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Posts tagged ‘Haifa’

Free time at Haifa Harbour, Israel

Haifa is the city for work, Tel Aviv for relax, Jerusalem for praying, Acco for history … so they say. Still, some relax you can find also in Haifa, at the docks.

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Surfers …

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Chess players …

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Fishermen …

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European tourists …

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Crab killers …

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View of Haifa harbour from the city of Acco, located 17 kms away at the front bay side. In the center, the temple of Baha’i. Please appreciate the 70-200 mm f/2.8 definition. Click each picture to magnify.

Finibus Maris Nostri: the East end of the Mediterranean Sea at Haifa shores, Israel.

When in Haifa, climb up Mount Carmel at sunset and enjoy when the city lightens up at your feet.

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Sunset from Stella Maris Monastery on Mount Carmel.

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The Israel Oceanographic and Limnological Research (IOLR), Haifa.

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Bat Galim area from the uphill district Carmel Hof

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Haifa from Carmel Hof

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Haifa harbour and power plant.

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Enjoy the full night view from the awesome terrace of Barbarossa restaurant on the mountain top.

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Click to magnify each picture. All shot with D800 plus Nikon 16-35 mm f/4 or Nikon 70-200 mm f/2.8

In memory of Lorna Katharine Alison Mills, died Sept. 3rd 1924, aged 9 months, in Haifa, Israel

While wandering in an abandoned cemetery between Haifa railway and harbour, the only engrave I could read (click the picture to zoom) strongly caught my attention: “Heu Quanto Minus Est Cum Reliquis Versari, Quam Tui Meminisse!

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My poor Latin knowledge made me anyway translate: “How little there is to bury, compared to what you remind me“. That sentence got stuck into my mind and today what a surprise by googling it … it is the title of a sonnet:

The sweetest flower that ever saw the light, The smoothest stream that ever wandered by, The fairest star upon the brow of night, Joying and sparkling from his sphere on high, The softest glances of the stockdove’s eye, The lily pure, the mary–bud gold–bright, The gush of song that floodeth all the sky From the dear flutterer mounted out of sight,– Are not so pleasure–stirring to the thought, Not to the wounded soul so full of balm, As one frail glimpse, by painful straining caught Along the past’s deep mist–enfolded calm, Of that sweet face, not visibly defined, But rising clearly on the inner mind. (Henry Alford, 1810-1871)

Eighty-nine years passed since this stranger baby died, still such a huge pain touched my heart.

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