File:In Memory Of Glynn (22027213006).jpg
Original file (3,000 × 1,927 pixels, file size: 4.39 MB, MIME type: image/jpeg)
Captions
This image contains digital watermarking or credits in the image itself. The usage of visible watermarks is discouraged. If a non-watermarked version of the image is available, please upload it under the same file name and then remove this template. Ensure that removed information is present in the image description page and replace this template with {{Metadata from image}} or {{Attribution metadata from licensed image}}.
Caution: Before removing a watermark from a copyrighted image, please read the WMF's analysis of the legal ramifications of doing so, as well as Commons' proposed policy regarding watermarks. If the old version is still useful, for example if removing the watermark damages the image significantly, upload the new version under a different title so that both can be used. After uploading the non-watermarked version, replace this template with{{Superseded|new filename|version without watermarks}} .Bahasa Indonesia ∙ italiano ∙ eesti ∙ sicilianu ∙ Deutsch ∙ català ∙ magyar ∙ čeština ∙ română ∙ español ∙ português ∙ English ∙ hrvatski ∙ Plattdüütsch ∙ français ∙ Nederlands ∙ polski ∙ galego ∙ slovenščina ∙ suomi ∙ svenska ∙ Ελληνικά ∙ беларуская (тарашкевіца) ∙ български ∙ македонски ∙ русский ∙ українська ∙ മലയാളം ∙ ไทย ∙ 日本語 ∙ 中文 ∙ 中文(简体) ∙ 中文(繁體) ∙ עברית ∙ العربية ∙ فارسی ∙ +/− |
Summary
[edit]DescriptionIn Memory Of Glynn (22027213006).jpg |
There is no better place in the world to watch the birth of a morning sun. Glynn was my uncle. Well, he wasn't actually my uncle, he was my mothers cousins husband (I have no idea what that made him to me). I think its second-cousin-once removed-in-law. Or something like that :). Either way, he was quite possibly the most gentle, most decent person I have ever had the opportunity to meet. He had lived in Corfe for the last thirty or so years, having moved down here from Huddersfield when he was in his early twenties. He met his soon to be wife, got married and never returned north. He never lost his accent, but he became a Dorset man, through and through. Up until about 18 months ago, I barely knew him, but spent the latter part of 2014 really getting to know him. He liked me and became a bit of a father figure. He showed huge interest in my photography, his favourite ever image being one I took of Corfe a few months before. He loved to see how it looked in the mist and sunrise from the top of the hill and he would offer me suggestions on where I should go to get the best views. This hill was his favourite place and although he had gotten older and could not longer bring his dogs up here for walks, he used to tell me how this hill gave the best views of the castle and village. He was one of the most popular people in the village and he would often frequent the local British Legion. He took me in there a few times, introducing me as his "nephew, the photographer". He knew everyone, and everyone knew him. What's more important, everyone who met him, liked him. They loved him, in fact. He was such a kind person and one of the funniest people I have ever met. He was a giant of a man, at least 6ft 4 but built like a coat hanger; wiry and slight. But his heart was as big as all of Dorset and he is missed sorely. He died suddenly last January. Ever since then, I haven't been able to come back to this hill to take photos. That was until this morning. I am happy with this image, I wish I could have shown my "uncle." I arrived at Corfe Castle at just after 5.45am, when the sky was still dark and my path invisible. Slowly, I made my way upwards, letting my memory guide my burning feet and was accompanied by nothing but the eerie silence. A cockerel crowed in the distance, most likely annoyed that I was awake before him. He sounded flustered and irate; I am sure that howl was for me. After what seemed like too long, I arrived at the top of the hill with aching legs and stretched lungs. There was a little more light at the top, thanks to the moon that still sat perched above the clouds and for once its beams were not broken by the trees. I could see the path I needed to follow, that snaked down and around the top of the hill, flanked on either side by furs and gorse. Eventually, I made my way into position. The hill was deserted. The moon vanished behind the gathering clouds and once more I was plunged into darkness. The rustle of the bushes and trees began to echo in my ears. I heard something scamper into a nearby bush as I stood in position, waiting for the sun to rise. Slowly, the darkness lifted and I was faced with this... |
Date | |
Source | In Memory Of Glynn |
Author | Lies Thru a Lens |
Licensing
[edit]- You are free:
- to share – to copy, distribute and transmit the work
- to remix – to adapt the work
- Under the following conditions:
- attribution – You must give appropriate credit, provide a link to the license, and indicate if changes were made. You may do so in any reasonable manner, but not in any way that suggests the licensor endorses you or your use.
This image was originally posted to Flickr by Lies Thru a Lens at https://flickr.com/photos/44133834@N02/22027213006. It was reviewed on 16 November 2015 by FlickreviewR and was confirmed to be licensed under the terms of the cc-by-2.0. |
16 November 2015
File history
Click on a date/time to view the file as it appeared at that time.
Date/Time | Thumbnail | Dimensions | User | Comment | |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
current | 22:16, 16 November 2015 | 3,000 × 1,927 (4.39 MB) | Wilfredor (talk | contribs) | Transferred from Flickr via Flickr2Commons |
You cannot overwrite this file.
File usage on Commons
There are no pages that use this file.
Metadata
This file contains additional information such as Exif metadata which may have been added by the digital camera, scanner, or software program used to create or digitize it. If the file has been modified from its original state, some details such as the timestamp may not fully reflect those of the original file. The timestamp is only as accurate as the clock in the camera, and it may be completely wrong.
Camera manufacturer | Canon |
---|---|
Camera model | Canon EOS 5DS R |
Exposure time | 3/1 sec (3) |
F-number | f/8 |
ISO speed rating | 200 |
Date and time of data generation | 07:02, 9 October 2015 |
Lens focal length | 24 mm |
Width | 5,792 px |
Height | 8,688 px |
Bits per component |
|
Pixel composition | RGB |
Orientation | Normal |
Number of components | 3 |
Horizontal resolution | 300 dpi |
Vertical resolution | 300 dpi |
Software used | Adobe Photoshop CC 2015 (Macintosh) |
File change date and time | 14:31, 9 October 2015 |
Exposure Program | Manual |
Exif version | 2.3 |
Date and time of digitizing | 07:02, 9 October 2015 |
APEX shutter speed | −1.584963 |
APEX aperture | 6 |
APEX exposure bias | 0 |
Maximum land aperture | 1 APEX (f/1.41) |
Metering mode | Pattern |
Flash | Flash did not fire, compulsory flash suppression |
DateTimeOriginal subseconds | 00 |
DateTimeDigitized subseconds | 00 |
Color space | Uncalibrated |
Focal plane X resolution | 2,413.3333435059 |
Focal plane Y resolution | 2,413.3333435059 |
Focal plane resolution unit | 3 |
Custom image processing | Normal process |
Exposure mode | Manual exposure |
White balance | Manual white balance |
Scene capture type | Standard |
Serial number of camera | 023021000969 |
Lens used | 24mm |
Date metadata was last modified | 15:31, 9 October 2015 |
Unique ID of original document | CBA28623124E7AB4F52CA391052D9531 |
Structured data
Items portrayed in this file
depicts
some value
9 October 2015
3 second
24 millimetre
200
image/jpeg
- Corfe Castle
- Hills of Dorset
- Views of Dorset
- Clouds in England
- Clouds and blue sky in the United Kingdom
- Sunrises of Dorset
- Sunlight through clouds at sunrise or sunset
- Clouds at sunrise
- Golden hour landscapes
- Mist (visible atmospheric water)
- Long exposure photographs of the United Kingdom
- Trees at sunrise
- October 2015 in Dorset