Yes indeedy, Neetzy: this is what brings the tourists. Set off in any direction from my home and you're likely to bump into an awful lot of this kind of thing. Yes, that's my shadow on the water. This was taken on one of those beautiful, balmy February days when the arctic gales that howl straight down from the north pole decide to take a break from tearing the skin off my face and go and bother the Norwegians instead. Whenever one of those days comes my way I head out with the camera.
Ms.M, that's the closest I get to taking a self portrait.
Shan, this is a drainage channel. All the surrounding land used to be underwater until the Dutch came over in mediæval times to help us reclaim it. The windmill is not a windmill but a wind pump. The Dutch engineers built levées around our rivers and then dug drainage ditches like this one criss-crossing the marshes. The windpumps take the water from the drainage ditches and pump it up into the river, drying out the marsh to give us cultivable land. We're pretty much below sea level in a lot of places. The windpumps keep us above water.
Damn all this beauty, Vanda. Yes, I'm greedy wanting to keep it all to myself, but Blogville folk are more than welcome to flock here.
Petrea, our winters are mercifully tourist free for many reasons, not least the fact that if you swim north from Norfolk there is nothing but seawater and pack ice between you and the North Pole. Days like this make up for it, though; that and the migrating birds and the sheer stark beauty of it all. The storms are pretty breathtaking, too. It gets very Ryans' Daughter here out of season.
Very interesting history about the Dutch building levees and drainage ditches. I'll bet the storms are magnificent -- as long as you can watch from a safe and dry place.
Regarding storms: when I was a kid, my brother and I would go out in the yard (we lived on a farm in the midwest in "tornado alley") and watch big summer storms come in. We'd watch the clouds swirl, looking for the neophyte funnel clouds, with the wind beating against us. We'd stay until it seemed dangerous, or the rain began to pour. The power is just awesome to experience.
Ms.M: our storms are rather pathetic compared to yours but there's still something majestic about being out in one of them. American weather scares me.
15 comments:
No wonder the tourists come flocking! (I'm guessing that is your silhouette reflected in the water).
Very lovely and picturesque (even with the photographer's shadow) :-)
A fish farm strip? Or a lap pool for farm hands? Very peaceful either way. :)
Yes indeedy, Neetzy: this is what brings the tourists. Set off in any direction from my home and you're likely to bump into an awful lot of this kind of thing.
Yes, that's my shadow on the water. This was taken on one of those beautiful, balmy February days when the arctic gales that howl straight down from the north pole decide to take a break from tearing the skin off my face and go and bother the Norwegians instead. Whenever one of those days comes my way I head out with the camera.
Ms.M, that's the closest I get to taking a self portrait.
Shan, this is a drainage channel. All the surrounding land used to be underwater until the Dutch came over in mediæval times to help us reclaim it. The windmill is not a windmill but a wind pump. The Dutch engineers built levées around our rivers and then dug drainage ditches like this one criss-crossing the marshes. The windpumps take the water from the drainage ditches and pump it up into the river, drying out the marsh to give us cultivable land. We're pretty much below sea level in a lot of places. The windpumps keep us above water.
500 Words?!?!?!?!
Eek! I've been so busy that it kinda slipped my mind, Prudence. I'll set another one soon; I promise.
Serves you right for being so damn bucolic. I'd be flocking there too.
I'd be packing if you hadn't mentioned the part about the wind tearing the skin off your face.
Damn all this beauty, Vanda. Yes, I'm greedy wanting to keep it all to myself, but Blogville folk are more than welcome to flock here.
Petrea, our winters are mercifully tourist free for many reasons, not least the fact that if you swim north from Norfolk there is nothing but seawater and pack ice between you and the North Pole.
Days like this make up for it, though; that and the migrating birds and the sheer stark beauty of it all. The storms are pretty breathtaking, too. It gets very Ryans' Daughter here out of season.
Thanks for the explanation! You know, I don't get out much. Interesting system!!
The Dutch are a strange, aquatic folk, Shan. They are pretty handy when it comes to making farmland out of squishy peat bogs though.
Very interesting history about the Dutch building levees and drainage ditches. I'll bet the storms are magnificent -- as long as you can watch from a safe and dry place.
Regarding storms: when I was a kid, my brother and I would go out in the yard (we lived on a farm in the midwest in "tornado alley") and watch big summer storms come in. We'd watch the clouds swirl, looking for the neophyte funnel clouds, with the wind beating against us. We'd stay until it seemed dangerous, or the rain began to pour. The power is just awesome to experience.
Ms. M, we used to do that, too, in north central Illinois.
Ms.M: our storms are rather pathetic compared to yours but there's still something majestic about being out in one of them. American weather scares me.
Petrea, you are all mad as hatters.
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