Ranch
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Hope you like it !! WARNING / ©2008 Globalphotos All rights reserved. / All photographs, text and images by Globalphotos are the exclusive property of Globalphotos – protected under Australian and international copyright laws. / These images may not be reproduced, copied or manipulated without written permission. / No use for Public Domain. / Use of any image for another photographic concept or illustration is a violation of copyright. . /
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Digital Art: Bronc training a fresh horse. / Note: All my digital art work is executed entirely with my mouse and Photoshop Elements’ brushes. It takes hours of concentration, patience and self control. Especially when the mouse wants to go right and you need it to go left! *When this happens , I reluctantly leave my office and go for a stroll in my garden. / That usually takes care of the problem and then, I get back to work :) *
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I captured this on a recent trip to a stable that rents horses for riding. This was my second trip and I plan to go back. Hope you like! See more of My Horse Images@
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Matt. 28;20 says….I am with you always… / The Lord Jesus will never leave of forsake you, so when you’re feeling overwhelmed, or alone, you are not. This is a compilation rendered in Photoshop. The rock, horse and tree are three separate images merged into here for the effect. Enjoy!
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A portrait of a beautiful white horse
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Snowy Phlox and balsamroot burst into color on the foothills of the Cascade Mountains as the sun sets.
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My Country The love of field and coppice, / Of green and shaded lanes. / Of ordered woods and gardens / Is running in your veins, / Strong love of grey-blue distance / Brown streams and soft dim skies / I know but cannot share it, / My love is otherwise. I love a sunburnt country, / A land of sweeping plains, / Of ragged mountain ranges, / Of droughts and flooding rains. / I love her far horizons, / I love her jewel-sea, / Her beauty and her terror - / The wide brown land for me! A stark white ring-barked forest / All tragic to the moon, / The sapphire-misted mountains, / The hot gold hush of noon. / Green tangle of the brushes, / Where lithe lianas coil, / And orchids deck the tree-tops / And ferns the warm dark soil. Core of my heart, my country! / Her pitiless blue sky, / When sick at heart, around us, / We see the cattle die- / But then the grey clouds gather, / And we can bless again / The drumming of an army, / The steady, soaking rain. Core of my heart, my country! / Land of the Rainbow Gold, / For flood and fire and famine, / She pays us back threefold- / Over the thirsty paddocks, / Watch, after many days, / The filmy veil of greenness / That thickens as we gaze. An opal-hearted country, / A wilful, lavish land- / All you who have not loved her, / You will not understand- / Though earth holds many splendours, / Wherever I may die, / I know to what brown country / My homing thoughts will fly. Dorothea Mackellar / (1885 – 1968) . / WARNING / ©2008 Globalphotos All rights reserved. / All photographs, text and images by Globalphotos are the exclusive property of Globalphotos – protected under Australian and international copyright laws. / These images may not be reproduced, copied or manipulated without written permission. / No use for Public Domain. / Use of any image for another photographic concept or illustration is a violation of copyright.
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Ranch fence in California, USA. North of Los Angeles about 100 miles, in the Tehachapi mountains. / PLEASE NOTE: The original file and prints are better quality and more detailed than the reduced sized views shown here.
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Austin, little white Arab with his pal Eddie, American Appendix Photo taken April 7, 2008
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Beautiful Norwegian Fjord horse sporting her winter coat basking in the lovely sunshine! Photo taken December 10, 2007.
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Photo taken April 18, 2008 in Pitt Meadows, British Columbia, Canada
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Rancher checking horses in the barn before retiring for the night. / / Note: All my digital art work is executed entirely with my mouse and Photoshop Elements’ brushes. It takes hours of concentration, patience and self control. Especially when the mouse wants to go right and you need it to go left! When this happens , I reluctantly leave my office and go for a stroll in my garden. / That usually takes care of the problem and then, I get back to work :) /
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Abstract sun shape on old barn in Johnson City, Texas.
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A few months ago I heard this song called A HORSE WITH NO NAME. I recalled it from my high school days. I just fell in love with the song again (lyrics below). And…last weekend while in the State of Virginia—I saw this horse that just sort of posed for me. It was my very own ‘horse with no name’; however, I think I’ll call it SUGAR. A HORSE WITH NO NAME (lyrics) On the first part of the journey / I was looking at all the life / There were plants and birds and rocks and things / There was sand and hills and rings / The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz / And the sky with no clouds / The heat was hot and the ground was dry / But the air was full of sound I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name / It felt good to be out of the rain / In the desert you can remember your name / ‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain / La, la … After two days in the desert sun / My skin began to turn red / After three days in the desert fun / I was looking at a river bed / And the story it told of a river that flowed / Made me sad to think it was dead You see I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name / It felt good to be out of the rain / In the desert you can remember your name / ‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain / La, la … After nine days I let the horse run free / ‘Cause the desert had turned to sea / There were plants and birds and rocks and things / there was sand and hills and rings / The ocean is a desert with it’s life underground / And a perfect disguise above / Under the cities lies a heart made of ground / But the humans will give no love You see I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name / It felt good to be out of the rain / In the desert you can remember your name / ‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain / La, la …
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DETAIL: “The Studio & Spirits Dream” Oil on Canvas. / I spent the last decade uprooted and on the road. I landed in a barn for awhile on a millionaire’s horse ranch, eventually turning the tack room into a studio that was liveable, enabling me to move out of the ranch’s bunkhouse (12 X 12 foot room with sink) and take up barn residence. It was a wonderful place for 4 years with horse pasture – about 200 occupants – out the door. Goats, sheep, mule named Corizon and Rambo the Ram in stalls and paddock on the other side, the Santa Lucia range all misty , mooned, sunned, gusted, and Milky Wayed before me. And it was the first functional studio I’d had in years. I wrote. And I painted. / This dream, this studio I painted there, is crowded with things I loved and hadn’t seen in ages, stored on the other side of America. Over filled with people I’d loved who’d died. With animals alive and not, who still owned my heart. With a chair from my twenties that no longer existed and the dream of my own bed again where such dreams could populate my nights. The cats who survived the move from Brooklyn then to Virginia’s wilderness then across country are on my bed, and some who departed before we got there, here too. My wonderful chocolate Lab – Rodin – is on alert at the bed’s end. A woodstove I’d seen once that would restore life to this heatless barn (I eventually got a kerosene heater). Some of my many thousands of books I carry with me that prop up my life are here, and all the intimate angels swinging through the undone work, the ready easel, the heart’s workplace. The Hawks Perch
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Smokey….........barn cat Photo taken February 24, 2008
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Shot this morning, a 3 bracket HDR image, output through Photoshop and Photomatix. As I said I was moving out to the country, and the photo-opps are numerous! :) I have always found scenes like this in rural America almost iconic in a sense, the ever enduring struggle of the American Farmer vs Government and big Corporate America. When I saw this I just stopped dead in my tracks, what you don’t see is the ranch house which was built about 30 years ago all boarded up….just sitting there….it really is just sad, seeing these open fields go to waste, the barn empty, with rusty farm equipment, harking back to when a family made an honest living off the land and the crops they raised. Part of America forever lost, part of a families tradition gone, forever. So goes life at times on the Eastern Plains of Colorado….... Thoughts welcomed ..the song below simply says it all…... —-—-—-—-—-—-—— See more on my website jdebordphoto.com All artwork is © John De Bord, All Rights Reserved. You may not use, replicate, manipulate, redistribute, or modify this image without my express consent John Cougar Mellencamp--Rain On The Scarecrow-Video HERE Scarecrow on a wooden cross Blackbird in the barn / Four hundred empty acres that used to be my farm / I grew up like my daddy did My grandpa cleared this land / When I was five I walked the fence while grandpa held my hand / Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow / This land fed a nation This land made me proud / And Son I’m just sorry there’s no legacy for you now / Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow / Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow / The crops we grew last summer weren’t enough to pay the loans / Couldn’t buy the seed to plant this spring and the Farmers Bank foreclosed / Called my old friend Schepman up to auction off the land / He said John it’s just my job and I hope you understand / Hey calling it your job ol’ hoss sure don’t make it right / But if you want me to I’ll say a prayer for your soul tonight / And grandma’s on the front porch swing with a Bible in her hand / Sometimes I hear her singing “Take me to the Promised Land” / When you take away a man’s dignity he can’t work his fields and cows / There’ll be blood on the scarecrow Blood on the plow / Blood on the scarecrow Blood on the plow / Well there’s ninety-seven crosses planted in the courthouse yard / Ninety-seven families who lost ninety-seven farms / I think about my grandpa and my neighbors and my name / And some nights I feel like dyin’ Like that scarecrow in the rain / Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow / This land fed a nation This land made me proud / And Son I’m just sorry they’re just memories for you now / Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow / Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow / Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow / This land fed a nation This land made me proud / And Son I’m just sorry they’re just memories for you now / Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow / Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
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ok… for all you horse lovers. Just call me the horse whisperer from now on. Hope you like! p.s. I put this in the Humor Captured group, because I think it’s a funny shot. Don’t usually get horses in this position, plus she’s cute :-) See more of the Horse Images@
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Photo taken April 19, 2008 in Maple Ridge, British Columbia, Canada
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Old Oak tree has lost all its original limbs but recently sprouted a new top.
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