Category: Uncategorized

2021

A lone ice shack sits on Lake Windermere at dawn.

Lisa and I rang in the New Year in a rather low key manner. We enjoyed a nice dinner of steamed crab legs, vegetables, tapenade, crackers and hot pepper Oregon grape and rose hip jelly made by my good friend Dave. After dinner we watched an episode of The Crown on Netflix. The rest of the night was spent in front of the fire listening to fireworks. The fireworks started at 6 pm and continued throughout the night. There was no official fireworks this year due to Covid, so most were set off by individuals.

The Columbia River flows by cat tails after a chinook.

It goes without saying it has been a different year. Luckily our family has been spared from the personal heartbreak and financial hardship Covid has placed on so many families and individuals.

Lots of power outages lately. Probably not the moon’s fault, more likely wind, melt and freeze.

Nixon’s place from across the Columbia. To live under mountains is special.

Not being able to see our kids and grandkids has been difficult, especially during the Christmas season. It seems odd considering how many people are not adhering  to the Provincial and Federal safety protocols. However, as I like to point out to my children, and they understand, it is about how we conduct ourselves, considering we have elderly grandparents and recognizing many other families do as well. For us that’s what it comes down to.

A chinook turns Lake Windermere’s surface rutted and unskateable.

2021 we are looking forward to getting to know you.

The old part of town, built on a mudflat. You won’t see this in a tourism or Chamber of Commerce brochure and that’s okay with me.

round one

Pleiades, Taurus, Gemini, Orion and the hunter’s fierce dog Siris shining through the clouds. The mountain and landscape is illuminated from the valley’s man-made light bouncing off the clouds.

We headed out last night before the peak of the Geminid Meteor Shower to get the jump on the shooting stars. It was overcast so we pointed the camera towards any opening. Lisa saw several meteors. I saw one spectacular one, unfortunately our cameras were pointed elsewhere. That’s the way it goes.

We are planning to go back out tonight. The weather looks about the same. It’s only about -15°c but feels colder, not because of wind chill but because I’m getting old. I don’t think it phases Lisa though. I just try to keep up.

With luck we will spot some. Even if we don’t I’m damn lucky.

my meteor

I’m getting to be an old fool. I’m not sure what arrived first the foolishness or the oldness. Lately they seem to have come together as a sort of unwanted conjunction, making me look for my keys while the truck is already started, grabbing my gloves to chop wood, then outside, realizing they are the oven mitts I use to check the roast.

Still, who am I to deny my feelings, after all reality is in the eye of the beholder.

Lisa and I wondered the creek bed far from the maddeningly crowds. Since the backroads are free of snow we travelled deeper and higher than other years. Once we got to the white water cascading from the melt that never ceases, we took off on foot.

I was happy to walk on rocks that are usually covered in water in warmer months. Looking at the scrapes and scratches. Digging in the sluice looking for gold that I know isn’t there, quartz but no black sand.

Then we came across a black rock that didn’t belong. It was the only black rock in the river bed. The only black rock I’ve seen in the area. It was out of place. The river would normally be over it.

I lifted it and it was heavy. This was a meteor I figured. Yet, it was pockmarked, not smooth, I held a magnet to it and it didn’t stick.

Regardless, I like to think it was catapulted from space, after a quick trip around the sun, hell bent, entering the atmosphere at ten times it’s size and burned down, in a magnificent streak of colour from red to green, until it hit with the force of ten tonnes of TNT, boiling the river, burying underground, letting a thousand years of high water wash over, until I came along and found it.

That’s most certainly not the way it happened, but it’s the way I like to look at it.

A powerful source, the river in December.

late november

Moon between the mountains

Picked a heap of kale for chips. It’s been frozen and thawed, the deer eye it up from the sidelines. It would be theirs if it wasn’t for the high fence. Willow barks the bucks away, us both brave again in each others company.

The chickadees are still hard at work, taking advantage of the warm weather. Seeds tucked into the woodpile. A few left for when times get tough.

First the moon, then mars followed ahead by Saturn and Jupiter. If you count where we’re standing that’s five circling the sun, bright, up before the rest of the stars.

The chips were crispy and sweet. Why shouldn’t they be?

hiding seeds

Spent some time watching chickadees and creepers taking seeds from the dried flowers and hiding them in the trees. It should be noted, they shell them, dropping the husk to the ground below, before tucking the meat into the crevasses of the bark.

I’ve watched woodpeckers come right after and steal the seeds. Damn those thieves.

Still the chickadees do their chore with cheerful vigour, regardless of thieves or winter coming quick or slow. I can’t imagine they are coming back to the ones they’ve hidden, trusting instead to the thoughtful nature down the line, birds hiding seeds in the trees above snow-covered ground. What goes around. . .

***

BC has implemented additional measures to slow the Covid virus. The ant-maskers held a demonstration downtown. I was conveniently in the bush, hiding, watching my grandchildren laugh, marvelling at the frozen lake while the mud puddles were open and thawed.

***

Just before dark, I watched a young boy with roller blades stick handle a ball down the sidewalk. It made me wish I was young.

The lake has a skim of ice. I’m hoping the cold takes hold, the snow stays put high until it’s hard enough to skate. That’s all it will take to make this old man happy.

Scarlett and Cooper, posing nice for their Grandma, in matching pyjamas taking advantage of a fine November day.

before the freeze

The last of the open water.

Very fine day. My hound is feeling better. Lisa and I took one last look at the lake. Marvelling at the still water open before the freeze. Later we headed for the mountains, throwing the truck into four wheel drive.

Willow caught on the wrong side of a fight. A Penrose drain and some antibiotics needed to make her feel better.
A curious bird.

I offered Scarlett and Copper $5 each if they could find a bird in their guide book. It made me feel good they found the American Dipper and damn near got in a fight about who would hold the book for the picture.

Scarlett and Cooper making their old grandpa happy.

It cleared as much as it does in November. Jake climbed a tree in his between fall and winter boots. A true swinger of birches. The sun was down by 4:30 and dark by 6.

The fire is on. My arms remain strong. Plenty of wood needs splitting. A good day rouses me as much as a bad, when it doesn’t I’ll have to take a good long look.

Election

The election is over thank Christ. The NDP got their majority. Our own Doug Clovchok, Liberal, got re elected. The Greens sucking hind tit were shook from the Premiers neck.

If you want to watch shit float, watch an election.

TV and Radio, even the internet claimed a 7000 percent increase in mail in ballots. A bunch more, took advantage of advance voting, as we did.

Cripes making it this easy must translate to a big turnout.

Not so. The turnout was less than 50%

***

If it were a roadway, folks would be up in arms, it would be redesigned sure as the mountains are high.

a dusting

The temp dipped long enough to deliver snow to the mountains one range back. There would have been a day I’d clamour up. Might even haul my skis. Not so ambitious now.

It’s good to see it. The cold turns on us we will hope for global warming. Speaking of which, it’s damn near time for a fire. Normally I catch fish on this weekend.

Getting older, satisfied with tinned goods and cabbage. And kale – Christ now there’s a vegetable! Grows all year long, straight into November, maybe December, considering the warm spell. You can even bust it off, frozen, and throw it in soup.

We need a year it snows everyday. Fill up those canyons. Get the glaciers proceeding.

fireweed

These days everyone wants to know what side you are on. It ain’t as simple as when Pete Seeger gave voice to the union men. Now unions are refuge for apathy and laziness.

The right-wingers are just as bad spouting racist, sexist garbage and wondering aloud why it ain’t being bought.

That’s the political landscape these days. Meanwhile most people don’t fit into either camp, but it’s presented to all they must choose.

***

The rain hit. Temperature is still up in the teens. Even the mountains will be void of snow during this warm October.

***

It will take one good frost to shake the rest of the leaves, stripping the colour and freezing the ground cock hard. That’s how fast it will happen.

***

Months go by quick, even during this time that is supposed to be trying.

north & south

This perch allows sights to the south. There is a bluff in my way obscuring the north. That’s good for now, the only thing coming from the north is wind and cold, bad weather. It’s a mistake to keep them in our face, especially when sneaking up. It’s nature after all, not wanting our scent to announce our entrance.