To view more of this week’s photo challenge, click here.

To view more of this week’s photo challenge, click here.
On the Way…Getting there is half the fun.
A couple years ago, I put together this short pictorial of photographs I’ve taken while riding on the back of my husband’s motorcycle, entitled most appropriately “Back of the Bike, View from the Harley Seat”.
I borrowed probably my most favorite song, John Denver’s “Take Me Home Country Roads” to accompany the pictures.
For more images in this week’s photo challenge, click here.
Broken Hearts, Broken Lives
“…from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion–that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain–that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom…”
Abraham Lincoln
November 19, 1963
For more of the Weekly Photo Challenge: Broken, click here.
Partial ruins on the grounds of the San Francisco De La Espada Mission, San Antonio Texas.
In the 18th century, Franciscan priests from Spain established five Catholic missions along the San Antonio River, primarily to extend Spain’s dominion northward from Mexico, but also to convert and educate the native population. Today, the five missions, San Francisco De La Espada, San Juan Capistrano, Concepcion, San Jose y San Miguel de Aguayo and San Antonio de Valero (more commonly known as The Alamo), represent the largest concentration of Spanish colonial missions in North America…
The oldest and southernmost of the five east Texas Missions, the mission was moved to the San Antonio River in 1731. The Espada is the only mission which made it’s own brick as is evidenced by this partial brick wall. The five other missions in this group are
To see more of the Weekly Photo Challenge: Broken, click here.
Enveloped by delicate color,
Enveloped by luscious scent,
Your face buried in the tiny flowers,
Breathing deeply,
Inhaling the light and sweet fragrance that floats on the breeze as you walk away,
Enveloped in the best of Spring.
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Rain. Lots and lots of rain. Couple that rain with an incorrectly built block wall that vents the water into the yard behind you and you have a recipe for disaster. Flooded basement.
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“Down by the old mill stream where I first met you, with your eyes of blue, dressed in gingham too; it was there I knew that you loved me true, you were sixteen, my village queen, by the old mill stream.”
This old song, written in 1908 and made famous in 1910 by Tell Taylor is the perfect accompaniment for this photograph. The Old Mill on the banks of the Little Pigeon River in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, is reportedly one of the most photographed mills in the United States. I took this photograph most likely in the late 1970s judged by the short gym style shorts the young boy in the lower left hand corner is wearing. Its funny I don’t remember actually going to this mill and I’m guessing when we were there, it was not nearly as commercialized as it is now. Pigeon Forge is located on the northwest side of Route 321 which traverses the Great Smokey Mountains and links Pigeon Forge with Gatlinburg, Tennessee, the southeast entry into the Great Smokey Mountains National Park. I like this photograph very much, but like many landscape photos, the sky in the original photograph lacked any color. I found a tutorial online which taught me how to replace the boring white sky with a more vivid blue sky I had photographed last year. What a difference the change in sky made!
Here is the original photograph:
Here is a link to the tutorial. It worked like a charm! I’ve tried many times to replace a sky and this method is by far the best result I have ever gotten.
The intricate circular pattern of Sea Grape leaves is broken by this green iguana who made a visit to our terrace on the island of St. Croix.
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