Person scene
44 creative works found
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For me summer holiday memories are all about bare feet, the sea, the smell of aerogard and barbeques, and long days and warm nights often spent in a caravan park by the ocean. This piece is about all of that, but I also wanted to infuse it with a bit of darkness and mystery …Holiday villages are so full of life and colourful characters by day, but at night when all have gone to bed and secured their temporary little homes, they can be quite strange and creepy…
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Policeman in the rain with the Christopher Street Day in Berlin Germany
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Looking downward at the street from 35 floors up with figure heading into the light. Click once on image to enlarge. / / / /
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Constructed in 1874, Mea She’arim was one of the first neighborhoods to be built outside the Old City walls of Jerusalem. / She’arim is synonymous with ultra orthodoxy. This neighborhood is a window into a way of life that was practiced in Eastern Europe several centuries ago. Its religious inhabitants focus their lives on Talmudic learning. / Such devotion to religion and learning brings with it a desire for segregation from less observant people and the changing ideas of modernism. / Me’a She’arim is in another sense both miles and years away.
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A Border-Collie in a field walking in the snow
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on the Il de Ré (France) we were having a paddle as I turned back around to look a the beach from another point of view I saw this scene, the person standing on their own with everything else going on around….......
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Inspired by children and created for children, a beautiful addition to brighten up the playroom or nursery. Specifically designed to celebrate the festive season ;D Have a specific colour scheme in mind, or wanted to add your child’s name to make it extra special – not a problem! / Simply bmail me and I will see what I can do for you! My entry for For the Kids / As it is so close to Christmas – please lets see your images created especially with children in mind. Competition here / there are some fabulous entries, so be sure to check them all out, and don’t forget to vote
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Georgetown, Penang, Malaysia
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T.O. passing
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Taken in Bury Knowle Park Headington Oxford after an 18 year wait!
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People silhouette in a business hall
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in Toledo, Ohio. Mix of stone, windows and a human
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Photo was taken during an autumn hike somewhere on a Hungarian hilly region with a fixed 30mm fast lens. This picture is available on my iStockphoto site.
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Grr?
by Lorna Boyera random idea i was experimenting with on photoshop / i kinda like this one :) / thoughts? / x
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Street Scene from Old Varanasi, India
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Near Hell Stones and Hardy’s Monument, Portesham, Dorset
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Hive beach at Burton Bradstock, Dorset, UK
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Street Scene with Man on Sidewalk, Cordoba (Spain)
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It was a brisk winter morning about a week shy of Christmas when I came upon this fellow on a ridgeline a half mile due east of Cades Cove campground in the Smoky Mountain National Park. He had something other than me on his mind as he looked past me searching for a little doe that held every faculty of his attention. They were moving a bit too fast on that slippery slope for me, so I can’t tell you how their little dance turned out for certain. He seemed terribly enthusiastic and she seemed quite enamored by his unwavering interest; I’m pretty sure that no one went disappointed that evening, including me. There was a sense of magic in the air; I know that is just too cliché a thing to write, but I can’t help myself. I don’t refer here to procreation; I speak to the recipe of experience that comes with being alone in nature (as far as other human beings are concerned) and hustling up a steep incline on a day when the air is so fresh that it lends credence to the notion that you’ve walked into a parallel universe free of all the woes that face our planet; everything around you is draped in pristine white, smoothing out all the sharp edges in contrast and blending everything into one. ‘Then’ is ‘now’..... somehow I feel it as if I’m there again – I can’t catch my breath, not from exertion, but from the gravity of what I’ve stumbled into that’s pressing in on my chest and tugging back at my heart. I feel privileged to be here witnessing it all and somehow I feel a part of it; a part of the trees, the mountains, and these simple innocent creatures as they answer an ancient call emanating out of what feels like every where at once. The breeze that rattles frozen branches and the gurgle of a nearby drainage muffled under the snow are my commentary to this strange communion spoken in a language not of words. It comes as new found feeling welling up from some forgotten place within. “Thank you.” I say it to no one in particular. Something wonderful has happened to me. I’m like Ebenezer Scrooge ripping up all the debtors’ notes I’ve been hanging on to for so long. I just don’t need them any more. I’m exhausted from the day’s trek and yet I tread lighter somehow; I’m aware now of how bound up I’ve been; I can see this now that I’m free (continued with Winter Wonder 2). Nikon F5, f4 1/60, Fuji Velvia 50, SB-25 Speedlight -1 exp.comp. Wemberly Head, Gitzo tripod, Great Smoky Mountain National Park
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(Continued from Winter Wonder) As the afternoon progressed the sun came out in earnest. I was afraid that the heat would come and take it all away; not just the snow but everything that came with it. As this wunderkind and his prospective mate wandered about the snowy forest around me, I was gifted with another image with which to punctuate this occasion in my memory….and perhaps an image through which to pass on something of the intangible blessing that I received that day. How can I possibly hope to describe the sense of all pervading presence that I felt then? Words speak only to prior understanding already resident in the mind; this was entirely new to me; I had no conceptual box to place it in and now all the words I reached for to describe it only seemed to diminish the enormity of it. What had I done to be graced with permission to enter into this grand space? How could I be certain to repeat it if the feeling of it became lost to me again?! I realized that I had felt this way before, a very long time ago as a child wandering alone in the forest. I had forgotten, because at that early age it was just something that I was part of and with nothing yet with which to compare it, there was little conscious awareness of it. Once it was gone, once I had lost the sense of it for good, it was necessary that I forget its passing, for the recognition of the loss was simply too much for my young heart to bear. My eyes began to leak a bit there in that snowy landscape; I was grieving the loss at last, a necessary rite of passage in order that I might once again enter into that communion, once lost, now regained. The pain did not swallow me up and suck me down into perpetual misery; it was as if this presence, this awareness restoring itself within me knew how to move through and into indescribable wonder. I had given it permission to heal me and so it was that this new state of being began to restore me into itself. I became that. And it continues. It seems that the more I want it to deepen, the more readily it occurs. Nikon F5, f2.8 1/120, 200 mm, Fuji Velvia 50, SB-25 Speedlight -1.3 exp.comp. Wemberly Head, Gitzo tripod, Great Smoky Mountain National Park
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(Continued from Coyote Howl) I shared all this one day with someone, asking her what she thought was going on. Her answer was simply just another question: “If you were to suppose that these experiences are coming from a place of unlimited wisdom, then what wisdom is being communicated to you through them?” That was it exactly, I recall telling her, and then I waited for her to give me the answer to her question, which was nothing more than a rewording of what I had asked her to begin with. She just smiled and told me a little story that went something like this: A Shovel and a Rock / By Miles A Moody “There was a fellow dying of a serious illness; in fact, if it were not for the intervention of a mysterious healer, he would have surely died. The doctors had given the man up for dead and the priests had administered last rites, when the healer appeared and asked the young man why he wished to live. ‘I feel that I was meant to change the world for the better,’ answered the young man, ‘but now I shall die with my destiny unfulfilled and this is the saddest thing of all.’ The healer replied that surely there was someone who might continue the work begun by the young man; to this the man confessed, ‘I have wasted my life in things that no longer matter to me; it is here on my death bed that I have realized my true reason for being here on this earth.’ “The healer produced a flask of the foulest water drawn from the sewers of that hospital and poured forth a hearty portion. Pestilence swam in its fetid waters as the healer presented it to the sick man. “This is your illness. To the degree to which you trust in the truth in that which you have just testified to me, to that same degree shall this serve to heal you. Now drink up, if you dare.” “It was contrary to the best advice of the doctors and priests that the dying man hoisted that rank beverage to his lips, and with the last of his strength he drank it down. It was to their utter amazement that the man walked away from his death bed that very day. He set to work immediately drawing up plans for a great center of healing, spending the last of his savings to purchase a property. Every day he rushed about in pursuit of the funds for constructing the center and each night he returned to his property to sit upon a large rock there at its center and cry out to the heavens in frustration. His presentations were flawless, and many of the rich and famous where in his audiences, but no one would listen to him and donate money. A small contribution he finally managed to receive was spent on a site preparation study; to his dismay, the man learned that the entire property was situated upon an extinct volcano lying just inches beneath the surface. His ‘rock of lamentation’ was but a tiny tip of that subterranean behemoth. The expense for foundation preparation alone would be astronomical, he was told. ‘Why did I feel to purchase this property,’ he howled from his rock. ‘Why did I think I knew how to make a difference in this world?’ “And so it was that the man sat upon his rock day and night beseeching the heavens, ‘I am a fool,’ he wailed, time and again. ‘Tell me what to do,’ and there was only that same shovel at his feet; it was all that remained of the site evaluation crew. ‘I am a bigger fool than I thought, because I feel to take that shovel there and strike this rock to prepare the way for my destiny.’ His tears gave way to anger and he pounded his fists bloody on the rock, until finally after many such days, he relented. ‘Okay, if you want me to clear away a volcano with only this pitiful shovel, then so be it. No matter how long it takes me, I will not lose faith again. I don’t understand how or why this will make any difference, but I will trust in the guidance that has brought me this far (continued with Angel Walk 2).’” Nikon F4s, f22 @1/30, Fuji Reala 100, Gitzo tripod, Great Smoky Mountain National Park
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