Today's Photo Challenge is: WATER DROPLETS Quote it or Share it 👇 #Droplets #Nature #NaturePhotography #Green

What’s something you’ve spent an unreasonable amount of time learning… ...and don’t regret at all?

🇺🇸 Most Badass Ballplayers: Combat Veteran Edition #2 Ted Williams Ted Williams, widely regarded as the greatest pure hitter who ever lived, was one badass ballplayer. Born August 30, 1918, in San Diego, California. He made his major league debut with the Boston Red Sox in 1939 and quickly became one of the most feared hitters in baseball. In 1941, at just 22 years old, he hit .406, the last time any player has hit over .400 in a season. He followed that up by winning another batting title in 1942. By the end of the 1942 season, Williams was already a superstar and widely considered the best hitter in the game. Then, after the attack on Pearl Harbor, Williams enlisted in the United States Marine Corps and trained as a pilot. He missed the 1943, 1944, and 1945 seasons, three full prime years of his career, while serving stateside during World War II. When he returned in 1946, there were questions about whether he could pick up where he left off. He answered them immediately, winning the American League MVP award in his first season back. Over the next several years he continued to dominate, winning the Triple Crown in 1947 and another batting title in 1948. When the Korean War broke out, Williams was recalled to active duty as a Marine Corps pilot. In 1952 and 1953 he flew 39 combat missions over North Korea in the F9F Panther jet. He often flew as wingman for future astronaut John Glenn. On one mission his plane was hit by the enemy and caught fire. He made a successful belly landing and jumped out and ran off the wingtip to safety. He was hit by enemy fire at least three times during his tour. After Korea, Williams returned to baseball in 1953 and continued one of the most remarkable careers in baseball history. He was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1966. Ted Williams, superstar athlete, answered the call for his country twice. Thank you, Ted! 🫡🇺🇸⚾

Two hives went into Dave's orchard corner this spring, and Keith, who has assessed and tested and dismantled every single thing on that farm, has assessed the bees exactly once and elected, for the first time in his life, to leave a thing entirely alone. This is genuinely without precedent. Keith tests everything. He has eaten a latch, a pocket square, a set of water heater instructions, and the better part of Dave's left wellington. He climbs what cannot be climbed and opens what cannot be opened and investigates the world with a relentless prehensile curiosity that has cost Dave three hundred and eighty-seven pounds in gates. There is no object in his domain he has not, at some point, put his lips to in the spirit of enquiry. He walked up to the hives on the first day. Dave watched from the yard with the specific dread of a man who has seen this goat approach things before. Keith stood in front of the nearest hive. He watched the entrance, the constant stream of bees coming and going, the low working hum of forty thousand individuals about their business. He brought his nose to within a sensible distance. He held there for a while, doing whatever calculation it is that goes on behind those rectangular eyes. And then he stepped back, turned, and walked away to the bramble, and he has not gone near the hives since. Dave's log: "He left the bees. I don't know what passed between Keith and the bees. Whatever it was, the bees won the negotiation without appearing to negotiate, which is the only time anything on this farm has managed it. I have not added a column. I am simply relieved." There is a kind of intelligence that tests everything to find its limit. And there is a rarer kind that meets a thing humming with quiet collective purpose and recognises, without needing to be stung, that here at last is something better left to get on with its work. Keith has both. The bees are fine. The bees were always going to be fine. Even Keith knows where the line is, and the line, it turns out, is forty thousand of anything, all agreeing.

Four flights. 715 hours in space. Two trips to the Moon — and never once a footstep on its surface. Jim Lovell was one of the most experienced astronauts of his generation. He orbited the Moon aboard Apollo 8 in 1968, helping deliver a Christmas Eve broadcast that reached millions around the world. Later, as commander of Apollo 13, he led his crew through one of the most dangerous crises in spaceflight history and brought them safely home. He passed away on August 7, 2025, at the age of 97. Lovell never lived to see Artemis II launch. He wasn't there for the countdown, the liftoff, or the mission that would carry astronauts farther from Earth than any humans had traveled before. But before his death, he left behind something special. Months earlier, Lovell recorded a message for the Artemis II crew — Reid Wiseman, Victor Glover, Christina Koch, and Jeremy Hansen. NASA kept the recording private until the right moment. That moment came on April 6, 2026. As the crew floated aboard Orion on Flight Day 6, just hours before setting a new distance record from Earth, a familiar voice filled the spacecraft. "Hello, Artemis II. This is Apollo astronaut Jim Lovell. Welcome to my old neighborhood." He spoke about Apollo 8, about seeing Earth rise above the lunar horizon, and about the wonder of looking back at a small, fragile planet from deep space. He told the crew he was proud to pass the torch and reminded them to enjoy the view. Then came his final words. "Good luck and Godspeed from all of us here on the good Earth." For a moment, the crew sat quietly. One astronaut finally broke the silence. "What an awesome message from Jim Lovell." Soon after, they pulled out a silk Apollo 8 mission patch that had traveled from Earth with them — a piece of Lovell's own mission history, sent by his son before launch. Later that day, Artemis II surpassed Lovell's distance record. The man who set it had already congratulated them. He just wasn't there to watch. Some records are broken. Some legacies keep traveling long after their owners are gone.

Splash!

Got to photograph some intense severe weather across the High Plains of Colorado and Nebraska with @perryralph this weekend. Little did we know, the area we were in was under a tornado warning toward the end of our storm shoot! That brings us to today’s #MoodyMonday photo. ⛈️ 📸