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Having lunch at Camden Market, this Starling came to join us at our table, clearly knowing there would be scraps!!
At the end of the loch in Clais Fhearnaig, which was my lucnh spot for the day, is this dreamy waterfall. Lovely sat there, out of the wind, in the sun with the water bubbling over the rocks.
Four dice in a row each showing 4 on their face, with four ones on top, reflected 4 times in a mirror.
Getting up one very frosty morning, I found this amazing structure about 2 inches high, growing from the birdbath. Completely round it looks like a frozen tornado, or whirlpool.
From the summit of Mither Tap on Bennachie, we have this fine view across the snow covered winter plateau towards Oxen Craig (the highest point on Bennachie and our next destination) and Craigshannoch to its right, our final port of call for the day. You can see at lower levels to the right though, how there is no snow at all.
I'm so obsessed with the way this top and this eyeliner look together! I'm glad I put this outfit all together hehe..
Credits:
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-Hair: ItGirls - Miami Hairbase + Ponytail @LEVEL
-Brows: IVES - Zaira Brows
-Liner: Keikumu - Geranium Liner @Flora
-Top: BTTB - Kort Shirt
-Shorts: ROULY - 501 Vintage Denim Shorts @LEVEL
-Fishnets: ROULY - Hung Up Tights
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-Pose: Versuta - Kaee Pose Pack @KawaiiProject
-Backdrop: Versov - Saint Honore Background
Michael Martin Murphey
♫
Sometimes it's the smalllest of things and the smelliest that can really mess up a good plan.
Wanna send out a special thank youi to my friend Alsatian Kidd for helping me out on this shot. This was our first collaboration and what a super nice guy and so wonderful to work with. Thank you so much Alsatian Kidd.♥
I'd also like the thank my friend Morgan Talbot, who came over from the Talbot Ranch to help us out in a pinch. Thank you Mr. Talbot!♥
This capture was taken at gorgeous Snowy Monverdun
HMM-- the piece itself is just under 2 inches tall and this is a portion of it. need to refresh my memory before i decide whether or not to choose this for the HMM topic of glaze...... but it's SO pretty!!
After making it up to the ridge we now follow this deer fence up to our first sub-summit of Broom Hill, then it's a small climb from there to reach Pressendye.
Pressendye is just a small Graham of 620 meters (2034 feet), but a 15 Km (9 mile) circuit definitely stretched the legs.
Descending further back into Glen Derry the rain is approaching fast up the Glen. I've left the bike just a little outside the plantation of new trees so I've a way to go yet.
Taken at Cave of the Mounds in Blue Mounds, Wisconsin USA
A fascinating tour. The caves stay a comfortable 50 degrees all year. An amazing place for tourists to visit.
A very old and well preserved courtyard outside the kitchens of King Henry VIII at Hampton Court Palace in London
What a nice topic for the week? Science and photography... two of my favorite things. :)
For the subject, I searched on directional freezing mentioned in the discussion to produce the clear ice. This was my third attempt as the previous two did not go well (good bye exploded cherry). Hahaha.
I built a DIY container with cut plastic bottle wrapped with aluminum foil to allow only one side to freeze. I used barbecue sticks and nylon string to hold the strawberry under water because it floats all over. The small piece left in the photo was supposed to be at the back part but the strawberry spun around while floating. Oh well.... :)
The explosion looking effect and the red streaks going upwards was not an intentional effect. I think the strawberry got squeezed while freezing and there are air inside being pushed outwards. I used a yellow background to emphasize this.
For the lighting I used a strobe from the front which actually reflected on the ice. I was chasing against the melting subject so did not have time to find the right angle to take away the reflection. Oh well again... :) hahaha.
I really enjoyed this weeks topic. I hope you guys like the pic as well. Thanks in advance for comments and faves. HMM!!!
A tree stands above its compatriots with the backdrop of Pressendye, our target for the day, in the background.
Pressendye is just a small Graham of 620 meters (2034 feet), but a 15 Km (9 mile) circuit definitely stretched the legs.
Red Squirrel (Sciurus vulgaris)
Taken in the back garden above the feeding station on a cold damp day but still managing to look cute..
Supongo que este lema, no es un tópico al uso publicitario ... Tiene unas certeras bases ya que en la realidad ,desde el aire la isla de Bora Bora Parece una ostra con su perla en el centro...O será porque lo más valioso, monetariamente hablando , es el cultivo de la perla negra.
Capricho apto para pocos bolsillos. Este atolón coralino de forma acorazonada tiene los cielos que pintó Gauguin y siempre aparece un arco iris, en algún momento del día ...o en varios.. , aunque sea pequeño e imperceptible como es en este caso. Se pueden observar en la obra del pintor, los elementos del folclore de la isla, las cosas que veía, intentando ir más allá de ellas. Su paleta se enriqueció con colores puros y cálidos creando un vocabulario personal y un estilo lleno de simbolismo y gran fuerza expresiva tal como la Polinesia misma!
A line of glass marbles reflected in a mirror, refracting the spotted background within their glass interior. The background, to reveal a secret, is a cheese grater ..
The square hole in the wall is a sheep creep www.oughterardheritage.org/content/topics/sheep-creeps
Dartmoor, Devon, England
So the topic for the calendar 2024 is the evening mood in the mountains and showing people are living there too.
So here Eiger, Mönch and Jungfrau catch the last sun rays as the small train rattles by.
P.D - Vien Set @ Kinky
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Liberty%20City/43/127/32
TAOX TATTOO UNISEX - Sleeves Never Fail
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/TaoX%20TaTToo/115/128/35
VOBE - Valentina Necklace
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/VOBE/110/148/510
B(u)Y ME: Barbie . Pose
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/BuY%20ME%20POSES/171/70/27...
Body- eBODY REBORN
UNCOUNTABLE is the topic for Monday 16 April 2017, Group Ouzr Daily Challenge.
every year in spring millions of wild growing daffodils bloom in the Olef Valley. A unique show!
Jedes Jahr im Frühling blühen im Oleftal Millionen von wildwachsenden Narzissen.
Ein einmaliges Schauspiel!
A long weekend in London sees us staying at this hotel, with fine views of St. Katherine's Docks on the Thames and City of London beyond.
❖ Canción: www.youtube.com/watch?v=9HWfcsmITls&ab_channel=SonyaB...
Desde su llegada a Novigrado, Alastor y Eidel empezaron a llevar una vida humilde como granjeros, vendiendo sus cosechas en el mercado. No obstante, las peleas entre ambos fueron en aumento, pues su compañero se mal acostumbró a enfrentarse a algunos civiles y montar escenitas en la plaza, llegando a ser conocido como el granjero follonero.
Para colmo, aparecieron nuevas amenazas en la ciudad, las sirenas. Sin embargo, la peor pesadilla que sembró el caos en la ciudad fue la aparición de una pandilla de payasos asesinos liderada por un tipo que se hacía llamar Hijo Bastardo. Si Eidel pensó que nada podía empeorar estuvo equivocada, pues Alastor empezó a llegar muy tarde a casa, incluso con golpes, algo que la elfa empezó a llevar mal. Para colmo, estuvo a punto de perderlo al haber sido herido de un flechazo en el pecho por un altercado en el muelle relacionado con las bandas criminales.
Debido a los acontecimientos que azotaron sus vidas como los asesinatos en la ciudad y el poco dinero que ganaban, la relación de ambos se torció y Eidel abandonó la granja para irse a casa de su madrina y el ausente Jacques, en la ciudad.
Gracias a un nuevo brujo, que empezó a estar muy vinculado a su madrina, empezaron a verse involucrados en sucesos relacionados con la pandilla de Hijo Bastardo, llegando a recopilar entre todos unas pistas vitales para descubrir su verdadera identidad. Lo que Eidel no tuvo en cuenta, es que Alastor guardaba demasiados secretos y se vio obligada a usar su magia contra él para descubrir el por qué de tantas incoherencias y mentiras, descubriendo que su excompañero era el mismísimo cabecilla de la pandilla de payasos asesinos.
La fatídica noticia destrozó a Eidel y decidió enfrentarse a Alastor e invocar un hechizo para dejar una marca a fuego sobre su piel. El símbolo sería permanente y escogió la imagen de un payaso en su pecho como castigo y recordatorio.
Tras ello, Eidel se sumió en un trance depresivo, estando encerrada semanas en su habitación de la universidad de Novigrado, incapaz de procesar la realidad. Había estado conviviendo con un asesino, el supuesto amor de su vida, y no comprendía en qué momento llegó a dejar de ser Alastor para ser Hijo Bastardo.
Pasadas las semanas, la elfa descubrió qué mafioso manejaba realmente a esa pandilla, el banquero fanfarrón de Novigrado. Alastor había sido su estúpido peón que, movido por la codicia y la promesa del dinero fácil, cayó en su red y trabajó como su secuaz olvidando todo rastro de integridad y compasión hacia sus víctimas. Eidel sabía que no podía arriesgarse a denunciarlo, pues había topos en la misma guardia que podrían advertir al banquero, por lo que ella, Eyra y su hija recién nacida seguramente serían las primeras en caer a manos de los matones del mafioso.
Era tal el dilema, que la elfa decidió marchar de la ciudad hacia Nilfgaard, a mejorar su control del caos en la academia de magia Gweision Haul, conocida como un lugar de prestigio y disciplina. Se marchó junto con su perrita Pandora dejando atrás aquella ciudad llena de promesas que solo trajo desgracias a su vida y a la de Alastor.
Eidel se prometió que una vez lograra ser una gran maga volvería a acabar con la mafia de Hijo Bastardo.
Sin embargo, los acontecimientos no fueron como esperaba y, pese a formarse como una talentosa maga, sus planes se torcieron y se vio obligada a huir de la academia. ¿Quién iba a imaginar que una vez entrara iba a convertirse en una mera herramienta a las órdenes del emperador? Estaba harta de aquel lugar que se había convertido más en una prisión que en una academia, controlada y vigilada a todas horas.
❖ Canción: www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Z160MQeIL8&ab_channel=Nichol...
Febrero, 2027.
• Invernaderos: Clase Herbología
—¡Qué horror!— se quejaba Vivian mientras su mandrágora chillaba enloquecida. Era tan fea... y arrugada. Suerte de las orejeras porque sino fijo que se hubiese desmayado.
La Gryffindor de segundo año sabía la teoría, pero en la práctica era pésima sobre todo porque detestaba esas clases prácticas. Al menos esas horrendas criaturas tenían propiedades curativas y devolvían a los petrificados a su estado original ¿Pero por qué no dejaba de chillar? ¿Querría que la soltara? Algo se le escapaba y es que Inar le había estado ayudando con Herbología a cambio de que Vivian le ayudara con Mitología e Historia de la Magia, pero la joven Fairchild no le había prestado mucha atención a su compañero.
—Corre, debes trasplantarla a otro macetero, tiene frío ¿No recuerdas lo que te expliqué?— advertía Inar de lo más animado y soltando una risa al ver a Vivian tan agobiada. Parecía ser que el joven Castle empatizaba bastante bien con las otras criaturas y sabía entenderlas, algo de lo que carecía Vivian.
—¿QUÉ? ¡NO TE OIGO!— gritaba la rubia mirando con pura aversión a su mandrágora mientras sus orejeras le impedían escuchar los consejos de Inar.
♥ CRÉDITOS ♥
Pelo: tram / J0616 hair (HUD B)
Traje/Túnica: [LoPo] / HoL Ladies' Robe
Orejeras: Moon Elixir / Sasha Earmuffs
Bufanda: FATEwear Scarf / Harry (Desert)
♦ Visita en secondlife ➤ MischiefManaged: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/patronum/85/136/1004
For Macro Mondays theme – 06/29/15: „Seeing Double“
Last week I shot this image without knowing about this weeks topic for Macro Mondays. This morning I saw the first shots in the groups pool here on Flickr. I thought that this image would fit nicely into this weeks topic. I hope you like it!
Strobist info: I used two YN560III. One was facing towards the background and the other one was pointing at the subjects.
❖ Canción: www.youtube.com/watch?v=393tFa9ry6w&ab_channel=Mauriz...
—Que es puta, pero ante todo una dama— le susurraba Kat a Eidel discretamente cuando hablaba acerca de Muriel, la meretriz de la ciudad.
Katerine Dior era la sastre más famosa y perfeccionista de todo Oxenfurt. Una mujer delicada, menuda y estirada como los cuidados moños que lucía, aunque también igual de graciosa. Era famosa por su espléndido trabajo con las mejores telas de exportación y una costura exquisita, además de su discreción máxima.
La modista era de costumbres. Sentarse en la mecedora para coser, ir a la posada a tomar su copita de vino y su plato de torreznos, regar las flores de su jardincito y, ante todo, era una tierna mujer que no acostumbraba a los gestos cariñosos y le gustaba guardar las distancias. El caso de Eidel era el contrario, era efusiva y cariñosa como la que más, quizá demasiado para el gusto de Katerine.
—¡Que muchacha más asalvajada!— se le quejaba escandalizada a Muriel nada más conocerla —Es un poco asilvestrada como su animal...— decía en referencia su perrita, Pandora.
Sin embargo, por mucho que quisiera ocultarlo, y pese a aparentar una formalidad y modales exquisitos, la costurera adoraba a Eidel.
La señorita Dior era de las que se ponían rígidas cual palo de escoba ante la efusividad y afectos de la elfa o cuando su perrita se colaba bajo sus faldones. Pero aunque Kat se empeñara en ocultarlo, en realidad esa elfa se estaba haciendo hueco en su resguardado corazón.
Pasaban las mañanas conversando en el puesto de la panadería donde trabajaba Eidel o pasaban tardes tomando té en la salita privada del burdel de Muriel. Karerine se empeñaba en convertir a la elfa en una señorita y Eidel se dejaba aconsejar por la sastre que con el paso de los meses se fue convirtiendo en una gran amiga.
En ocasiones Eidel se sorprendía al descubrir nuevas facetas de ella.
Los repentinos arrebatos de ira y pasión de la contestataria sastrecilla, la voz del pueblo, no dejaban a nadie indiferente. Era una de las que más se preocupaba por el resto de ciudadanos y sus habituales frases eran tal que así:
—SOIS UNOS COBARDES, DAD LA CARA A ESTAS POBRES GENTES— vociferaba Katherine hacia los guardias del cuartel alguna que otra mañana, uniéndose a las rebeliones.
—¡¡A MI LA GUARDIAAAA!!— reclamaba como mujer de armas tomar.
Eidel al principio manifestaba una perplejidad absoluta, sorprendida por la reacción de la costurera, para nada la imaginaba con tal carácter. Sobre todo cuando estaba acostumbrada a sus formas delicadas y elegantes como cuando saludaba y se aproximaba con elegancia con sus clásicos saludos:
—Muy buenas tardes, señoras mías—.
En resumidas cuentas, esa mujer era digna de recordar. Y pisar Oxenfurt sin haber tratado de profundizar en ella, era igual que beber agua toda una vida sin haber catado nunca un chupito de anís.
I decided to take a quick selfie before leaving my lunchspot and pusing on for the summits of Carn an Tuirc & Cairn of Claise .. as you do...
This bike trip takes me to the summits of two Munro's, Carn an Tuirc & Cairn of Claise. Carn a Tuirc is at a height of 1018 meters (3339 feet), while Cairn of Claise is sightly higher at 1062 meters (3484 feet). It took me four hours to drag myself (and my bike) up there, but because of the bike, it took less than an hour to get back to the car. Total distance covered was 26.5 kilometers (16.5 miles) and starting at 370 meters, I had an altitude gain of over 700 meters (2296+ feet) - that was a big one!!
Museum in der Kulturbrauerei
Dauerausstellung „Alltag in der DDR“
The Museum in the Kulturbrauerei is a museum of German contemporary history.
The permanent exhibition deals with everyday life
in the German Democratic Republic (1949-1990).
Thema: Bergbau / Topic: Mining
IMPORTANT: for non-pro users who read the info on a computer, just enlarge your screen to 120% (or more), then the full text will appear below the photo with a white background - which makes reading so much easier.
The color version of the photo above is here: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/ticino-best-photos-of-southern-...
THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO:
So far there's only been one photo in my gallery that hasn't been taken in my garden ('The Flame Rider', captured in the Maggia Valley: www.flickr.com/photos/191055893@N07/53563448847/in/datepo... ) - which makes the image above the second time I've "strayed from the path" (although not very far, since the photo was taken only approximately 500 meters from my house).
Overall, I'll stick to my "only-garden rule", but every once in a while I'll show you a little bit of the landscape around my village, because I think it will give you a better sense of just how fascinating this region is, and also of its history.
The title I chose for the photo may seem cheesy, and it's certainly not very original, but I couldn't think of another one, because it's an honest reflection of what I felt when I took it: a profound sense of peace - although if you make it to the end of this text you'll realize my relationship with that word is a bit more complicated.
I got up early that day; it was a beautiful spring morning, and there was still a bit of mist in the valley below my village which I hoped would make for a few nice mood shots, so I quickly grabbed my camera and went down there before the rising sun could dissolve the magical layer on the scenery.
Most human activity hadn't started yet, and I was engulfed in the sounds of the forest as I was walking the narrow trail along the horse pasture; it seemed every little creature around me wanted to make its presence known to potential mates (or rivals) in a myriad of sounds and voices and noises (in case you're interested, here's a taste of what I usually wake up to in spring, but you best use headphones: www.youtube.com/watch?v=AfoCTqdAVCE )
Strolling through such an idyllic landscape next to grazing horses and surrounded by birdsong and beautiful trees, I guess it's kind of obvious one would feel the way I described above and choose the title I did, but as I looked at the old stone buildings - the cattle shelter you can see in the foreground and the stable further up ahead on the right - I also realized how fortunate I was.
It's hard to imagine now, because Switzerland is one of the wealthiest countries in the world today, but the men and women who had carried these stones and constructed the walls of these buildings were among the poorest in Europe. The hardships the people in some of the remote and little developed valleys in Ticino endured only a few generations ago are unimaginable to most folks living in my country today.
It wasn't uncommon that people had to sell their own kids as child slaves - the girls had to work in factories or in rice fields, the boys as "living chimney brushes" in northern Italy - just because there wasn't enough food to support the whole family through the harsh Ticino winters.
If you wonder why contemporary Swiss historians speak of "slaves" as opposed to child laborers, it's because that's what many of them actually were: auctioned off for a negotiable prize at the local market, once sold, these kids were not payed and in many cases not even fed by their masters (they had to beg for food in the streets or steal it).
Translated from German Wikipedia: ...The Piazza grande in Locarno, where the Locarno Film Festival is held today, was one of the places where orphans, foundlings and children from poor families were auctioned off. The boys were sold as chimney sweeps, the girls ended up in the textile industry, in tobacco processing in Brissago or in the rice fields of Novara, which was also extremely hard work: the girls had to stand bent over in the water for twelve to fourteen hours in all weathers. The last verse of the Italian folk song 'Amore mio non piangere' reads: “Mamma, papà, non piangere, se sono consumata, è stata la risaia che mi ha rovinata” (Mom, dad, don't cry when I'm used up, it was the rice field that destroyed me.)... de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kaminfegerkinder
The conditions for the chimney sweeps - usually boys between the age of 8 and 12 (or younger, because they had to be small enough to be able to crawl into the chimneys) - were so catastrophic that many of them didn't survive; they died of starvation, cold or soot in their lungs - as well as of work-related accidents like breaking their necks when they fell, or suffocatig if they got stuck in inside a chimney. This practice of "child slavery" went on as late as the 1950s (there's a very short article in English on the topic here: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spazzacamini and a more in depth account for German speakers in this brief clip: www.youtube.com/watch?v=gda8vZp_zsc ).
Now I don't know if the people who built the old stone houses along my path had to sell any of their kids, but looking at the remnants of their (not so distant) era I felt an immense sense of gratitude that I was born at a time of prosperity - and peace - in my region, my country and my home. Because none of it was my doing: it was simple luck that decided when and where I came into this world.
It also made me think of my own family. Both of my grandparents on my father's side grew up in Ticino (they were both born in 1900), but while they eventually left Switzerland's poorest region to live in its richest, the Kanton of Zurich, my grandfather's parents relocated to northern Italy in the 1920s and unfortunately were still there when WWII broke out.
They lost everything during the war, and it was their youngest daughter - whom I only knew as "Zia" which means "aunt" in Italian - who earned a little money to support herself and my great-grandparents by giving piano lessons to high-ranking Nazi officers and their kids (this was towards the end of the war when German forces had occupied Italy).
I never knew that about her; Zia only very rarely spoke of the war, but one time when I visited her when she was already over a 100 years old (she died at close to 104), I asked her how they had managed to survive, and she told me that she went to the local prefecture nearly every day to teach piano. "And on the way there would be the dangling ones" she said, with a shudder.
I didn't get what she meant, so she explained. Visiting the city center where the high ranking military resided meant she had to walk underneath the executed men and women who were hanging from the lantern posts along the road (these executions - often of civilians - were the Germans' retaliations for attacks by the Italian partisans).
I never forgot her words - nor could I shake the look on her face as she re-lived this memory. And I still can't grasp it; my house in Ticino is only 60 meters from the Italian border, and the idea that there was a brutal war going on three houses down the road from where I live now in Zia's lifetime strikes me as completely surreal.
So, back to my title for the photo above. "Peace". It's such a simple, short word, isn't it? And we use it - or its cousin "peaceful" - quite often when we mean nice and quiet or stress-free. But if I'm honest I don't think I know what it means. My grandaunt Zia did, but I can't know. And I honestly hope I never will.
I'm sorry I led you down such a dark road; I usually intend to make people smile with the anecdotes that go with my photos, but this one demanded a different approach (I guess with this latest image I've strayed from the path in more than one sense, and I hope you'll forgive me).
Ticino today is the region with the second highest average life expectancy in Europe (85.2 years), and "The Human Development Index" of 0.961 in 2021 was one of the highest found anywhere in the world, and northern Italy isn't far behind. But my neighbors, many of whom are now in their 90s, remember well it wasn't always so.
That a region so poor it must have felt like purgatory to many of its inhabitants could turn into something as close to paradise on Earth as I can imagine in a person's lifetime should make us all very hopeful. But, and this is the sad part, it also works the other way 'round. And I believe we'd do well to remember that, too.
To all of you - with my usual tardiness but from the bottom of my heart - a happy, healthy, hopeful 2025 and beyond.