Saturn in Opposition

This is about as close as we’ll get to Saturn this year, as Earth moves between the Sun and Saturn. It’s a great time to have a look at it through a telescope.

I took this picture from the west side of Lake Windermere. I’ve labelled the stars that form the Great Square of Pegasus, along with the Andromeda Galaxy, about 2.5 million light-years away and the most distant object we can see with the naked eye.

Toast is still too small to join me on these walks under the stars. There are too many coyotes and other critters wandering around in the dark. By the end of winter she’ll still be small, but I expect she’ll be out there with me, giving Orion’s dog, Sirius, a bark.

Early October

It has been nice for Lisa and me to be enjoying the October air with a little dog cutting this way and that while she learns the smells and sights of the bush.

The garden is pretty much in, except for some beets and a heap of carrots. I am going to pull the carrots, trim and bag them up so Lisa can put up a notice on Facebook announcing free carrots. We have done this before with extra vegetables, and they go fast. We keep them out at the road for people to pick up.

The carrots are Royal Chantenay, short and fat, and look nothing like the carrots you buy in the store. This is why I trim, wash and bag them, so people will take a chance on them. It is surprising how some people will not take fresh garden veggies because they don’t look store bought. Once they taste the Royal Chantenay, they will be hooked. I don’t want a little dirt on them being the deciding factor in whether they are tried.

Only a few frosts in the valley bottom so far. I had a couple of tomato plants that were killed. It seems long overdue. It has been a long while since we have had a killer frost at the end of August.

Blue Skies

Toast gets a run in.

September is a good month. Still no frost in the valley bottom. Soon though, and I’m looking forward to it. Most of the tomatoes and the last of the cucumbers have been picked.

Toast and I piled wood this afternoon. I split a few so she gets used to the sound of the axe hitting a block. She will also have to get used to the sound of the chainsaw. So far nothing seems to scare her. She is a little reluctant with new people, but I don’t mind that.

These days the skies are blue. The tourists have receded somewhat. However, as I write this I can hear vehicles doing burnouts. There is a classic car rally in the valley that brings participants from far and wide. They can’t help it.

I expect the next month or so to be busy as people start realizing they have to get things done before the snow flies.

The trip to Quebec has renewed my interest in Canadian history and I have been reading some old journals and books in the public domain. I’m also rereading The Orenda by Joseph Boyden. Boyden was cancelled in the Canadian literary scene, maybe rightly so, however he sure can write. His books, based on historical events, are from the individuals perspective. That’s what I find interesting. I know dates and how it all panned out, I am interested in what people where thinking and how the world was changing in their eyes.

Boyden did this well in Three Mile Road about a man coming home from the First World War. Some of the stories within the book were similiar to the ones my father and grandfather told. There is an authenticity to his stories. So it is quite ironic that Boyden was cancelled due to his own lack of authenticity. Things change, soon people will be judged by their work or art. That’s not now however.

The moon is growing. I point it out to Toast. She gnaws on a piece of bark and doesn’t look up. I know she feels it though.

Off the ridge.

Quebec

Nortre Dame de Bon Secours Chapel, Montreal, Old Port.

Lisa and I are just back from a trip to Quebec. We spent time in Montreal, Quebec City and the Eastern Townships, where we picked up our new puppy, Toast. Toast is a Standard Wire-Haired Dachshund, the same breed as Willow and Slinky.

We met with the breeder, who runs a kennel at her home and breeds dogs for tracking and hunting; instincts that come naturally to the Wire-Haired Dachshund. We also met Toast’s parents. Her dam was a lovely, very affectionate dog, while her sire was one of the finest examples of the breed I have ever seen. He came from Germany and had won many awards for both tracking and show. He was spirited but kind with us, and I could easily imagine him loving every minute spent in the bush.

The breeder was exceptionally knowledgeable and completely committed to her dogs. She even allowed Lisa and me to stay overnight, which was a welcome relief after walking many miles through the streets of Montreal and Quebec City. We came away very impressed with everything we saw.

World Press Photo Exposition 2026, Montreal.

Before visiting the breeder, we treated ourselves to a holiday in Montreal and Quebec City to celebrate our 40th wedding anniversary. We had to pack very light so were not able to take our camera which would have been phenomenal. Subsequently all photos were taken on our phones.

Our first stop was Montreal, where the highlights were almost too numerous to list. The restaurants, history and welcoming culture were wonderful. We stayed in Old Montreal and spent our days walking through the Old Port, marvelling at the architecture, historic buildings and churches.

Montreal City Hall

On our first day of exploring, we unexpectedly came across the World Press Photo exhibition in Montreal. I knew the exhibition was taking place in the city, but I hadn’t expected us to stumble upon it. Lisa and I are both big believers in letting things unfold rather than planning every step of a trip, and this was one of those fortunate moments.

Downtown Montreal from Mount Royal. A keen eye will spot Leonard Cohen.

We spent several hours looking at some of the finest press and documentary photography in the world. The presentation was exceptional and, at times, heartbreaking. It was impossible to walk through the exhibition without being moved.

Notre-Dame Basilica of Montreal.

Another stop was Notre-Dame Basilica of Montreal, where we took in the nighttime light show and learned about the history of this remarkable Gothic Revival church. The light show itself was quite an experience. Lisa and I both agreed it was probably a good thing we weren’t tripping on any substances while watching it.

On another outing, we realized we were close to the cemetery where explorer David Thompson is buried. Again, it wasn’t planned, so we set off to pay our respects to a man whose name is so closely tied to the Columbia Valley and whose journals my father and I spent so many hours studying.

David Thompson’s monument in Mount Royal Cemetery.

We first managed to go to the wrong cemetery. I hadn’t expected two enormous cemeteries to be sitting side by side, but after being pointed in the right direction, we headed farther up Mount Royal. Before long, we were standing in front of David Thompson’s monument. For me, it was certainly one of the highlights of the trip.

Duc De Lorraine French Patisserie & Bistro. We bought a few things here and they were fabulous!

From Montreal, we travelled by train along the St. Lawrence River to Quebec City. We stayed just outside Old Quebec and once again spent much of our time walking and taking in the history around us. It is certainly a very touristy area, but we thoroughly enjoyed it. We gravitated toward the museums, historic buildings and churches. One museum, in Montreal, even took us underground, where we walked through part of the city’s early sewer system and saw the remains of one of its earliest settlements.

Feast your eyes on a petite, curvy beauty, whose feisty retort can really go boom when you light her fuse . . . and to the left of Lisa a canon, Quebec City.

There were so many wonderful sights and experiences throughout the trip that I know we will remember for years to come. But what made it particularly special was experiencing it all with my best friend and the woman I have loved for more than 40 years.

And then there was Toast.

It is wonderful to have a puppy in our lives again. Lisa and I have missed Willow terribly. My excursions into the bush and my nights spent out under the stars simply haven’t felt the same without her beside me.

Training a new dog will be a lot of work, and I expect Toast will be different from both Willow and Slinky. She will have her own personality, her own quirks and her own instincts. We aren’t looking for another Willow. We are looking forward to getting to know Toast for who she is.

And I am especially looking forward to the first time I take her into the bush, let her put that dachshund nose to the ground, and watch her discover a world that already seems to be in her blood.

Stay tuned for Toast.

Mid June

A Highland Cow enjoying the abundant grass.

The garden is on the verge of catching hold. The cucumbers have not enjoyed the rain but are still hanging on as are the tomatoes. Not exactly flourishing though.

A few things came up very spotty. Beets and lettuce for instance, strange as they usually come up like gangbusters. I did use old seed, perhaps that made a difference.

The starlings have vacated the hole in the top of our tree. With the foliage out in full force one could hardly see the hole. The young ones have learned to fly and flown the coop.

My trips in the bush have not been as frequent. Still missing Willow. Lisa has been trying to track down another Wire-Haired Standard Dachshund but they are hard to come by. They are much more popular in Europe. I have joked that I’m going to go to Poland to get a hound. Our Wire-Haired before Willow, Slinky was from Poland. She was also a fantastic dog.

Here are a few pics from June.

A Roundleaf Orchid. I returned to this orchid recently to get a picture of the flowers open and it had been munched off. Flowers are a favourite of bears. There was plenty of sign to confirm this suspicion.

Lola helping me find Orchids along the game trails.

Coral Orchid. These were everywhere and reminded me of Asparagus.

Following a game trail. I often followed game trails when I was young, hunting, but often, just trying to learn from the animals. Where they were going, what routes they chose, where they would dip down for water or rise onto the mountain side, the tracks they left and which animals shared the route. My young self figured they knew the bush better than us, so why not learn from them. Older now I have trouble managing the deadfalls.

Bog Orchid.

An Oldtimer harvesting pine pollen. This was taken on a walk with Lisa, Cooper and Scarlett. The kids asked what pine pollen is good for. I told them it was good for the immune system and can even be used as an aphrodisiac. Cooper wanted to know what an aphrodisiac was, Lisa said it can give a man an erection. Cooper’s response was, “Why would somebody want more of those.”

Storm Clouds

The two starlings are quiet while they tend to their young in the nest. They are busy going back and forth. Starlings are almost never quiet, usually kicking up a fuss, but they are not taking any chances giving themselves away. The hole at the top of the tree is mostly covered now too, with the leaves fully out.

Lisa says she can hear the young ones, but I can’t. My ears have been plugged from a head cold. This morning I drove out of the mountains and the change in altitude really plugged them up. I stopped at a gas station and when I went in to pay, a woman started talking to me and I couldn’t hear a word she said. I just nodded along with, “Ya,” “Ah-huh,” “Oh ya,” “Ya.” She could have been telling me my fly was undone, or that I’d just won a prize. To top it off, I’d forgotten to put in my front teeth. Deaf without any bite. Oh well.

Up the pass the creeks were flowing muddy from the recent rains. Lola again was on loan. We found some yellow orchids, though they were not blooming yet. The Venus orchids were out in large patches and were even starting to die back.

I was very happy with the photo I snapped that leads this post. To think that this delicate plant lives all year beneath the moss and bark that make up the forest floor, then picks just the right time to bloom in such a magnificent show that only lasts a short while before disappearing almost undetectably for another year. They are sometimes called fairy orchids as they flutter just above the forest floor. It would be a shame not to celebrate them while we are here.

***

A month or so ago I was doing some work at a set of fancy condos overlooking the lake. I saw a guy walking by from the lakeshore, stopping here and there to look around. I thought he was lucky to be out for a walk, unhurried, with time to take in the sights looking back toward the lake.

Not long after he had passed, I felt eyes on me. Busy working, I looked over my shoulder and there was the same guy hiding behind a partition, videoing me.

Once spotted, he tried to hide better. I said, “Hold on, you look like you have some questions.”

He told me he was on the strata board and that he saw me putting hot tub water on the grass. I told him he didn’t see that because I wasn’t, not that it would have mattered much if I had — it probably would have done the grass good. I also told him it wasn’t a very good idea sneaking up on people. All in all, it was an okay but strange interaction.

A week ago I was back at the same condo complex. This time I heard a yell that made me jump.

“I told you not to put hot tub water on the grass!”

Again, I wasn’t. But this time I couldn’t see the guy. I knew it was the sneak from last time. He was somewhere above me on one of the balconies.

I said, “Come on down here.”

And he did.

I had been nice the first time. This time I wasn’t.

***

It sure is good riding the backroads. Here is a picture from coming off the mountain toward the storm clouds down in the valley bottom.

Searching

Everywhere we looked, animals were ducking for cover, which was essentially what we were doing. We got higher than we’d been since November. The clouds quickened. A rabbit jumped off the trail. Squirrels had left their cones shredded on the deadfalls. A small falcon tested the wind, curious enough to hang around and get a good look at us. Several light-coloured swifts flew like bullets through the timber. They must have an amazing navigation system. Thrushes, robins, and juncos scattered, disturbed by the two of us early on the trail.

And the quiet was wonderful, exactly what the ears needed.

We stopped below a rock bluff with a view north. The valley bottom was long gone. We could see storms forming above Baldy, sheets of misty rain rolling closer while the clouds directly overhead kept flowing north. A great collision, perhaps. Would the rain get through?

We spotted a large black bear below, near where we had come from. It was accompanied by a few crows and several grey jays perched on the top spikes of spruce and pine. We kept our eyes on them as they turned back down the mountain. We wished them peace, and for them to stay hidden, the same wish for ourselves.

The northern clouds won. Hail and snow started to fall. It wouldn’t last; it was spring after all, and blue sky was already showing through.

***

The other day I was cut off by a tourist in a shiny little sports car with all its windows tinted black. All the stuff I had on my seats ended up on the floor when I slammed on the brakes. If Willow had of been there she would have crashed into the dashboard, which she has done before on similar occasions.

I cursed, not at the driver, who had long sped off, but at this reminder that we are again on the verge of another busy tourist season.

Orchids

A couple of days ago, Lisa mentioned that the Calypso orchids should be blooming. I’m usually on top of these things, but I don’t get out into the bush as much anymore without Willow spurring me on.

Today I left the gardening behind and headed out to see how spring in the mountains was progressing. To make things even better, the kids lent me Lola to tag along.

Lola is a wonderful dog — well behaved, sweet, and kind. She’s recovering from an injury, so I have to keep her close, which is no problem at all. Although she’s a big dog and can look a little menacing, she is anything but.

This is how a conversation with Lola goes:

Chipmunk chirps somewhere off in the distance.

Lola: “Did you hear that?”

Me: “Yep.”

Lola: “What was it?”

Me: “Sounds like a chipmunk.”

Lola: (worried look) “Do you think it’s friendly?”

And this is how a conversation with little Willow went:

Willow: “Bark, growl, bark, growl, bark, bark, bark!”

Bear runs and climbs tree.

Willow: “Did you see that?”

Me: “Yes. You scared the bear up a tree.”

Willow: “It’s lucky I can’t climb trees, or I’d go up there and kick its ass.”

Then she’d scrape her paws on the ground like a bull getting ready to charge and puff out her chest like she ruled the mountains.

Lola and I did find some orchids growing on the soft, mossy forest floor. We even sat together and watched the sun rise above the mountains and warm our faces.

Two years ago, on May 10 and 11, we experienced an incredible solar storm. Lisa and I spent the night outside, and neither of us had ever seen anything like it. Auroras pulsed and waved in every direction and continued throughout the entire night.

This photo is from that unforgettable evening

Slow Release Rain

That’s as far as we are going up that road.

A good snow storm blew through. Lola and I were caught out digging Willow’s grave. Big flakes, heavy falling straight down, the mountains and valley bottom obscured. By the time it stopped there was about a foot where we were and a few inches in the garden. It will do everything good.

We got Willow’s name carved into a rock. She is going far off the trail. No-one will ever find her unless they know where to look. She would like that.

The Crocuses are just coming out. I had expected them earlier considering our mild winter. The Osprey’s are back, also on time. The back roads are muddy as the frost comes out of the ground. This is the time I usually get stuck, pushing my luck along the mountain creeks trying to get back to November high. It’s easier when the frost is going into the backroads. Wet snow doesn’t help.

Lola is coming back from a pretty good injury, so her and I just poke about.

Willow

November 2014 – February 2026

Before Christmas, Willow started coughing. At first, I thought she might have swallowed some water or picked up something she shouldn’t have. But when it didn’t stop, we took her to the vet. An X-ray showed that her heart was very enlarged — so large it nearly filled her entire chest cavity and was pressing against her trachea, which was causing the cough.

The vet prescribed medication, and thankfully the coughing stopped. She seemed to return to her old self.

From the time she was young, though, we were always told she had an irregular heartbeat. Sometimes it beat so lightly that, over time, her heart grew larger. It’s almost funny, everyone who knew Willow always said she had a big heart. In more ways than one, that was true.

Unfortunately, the coughing returned in February. Even then, she still loved her routines; eating well, going for walks, and sitting in front of the fire. During the day she managed quite well, but the nights were harder.

On her last day, she visited all her favourite places. She even barked at her favourite lady at the Tim Horton’s drive-through, and of course, she was rewarded with a Tim Bit.

On February 17th, Willow passed away. She was not in pain. She was in Lisa’s and my arms.

Willow shared so many adventures with us. The mountains feel different now without her. We always had an unspoken agreement to keep each other safe. She took her job seriously, more than once chasing bears up trees, and doing her best to keep flying creatures away (not ideal when you’re trying to photograph them). The Wire-Haired Dachshund is known as courageous, intelligent, stubborn and loving. Willow was had all of these traits. She could also be funny and seemed to take joy in making her people laugh.

During the Olympics there was a commercial featuring an AI figure-skating bear. Every time it came on, Willow, even though she wasn’t feeling good, would leap up, run to the television, and bark.

Willow gave us everything she had for eleven wonderful years. We are all going to miss her. It’s going to be hard without her.

Friends

Dog, departed companion
I told you that the sky would fall in
and it did. How will we see each other again
when we’re without eyes? We’ll figure it out
as we used to when you led me back
to the cabin in the bush in the dark.

Jim Harrison