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.

Wait, You Were Using A Vibrator When You Were Pregnant? No Wonder Your Kid Has A Stutter.

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.

 

www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Great_Horned_Owl/id

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_horned_owl

 

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 ?

 

Stuttering - Fefe Dobson

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.

 

Higher resolution

 

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.

i loves my ghosties <333

 

we're hard asses.

 

yup.

 

just like mickey avalon bahahahha

 

For next to nothin'

Your soul could be mine

Now that I got your attention, look you dead in the eyes

If you're gunna make a move, let it be quick

Because the last mother fucker stuttered and got clipped

I stick and move like a dog in the night

Who proud but won't growl before I'm gun' bite

Street lamps light the way as I stray

Past the corner liquor store and the penny arcade

Juiced on bennys and hard lemonade

I boost so many sweets I've got tooth decay

Who say, that Mickey can't rock your life

I've been up for 2 days straight

and 3 nights

I wear my lee's tight

and tapered at the bottom

I bought them at the swap meet in Spanish Harlem

So if you got a problem

You know where I'm at

Lurkin' in the garden with snakes and gutter rats

 

At the end of the eve we

Roll up our sleeves

Mess with my stake and I'm gunna have to swing

So don't make nothin' more difficult

Blood starts gushin' when I kick your skull

 

At the end of the eve we

Roll up our sleeves

Mess with my stake and I'm gunna have to swing

So don't make nothin' more difficult

Blood starts gushin' when I kick your skull

 

With eyes on the back of my head after dark

I'm just a lone drifter on the lookout for a mark

I've got angles that'll tangle masterminds with heart

fuck it I'll even run a bum for his shopping cart

When I was young my father, rest in peace

Taught me how to pick a pocket and copy car keys

As a little boy I'd hop through chimneys

Skilled at the art of making enemies

So if you got beef

Better have good luck because

Even if you knock me down, I'll get up

And if you don't kill me

I'm gunna slice your gut

With a straight edge razor

Riddled with rust

Blood lust takes me over when I close my eyes

And look back over these jet black skies

My time here may be short along

So when I rhyme here I'm gunna light this on

 

At the end of the eve we

Roll up our sleeves

Mess with my stake and I'm gunna have to swing

So don't make nothin' more difficult

Blood starts gushin' when I kick your skull

 

At the end of the eve we

Roll up our sleeves

Mess with my stake and I'm gunna have to swing

So don't make nothin' more difficult

Blood starts gushin' when I kick your skull

 

What you lookin' at punk you don't know me from Adam

And you have the nerve to step on my chucks fuck that

I wasn't brought up to turn the other cheek

I'll break your mothers back, just for touchin' me

I crush MC's with line step line they're mute

Strangalin' triangles, spheres, and cubes

The day old leader throwin' jabs and slabs

Of meat, that hang on hooks and straight stink

Go play the clubs that love to dance

Where chumps step bump me as they walk on past

Avalon don't care none for breasts

Less they cook and clean and wipe my ass

 

At the end of the eve we

Roll up our sleeves

Mess with my stake and I'm gunna have to swing

So don't make nothin' more difficult

Blood starts gushin' when I kick your skull

 

At the end of the eve we

Roll up our sleeves

Mess with my stake and I'm gunna have to swing

So don't make nothin' more difficult

Blood starts gushin' when I kick your skull

 

My attitude is all fucked up and real shitty

Crazy ill mad rap

 

My attitude is all fucked up and real shitty

Crazy ill mad rap

 

My attitude is all fucked up and real shitty

Crazy ill mad rap

 

My attitude is all fucked up and real shitty

Crazy ill mad rap

www.youtube.com/watch?v=84ipebZotPE

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

 

View on black

(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.

UCLA, Los Angeles, May 2011

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

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."

wafting about at St Mary's Lighthouse

Nikon D800

Zeiss Distagon 35mm f2

 

Location: London

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

  

The Postmodern Jukebox version

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.

♫PLEASE LISTEN♫

 

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...

 

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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.

I wish I could say the robin wept for me alone

from his perch, but he sang for the whole

neighborhood, as twilight fell 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 robin 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

Chansonnier, and let us cry with you in sympathy,

 

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 vermillion, for this town

lighting itself against the night. Your orange 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 deO

 

Stutter

Stunning warm light falls upon the infamous Quindalup boat ramp right near Dunsborough on a particularly chilly Autumn morning.

 

Having arrived suitably early in order to scope out compositions it wasn't long until I realised the warm hiking boots had to go - I needed to be in the water. And so with my pants rolled up way, way too high, I waded in and started the careful "dance-of-the-tripod" in search of that perfect composition.

 

My dance was interrupted as the bright headlights of a car illuminated the jetty, just as I moved into the final stages of the dance - "shutter-stutter". Silly me - I'd failed to realise just how popular this boat ramp was with the local boaties wanting to get out into Geographe Bay. That first car was just the first of many more to arrive and launch.

 

So, with no shot and the sunrise light gaining awesomeness, I found myself backing out of the water, standing around on sand that was so damn frigidly cold you'd think it were ice. Who would’ve thought the water would be a more comfortable place :) Luckily I was able to work around all the movements and had *just* the perfect amount of time to wade in and out, over and over again (much to the happiness of my frozen feet), until I was able capture this little beauty. Worth the effort for sure!

 

Cheers, Bernie.

 

Nikon D800e

Sigma AF 50mm f1.4 DG HSM Art

4 vertical shots stitched in PTGui and then refined meticulously (and painfully) by hand :)

⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧

 

ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴍꜱɢ ᴍᴇ ♥

Updated (on 11 May 2016) news on the massive Fort McMurray area wildfire.

 

www.theweathernetwork.com/news/articles/weather-factoring...

 

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I am amazed that this photo came out like it did, as this female Great Horned Owl and one of her two fledglings were so high up in a tree and the light was fading. The original photo was very dark, but some brightening revealed this view of Mom feeding her hungry young one. Things seem to have happened so fast this spring and I missed seeing the two owlets balancing on the rim of the nesting tree. Also, I have been so busy that I think I've only been over to see the youngsters on three separate occasions. Looking on the more important side, this has meant one less person intruding on their area, of course.

 

"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.

 

www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Great_Horned_Owl/id

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_horned_owl

I have been spotting a large bird flying around a far-away tree on a different train than the one I usually take. Earlier I had three sightings. I don’t know why I never took that trail to find out if that bird has a nest there. Today I saw it and heard its call. It was evident that it’s a hawk. Once I spotted the source tree from where the call was echoing, I become disappointed. I could see the hawk, but it was sitting on a high branch of a tall tree against the background of the bright sky. Several branches were blocking the view. I waited for a long time for the hawk to make a move. Finally, I gave up and decided to find a better angle to avoid as many branches as I could. It is a red-tailed hawk (Buteo jamaicensis). I was hoping the noise of stutter might startle or annoy the hawk and make it shift its position. Apparently, the hawk didn’t care about a random human pointing something towards it. Once I reviewed the image on the screen, I saw the death stare. Who knows! Maybe the hawk was thinking of trying a different cuisine today!

The body stutters

Like a street dancer.

For a love of creativity

Into a sea of uncertainty,

Find the rhymes that combine

With what lies inside the mind,

That you unearth with delight,

The mind quakes for a taste

Of the cake,

that is blessed with greatness.

 

"Feeling Uncertain of the Curtains" by Marco Buschini

 

(Special thank you to my super amazing friend, Morgan, for the uber cool dance togs, for inviting me to have so much fun while I pull a hamstring, but mostly for the friendship!)

 

Pop over to Morgan's feed and watch us work on our moves!

Who won this round? For once, I didn't trip over my feet! (giggles)

Morgan

www.flickr.com/photos/morganwhitfield/46826092752/in/date...