View allAll Photos Tagged stutter
Practicing star trails for an upcoming trip to Yosemite. The trails in this shot have a slight stutter which causes them to not look as smooth. I'm still figuring out the Sony built in time-lapse app; so I think it's the problem. I may have to go back to using my old method of shutter priority bracketing.
This was approximately 45 minutes of 30sec exposures blended with a single shot for the foreground using a luminosity mask.
Japan in Epcot seems to be the darkest area around the World Showcase. Every time I capture stars there I'm amazed at how many I can see in my photos.
Stuttering star trail. It was looking to be clear on Saturday night so decide to try get a astro shot with my little olympus with its livecomp mode, which stacks the photos in camera. It's a popular place for dog walkers but nobody will be there this time of night it's pitch black. WRONG! Eventually I get the composition I wanted and along came the visiting Exmoor ponies to see what this idiot is doing on the hill, on this cold night. So I start again and along comes the first dog walker, no light but his monster dog nearly knocks over my tripod. And I bet he left a monster poo on the hill. I start again and back come the ponies, I ignore them, I'll brush them out in post. Then an aeroplane across my trail. Start again. Now the fun and games, another couple of dog walkers with torches, flashing collars on the dogs and flashing go and fetch balls. Nearly about to give up, but I take a clean image of the foreground before the neon dog walkers make the return trip and then go for it. The last attempt I get 40 shots, with ponies walking about the foreground and then I pack in, my feet were freezing. Said bye bye to the ponies who I was getting rather attached to. Anyway I've stacked what I got together in PS for your enjoyment. Every photo tells a story.
paltimesnews 21/X/25
'Reports from the Gaza Mental Health Program reveal that many children in Gaza are losing their ability to speak due to psychological trauma from the ongoing war and Israeli bombardment, not physical injuries.
Known as “psychological mutism,” affected children communicate through gestures and repetitive movements instead of words.
Dr. Hiba Haidar, a language disorders specialist, confirmed that UNICEF and WHO data link speech loss and stuttering directly to exposure to bombing and traumatic events.
Even before the genocide, over half of Gaza’s children showed symptoms of post-traumatic stress, and experts warn that the situation may worsen, increasing the psychological burden on the next generation.'
_______________________
BETHEL - CAPEL YR ANNIBYNWYR/ INDEPENDENT CHAPEL - CYNGHORDY - SIR GAERFYRDDIN/ CARMARTHENSHIRE (1872)
*I'm sorry the picture isn't that great. I've included this looong story so you can see what is happening, as it's not very clear in the pic. You don't have to read it if you don't want to. But if you do, be sure to read the notes on the dolls before the story. Thanks (:
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For weeks, Penelope and her two best friends, Skye and Krystell, had plans to see their favourite dance group, The Swifts, perform a musical on stage. While the trio were discussing their plans at the school cafeteria one day, Penelope's former best friend and Krystell's Science Lab partner, Hilary, who happened to be the most annoying girl at the school, overheard their conversation. Excited from the words "The Swifts" and "I can't wait to see them", Hilary yanked a chair from a nearby table and sat with the girls.
"You're going to see The Swifts?!" Asked Hilary with wide eyes and hands clasped to her chin.
While still getting used to the fact that Hilary - the girl who used to steal just about every one of her pencils and erasers, the girl who laughed and made fun of her when she was sick, snotty and coughing in class, the girl who turned away her old friends, picked fights and lied her mouth off to just about everybody - Penelope sat there, unable to form words from her mouth, regretting that she'd ever started the conversation about seeing her favourite dance group while Hilary was nearby.
There was a small silence between the girls. Skye, having small knowledge of Hilary's true character and thinking that Penelope and Krystell were friends with Hilary only because she had seen them talking and walking together in the past, finally spoke up; "Yep, wanna come?"
Penelope and Krystell, slightly burying their faces in their hands, looked at each other nervously. They felt too bad to say anything, as Skye had already invited Hilary to come.
"Sure!" Hilary replied excitedly.
In the week to come, the four girls prepared for the show; they purchased the tickets and bought new dresses. When they were dressed and it was finally time to see the show which was starting in thirty minutes, they all met at Penelope's house to take her car. A confident Hilary, sure she had everything, took one last look into her purse to re-assure she had her ticket... but it was gone! She had left it on her dresser back at her house!
"Oh my Gosh, where's my ticket?!?!" Hilary yelled out as she was searching her purse.
The girls just stood back watching Hilary's rage, worried that she would never find her ticket and somehow try to stop them from seeing the show they were planning to see for weeks.
Hilary panicked and grabbed her head. "OMG, OMG, OMG, OMG!!!" she yelled, pulling every little item from her purse and shoving it back in with frustration.
Penelope couldn't just stand back helplessly any longer; she wanted to help Hayley somehow so Skye and Krystell could see the show. A generous Penelope, worried for her best friends and not herself, suddenly spoke up; "Hilary!" She tried calling out over Hilary's shouting. Hilary heard, turned around and glanced at Penelope; "What do you want?"
"I... Y-You can have my ticket" stuttered Penelope, still unsure of what she was doing.
"Really?! OMG, you saved my life!" replied a relieved Hilary.
Penelope grabbed the ticket from her bag and handed it over to Hilary, who swiped it from her hand in a heartbeat. "Thanks!" she said with no shame at all. "Well, see ya!" she heads over to the other girls.
Penelope was dumbfounded by Hilary's selfishness. But still, at least she felt better now that she knew her friends could see the show they had been planning for so long.
Hilary swung her arms over Skye's and Krystell's shoulders and walked out the door. Penelope could see how irratated her BFF's were from Hilary's weight over their shoulders. "Uh-Oh!" thought Penelope."What have I done to my girls?!"
maybe for a long time, disowned by your parents, betrayed by your wife. Your friends live in another town, your children only recall your stutter. You could hit yourself when you see yourself in the mirror... (angel touches his shoulder)
What's going on? I'm still here! All I need do is want it! I must want it! Only then will I get myself out of it! I can let myself go or drag myself out!!!
(Taken from the English subtitled version of the film "Der Himmel über Berlin").
(Sphyrapicus nuchalis) - Red-naped Sapsucker
Red-naped Sapsuckers are industrious woodpeckers with a taste for sugar. They drill neat little rows of holes in aspen, birch, and willow to lap up the sugary sap that flows out. The presence of sap wells is a good indication that they are around, but so are their harsh wailing cries and stuttered drumming. The red patch on the back of their head helps separate these sharply dressed black-and-white sapsuckers from Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers in the East and Red-breasted Sapsuckers along the western coastal states. Read more at: www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Red-naped_Sapsucker/overview
I wish I could say he wept for me alone
from his willow branch, but he sang for the whole
neighborhood, as twilight rose on his Addio L' Amore
for some fickle Violetta gone nest hopping, a lament
so rending each trill seemed to shatter
his glass heart and the baritones in the pond fell silent,
and whatever jubilation normally erupts never did,
not while the jay grieved and the sky filled
with pinpricks of light. I wish I could have stroked
his chest, his twin, stuttering lungs, and consoled all
who listened on our stumps and lonely boles,
remembering our own farewells to love: dark eyes,
sleek feathers, sweet wine of those who peck us blind
and flutter off. So sing, little Rodolfo, sad
Paglacci, and let us cry with you in fellowship,
and let us cry for our mutual folly, for love which
evaporates, for passion which devours us, for
emptiness, yes, warble a note or two for the pouring
out of ourselves into others, for this dusk which
has turned the woods vermilion, for this town
lighting itself against the night. Your blue flame
flickers, then flies away toward the river and now it is
my turn to sing, then the crickets and locusts
and bats shrieking as they come through the dark.
--Miguel de O
Olney State Forest, The Watagans, New South Wales, Australia
Vulnerable
Contact me on jono_dashper@hotmail.com for use of this image.
yea just can't have enough shots of reflection. the only problem is how to keep all the ducks in a row. water, light, boats, air planes and did i mention mosquitoes ...last time i had to actually park my car right next to my tripod. i would press the stutter and run inside my car to escape the army of mosquitoes. lol..
To view more of my photos click below.
They converge on the river at winter's end as they have for eons, carpeting the wetlands. In this light, something saurian still clings to them: the oldest flying things on earth, one stutter step away from pterodactyls. As darkness falls for real, it's a beginner's world again, the same evening as that day sixty million years ago when this migration began. -- Richard Powers, The Echo Maker
More at my blog Letter from Here.
Four days ago, on 15 April 2015, my parking lot was going to be spring-cleaned, which meant that all cars had to be out of the lot by 7:30 am. I don't have a 2015 street parking permit, so I had to leave home at 7:30 and find something that would use up the few hours before my volunteer shift. I didn't want to risk being late for that, so decided to stay within the city rather than go driving some backroads. The owls in Fish Creek Park ended up being my destination. I had only been there twice in many weeks and seen Mom on my first visit and then Mom with two of her three owlets on the second. When I arrived four mornings ago, there was no sign of the "paparazzi" - I had been expecting there to be at least a few photographers and people out for a walk. This time, I was able to see all three owlets as well as Mom and Dad. Late afternoon, after my volunteer shift, I called in again for a while on my way home.
Note added on 19 April: I've just checked the EXIF data for my photos from that morning and talk about being lucky! When I got to the park, I took my first photo at 7:52 am. The photo above was my sixth photo, and was taken at 7:54 am.. I think I was actually standing on the paved path for this. I heard today that a 10 minute limit has now been put on watching and photographing the owls at this location, thanks to the people who are there from morning till late afternoon every day (or almost every day). I had a bad feeling that these people were going to end up spoiling things for everyone else, and now it has happened. Can't say I agree with the "10 minute thing", but all day every day is going way too far. Sigh ....
This is a busy Mom with three young ones – not sure which owlet this is. Dad sits in one or other of the nearby trees, keeping careful watch over his mate and owlets. He hunts at night and brings food to the rest of his family. The feathers around Mom’s beak are very dark, discoloured from the dried blood from all the feedings.
"With its long, earlike tufts, intimidating yellow-eyed stare, and deep hooting voice, the Great Horned Owl is the quintessential owl of storybooks. This powerful predator can take down birds and mammals even larger than itself, but it also dines on daintier fare such as tiny scorpions, mice, and frogs. It’s one of the most common owls in North America, equally at home in deserts, wetlands, forests, grasslands, backyards, cities, and almost any other semi-open habitat between the Arctic and the tropics.
Great Horned Owls are nocturnal. You may see them at dusk sitting on fence posts or tree limbs at the edges of open areas, or flying across roads or fields with stiff, deep beats of their rounded wings. Their call is a deep, stuttering series of four to five hoots." From AllAboutBirds.
Please view 4 images and two short videos in the first comment box
The black oystercatcher [Haematopus bachmani] is about 15-19 inches in length. It has a stocky [brown-]black body, yellow eyes surrounded by a red ring, a long bright red-orange bill and pink legs. [The genus name Haematopus derives from the Greek for “blood-footed,” a reference to its pinkish feet] Males and females look alike.
The black oystercatcher eats a variety of invertebrate marine life including mussels, whelks and limpets. Despite its name, it rarely eats oysters! It especially likes to eat creatures that cling to the rocks below the high-tide line. It usually forages at low tide and rests at high tide. It uses its long, sharp bill to pry bivalves like limpets and mussels off the rocks and then to open them. They also look for open mussels and disable them by stabbing the adductor muscle that holds the shell together. This keeps the shell open. The oyster catcher then pulls out the contents with the tip of its sharp bill and swallows its catch. nhpbs.org/natureworks/blackoystercatcher.htm
[They make] high-pitched, piping or whistling notes, given singly or in rolling, stuttering, or trilling series [...]. All About Birds
chụp hôm 31 Dec 2010 rồi cơ . mà hôm nay buồn quá . chả có gì làm nên vừa ngồi xem lại Sắc đẹp ngàn cân vừa ngồi lục máy , kiếm ra được 2 tấm này . không đẹp . nhưng vì hết hình rồi nên up đỡ cái này =D .
♥ 08.02.2011 ♥
Mọi chuyện sẽ tiếp tục như thế nào đây ?
There's a whole lotta things that i will forgive
But i just cant take a liar .
It was one of those nights where the music hummed just right, and the air felt thick with the possibility of something new. He saw her across the bar—not in the dramatic, slow-motion way movies might show, but in a quiet, undeniable instant. Her laughter caught his attention first, then the way her eyes sparkled when she tilted her head to listen.
She noticed him too—leaning casually against the counter, a little out of place in the crowd, like he hadn’t planned to be there long. But the moment their eyes met, time stuttered. It wasn’t loud, not a thunderclap or a shock. It was a soft, electric pull. Something ancient and familiar, like they’d just remembered each other in a place they’d never been.
Love at first sight, people say, is a myth. But there, in the warm haze of a crowded bar, with hearts not looking but somehow ready, two souls recognized something neither of them had words for yet.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=BVN1aEFBcxw
Don't Leave, I Think I Love You · Toby Keith
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
— Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
A build for Digital Forge, inspired by old RTS games. The seed part is used as structural element in figures and vehicles, and also as tank chassis and rocket launchers.
Washpool National Park, Gibraltar Range, New South Wales, Australia
Contact me on jono_dashper@hotmail.com for use of this image.
When footlights dim in reverence to prescient passion forewarned
My audience leaves the stage, floating ahead perfumed shift
Within the stammering silence, the face that launched a thousand frames
Betrayed by a porcelain tear, a stained career
You played this scene before, you played this scene before
I the mote in your eye, I the mote in your eye
A misplaced reaction
The darkroom unleashes imagination in pornographic images
In which you will always be the star, always be the star, untouchable
Unapproachable, constant in the darkness
Nursing an erection, a misplaced reaction
With no flower to place before this gravestone
And the walls become enticingly newspaper thin
But that would be developing the negative view
And you have to be exposed in voyeuristic colour
The public act, let you model your shame
On the mannequin catwalk, catwalk
Let the cats walk, and the cat walks
I've played this scene before, I've played this scene before
I the mote in your eye, I the mote in your eye
A misplaced reaction, satisfaction
You can't brush me under the carpet, you can't hide me under the stairs
The custodian of your private fears, your leading actor of yesteryear
Who as you crawled out of the alleys of obscurity
Sentenced to rejection in the morass of anonymity
You who I directed with lovers will, you who I let hypnotise the lens
You who I let bathe in the spotlights glare
You who wiped me from your memory like a greasepaint mask
Just like a greasepaint mask
But now I'm the snake in the grass, the ghost of film reels past
I'm the producer of your nightmare and the performance has just begun
It's just begun
Your perimeter of courtiers jerk like celluloid puppets
As you stutter paralysed with rabbits eyes, searing the shadows
Flooding the wings, to pluck elusive salvation from the understudy's lips
Retrieve the soliloquy, maintain the obituary
My cue line in the last act and you wait in silent solitude
Waiting for the prompt, waiting for the prompt
You've played this scene before
(Pic title is another reference to Stutter Rap by Morris Minor and the Majors)
A cheeky lingerie shoot I did in my lovely bedroom on a lazy Bank Holiday afternoon.
With the characteristic stuttering chatter, this Belted Kingfisher dove into the shallow waters of Yaquinna Bay almost always returning with a bit of a meal.
She says she's no good with words but I’m worse
Barely stuttered out
A joke of a romantic stuck to my tongue
And weighed down with words too over-dramatic
Tonight it's "it can't get much worse"
Vs. "no one should ever feel like.."
I’m two quarters and a heart down
And I don’t want to forget how your voice sounds
These words are all I have so I write them
I need them just to get by
We will own your thoughts
We'll own the songs stuck in your head
We'll leave you kicking and screaming so you can thank us in the end
Dance, Dance
We're falling apart to half time
Dance, Dance
And these are the lives you love to lead
Dance this is the way they'd look
If they knew how misery loved me
(I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me, crawling into bed with me)
You always fold just before you're found out
Drink up its last call
Last resort
But only the first mistake and I...
I’m two quarters and a heart down
And I don’t want to forget how your voice sounds
These words are all i have so I write them
I need them just to get by
Why don't you show me a little bit of spine
You've been saving for his mattress (with love)
Dance, Dance
We're falling apart to half time
Dance, Dance
And these are the lives you love to lead
Dance this is the way they'd look
If they knew how misery loved me
Why don't you show me a little bit of spine
You've been saving for his mattress (with love)
I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me
Dance, Dance
Dance, Dance
Dance, Dance
Dance, Dance
Fall Out Boy
Used MotionCam on the ZTE Axon 30 Ultra to create CinemaDNG footage.
This footage is in 10 bit and was later processed in DaVinci Resolve to optimize the dynamic range in the video.
The range for postprocessing is incredible considering that the capture device is just a smartphone.
MotionCam produces a huge amount of data so only smartphones with a very strong CPU and fast memory can handle the resulting data stream.
Not that stuttering on Youtube like here:
The original H.265 (HEVC) clip:
It was a warm, humid day in Barrow town. Without warning, a hard constant thumping noise hammered its way through the fetid air of my apartment, and bored through my being into my very soul. Slowly, I opened the door to be confronted by a figure that could only be described as undernourished, gaunt and bedraggled. “Come with me, and bring your camera”, the stranger uttered, “we’re going for a ride”.
After forcing my way into his unkempt automobile, I was whisked away to a barren, foreboding place that could only be described as ‘the back of beyond’. The stranger began to take photographs of weird, bizarre, disgusting creatures whose ungodly appearance seemed appealing to him somehow.
Eventually, we departed that god-forsaken place, and after he had transported me back to my humble abode he mysteriously uttered the words “The name’s Hock – Damian Hock; now say it back to me, punk”. My throat went dry, and I could only nervously stutter “Gay man’s frock?”, before he was gone, as if transported mysteriously into the ethereal structures that make up the town of Barrow in Furness – the ones that the local council had decided not to demolish at least.
Seriously though folks, this is flickr poster boy ..Damian.., taken on a recent sojourn into the wilds of Walney Island, a few miles outside Barrow. Check out some more of his stuff here, if you haven’t already:- www.flickr.com/photos/26485697@N05/
Last year I posted a photo of a Cuckoo with its beak open calling and a friend told me that the RSPB Complete Book of British Birds states that "the male keeps its bill closed when calling". I checked the book and that is indeed what it says, though it was published back in 1988. Well I have watched a lot of Cuckoos and I can say categorically that male Cuckoos do open their bills when calling. In fact they open the bill twice with each syllable. It is opened just a few millimetres for the "cuck", then closed and then opened a smaller amount for the "oo". They open their beak noticeably wider for the first syllable of the stuttering "CUCK-Cuck-oo" and they also open the bill wider for that wonderful wheezy chuckling. If you listen to this recording on Xeno Canto eventually the male gives the trisyllabic Cuck-cuck-oo, and the wheezy chuckling: www.xeno-canto.org/580937 .
I photographed this male in the Peak District last week when there was another male around and a female had given her bubbling call. This male was giving the wheezy chuckle so I managed to capture him with his beak wide open. It's a wonderful call but you can only hear it when the birds are at close range, whereas the cuckoo call can be heard over a mile away. And one final thing; I never knew that adult Cuckoos have orange inside their mouths just like the begging juveniles.
The dapper Spotted Sandpiper makes a great ambassador for the notoriously difficult-to-identify shorebirds. They occur all across North America, they are distinctive in both looks and actions, and they're handsome. 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.
Old Glasgow cinema. Used as a bingo hall in the 1970s and then a warehouse before lying empty & falling into disrepair. Redevelopment stutters along. It has been dormant for a few years. A 1st floor has been put in. The old roof trusses here reminded me of Buddhist temples
Rise Rebel Resist-Otep
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ooXPFRh6rs
perfect little spouses
in perfect little houses
it's family fun time
let's commit a hate crime
....if i can't be loved, then I'll be hated.
I'm disconnected
I'm uninspired
I'm burning in water
I'm drowning in fire
I'm trapped inside my mind
beneath these piles of stinking life
you use this abuse to keep me conquered
you're so absurdly common
vacant faces
brainless strangers
sputtering, stuttering insect language
I'm the creature you created
everyday i grow jaded
calloused and exasperated
if I'll never be loved
then I'll be hated
I'm one of the
freaks, the fagots,
the geeks, the savages,
rogues, rebels, dissident devils,
artists, martyrs, infidels ...
do we sit still
under attack?
or do we start pushing back?
never back up
never back down
& FIGHT.
RISE
REBEL
RESIST
RISE
REBEL
MAKE A FIST
RESIST
RISE
REBEL
RESIST
RISE
REBEL
MAKE A FIST
RESIST
I'm human pollution
I covet retribution
I'm just a big mistake
a defect you can subjugate
your ridicule is just typical antics
spineless, mindless, tragic, fanatic
puritan, bigot
lunatic, hypocrite
To save my soul from disaster
self-destruction could be the answer
if I'll never be loved
then I'll be hated
I'm one of the
freaks, the fagots,
the geeks, the savages,
rogues, rebels, dissident devils,
artists, martyrs, infidels ...
do we sit still
under attack?
or do we start pushing back?
never back up
never back down
& FIGHT.
RISE
REBEL
RESIST
RISE
REBEL
MAKE A FIST
RESIST
RISE
REBEL
RESIST
RISE
REBEL
MAKE A FIST
RESIST
masochistic
so sadistic
all they see is another statistic
maybe I'm a misfit, maybe I'm different
it will never be an average existence
masochistic
so sadistic
all they see is another statistic
If I can't be loved
then I'll be hated
it's family fun time
let's commit a hate crime
WAR
WAR
RISE
REBEL
RESIST
RISE
REBEL
MAKE A FIST
RESIST
RISE
REBEL
RESIST
RISE
REBEL
MAKE A FIST
RESIST
(WE ARE)
the
freaks, the fagots,
the geeks, the savages,
rogues, rebels, dissident devils,
artists, martyrs, infidels ...
do we sit still
under attack?
or do we start pushing back?
never back up
never back down
& fight
WAR
WAR
RESIST
Pose: 5ifth Order
Armor: Tonktastic
Weapons: C-Tech Mag 10 and Semple Creations Prince Sword.
Location: Higashiosaka
Almost 15 years have passed since the Adventurers last saw adventure...
Time has taken its toll and the World has changed.
It is time for Johny Thunder to get
the gang back together!
From left to right:
- Gabarro (lost an eye to the loa loa filariasis worm since we last saw him)
- Pippin "Storm" Reed (still as feisty as ever! Her and Johny had a bit of a thing and still do every now and then)
- Johny Thunder (shaved his moustache off as felt it made him look even older than 15 years ago, plus it made him look like a hipster which Pippin disliked)
- Prof Articus Kilroy (finally toughened up a bit and although still lectures, he prefers working in the field. The fresh air has also gotten rid of his stutter)
- Daisy Kilroy (turns out Prof A Kilroy fathered a daughter many years ago. Daisy comes along with her French Bulldog Philippe. and her husband, Stanford Cunningham)
- Stanford Cunningham (Daisys husband and son-in-law to Prof Kilroy. A gentle soul, 10 years older than Daisy, quite bald and quite wealthy. Often finances the expeditions)
- Baxter Cane (the young son that Harry ended up with after a wild night in Beirut. Raised by Harry with help from Johny, Pippin and Prof, he is as book smart as he is street smart)
- Harry Cane (any tougher and he would rust. Good father, good friend and an even better pilot)
On a walk through the forest you might spot rows of shallow holes in tree bark. In the East, this is the work of the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, an enterprising woodpecker that laps up the leaking sap and any trapped insects with its specialized, brush-tipped tongue. Attired sharply in barred black-and-white, with a red cap and (in males) throat, they sit still on tree trunks for long intervals while feeding. To find one, listen for their loud mewing calls or stuttered drumming.
Kansas (Kaw) River, Lawrence, Kansas--a photo taken and uploaded two years ago, now with a significant upgrade (slowly, slowly, I continue to get better at digital processing). Since my hard drive is in the shop right now, the last few days I've just been upgrading older images like this one.
Best viewed in lightbox, i.e., click on expand arrows at upper right.
A sunset experienced last summer (2022) from the Kansas River Bridge. Sunsets are known for their ephemeral natures, so as I was driving over said bridge, I knew I had to find a parking place pronto, which I did on the north end at Johnny's Tavern. I then grabbed my camera bag and at full sprint, retraced my "steps," which was about 400 meters. It's been a good while since a sprinted 400 meters, so I was definitely out of breath. As you see, I managed to capture the scene before it evanesced to nothing. Not wanted to use a high ISO, I used the railing along the bridge to help steady my hand, and--out of breath or no--held my breath for each shot.
This is a Pano combining four photos.
The map here identifies the place as "Lawrence, Lawrence, Kansas." It isn't like NY, NY--it wasn't named by a stutterer, it's just plain "Lawrence, KS."
A few days before Christmas I met up with my brother at Monyash (with No. 1 son in tow) for a walk in Lathkill Dale. Forecast wasn't wonderful (it was cold and frosty and this was as much sun as we saw all day) but we'd been planning a walk for a while and were concerned. that another Covid lockdown could scupper a visit over the Christmas period. A 13 mile walk was good for the soul, as was finding a tea shop open in Youlgreave
On the whole 2021 hasn't been wonderful and the future looks uncertain. My father passed away a few months ago and my job is stuttering along. I'm not ready yet for retirement and would rather live a 100 miles further north when it happens. Until then I'll have to keep my close allegiance to the M1 for the journey north. At least the Peak District will be there, even if it's not sunny
Looking at downtown GreenCove Springs from the city pier. The perfect spacing of waves really looked neat to me.
Soundgarden - Black Hole Sun
In my eyes, indisposed
In disguises no one knows
Hides the face, lies the snake
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
And sometimes far too long for snakes
In my shoes, a walking sleep
And my youth I pray to keep
Heaven sent 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
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)
Won't you come (black hole sun, black hole sun)
Won't you come (black hole sun, black hole sun)
Won't you come
Won't you come
Writers: CHRIS CORNELL
Jill
blubbering’s not on her list
she smiles at even simple jests
the epitome of what we should be
to laugh, enjoy each passing day
though sometimes she can get the jitters
she stays calm and doesn’t stutter
though she tumbled and hurt her back
she’s not as careless as her partner Jack
/totomai
----------
PS a very old poem I wrote ;-)
As Walter adeptly hurdled the rainbow canoes in headlong flight from the deadly giant swans, he thought to himself, "When I get to the Frog King I'll stutter left, hesitate, and then go breakneck left all out."
The dapper Spotted Sandpiper makes a great ambassador for the notoriously difficult-to-identify shorebirds. They occur all across North America, they are distinctive in both looks and actions, and they're handsome. 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.
Colorblind by Counting Crows: This Desert Life
I am colorblind
Coffee black and egg white
Pull me out from inside
I am ready
I am ready
I am ready
I am
Taffy stuck, tongue tied
Stuttered shook and uptight
Pull me out from inside
I am ready
I am ready
I am ready
I am...fine
I am covered in skin
No one gets to come in
Pull me out from inside
I am folded, and unfolded, and unfolding
I am
colorblind
Coffee black and egg white
Pull me out from inside
I am ready
I am ready
I am ready
I am...fine
I am.... fine
I am fine
**********************************************************************************************
I have always loved this Counting Crows song---just everything about it really.
When I am driving around for work and listening to CC, I often visualize how to illustrate the lyrics with images. I have had this one in mind for a long time but , I guess I have been too lazy to take the images myself. I don't like coffee! So, I am grateful that I was able to find these wonderful and illustrative images right here on flickr. thank you!
1. black coffee, 2. balance
An old preacher will appear just before our last breath
Saying "Whoever believes the word, they shall not taste death"
Still we stutter and we stammer and we fall down on our knees
As desperate a real estate agent at the Salton Sea...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'd have to be at the end of my rope to take up residency at the Salton Sea...
March 27, 2025, Rondeau Provincial Park, Ontario, Canada.
Song sparrows have been regular visitors to the yard for the last 2-3 weeks.
This one took the opportunity to have a bath.
Melospiza melodiat
It perches on a low shrub, leans back, and sings a stuttering, clattering song.
Bears aren’t the only animals to see in Orr, Minnesota. On a quiet afternoon, my attention was drawn to the unmistakable stuttering drum of the yellow-bellied sapsucker. Yellow-bellied sapsuckers are the only sapsucker in the eastern portions of the United States, making them simple to identify once you note the difference between the regular rhythmic drumming of other woodpeckers and the staccato drumming of this bird. They earned their name from their peculiar characteristic of pecking holes just deep enough into the trees to cause sap to drip. They then lap up the sap and any entrapped insects. It’s a beautiful bird with a beat all its own. #YellowBelliedSapsucker
Anthem for Doomed Youth
by Wilfred Owen
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle ?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles’ rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them ; no prayers nor bells,
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, ―
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells ;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all ?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.
The pallor of girls’ brows shall be their pall ;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds
Location: Primitive Design-The Bunker
Pose: Niqotine
Gun: C-Tech Redemption mk 4.3
you know that's the motto
Drop a few bills then pop a few champagne bottles
Throwin' that money like you just won the lotto
We been up all damn summer makin' that bread and butter
Tell me, did I just stutter?
Hair: DOUX - Luca @TMD
Phone: hive // out and about
Jacket: Mimikri - Boyfriend Blazer
Costa Rica. Tarcoles River
'Grandma, what big teeth you’ve got!’ stuttered Little Red Riding Hood, taking another step back...
No lovely singing at the moment though…
www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Song_Sparrow/overview
A rich, russet-and-gray bird with bold streaks down its white chest, the Song Sparrow is one of the most familiar North American sparrows. Don’t let the bewildering variety of regional differences this bird shows across North America deter you: it’s one of the first species you should suspect if you see a streaky sparrow in an open, shrubby, or wet area. If it perches on a low shrub, leans back, and sings a stuttering, clattering song, so much the better.
The Song Sparrow, like most other North American breeding birds, uses increasing day length as a cue for when to come into breeding condition. But, other cues can be important too, such as local temperature and food abundance.