╰☆☆June☆☆╮'s photos with the keyword: macro

On Explore....thank you.... Crystal on a duster....MACRO Well I had to use the duster for something..... It was far too hot for dusting lol ★~(◠‿◕✿) Today's challenge is anything made of glass, photographing it in such a way in order to bring out the best qualities. View large for detail

On Explore, thank you. In my garden, the first of the roses to open

This leaf was really small, about 1cm

Frogs are members of the family Ranidae, containing more than 400 species. These frogs have the characteristics of: * two bulging eyes * strong, long, webbed hind feet that are adapted for leaping and swimming * smooth or slimy skin (generally, frogs tend to like moister environments) * Frogs tend to lay eggs in clusters. Frogs from this family can be found on every continent except Antarctica. They are referred to as the "true frogs" because of their generalized body form and life history: the so-called generic frog. Members of this family include the bullfrog, common frog, green frog, leopard frog, marsh frog, pickerel frog, and wood frog.

Bellis perennis is a common European species of Daisy, often considered the archetypal species of that name. Many related plants also share the name "Daisy", so to distinguish this species from other daisies it is sometimes qualified as Common Daisy, Lawn Daisy or occasionally English daisy. It is native to western, central and northern Europe. The species is widely naturalised in North America, and also in South America.

Just for fun....

Colour Me....a poem by Sneha Murali Colour me beautiful, colour me wild Colour me loved, colour me mild Colour me red yellow green blue Colour me a tinge, colour me hue He said, She Bled. He lied, She cried He said 'paint me red' She said 'colour me dead' He sped, she pled. He washed colours with hate instead Colour me simple, colour me plain, colour me before I'm erased again Rubbed, dubbed, snubbed and scrubbed Outline me before love fills me up Before pain is painted on my canvas Before hurt is stained on my facade Colour me strong, colour me long Colour me temper, colour me wrong He cant be; He wont be my dismay Broken brush and bristles, faded away Colour me beautiful, not just beautiful But lovely, pretty, nitty, gritty, graceful Colour me rainbow, colour me trance Colour me just one, just one more chance. *******************Thank you all for your visits, much appreciated ************************

This is a macro of a fly... Richard Burton narrates the War of the Worlds youtu.be/dRV7CUU5tFk Journalist: For three days I fought my way along roads packed with refugees, the homeless, burdened with boxes and bundles containing their valuables. All that was of value to me was in London, but by the time I reached their little red brick house, Carrie and her father were gone. Forever Autumn The summer sun is fading as the year grows old, And darker days are drawing near, The winter winds will be much colder, Now you’re not here I watch the birds fly south across the Autumn sky, And one by one they disappear, I with that I was flying with them, Now you’re not here Like the sun through the trees you came to love me, Like a leaf on a breeze you blew away Through Autumn’s golden gown we used to kick our way, You always loved this time of year, Those fallen leaves lie undisturbed now, ‘Cause you’re not here ‘Cause you’re not here ‘Cause you’re not here Journalist: Fire suddenly leapt from house to house, the population panicked and ran – and I was swept along with them, aimless and lost without Carrie. Finally I headed Eastward for the ocean, and my only hope of survival – a boat out of London. Like the sun through the trees you came to love me, Like a leaf on a breeze you blew away A gentle rain falls softly on my weary eyes, As if to hide a lonely tear, My life will be forever Autumn, ‘Cause you’re not here ‘Cause you’re not here ‘Cause you’re not here Journalist: As I hastened through Covent Garden, Blackfriars and Billingsgate, more and more people joined the painful exodus. Sad, weary woman, their children stumbling and streaked with tears, their men bitter and angry, the rich rubbing shoulder with beggars and outcasts. Dogs snarled and whined, the horses bits were covered with foam…. And here and there were wounded soldiers, as helpless as the rest. We saw tripods wading up the Thames, cutting through bridges as though they were paper – Waterloo Bridge, Westminster Bridge…. One appeared above Big Ben. Journalist: Never before in the history of the world had such a mass of human beings moved and suffered together. This was no disciplined march – it was a stampede – without order and without a goal, six million people unarmed and unprovisioned, driving headlong. It was the beginning of the rout of civilisation, of the massacre of mankind. A vast crown buffeted me toward the already packed steamer. I looked up enviously at those safely onboard – straight into the eyes of my beloved Carrie! At sight of me she began to fight her way along the packed deck to the gangplank. At that very moment it was raised, and I caught a last glimpse of her despairing face as the crowd swept me away from her. Like the sun through the trees you came to love me, Like a leaf on a breeze you blew away Through Autumn’s golden gown we used to kick our way, You always loved this time of year, Those fallen leaves lie undisturbed now, ‘Cause you’re not here ‘Cause you’re not here ‘Cause you’re not here Journalist: The steamer began to move slowly away – but on the landward horizon appeared the silhouette of a fighting machine. Another came, and another, striding over hills and plunging far out to sea and blocking the exit of the steamer. Between them lay the silent, grey Ironclad “Thunder Child”. Slowly it moved towards shore; then, with a deafening roar and whoosh of spray, it swung about and drove at full speed towards the waiting Martians.