Escape Progect 52 | Part 2

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Week 19 | The Embrace

I hadn’t intended to intrude, but sometimes, the most unexpected subjects find you.

[Geoff F]

Excellent real life shot.

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Week | 20 |
UNKNOWN BUG
It seems to have made my porch railing its home. Any ideas on what it might be?

[Geoff F]

That makes a nice fun photo.

Looks like one of the Buyme Bugs.

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A Buyme Bug, yes, you could be right. Im mostly familiar with the Florida Biteme Bugs. Plenty of those around.

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I liked the lighting. Shot this a little while ago.

Rain

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WEEK 21
Mountians
Spent the week traveling the back roads of Georgia, the Carolinas, and Tennessee—a lot of photos to go through.

[AntonioCorreia]

Daniel, in a carefully anticipated composition, this photograph conveys an enveloping serenity.
The beauty of the framing is remarkable, not just for the balance dominated by the sky but above all for the suggestion of what lies beyond the image, that hidden yet present world.

The mountains, appearing in soft layers fading into the distance, offer a visual reading of the landscape.
I sense that this place, even without fully revealing itself, holds a quiet, contemplative grandeur.
There is a restrained dialogue here between the predominant sky and earth, where silence seems to fill every space between light and shadow.

I like it very much.

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Thank you Antonio for providing your insightful perspective. I did some slight cropping and applied a filter. For speed I usually start out using the basic photo editor that came with my laptop. I’m off the grid now but when I get back will try to post a couple other renderings.

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Week 22 |
Innocence at Bat
These moments are more than early swings and missed catches—they're glimpses into the pure joy of learning, trying, and simply being. The uniforms may be oversized, and the plays unpredictable, but the spirit is all heart.

In one frame, a girl stands poised, while behind her, a boy kneels with his head bowed—perhaps exhausted, perhaps deep in thought, or just lost in his own world. That kind of raw, unscripted moment is the heart of childhood.

There's a beautiful innocence in their faces, one I hope they never lose—not just on the field but through every inning of life.
Bater Up

Outfield Ready

It's a Hit

Outfield Scrsmble

I got it off the Ground.

The Race Home

Great Game, Everyone.

Until next Time

[Cantab]

A wonderful set of action shots - and meditative shots!

The composition in the fourth photo is great, so many young kids all focused on a single thing - except for the young tyke deep in thought as he is in one of the other photos. And you managed to position the head of one of the youngsters immediately below the sign in the background, entitled Head Start!

I don't know how many photos you took of sprinting players. I enjoyed the two images where the child has both feet off the ground!

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Thank you, Bruce. I went to Tennessee last week to watch my grandson play in their final game of the season. The kid with the Head Start sign above his head is my grandson. I sat in a chair and took all the photos from that vantage point. I didn't take a lot of shots because my battery died, and the spare was dead.

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Week 23 | Bridges
Manhattan is connected to the surrounding boroughs and New Jersey by a network of 21 major bridges, including both vehicular and rail-only bridges. Photos are of some scenes from a ferry I took from the Bronx to Wall Street down the East River.

Number 2

Number 3

Number 4

[Geoff F]

They look good to me.

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Week 24 | Wings of Transformation

Have you ever thought about where the name “dragonfly” comes from, or why this insect has captivated so many cultures across time? Most of us have seen them darting through the air, their iridescent wings catching the light like living stained glass—but few pause to consider the deeper story behind them. The word “dragonfly” likely traces back to old European folklore, possibly a mistranslation of the Romanian phrase “dragon’s fly,” tied to the word “drac,” meaning both “devil” and “dragon.” In the Middle Ages, they were sometimes called “devil’s darning needles,” wrapped in eerie legends about stitching shut the mouths of liars. While the fear has faded, the name and mystique have endured.


Across the world, dragonflies carry powerful meanings. In Japan, they symbolize strength, courage, and joy—so revered that ancient texts once called Japan Akitsushima, “Isle of the Dragonfly.” Native American tribes often associate them with transformation, water, and spiritual messages. In Celtic and Norse mythology, dragonflies are linked to the fae, shape-shifting, and hidden realms. Chinese traditions view them as signs of harmony, prosperity, and the fleeting beauty of summer.


What makes dragonflies especially fascinating is how their lives reflect transformation. They begin in water as nymphs, eventually breaking free to become aerial marvels—an elegant metaphor for growth and change. With nearly 360-degree vision and a brief adult lifespan, they remind us to see clearly, adapt easily, and live fully in the present. They’re part myth, part miracle—and always worth a closer look.

[AntonioCorreia]

The macro of the first photograph reveals a world that normally escapes us. The details are fascinating - from the metallic texture of the exoskeleton to the delicacy of the wings, all captured with impressive sharpness.

Macro photography allows us to discover the true architecture of these insects. Those compound eyes look like cut jewels, and the wing veins create patterns that rival transparent Gothic stained glass.

The text you shared adds a fascinating cultural dimension. It's curious how something so small carries so many meanings - from medieval "demons" to symbols of transformation. The idea of Japan as the "Isle of the Dragonfly" is particularly poetic.
This combination of technical excellence with rich cultural context makes the post particularly interesting.
Thank you for sharing !

[billtils]

Nice shots, and a BIG thank you for the descriptions!

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Thank you Antonio and Bill for your comments. I thought about possibly trying to lighten the body of the fly in the second image. I might try it just to see and compare. I do like the current rendition emphasizing the wings.

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Week 26 | Sand Dunes
Over the past two days, I've been exploring St. George Island, a barrier island located just off the Florida Panhandle in the northern Gulf of Mexico. Part of Franklin County, the island stretches about 28 miles in length but remains relatively narrow—only around a mile wide at its broadest point.

#2
One of the island’s most striking features is its system of sand dunes, especially prominent on the eastern end. Rising up to 30 feet, these dunes are constantly shaped by wind and storms. Some are smooth and windswept, while others support sea oats, morning-glory, and even small pines that help hold the sand in place. More than just scenic, the dunes serve a vital purpose—protecting the island from erosion and storm surge.

#3
Native peoples lived here for thousands of years, leaving behind shell middens and artifacts that still surface from time to time. St. George Island is more than a beach getaway—it's a living landscape, shaped by natural forces and rich with history. With its brilliant sands, shifting dunes, and timeless beauty, it invites both quiet reflection and deep appreciation.

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Week 27 | Imitation |
Leaf or Belief


At first glance, I thought it was a bug—delicately clinging to a stem, legs poised, wings folded. But no. Just a leaf. Or maybe not just a leaf. Maybe something more.

It got me wondering: do insects imitate leaves to hide from the world, or do leaves, in some strange way, echo the form of insects? Is mimicry always one-directional, or is it sometimes mutual, like a silent agreement between two forms?

Nature doesn’t seem to care about originality. It cares about patterns, survival, and efficiency. And yet, what we call “imitation” can be indistinguishable from design, or even intention—if you look through the right lens. Maybe that’s the trick our minds play: we want to know who came first. We want to assign meaning. But the leaf and the insect aren’t debating identity. They simply are.

As a photographer, I’m drawn to these quiet visual riddles—moments where the boundaries blur, and what we think we know asks to be reconsidered. This image doesn’t solve anything. But it does what good imitation often does: it makes you look twice.