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Seen along Bow River Calgary
The Spotted Sandpiper 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. www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Spotted_Sandpiper/id
I find my eyes go straight to the wide-open eyes of the biggest owlet in this photo. Be careful not to miss a younger one with just part of its little face showing above the nest edge : ) Somewhere, there is a third owlet that could not be seen just then - we only stayed a few minutes. I had only been to see these owls once before and at that time was only able to see one owlet. Maybe if/when I visit them again, all three owlets will be visible. Hopefully, I will see them again at a time when the light is much better, too.
That day, 31 March 2015, I went on a birding walk with a group of friends, to Fish Creek Park. When owls are seen, they tend to be the highlight of a walk, and on this walk we were able to see six Great Horned Owls, 4 adults and 2 young ones.
The other day, I posted a photo of Dad, who was sitting in a nearby Spruce tree, looking like he was fast asleep. As males always do, they perch and rest in a tree that has a good view of the nest, keeping watch over the female and the babies. Even though the male looks like he's fast asleep, he will be wide awake in a split second if anything, such as a Canada Goose, threatens the nest.
"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.
This photo was taken yesterday at the Inglewood Bird Sanctuary. It was yet another cold, very overcast day and I almost didn't go. However, I had not been out of the house for several days in a row and just needed to get out somewhere. The lighting was atrocious, and this photo is really bad quality, but I wanted to post it just for the record. I hadn't seen the owl at the Sanctuary for a long time.
"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
Many thanks for the morning walk, Janet and Bernie, and for lunch at the Blackfoot Diner/Truckstop. Just what was needed after a cold walk. I will add their final list of species in a comment box below.
As Roger Daltrey of The Who once stuttered…This Vespa owner at Vintage Stony looks a similar age to myself and it’s good to see someone celebrating those days in the 1960s. Scooters were great fun and I rode a Vespa with a fair amount of added bling - although not quite as much as this veteran Mod has on his! Happy days and thankfully we didn’t all die before we got old…
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.
Thank you, my kind Flickr friends, for visiting my site and taking the time to leave a comment. Truly appreciated!
Great Horned Owl
Great Horned Owls are nocturnal. You may see them at dusk sitting on fence 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.
1/500 sec @ f/6.4 - 552 Focal Length - ISO 800
For best view left click on the photo and see it better.
Thank you for your kind Comments, Awards and Favs.
IMG_8525r1
Like the Creole aristocrats lining the galleries of the Historic New Orleans Collection, the French Quarter is a timeless portrait – especially come dusk when swallows glide above the fortunetellers on Jackson Square and St. Louis Cathedral’s butter-crème-colored walls reflect the fiery sunset. Ghost tours troop past mad Madame LaLaurie’s mansion while neon signs stutter to life on Bourbon Street where syrupy red Hurricanes, slosh in famed ‘go cups’– those plastic tumblers responsible for uncountable curbside parties. Night falls. Horse hooves clop, music throbs and gaslights flicker in a place full of long-told legends and those waiting to be born.
Seen along Bow River Calgary
The Spotted Sandpiper 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. www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Spotted_Sandpiper/id
Suit up, and look 'em in the eye. It takes a steely gaze to watch it all burn down.
Another from my collaboration with Splatito8127 who is also the model here
I went to a completely different moorland today more than 10km from the place where I photographed a Cuckoo yesterday. And to my delight there were two male Cuckoos calling incessantly and chasing each other round. I managed to take quite a few photographs though mainly in flight as they hardly ever landed. I was particularly pleased to capture this flight shot against a land background.
There's an old English folk song about the Cuckoo that Paul Simon's song "April come she will" is loosely based upon. There are several variations but the usual one is:
In April come he will.
In May he sings all day.
In June he changes tune.
In July he prepares to fly.
In August go he must.
If he stays until September,
Tis more than the oldest man can remember.
The bit about changing tune in June is that they often begin to stutter Cuck-cuck-oo. And it is true that they usually depart in August, rarely being seen in September.
Walden Ponds Wildlife Habitat, Boulder, Colorado
From the Cornell Lab of Ornithology:
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.
and I am the fastest man alive.
Took a 8 sec. exposure of a Bus passing by. Micro stutter blur in the lights because the bridge was vibrating while the bus passed. I like the yellow stripe which could be the flash logo haha...
camera: Nikon F2AS
lens: Nikkor 50/1.2 AIS
film: Kodak Vision 500T (pushed 2 stops)
development: @film.speed.lab
scanner: Plustek OpticFilm 7600i + vuescan
edit: @captureone
Tripod
#kodak #kodakvision3 #nikon
#filmcommunity #analogphotography #filmphotography #filmcamera #filmphoto #filmisnotdead #grainisgood #35mmfilm #analoguevibes #shootfilmstaybroke #analogfilm #filmwave #photofilmy#photocinematica #cinematicphotography #streets_storytelling #nocturnal #night #longexposure #bus #bridge #flash #dc #speed #speedforce #superhero
Well, almost, lol!
On 23 April 2015, I went on a birding walk with friends at Carburn Park. On the way home, I called in to see the Great Horned Owl family for just a short while mid-afternoon, on 23 April 2015. The oldest owlet was still out on a coniferous tree branch that was right by the nesting tree, and the two younger owlets were still in the nest. I think this must have been the "middle" owlet, exercising those wings that were not quite ready for flight, with Mom looking on. Called in again yesterday, 2 May 2015, after a great, full-day birding trip south of the city. Dad was in a fairly nearby tree, and the two youngest owlets were still on the nest. Only stayed a few minutes and didn't see Mom and the oldest owlet. No activity going on at all - and there were no other photographers there.
"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.
Their given name has been used colloquially to suggest cowardice, but there is nothing about the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, or its activities, that would give the impression of faintheartedness. These woodpeckers of eastern North America have derived their name from their peculiar pursuit of tree sap. They peck shallow holes in the bark of trees and then sit, lapping up the tree sap and any insects trapped within it. Like most woodpeckers, they use drumming, in addition to vocalization, to announce their presence. But while most woodpeckers have a characteristic, uniform rhythm to their drumming, the sapsucker’s drumming is distinctively stuttering. It makes them easier to locate by sound. #YellowBelliedSapsucker
As Roger Daltrey used to stutter…
One I had to take at Classic Stony, being a massive Who fan back in the day. I even got to see them with the mercurial Keith Moon on stage - not sure my eardrums have ever recovered!
over the past three or so days, i've gotten less than 12 hours of sleep in total.
now that i'm reunited with my own bed, i don't think i want to sleep at all.
#223: sometimes, i stutter.
It's another overcast, dreary morning here today, 16 November 2016, with a temperature of -2C (windchill -5C). It would have been my oldest daughter's birthday today.
This photo of a Great Horned Owlet was taken on 6 May 2016, in a local natural area/park. Unfortunately, I had half a dozen errands to run before allowing myself to go out with my camera, so I didn't get there till late, and the light quickly began to fade. No time to look around the area for any other birds on this visit.
This beautiful owlet had been on the ground for a while before I arrived. There were a few people there and more came and went. However, I later heard that the owlet had been able to claw and flap its way up one of the trees and was safely out of reach of most predators. Meanwhile, the other fledgling had been very high up in a different tree, along with Mom. I'm glad I did call in at this location when I did, as this beautiful little owl gave us a few chances for photos when it was up on a log or down on the ground, usually partly hidden by the plants and bushes. I don't know how it ended up on the ground, but obviously it fell from somewhere or misjudged flying distance when it finally left the nesting tree. An interesting world for it to explore, though it wasn't very steady on its feet yet : ) In this photo, I think it was looking at the nearest big tree, knowing that somehow it had to reach it and climb up it.
Things seem to happen so fast this spring and I missed seeing the two owlets balancing on the rim of the nesting tree, exercising their wings before fledging. Also, I had been so busy that I only went over to see the youngsters a handful of times. Looking on the more important side, this meant one less person intruding on their area, of course, though I have to say that these owls are remarkably tolerant of humans. If a Canada Goose, on the other hand, should get anywhere near the nest or the little ones, Mom or Dad flies in for an immediate attack.
"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.
2 of my photos went explored and the amount of views and favorites on them is crazy for me! I also reached over 400 contacts today and I'm super excited about it!
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You seriously have to have no life in order to complete this challenge with good pictures. I've shut out a lot of people and I don't have any friends.. Its not like I have options to go make new friends because I'm home schooled so I literally just sit here at home, do homework, eat, sleep, and take pictures. I've always been a loner even when I was in school but at least I was around people. My social anxiety is horrible now, I can't even talk normally to people without getting nervous or stuttering. I know the only way to get over it is getting out and hanging out with people but I don't know how.. Maybe I can start doing tumbling or get into a club of some sort cause this is getting bad :(
211/365
4:30 - 6:00 am
Denver Cdo. Sept 2.
1968...alone
Let's see now... "It wasn't too long ago, but it feels like, years ago, since I've felt the warm hello of the Sun...lately things..." and then he was interrupted by the slow motion speeded up sound that sometimes cut so deep, that sound was from those chellophane typewriters...Exactly. Constantly from the south side of those carpets and but anyway Sweet Rome was on my mind. "She gave so sweetly..." And on he walked until after crowning Ethel the dog the Only Queen of ears, the sky cracked wide open and split many of his Brothers and Sisters heads all over the world apart at the approximately same... "That's law and order", said the Border Guard as his hard head weighted something like wet bread -- which to explain through brain rain as that's...well...Bro, is this here country all what much ahead?
And said the owner of the velvet horse who heard all this... "I just know that I'm going to get involved here" and slams the machine in Reverse, splitting both suns apart in doing so, probably. He got to Fantasy Fjords on the hurry up side and also can you dig... Oh Oh! watch that stick and judge your distance from that Blue Suede kick!!... (SWISSHHH KNOCK...!?!!..) Anyway...can you dig that something came by here not too terrible long at all...I was bathing my eye...just a 1000 foot above those same old tired skies and...you know, that sound there and after that, everywhere, Bathed me to a physical. And he Blurted out the sound burnt the side of his inner wall also passing by and the liquid rainbow melted EROS all through his rooms and rooms of ears that he was hiding from Ethel the Queeny. And he thumbed a lift from his head and heads straight to anywhere to tell his woman, the world; that it was physical...GASP.
And (the chellophane begins to crattle and crake) His old lady Terra Mama, Jumps in his face and says... "What's physical?!" and he stutters, smiles, and retaliates with...well...er, ah...what is music m'love? PUFF PUFF.
And they probably found out that it was.
by this time.
Jimi Hendrix
electric lady land -
TITLE: Letter to the room full of mirrors.
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.
Anthem for Doomed Youth
BY WILFRED OWEN
We will remember them and pray that we never let it happen again
Bigger, if you please. Are ashy feet aesthetically pleasing? I swear, it wasn't as bad as it looks...
Today, while I was taking that picture of my feet, this guy (with his friends) stopped in his car and asked me out. Being the socially inept girl that I am, I declined almost immediately.
What's your name?
McKenzie.
What are your taking pictures of?
Uhm.. .lots of things. I'm, uhm, I'm a photographer.
Hey, McKenzie... You wanna take down my number?
No. [giggle]
Aww, why not?
[silence]
C'mon, it'd make my day. I'm a good guy.
No. [more giggles]
To be fair, he caught me unawares. He did. He was cute and he caught me unawares. I didn't know what to do. So I declined. I was embarassed and I stutter a bit when I'm nervous. I'm glad he was in his car. I was probably starting to turn pink. And he disturbed me. You know that zone you get in when the world sort've fades out? I was there and he ripped me out of it.
His name is Jersey and he will be seeing me around. He will wear me down, he said.
Heh.
Well, I've always been a "no means try harder" sorta girl when it comes to being asked out... So we'll see.
Doesn't mean he has a chance, though. More like.. the chance of a chance.
Better Than Worse by Final Fantasy goes extraordinarly well with this photo... so should you like to listen to it, lemme know and I'll send it to you.
The story behind this man is unknown to me. This man, unfortunately had trouble speaking, he mumbled his words and stuttered. However, one thing I understood was that he had a woman's name written with ink on his hand. He said— it was his lover.
A Place Called Eden
The lone television plays,
to an empty room.
The talking head stutters,
so the people believe.
The world is a mess,
has it not always been?
The heroes and villains,
struggle on every block.
Yet is there not love,
and unselfish giving?
There is much to be learned,
and to be forgotten.
When the truth is white-washed,
and a scarlet sunset bleeds.
Then darkness will prevail,
till the first light of dawn.
When we resume our search,
for a place called Eden.
~Meru Groen
Jim Gordon closed the door to his office and hung his coat on the wall. The sun was just setting on Gotham City, but the Commissioner's work was only just beginning.
Stacks of paper littered his desk as he dragged his feet in exhaustion. It had been hours since his last cup of coffee, yet there were about four or five empty mugs on his desk. Grumbling to himself about the mess, he sat down in the dark room. The light entering from the West window was enough to mask the room in a yellow hue. He pushed some of the mess aside, only to start another one with a new stack of files.
A cold breeze waltzed across his cheek as he sat down. He wondered to himself if the repairman fixed the draft yet. The breeze met him once more, this time shuffling the blinds in the window. Gordon payed it no mind as he rummaged through files. Leaning back in his chair, he removed the glasses from his face, and cleaning them poorly with his button down shirt. Holding the frames up to the evening light, he checked for smudges. He sighed before returning them to his nose. Rummaging through more paper, Jim decided to clean his mess enough to keep sane. Reaching down, Gordon found a drawer to his desk open, and a folder was missing!
"It's been a long time, Jim" A deep voice spoke from the shadows. Jim couldn't pinpoint where the voice was coming from, but he knew who his visitor was.
Startled for only a moment, The Commissioner sighed again, then stood, pressing his knuckles down upon the wood of his desk. "You've got a lot of nerve coming back here." Jim said without raising his head.
"I came to return these...." A muscular arm clad in all black, held out a folder from the shadows. The folder was marked [BATGIRL] in bold red ink, stamped over the GCPD Crest. Jim didn't move.
The shadowed figure stepped into the light, and rested the documents on his desk. "I didn't know this would happen..." He spoke
"You... You didn't know?" Jim stuttered, struggling for the right words. "You're Batman for crying out loud, how did you not see this coming?" His eyes raised to see The Dark Knight. Only a few feet away from him and Gordon still struggled to see the full extent of his body.
"Barbara will be okay. ...She needs you to be there for her" Batman said without breaking eye contact. The two stone walls kept eyes locked on one another, before finally Gordon dropped his head in disappointment.
Batman's head turned to the west window, the yellow light still fading. "I think I found him, Jim” Gordon didn't respond. "She's a strong Woman. She's a fighter like you. She's made it through worse"
Gordon bashed the desk with his fist, "Don't you talk to me about her strength! Her endurance!” He stared Batman down once more, “Damnit Bruce! My Barbara won't ever walk again because of that... monster!"
"That only means we need to carry her."
"Don't take pity on me! You knew exactly what she was doing the moment she signed on with you!" Gordon came around from behind his desk standing face to face with The Batman.
"But you know what?” Jim pointed firmly in Batman's direction, “Keeping me in the dark about this was immoral! Sending a kid out at night, doing what you do, it's profanity!" Jim's whole body was tense now.
"I found him.” Batman spoke as calmly as before, “I found the Joker. Tonight, it ends."
"You'll do no such thing! You've done enough already!" Jim's voice raised, pulling his sidearm from his breast holster.
Batman backed into the shadow once more, "Don't try to stop me Jim." His voice coming from all around the room. Gordon could no longer see him.
"Batman!" Gordon shouted into the darkness "I'll never forgive you for this!"
"You shouldn't."
Batman's voice trailed off as the blinds on the window shuddered once more. Gordon aimed his gun quickly to the window, but it was to late. He was gone.
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These one-shot stories have been regularly accompanied by some kind of song, so here's something I felt set the tone quite well youtu.be/8-wIg90lagk
Thank you Hans Zimmer :)
So right off the bat (heh... puns) I'd like to say that this was pretty heavily inspired by some of Tim Lydy's older vignettes. Yes, I know I mentioned it before, but I needed to remind you. Like, I have flat out stole that window build from him *cough* flic.kr/p/gd6Bew *cough*
But yeah, I was really channeling some inner BTAS, so naturally who else to take inspiration from, than the guy who's practically built every episode in Lego at one point :P
There is a few other images of this build over on my Patreon, some even including Batgirl, plus Joker and Harley too!
___________________________________________
Do you think Commissioner Gordon's mustache is beautiful? Visit my Patreon to see early photography, behind the scenes images, and WIPs of upcoming projects, and we'll chat about his lovely lip hair :)
Today, 14 November 2019, I have just posted five more odds and ends of photos, from way back in my archives, instead of going through photos taken more recently. Mind you, I shouldn't be posting anything, as I have started (yet again) backing up and deleting photo folders from my hard drive, as I am pretty well out of space. Also, I will have to take my computer in as soon as possible, to get it changed over from Windows 7 to Windows 10, seeing as support/security for Windows 7 comes to an end in January. So, a fair bit of deleting would be a good thing to do before I take in my computer. Not to mention a good thing before my computer crashes! I have added the description that was under another photo taken the same day, 6 May 2016.
Yet another overcast, dreary morning here today, 18 November 2016, with a temperature of -3C (windchill -7C). The sun is supposed to come out this afternoon, which would be a really welcome sight.
This photo of a Great Horned Owlet was taken on 6 May 2016, in a local natural area/park. Unfortunately, I had half a dozen errands to run before allowing myself to go out with my camera, so I didn't get there till late, and the light quickly began to fade. No time to look around the area for any other birds on this visit.
This beautiful owlet had been on the ground for a while before I arrived. There were a few people there and more came and went. However, I later heard that the owlet had been able to claw and flap its way up one of the trees and was safely out of reach of most predators. Meanwhile, the other fledgling had been very high up in a different tree, along with Mom. I'm glad I did call in at this location when I did, as this beautiful little owl gave us a few chances for photos when it was up on a log or down on the ground, usually partly hidden by the plants and bushes. I don't know how it ended up on the ground, but obviously it fell from somewhere or misjudged flying distance and missed an intended branch when it finally left the nesting tree. An interesting world for it to explore, though it wasn't very steady on its feet yet : )
Things seem to happen so fast this spring and I missed seeing the two owlets balancing on the rim of the nesting tree, exercising their wings before fledging. Also, I had been so busy that I only went over to see the youngsters a handful of times. Looking on the more important side, this meant one less person intruding on their area, of course, though I have to say that these owls are remarkably tolerant of humans. If a Canada Goose, on the other hand, should get anywhere near the nest or the little ones, Mom or Dad flies in for an immediate attack.
"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.
I've been so in love
I stutter as my life unfolds
Don't ask you won't be told.
You broke the promise
I'm lying on the floor tonight
To dream of all those empty memories of singing on that carousel we'd ride together.
Hey Mother, hey hey Mother.
Why do you cry?
Tell me what the birds have said about my father.
Hey Father, what do you know?
"Lovers on the carousel won't ride forever."
I walk to the ocean.
I'm looking through kaliedoscopes to see the colors.
Don't say you "saw writing on the walls,"
If you believe that simple words will make a difference.
Sick sick my heart.
I want to die, so that I can stop this crying.
Explore.
Understanding that earthwork mounds of collected rocks (cairns) or soil and rock mixes (barrows and tumuli) date back to the 'Tells' or 'Tepe' of the fertile crescent, and the pre pottery Neolithic/epipaleolithic hinterland before reaching out through time to carry past the first examples of western Europe (for example the above long barrow/Tumulus allongé) and then through the ages of protohistory and into the early Medieval period with, for example Anglo Saxon tumuli of the 7th century AD. Was there a faint continuity as memory walked in ever longer circles from 9,000 ybp east to 5,000 ybp west, or should we look with an optic of a 'parallel evolution' of approximative form between the initial Tells and an ignition of the local area passage graves and giant cairns along the European Atlantic coast?
There are myriad ways to date artificial mounds as they shifted their 'footprint', silhouette and armatures over region and time. For this extended case study I will employ the term Artificial Pedestal landmark, looking at what went in, and what went on.
Strong Dolmens, tunnel like Allée couverte (passage tombs), wooden boxes, cists, basin stones (for cremated ash) and urn fields can all be found inside earthwork mounds at one point of time or other, as can 'unchambered long barrows' or artificial mounds without internal detailing. Today, there are clear example of dolmens without covering tumuli and I used to be among those who argued that the tumuli was optional. Understanding the ease of decommissioning a pagan site by removing its pedestal has tipped me to think that tumuli were the finished state.
At first glance, the interior dolmenic forms might seem to atrophie with time, which is almost true, were it not for certain grandiose allee couverte, and regional differences including megalithic-boat forms armatures and late initiation megalitism.
"The earliest long barrows/Tumulus allongé date to around 6800 ybp (Barnenez). The early passage graves generally date to between 4000 and 3000 bc, followed by evolved passage graves between 3000-2500 bc. In the later part of the Neolithic, allées couvertes and simple dolmens became the predominant type of burial monument. Some passage graves are decorated with incised lines, of which Gavrinis is probably the best known example." (Wiki)
Regarding the above Er Grah tumuli, it seems that for around 500 years, from 6500 years ago, the loci of this great tumulus stuttered and grew with modesty untill a burst into the current form that can be known as a passage grave or long barrow or tumulus allongé. Whilst the final length is said to reach 140m metres, much of the length seems to be an extended platform so potentially an atypical addition to envelope and qualify gathered onlookers whilst decorating the landscape with visual meaning: onlookers gathered to participate in culture (from religion to festivity and from ceremony to remembrance) with the sumit of the tumuli being the pedastle for the visual and acoustic elements and the secure chamber being the watertight hold for rare items of carve, weave, colour and peoples past.
Once landed onto its frame, a 'Transport Dragon' lowers its carriers to a crouch.
Protected by Heritage law in 1935, the site was an overgrown carpark by the 1960s: 'Simca Arondes' parked over the tumuli with picnic crums and 'Pouss Pouss' sticks. The site had also been used as a source for stone so its silhouete may never be known as removing stones in a systematic might exagerate and formalise the modest steps that report today.
If these early long tumuli are to be hypothesised as pedastles then a long feature that might benefit from being lifted into prominance needs to be qualified and this will be covered in future posts.
The tumulus of Er Grah is from an unthreaded cluster of rare megalithic giants. The Tumulus d'Er Grah (pictured above) watches the adjacent Table de Marchand (linked below), a giant megalith and yet just 100 metres away: which in turn sits aside the almighty broken-blocks that remain from the super giant menhir of Er Grah. Looking one kilometer away in the opposite northern direction, and the Tumulus du Mané-Lud hides its equally rare corridor and rooms. Four kilometres east and the Island of Gavrinis lifts its charming ramped tumuli and hidden corridor of sheer and preserved petroglyphic treasure; and a jog to the Quiberon bay and the 'Les Pierres Plates' hides its extraordinary double corridor behind a polite menhir topped by gull. The element that links this diverse cluster of giant cairns is Neolithic petroglyphic rock art, and the artwork is both themed and very divergent between these sites.
Elsewhere in Europe there are the famouse Neolithic Irish carvings of Newgrange circa 5200 ybp, and the plethora of rock art, often known as 'cup and ring', and found in regions of Spain, England, Portugal, Italy, France... For this schematic work, the upper date range warms into the Iron age and the lower range is often quoted as late Neolithic to Bronze age. These erratic carved outcrops are so difficult to date that one might suspect that some examples dive deeper into the Neolithic and even surprise with dates closer to the Locmariaquer cluster (or the Brú na Bóinne cluster) - but confirmation of an early surprise is waiting and as yet there are no stones I know of from near to the the date range of this cluster.
Stepping back, megaliths can show occasional and at times elaborate cup and ring style ornament and even carvings of tools, elaborate statue menhirs or schematic painted surface, but as a rule, despite these exceptions, the stone surfaces of dolmens, menhirs, curb stones and row stones are either raw or finished and nothing more. To have a cluster of megaliths with a range of carved inscription in a single local area is not the norm - a further indication that the greater area; between styles of bay, vigorous stream and endless sea, was a special place.
It can also be registered that the other cluster of Western European rock art from the early Neolithic, that of Brú na Bóinne (Newgrange, Knowth, and Dowth) was tidal in the Neolithic and the river Matock was vigorous enclosing the site with manifestations of the subject of water. The Irish sea was down river and the wider coastal mouth provided curb ornament of quartz and galle granite from a coastal length of around 130km.
AJM 11.03.23
19.03.23
This will be long but deserving.
They say there is always someone out there for you. Someone who touches your life and your soul like no one ever has. For me it's this gorgeous Princesa here. From the first moment I looked at her, I knew. I knew she was the one. I refused to acknowledge it at the time because we both were very destroyed by our pasts in that time, but fast forward some time later the way my body reacted was undeniable. My heart leapt in my chest in February. Tiny butterflies danced in my stomach at the same time I felt like I was free falling towards the ground. You know like when you go on a roller coaster and the first drop happens. But what really hit me was the way my breath pulled in my throat. It was instantaneous. I stopped breathing at the sight of her. And I never wanted to look away. It didn't take long for me to realize she was the one for me. Our time together has been a culmination of events that I couldn’t deny. I knew, if I didn’t love her before that moment, I fell over the edge into a bottomless ocean that was only for her. I knew I was never going back. So instead of speaking, I kissed her, hard. When my lips collided with hers, I wrapped my one arm around her waist, placing the other under her chin, pulling her closer. And her arms tightened around me an instant later. That was when I knew. With every cell in my body, every beat of my heart, I knew I found my home.
Regardless of where our paths take us, for me, her and I, that's how it was meant to be. She's not someone you just love the idea of, I love her for her and all that she is, and has yet to be. Whether it's this life or the next or the next after that. That's what my heart believes. We've been sparks and music, and she's brought me to life. Like a jumpstart beneath the stars. And suddenly, my heart beat once more. After so long of feeling like I was a burden in life, a lost cause, something that was broken beyond recognition, someone that could never heal or be the same ever again. She healed me, but at times also left me feeling terror. We were always in perfect harmony, and I lived in the moment like it could be our last. Because it could be but in my heart it was always her and I. That's how it was meant to be. We've been parts of a puzzle that fit perfectly together. Like the sun finally exploded into life and she became my shadow. Like she was the sun blazing in a cloudless sky. Then suddenly, my eyes needed to adjust, and I didn't mind because she put me back together, and I could only ever hope I was the missing piece in her life too. Because otherwise, I'm just a melody waiting for a broken chorus to turn me into a sad song.
There were many times my dreams have always been scattered. Stuck somewhere between what was, what is, and what could be. While I'm dreaming, I'm never really sure where I am until I'm awake again. Sometimes, the dreams can't stop soon enough. But others those special nights when I believe my dreams might actually be true. I find that I'm caught between two different worlds. The one that's real. And the one that exists beyond this existence. That's where I am when I'm with her. That's where I feel most alive. That's where I feel free because I'm with her. She makes life better. She turns the darkness I have around and chases it away. On days I thought I was going to crumble and the demons would lurk inside me, the memories would always haunt me, she made it better. It was worth it. It was worth it because this beautiful soul of a person made sure surviving hell was worth it because it brought me to her and I don't know where I would be if it weren't for her. For me the world begins and ends with her.
She caught my eye and I haven't turned my head since. It was like I opened my eyes for the first time and after a lifetime of dark, I could see light. It felt like coming home. Like I was already there. And I never wanted to leave. Even after all these years, I still catch myself in awe of her from the moment we became friends, to the first I love you's, and from the moment we fell in love. I don’t ever want what I feel to stop no matter where we both end up in life. I want us to always take a piece of each other wherever we end up. No matter what life it is I know I will forever be powerless to help myself and I will always want her. It was everything about her that caught me off guard. It was more than her beautiful smile, or the sound of her unguarded laugh. It was more than the brilliance of her eyes, or the way she saw me. It was more than the way she carried herself, or the gentleness in her touch. It was more than her mind and her creativity, ingenuity, and intelligence. It was everything. Before I realized it, she became my everything. And my heart was no longer mine because it was hers, and I couldn't stop myself from loving her. She became my forever home and she will always be that for me.
Today, tomorrow, and forever.
I had someone ask me once why would I want to be with her. I simply said something along the lines of, I cannot see it any other way, she is everything. When I think more clearly on it, the way I saw it really was, we might fall into each others orbits like a binary star or fully collide in a tragic and ineffable supernova of personalities; but I couldn't see us passing each other by-I have fully cross the event horizon of her gravity and I believe that she has been embraced by mine as well. Through the inexplicable refrain of our worlds mellifluous and meandering melodies, I have found in her the chorus to my verse and the bridge to my resolution. A song composed by fate using the notes that make up who we are-our shared curiosity tempts us to listen if we dare.
And I dare.
If anyone was to ask me what I loved most about her, it will take me a bit because physically, I love how fucking gorgeous she is, despite her own reservations about how she looks at times. I love her cute little nose, especially when she scrunches it up when she would smile at me. The things I would do to her nose... I love her naturally flawless skin; her plain face with no makeup is so beautiful. I love her beautiful eyes, despite her always using filters to hide their real beauty along with her face. Her eyes are so expressive, that I don't think she realizes how much she says with them. I could look into them all day and not get bored. I love her smile, always bringing light to my life and can bring joy even when at the lowest of lows. I love her tattoo's because they fit her so well and make her so much more attractive. I love the sound of her voice and her laugh, even though she hates both but it's so soothing to me. I love when she opens up and becomes comfortable with sharing her vulnerability with me. I love when she's brutally honest with everyone and sets anyone straight. I love how easily flustered she can get sometimes. I love when she turns into a brat and gets all pouty, all are the cutest. I love how hard she may seem to others but her heart is so very loving but only certain people get to see that. I love her sly looks she gives when certain things are said that annoy her. I love the way she tries to contain a laugh or smile on voice or on her stream but can't. I love when she tries to express feelings and has the cutest stutter and gets all giggly.
Honestly, there is so much I could go on about but personally, I love how warm, kind, and generous she is. I love how rare her heart is and that if you do right by her you may just get to see the sides not many get to see. She treats everyone equally until they give her a reason to see them differently. She's been through hell more times than most and I love how brave and strong she is to keep going after everything she's been through. She doesn't let single obstacles in her way to stop her from overcoming anything and forging her into the amazing woman she is. Not only that but the things she's faced that shaped her into being one of the best moms I ever had the chance to know. I know she is wracked with self doubt which adds to her cuteness to me but I only wish that one day she is able to see the amazing woman and mother that I have seen over the years. Behind all that her capacity to love is my most favorite but again not everyone gets to see certain sides of her which I love because that's what makes it real. That's what makes it and her, rare. Despite her always being the one to not be good at expressing these things when she does that is what makes her different from anyone I ever known and that's what makes me love her so much more.
I could go on and on for days, to months, to years about this little sunflower but I think I made it pretty clear. I'm writing all this in hopes one day no matter where she is at she can look back at this and remember despite her struggles, her moods she would always make being with her exciting and new every single day. To never doubt herself and think she is hard to love because I learned how to love her in any struggle, any mood. She could flip her mood on me to yell at me, swear at me, abuse me, degrade me, etc but I still would love her if that. I will love her unconditionally, forever and always. I'm not one to turn on someone I love or see them differently because of how they react to things. Everyone reacts differently to things and for reasons whether it be because of their present or past. I believe in talking through things to get to better solutions, not belittling anyone for their reactions. So I'd do anything to make things better when needed as long as who I am with is feeling secure and ok. That's what she will always deserve.
Relationships and sometimes even friendships are like tending to a garden. The more love and love attention you give it, the stronger and more likely the plant (relationship) will stay alive. But not all people are the same plants. Some people are desert plants that don't require much tending or watering. But some people are delicate little flowers who need more tending to. It's important to know what type of plant you and your significant other is, so you can cultivate your garden together. Relationships are only as successful as the amount of time and effort you put into them. So hopefully one day she'll get it all. Me always being attentive to her every need, yet giving space when needed. Leaving little gifts and notes places for her to find throughout the day to make her smile. Always making sure she is looked after before myself. Planning special things to make her feel special. Treating her how she should have been treated in all her previous relationships. To always take care of her and love her with all my being, never faltering, always standing by her, pushing her on, motivating her, being there when she is sad. No matter what I would be willing to do everything I could so that she didn't cry or be broken like all the other times. I'd sacrifice anything for her not caring what would happen to me as long as she was ok. These are all things I have done and would always do but I hope no matter what path she ever chooses that she is loved this way and only this way because she deserves nothing less.
With all that said, Lucipurr, you’re my heart and my soul in any life there is. You are everything I ever needed to know that being broken doesn’t mean that you have to stay that way. You see, you gave me hope. In those moments of desperation, you’ve been there to pick me up and dust me off. You taught me how to stand tall with my head held high and that I was deserving of everything good and to be loved. You were the only person to ever show me what that word really means and what it truly feels like to be loved the right way. You have no clue how much I adore you. No matter how much I tell you words will never capture my love for you and thanking you would barely cover what you’ve done for me through the years. I only hope I have been able to do the same at some point for you. I hope after all this you get it a bit more than the times I've tried to express things. I also hope one day you'll understand no matter where our paths take us that everything we have shared was real.
All the time I find myself
with empty lungs,
breath let out, chest stopped
in its rise and fall,
keeping time with the heart
when the heart stutters and stalls.
Here, in breathless places,
in spaces swelled with
hushed dread, in mental caves
where words echo unsaid,
here all the truth and lies
of the world wait, here
is where the lungs
snatch breath, once more,
and deflate.
Here the blood runs cold,
slowed to a stop-go beat.
Here we swear to not repeat
mistakes we've made before:
to look before the leap,
to let the heart build first
a firm foundation,
to coax a bit of joy into
every inhalation.
---
I was going to post something else tonight, but then I fell hard for this image. The poem seemed to follow from there... it's been too long since I've written one, so it seemed like time to do so.
Multiple Multiple exposure with Lomography's micro 4/3 experimental lens using the incorporated stutter instead of the in camera shutter.
About me : q.ennev.com/a
Herman's Pond, Rancho San Rafael, Reno, Washoe Co, Nevada (June 15th, 2018). 2. Large county park in NW Reno.
Male, engaging in the comical swollen-neck, tail-up bubbling/stuttering courtship display. The display is a quite striking one, involving beating the water into foam with the bill to the accompaniment of staccato popping noises and often ending with short dashes (4-5 ft long) across the surface of the water.
More shots of the bubbling display--
www.flickr.com/photos/fugl/35185735265/in/album-721576818...
www.flickr.com/photos/fugl/39828318910/in/album-721576818...
www.flickr.com/photos/fugl/50941115392/in/photostream/
More Ruddy Duck photos--
Despicably Rotten Scoundrel
My thanks to everyone who has helped me with ideas in writing this story. You all know of whom I speak.
The opening scene is a formal charity ball in Scotland, at the seaside town of Clachtoll.
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Despicably Rotten Scoundrel
“I’m not really wicked, just written that way…!”
A pickpocketing female thief’s rather despicable and rotten tale told from her perspective….
“I’m not jealous, just an opportunist.”
^^^^^^^^^^
I do love a good old-fashioned charity ball.
It’s a place where rich twits, sorry, guests love to show off their finery, flaunting the fact they are wealthy enough to be invited to donate a bit of their easily earned, or given, cash. Also wealthy enough to be shorn of some of their wealth by other, shall we say, less proper manners.
Now, it’s true that there are mostly adults at these types of charity things.
But they also have a tendency to doll up their younger sons/daughters and bring them along to pretty much just display them. The poor dears are usually bored and desperate to be noticed. Which works to my advantage.
A bit of juicy, easy ripe pickings on the side with usually some surprisingly profitable results.
And then there are the parents and other adult guests, who once they have imbibed enough, become subtle and compliant enough for my fingers to do their task of acquiring their more valuable adornments
And I never thought of pickpocketing as right out stealing, preferably thinking of it as teaching a life lesson to those foolish enough, or young enough, to present a vulnerably easy target. And earn my living in the process.
But why the soliloquy one may ask?
Well, the last time I attended such a function I deliciously petted away a pair of pearl necklaces, a single and double strand, from two very different but equally gullible, charming quite young ladies who were attending a grown-up Ball for the first time. Their pearls fetched a surprising value.
One was in soft velvet the other was in sleek silk-covered chiffon. Both were easily woven into my web.
At the same affair, I also lifted an expensive diamond brooch from a wealthy lady as well as two fat leather wallets from a pair of tuxedo-wearing gentlemen.
But then I attracted nosey official notice and had to make a hasty exit. Blimey, a girl’s got to make a living.
And now here I was, a year later, standing across the street from yet another charity ball in Scotland. Smoking a leisurely cigarette as I watch the rich ladies' attire flowing down elegantly beneath furs and satin evening wraps of the mostly female guests pouring into the venue.
I spotted a group of younger ladies dressed elegantly in a collection of silks and satins, no wraps. They were off to the side smoking and chatting away amiably. They appeared to be an accepting lot, and I instinctively saw them as an acceptable way to camouflage my entrance.
I crossed the street and walked up behind them close enough to get a feel for the manner of conversation. They were all Scottish judging by their accents. Being Welsh myself I was hoping they would jump at the opportunity to talk with a newcomer to the area.
They were, and soon I was in with them thicke as thieves. Which was rather fitting.
The ball was in full swing by the time all of my adopted group decided to enter the establishment and I waltzed right in with them, easily escaping the notice of two security bulls who were keeping an eye on the entrance.
Once safely inside I made an excuse to leave them, promising them I’d catch up with them again. A promise I meant to keep for they were wearing some really lovely jewellery, and once they had drunk up a bit, should make them easy marks.
I licked my lips with anticipation over that future activity.
Once I broke away I circled the perimeter of the massive hall, watching the dancers in the middle. Looking out for an opportunity of any sort.
By the bar, a pair of young men were chattering away, and I pushed myself between them as I passed through. Easily lifting a gold watch from one of the tuxedoed pair.
I then spied with my little eye an elegant lady wearing taffeta, placing a solid gold compact inside her small pearl-handled white beaded clutch purse. I stood near bye, and as she bent down to adjust a strap on her high heel, I walked past and snatched the purse up, hiding it in my own larger purse.
I walked quickly off in another direction.
Then my heart stopped as I spied a young lady sitting at a table alone watching what I assumed were her guardians dancing.
What made it inviting was that no one was watching her.
In a chair next to her hung a luxurious sable, too valuable to trust in hat check.
Laying upon the chair was a small silvery clutch purse, worth quite a bit by my scrutiny. The girl was holding a purse of her own, a pretty, small satin number with rhinestones. Too expensive to pass up.
She was fidgety, either bored or needed to use the loo.
I walked up to her.
“Hello, luv.” I said as she looked up at me with a happy cherub face, glad to have someone to chat with.
“Aye Miss, halo. ” she answered with that darling soft accent that the young scot lassies all seem to have.
She was pretty, wearing a gold sequined blouse with long sleeves and a high collar. A long black skirt sleekly poured from her waist, held there by a gold belt with a large rhinestone clasp. Her long red hair was down hiding any jewels she may be wearing in her ears. Around her neck though, was a twisted strand silvery necklace with 5 real diamonds hanging down in a v shape at the necklace’s centre.
“You’re such a cutie I murmured reaching around and lifting her hair from her backside and running it through my fingers, eyeing her dazzling earrings set with real diamonds…and how they were set in her earlobes. They are old fashioned hinged clasped twins, valuable. My mouth drools over this discovery, for it could be child’s play to lift them.
She squirmed gleefully at my praise.
“Thank you, miss.”
I laid my hand on her shoulder, feeling the ultra-soft material of her blouse. I caressed my fingers along her sleeve.
“Your outfit is quite smashing Lass.”
With a woeful tone of voice she admitted:
“This was my sister's miss, I wanted a gown of my own, but papa said to wait till next year, and then I can wear real makeup!”
I petted her along the sleek backside of her blouse.
“You’ll look beautiful then I’m sure. As you look now, without makeup. And speaking of beauty, that darling purse you're holding is rather pretty. Is that your sister's also?
She shook her head no, the diamonds at her ears and throat erupting into frenzied sparkles. She held the purse up.
“Father Christmas brought it.”
I reached down and touched its exquisite satiny material.
“Very pretty. Something to take care of, especially tonight.”
Possessing the same curiosity of youth that needed me pearls last year, she bought into it, asking…
“Why tonight miss?”
I leaned in and explained.
“A lady had her purse stolen a little while ago, right from her table. The police are looking for him. You may want to put yours somewheres safe until he is caught. “
She looked at her purse worried, not sure what to make of what I had said.
I place my hand reassuringly on her elbow and pointed down to a purple silk-lined pocket of the sable.
“There miss, place it inside the pocket. No one will see it there.”
She obediently bent over to do so, while I placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, petting the delicious gold-colored material that covered it.
I looked around making sure the coast was clear, saying to her….
“Oh, and the other purse as well.”
She reached over to the table and picked it up. My fingers moved into position. As she leaned over to put it inside I easily undid the simple hook and circle clasp of her necklace and pulled the dangling piece from around her throat and slipped it inside my pocket in a blink of an eye.
She turned and looked at me with wildly opened concerned eyes.
“Oh. I’m sure they will catch him soon. Then you can take it back out. But for now, your purse is safe, as well as your sister’s”
She shook her head, earrings again flicking an expensive dance. But nothing glimmered where her necklace had been.
“My sister is not here miss. . She’s in France. It’s just me ,mum and dad.”
I knelt between her and that chair that held the gorgeous sable cost.
“Oh, please point them out to me.”
With young obedience, she surveys the crowd.
As she searched, and as I watched her face, my hand was feeling along the rich sable, reaching inside the sable coats’ pocket and pulling out the two small purses, placing them into my own, now sitting on the floor.
Her still-searching eyes lit up and she said…
“There they are…”
She was pointing to a rather handsome couple. The father is in a dark black tux with a black satin vest. Her mum was sumptuous in a long black satin gown with rhinestone trimmings. She was displaying a rather delicious set of diamond jewellery. My fingers itched, but I had done enough here.
I squeeze her shoulder, rising, as she again was becoming mesmerized by watching the dancers. Her earrings were tempting me, and I will admit I tried forcing myself to pass them by, but…
“Must take my leave sweetie, charming to have met such a pretty girl.”
She answered, keeping her eyes on the dance floor.
“Thank you, miss.”
I went in front of her and knelt looking into her doe-like wide green eyes.
“I think you will look positively lovely next year in your gown. I think you should wear your hair up.”
She smiled at me as I lifted up her silky hair.
“Thank you miss, I’m looking ever so to it, hopefully, I can wear one like mums…”
As she said that, my fingers were expertly caressing off the jewels dangling freely from her earlobes with a very practiced stroking touch of my own.
With her earrings clutched in my hands, I told her I hoped she would, and looked towards her mother on the dance floor.
She looked also and as she was I plopped her earrings in my purse and took leave.
I then hurriedly made my way to the bar for a drink and a breather. I had meant to pace myself this evening and not repeat my mistake from a year ago.
I mulled over my drink, watching the crowd, admiring the pickings they wore or carried. The drink and my delicious thoughts took their effect and I realized I needed to urgently use the loo, sorry, powder my nose, as the wealthy ones would say.”
I headed inside the nearest one and found one empty stall remaining. It was then a large group of women came in and gathered around the sinks and side tables waiting their turn.
I exited and with practiced quickness, looked them over, eyeballing a few plump purses, and the rings and bracelets that adorned the wrists, fingers holding them. I focused on an ornate diamond clip worn in the blonde hair of a young lady dressed in black velvet, my fingers tingled. Licking my lips I yelled…
“Mouse, there’s a mouse in my stall!”
In the ensuing panic, I forced myself into their startled midst as I hurried to leave. Bumping into the velvet-gowned young lady, she tripped and started to fall, as it was playing out, my hand snaked up through her hair easily whisking out the startled young thing’s fancy diamond clip in the process.
I made the door and left. Marveling at how easy that score had been. The fact that the flashy hair clip had been the only jewel probably allowed to be worn by the young lady did not faze me a bit.
I walked around the outer rim of the room, basking in the clever way I had nicked that expensive diamond clip from the unwary young victim.
It was then, in a side alcove of couches and comfy chairs, I spotted the group I had come in with. Already going on with drink-induced chatting and giggling. All very touchy-feely and huggy
I was all in for a bit of that action, seeing a multitude of opportunities for my fingers to be employed with.
I grabbed a tray of drinks that was sitting waiting for one of the waiters.
Took it over where it was well received by this group of wealthy young ladies.
And soon was again in thicke with them, laughing and doing some touching of my own upon their softly, expensively, attired figures.
I easily lifted fat wallets from two unguarded evening purses, before deciding to up my game.
One of the ladies, Trish, dressed in a silk dress with a nice diamond drop pendant and an even nicer gem-filled bracelet was telling a story that I wasn’t paying any attention to. What I was paying attention to was the other 3 dames in the group. All three dolled up in satin gowns with some very nice jewelry set with gemstones that matched the colors of their sumptuous designer gowns.
We were all huddled very close together around Trish to listen in to her captivating gossiping story told in a whisper.
They were not watching me.
I was holding onto one of the listening broad's blue satin gloved hands, managing to slowly work off her cocktail ring, a large sapphire surrounded by diamonds.
As we all put hands to our mouths to gasp over a particularly juicy bit of Trish’s story I placed my hand up along the backside of another listener's sunset-red taffeta gown.
Reaching for her necklace I undid the clasp, then waited until another highlight of Trish’s story had us all leaning in closer before slipping the ruby set gold necklace from around my victim’s throat without missing a beat.
Trish finally reached the climax of her story and the ladies turned toward each other and started talking about it over.
I just smiled the said.
“Really. That’s quite a delicious story.”
Though I still had no clue about her babbling.
But as I said that I place my left hand on the diamond-clad wrist of her right hand, over her vulgarly pricy bracelet. She put her other hand on my chest. I swore she was coping a feel.
She chirped...
“Isn’t it a riot, really I cannot believe it happened.”
As she said that, looking earnestly for approval in my hazel eyes with her heavily mascaraed blue ones, I squeezed her wrist, undoing her diamond bracelet and lifting it into my palm.
Transferring the bracelet to my pocket. I picked up a drink and chatted with them for a good ten minutes.
I finally found an opportunity to bid them adieu.
I received hugs all around. As I hugged Trish, my fingers nimbly undid her pendant and I slipped it off as her friends began yet another conversation.
Trish was in a hurry to join in so I had a very easy time of it.
I headed back out the hallway, finally letting out my breath, to have a smoke and take a well-earned break as I decided what to do next.
This patch was proving a gold mine, but have I had my run?
That would be a big No, to my run of luck being over that evening!
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
As I headed out I passed one of the rental guards. He looked bored. I noticed his open handcuffs attached to his belt.
I went up, acting tipsy, and placing my hand on his shoulder winked at him
“Happy to see you on the job.”
As I told him that my other hand lifted off his cuffs, mainly because I take a fancy to acquire anything shiny.
I then head out to the exit.
A man and lady are on the ground by the stairs smoking right under a ‘no smoking sign.
They did not appear to be a couple.
The male is wearing a fitted suit and what I considered a power tie, smoking a long thin cigar. I can tell he is wealthy by his silver Rolex and a fat wallet.
The man is randy ,obviously hitting on the girl. Not successfully I might add.
He eyes me with flirty interest.
I eyed the girl.
She was an early 20ish model of the type one would call mousey. Very tipsy and coy. I was surprised she wasn’t coming onto the bloke's advances.
Emilie, the girl, was wearing a fitted designer dress of gold satin with rhinestone trimmings. She was sporting a nice collection of expensive gold jewelry, pouring all along her body from ears, neck wrists, and hairpiece. She had no less than 5 cocktail rings that flashed rippling out along her fingers as she smoked.
I had the inkling, mainly by how she carried herself. that she may have been wearing gold jewelry this evening, but she also owned and could have been wearing diamonds. But gold did not interest me. Her diamonds would have.
So I found myself wishing our randy male fellow smoker would chase away the girl so I can relieve the git of his deliciously tempting expensive watch.
I pulled out one of my two lighters, the round one with no fuel, and unsuccessfully tried to lit my cigarette.
The male whose name was Sebastian, leaned over to light it for me and I nimbly picked his wallet.
The rental cop just then stuck his long nose outside the main door.
Looking down upon our small group he lectured
“‘Ere no. No doing that there. Take your business to the park yonder.”
He went back inside.
Sebastian sighed, giving us both a look. Sensing, incorrectly I might add, that neither of us are interested in him, he tossed the nub of his cigar and followed the guard inside.
Since I had just started my cigarette I crossed the street. The girl followed me, gaily chirping in my ear
“ That’s probably the only thing the guard is allowed to do, and thank you for saving me from that bore Sebastian. “
She pulled out a cigarette and asked if I had a light. I hesitated, then pulled out my square lighter and easily lit it. She guided my hand to her mouth. Her eyes were looking int mine, exploring. I felt her fingers subtlety caress my wrist.
It just may have been in gratitude, but that’s not what I read in her eyes.
Now I don’t lean that way, unless it’s to my benefit. Her gold jewelry now did appear to me to be one, a benefit I mean.
“Thank you she whispered coyly.”
Your welcome I said, taking up her hand and purring how pretty she looked this evening. Which was no lie, on several levels.
Yes. I dolled myself up pretty well she said. Her fingers wrapping around mine.
“I think you look lovely also..” she complimented me with a shyness I found almost as fetching as her gold necklace.
I had read the signs correctly, now if only I was right about everything I had deduced about her. My mind already wrapping around a plan.
I let her pull me to her. I could feel her perking breast’s running scintillating along my own through the thin material of my dress. Her breathing became deeper.
I responded by spitting out my cigarette and clasping my hands behind her and digging my fingers into her hinny.
She squealed with delight. Her own cigarette tumbling from her thicke red lips.
She went onto her tippy toes and planted a kiss upon my mouth. I responded by adding my tongue to the party.
She raised her knee up between my legs and began massaging my sweet spot sending prickly waves of pleasure through my entire being. Though my real center of pleasure lay upon her gold jewels and the way they were delightfully shimmering as she played along with my figure.
I raised my hands around her back. My leg went up as she stopped. Feeling it there she began to rub along it. Exciting herself.
Running my fingers to the back of her throat as all of my marks attention was on pleasuring herself, I had the pleasure of undoing the clasp of her three-strand gold necklace and lifting it from the front of her dress to behind her back and into my fist.
She whispered.
“There’s a playground up on the hill “
I answered, startled at how husky my voice was coming out
“ A playground, I like the sound of that. “
I let her lead, my hand wrapped around her silken waist. Holding tightly onto my prize.
^^^^^^^^**
Reaching the deserted playground,
We embraced, sucking and kissing passionately
I sat her on the bench. Had her lie down.
She giggled as my hands went up underneath her dress, and silk slip. I then discovered why she was giggling, she was not wearing panties.
My fingers delved inside past wet hairs and probed as she arched her back in ecstasy. She spread her dress open, revealing plump breasts striking inside her thin gold satin brocade patterned brassiere. She managed to undo it and flung it onto the grass. Then began to massage her naked breasts, rings sparkling, solid gold bracelets glinting. Her exposed breasts cooled in the misty air.
My free hand went up and joined in with her fun. Her rings were pleasingly digging into my flesh as I dig deeper into hers.
She was moaning with deep guttural primeval pleasure. Her whole figure is on electric, lava-hot fire.
Then shrieking so loudly it echoed, in a flash of seething back-arching ecstasy, she came….
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Later we sat on a bench smoking. She was basking in delight.
“So happy I met you…!” she said cheerfully.
I intentionally didn’t answer.
She looked up into my face.
“I know this is cliche but want to go to my flat?”
I looked at her, then looked over her remaining gold jewelry. It was calling out to just take me, as I answered her question...
“Gorgeous, simply Gorgeous. Oh I’m going to you flat Luv , but alone!”
She looked at me confused, trying to think through her horny drink-induced haze just what I was prattling on about.
I pulled the cuffs from my bag.
Going around behind her I raised her arms, she was totally pliable. Not really registered what I was holding. I pulled her arms behind the bench. Cuffing around one wrist, I cuffed the other end to a metal leg set in concrete.
As I looked into her eyes I saw they were starting to spin and sure enough, she passed out, for whatever reason, fear or just physically spent…
I checked her pulse, she wasn’t dead, just in a cold dead faint.
I began stripping the sully Lass of her remaining gold jewelry. Pulling out her earrings, undoing her hairpiece, and unfastening her many bracelets. Then methodically working away, I sucked off her rings. And finally, I unclasped a gold ankle bracelet.
Picking up her purse I found her address and the numbered key to her flat. I left her surprisingly mock designer purse on the bench. But emptied her wallet, discarding it on the ground.
As I checked her over for any missed valuables I thought of giving her a little more pleasure, but decided I was better off just letting her sleep it off.
Walking quickly out of the playground I cut to the opposite side of the park.
Hailing one of the parked cabs I gave him her address. Using her money to pay for it when we got there.
It was in a very posh neighborhood, I licked my lips wondering if I was right to be expecting diamonds somewhere inside her flat.
As I enter the block of flats I see a well-dressed man unlocking the door next to my victim's numbered door.
I say “Ello” and he jumps.
“Thought you were my wife.”
I had moved closer spying a fat wallet bulging from his pocket
I purr saying cheekily:
“No, wish I was, did you lose her now?
“Ah, here she is, found her now didn’t I.”
I turn. My eyes bugging out. I forgot all about lifting wallets as I saw his wife come inside, dazzling like some ornate overfilled display case at Tiffanies.
She was wearing a deep blue brocade patterned silk dress with flashy sapphire rhinestones adorning the neckline and waistline.
Her hazel eyes had been masterfully made up with black eyeliner and blue mascara. She looked like a picture actress from a Telly show.
She was wearing a stunning set of sparkling sapphire and diamond-encrusted jewellery. A full array, hanging from her ears, neck wrists, and fingers. One ring was especially flashy
Perched on her head was a short diamond studded tiara.
I had seen many tiaras this evening, but none this close to my already trembling fingers.
At the rather daringly low cut of her gown hung a very expensive sapphire/ diamond brooch successfully stealing away the prominence of the lady’s beautifully plump breasts.
She floats up to us.
They are both happily tipsy and introduce themselves as my new neighbor.
They both ask if I would like to join in for a nip, or a nightcap.
Bird in hand I thought. Let this one go.
I smile at the pretty pair
“Rain check please I need my beauty sleep.”
I give them both a hard look over, openly relishing the rich attire, and beckoning trimmings, of this clueless couple as they bid me farewell and go inside their flat
Then with those succulent imaginings, I use the key to my victim’s flat and go inside to rob the joint.
I waste no time, heading directly to the girls' bedroom where I knew the good stuff would be found.
Finding the bedrooms down a corridor, I go inside the master room and methodically begin with the contents in the drawers of a large oak wardrobe, feeling through satin, silk, and lacy undergarments. I find a velvet case holding some nice pearls and empty them into my purse. Then felt along some prickling soft dresses and gowns, being rewarded with finding a gold broach and diamond pin for my efforts.
Knowing there has to be more I check behind the many pictures on the walls.
Finding one, a painting of ‘Twelve Sunflowers by Vincent Van Gogh, set on a hinge that, when opened, exposed a wall safe. Expertly I place an ear to it as I work the tumblers, finding the combination quite easily.
Opening it I see several items. An old, loved Teddy Bear, a bundle of letters tied with ribbon on top of some photos, an oblong box that looked strikingly like the one I keep my vibrator in, and more importantly, three thin velvet-covered cases. Pulling out the largest case. I opened it.
My eyes opened wide, like a child who has been visited by Father Christmas. I had found her diamonds. A nice full collection of sparking “ice” that I quickly let slide into my purse. The others two cases contained evening jewellery also. One was a nicely ornate set of 24 Caret gold and the last was a set of glittery sapphires. I empty them all quickly.
Time enough later to drool over the nice haul I was taking.
I left the safe open and lifting my now very weighty purse, started to leave her bedroom to make my escape.
But then I spied it… and a naughty thought entered my head.
Sitting on a hook in a shadowy corner was a new dress, not yet taken in for a fitting. A short sleek black satin number with a sassy low-cut top, ribbed waistband, and above-the-knee hemline.
I go over and admire it. On a whim I slip off my dress, then undo my bra, to try it on.
Brilliant, it fits me like a hand in a glove.
Going back to the wardrobe, still wearing the dress, I pull out a small satchel and dump its contents on the floor.
I place my bulging purse inside, then neatly fold the dress I had been wearing and place it on top. Adding my bra also, relishing the feel of the material upon my naked breasts.
I also snatch up a pair of silver rhinestone-adorned high heels I had admired and place them inside also.
I headed out, more than satisfied with my evening’s haul, I had every intention of planning to call it a night.
But, as I was leaving the flat, I see my victim’s new neighbor, the man, as he is locking the door.
Putting the key in his pocket he turned and spots me standing there.
I gave him my best foxy smile, asking in my best new neighborly fashion
“We’re you off to in such a hurry luv everything, all right? Didja Lose your wife again?”
“So sorry”. he apologized in a high voice. not questioning why I was now back out in the hallway in a different dress, though his eyes went down to take a brief study of my breasts, then my legs gracefully sticking out from the dress’s shamefully high hemline.
He answered, obviously flustered on several levels.
“It’s a bother I need to go back to the restaurant, my wife left her bloody expensive purse there.”
A fish hooked, now to play him I thought as he walked up to me.
“Hope you not too long. And about that nightcap, knock on my door first when you get back luv.”
I reached down and began fingering his John Thomas, I gave it a good wank, finding the boy was already hard.
He was not displeased by my copping a feel, in the least.
He stuttered, before dashing off.
“I, I h’have 30 minutes to find a cab and get there before it closes.”
I smile. My hand was on his room key which I had lifted from his pocket.
^^^^^^^^^^
Flipping the keys in my hand, I went to the outside entrance and from a side, window saw the husband catch his cab.
“Bully,” I thought, that gives me 45 minutes, more than enough time.
I carefully walk down the deserted hallway and reach the flat of the friendly, wealthy, couple.
I carefully pry open the door and have a look and listen.
There is no one in the main room, which is unlit. It all appears to be the same layout, though opposite, as the flat I just burgled.
I carefully close and lock the door and slip into the shadows, my eyes adjusting, aware that I am running against the clock.
I hear movement from the area I know is the flats’ kitchen. Then the light clicks on. My objective, again, is the master bedroom’s wall safe. I’m hoping the Wife had had enough time to slip into something more comfortable and put her jewels away in the wall safe.
But I needed to take a look.
I took a peak in the kitchen. I could see her figure moving about. She was still wearing her gown…and jewels. I would have to deal with that later. But first the safe. From a reflection, I saw her Mascara was askew. They’ve been naughty tonight.
I move over to the small corridor off which lie the bedrooms. I see the master bedroom door is slightly open. Candlelight flickered out from the bottom, dancing along the polished oak wood floors.
Reaching the door to the master bedroom, I open it, slip inside, and lock the bedroom door behind me.
They have indeed just moved in. There were several traveling cases of various sizes. Shirts, trousers, and ties hung on a corner stand. In another corner, an oil Landscape painting was on the floor under the closed wall safe, waiting to be put up. Next to the safe was a large double tigerwood wardrobe.
I continue to quickly survey the rest of their room.
From the opposite side of the room, the candle was lit on a vanity reflected in the mirror. Something glittered. Shiny I thought.
I go over and see several 14k gold and silver necklaces, bangle bracelets, and rings all laid out in a heap inside an open case.
Suddenly I hear the door knob rattling
“Luv. Your back? You’ve got the chambre door looked”
“Chambre is it?” I thought. Pretty fancy for a flat. Even an upscale one like this.
Dropping the small satchel I go over to the door. Tapping on it I unlock it and stand by the wall so I will be behind the door as it opens.
The wife swished in, unknowingly talking to her still-absent husband in her heavy lowland Scottish accent.
“Guid lord laddie, sneaking about on myself are ya now? Well I….. umpph ?”
I had snuck out from behind the door, gripping her from behind, one hand on her mouth cutting off her sentence, the other pointing a finger in the small of her elegantly attired back like I was holding a pistol on her.
I hissed Into a diamond dangling ear.…
“Okay my pretty bird, this is not your husband, but a thief. You know what a thief does, now dontcha?”
She nodded weakly and I felt her figure go limp.
“Good, now not a sound out of you. Go and sit on that stool yonder,”
As I guided her, she went obediently to the oak vanity stool. As we passed a spot where more of her husband's ties hung, I whipped off a handful.
I pulled out the stool and she sat down facing the vanity mirror, giving her a clear sweeping view of the master bedroom behind her.
In the reflection of the mirror, she saw me, recognized who she thought I was(new neighbor), and looked at me with sad, large puppydog-like, questioning eyes.
I quickly, perhaps a bit roughly, pulled her hands behind her and tied them up using her husband's neckties. Then, using the same, I bound each ankle to the front legs of the stool.
“Now lady, where’s your husband?”
Tearfully she lied in a pleading tone…
“Not here, but he is coming back soon.”
Of course, I knew better, but I said…
“Then I’ll take my chances.”
She started to say more, but I cut her off by gagging her with a blue-striped Etonian Club tie that went well with her blue mascara.
Again in her ear, I whispered sternly.
“Going to be a good girl now, aren’t ya Lass?!”
She gave me a feeble nod yes.
I look down at the open case of day jewelry.
I reach in and begin scooping out the contents into the satchel as she watches and quivers in uneasy discomfort.
I knelt beside her.
“Okay my pretty one, time for you to take some weight off, time for me to trim your feathers.
She balked as I ran my fingers, intently, up along her gown, my fingers scintillating with the feel of its soft material.
Ignoring her muffled pleas I reached up and yanked out a long gem-studded pierced earring from each ear. I dropped them inside the satchel at my knees.
Then facing her, smiling with wicked intent, I unclamped her heavily jewel-laden necklace and let it slide down between her fear-perked breasts before reaching in deep and after a bit of fondling, finally fished out. I plopped it on top of her earrings, where it lay sparkling with intense fire.
I moved behind her, watching her watch me as I worked off her wide sparkling bracelets, dropping them onto the necklace, then I sucked off each of her rings, spitting them out into the growing pile inside the leather satchel. The last one, the big one I had admired, I left it in my mouth and looked at it in the mirror. My victim shuddered. I spit it out onto the glistening pile inside the satchel.
In the reflection of the mirror, I carefully watched her reaction, as I also watched my hands, snaking around feeling along her voluptuous bosom. I groped down along the pair of pert beauties, finally reaching down below her ample breasts, and unfastened the stunning brooch she had been so daringly wearing out, begging all evening to be stolen by any thief-minded observer.
And it was now mine!
I said as much to her, and she squirmed at my sneering words.
“Sweetie, you have probably no idea how much interest you generated amongst thieves like me when wearing a brooch like this out for an evening. I could barely pay attention to my dinner at the restaurant we were all at. I’m surprised you did not lose it earlier, but then, that’s my luck for tonight.”
I pocketed the brooch. This was too special to lose.
“Okay princess, now your precious crown..!”
I stood up and played with her hair, running my fingers through her silky locks I reached for her shimmering diamond-encrusted tiara and worked it out.
I placed it carefully in with the rest of my newly acquired jewelry collection.
Then I placed my head on top of her own and looking at her in the mirror pulled down her gag. I then said to my hapless prey.
“Let’s have the numbers to the safe pretty bird.”
She shook her head
“It’s empty. My jewels are still in the bank she pleaded.”
I cooed into her now naked ear.
“Liar, your eyes are a dead giveaway. “
I smiled at her reflection with a very pernicious look before continuing:
“But, even if your eyes were wrong, I’ll still be having a look won’t I now luv. I live to be looking at the insides of safes, empty or not. It’s a quirk of me own”
She shook her head no again.
I sighed. Redid her gag, picked up the delightfully 2/3rds full satchel carried it over to the safe.
Putting my ear against it and worked the tumblers. With the practice I had with the other flat’s safe, I had it opened in no time.
Inside was several healthy bundles of £ notes and five velvet-covered cases. I stuffed the notes into the satchel. Pulling out each case I opened them finding my eyes almost blinded by the assorted jewels they contained as the candle lite played over them. I would say that each case contained £75,000 worth of gems. A very nice haul.
As I emptied the last case I threw it on the blue satin cover of the king-sized bed and looked at my victim, thoroughly wilted down.
I said to her…
“What’s in there?”
Her eyes opened wide looking at the spot along the wall I was pointing to…
Chuckling I went to the double wardrobe I had been pointing to, and opened it, seeing a fine collection of my victim's clothing. Including gowns of every color and type of rich material. I looked them over, selecting a rather sleekly pretty one of blood-red satin with the diamond rhinestone trimmings that outlined the gown's bosom and waist, a design of the sort that always catches my eye.
Watching my hapless victim, I placed it against my figure as I looked at her, and then as I slid my fingers up and down its sensuously fine length, I admired myself in the mirror.
“Well my pretty one, it needs taking in, but I can make it work.”
I placed it gently inside the satchel, which I then closed up.
Then I thought pearls, they always have pearls?
Deviously I abruptly snapped out a question, though I suspected I knew the answer.
“Where are your pearls lady!”
She jumped at my sharp words, her eyes involuntarily dropping down to the shelves at the bottom of the wardrobe.
I knelt and began opening the shelves and once again found my fingers swimming through some rather luxurious silk and satin underthings.
Why these rich twit females think that places like their lingerie drawers make for an excellent place to hide their valuables will always be a mystery to me.
It was in the bottom drawer, underneath some long dress slips, where I found not one, but two cases that when opened I was pleased to see contained two sets of quite lovely pearls.
I held one necklace of pearls, a double strander, to my throat where it lay prettily down along my black satin dress just reaching my own delightfully perked naked breasts, and admired it in the mirror, seeing my victim slump down even more in despair.
I dropped the necklace into the satchel, quickly followed by the rest of the cases gleaming contents.
I then walked over with the satchel and standing above her lied to her reflection in the mirror...
“Okay pretty bird, lastly now, where’s the delicious evening purse I saw you with at the restaurant tonight?”
Wide-eyed she tried to tell me, words muffled by her gag, that she didn’t have it, forgotten it there hadn't she now.
I said to her, tweaking her chin:
“I believe you this time luv, ….Toodles..”
Then left her there, tied up in her bedroom.
^^^^^^^^^^
I headed down the hall and peeked out the outside door to the corridor.
Seeing it was empty I went out, locking the door behind me.
Going to the flat of my first victim I tossed the key inside and left the door unlocked.
Sighing with relief, I headed out.
^^^^^^
As I leave the complex of posh flats I see a cab coming down the street.
I quickly move into the shadows.
The cab pulls to the curb, and not surprisingly, my victim’s husband exited the cab.
I stay hidden in the shadows as he hurries past me unseen.
As he went inside the door, I slip from the shadows and jump in the back of the very same cab he had just exited, startling the driver who was a tad bit reluctant to take on another fare, that was until I waved a £50 note in his face.
I let out a deep breath as we drove off.
I was on pinpricks for the whole drive, though it was less than 9 kilometers away.
I had the driver drop me off at the hotel across from the one I was staying at this week.
I went inside, snuck out a side door, and when the coast was clear, crossed the street and walked into my hotel.
In my room, I picked up my already packed bags( a precaution I always take before leaving my room in case of the need for a quick getaway ), put on my leather jacket, and headed down to the front desk.
For during the ride here in the cab I reasoned to myself that tonight it would be a good idea to promptly check out of my hotel and take the first early morning train to…anywhere far away.
Which is exactly what I did.
So, on a roll of the dice so to speak, I took the train to my next adventure.
Her next Adventure:
“A Nefariously Rotten Scoundrel”
Fini
I am so very grateful for dear friends who will drop everything at the last minute to help this crazed man with his silly ideas.
Slow moving truck with its hazard flashers blinking crosses the tracks on Navy Drive, Stockton, California.
Night, available light only.
Reprocessed and replaced, September 2024.
Watagans National Park, New South Wales, Australia
Contact me on jono_dashper@hotmail.com for use of this image.
I cant stop thinking about you. You are contantly in my mind. You make my heart beat every so fast. You make my lose my apetite. You make my stutter.
You make me feel in love....
______-
so, a little twist on the stuff i normally do, but i think i like it =P and im 85% pleased on the way it turned out =D
Oh, and during this session, i found out how hard it is when using the self timer to get just the right shot xD
This is from when i covered my room in newspaper for the ballet shot =P
xoxo
:0 this has over 2000 views =0 i cant believe it!
Yesterday morning, I went on a birding walk with a group of friends, to Fish Creek Park. When owls are seen, they tend to be the highlight of a walk, and yesterday we were able to see six Great Horned Owls, 4 adults and 2 young ones.
The owl in this photo is a male, Dad to three young ones. We only saw two of the babies yesterday morning - this was the first time I had seen two. I had only been to see these owls once before. As males always do, they perch and rest in a tree that has a good view of the nest, keeping watch over the female and the babies. Even though this owl looks like he's fast asleep, he will be wide awake in a split second if anything, such as a Canada Goose, threatens the nest.
"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.
High above the streets of Metropolis, Superman floats gracefully above the city. People bustling to and from their destinations, Cars honking at bikers in the road, steam rearing from manhole covers. Birds fluttered atop the skyscrapers, cooing as they greeted one another.
He can hear it all. The brake pads on an old taxi down on 11th Ave, a mother soothing her child after a long afternoon nap seven blocks away. Even the sound of exasperated breathing, from a shop owner hiding under his checkout counter. He could hear feet shuffling, a few murmured demands, a cash drawer open... and the sound of a slide being cocked back over a loaded gun!
He could hear the gun fire, as he instantly flew it's direction! Seconds later he was outside the small store, it was as if time was slowed. Superman floated in gracefully as the bullet trudged closer and closer to the shop owner. Superman landed softly, stepping through the doorway, a hooded gunman was aiming towards a cowering older man, a bullet was mid-flight between the gun and the man's heart. Superman walked calmly up to the heated projectile. Reaching out, he plucked it from the air without the slightest hesitation.
Time returned to normal as he turned to the shop keeper, “It's okay now” He spoke sternly, giving a small smile. “Are you hurt?”
“Uh gee uh... wow...no, I guess” The owner stuttered in a loss for words. His tense body relaxed significantly as Superman turned to the gunman. He was barely legal to own that weapon, Eighteen, maybe Nineteen.
He stood there stiff, still aiming straight at the store counter where superman stood, but shock cascaded over his face. He lowered the gun slowly, and began to cry.
“I'm so sorry...” tears welled up as the boy dropped the firearm “Superman, I'm sorry...”
“I'm not the one you should be apologizing to, Son” Superman said taking a step back letting the two characters see eye to eye once more. Silence fell onto the room, their heartbeats slowed.
“Com'ere,” Superman gestured with an open arm, inviting him to the counter. The boy shuffled under his arm and hugged Superman tightly. “My Mom... she's sick...” The boy sniffled, “I just want to help her...” He looked up to Superman, then over to the Shopkeeper “I'm... I'm sorry.” The boy emptied his pockets of wadded Twenty's and two rolls of quarters.
“My wife...” The shopkeeper said, stepping closer “She knows a doctor. She could get her to take a look at your Mom...”
Superman grinned subtly as the boy released the vice-grip from around his waist to lean against the counter to talk with the shop owner. The three talked for what felt like hours. Later, an officer came by at Superman's request to take the boy home.
Before leaving, Superman took the boy's handgun from the floor and crushed it into the size of a golf ball, tossing it into a trash bin as he exited the shop. He slowly floated back into the sky, and the sounds of Metropolis found his ears once again. He smiled. No one got hurt today.
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Okay, let's set the tone...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=EngKxF3Cqh4
Oh man, it feels like I'm the last kid on the block to get this fig! Adam's Indestructible Hero is a fantastic figure!
Superman is far overdue for a new look, seeing as the first, and only time Lego had made a Superman fig was from 2011. The planned N52 costume from The Lego Batman 3 video game never saw the light of day, and I was pretty bummed about that. So obviously when Phoenix Customs announced their figure based on Jim Lee's design, I would be an idiot not to buy one :P
This fig also came with a starched cape with an 'S' symbol printed on the back, but for artistic purposes I left it out, substituting a sponge-y cape to give this photo just a bit more fluidity with the invisible breeze I image when I look at these photos.
Also, thinking about it now, this could almost be a sister piece to Gotham in Red... flic.kr/p/FfLKRJ
Oh and like always, there is a bunch of cool bonus stuff over on my Patreon, including some different set-ups to the fig and the lightning, and a side by side comparison of the original photograph to the completed image you're seeing here :)
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If you think this photograph is worth at least a dollar, check out my Patreon to see early photography, behind the scenes images, and WIPs of upcoming projects!