Showing Her The Ropes
All the time I used to spend writing letters, we could now spend together and we were outdoors whenever it was not raining and many times when it was. This was the road to Martin Valley where there were a number of private residences. The road was narrow, especially along this section which was wooden. The following spring, we were walking down this lane just as the Salmon Berry bushes were in blume and we found oursevles in the midst of a humming bird migration. The air was buzzing with the tiny creatures as they were stopping for a break among the blossoms on their way further north. They were as thick as flies and I recall that as a car drove by, they were bouncing off the grill and bumper. I picked one up and for the first time in my life I was able to examine one close-up. It was limp and warm and I saw that it was a Ruby Throated Humming Bird. The delicate body and intricate feather colourations were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I flagged down the next car and let them know to drive a little more slowly. 
This was the lake behind the dam. There was row of boathouses that were left stranded, high and dry, as we experienced one of the driest winters in Ocean Falls' history. Normally all those stumps in the background were under several feet of water. 
But the rains soon returned, as they always did. Here, all the floodgates are open and it was with a mighty roar that all that water cascaded down to the rocks below. Imagine too that the penstocks (huge pipes diverting water to the mill for industry and for hydo-electric power generation) were taking as much water again, so the total volume was immense, all supplied by rainfall and runoff from Baldy Mountain. 
This was the natural part of the original falls. It was always a thrill to go up to the dam. Anywhere else, it would have been a big tourist attraction. When the rain was heavy, the background noise of the falls was always heard, throughout the town. There was never a concern about the dam bursting because the town sat high and dry. The mill, perhaps, would have been in some trouble, but then only at high tide.
All the time I used to spend writing letters, we could now spend together and we were outdoors whenever it was not raining and many times when it was. This was the road to Martin Valley where there were a number of private residences. The road was narrow, especially along this section which was wooden. The following spring, we were walking down this lane just as the Salmon Berry bushes were in blume and we found oursevles in the midst of a humming bird migration. The air was buzzing with the tiny creatures as they were stopping for a break among the blossoms on their way further north. They were as thick as flies and I recall that as a car drove by, they were bouncing off the grill and bumper. I picked one up and for the first time in my life I was able to examine one close-up. It was limp and warm and I saw that it was a Ruby Throated Humming Bird. The delicate body and intricate feather colourations were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I flagged down the next car and let them know to drive a little more slowly. 
This was the lake behind the dam. There was row of boathouses that were left stranded, high and dry, as we experienced one of the driest winters in Ocean Falls' history. Normally all those stumps in the background were under several feet of water. 
But the rains soon returned, as they always did. Here, all the floodgates are open and it was with a mighty roar that all that water cascaded down to the rocks below. Imagine too that the penstocks (huge pipes diverting water to the mill for industry and for hydo-electric power generation) were taking as much water again, so the total volume was immense, all supplied by rainfall and runoff from Baldy Mountain. 
This was the natural part of the original falls. It was always a thrill to go up to the dam. Anywhere else, it would have been a big tourist attraction. When the rain was heavy, the background noise of the falls was always heard, throughout the town. There was never a concern about the dam bursting because the town sat high and dry. The mill, perhaps, would have been in some trouble, but then only at high tide. 
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