Early risers. Westminster Bridge, London
London Eye
Devil May Care
Christmas in the saddle
Christmas lights in Bridgwater, Somerset
Sails & Sky
Green transport
On parade: a little penguin loves the attention.
Waiting for food
S-t-r-e-t-c-h. Ginger the cat. c.1978
Winter's walk to Cam Peak. c.1978
Ginger: The master of the tool box. c.1978
Dursley town centre. c.1978
Ford Cortina at home. c.1978
Ford Cortina with black cat. c.1978
Springhill, Cam. c.1978
Lunch? c.1978
Uncomfortable sleeping arrangement. c.1978
Turning around the steam engines. Minehead.
"My girls"
Abandoned mining equipment. Kalgoorlie
Mining truck at the Super Pit, Kalgoorlie
The Super Pit, Kalgoorlie. #1
1/8 • f/4.0 • 24.0 mm • ISO 3200 •
NIKON CORPORATION NIKON D800
24.0 mm f/2.8
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London Eye from Westminster Bridge


The River Thames glides past the London Eye – a Ferris wheel – and Country Hall on an early December day in late 2014. Photographed upon Westminster Bridge, the setting made famous by William Wordsworth.
Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802
By William Wordsworth.
Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!
Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802
By William Wordsworth.
Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!
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