Cee’s Which Way Photo Challenge – July 28, 2017

Roaring Dam is part of the Blackstone Valley Historic Corridor park system and there are many walking paths within it. If you take the trails along the river and walk long enough, you’ll discover that all the parks are linked by the river itself.

First, a little history …

Not the best steps if you aren’t light on your feet!

Kaity on the path by the rapids



We drove up to Attean view from Jackman, Maine. It was around four in the afternoon and the sun was shining almost directly in our faces. It made shooting a bit more interesting, but the pictures — with editing — were classics for me. Nothing better than autumn high in the mountains.

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Twisted River in March

The banks of the river are an endless series of curves. This is especially prominent in winter, when the water seems black as pitch against the snow along the shore. And yet these were taken in spring. Many inches of snow had already melted and the ice was mostly gone from the river. Not black and white, but definitely monochrome.

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Today is one lovely early summer’s day. After all the cold and rain, this is the kind of day you hope for. It’s the first beautiful day in a quite a while.

It’s also the day James Comey — America’s former FBI Director — is giving live-on-television testimony about his relationship with America’s president. We are expecting a great television experience.

For a goodly number of us, it brings back nostalgic waves of memory for the Good Old Days of Dick Nixon and Watergate which oddly, doesn’t seem like nearly as big a deal now as it did then. Time puts everything into perspective.  I do not have my popcorn ready because it is too early in the morning for anything quite that salty and crunchy.

Later, after the Big Show, I’m sure I’ll have something more to say on the subject. Or not. It’s hard to know how I’ll feel. Later.

To keep your visually occupied,  these are some very crisp photographs I created last night while I was messing around with pictures. That’s what I do while there’s stuff on television in which I’m not terribly interested. I go through the files of pictures from the past few months to see what I’ve shot, but never did anything about.

These were originally photographs of young, leafy oak trees on a very bright day in May.

I love shooting upward towards the sun, but I’m never sure what to do with the pictures. Unless there’s a special set of clouds or birds or something, well. There are just so many pictures of leafy trees that anyone needs, so I wanted to find something different for these.

I think I would call these pictures crisp. Let me know what you think. They are a highly filtered form of line drawing or sketch. I think I like them.



Early mist in the woods in January

If you want to get philosophical about this, everything is evanescent. Life, the world, and the universe and all things in it. Nothing is forever.

Maine mist

The flowers will fade and bubbles will pop. The rainbow will be gone even while you look at it. The galaxy and universe will decline, vanish, and be no more.

Mist on the ocean

Misty mountains

I refuse to get gloomy about the ultimate passing of everything. Not today. I’m happy to live in this evanescent piece of life. I won’t be here forever, nor will you, or anyone. We may not last until tomorrow, for all I know. But I’m here, now, and it’s spring.

I participate in WordPress’ Weekly Photo Challenge 2017



As early as the 1500s, “you can’t see the forest for the trees” was in wide enough use that it was published in collections of proverbs and slang. As anyone who has been in a forest knows, it can be easy to fall into the trap of just looking at the individual trees, rather than considering the forest as a whole.

According to the “saying,” it’s really easy to lose the forest while you are looking at a tree.

Is that true? When you look at a tree, do you forget you’re in a forest? Is it that easy to forget the larger picture because you can only see part of it? Do we forget we are in a city because we’re looking at a building? Do we forget we are reading a book because we are looking at one page? At the risk of arguing with a “known fact,” I don’t need to see the whole city to know I’m in one.

Meanwhile, I really do live in a forest. Not an allegorical or metaphorical forest. We have a whole lot of trees covering a substantial amount of terrain. Our house is right on the edge of it. The forest is primarily red oak trees, with some other hardwood and a bare hint of pine. We used to have a walnut tree, but it went down in a hurricane years back.

If you live in a woods, it’s true that you can’t see the whole forest, but it doesn’t mean you don’t know it’s there.

Unless you looking down from a helicopter, you will never see the whole forest, yet I’m sure all of us can deduce, infer, and assume the larger picture. Whether or not you can see it in its entirety changes nothing. You see trees, but your brain believes “forest.” Not seeing the whole picture does not mean you don’t know there is one

Photo: Garry Armstrong

How many trees I can see from my house depends on where I am. From the back deck, I see forest. Fewer trees from the front or side of the house. But what’s the difference between the forest and the trees? Isn’t a forest just a bunch of trees? How many trees do you need before it’s a forest (rather than a bunch of trees)? Is there a definition?

Despite this, I bet you can tell the different between a group of trees and a forest every time, without assistance.

Photo: Garry Armstrong

Parts of things embody the spirit of the whole. This is how we understand our world and ourselves. No matter what piece you look at, you retain awareness of its connection to something larger. We are individuals, but part of a family, a company, clan, tribe. Humanity as a whole. Without this fundamental grasp of reality, we could not live in the world.

So how do you know whether you’re looking at a single tree, or standing at the edge of a forest? Look around. If you see a lot more trees, put your money on “forest.” If you see a parking lot and a Walmart sign? Think “mall.” Of course, the Walmart could be at the edge of the forest. but I think you’ll work it out.



Ironwood in the desert

For a woman raised in New York and living in Massachusetts, the desert is another world. The colors of the sky. The mountains jutting into the sky and giant cacti growing across the landscape. We have spent two vacations in Arizona and each has been glorious.

I participate in WordPress’ Weekly Photo Challenge 2017