There was a time when I thought I might eventually shoot every dam in the valley, but not all of them are accessible to traffic. A lot of mills were built by dams deep in the woods whose only access was by train — or barge. Short of going there by train (there is a train, but it only runs once a week at 5 mph) or canoe, those dams are forgotten. If they had names, they have been lost to time.
Mumford Dam, Uxbridge
Photo: Garry Armstrong – Roaring Dam, Blackstone
White water at the dam
Near Milford, name of dam unknown
Dam in Northbridge
We have a new sign. Well, not new. It’s almost 20 years old, but it has been down for a couple of years after being knocked over by a snowplow. Owen propped it back up this year, so we have our new (old) sign back again.
I took a few pictures.
Home again home again
Forget not the dogs!
I’m not always sure where black and white — also known as monochrome — ends and color begins. There are a lot of choices now that bring back some part of the original color, but not all the color or its intensity.
Four of these pictures are classic monochrome. The final one is “transparent,” tonality which uses part of the original colors but unsaturated.
Not sepia exactly. Peaches in a color closer to chocolate
The bridge over the canal in traditional black & white
Garry in classic black & white
Detailed sepia — the bench on the lawn by the river at River Bend
Transparent monochrome: Flowers along the edge of the river
I love the way the sunlight comes through the leaves on trees, the blinds and curtains … and just sometimes through the windows themselves.
I don’t actually have much lawn ornamentation — unless you count the full-size 1928 Fordson tractor. Then, there is the big pink plastic flamingo in the front garden.
I guess you could also consider the small stone toad sundial on the back deck.
Fred, the Flamingo!
Old tractor in a blizzard
Photo: Garry Armstrong
Junco with the toad in the snow
This reminds me of a very (VERY) old joke I first heard as a little kid, maybe five or six.
“A big elephant is big and a little elephant is small. A big fly is big and a little fly is small. Therefore, a big fly is bigger than a small elephant.” This was the ultimate definition of a syllogism, at least for a first grader.
So small. How small?
These are Native American fetishes — very small ones. I do have bigger ones, but you asked for small and small you are getting!
ALL of these fetishes will fit comfortably in one of my hands. They are absolutely guaranteed — SMALL.
The healing bear and the ram
Black and white married wolves
I’ve got a lot of cute pictures recently. I have entire SD cards full of cuteness I haven’t had the time to process, so this was an interesting process. Two pictures I definitely wanted … but the rest? Squirrels being incredibly cute all the time and a variety of birds doing funny birdy stuff.
Anyway, this is what I decided on. Mostly because these had the best contrast or texture or something.
My favorite. This is the cutest little Tufted Titmouse I think I’ve ever seen
Two chubby Doves nesting in the seeds and not leaving until they feel well fed
This little squirrel has become really hard to convince he should leave. He moves in the middle of the day, shoos the birds off the feeder and hangs on for dear life
This little squirrel is not afraid of anything, although I think he really should be. I finally had to go outside and walk up to the feeder and explain to him that he’d been there for hours and it was time to let some of the other kids have a seed. He would just hop onto the nearest branch, wait for me to go back inside, they hop back on the feeder.
Same squirrel. Back again.
Two little birds, sitting on the feeder. The fuzzy one is molting.
I finally went and stood there and every time his/her little head popped up I would say — just like I talk to the dogs — “No. I said you have to leave now. I wasn’t kidding. No, get back down. You have to go find other food now.” He kept popping up, like a little furry jack-in-the-box. But cute? Absolutely. He really should be more careful, though. He is not careful and he doesn’t watch for the Hawks.
Sometimes I know I’ve got material in my folders. Sometimes I think maybe I might have something … but where? This time, though I knew. For one thing, fences are one of the pictures I enjoy turning into black and white, so I was pretty sure I not only had them, but I had them converted.
I was (for once) right and (for twice) was able to find them easily. Black and white. Fences and gates!
A little bit of snow and a deck railing
A lot of snow and the front gate – Photo: Garry Armstrong
Photo: Garry Armstrong
Western fence — Photo: Garry Armstrong
Along Rockport Harbor
I didn’t think I had anything, but as it turns out, I was wrong I had more stuff than I thought. So here are tender — or at least friendly — moments between creatures and humans.
In black and white.
Garry and Harvey Leonard
Bonnie and Gibbs
Swans on a dark pond
Ellin and Lexi