The Flickr Mountains Image Generatr

The Rio Grande Gorge Bridge near Taos, New Mexico. HDR processed with Lightroom and Photoshop.

556.036 od SVV spotted near Medzibrod on line 172 of ŽSR. Train was destinated from Zvolen/Banská Bystrica to Hronec as a part of "Štokrom za Čiernohronskou železnicou".

Standing on top of Mt. Sneffels one of Colorado’s many peaks rising above 14,000 ft. Mt. Sneffels is situated in the San Juan Mountain range in Southwest Colorado. Those lines you can see in the trees on the mountain beyond the exposed ridge is Telluride Ski Resort.

Via Ferrata Via Farinetta at Saillon in the Valais.

Lushfoil Photography Sim
Developed by Matt Newell
Published by Annapurna Interactive

AI generated

We go back towards the rock formation Cinque Torri :)

Cinque Torri (in Italian: "Five Towers") comprise a small rock formation belonging to Nuvolao group in the Eastern Dolomites, south-west of Cortina d'Ampezzo. The group is formed by five rock towers with a maximum elevation of 2,361 m (Torre Grande). Cinque Torri, as all the other mountains in the area, are made of dolomite, with a pale grey colour. The towers are popular tourist destination and provide good rock climbing with various routes at a range of grades up all of the towers. In winter, Cinque Torri belong to an important ski area.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Idziemy z powrotem w kierunku grupy skał Cinque Torri :)

Cinque Torri (w jęz. włoskim: "Pięć Wież") – grupa skał we wschodnich Dolomitach, na południowy zachód od Cortiny d’Ampezzo. Grupę tworzy pięć wież skalnych z najwyższym szczytem Torre Grande, o wysokości 2361 m n.p.m. Podobnie jak inne góry w okolicy, Cinque Torri zbudowane są z dolomitu o jasnoszarym kolorze. Grupa stanowi popularny cel wycieczek turystycznych, jest znanym rejonem wspinaczkowym, zaś zimą przyjeżdżają tu amatorzy narciarstwa. W pobliżu skał znajduje się muzeum upamiętniające walki z okresu I wojny światowej.

A peek-a-boo view of famous Neuschwanstein Castle from a forest hike in the mountains above.

www.kwphotos.com

The lake didn’t ripple so much as hum—low and quiet, like a sleeping giant murmuring in his dreams. Lake Hāwea stretched wide and still, a sacred basin carved by ancient glaciers and guarded by peaks that had witnessed everything from the rising of the first fires to the latest flicker of a human soul aching for meaning. The clouds floated like old thoughts above it, trailing their reflections across the surface, soft and pale as smoke in the wind.

A lone figure stood at the edge of the lake—though maybe "stood" was the wrong word. He existed there, paused between the rhythmic breath of sky and stone, feeling something unnameable push against the cage of his ribs. Time had slowed to a molasses drip, and in that thick silence, he could almost hear the earth remembering itself.

This was the kind of place where thoughts didn’t come so much as arrive, born full-grown from the landscape. He wondered if the lake ever missed the glacier that had shaped it. He wondered if absence always had to hurt, or if it could just be a shape you carried inside you, like water remembers ice.

One might’ve said the lake was alive with some kind of raw, unfiltered truth—like the stuff behind your eyes when you close them and press down hard. It was the kind of place where your mind cracked open a little at the edges, just enough to let in the wind, the wet earth, the ghosts of everything you forgot to believe in.

And standing there, swallowed by the vast kindness of the wild, the man realized: some places don’t need to speak to tell you what you already know. They just stand there, still and ancient and listening, waiting for you to listen back.

Would you like to add a character's perspective or make it more surreal?

Spring in Dolomites