Lisa and I were up early and heading for the bush to miss the tourists and second home owners, who are out in force.

Once we made the corner after the first bridge on the Kootenay we were free and never saw a soul, except the most important, a black bear, a murder of crows circling something dead, plenty of deer, bucks in velvet, a shiny muskrat and birds singing songs, so beautiful, that I will never understand no matter how hard I try.

We picked up a load of wood. Tomorrow I will split it. It is birch so the sooner the better. It will keep us warm. Summer is when you should think of winter.

Picked a litter of lettuce in the garden. The grasshoppers have wings but aren’t eating like they were when they were small. As far as I can tell they don’t like peas or tomatoes. Everything else has taken a shit kicking.

We sure have a good country. I may bitch at the folks running it. The country and citizens are so strong even the politicians haven’t been able to screw it up. 🙂 Aboriginal people are seeing a future where injustices are acknowledged. There is no making things right. There is no returning justice. MY small spot on this land belonged to someone who didn’t agree to sell it to me.

Our future is dependant on immigration, that’s a good thing. The ideas and hard work coming from abroad will make us strong.

Whenever I meet someone wanting to make Canada their home I think of my Grandfather coming from England in 1912 looking for a better life.

I live in this time in history when immigrants made my life easy in my youth and will help me in my old age. How lucky is that?

Most of the creeks are still high. I followed a spring, out of nowhere, a hundred yards through a grove of birch, then disappeared underground to cripes knows where.

The country is alive and beautiful. I can’t contribute like I used to. I don’t expect much. That’s how it is when you are happy.

Somehow we have to grab rocks, but instead of throwing them, we have to lie down on them and feel the warmth.