Photographs by Frank

Electric trains were a holiday tradition in our house when I was young. The trains came down from the attic with the Christmas decorations in mid-December and went back up in early January.

There were two sets of trains. A “modern” set that my brother and I got for Christmas one year in the early 60s and to which a new car or two was added on each subsequent year. The second set was one that my father had when he was young. It probably dates from about 1940.

Both sets ran on the same tracks and we played with both. My father’s set consisted of a very sleek engine and two passenger cars. I seem to remember that the were somewhat balky in their operation. Not surprising, given their age. The “modern” set, consisting of freight cars including a missile launcher car (this was after all, the cold war!) made for more interesting play.

I have no idea what has become of “my” set. However, my father’s set recently came into my possession. When we moved my Mom to assisted living this Fall one of the boxes that ended up at our house contained the train set. When I got the box home, I stowed it in our garage and did not think much about it until last week.

When I opened the box last week, I found the three trains (engine and two passenger cars) that I remembered (in their original boxes) along with a receipt dated 2005 for their refurbishment. Also in the box are four unopened boxes of brand spanking new train track and a modern power supply. I don’t think that my father ever set them up after getting the trains fixed up.

I was inspired to make a photo of the engine. The box of trains is currently sitting in our house, I should probably set them up and give them some exercise. We’ll see…

Lionel Model Train Engine

Friday morning I visited my friends Joe and Diana in Laconia.

I took an indirect route home and stopped to photograph in East Andover and at Potter Place (a historic rail station) in Andover with the following results:

Church Steeple (East Andover, NH)

Grange Hall (East Andover) #1

Grange Hall (East Andover) #1

Untitled (East Andover, NH)

Hand Truck (Potter Place)

Potter Place Depot

Untitled #1 (Potter Place)

Untitled #2 (Potter Place)

Wood God (Potter Place)

Wood Stove (Potter Place)

Box Car Detail (Potter Place)

Boston and Maine (Potter Place)

Of course, there were things other than bob houses to photograph during yesterday’s walk on the lake.

Here are a few of the things that caught my eye:

Drifted Snow

Red Chairs on Dock in Snow

Tracks in the Snow #1

Tracks in the Snow #2

Nominally White #1

Nominally White #2

Nominally White #3

No new photos for today, but I cannot let the day pass without comment.

I made my first-ever post here, eight years ago today… here it is, so you don’t have to search for it!

Four hundred seventy four posts later, I am still at it. Who woulda thunk?

As the last photo in my most recent post says… Life is Good.

On Sunday afternoon, scattered along about a quarter mile of our road, we noticed an invasion of snow people.

They seemed to rise phoenix-like from the slowly receding snow pack. Or maybe they stand guard like the Moai monoliths of Easter Island. Take your pick of metaphor!

We are grateful (for this bit of fun) to the suspects involved in their construction; you know who you are!

I would not, in any way, describe myself as a portraitist.

However, some times one needs to get out of one’s comfort zone. Thus, I have volunteered to make portraits at the Antrim Senior Center for Valentine’s Day.

Last week, I bought a lighting set (LED lights, stands, umbrellas, etc.) suitable for portraiture.

This afternoon, with a 33 degree drizzle happening outside, I decided to get some portraiture practice. I set the lights and camera up in the basement and corralled the closest subject… ME!

The last of these photos is modeled after a late nineteenth century ancestral portrait which hung in my in-law’s house. The stern look and the unusual pose always intrigued me.

Self-Portrait #1

Self-Portrait #2

Self-Portrait #3

There are two spiritual dangers in not owning a farm. One is the danger of supposing that breakfast comes from the grocery, and the other that heat comes from the furnace.

To avoid the first danger, one should plant a garden, preferably where there is no grocer to confuse the issue.

To avoid the second, he should lay a split of good oak on the andirons, preferably where there is no furnace, and let it warm his shins while a February blizzard tosses the trees outside. If one has cut, split, hauled, and piled his own good oak, and let his mind work the while, he will remember much about where the heat comes from, and with a wealth of detail denied to those who spend the week-end in town astride a radiator.

The words above are the first three paragraphs of the entry in Aldo Leopold’s Sand County Journal  titled “Good Oak”.  Among the many memorable passages in this classic work, this one is always foremost in my mind.

Recently, Joan and I had occasion to visit the Leopold Foundation in Baraboo, Wisconsin.

These folks are the caretakers of the Leopold family’s “shack” and of the Parthenon. While we were visiting, I was delighted to find that the site of the “good oak” whose demise under the saw Leopold goes on to describe in his essay had been marked for posterity.

The Leopold Shack

The Parthenon

The Good Oak