Dream

Dug the garlic today. About 120 heads of purple hardneck. I laid it out to dry and damned if we didn’t have a hard rain. Granted it didn’t last long. It was marvellous to feel. It was like the earth lapped it up. The birds even came out and seemed to rejoice in the damp, warm air.

The garden is doing what it can. Picked a bunch of peas. Not easy. The wind has blown most of the vines off the fences, making one pick through the tangle. I know I’m missing as many I’m picking. Willow helped out picking, but she ate the ones she picked not contributing to the bucket. Once and awhile I’d give her a pod I’d eaten the peas out of. She would nosh it around and spit it out, giving me a dirty look. She will eat the pea pods as long as they have peas in them, take the peas out and try to pawn them off and she will let you know you are a cheat.

The mosquitoes have been atrocious. The garden is almost unbearable. At night we usually have at least a few driving us crazy. The buggers having followed us through the door. Sometimes I hear Willows jaws clack as she tries biting them out of the air. They are tough to get in the pitch black.

The fire in the Palliser River area is getting bigger. It has burned a lot of country that Lisa and I love. It will be something to see when we can get out there.

It is a long weekend and the tourists are unrelenting. Hordes all trying to do everything at once. I am not sure if they even notice the smoke obscuring the mountains or the sun that rises and sets blood red, on fire through a thickening haze.

Humans are something. I dreamt that the town and hills surrounding the lake were on fire, like they will be one day, while the long grass, trees and homes burned, the tourists in their wake boats just kept jetting around the lake, pulling water skiers and surfers, kids on tubes, loud music from big thumping speakers, laughter, cocktails, bikinis and sunglasses, sunblock and beer bottle empties thrown overboard. Making sure they are draining their tanks, getting their kicks before the lake starts to boil.

Just a bad dream. Exacerbated by the heat, smoke and pesky mosquitoes.

Smoke

Lisa and I along with hounds Willow and Lola went for an early morning walk down the lake. It is a place we don’t go often.

The banks above the lake are dry. Plenty of dead grasses and broken branches. Many years ago people would go here to party, cutting down trees and lighting large fires, driving motorcycles and cars tearing up the earth. I was only there once when that was going on. I was young, but remember it well and I hated it. I still get the same feeling thinking about it all these years later.

These hills are now protected or they would be ruined like every other place around the lake other than the Akisqnuk Nation land.

This morning we watched sparrow hawks, swans, swallows and juncos fly above the fields. The dogs had a good swim once we reached the lake. The smoke cast a soft light, the mountains shrouded, out of reach, the lake almost calm.

It was a good morning walk. The dogs were slower going home.

A large wasp nest that one would be smart not to disturb.

Wild Fires

The sun is captured by a wall of smoke. Lisa and I sat on our patio and watched this cloud of smoke move quickly from the north. The blue sky of evening is above.

Fires are springing up and starting to burn all around.

Bad news from Jasper tonight as it is being reported that several buildings are starting to burn within the evacuated town.

I would often visit Jasper in my teens for the hiking into the surrounding mountains. It is a beautiful area. Lisa and I even spent part of our honeymoon there.

I was hoping with the cooler spring we had that the fires would not be bad this summer. Just wishful thinking.

Fires

Stepped outside a few minutes ago and took a photo of the sun. It is red from the forest fires burning nearby. It has been hot and the smoke has rolled in the past few days. It can and probably will get a lot worse. The moisture seems to be getting sucked out of the earth.

Giant sunspots can be seen on the sun. The photo was taken with a 200mm lens. I have cropped a great deal of the photo as the sun took up a small part of the frame.

It is the smoke acting as a filter that makes this photo possible, but it also shrouds the detail.

Still the sunspots are big. Every bit as big as the one that erupted in early May that caused those magnificent auroras.

The moon will come up shortly when the sun dips and could be as red rising in the east. These colourful cosmic bodies could be a harbinger of doom, yet in their own right, hold an otherworldly elegance. Nature’s reminder that we aren’t in charge nor ever will be.

Summer Hike

Payton, Kennedy, Mia, Jack, Josh and Nathan stopping at the first lake

In what has become a summer ritual a few of my young coworkers and I set off on a hike to see some rock, snow and blue water.

It was special to have Jack’s brother Josh, visiting from the UK, along for the walk.

The days have turned hot. We made an early start and missed most of the heat hiking up. The first lake was pristine surrounded by peaks spotted with snow and ice. Moraine swept from slides to shore. Twisted tamaracks shot skyward, some standing for centuries. A great honour to walk among them with these fine youngsters.

We set off for the scramble to the second lake. It was decided a short section be named Payton’s Pass for her ability to manage it despite her reluctance or otherwise good sense.

The meadow leading to the second lake with wild flowers and trickling stream with short cascading waterfalls was welcome walking the rest of the way.

We stopped for lunch. Everyone had a swim. I wanted to but the thought of the sharp rocks on my feet stopped me. I’m getting a little old and tender I guess.

We followed our route backwards, descended into the heat of the valley bottom. A very fine day.

Clear

Looking down from the banks of Lake Windermere at an ice road heading to the lights of Invermere.

Finally a clear night in what has been a mild, overcast winter. Willow and I took a quick trip behind Swansea, stopping to see Mom and Dad before returning home.

It was good to look up at the winter stars. I was surprised to see how far they have drifted west since the last time Willow and I were under them. Spring is inching forward.

Away from light pollution. A keen eye can spot Orion, Gemini, The Beehive and Pleiades.

Chilly

It has been a mild winter, excluding this past week of -30 Celsius temperatures.

Lola after falling through some thin ice on the rivers edge.

The cooler temperatures have been welcomed by Lisa and I, as they have been accompanied by clear skies.

A friend with a solar panel system that keeps track of sun light recorded only 4 hours of sunshine in December. The rest of the time was overcast. That is not unusual here in the winter.

The mountain looks to the clear, cold sky.

To see the sunshine and stars, that have moved considerably since the last time seen, has been a relief regardless of the chilly air.

Falling

The dorgs, Willow, Lola, and I headed behind the mountains where the creek runs dry this time of year.

The snow started low and fell heavy further up, big juicy flakes. We met a couple of mushroom pickers. They were discouraged. I told them I saw plenty of shaggy manes down below. They were after portabella and chicken mushrooms. Once the snow melts they will be out.

Good to be out, running the muddy roads before they are frozen, facing skyward catching snow and spitting it out, watching dogs twist, chasing their tails, while the mountain pulses in silence.

Tamarack

A very fine view after a few hours hike.

It was nice to get out with Jack and Dave for a day hike to see the tamaracks turning colour.

Willow getting in the picture. She looks like a stump, while a stump, that looks like a dog, barks at her presence.

We even had a few snowflakes fall upon us. Even though the sun stayed hidden the colours still popped.

Tamarack or Larch, as they are often called, are deciduous conifers. They have bright green needles in spring that turn golden in autumn. The time they are brightest does not last long before the needles fall. To an untrained eye they don’t look very much different than fir, pine and spruce, but differ, among other characteristics, by shedding their needles.

It is always a treat to hike among these majestic beauties at this time of year.

Old Places

Places you feel good in. I’m a guy who doesn’t own anything. There is nothing I can call my own. The sky can be out or not. Up there the creek is always clear. Long ago I said to my father, ‘this is my creek’. He knew I didn’t mean it belonged to me, but I felt peace there. There were places he felt the same.

Lisa and I, along with Willow, spent the night up at the top of the creek, we went high where the water runs out at this time of year. We starred skyward and felt the spirits fly through our chests. Lisa counted the piles of bear shit, noted if they were fresh, she carried bear spray and a knife with a quick release. She pointed out cedar boughs in the darkness and asked if I could cut her a few.

A mountain Martin stood stiff, eyes glowing, curious at our intrusion. A large bull elk climbed a rock slide to stay clear of us. There is still enough of my self to quicken my heart and want to go after him. When young it is simple to kill. A pellet to a birds breast. Killing is easy, now older, I even have trouble pulling the trigger on plants in fall. My edge now is not killing.

This place can punch your heart and make you cry.

Palliser Pass

Primary Menu

Category: Dog days