Another picture I took in Braives (Belgium) a few days ago. This field was beautiful with amazing tracks and trees perfectly placed. The above photo has been shot with the Samsung NX10, provided by Samsung Electronics. Co., Ltd.
Showing posts with label horizon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label horizon. Show all posts
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.(see it on Flickr)
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(The above picture has been
shot with the Samsung NX10)
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This is a photo I took from a plane a few weeks ago (we were flying over Switzerland at 10 km above the ground!). I've repainted several parts of the picture. The mountains look rather small because we were very high, but they are huge, many of them exceed 4,000 m with the highest, Monte Rosa, reaching to 4,638 metres (15,217 ft), and there are also numerous glaciers including several of the largest in the Alps, such as the Aletsch Glacier, declared a UNESCO World Heritage site in 2001 with a length of about 24 km and covering more than 120 square kilometres!)
.(The above picture has been
shot with the Samsung NX10)
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Detail:
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I recently took this photo in the South of France
The above picture has been shot with the Samsung NX10, which
has been provided to me by Samsung Electronics Co., Ltd.
.
(click HERE or on the image to enlarge it)
This is the landscape I saw from the top of Beynac Castle, in the Dordogne department of France. I visited this beautiful place last week. I spent several days to assemble and edit some 20 photos I took there (no Fisheye and no AutoPano). The original image is huge and it was quite a challenge this time because my graphic tablet just got damaged and I had to do everything with a standard mouse. :)
.Random details:
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The above photos have been shot with the Samsung NX10,
which has been provided to me by Samsung Electronics Co., Ltd.
© 2010 - Ben Heine
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I took this photo a few days ago in Lessive near Rochefort, Belgium
The above photo has been shot with the Samsung NX10, which
has been provided to me by Samsung Digital Imaging Co., Ltd.
© 2010 - Ben Heine
The Magic Windmill
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© 2009 - Ben Heine.
The Time Is Like
a Windmill
By Peter S. Quinn
The time is like a windmill
Of wheeling on the waves
That goes up and down a hill
In moments of lots to fill
With wonderments and craves
The morning is shining there
Onward to fields and roads
And giving a circle to adhere
From some to almost anywhere
Of many its falling loads
Its silences and tones so soft
Filling the moments to go
And bringing around its oft
With a round and around waft
Like wind in breeze will blow
The day and night to give in
Of each its work be done
From dry to water full spin
Where each of both has been
Until the turning is none
Wheel will strive and break
To reach its own destiny
Give of what it will take
And always be still awake
To turn forever and be free
For it's like circle of life
In making its going turn
And as it too it must strife
And break on through the rife
Forever to go on and learn
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The Wind is Blowing
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Dancer of the Sky
By Peter S. Quinn
Dancer of the sky
Dance in clouds faraway
Every reach and try
Drifts and cannot stay
White hazy a yonder
Too far into the blue
Makes a gesture and ponder
As it goes on through
Happy moods going
Wind wind in its blow
Azure sky glowing
Blue and white as snow
Dancer dance your song
Into a distance dream
So I may still long
With sun evening gleam
Dancers of the sky
Run on the silky ways
For the gazing eye
In their heavenly plays
While these moments last
World’s beautiful vision
For a hope to recast
In our own precision
.
By Peter S. Quinn
Dancer of the sky
Dance in clouds faraway
Every reach and try
Drifts and cannot stay
White hazy a yonder
Too far into the blue
Makes a gesture and ponder
As it goes on through
Happy moods going
Wind wind in its blow
Azure sky glowing
Blue and white as snow
Dancer dance your song
Into a distance dream
So I may still long
With sun evening gleam
Dancers of the sky
Run on the silky ways
For the gazing eye
In their heavenly plays
While these moments last
World’s beautiful vision
For a hope to recast
In our own precision
.
Spirit of the Earth
.
The Earth is Yellow
A poem by Peter S. Quinn
The earth is yellow,
Under the winter's aglow;
Spring will come and grow,
A seed from under the snow.
Sleepy old forest,
With branches so barren;
Now you must adjust,
For the new and the foreign.
The earth is quite old,
Where shadows shall dissolve;
For winter can not hold,
What must revive and evolve.
The mountains become blue,
From distance faraway;
And everything come through,
With midnight sun and day.
The earth is my mother,
And with here I shall be;
Like each my sister - brother,
For all the rest of eternity.
Catch as catch you can,
The gold of green and new;
Now returns summer's van,
For youthful thoughts and hue.
A poem by Peter S. Quinn
The earth is yellow,
Under the winter's aglow;
Spring will come and grow,
A seed from under the snow.
Sleepy old forest,
With branches so barren;
Now you must adjust,
For the new and the foreign.
The earth is quite old,
Where shadows shall dissolve;
For winter can not hold,
What must revive and evolve.
The mountains become blue,
From distance faraway;
And everything come through,
With midnight sun and day.
The earth is my mother,
And with here I shall be;
Like each my sister - brother,
For all the rest of eternity.
Catch as catch you can,
The gold of green and new;
Now returns summer's van,
For youthful thoughts and hue.
.
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Eyes of the First Light
A poem by Peter S. Quinn
Strings of care for in summer's night
Beautiful days of its glowing shades
On to early cock-crow coming bright
Every glistening start to muted fades
Days and looks of the drifting clouds
With flowers to touch and hours to feel
Summer in misty and woody shrouds
So much of reason and so much unreal
Sky of the night here is glistening on
Through going lights of the Milky Way
Carrying old dreams till they're gone
In the rousing of a freshly instinctive day
Eyes of the first light brightening high
Through every rising opening new glow
Every of life's footfall again will try
To experience its existence and then go
Day is so easy at dawn's early gleam
When the daylight hour begins to show
When veracity is nothing but a dream
A torch of a morning increasing in slow
Eyes of the First Light
A poem by Peter S. Quinn
Strings of care for in summer's night
Beautiful days of its glowing shades
On to early cock-crow coming bright
Every glistening start to muted fades
Days and looks of the drifting clouds
With flowers to touch and hours to feel
Summer in misty and woody shrouds
So much of reason and so much unreal
Sky of the night here is glistening on
Through going lights of the Milky Way
Carrying old dreams till they're gone
In the rousing of a freshly instinctive day
Eyes of the first light brightening high
Through every rising opening new glow
Every of life's footfall again will try
To experience its existence and then go
Day is so easy at dawn's early gleam
When the daylight hour begins to show
When veracity is nothing but a dream
A torch of a morning increasing in slow
.
Life's Melody
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.
.
Here Comes
My Melody
.
By Peter S. Quinn
Here comes my melody outside
Heart looked in its beat
Every hour from the indoors hide
Easy comes nowhere street
Love song of ‘a going to nowhere’
Always again from its cast
Footsteps so softly from there
Into the grime are now lost
Day of my day through emotions
Longing to dream there on
Like the wind in its erosion
Till it has blown and gone
Telling you nothing is real
Only the rivers of hearts crying
Do what you most and you feel
Each in your way complying
Now that I have again instigated
It's time to leave once more
Otherwise time wouldn't be activated
Only be stranded in on 'nothing for'
Here comes my melody to sing
With the crowds going this morning
Some notions are not for the lasting
Into times sentimental corning
(The poem appeared on petersquinn.blogspot.com)
My Melody
.
By Peter S. Quinn
Here comes my melody outside
Heart looked in its beat
Every hour from the indoors hide
Easy comes nowhere street
Love song of ‘a going to nowhere’
Always again from its cast
Footsteps so softly from there
Into the grime are now lost
Day of my day through emotions
Longing to dream there on
Like the wind in its erosion
Till it has blown and gone
Telling you nothing is real
Only the rivers of hearts crying
Do what you most and you feel
Each in your way complying
Now that I have again instigated
It's time to leave once more
Otherwise time wouldn't be activated
Only be stranded in on 'nothing for'
Here comes my melody to sing
With the crowds going this morning
Some notions are not for the lasting
Into times sentimental corning
(The poem appeared on petersquinn.blogspot.com)
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Desert
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By Roy Brammell
Sage brush! Mile after mile,
Quiet in the sun, and shimmering;
Ever in the sun, ever shimmering!
The long low mountains
Seem to crouch beneath the heat,
And the earth, dried to a powder,
Is strewn with choked brown grass.
Ants burrow in the ground
And live on things that perish here.
Stream beds are dry, beaten paths
Of rabbits and sage coyotes
That for keen thirst run the full length
Of each ravine, and fall at last
As did one here whose bones lie scattered,
White as snow beneath the sun.
God, the waste! the quivering waste!
Where things grow up to die!
(Poem's source : www.skyways.lib.ks.us)
----------------
The poem and photo appeared
on hubzay.deviantart.com
.
By Roy Brammell
Sage brush! Mile after mile,
Quiet in the sun, and shimmering;
Ever in the sun, ever shimmering!
The long low mountains
Seem to crouch beneath the heat,
And the earth, dried to a powder,
Is strewn with choked brown grass.
Ants burrow in the ground
And live on things that perish here.
Stream beds are dry, beaten paths
Of rabbits and sage coyotes
That for keen thirst run the full length
Of each ravine, and fall at last
As did one here whose bones lie scattered,
White as snow beneath the sun.
God, the waste! the quivering waste!
Where things grow up to die!
(Poem's source : www.skyways.lib.ks.us)
----------------
The poem and photo appeared
on hubzay.deviantart.com
.
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