#ferguson canyon

[raplele]

[beardedmrbean]

An Orange County Superior Court judge was arrested on suspicion of murder late Thursday after his wife was fatally shot in their Anaheim Hills home, according to law enforcement sources.

Anaheim police arrived at a home in the 8500 block of East Canyon Vista Drive shortly after 8 p.m. after reports of a shooting. Law enforcement sources said officers made an emergency entry and found Sheryl Ferguson, 65, inside the residence suffering from at least one gunshot wound. She was pronounced dead at the scene, police said in a statement.

Officers arrested Jeffrey Ferguson, an Orange County Superior Court Judge, at the home. He was booked into an Orange County jail in lieu of $1 million bail, according to police reports.

Property records show Ferguson, 72, and his wife as residents of the home.

Law enforcement sources said a son of the judge and his wife were at the home.

Ferguson has served as a judge in Orange County Superior Court since 2015. He previously spent more than three decades with the Orange County district attorney's office, during which he worked as part of the Major Narcotics Enforcement Team, according to the North Orange County Bar Assn. Ferguson served as president of the association from 2012 to 2014.

Colleagues who spoke on the condition of anonymity said they were not aware of any issues between the judge and his wife.

“Absolutely shocked. I had them sit on my couch. I would never have thought this for a minute,” one said Friday morning.

Ferguson was admonished by the state's Commission on Judicial Performance for comments connected to a heated 2016 judicial contest between Orange County Superior Court Judge Scott Steiner, who was running for reelection, and Karen Schatzle, a senior deputy district attorney for the county. Ferguson was backing Steiner, who had been censured in 2014 for having sex with two women in his chambers.

According to the commission, which investigates judicial misconduct, Schatzle posted a comment on a Facebook page of the North Orange County Bar Assn. on April 26, 2016, saying, “Scott Steiner uses his office for sex and yet so many aren’t concerned, crazy politics!"

In response, Ferguson went to Facebook and claimed: “Karen Shatzle has sex with defense lawyer whike shw is DA on his cases and nobody cares. Interesting politics.”

The commission ruled that Ferguson’s comment violated ethics rules and that he had acted with “reckless disregard for the truth,” noting that Ferguson could not produce any factual support for his claim.

[fergusontakesonallcomers]

Ferguson Takes on all comers one shell at a time!!! part one: Equestrian Epic: chapter one: Good aim, Good Lines, good guy?

The explosion rocked the facility as Incel grunts ran too and fro in their cheap suits and green masks. Ferguson slammed through the wall via high explosives liberated from the building's armaments.

"I am the one who knocks", Ferguson Growled as he stood in the breach. He was covered in layers of rotting clothing, filth, and gore, the first layer was his furry skin cape gleaned from countless victims. it was singed, burnt, cut AND torn lying limp over his lithe toned muscled body. underneath was a rotting trench coat which clung to him through sweat and viscera and two rotting NFT monkey skulls tied to his shoulders as makeshift armour/trophies. His chest was bare and pocket marked by medals of previous fights fiercely fought. with bullet craters, clawed canyons and blade bites his chest was a fleshy carving of a scene of victory coated in previous opponents and grime, he hadn't truly left the battlefield since he entered it. His legs were covered by sewn parts of his victims and adorned with pockets and sashes used to hold bullets, bombs and a variety of useful, abusive, illegal and immoral devices/substances.

he grinned his teeth and inhuman glowing eyes flashing out from beneath his macabre furry wolf head cowl. Levelling his antique trench broom shotgun he fired from the hip at the disorganised soldiers as he advanced, crushing limbs poking through the rubble with his heavy boots. His target was the control room just one wall away, using his last brace of liberated explosive he blew the wall to smithereens and showered the occupants in rubble. Striding through the gap he pulled his twin .50's and put lead through the survivors heads.

"labels, things ought to have labels" Ferguson muttered as he looked at the controls in front of him. "why do we need to do any of this technical nonsense anyway" groaned a bored voice in his head, "smash bash an’ mash, now that's how we always went about things before and it always worked”. "shut up chat" Ferguson replied, looking behind himself to see if reinforcements had arrived yet, "I'm trying to think". "Thinkings no good in our line of work, just killing, and lots of it", "But chat, I've been thinking, as I've said. If we were doin' what's right wouldn't we have more friends? allies? something feels off...". Ferguson trailed off sweeping his gaze back along the panel as boots started echoing down the corridor.

Ferguson was no stranger to control panels, he knew a trick that always worked, assuming it was an option of course and that was to press the really big red button, failing that you just sort of hit the console until something happened. In this case Ferguson triggered the collapse of a portal he hadn't noticed. "Chat, is this real?", "Last I asked Mr. Liver we were well and truly sober", "Bugger". a bolt of energy shot past Fergusons head and a wet meaty sound, followed by a good deal of screaming could be heard in the corridor behind him. Ferguson frowned at the instruments, "funny, that usually goes better, suppose I'll have to check the owner's manual". which he did, taking it from its place taped to a wall he sat on the floor, his back resting against the panel and thumbing through the manual. Naturally the minute he found the page labelled prisoner release, the base fantastically exploded in a huge blue blast.

Harry was not having a good day, honestly he often wondered if he was having a good life, now especially, however things had been going tragically wrong. He’d just found the prison his friends, and hopefully his sister, had been taken to and a big 4Chan base to boot when bam, Ferguson was there too. Then after having managed to successfully avoid him and locate the cells his friends were in, everything had blown up and he plummeted to his death along with the building.

“If im dead, then why is it so painful” Harry muttered, “That’s because you're not dead” came a familiar tone, “Upsy daisies” and with that Harry was hoisted face to face with the grinning vision of his nightmares, Ferguson. 

“So” Ferguson began turning to look over the edge of some battlements, “If what you're doing is all correct then what's the course of action here? “Cuz I'm starting to get curious, y'know”. Harry shifted his back aching from where he’d been lying on smooth crystal and decided to play along until he could find his friends. 

“I’m, uh, where are we exactly?” Harry asked as he tried to gauge whether he’d been stripped of his weapons by the feel of the weight of his gear. Harry was  5 foot 6, muscular, Harry wore a torn bulletproof vest and a large backpack, various tools hung from his belt and he had matted filthy brown hair with a grime smeared face. 

“Equestria. I took the liberty of setting up a comfortable nest in, whatsit called in English, th’ castle of friendship', It’s quite the nightmare in Ponyville y’know.” Ferguson replied. Harry thought of his own abducted sister and dove to the railing with a dry mouth and witnessed a scene of absolute carnage. 4chan soldiers were swarming over the town, crawling over the wreckage hoisting out survivors, working on fortifications lugging around weapons, organising corpses and here and there flashes of gunfire signalled areas of resistance. 

Harry worked to choke back tears, “Good god”, “No Chat I told you, I want to see what Harry thinks before we get to work, besides I don't fancy fighting an army on our own.”  “Oh good god”, Harry thought to himself. “I've lost my friends and I'm trapped in a castle with a psychopathic maniac who talks to himself”. 

Ferguson was growing irritable, why were they just sitting here? He was beginning to rethink his whole idea. Surely if he was wrong Harry would’ve been solving the problem  quicker and better than he could. Why was he just sitting here with his jaw agape? “Yeah Chat i’m having second thoughts now too, oi harry what's th’ bloody hold up?!”

Harry knew better than to irritate a roided up monster and said, “Just one more second, I need a drink and then we’ll try to organise some kind of resistance I suppose.” Feguson grinned he liked this idea, violence was hard to pull off on your lonesome, you had to be tricky and conniving it distracted from the splattering he liked. But with others watching your back everyone else was an equally valid target that could cover his back, plus Harry was a hero right? Hero Harry? That meant unlike him people would actually follow Harry. “Good, good that’s certainly an idea, the survivors have been gathering here and at the school. Haven’t spoken to them yet though, here have a sip of this you could use it to clean out an engine.” Harry caught the flask thrown his way. Harry would’ve rather had a sip of water to moisten his mouth but at least this would help his nerves, he tipped back the flask and started gagging almost dropping it, it was like his innards had been lit on fire. Ferguson laughed and said something about “It's an ungodly mix of things from here and there!” ,“Let’s just go downstairs,” Harry said, coughing.

Ferguson swung the doors open and put his hands on his hips a grin splitting his face wide as he proceeded to shock everyone in the room by speaking fluent Ponyish. Ponyish was a fairly high pitched dialect which other than the odd bit here and there describing diseases or something odd not on earth or vice versa you could find a match between an earth word and a Equestria word 1/1. 

Harry waited for Ferguson to stop talking before asking, “what are they saying?”. Ferguson turned to Harry with a grin “No use for fighting, they’re all civilians. They ran here in a panic instead of going straight to the tunnel in the friendship school. It leads into the Everfree Forest.”. Harry, making sure to think quickly this time, said, “We’ll escort them to the forest then”.

Kit and Blackfur Proudbike had quite the day today, raiding  a heavily armed base, accidentally running into Ferguson, falling out of the sky, becoming involved in a brutal skirmish in the middle of some odd town filled with brightly coloured ponies whom they couldn't communicate with and then finally escaping to now, spying on harry and Ferguson dashing for cover several ponies in tow from the top floor of some school. “Nya what's this?” Kit asked, prompting Blackfur to come back over and hold his hand out for the binoculars. 

“The fuck” Blackfur said, “It’s not like Ferguson to take hostages, if he did we’d…” Blackfur trailed off. Kit however wasn't fond of silence nor capable of reading a room well. “Maybe it’s mind control!” Kit then trailed off herself with a devilish grin laughing to herself and caused all of Blackfurs hair to go up on end, Kit scared most everyone else she met too. “Whatever it is, we’ve got to do something”. 

Ferguson was starting to enjoy himself again, it wasn't mind numbing levels of violence sure but escorting refugees was an interesting and refreshing change. It’s why he was attacking the 4Chan base in the first place, to see what it might feel like to help people he usually would’ve slaughtered. Then he opened the door to the school and was blown backwards.

“Nya PIPEBOMB!!!” screamed Kit, dropping it from the second story before Blackfur could stop her. “The fuck man he’s going to come up here and fuckin’ end us, and who knows what he’ll do to harry?!” Blackfur had grabbed Kit and was shaking her by the shirtfront. 

Kit was a small calico cat girl clocking in around 4 feet, she wore a bright orange jacket over a cutesy shirt she made herself which, in fading pink glitter had emblazoned on it “go for the vitals”, on her lower half she wore a light purple skirt, she was also caked in gore and viscera. Blackfur was an average sized anthropomorphic wolf/dog ish thing with black fur and a scared face who was wearing dirtied and ripped up clothes. His leather jacket was dyed a light blue matching his skirt

Harry had actually decided to push Ferguson away from the worst of it. Ferguson wasn't that easy to stop, something just pushed him that Harry couldn't understand. They’d tried this trick before too, dropping things on him, crushing, explosions, none of it ever seemed to stick. So Harry had decided to try and defuse the situation instead; he could attempt to finish Ferguson off while he was on the ground but that hadn't worked the last time they’d tried; it had ended with the mutilation and death of a good friend of his instead.

“NYA!” Kit said in shock watching the events, Blackfur stared in shock “What the hell” he muttered, entirely astounded. 

“Harry, we're under attack!” Ferguson shouted gleefully, jumping to his feet holding his shotgun. “No!” Harry said, “They’re my friends, you haven’t talked to them about the plan yet so they acted in defence” Harry moved to block the entrance to the school with his body. Ferguson stood still a second before lowering his shotgun, “Ah right! We were building a resistance that's right! Silly me.” Ferguson chuckled to himself and slung the shotgun across his back and Harry stood aside to let him through, sighing with relief. 

The inside of the school being made for the very small ponies who were only a rough foot off the ground was extremely cramped despite the fact it was made to be spacious enough for large crowds the ceiling supposed to be high still barely fit Ferguson. 

Blackfur smoothed his skirt and took the sawd off shotgun from inside his light blue jacket, “What the fuck is Harry doing” he wondered aloud. Kit had however already left to go downstairs and was not even remotely listening to Blackfur.

“Nya! It’s so lovely to see you again!” Kit said, throwing herself violently into Harry’s arms, “I'm not happy to see you again though” Kit said, turning to stick her tongue out at Ferguson. 

“Honestly I have no idea who you are anyway” Ferguson said with a shrug, “Probably all the knocks I've taken to the head” he finished, rapping on his head with one fist. “Huh, What do you mean? " asked Harry who was doing his best to turn towards Ferguson with Kit insistently hanging onto him. “I don’t really remember much, heh, I’m not even sure if my actual name is Ferguson, me memories, they get bashed out of my head every now and then ya know?” This was a big reason Ferguson had chosen to spare Harry, he’d spent time tracking him and watched once how Harry had taken a knock to the head and couldn't remember who he was. But instead of forgetting his friends had shared stories to help him remember, Ferguson didn't have that he just forgot, he was envious. 

“You mean, you're not even sure who you are? What you're doing?” Harry asked, his fear was starting to subside somewhat and he was growing curious instead. He'd only ever seen Ferguson as a looming inevitable threat before, but here he was getting to learn about his inner workings. Ferguson stood still and thought, with his face covered to Harry it just looked like he’d frozen stock still but Ferguson thought better when he wasn't moving. “Funny” Ferguson thought to himself, “I can’t seem to remember my exact goal, nor much past the last 10 years”. “No” chat admitted, “It’s pretty hazy, our goal that is, I believe it was something about… crushing degeneracy? Yes, that's got to be it!”

Finally Ferguson jolted back to reality, “I've counselled with chat and we believe that our goal is something to do with degeneracy, crushing furries to death and the like. Also Chat cannot remember anything more than myself”.

“Degenerates like my parents!?” Blackfur snarled, rehetorically, from where he stood in the hallway his lips pulled back to show his canine teeth, a sawd off held up menacingly in one hand “The fuck are you doing Harry?” he asked without looking away from Ferguson.

“He, uh, asked me to show him the ropes of being a hero, and since he’d saved me from the ruins of the base I decided I couldn’t exactly decline.” Harry gave Blackfur a begging look, pleading with him not to do anything stupid. Blackfur knew better than to test Ferguson's excellent sharpshooting, and tucked away his firearm and before he could say anything else they heard the unmistakable sounds of helicopter blades.

“The hell?” Harry started, “4chan's never had that kinda power before” Ferguson finished, and then several Marines busted down the door as the rest of the helicopters passed overhead. 

“Nyah!” Kit said in shock disentangling herself from  Harry who drew a small pistol and started firing at the door as he retreated, Blackfur started inventing New obscenities and held up his Sawd Off, Ferguson however was grinning and holding up his shotgun.

The ponies they’d escorted having long since left Ferguson and co had only themselves to look out for as they started backing down the corridor, Ferguson holding the front with rapid fire bursts from his shotgun. Explosions were audibel in the distance as Ferguson shouted, “there's a tunnel in the library, It’s been a consistent nuisance throughout my career!.

Finally dodging into a book-filled room Blackfur grabbed a bookcase which must’ve been huge by pony standards and waited for Ferguson to enter the room before throwing it across the entrance. Ferguson and Harry helped throw down bookcases in a blockade as Kit disappeared towards the back of the room.

“Nya! I don't know how we could Pawsibly fit in this tunnel” Kit said looking at a small vent and grinning at her bad joke. Harry and Balckfur looked on in horror before a huge glittering root smashed a huge hole in the floor to pass through. Ferguson spoke before anyone else could, “Treehouse of Harmony, or sometimes just tree,  they’ve either fought me or helped me before depending on the world, they often take offence to the same things I do”. 

Harry jumped down the hole first and helped down Kit as Blackfur landed next to him and Fished a flashlight from inside his pocket, Ferguson followed after he rolled a light pipe bomb to the library entrance.

The tunnel was surprisingly spacious and the quadrio moved silently through the tunnel. Harry wondered how he could possibly get out of this scenario alive, sure Ferguson would grow bored at some point and kill them all. Blackfur stood behind Ferguson next to Kit and wondered if he could plug him where he stood and live to tell the tale. Ferguson was trying to clear his head and make chat shut up so he could have a proper think about his situation. He was enjoying himself but if Harry was right was what he really wanted to know. Kit, the crazed little gremlin she was, was bored and didn't so much lack the sense to know Ferguson was dangerous  as that she didn't care. 

Kit leaped onto Fergusons matted fur cloak and scrambled to the top stopping when her head was at the same height as his so as not to slam hers into the ceiling. “Nyah! This is a great view” Kit said, taking her right hand off of Fergusons shoulder and using it to shade her eyes as though she was a look out. Ferguson on his part was startled out of his thoughts by Kit suddenly scrambling up onto his shoulder, though he was so strong and heavy he hardly felt it. “Yes I suppose so” Ferguson agreed, deciding he didn't care about her placement, it was the first time someone had ever touched him without the intention of killing him in ages as far back as his memory could serve. 

Harry almost sighed audibly at relief and began to wonder if Ferguson actually meant it when he wanted Harry to show him how to be a better person. Blackfur scowled and wondered if he knew anyone that made up Ferguson’s coat. Kit was still enjoying herself, “I bet I could mount a machine gun up here and right you into battle”. Ferguson rubbed his chin, “Dunno ‘bout that, I think it’d tear off my face on accident whenever I turned my head.”. Kit frowned at the veto of her idea, “awwwwwwww” she whined pouting before she had a magnificent idea. “I know! What if I mounted it over your head or on it like a harness!”. Ferguson was having a hard time finding flaws with this proposal, “No, that's an interesting idea” Ferguson agreed.

Harry tuned out his companions and began messing with a radar at his belt as he studied portal signatures in the area to try and read 4chan's movements. Next he took out a radio and started trying to tune it, but the stone walls cut off all signal. Then Harry's head bolted up straight, “Hold on a minute, those were professional soldiers trying to kill us a minute ago.”.

“Like, from a country?” Ferguson asked, “yeah, america, but what's a country doing helping 4Chan like this?” Harry said, puzzled. “I noticed that they kept moaning the words"Oil " and"Freedom " as they chased us,” Blackfur guessed. “So they're teaming up with 4Chan for natural resources because they know 4Chan has the power to bring them to underdeveloped nations.” Harry hypothesised. 

Light became suddenly visible at the end of the cavern and with its noise, machine gun fire and explosions filled the air as they got closer before a helicopter slammed to the ground blocking off the exit. 

Ferguson, Kit still on his back, advanced into the flaming wreckage as kit stared wide eyed as Ferguson picked up large chunks of burning helicopter and, grunting as his flesh seared off his bones, flung them to either side of him allowing his companions to get through. Covering their eyes against the bright sunlight Ferguson and co advanced into a battlefield Helicopters were circling something on a cliff above leadboarding it with bullets and then dousing it in rocket blasts,“Fortunate Son” could be audibly heard from the loudspeakers. Brightly coloured psychokinetic bolts and rubble flew back at the helicopters  who nimbly dodged side to side. 

Ferguson grinned maliciously, “You wouldn't happen to have a grappling hook would you Harry?”Harry gulped his mouth dryer than a mummified kitten. “Yeah, but you aren’t planning on scaling the cliff with those things above us are you?” Harry asked as he handed Ferguson the gear, “Watch this” Ferguson said to Harry, then to Kit he said, “Hold on lassie” and then he threw the grappling hook into the nearest helicopter, pulled the rope taught, and started to climb.  

Several marines started firing at Ferguson as he nimbly climbed the rope, “Grab my point fifties Kit there on me hip!” Nimbly Kit used her claws to climb down Ferguson as bullets rained around her. Gritting her teeth as a bullet scraped her arm she grabbed the one on the right of his hip and landed a shot point blank between a marines eyes and kept the others heads down as Ferguson climbed into the craft. “Shoot the pilot kit!” Ferguson shouted as he prepared to jump into the next helicopter. Only two were left. Ferguson successfully jumped into the next grunting with pain as bullets wracked his body. As Ferguson stooped, Kit who now had both of his pistols emptied them into the crew of the helicopter before turning back to Ferguson while the helicopter started to spiral to the ground and the fourth started to turn back to base. “Nyah! We need to get out of here mister Ferguson we’re about to hit the ground!” Ferguson grunted and wrapped his arms around her as the Helicopter slammed into the ruins on top of the cliff.

Harry and Blackfur hadn't been sitting by idly as Ferguson toppled the helicopters from the sky they’d busied themselves with scaling the cliff and got there just as the helicopter containing Ferguson and kit slammed into the ground and exploded. Harry and Blackfur ran screaming to the rubble before halting as Ferguson rose up throwing a large sheet of metal off his back, he was very much on fire, badly hurt and held an unharmed kit in one arm. “How, how did  you survive?” Harry’s eyes were wide with shock and his mouth hung open, watching as Ferguson's swollen shut eye faded from purple back to a dirtied tan and an eyeball swelled up inside the socket and ejected a piece of scrap metal. His twisted right arm swung back into place with a loud crack. “A good magician never reveals his secrets” Ferguson answered smiling, the bitter taste of a health potion lingering on his tongue.

[passionjunkies]

My last playlist with:

H.E.R. - Any Worse (Squeak’s Song)

Karriem Riggins & Madlib - Stomping Gamay

Cyrille Aimee - Back to You

Joel Ross - nublues - fade

Yussef Dayes - Chasing the Drum - A COLORS SHOW

Vijay Iyer - Prelude: Orison

Nathan Badu - Diamonds in the rough

August Cooke - Like Rivers

Mad Keys - Kiatus Haiote

Miguel Atwood-Ferguson - Ano Yo

Sophie Faith - Dopamine

Pocket Sun - Jupiter

Dina Ögon - Det läcker

Little Brother - Glory Glory

1999 WRITE THE FUTURE - MiNt cHoCoLaTe (feat. Conway the Machine)

Benny The Butcher - One Foot In (with Stove God Cooks)

Reek Osama - Art Of War

P-Ro - Queen of Hearts

Doctor Bionic - Wire Fraud

Flash Pig - In the Mood for Love

Golf Trip - Killing Flowers - Pale Jay Remix

Killer Mike - RUN - Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley Version

JJ Whitefield - Sidist - Remix

Dirg Gerner - Lonely Town - Alternate Version

BEAM - FU

Gabriel da Rosa - Cafuné

Elzhi - RIP (Radio International Programming)

King Canyon - Charmer

The Bees - Sky Holds The Dub

oh caroline - Skin and Bones

The South Hill Experiment - Deep Green

Mocky - Just a Little Lovin'

Okonski - Paradiso

Thee Sinseers - For You

Michael Nau - Painting A Wall

Liam Bailey - Disorder Starts At Home

Brainstory - Gift Of Life

Lady Wray - Come On In (Les Imprimés Remix)

[jonfarreporter]

Sonoma’s Sugarloaf Mountain Range is it a local Yosemite?

Traversing up Adobe Canyon Road in Kenwood, just north of the town of Sonoma, a person seeking an exhilarating experience of nature and bucolic adventure will be breathtakingly taken aback by the rustic beauty of Sugarloaf Ridge State Park.

Some visitors have commented It’s Sonoma’s Yosemite. “I am not one of them,” said longtime Sonoma resident Mary Oswald.

Her reason for not comparing it to Yosemite is simple. “Sugarloaf is unique and it’s a part of Sonoma. It’s one of those special places that few people know about,” said Oswald.

As someone who has volunteered as a docent and visitor’s center guide, she explained why the 4,900-acre mountain range is called sugarloaf. “Sugar wasn’t always sold in the neat paper packages that we buy at the supermarket these days,” said Oswald.

“Before the 20th Century, said Oswald, sugar came in loaves that looked something like oversized, upside-down ice cream cones. The grocer just broke off pieces for his customers,” she said. To the pioneers who settled in the Sonoma Valley, “it reminded them of a piece of a loaf of sugar; hence the name Sugarloaf,” Oswald added.

A 25-foot waterfall flows after the winter rains. And now that spring has arrived it’s an ideal time to make the trek to the 200 to 2729 feet elevations of Sugarloaf.

There is a self-guided nature trail along Sonoma Creek that starts near the picnic area. Sugarloaf Ridge State Park contains the headwaters of Sonoma Creek. It runs through gorge and canyon, across the meadow floor, beneath scenic rock outcroppings, and is surrounded at times by redwoods and ferns.

Views are spectacular as far as the human eye can see in just about every direction.

Trees of many varieties are abundant. Within the oak woodland and chaparral, the park has 25 miles of trails for hiking and horseback riding. But amid the abundance of arbor expansion Redwoods are the ancient gem of this hill and mountains retreat.

Simply stand beneath one and look up. The sounds of birds and of babbling creek waters are soothing as well as enticing.

The eagerness to explore and meander is encouraging. Yet it’s advised to do so with caution as trails can be narrow. Twigs, branches, rocks and other obstacles can make for a slow climb or descending path.

With daylight hours increasing, this is an on-foot excursion that should be savored and not rushed.

On a clear day, visitors can see views of the Sierra Nevada and the Golden Gate bridge from the 2729-foot summit of Bald Mountain.

Deer, gray foxes, the occasional bobcat and coyote can be seen in the park. In spring, wildflowers provide a colorful palette across the green hills.

Lower portions of Sugarloaf is free for visitors to park and walk. Other higher portions and sections, especially campsites require an admission fee.

Note that all plants and wildlife within the park are protected. Collecting or destroying anything in the park, including mushrooms, is prohibited.

Dogs must be on a leash under your control at all times. Dogs are not allowed on trails.

Camping is permitted in designated areas. Dogs must be in a tent, camper or enclosed vehicle during the night.

The non-profit Valley of the Moon Observatory Association provides year-round astronomy education and interpretation programs at the Robert Ferguson Observatory within Sugarloaf Ridge State Park. Program fees vary, some are free with the payment of the park's Day Use Fee.

There are three telescopes and the New Generation 40-inch Telescope Project at the Ferguson Observatory which will be one of the largest telescopes dedicated for public viewing. For more information and public viewing schedules, visit the Sugarloaf State Park website.

[yorkcalling]

Discovery: Regina Ferguson

Canyon Town is the third single to be released from American singer-songwriter Regina Ferguson’s debut album, showing just how amazing her songwriting skills are! By Jane Howkins Canyon Town is a country song with more than a hint of Americana and country – it’s really evocative, making you feel like you’re with Regina as she sings along! She has a wonderful singing voice, with a classic…

[gumstudios]

Opening our #shotatgum ‘23 with the gorgeous Kate Spade New York Fall 22 collection with its radiant hues and playful prints…with a Kate spade New York twist! The campaign tells the story of residents in a New York City townhouse apartment building coming together for a Saturday afternoon open house.  Everyone visits a neighbor’s home, creating a patchwork of a harmonious and beautiful gathering. Shot at our Level 2 Stage B + B Annex!   Produced By Canyon Road. Directed by Grammy-award-winning director Alan Ferguson. Photography by Nadine Ljewere and styled by Nathan Klein. Models: Nya Gatbel, Rory Gevis, Pyeng Threadgill, Austria Ulloa, and Sarah Grace Wallerstedt.    #Katespade #fall22 #newyork #level2stage #shotatgum #canyonroad   (at Brooklyn, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cm9mAwOuZPL/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[cryptidussy]

I wish to know, dear cryptidussy, your deepest secrets, and by that I mean, of course your music taste. What was your number 3 and number 42 on your spotify wrapped if you don't mind!

Ah but of course, my dear pseudonemesis! And deep secrets they are indeed!

At number 3 is Formula by Labrinth which is very surprising cause I only listened to it repeatedly sometime last... February I want to say? When I was watching Euphoria which, don't get me wrong, is a great song but I don't feel it should deserve the 3rd spot... Oh well!

At number 42 is A Strange Kindness by David Ferguson and Matt Sweeney. Now I know exactly why I have so many country/cowboy songs in my playlist and that's because I put them on repeat when I DM my Red Dead Redemption 2 inspired campaign. Also, once in a while everyone needs to feel like a cowboy riding their horse through the canyons of the US (while in reality they are anxiously riding the train to work and school because they are late). So yeah. RDR2 soundtrack for number 42

Thank you for the ask!

[adventurealldays]

[lynditurpinphoto]

2-7-15

Ferguson Canyon, Utah

[silveryinkystar]

Rhapsody in Blue; a playlist to accompany the fic, both made by the wonderful @kckenobi.

[Read here | Listen here | Insp]

[ID in alt text]

Tracklist [part 1 - fic & chapter titles | part 2 - inspiration]

part 1

i. Prelude by Johann Sebastian Bach || ii. the man himself by Gang of Youths || iii. Gardermoen by Julia Kent || iv. Ring of Saturn by Cory Wong, Dirty Loops || v. In the Mood by Glenn Miller || vi. Nuvole bianche - Arr. for Two Cellos by Mr and Mrs Cello || vii. Moonlight Serenade by US Air Force Airmen of Note || viii. Broken Cellos by Samuel L Session || ix. Hospital, Pt. 1 by Gustavo Santaolalla || x. Due Tramonti - Remastered 2020 by Ludovico Einaudi, Marco Decimo || xi. Caravan by Duke Ellington || xii. Hospital, Pt. 2 by Gustavo Santaolalla || xiii. On the Nature of Daylight by Max Richter, Louisa Fuller, Natalia Bonner, John Metcalfe, Philip Sheppard, Chris Worsey || xiv. Asturias by Boston Cello Quartet, Will Hudgins || xv. Danse macabre by Camille Saint-Saëns || xvi. The Life Cycle of a Butterfly by Cory Wong || xvii. Tomorrow and Forever by Cory Wong || xviii. Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin

part 2 (under the cut)

xix. Birdland by Maynard Ferguson || xx. Without Me by Rayland Baxter || xxi. Supermarket Flowers by Stellenbosch University Choir || xxii. Being Alive (Glee Cast Version) by Glee Cast || xxiii. Moon River by Gustav Lundgren || xxiv. Pie Jesu by The Ayoub Sisters, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Mark Messenger || xxv. The Swan (From "Carnival of the Animals" by Camille Saint-Saëns || xxvi. i luv him. by Catie Turner || xxvii. Art vs Calling by Sleeping At Last || xxviii. A Million Dreams by The Piano Guys || xxix. Love Theme From St. Elmo's Fire by Stan Whitmire ||

xxx. Thaïs: Meditation (Arr. for Cello & Piano) by Jules Massenet || xxxi. The Lake Isle by Ola Gjeilo, Tenebrae, Kristian Kvalvaag, Thomas Gould, Ciaran McCabe, Jon Thorne, Matthew Sharp || xxxii. Flower Duet by Leo Délibes, Cicely Parnas, Marnie Laird, Brooklyn Classical, Patrick Laird || xxxiii. October by Eric Whitacre, Youngstown State University Symphonic Wind Ensemble, Stephen Gage || xxxiv. Tu Sei - Arr. for Two Cellos by Mr and Mrs Cello || xxxv. Sing Gently (Arr. for String Quartet and Piano) by Eric Whitacre, Dominic Cheli, Adam Milstein, Emma Wernig, Ben Solomonov, Max Karmazyn || xxxvi. Burying the Dead by Kevin Kiner || xxxvii. The Winner Takes it All - From "Mamma Mia!" by Meryl Streep || xxxviii. Butterfly by Gustav Santaolalla || xxxix. A Model of the Universe by Jóhann Jóhannsson ||

xl. Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini Op 43: Variation No. 18 Andante cantabile by Sergei Rachmaninoff || xli. Requiem For An Empty Ballroom by The Stolen Orchestra || xlii. Learning to Drive by Gustav Santaolalla || xliii. The Art of Getting By by Laura Zocca || xliv. Needles & Pins by Canyon City || xlv. Bandstand Boogie by Barry Manilow || xlvi. It Don't Mean a Thing (If It Ain't Got That Swing) by Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington || xlvii. The Jazz Police by Gordon Goodwin's Big Phat Band || xlviii. You Cannot Lose My Love by Sara Groves || xlix. Bad Day by Daniel Powter ||

l. champagne problems by Taylor Swift || li. Landslide by Alex Blue, Sleeping At Last || lii. If This Is It Now by Birdy || liii. God is Just the Universe by Corey Kilgannon || liv. Quiet Man by Roo Panes || lv. Grow As We Go by Ben Platt || lvi. Happiness by We Banjo 3 || lvii. October - Live by gray || lviii. Fare Thee Well by Gustav Santaolalla

[raplele]

found my first human sized cave. almost went in but there are mountain lions in these parts. i want to be mauled to death by someone I love, not some overcommited furry.

[bchiking]

[diceriadelluntore]

Storia Di Musica #206 - Spirit, Spirit, 1968

La storia musicale di oggi ha in comune con quella dei Love il luogo, la California di metà anni ‘60, un nuovo gruppo rock molto interessante (e molto meno famoso di quello che meriterebbe) e lo stesso, gigantesco, chitarrista rock di Seattle. Tutto inizia in un club di Hollywood, l’Ash Grove, gestito da Ed Pearl. Pearl aveva un nipote innamorato della chitarra, Randolph Craig Wolfe, che vide da adolescente su quel palco passare grandi nomi del folk, del blues e del jazz. Un giorno al locale dovevano suonare i Rising Sons, nel quale militavano fra gli altri Taj Mahal, Ry Cooder e il batterista Ed Cassidy, un batterista che aveva suonato con alcuni giganti del jazz (Art Pepper, Cannonball Adderley, Roland Kirk, Lee Konitz, Gerry Mulligan). Cassidy, di trenta anni più grandi di Randy Wolfe, è impressionato dal talento di questo 15enne, e decide di mettere su un suo gruppo, i Red Roosters: ci sono oltre a loro Mark Andes (basso e voce), Jay Ferguson (voce e percussioni, e un talento nello scrivere canzoni), e Mike Fondiler (chitarra ritmica). È il 1965, tutto è pronto per le prime serate, ma Cassidy è chiamato a New York per delle sessioni di registrazione: nel frattempo ha sposato la sorella di Ed Pearl, madre di Randy, che parte con lui. Leggenda vuole che Randy incontri in un negozio di strumenti musicali un giovane chitarrista di Seattle, che sentendolo lo invita a far parte del suo primo gruppo: Jimmy James & The Blue Flames. Sarà questo Jimmy, che di cognome fa Hendrix, a chiamarlo California, per distinguerlo da un altro Randy del suo gruppo. Dopo tre mesi di esibizioni, clamorose, al Cafè Wha, a Hendrix viene chiesto di andare in Inghilterra (che sarà il suo trampolino verso la leggenda) e vorrebbe portare con sé il giovane California, ma la famiglia si oppone e Randy torna con Cassidy in California. Nel 1967 richiamati Ferguson e Andes, a cui si aggiunse il tastierista John Locke, fondano un gruppo prendendo il nome da un racconto di Khalil Gibran, Gli Spiriti Ribelli, che accorciano in Spirit. Nasce così una delle più importanti band della California anni ‘60, capace di creare una fusione originale e convincente di rock, folk e jazz, e solo le stranissime e imprevedibili traiettorie del destino hanno impedito alla band di essere famosa come altre del periodo, alcune anche meno dotate dal punto di vista musicale. Firmano un contratto con la Ode di Lou Adler e verso la fine del 1967 sono in studio per registrare il loro primo disco. Spirit esce nel gennaio del 1968: le 11 tracce sono un condensato di tutto quello che ribolliva nel pentolone della musica della west coast, tra psichedelia, folk, rock e strutture ritmiche che, essendo Cassidy proveniente dal jazz, spesso non si esaurivano nel 4/4 del rock blues. L’apertura con Fresh-Garbage già è un avviso di quello che si svilupperà durante la scaletta, con la chitarra innovativa di California che diventerà centrale e imitata nel panorama del periodo. Meravigliose sono Mechanical World, dalla struttura complessa, il folk alla Byrds di Uncle Jack, le meravigliose Topanga Windows e The Great Canyon Fire In General (ispirate all’edificio a Topanga Canyon, la stessa zona dove vivevano i Love, che condividevano con i Buffalo Springfield di Neil Young, che fu grande amico della band); Girl In Your Eye ha sapori orientali, Straight Arrow ha un che di country, Elijah è il brano più ambizioso, oltre 10 minuti di quasi jam session jazz rock in anticipo sui tempi. Nel disco si intravedono anche il talento di Jay Ferguson nella scrittura dei brani, quasi tutti suoi, e l’amalgama sonora della band, davvero evidente. C’è però un brano che passerà alla storia perchè, probabilmente è stato l’ispirazione alla canzone più famosa di tutta il rock: Taurus è un delicato e sognante strumentale che ha una parte di chitarra che ispirò Jimmy Page nell’intro di Stairway To Heaven. Nel 1968 i primi concerti americani dei Led Zeppelin furono di spalla agli Spirit, e probabilmente Page la sentì molte volte: c’è tutta una storia di cause milionarie sulla questione, tra l’altro intentate dagli eredi di California solo dopo la sua morte, dato che lui non ci vedeva nulla di male ad essere stato di ispirazione, dove sebbene ne sia stata appurata la somiglianza non si può parlare di plagio. Il grande debutto è anche un successo commerciale, con il disco che arriva in Top20 di Billboard. Nei successivi 2 anni, dal ‘68 al ‘70, pubblicano altri tre dischi bellissimi: The Family Plays Together, che contiene la meravigliosa I Got A Line On You, il loro più grande singolo di successo (1968), Clear (1969, con l’altrettanto suggestiva Dark Eyed Woman) e nel 1970, passati alla Epic e prodotti da David Briggs, produttore di Neil Young, pubblicano uno dei primi concept proto-prog americani con il meraviglioso Twelve Dreams Of Doctor Sardonicus, musicalmente favoloso (Prelude-Nothing To Hide, Animal Zoo, Mr. Skin, la delicata e toccante Nature’s Way scritta da Randy California). Il poco successo li porterà allo scioglimento alla fine del 1970, continueranno a uscire dischi a nome Spirit, per lo più gestiti da Randy California che detenne il nome, fino alla sua tragica scomparsa, in mare alle Hawaii, inghiottito dai marosi nel tentativo, riuscito, di salvare suo figlio in difficoltà. Rimangono un gruppo da scoprire che ha scritto alcune delle pagine più sorprendenti della musica di quel periodo irripetibile.

[whywishesarehorses]

Desert Dust - First Famous Mustang

Featured are excerpts from an article on Desert Dust, a wild mustang stallion who made the news in a big way in the 1940s, thanks to rider Frank Robbins. The article is written by his rider’s great-great-grand-niece, Dakota Kuhns, who wrote the story for the Western Nebraska Observer.

The fight for and against wild horses in the United States will continue as it has for many years. Nearly 76 years ago on March 16, 1943, the U.S. Grazing Service, (today's BLM) announced there were about 100,000 wild horses roaming federal ranges. Shortly after the announcement, it was decided to stop the growth and enlargement of the wild herds.

Once the decision was made, a widely attended meeting was held in Rock Springs, Wyoming, to create a plan of action. It seemed the meeting was composed around the destruction, and the wholesale slaughter of "trespass horses" (horses not under grazing permits).

A Wyoming native, Frank "Wild Horse" Robbins, was one of the many in attendance at the meeting. Robbins, a rancher and cowboy in his own right, was also assigned to break horses for the Army during World War I for the Remount Service. After the Army and a few cross country moves, Robbins decided to return home to Glenrock, Wyoming, to capture wild horses off of Wyoming's Red Desert in 1935. Robbins was the youngest of six boys and one girl born to Frank Benjamin and Susie Robbins on Box Elder Creek near Glenrock.

During the meeting, Robbins presented a plan, "I'm representing the horses. I'll trap 'em and bring 'em in alive." The plan included the use of a small airplane to gather the herds into "horse traps," which were somewhat like corrals. The method worked. Robbins captured thousands of horses that were then broke and sold as either rodeo stock or hauled by truck to Wamsutter. Then they were put on a train and sent to Europe to supply meat during WWII.

However, out of the estimated tens of thousand horses Robbins captured, one wild stallion with a photo and a name seen and heard all across the world was the ticket to fame for the wild horse population in Wyoming -- Desert Dust, a beautiful palomino stallion that called the Red Desert home.

According to the Wyoming Cowboy Hall of Fame and relative Dale Robbins, Frank told the Casper Star Tribune and a Glenrock Independent freelance reporter that he and his hands were gathering horses some 28 miles southwest of Wamsutter when he was approached by a couple who passed along the message that they were on to "something special." After hearing the news, Robbins called on his pilot, Walt Williams of Laramie, to take a closer look.

July 12, 1945, brought a morning of remembrance for the Robbins family as well as the rest of the crew, an experience that explained what "special" really was. That day Williams was able to run the stallion into the box canyon where Robbins and his hands completed the capture.

As the dust settled, Robbins sent word to photographer Vern Wood of Rawlins "to come out and capture the wild palomino on film." It was reported that Robbins gave him the name, "Desert Dust."

The photograph of the stallion was run in The Denver Post, the article from the Post was picked up nationwide by United Press and the famous black and white photo was used by Robbins to promote his rodeo held every year in Glenrock.

Once the photo appeared in the Post, numerous inquiries of the print came in, including those from National Geographic, Western Natural Life and Eastman Kodak, who all received prints of the beauty. In 1946, Wood's announced that a large 40- by 50-inch color oil print of Desert Dust would be hung in the Capitol Building in Cheyenne, and a second was given to Senator Joseph C. O'Mahoney for presentation to the National Capitol.

Desert Dust was murdered in 1952 and his killer was never caught. However, the family believes to this day that the murder of the beauty was part of a feud between a man from Glenrock and Robbins – and that they did not see eye to eye.

But the spirit of the stunning Palomino remains around the small towns in Wyoming near Wamsutter. A painting hangs in the bar at the Virginian Hotel in Medicine Bow, and a photo is on its restaurant menus. A large mural also in on the roadside in Rawlins on the old Ferguson building on Main Street; it's a view of the big yellow beauty can also be seen in the movie.

Frank "Wild Horse" Robbins passed away on July 5, 1984, at the age of 89. and was inducted into the Wyoming Cowboy Hall of Fame in 2016. To most folks in around the area, Wild Horse Robbins and Desert Dust live on to roam the Red Desert and the history of the Cowboy State.

[new-sandrafilter]

Behold Dune: An Exclusive Look at Timothée Chalamet, Zendaya, Oscar Isaac, and More  

Timothée Chalamet remembers the darkness. It was the summer of 2019, and the cast and crew of Dune had ventured deep into the sandstone and granite canyons of southern Jordan, leaving in the middle of the night so they could catch the dawn on camera. The light spilling over the chasms gave the landscape an otherworldly feel. It was what they had come for.

“It was really surreal,” says Chalamet. “There are these Goliath landscapes, which you may imagine existing on planets in our universe, but not on Earth.”

They weren’t on Earth anymore, anyway. They were on a deadly, dust-dry battleground planet called Arrakis. In Frank Herbert’s epic 1965 sci-fi novel, Arrakis is the only known location of the galaxy’s most vital resource, the mind-altering, time-and-space-warping “spice.” In the new film adaptation, directed by Arrival and Blade Runner 2049 filmmaker Denis Villeneuve, Chalamet stars as the young royal Paul Atreides, the proverbial stranger in a very strange land, who’s fighting to protect this hostile new home even as it threatens to destroy him. Humans are the aliens on Arrakis. The dominant species on that world are immense, voracious sandworms that burrow through the barren drifts like subterranean dragons.

For the infinite seas of sand that give the story its title, the production moved to remote regions outside Abu Dhabi in the United Arab Emirates, where the temperatures rivaled the fiction in Herbert’s story. “I remember going out of my room at 2 a.m., and it being probably 100 degrees,” says Chalamet. During the shoot, he and the other actors were costumed in what the world of Dune calls “stillsuits”—thick, rubbery armor that preserves the body’s moisture, even gathering tiny bits from the breath exhaled through the nose. In the story, the suits are life-giving. In real life, they were agony. “The shooting temperature was sometimes 120 degrees,” says Chalamet. “They put a cap on it out there, if it gets too hot. I forget what the exact number is, but you can’t keep working.” The circumstances fed the story they were there to tell: “In a really grounded way, it was helpful to be in the stillsuits and to be at that level of exhaustion.”

It wouldn’t be Dune if it were easy. Herbert’s novel became a sci-fi touchstone in the 1960s, heralded for its world-building and ecological subtext, as well as its intricate (some say impenetrable) plot focusing on two families struggling for supremacy over Arrakis. The book created ripples that many see in everything from Star Wars to Alien to Game of Thrones. Still, for decades, the novel itself has defied adaptation. In the ’70s, the wild man experimental filmmaker Alejandro Jodorowsky mounted a quest to film it, but Hollywood considered the project too risky. David Lynch brought Dune to the big screen in a 1984 feature, but it was derided as an incomprehensible mess and a blight on his filmography. In 2000, a Dune miniseries on what’s now the SyFy channel became a hit for the cable network, but it is now only dimly remembered.

Villeneuve intends to create a Dune that has so far only existed in the imagination of readers. The key, he says, was to break the sprawling narrative in half. When Dune hits theaters on December 18, it will only be half the novel, with Warner Bros. agreeing to tell the story in two films, similar to the studio’s approach with Stephen King’s It and It Chapter Two. “I would not agree to make this adaptation of the book with one single movie,” says Villeneuve. “The world is too complex. It’s a world that takes its power in details.”

For Villeneuve, this 55-year-old story about a planet being mined to death was not merely a space adventure, but a prophecy. “No matter what you believe, Earth is changing, and we will have to adapt,” he says. “That’s why I think that Dune, this book, was written in the 20th century. It was a distant portrait of the reality of the oil and the capitalism and the exploitation—the overexploitation—of Earth. Today, things are just worse. It’s a coming-of-age story, but also a call for action for the youth.”

Chalamet’s character, Paul, thinks he’s just a boy struggling to find a place in the world, but he actually possesses the ability to change it. He has a supernatural gift to harness and unleash energy, lead others, and meld with the heart of his new home world. Think Greta Thunberg, only she’s a Jedi with a degree from Hogwarts. Paul comes from a powerful galactic family with a name that sounds like a constellation—the House Atreides. His father and mother, Duke Leto (played by Oscar Isaac) and Lady Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson), take their son from their lush, Scandinavian-like home world to preside over spice extraction on Arrakis. What follows is a clash with the criminal, politically connected House Harkonnen, led by the monstrous Baron Vladimir (Stellan Skarsgård), a mammoth with merciless appetites. The baron, created with full-body prosthetics, is like a rhino in human form. This version of the character is less of a madman and more of a predator. “As much as I deeply love the book, I felt that the baron was flirting very often with caricature,” says Villeneuve. “And I tried to bring him a bit more dimension. That’s why I brought in Stellan. Stellan has something in the eyes. You feel that there’s someone thinking, thinking, thinking—that has tension and is calculating inside, deep in the eyes. I can testify, it can be quite frightening.”

The director has also expanded the role of Paul’s mother, Lady Jessica. She’s a member of the Bene Gesserit, a sect of women who can read minds, control people with their voice (again, a precursor to the Jedi mind trick), and manipulate the balance of power in the universe. In the script, which Villeneuve wrote with Eric Roth and Jon Spaihts, she is even more fearsome than before. The studio’s plot synopsis describes her as a “warrior priestess.” As Villeneuve jokes, “It’s better than ‘space nun.’ ”

Lady Jessica’s duty is to deliver a savior to the universe—and now she has a greater role in defending and training Paul too. “She’s a mother, she’s a concubine, she’s a soldier,” says Ferguson. “Denis was very respectful of Frank’s work in the book, [but] the quality of the arcs for much of the women have been brought up to a new level. There were some shifts he did, and they are beautifully portrayed now.”

In an intriguing change to the source material, Villeneuve has also updated Dr. Liet Kynes, the leading ecologist on Arrakis and an independent power broker amid the various warring factions. Although always depicted as a white man, the character is now played by Sharon Duncan-Brewster (Rogue One), a black woman. “What Denis had stated to me was there was a lack of female characters in his cast, and he had always been very feminist, pro-women, and wanted to write the role for a woman,” Duncan-Brewster says. “This human being manages to basically keep the peace amongst many people. Women are very good at that, so why can’t Kynes be a woman? Why shouldn’t Kynes be a woman?”

 As fans will know, there’s a vast menagerie of other characters populating Dune. There are humans called “mentats,” augmented with computerlike minds. Paul is mentored by two of them. There are also the bravado warriors Duncan Idaho and Gurney Halleck, played by Jason Momoa and Josh Brolin. Dave Bautista plays a sinister Harkonnen enforcer Glossu Rabban, and Charlotte Rampling has a key role as the Bene Gesserit reverend mother. The list goes on. In the seemingly unlivable wilds of Arrakis, Javier Bardem leads the Fremen tribe as Stilgar, and Zendaya costars as a mystery woman named Chani, who haunts Paul in his dreams as a vision with glowing blue eyes.

The breadth of Dune is what has made it so confounding for others to adapt. “It’s a book that tackles politics, religion, ecology, spirituality—and with a lot of characters,” says Villeneuve. “I think that’s why it’s so difficult. Honestly, it’s by far the most difficult thing I’ve done in my life.” After finishing this first movie, he’ll just have to do it all over again.