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Crows Nerve Fails

Crow, feeling his brain slip,
Finds his every feather the fossil of a murder.

Who murdered all these?
These living dead, that root in his nerves and his blood
Till he is visibly black?

How can he fly from his feathers?
And why have they homed on him?

Is he the archive of their accusations?
Or their ghostly purpose, their pining vengeance?
Or their unforgiven prisoner?

He cannot be forgiven.

Ted Hughes

Good morning Coso, this’ll be a week.

My promise to myself is to just chill the feck out. Worry changes nothing.

Playing with the Lightroom and Photoshop upgrades. colour grading and sky replacement tools are something else.

5 minute edit.

Keep going back to this pic and playing with it. The original was so washed out. Think I finally have it as I remember the day.

Cliffs of Moher

Having a chill Monday. Playing in Lightroom to see if I can improve any of my pics. Think this one has really improved. Maybe a bit dark but I like it! I usually overdo post processing. Really should watch a few tutorials.

original colour autochrome from 1926, taken at the proposed site of the Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument in the Crow Indian Reservation, Montana. The chap on the right (named Curley) was one of General Custer’s scouts. (This isn't colourised).

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