Luna at 96.6% illuminated, and then over-exposed
Morning sun on plants
The tree's last lighting
The man a crow left behind
Morning before the blinds were opened
Yellow warbler just showing off
Two bees
Our kitchen friend
Forget-me-nots
Promises, promises
Self-portrait with cat and fireplace
Like no one else at our latitude
Three day old Moon
Some bee
Minnie, contemplating
Not for long, though
Last night's moon rising
Just before moonrise
Cat's paws in the background
House fly
July second; seven degrees; fireplace at the ready
Another day in July
Bee in the weigela
The moon last Saturday night
Minnie sniffing the low-tide smells
Peperomia blooming
Some little bulbs I planted two years ago
The chimney's two shadows
Mourning cloak
Where they keep the liquid nitrogen and the oxygen
Nested cars
Pathetic? Not quite.
My cookie sheet
Transfixed
Willows get physical
This, on the lawn
We're all getting short-tempered with this incessa…
Showing her finery
Standing on the corner, watching all the birds go…
A picket of starlings
The fog, sorta
Pigeon
Grosbeak in the rain and fog
Further to the failure of my pumpkin
Starling staring at the suet
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82 visits
Downy woodpecker back at his well-tuned percussion


It's not really like a xylophone. More like a single note from a marimba. He likes it a lot.
I suspect he's the same bird who has been visiting for several years, and always attentive to the note -- just one -- that he gets from this stub of a branch outside our kitchen.
He was here three or four weeks ago with a female companion. But they disappeared. He is back again, but now alone, calling all day long on his stick.
For five minutes today he went to another tree, 25 or 30 metres away, and tried out the note on a stick there.
It was -- I assume -- too low, and he returned to his treble stick.
I suspect he's the same bird who has been visiting for several years, and always attentive to the note -- just one -- that he gets from this stub of a branch outside our kitchen.
He was here three or four weeks ago with a female companion. But they disappeared. He is back again, but now alone, calling all day long on his stick.
For five minutes today he went to another tree, 25 or 30 metres away, and tried out the note on a stick there.
It was -- I assume -- too low, and he returned to his treble stick.
William (Bill) Armstrong has particularly liked this photo
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