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Peter Quinton
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18,705 followers
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Paths

You can find me now and in the future by clicking
https://wheretofind.me/@peterquinton

You can adventure with me at my website: http://www.silenttheory.net
The books we wrote here on G+ are now on Amazon: http://amazon.com/author/peterquinton
You can find my footprints on GoogleMaps: https://goo.gl/maps/r2CtN5y38XJ2


Upon a time, once, when the world was young...

Hecuba was restless. She and her horse left home to find her fortune and adventure.

On the first day, she knifed a drink vendor for shortchanging her.

On the second day, she trampled a swineherd when he muttered under his breath.

Hecuba came to a fork in the road, and she asked the horse which way they should go. The horse was annoyed about leaving home, and did not answer. Overcome by doubt, Hecuba jumped down and sat in the middle of the road. The trouble with forks in the road is that you cannot poke them with a knife for information. And chasing them doesn't work either.

As she sat, Hecuba became convinced that she would never come this way again, and that the direction she took would change her life forever.

On the left fork, she saw a young good looking man approach. He was carrying a bottle of wine and was not wearing a shirt. She called to him, intending to drink his wine, "Come here. Tell me where you have been."

He stopped and said, "You are the most exquisite creature I have seen for hours. My name is Vice. Come with me, for this road leads my father's city called Pleasure. On the path are many taverns, and we can drink and dance at all of them."

Hecuba looked at him and briefly wondered where he had lost his shirt and why he was walking away from the city called Pleasure.

Just then, she saw a second person approaching from the right fork. This youth was wearing a shirt, but looked a little thin, had some piercings on his lips and gave the impression he might stutter.

Hecuba pursed her lips, and called out to him, "Come here Goth Boy. Tell me who you are and where you have come from."

The young Goth stopped and said, "My name is Virtue. The path I come from is cruel beyond description. At every turn, dangers abound. And, if you take this road, I will teach you how to write in Greek."

Hecuba sighed loudly and said to both young men, "Tell me something useful. Tell me if my horse and I will survive your roads?"

Vice says, "Your horse most certainly will survive. We will paint it pink. You and I will live in alcohol-fueled heaven."

She looked at Virtue, who shrugged and said, a little uncertainly, "We might have to eat your horse... But I can promise you that, at the end of the path, you will have 19 children, and become the most famous woman in the world."

Which path will you choose?

Thank you for all the wonderful moments we have shared. I am here. You will still be able to find me on my blog at http://www.silenttheory.net/ I will keep writing and taking photos - things you taught me to enjoy :)

#FarewellG+

(Image, Montague Island)
(text adapted from Letters, http://www.silenttheory.net/2017/02/letters.html a novel i am finishing this year :) )
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Mumbulla Sacred Pool - Biamanga National Park
Celebration: countdown 29

In the soft pink granite of the gorge, a creek cascades through a series of falls and pools. To the left of the top fall is a curious structure, almost as though someone has carved a rising eagle or hawk (Mullin or Munyunga in the Yuin language) into the wall of the fall.
As tempting as the water looked, as a sign of respect to the elders, i resisted the urge to swim here.

The structure on the side of the waterfall (perhaps an eagle or hawk known to attack humans) brings to mind a Yuin dream-time story from this part of Australia.

The story tells how a pair of young women were abducted from a waterfall gorge by a giant. They were rescued by a young man who led them away from the giant.
"At last they broke out into clear country and then they rested. The few trees there were laden with birds. There were probably millions, just as if all the birds of Australia had assembled in this one place to perform the work. The young man was of a bird totem. He was a "karrakal," or magpie, man, and his affinity was the hawk. One there was his pet.
By-and-bye the giant broke through the bush, and when he saw the three sitting down he raised his spear. The young man called, and immediately the birds rose in an enormous flock. They obscured the sunlight. They enveloped the giant. Then the magpie darted at him, followed by the other named. They jabbed holes in his head and face and shoulders. First he tried to shield himself by raising his arms before his face. They he turned and ran roaring from whence he came. The young man returned to their home. " (CW Peck,1928)

Image: HDR hand held composition over the lip of the second fall. This is a very slippery place, unsuited to cameras. The rocks at this pool have a soft pink glow. I have chosen to reprocess this in portrait mode as a HDR toning for depth.
I romanticize the stone here as soft - but i can assure you it is as hard as ordinary rock (or perhaps harder if you slip incautiously on its shiny smooth surface).

Celebrate: Thank you. To celebrate what we all achieved on G+, i am publishing the 50 most viewed posts in this collection until shutdown. This is a reprocessed image of this isolated fall (29th most viewed - viewed 1,938,387 times).

In appreciation for all of you who who have followed this Collection, i have prepared a series of 5 cards, imaging falls in this Collection and i will give them away once every couple of posts. The e-Card is in PDF form that can be downloaded in electronic form, and printed if you wish. The first is ready to be viewed and saved from: https://drive.google.com/open?id=1vJ-V4tpTYoRcy8x9tuRqi935LOdC0_vk The eCard also contains a couple of useful links to let you follow this collection of photographs after G+ closes.

#CelebrateCountdown (please feel free to use this hashtag to celebrate your own favorite posts)
#TheGoodOldDaysofGplus

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Paddys River Falls, Tumbarumba
Celebration: countdown 30

Paddys River Falls is near the sub-alpine town of Tumbarumba.
I never really feel I have understood a waterfall until I have been directly under it, and can feel the air pressure changing around me and the vibrations in the ground. This is an exception. I don't think i will understand this place. The walls of the fall are fluted into impossible shapes that come alive as evening falls.
Still, I remember this as a great place to swim when young, and lovely at the base of the waterfalls. I guess that these days, with this one, I would be a little more wary of what might be coming over the top. There is a second unseen danger here: the race continues on and turns a bend down a natural drain hole. In a strong current a small whirlpool forms above it.
This waterfall is tucked away, on the desolate and lonely road that was cut to the hydro power stations and Kiandra. Only bush folk come here, it is too far from the cities. My dad used to bring me here, on our way to cross country skiing. It was a long road trip, and snow closed roads at the top of the mountains did not help. This place was a nice tonic.
I love the way the cliff face here has been gradually cut away but am mystified by the stone figures that are left. When you live in a little town for a long time, there are a couple of views that start to define the place for you, even if no-one else. While I always enjoy a photo, it never quite puts me in the place. Familiar but not home. Actually driving through the streets and looking to that hill or over at that house or the place where my horse bolted years ago is a different matter

Image: I have reprocessed the original long exposure toning for depth to draw a little more detail from the image.

Celebrate: Thank you. To celebrate what we all achieved on G+, i am publishing the 50 most viewed posts in this collection until shutdown. This is a reprocessed image of this isolated fall (30th most viewed - viewed 1,937,641 times).

eCard giveaway: In appreciation for all of you who who have followed this Collection, i have prepared a series of 5 cards, imaging falls in this Collection. The e-Card is in PDF form that can be downloaded in electronic form, and printed if you wish. The first is ready to be viewed and saved from: https://drive.google.com/open?id=1vJ-V4tpTYoRcy8x9tuRqi935LOdC0_vk The eCard contains a couple of useful links to let you follow this collection of photographs after G+ closes.

#CelebrateCountdown (please feel free to use this hashtag to celebrate your own favorite posts)
#TheGoodOldDaysofGplus
#DieHardsSociety

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Carrington Falls - Budderoo National Park, Robertson
Celebration: countdown 31

In Australia, even waterfalls burn in the summer heat. A couple of years ago Carrington Falls was badly impacted by fires and key lookouts have been shut for years. Usually it will be the grass trees that will shoot first, and then a profusion of heath and gum will start from seed or main trunk. However, a hot fire will scorch the ground bare, kill off the seed bank and nothing will grow for years. There are ridges at the top of the Brindabella Mountains that will take generations to recolonize. This fire looked severe but when i came back recently, the lower bush had regenerated, but there is no sign of life in many of the tall trees.
Recently access was reopened to most of the area, and it again possible to venture here. Here, under clouds, i tried a couple of wide angle shots to catch the depth of the chasm.
Here we have yet another fall named after a British Lord. This time it was named for the liberal Earl Carrington who served as (a toothless) Governor some time after the conservative Belmore, who we met yesterday.

Image: This was a 17mm shot (with all the linear distortion you might expect). I originally radically processed emphasizing structure (introducing a degree of granularity and noise into the shot - but which helps the eye pick out the angular, grooved rocks). This time i am using a two layer approach, to preserve the detail unleashed but moderated against the tones in the original image

Celebrate: Thank you. To celebrate what we all achieved on G+, i am publishing the 50 most viewed posts in this collection until shutdown. This is a reprocessed image of Carrington Falls (31st most viewed - viewed 1,923,993 times).

In appreciation for all of you who who have followed this Collection, starting tomorrow i will give away a series of 5 cards, imaging key Australian falls. While in PDF form, the cards can be printed. Thank you. #CelebrateCountdown
#TheGoodOldDaysofGplus
#DieHardsSociety

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From my friend, the Australian Photographer +Chris Sutton
Wherein I spoke of their mystery...

(Title from Because of... by Leonard Cohen)

A look back over the G+ Years

#TheGoodOldDaysofGplus
#CelebrateCountdown a hashtag started by +Peter Quinton

April 2nd will be the last day of G+ apparently, I'll be here 'till the end, but if you want to find me elsewhere you can get in touch via my website or follow me on Instagram

https://www.chrissutton.com
Or
https://www.instagram.com/oldshakey/

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Hypnotism

Come. Let me make you a little well. Well enough for you to pay. Well enough for you to come back, time and again.
And in the meantime, listen to me sing. Let me remove your cares. Sip my healing drugs through your ears.
Do not be concerned that i generate plague and disease. With a small gift, all can be set aright.
And as for death, i can delay the day, for just a little pay. From home you'll come into my care
and you will learn to die the modern way.

(building two new books: Lessons and Short Stories.)

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Belmore Falls Morton NP
Celebration: countdown 32

Heavy rain brings the Wallagunda River falls to life. Through mist, the Belmore Falls drop 330m (1080') in a series of plunges to the Kangaroo River.

Once, steps led down the escarpment and followed the falls over quaint Victorian arches far below. The river took offence and cast the bridges aside. Today, we watch from a respectful distance.

Image This is a single handheld shot through afternoon mist. Originally i dehazed and toned the image to reflect to granite surfaces full of sharp edges and discordant detail, and while fond of the result, i find the granular nature challenging. Today i have processed it quite differently, cutting through the mist but using blurs to build a gentler image.

Celebrate: Thank you. To celebrate what we all achieved on G+, i am publishing the 50 most viewed posts in this collection until shutdown. This is a reprocessed image of Belmore Falls (32th most viewed - viewed 1,919,852 times).

After shutdown, you can find me by visiting https://wheretofind.me/@peterquinton
Adventure with me at my website: http://www.silenttheory.net
The books we wrote here on G+ are now on Amazon: https://amazon.com/author/peterquinton
My footprints are on GoogleMaps: https://goo.gl/maps/r2CtN5y38XJ2

#CelebrateCountdown (please feel free to use this hashtag to celebrate your own favorite posts) #TheGoodOldDaysofGplus
#DieHardsSociety

(I have been trying to keep comments open to as wide a group of people as possible, but unfortunately there is too much spam happening. Apologies in advance.)

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The trouble with crows

Their lonesome horrid cry is all around me, but i smile.

Twice a year, crows and ravens from afar descend on the area from Lake Bathurst and the Morass (small semi-permanent lakes North of Bungendore) and much of the region to the south. Including my little farm on the slopes of the old volcano.

They come in large black clouds dressed in Sunday best ready to bury all they find with relish.

Crows get bad press in sheep country – sometimes well deserved. Originally trapped and hunted, farmers soon learnt their mistake. The clouds of birds that come twice a year feast on grasshoppers. Today the great iron traps made for the crows lie broken, a silent testimony to a plague of grasshoppers. The trouble with crows is that they are not the worst that can be imagined.

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Belmore Falls Morton NP
Celebration: countdown 33

The 4th Earl of Belmore brought his wife here, the southern highlands, to escape the oppressive heat and mendacity of the City of Sydney. These remain good reasons to follow in his footsteps, and climb to the falls renamed in honor of the Governor's impressive beard.
On 12 March 1868 he was attending a picnic when Prince Alfred (commander of the visiting steam-powered warship HMS Galatea) was shot in a Fenian assassination attempt. As most of the police in the state of New South Wales were Irish, New South Wales teetered on the edge of becoming an Irish state and perhaps part of a pan-Pacific union with the Americas. The Earl kept his cool and the rebellion was put down.
The Earl's wife enjoyed the highlands, and they had 13 children, one of whom (Lady Edith) is reputed to have turned into a greylag goose

This wide shot shows the two top plunges and hints at the two lower unseen. The river drops 330m (1080') in a series of plunges to the Kangaroo River.

This image is taken from my video of the falls. The original was toned for structure. For this image, i reviewed the range of video frames noting that the sunlight lit different trees as the mist rolled up the river. I chose a new frame, looking for a little more balance between left and right.

Celebrate: Thank you. To celebrate what we all achieved on G+, i am publishing the 50 most viewed posts in this collection until shutdown. This is a reprocessed image of Belmore Falls (33th most viewed - viewed 1,919,852 times).

After shutdown, you can find me by visiting https://wheretofind.me/@peterquinton
Adventure with me at my website: http://www.silenttheory.net
The books we wrote here on G+ are now on Amazon: https://amazon.com/author/peterquinton
My footprints are on GoogleMaps: https://goo.gl/maps/r2CtN5y38XJ2

#CelebrateCountdown (please feel free to use this hashtag to celebrate your own favorite posts)
#TheGoodOldDaysofGplus
#DieHardsSociety
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Last Knight

After Atlantis sank and took civilization to the bottom of the Atlantic, the White Book of Rhydderch tells that Arthur gathered his knights. You have heard the bittersweet story of Camelot, Arthur, Guinevere and that problem child Lancelot. Wrong story.

The Welsh Chronicle tells what really happened.

The White Book tells you a story that you will not read in English books, and not just because the English never got the hang of pronouncing Welsh names, like Kynyr Keinvarvawc. And even if the English warmed to cuddly names like Olwen, the enthusiasm cooled when they found that she was the daughter of unpronounceable Yspaddaden Penkawr who was quite good throwing daggers.

We know the English have problems. To tell the truth, i have never really gotten the hang of the English and have put off travel over there because i am not sure i would understand either the language or the culture or places with more than 4 or 5 people, like cities. But this story is not about me, or what happened last night. Which I meant to ask you about. But, maybe another time.

The White Book tells the story about those other knights. The ones that got lost. And, most particularly it tells the story about the last knight, and those others Arthur gathered as the world burned.

Sir Cie (of the Peculiar gifts)
Sir Gwaddn (of the Bonfire)
Sir Gwefi (of the unfortunate Lips who was sometimes Sad)
Sir Morfran (the ugly)
Sir Osla (of the Big knife and who died of death)
Sir Ossol (who stands responsible for Flat English mountains)
Sir Sugn (the Sucker),
Sir Uchdryd (of the Cross beard)

and, as i mentioned earlier, Olwen.

(work in progress, Short Stories, www.SilentTheory.net)

Lechyd da!

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