╰☆☆June☆☆╮'s photos

Rollieflex SL35mm Approx 50 years old. Made in Singapore

Kodak Brownie Reflex Made in London. Approx 65 years old. 127 film. Twin lens reflex

Kodak Brownie Reflex Made in London. Approx 60 years old. 127 film. Twin lens reflex

Exa Single Lens Reflex with a waist level viewfinder. 600230. Made in Dresden. 35mm. Approx 70 years old.

Exa Single Lens Reflex with a waist level viewfinder. 600230. Made in Dresden. 35mm. Approx 70 years old.

Whitby is a town, port and civil parish in the Scarborough borough of North Yorkshire, England. It is situated on the east coast of Yorkshire at the mouth of the River Esk, surrounded by the North York Moors national park and the heritage coastline. A settlement with the Old English name of Streonshal was recorded in 656, when Oswy, the Christian king of Northumbria, founded the first Whitby Abbey, under the abbess, Hilda. The Synod of Whitby was held there in 664. In 867, the monastery was destroyed by Viking raiders, and was re-founded in 1078. It was in this period that the town gained its current name. In the following centuries Whitby functioned as a fishing settlement until, in the 18th century, it developed as a port and centre for shipbuilding and whaling, trade in locally mined alum and the manufacture of Whitby jet jewellery. The cliffs around Whitby hold ammonite fossils, and three green ammonites are featured on the coat of arms of Whitby Town Council. Thank you for your visits and comments, much appreciated

If you have a few minutes to spare, have a look at this.... www.youtube.com/embed/XRCIzZHpFtY?rel=0 ( www.youtube.com/embed/XRCIzZHpFtY?rel=0 ) (The journey to Mars)

Hear no evil See no evil Speak no evil

THE WATERING CAN INCIDENT a poem by Bill Mitton I said I hadn't borrowed it so stop accusing me! but the bugger wouldn't listen how stupid can you be? Anyway, the damned thing leaked! and it was far from being new. but he just went on about it There was nothing I could do So I soaked him with the hosepipe By Gum! he did get vexed if he hadn't fallen on his arse. who knows where we'd been next. He jumped up like a young un his vengeance for to take but he trod upon the upturned blade and met the handle of the rake. By eck! his nose looked awful and his lip was cut as well so he never saw the bucket and so once again he fell It could have been quite serious so when you take it, all in all he really was quite lucky when the manure heap, broke his fall. He staggered to his feet AGAIN Yea Gods he looked a sight and if he'd packed in at that point he'd have probably been alright but no, he'd got his dander up he just would not see sense. so in his rage he mistakenly leaned on the broken fence it's lucky that the duck pond is really shallow at the back unluckily when they get frightened it's well known that, ducks attack. He refused the help I offered I tried to make the peace but he slammed the gate behind him and that upset the Geese I think he got away unscathed but I couldn't really see he was hidden by the foliage as he was sitting in the tree. I put the Geese back in their pen then I heard a yell and crash the tree was now unoccupied and he was face down in the grass But just as quick he was up again and running through the trees which I thought rather strange until I saw the pursuing swarm of bees. Just then old Jack he ambled up He said “Yon looks a busy man, I’m sorry that I missed him though I’ve brought back his watering can.”

The Union Flag, also known as the Union Jack, is the flag of the United Kingdom. It retains an official or semi-official status in some Commonwealth Realms; for example, it is known as the Royal Union Flag in Canada. It is also used as an official flag in some of the smaller British overseas territories. The current design dates from the Union of Great Britain and Ireland in 1801.

Just experimenting with filter effects Thought I would repost this, as its topical :(( Have a great day everyone.....if you can........

The Beach Huts, a poem by Mike Bliss The weathered wood and peeling paint Hints of days of glory past When I skipped along the promenade Past postcards beyond my ken. But that was then, and now is now They've had a lick of paint, but Beach huts hark back to a quieter time Of quiet children, well-mannered gentlemen. We await the melted ice-cream cones Leering from the sky And corporate-suited gentlemen Watching traditions die. But it doesn't have to be this way We can keep this place alive With silly hats and fish and chips Seagulls, and you and I.