you say that again? I, I, I
I'm stuttering every time that I'm catching your scent (mm-mhmm)
"Peacock flies (Callopistromyia annulipes) are members of the large and varied group of picture-winged flies (the Ulidiidae). They are small (∼4 mm long) and rather pretty, but it is their behavior that makes them so striking for such a small animal. They perform a stuttering sort of dance, with wings held vertically to form striking patch-worked, iridescent-fans, which are moved in an arrhythmic jerking motion as the flies periodically run to and fro. It is this behavior that gives the flies their common name, as the way the wings are brought together, as well as their colored patterns, strongly evoke the more familiar peacock’s tail (Figure 1). Normally, these sorts of display are performed by males trying to attract a female mate." Information is from a Current Biology article on the Cell website
The light was ideal for such a long exposure and felt right for a cliched snatch of long sky, sea and footprints. The sand here on the north east coast of England is peppered with granules of coal which bear testimony to past industry that still lives long in the memories of local residents.
The snow disappeared in record time from our village and the surrounding valley and hills - not an ideal situation. It resulted in some road washouts and flooding, and closures include the main road through Grasslands National Park. Most years the process is more gradual. Most years daytime melting is answered with nighttime freezing, and this cycle produces fabulous ice patterns. But we are all in uncharted territory now, and whatever comes next is likely to be extreme.
My kitchen window overlooks my backyard and garden. I kept looking out while doing other things, and my gaze kept landing on a shallow, frozen puddle... until I finally put on my boots and coat and moseyed into the backyard.
Sidebar: I probably never moseyed in my life until I moved to the prairie, although I drifted, wandered, and meandered quite often. In my BC days I even had a couple of friends, Barry and Richard, who tried to rename me "Meander". They thought it might boost my photography career, the same way Englebert Humperdinck became a star instead of a 3rd rate lounge singer after changing his name. Anyway, it's pronounced with a slight hesitation before the "M" - not a stutter, just a silent skip of a beat. As in, "Hi, my name is... Meander." The next day the phone rang. It was Richard, calling because there were some otters in the creek that wanted their pictures taken. "Hi, is... Meander still there?" Anyway, I didn't exactly embrace the idea of a name change, so it died on the vine. Don't call me... Meander.
Back to the ice. Wow! It looked even better through the macro lens! The main problem was simplifying, but finally I was able to isolate a cluster of bubbles frozen in the ice next to a single blade of grass, also frozen in the ice. I wouldn't call the result abstract, because you can see clearly what it is. I made other shots, but this was the only one that worked. Still, a worthwhile and very cheap "outing", since I didn't use any fossil fuels or meander more than 15 feet from my back door...
Photographed in Val Marie, Saskatchewan (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2023 James R. Page - all rights reserved.
Blizzard railroading Inver Grove Hgts,MN mid 60's. A mile and a half walk up CGW RofW in -20 with +20 winds only to have Graflex shutter stutter ruin several shots.Can't say we weren't in the hunt. Retired the old camera after this. Frustrating. The agony of defeat. In typical RI fashion, this Rocket Frt lived up to it's name. Sorry for the quality. Resulted in frozen toes and buns as well.
A Pig tale.
One evening last October, when I was one-third sober,
And taking home my load with manly pride.
When my feet began to stutter, so
I lay down in the gutter and a pig came up and lay down by my side.
As we sang "It's all fair weather" when good fellows get together, a lady passing by was heard to say.
"You can tell a man who boozes, by the company he chooses"
So the pig got up and slowly walked away.
"Peacock flies (Callopistromyia annulipes) are members of the large and varied group of picture-winged flies (the Ulidiidae) that includes their two-species genus. They are small (∼4 mm long) and rather pretty, but it is their behaviour, first described over 100 years ago, that makes them so striking for such a small animal. Many videos of dancing peacock flies can be found on-line: in them, mottled flies perform a stuttering sort of dance, with wings held vertically to form striking patch-worked, iridescent-fans, which are moved in an arrhythmic jerking motion as the flies periodically run to and fro."
Info copied from a Current Biology article on cell.com
Photographed by me at Conowingo Dam in Maryland.
This was one of the first bird songs that I learnt as a child. It is usually rendered "a little bit of bread and no cheese" but only the cheese bit chimes with me. It was Enid Blyton who supposedly popularised this rendition of the song in several of her books and poems (eg The Yellowhammer Bird in Enid Blyton's Nature Lover's Handbook 1944). But Beatrix Potter mentioned a bird singing this ditty in 1911, more than 30 years before Enid Blyton (in The Tale of Timmy Tiptoes). I have noticed that Yellowhammers sing their songs at two speeds rather like Reed Buntings. There are definitely singers with fast and slow stutters prior to the terminal cheese, which remains the same. In Reed Buntings the fast singers are unpaired males eager to impress and I would guess that the fast singing Yellowhammers are similarly unpaired. This is another seriously depleted farmland bird that has been on the red list since 2002 because of a more than 50% decline in population. It usually needs arable (preferably spring-sown) and herb-rich pasture in close proximity. But specialisation in farming means these two habitats don't occur together very often. But it sometimes can survive where frequently disturbed ground (eg through cattle poaching or farm vehicles) allows arable "weeds" to grow.
The name Yellowhammer is of very ancient origin. The name was first recorded in Britain in 1587 but is known to be much older than that. The preferred name switched to Yellow Bunting from mid-nineteenth to early twentieth century, and this still seems to be the preferred name in the Barnsley area, which is where I photographed this individual.
One of those days when you wish the late-running train could be running even later. This morning, I slept through the rumours, was somehow just too late to get a photo south of Oamaru, and then had to hand the proper car in to the better half for a pre-booked event.
Dejectedly racing home, I prayed intently to Lucas, Prince of Darkness and against all odds, within three cranks the Mini rose from her oily ashes like a stuttering Phoenix, and a course was plotted for for the north.
Making some haste, the train's considerable head start was reeled in North of Glenavy but getting past some slower markers had me only making it here to with only a minute to spare.
920 with an extra two locos off 930, Tuesday 6 August 2019, 5448-4513-5120-5016, Timaru, SIMT-NZ
"ROSEATE A LEAF is cut by its primary line ran the world's a spine inducing curling rosette of words for time and the ruffling of its flesh sallow column blushing late in its life clutch clef caulicle, curled as if suspended all the merelys light handblossomed on the wall was tickled and then swept blank by the filtering leaves before it returned musical without rest quails stutter out from leaves ravaged by insects from the bottom that are basic the mortal mortar poured into each wreath that are an elemental table of their own a touch of turned ground and its envious dead grass."
--George Angel from his new book of poems, On the Voice.
I apologize for my absence lately. I've been working hard on a coming show at the Leslie Jean Porter Gallery in the Palm Springs area, a celebration of photography the month of July. The gallery is taking submissions if you would like to try.. it would be amazing to show with you. Contact the gallery at mary.ljp.events@gmail.com
I will be back soon to see all your treasures!!
xx Diane
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z5oDLSXMtdM
Wake Up
Song by Rage Against Power Machines and Rage Against the Machine
Lyrics
Come on
Come on, although you try to discredit
You'll still never edit
The needle, I'll thread it
Radically poetic
Standing with the fury that they had in '66
And like E-Double, I'm mad
Still knee-deep in the system's shit
Hoover, he was a body remover
I'll give you a dose
But it will never come close
To the rage built up inside of me
Fist in the air, in the land of hypocricy
Movements come and movements go
Leaders speak, movements cease
When their heads are flown
'Cause all these punks got bullets in their heads
Departments of police (what?) the judges (what?) the feds
Networks at work, keeping people calm
You know they went after King
When he spoke out on Vietnam
He turned the power to the have-nots
And then came the shot
Yeah
Yeah, back in this
With poetry, my mind I flex
Flip like Wilson, vocals never lacking that finesse
Who I got to, who I got to do to wake you up?
To shake you up, to break the structure up
'Cause blood still flows in the gutter
I'm like taking photos
Mad boy kicks open the shutter
Set the groove
Then stick and move like I was Cassius
Rep the stutter step and left a bomb upon the fascists
Yeah, the several federal man
Who pulled schemes on the dream
And put it to an end
You better beware
Of retribution with mind war
20-20 visions and murals with metaphors
Networks at work keeping people calm
You know they murdered X
And tried to blame it on Islam
He turned the power to the have-nots
And then came the shot
What was the price on his head?
What was the price on his head?
I think I heard a shot
I think I heard a shot
I think I heard a shot
I think I heard a shot
I think I heard a shot
I think I heard, I think I heard a shot
Wake up
Wake up
Wake up
Wake up
Wake up
Wake up
Wake up
Wake up
How long? Not long, 'cause what you reap is what you sow
The waterfall is formed as the Afon Goch plunges about 120 feet (37 m) over a sill of igneous rock in the foothills of the Carneddau range.
Always nice to have walk up to Aber Falls. Luckily we arrived about 45 minutes before the crowds arrived. I still struggled to get a shot that shows the scale of this place. i should have used Rebecca for a bit of scale but instead i'm stuck with a rock face that looks a bit like Winnie The Pooh(center) that i can't un-see!
in other news, upgraded the RAM on the PC this evening. 16gb to 32gb, no more stuttering when having LR and PS open. I'm pretty sure i went overkill on the RAM speed, but they do light up pretty colours.
1st EXPLORE (Sep 25, 2010 #113)
+3 alts in comments
#2: I stutter sometimes when I can't form coherent sentences on the spot.
BACK to where we left Adrienne and Kayla in Episode 6/8. The Arcturians had just discovered and destroyed a reptilian above-ground complex where the reptilians were testing a stargate.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Ten miles out, two fighter jets sliced through the sky, banking hard in a high-velocity arc—locking their weapons onto the orb.
Avhal’s voice cut through the static. “They have a lock.”
“Impossible,” K’hall snapped. “We should be invisible to their targeting systems. Initiate random-frequency cloaking—now.”
“Already engaged,” Avhal replied, his tone grim. “Missiles inbound.”
Bext’s fingers flew across the console. “Acquiring targets… locking onto missiles and aircraft. Returning fire.”
A thunderclap of impact shook the orb. Lights stuttered, flickered—then steadied. One missile had struck.
“One aircraft down,” Bext muttered, her focus razor-sharp as she scrambled to intercept the second.
“Shields at thirty percent and phasing,” Avhal reported, his voice tight with strain.
“Target the second aircraft,” K’hall said, firmly, eyes fixed on the tactical display watching the remaining jet sweep into firing position.
“Weapon systems are lagging,” Bext growled. “Wait—got him. Firing.”
Another lock. Another missile. The orb reeled from the blast, alarms shrieking through the control room.
“Second aircraft neutralized,” Bext confirmed, silencing the alarms. “We’re clear.”
“Shields are completely down,” Avhal added. “Hull breach in sector 4C. Isolating it now.”
K’hall turned to Bext. “Hail Ramva3. Offer assistance, if needed. If not, have them accompany us. Then plot a course to Axiom5. Alert them of our situation—we will need two bays prepped.”
He turned and saw Kayla and Adrienne sitting down in the adjoining bay, wide-eyed, silent. They’d dropped for cover the moment the jets were detected.
K’hall descended and joined them at the table. “The ship is damaged. We require repairs.”
He paused, then continued, voice low. “The lizards possessing a portal… that changes everything. It is a grave development. I have already exceeded my orders to destroy the chemical weapons site. I must report to the Council.”
Kayla leaned forward. “K’hall, we still have a mission. The reptilian nest must be destroyed. Time is slipping.”
He studied them, eyes shadowed with thought. Then nodded slowly. “You will come with me. I will need you at the Council.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You can view Quantum Fold episodes in order from the beginning in her album titled, Quantum Fold:
www.flickr.com/photos/199076397@N02/albums/72177720326169...
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www.youtube.com/watch?v=3mbBbFH9fAg
In my eyes
Indisposed
In disguises no one knows
Hides the face
Lies the snake
And the sun in my disgrace
Boiling heat
Summer stench
Neath the black, the sky looks dead
Call my name
Through the cream
And I'll hear you scream again
Black hole sun
Won't you come
And wash away the rain?
Black hole sun
Won't you come
Won't you come
Won't you come
Stuttering
Cold and damp
Steal the warm wind, tired friend
Times are gone
For honest men
Sometimes, far too long for snakes
In my shoes
Walking sleep
In my youth, I pray to keep
Heaven send
Hell away
No one sings like you anymore
Black hole sun
Won't you come
And wash away the rain?
Black hole sun
Won't you come
Won't you come
Black hole sun
Won't you come
And wash away the rain?
Black hole sun
Won't you come
Won't you come (Black hole sun, black hole sun)
Won't you come (Black hole sun, black hole sun)
Won't you come (Black hole sun, black hole sun)
Won't you come? (Black hole sun, black hole sun)
Hang my head
Drown my fear
Till you all just disappear
Black hole sun
Won't you come
And wash away the rain?
Black hole sun
Won't you come
Won't you come
Black hole sun
Won't you come
And wash away the rain?
Black hole sun
Won't you come
This photo would tell the sad story of The Wind in the Willow. The original story by Kenneth Grahame has a special resonance in our family, since I read it to our first son, Jack, during Laura's pregnancy - with all the little voices and little voices of the characters (with Moly being a little stuttering). However this is quite another story... There had been a violent thunderstorm in the night, and the sky was still recalling all that nightly turmoil; I tried a sunrise session - a rather unfortunate one, riddled with mistakes on my part (among which not having scouted the location earlier), but I enjoyed the walk a lot. This photo is the result of the processing of one of the few acceptable bracketings from that morning. I must confess that I have not enjoyed too much this specific processing since I do not love how I have captured the sky (definitely not the right day to shoot, one would say), and I do not especially love the shot, but I want to post the story of the young Willow which fell at the high winds.
And, well, this is one of the very last photos taken with my Nikon D5100 before acquiring a beautiful D750 (I know, it is an old model, but love is blind to such details!). Hope that you will enjoy it.
I have obtained this picture by blending an exposure bracketing [-1.3/0/+1.3 EV] by luminosity masks with the Gimp (EXIF data, as usual, refer to the "normal" exposure shot), then I added some final touches with Nik Color Efex Pro 4.
I tried the inverted RGB blue channel technique described by Boris Hajdukovic as a possible final contribution to the processing. While this technique (which, its imposing name notwithstanding, is pretty simple to implement) often holds good results in full daylight landscapes, its effects on a low-light capture (e.g. a sunrise) are utterly unpredictable, so at the end of my workflow I often give it a try to ascertain its possibilities. Here I have blurred a bit the inverted Blue channel layer.
RAW files processed with Darktable. Denoising with Dfine.
Merry Christmas
This has been a shitty year. It got really going in Sept. when The singer to our Blues Band passed away from Cancer.(two days after we held a benefit for him)
Then two other family members passed away in the following two weeks. Then my brother was diagnosed with tongue cancer and had some serious operations done there. Broke my wrist (day before our singer passed) and have been off of work since.
I am crawling slowly to meet the new year. I am not feeling trust worthy.
Then you add in a stuttering Flickr which has always been my relaxant and joy.
Don't know what to say. i still laugh and find things funny. I will laugh till I die. I know you through here and, I love you guys.
Happy Teddy Bear Tuesday
Come visit Fab Free, the longest running Freebie blog on the grid! We showcase the best free gifts available for everyone, multiple times a day. Today I've got a great free gift to show you from HAVOC x Roslyn!
Fab Free: fabfree.wordpress.com/2025/02/03/nerd-girl/
I'm your nerd girl
Reading comics in the dark
My favorite station's NPR, yours too
You're my nerd boy
Love your awkward little walk
The way you stutter-talk like you do
345/365
I have been hoping for snow all day so as to get out of having to go and give my presentation for my assignment tomorrow because I still cannot get past the first three sentences without stumbling and stuttering. But, alas, no more snow.
I really have got to stop buying roses. I only end up destroying them. I used spray paint on this one.
There's nothing in the world that loves you
more than the space you already take up.
There's nothing in the world that won't
forget you faster than you forgot
the last person that stepped out from your life.
When the cat reaches up
one needled paw to drag down a book
from your desk, then another,
that's not love—that's dominance.
When you reach up your hand and try to wheedle
someone else's to hold it, that's love
dominating you. There's no word for loving more
than you should, just the feeling of excess,
as if your tongue burst in a rash of red sequins,
as if everyone can see your stutter in the air,
staccato love you, love you, and nothing in the world
standing in that space to receive it.
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Email: foto@e-c-k-art.de
In case you would like to purchase a license, picture or arrange a exhibition please contact me.
All my images are protected under international authors copyright laws and may not be downloaded, reproduced, copied, transmitted or manipulated without my written explicit permission
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“Askew, awry, or just akimbo.
What magnitude of ruin clangs forth
in inevitable intersection?
Two trains collide such that no one knows
the interior of which through which
has torn into. Disaster is
the flashing after of connection.
Strewn. Rails, window frames and bannisters
delimit and impale the scattered star.
Catastrophe is our inheritance.
We walk toward it hollowed out by light.”
—George Angel
www.modernliterature.org/2017/12/01/stuttered-budding-six...
Scanned print.
Holga 120 CFN. 6x4,5 mask.
June 22, 2025.
Fomapan 400 in Rodinal 1+90, semistand 1 h.
Printed on Gevaert Gevabrom 8, grade 3.
Developed in Moersch Eco 4812, bleached and redeveloped in Thiourea (brown/warm brown setting).
Every living thing dies in the end. What goes up, must come down. True for poppies, too. The skeletons can however still be beautiful. And considering that the poppy population (isn't that almost a stuttering joke?) in this place began with about 5 individuals 10 years ago and is now showing up more than 40-50 plants every year shows how biology works. Without me interfering. You are all very welcome every year and I want you to prosper :-)
Fairly small, plump bird with large but disjunct range across much of South America. Dull brown above and rufous below with gray face, rufous crown, red eye, and red legs. Sexes similar. Tends to be quite shy, creeping on the ground in thickets, scrub, wet pastures, and savanna. Found in drier habitats than other rail species. Listen for the trilled song with a clicking or tinkling quality, often stuttering a bit. ebird.org/species/ruccra1
Thanks a lot for your visits, comments, faves, invites, etc. Very much appreciated!
© All my images are protected under international authors copyright laws and may not be downloaded, reproduced, copied, transmitted or manipulated by any means without my written explicit permission, including the use on websites and similar medias. All rights reserved. Please contact me at thelma.gatuzzo@gmail.com if you intend to buy or use any of my images.
My instagram if you like: @thelmag, @thelma_and_cats and @teg_photo_arts
Member of Nature’s Spirit
Good Stewards of Nature
Olney State Forest, The Watagans, New South Wales, Australia
Vulnerable
Contact me on jono_dashper@hotmail.com for use of this image.
“Sip bridle satiation,
oh, wistless awl,
so quick to puncture,
so pressed to roll
and pawl the advance.
Every lingering a scrape,
a further sharpened cog
that will sink into,
then stutter out,
segmentation,
stall after stall.”
—George Angel
SONG: "When I See You" by Fantasia
LYRICS:
I put your picture on my mirror
Start to blush when somebody says your name
In my stomach there's a pain
See you walk in my direction
I go the other way
I start to stutter when I speak
Try to stand but my knees go weak
What's happening to me?
In the dark, can you tell me what it means?
I lay my head on my pillow
Staring out the window
Wish on a star for a sign
Is the reason why
You're always on my mind
When you come around, I get shy
When I see you, when I see you
Never know when you might walk by
So I gotta be right on time
When I see you, when I see you
I scribble X's and O's in my notebook
Checking how my hair and nails look
I feel myself in the zone
I get nervous when you call
So I say I'm not home
I see your face
When I hear my favorite song
Should I send a email at home
You're the number one topic on the phone
I wonder if you know or do you have a clue?
I lay my head on my pillow
You got me staring out the window
Wish on a star for a sign
What's the reason why
You're always on my mind
When you come around, I get shy
When I see you, when I see you
Never know when you might walk by
So I gotta be right on time
When I see you, when I see you
Something now is taking over me
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I'm not gonna run now
Just gonna stand here and see
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, yeah
You're always on my mind
When you come around, I get shy
When I see you, when I see you
Never know when you might walk by
So I gotta be right on time
When I see you, when I see you
You're always on my mind
When you come around, I get shy
When I see you, when I see you
Never know when you might walk by
So I gotta be right on time
When I see you, when I see you
SONG: "When I See You" by Fantasia
LYRICS:
I put your picture on my mirror
Start to blush when somebody says your name
In my stomach there's a pain
See you walk in my direction
I go the other way
I start to stutter when I speak
Try to stand but my knees go weak
What's happening to me?
In the dark, can you tell me what it means?
I lay my head on my pillow
Staring out the window
Wish on a star for a sign
Is the reason why
You're always on my mind
When you come around, I get shy
When I see you, when I see you
Never know when you might walk by
So I gotta be right on time
When I see you, when I see you
I scribble X's and O's in my notebook
Checking how my hair and nails look
I feel myself in the zone
I get nervous when you call
So I say I'm not home
I see your face
When I hear my favorite song
Should I send a email at home
You're the number one topic on the phone
I wonder if you know or do you have a clue?
I lay my head on my pillow
You got me staring out the window
Wish on a star for a sign
What's the reason why
You're always on my mind
When you come around, I get shy
When I see you, when I see you
Never know when you might walk by
So I gotta be right on time
When I see you, when I see you
Something now is taking over me
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I'm not gonna run now
Just gonna stand here and see
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, yeah
You're always on my mind
When you come around, I get shy
When I see you, when I see you
Never know when you might walk by
So I gotta be right on time
When I see you, when I see you
You're always on my mind
When you come around, I get shy
When I see you, when I see you
Never know when you might walk by
So I gotta be right on time
When I see you, when I see you
Long exposure fun on a windy day.
Many thanks for all views and fav's - particularly comments!
All are greatly appreciated!
They also have intriguing social lives in which females take the lead and males raise the young. With their richly spotted breeding plumage, teetering gait, stuttering wingbeats, and showy courtship dances, this bird is among the most notable and memorable shorebirds in North America.
«At most you may hear something like waves stuttering on the pebbles»
Odysseas Elytis, "Public and Privates"
«Το πολύ ν' ακούσεις κάτι σαν τραύλισμα κυμάτων επάνω στα βότσαλα»
Οδ. Ελύτης, "Τα δημόσια και τα ιδιωτικά"
www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/1979...
Lyrics
Am I enough
Or am I just a shame?
Should I go
Or should I stay?
Silence is creeping
Think of something to say
You stutter and mumble
Today's just not your day
They smile and laugh like people do
Yet you're standing there without clue
I'm floating away just like a balloon
I'm fit to burst
But they can't see that it's you
They say they'll hold on tight
But is that really the truth?
If I'm let go now I'll just fade to blue
Entered in the Challenge # 144.0 ~ Water Works ~The Award Tree ~
www.flickr.com/groups/awardtree/discuss/72157670627769915/
Venetian Backwaters
Only a decaying Disneyland,
cosmopolitan colours of cobbled walls
mingle into milky mint of silk ripples;
a cracked painting
filled with optimistic carnations.
No hooked romance slices through these waters;
tarnished motorboats scrape along synthetic canyons,
harnessed to cruel portcullises.
Expectant quiet laps at broken bricks and rust,
lisping whispers hissed at the dormant air.
Distant weathervanes flaunt their flashes of sunlight,
drowning out a howl gagged by cheap lace.
Now left with only her naivety,
she wades through the murky labyrinth,
dragged from the art gallery perfection
that tempted her into those cutthroat corridors.
Squatting in a scabbing iron doorway,
her fatigued eyes stutter closed
as she droops to muddy rest.
Cold Venus swallows her prey.