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  • Isles Apart, Caldeiras Negra & Comprida, Flores, Azores
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  • A large tree lost near the top of a mountain in high fog.
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  • Red shutters and sunlight on deserted house alongside a volcanic lake near Furness on Sao Miguel, Azores. Carol and I discovered this tiny but gorgeous cottage up in the trees above a stunning volcanic lake, bathed in sunshine.
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  • A large tree lost near the top of a mountain in high fog.
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  • The basin of this huge crater used to contain a lake but after huge eruptions in a nearby volcano in1957, fissures appeared and the water was able to seep away.
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  • This image is available up to 15x10" (A3) only.<br />
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Transatlantic stopover port of Horta. Weary sailors can rest and refresh themselves here before the onward journey to Europe or America.
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  • A thousand + miles from anywhere, these volcanic islands in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean can create orographic rainclouds at any time of year. However, this plus the warmer climate gives rise to lush vegetaion and spectacular greenery and plant life. Flores means Flowers!
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  • Vila Franca do Campo off season, deserted and lonely, dark and windswept. The sound of an occasional dog bark was heard over the sound of the relentless waves and an old man shuffled along an otherwise empty street.
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  • Over time, a buried building emerges from the ash of the 1957 Capelhinos Volcano, Azores, revealing everything from it's structure to it's decor. An explosion of lush succulent plants now pours out of the smashed interior.
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  • This vent is the opening for super hot gases from the volcanic magma just two miles below the surface. Mud faces appear through the sulphur smelling steam on the wall opposite.
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  • In seas with diminishing fish stocks, these small Azorzian boats still probably find more than most, stuck in the mid Atlantic, but today, with the seas rough and bad weather moving in, the whole town had gone quiet and no fishermen were to be seen.
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  • Lost Rivers of the Volcano, Cascata da Ribeira Grande, Flores
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  • Emerging History, 1957 Capelinhos Volcano, Faial
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  • The edge, just one edge, of the huge and tempestuous Atlantic Ocean. It has scared me yet fascinated me since childhood. So vast, so changeable, so alluring, so tempting, so deathly.  Wold Rock Lighthouse can be seen in the distance to the far right, and Longships light is just out of sight around the corner, but they can only help to indicate potential death to the unwary sailor. Here a yacht sails Eastward, for either Penzance or Falmouth, but what this image screamed to me, is that we are nothing more than a speck of kevlar on a huge dark and unforgiving ocean, most of the time we just play at the edges and only the hardy few or ocean going vessels ever really chance their fate here. When I visited Horta in the Azores in 2005, and witnessed tiny 28 footers wearily enter the large harbour, having sailed for weeks to get there from America, it really gave me my first indication about just how vast my Cornish sea really is, from South Africa to Antarctica and then over to the South America and the States and then right up to the Arctic - awesome body of water we dip our toes in!.
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  • If I knew I was dying, this would be an ideal place to go. On a grassy terrace high above the beach, looking South West over the Irish Sea, it brought back memories from so many places I’ve lived and visited, from Cornwall to the Azores, Scotland to the Canaries. The huge cliffs, steep drops and open expanse of the ocean would be a fitting place to finally close my eyes for the last time. I can only hope the poor sheep took similar uplifting thoughts with her!<br />
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A sheep skeleton lying on grass in bright afternoon Winter sunshine and rain showers over the Irish Sea and a rocky hillside on the hill top  above Nant Gwrtheyrn valley on the Northern Coast of the Llyn Peninsula, North Wales<br />
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From my book Nant Gwrtheyrn - Y Swyngyfaredd (The Enchantment)<br />
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This book is available for purchase here on www.glyndavies.com
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