Waterproof Cams
View allAll Photos Tagged waterproof
'Mr Lincoln' photographed after one of Sydney's famed thunderstorms had lashed across the upper North Shore, with wind, rain and hail. The storm created havoc in the rose gardens at Wahroonga, in northern Sydney.
But for 'Mr Lincoln' - no problem. One of the most waterproof roses in the business - since 1964.
Photographed at Wahroonga Park Rose Gardens, in northern Sydney, late on Friday afternoon 13th November, 2020, after the storm had abated.
My Canon EOS 5D Mk IV, with the Canon f 2.8. L 100mm macro lens.
'Mr. Lincoln', is a dark red hybrid tea rose cultivar. Bred in America by Herbert Swim and Weeks Rose Growers in 1964, The rose was named an All-America Rose Selections winner in 1965.
It is, in my humble view, the best and most fragrant hybrid tea rose in the world.
This is a leftover from March when we had snow and nice temperatures. In March, water temperature is around 37f (3c) and with mostly waterproof boots, is enjoyable.
The Great Salt Lake - GPS is not the exact spot of the shot.
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at booth Sony seen aquariums with fish, there have been placed waterproof cameras. photo taken at the international exhibition "Consumer eletstronitss & Photo Expo 2013". Crocus Expo Moscow.
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One has to be careful not accidentally end up in landing mode...
7 April 2022, Train 934, 5080-4513, Merton, SIMT-NZ
© Leanne Boulton, All Rights Reserved
Street photography from Glasgow, Scotland.
Colour re-edit of a previously published shot from March 2019. I hope you are enjoying me revisiting some of my black and white shots to bring them back in full colour - hopefully one day I will be able to get out and get some new street shots for you all.
Given a slight colour grade to make the blues just a little more purple so that they contrast nicely with the yellow coat. Enjoy.
Stay safe.
In a bid to catch up I'm hitting weeks 13 (feathers) and 14 (reflections) of the 52 week challenge with an archive shot. There are green shoots in my garden and yesterday I saw my first bluebird of the season - Spring!
GRAZIE A TUTTI PER LE VOSTRE VISITE E COMMENTI !!!
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For Macro Mondays' "Anything Goes" theme for May 30th.
This is a Cardinal feather with a water drop. I found the feather a few months back and thought it would make for an interesting macro but never got around to shooting. It was shot with 65mm of extension tubes. Seen with the naked eye this feather looks to be a dark, dark red. I was very surprised to see the structure at this magnification.
Thanks for viewing and happy Macro Monday!
this is a large water lily pad from the outside pool at the New York Botanical Gardens. It's interesting to me how the sturdy leaves collect large pools of water and the resulting natural changes in color as the drop every so slightly acts as an optical intermediary:)
Raincoat, not waterproof.
Waterproofing clothes is essential to stay dry during rainy days. There are several ways to protect jackets and other garments from water, including using special sprays and detergents.https://hg.eu/nl/tips/jas-waterdicht-maken
But if there is a hole in it, it won't work!
Took this after it had rained. Not sure what the plant is but it's huge. Think it may be a cordyline. It was going to be thrown away so I said I would have it and it seems to love my garden which is very sandy and stony only a foot or less from the surface.
‘copyright image do not reproduce without permission’
The new Apple Watch is waterproof and can even be taken out for a swim. My contribution for the theme" water droplets" in Photo Sunday!
Blood is thicker than 'water'
This scene seems to endorse how waterproof some families truly can be.
:)
Heavy rains didn't seem to dampen the spirits of this cell phone photographer as he crouched down to capture a photo of his family posed in front of a popular Vancouver landmark.
Gastown is the historic core of Vancouver, and is the city's earliest, most historic area of commercial buildings and warehouses.
World's first steam powered clock
Raymond Saunders' first steam clock was built in 1977 to solve the issue of a steam vent in a popular sidewalk for the renovated Gastown district of Vancouver. Owned by the City of Vancouver, BC Canada
That’s right, Puffin’s feathers are completely waterproof-added with dense and interlocking feathers that have a waxy oil coating to keep them dry when diving in icy North Atlantic waters.
Good job my Robin is waterproof today! A miserable dark and wet day in the garden - Birmingham UK - 26-01-25
One week ago, Super Bowl Sunday, W9 drove us to a park near the Los Angeles Zoo. A Summer Tanager sighting had been reported.
In LA you gauge distances by time. Not by miles. Then factor in things like "Rush Hour" (ha ha. Rush Hour is any day any time) and if Dodger Stadium has a game and the typical ….stalled cars, a mattress in the fast lane, stuff like that. The park was not close but do-able.
Gratefully we've had some rain. The ground was soggy. My well-worn boots had so many holes in the sole and I put off the decision to repair them or toss them. But not the decision to wear them one more time.
We were there to get the rare tanager.
W9 walks over to me and says look at my shoes. And I do. They look really wet. And I glance at my tired trusty boots. They are soaked but I don't feel the wet and cold just yet, but I will. And soon. We continue to stomp around fighting the urge to complain about the wet and cold like the weasels we are but “man up” when we find another birder who has been sitting patiently scanning the trees with her binoculars (BTW which abbreviation do you prefer? Bins or Binocs?). She is blond and wears a red jacket. I am sure if she had a dog I could tell you his/her name and how old they are and what their favorite toy is... but her name escapes me.
Today we tried again. W9 and I had new waterproof footwear on. We had better light and new energy. We struck up a quick bond with Amir, also looking for the colorful rare bird. Marylou and daughter Emma joined us. And the blond in red was there too. I saw her pointing and gesturing to Amir who had his camera raised and ready. She is the reason I am posting this photo today. She didn't have a camera but said she could look at ebird postings and find the photo or the link to the photo we post. And then she could show her friends this beautiful, incredible, and rare visitor.
I couldn't let her down.
It rained on every one of the twelve days we were in Scotland - maybe I’d just been lucky in those earlier visits, but I’d never seen it like this before. Last time we hiked near Glencoe, we did so in a heatwave that lasted a week. Now, a month further into the height of summer, conditions were decidedly more Baltic than Bahamian. It was cold and it was wet. Very wet. There was nothing for it but to buckle up and roll with the punches. No point in bleating about the weather - this was Scotland after all.
On the second Saturday, towards tea time we drove up through a particularly saturnine looking Glencoe, charged with threatening skies and dark intent. We’d already stopped in a layby near the bottom of the pass, and then the big car park overlooking the Three Sisters. Just to enjoy the unfolding drama as I stepped for the briefest moments into the world outside the van to take potshots at the landscape. One final stop was in my plans. One last moment of opportunism by the Glencoe waterfall near the top. And thanks to a local YouTuber whose channel had appeared as if by divine intervention in my feed a couple of months before making the trip, I had a plan of sorts. A plan that I hoped might bring a slightly lower viewing point from the one by the pull in next to the road. One that wouldn’t involve crossing the road.
Well ok I did cross the road, very carefully I might add, to take a look at the view everyone else was enjoying, just to compare it with what I hoped was lying in wait. But you really don’t cross the road in these parts without looking in each direction about a hundred and fifty times if you can avoid it. The views may be leaving jaws hanging just above the tarmac here, but this is the main route to the Western Highlands and islands and you really don’t want to be messing about with the traffic. And although I was now back on the wrong side of the road for the standard view of the waterfall, I was ready to deploy the insider hack. An improved view, and best of all, shelter from the rain. No constant battles with the rocket blower and lens cloth where I was going. Because while most trolls have kept pace with the digital revolution and now carry out their murky business from secret bunkers hidden in dark spaces at the back of the interweb, this one was strictly old school, opting instead for a rather more traditional setting; under a bridge on the A82.
What was especially pleasing was how easy the cheat route was. Sometimes you see this stuff online and it looks like a doddle. But then you make your way to the place that’s going to make life so much easier, only to arrive in front of a brand new eight foot barbed wire fence, humming with the unmistakable sound of two million volts, or a twenty metre high precipice beside a huge treacherous green sheet of rock that your guide forgot to mention. Sulkily, you end up crossing the corridor of doom two more times to stand next to the Instaselfie brigade, only to end up with an underwhelming result that never sees the light of day. But today was exactly as hoped for. There was the entrance to the magical kingdom beneath the bridge, just as I’d seen it on my screen at home, with only the smallest amount of graffiti, which I supposed had been left for decorative purposes by some previous occupant trolls.
Messaging Ali, who was as ever waiting patiently in the van, I told her I hadn’t succumbed to a thirty-eight tonne lorry and was still alive. I was reassured a few moments later to learn from her response that my continued existence on Planet Earth was “ok,” and that she wouldn’t have to drive the van all the way home to Cornwall on her own. Then I crept out of the rain and down to the sanctity of the rumbling bridge. Nobody else had found the place and this troll was happily alone without a billy goat in sight; not even a gruff one. Now I was roughly ten feet lower than everyone else who was enjoying this view, no longer on top of the waterfall, but looking more or less directly across the void towards it. The new perspective felt palpably more pleasing than the one above had, and best of all, I was dry. One or two hardy adventurers had climbed over the opposite wall on the bridge to scramble to a position right beside the top of the waterfall. Not all of them were wearing waterproofs. At least I had a diesel heater in the van to keep the chills at arm’s length later. The smugness indicator level on the back of my camera was currently hovering at the edge of the red zone.
I only needed a handful of shots to be happy enough, some of them zooming into the details, others capturing the entire majestic drop. Again, the weather conditions that had made photography so difficult over the last seven days were adding to the huge volumes of white water careering down into the shallow bowl. Had the weather been dry, this might have been little more than a trickle under harsh light in early July. The endless rains may have made hiking more bracing than it would otherwise have been, but here they were proving a formidable ally in these brief moments behind the camera. Photographically speaking at least, it was everything the troll beneath the bridge could have hoped for.