Late August

Darker mornings. Cooler and it feels good. Been rearranging the wood pile to make sure last years wood gets burned first.

Good to get out mid week and walk up the mountains.

There is still a lot of tourists doing dumb things. Lisa and I ran into a bunch today. They can’t help it. They have been told they can’t do the things they have been doing for years due to Covid, and the recent forest fires.

It is a free for all now. Just look at the news.

Tourists, especially from Alberta, have taken a stand and, damned and determined, hell or high-water, regardless of right or wrong are going to do as they damn well please. They have been held back long enough. Unfortunately, they exercise it on vacation.

I mention Alberta, but it’s the same everywhere in cities. Too many people too close to each other with the only thing in common is buying shit.

If you live here you see it. Even the part time workers can’t wait to get away come September.

It’s a different world. One where you can’t believe the news, reliable sources have become sketchy pushing an agenda.

Everyone has bought in, taking from what they want to believe. Forgetting there is only one truth and importance, helping.

Hope

The smoke has returned. We have had several wind storms that have caused the local fires to flare up. The Horsethief Fire has caused Panorama Resort and surrounding homes to be put back on evacuation alert. Still we are better off than many parts of BC and the Yukon where cities have, started, or been evacuated.

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Last week during the Perseid Meteor Shower the skies were free of smoke. Shortly after smoke rolled back in. Lisa is finding it hard to breath.

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The valley bottom, including the town of Invermere, historically was grasslands. Due to fire suppression and development it is now mostly trees, shrubs and buildings. Drought has become commonplace. The trees and underbrush is dryer by the year. It will burn again as it previously has done even without the added effects of climate change. We won’t be able to prevent it.

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Meanwhile the tourists continue to travel here and can be found at every back country lake, on every gravel road and on every smoke filled patio. Recreating, hard, like everything is fine. I don’t understand. Maybe they are trying, like Jim Morrison said, ‘To get their kicks in before the whole shithouse goes up in flames’. It doesn’t encourage me to hold out hope for where we are heading.

Perseids

After an evening nap Willow and I headed for the bush. We got out walked here and there, getting our bearings. It’s been awhile since we have been out at night looking skyward.

We were lucky to see several Perseid Meteors. Lucky as well to get a few pics.

Perseus, The Andromeda Galaxy and Cassiopea. The meteors didn’t cooperate for this photo. If I had’ve slipped into that creek Willow would have ran through bush and thicket down the mountain, following me to the Columbia River.

It was clear and the moon, waning into a thin crescent, stayed down until mid morning.

Hounds Tooth, The Milky Way and a bright Perseid.

We saw deer, an owl, porcupine and rabbits. Luckily Willow didn’t see the porcupines.

The second picture of the night captured a long Perseid Meteor.

I can’t see in the dark like I used to. If I was younger I’d give tonight another go. I don’t think last night was the peak.

We were out of the mountains and at work on time at 5:30 am. Willow slept in the truck.

A very fine night.

Teller of Tails

Willow has been a pain in the arse lately, catching scents through the open windows at night. She does a low bark, woof, woof, not at her usual full volume.

She seems to do it as I am just falling asleep after getting up to pee. Her woof reminds me that she has our back and I also need a drink of water. While up I put her out. She sits on the step. Not getting down to pee or shit. She just watches.

I bring her in, and go back to bed. Before long it’s woof, woof, low, just enough to get my attention.

It could be ghosts she is nudging me about, spirits I can’t see, or a skunk outside the window. She has never been able to tell the difference between a mouse or cougar and treats them the same.

Still, I’m blind to both and appreciate assistance, regardless of annoyance.

Travel

If someone asked me what has changed with the weather, I’d say, it’s windy now especially when it is hot in July and August. You can almost feel the moisture being sucked out of the ground. I can’t remember it that way when I was young.

I may be wrong. I am often called an imbecile by plenty of folks because I’ve never travelled. I can’t argue with them. However, I know what I see, the garden backs me up as well as the lake and mountains. I feel sorry for them, they are changing, some would say dying or even burning. I feel sorry because of the abuse. Still, they will be here much longer than we will.

We had word a fire was threatening the power supply to the valley. I thought about the food I have in the freezer. I thawed a leg of lamb and made vindaloo for the clan. Not a summer meal, but cooler than roasting it in the oven.

Several fires have started near by in the past couple days. The Horsetheif Fire came over the ridge this afternoon. It looks to be moving quickly. Edgewater, a community 25km north of us, is reporting burnt ash and needles falling on decks and vehicles.

The wind driving the fire is blowing south/east while a thunderstorm came in heading north/west. A double whammy.

Meanwhile, I am on my perch, where I’ve always been, the imbecile that I am, listening to tourists from Alberta race up and down Main Street in loud cars, RV’s and motorcycles.

This weekend I encountered a group of old bastards about my age, there must of been thirty of them, riding Indian Motorcycles all dressed in chaps and leather vests with the Indian insignia. I couldn’t help but think looking at these dip shits that we are all doomed.

It won’t be coking coal making steel that is our demise. It will be rich fuckers getting on planes, entitled to do as they please, without consequence, that will catch up to us.

Not that anybody’s listening, if you want to make a difference, stay home. Don’t bring millions of dollars worth of toys into a place you know nothing about just because you can. Stay home and make a life there.

Fireweed

Lisa and I headed out early to avoid the ruck. The town put on Valley Appreciation Day. It used to be called Visitor Appreciation Day. Before that it was called Alberta Appreciation Days. Alberta tourists/2nd home owners, making up the majority of visitors to the Columbia Valley. Regardless of the name it is a good day to get the fuck out of the valley bottom.

The huckleberries are under there somewhere.

We took to the mountains in search of huckleberries. We had success. The huckleberries were out and small. We stumbled onto a few good patches to fill our buckets.

Willow rustled rodents. Her tongue swollen and panting. She is a good dog. Lisa says I have to mind her better as she is getting old. I don’t have the heart to shut down her fun even if it’s for her own good.

Getting a swim in the creek. Perfect to cool off.

Lisa kept picking after I reached my limit. We creeped down the mountain in the afternoon, knowing town would be clear, cautious never the less.

A very fine day.

July Garden

Even Willow was powerless against the grasshoppers.

The garden is doing it’s best after being ravaged by grasshoppers. The grasshoppers are still around in abundance but not eating as much as when they were small. When we have vegetables from the garden for dinner I remark my thankfulness that the grasshoppers were kind enough to leave it for us. They were ravenous bastards.

No carrots this year. Almost everything had to be replanted. Strangely they didn’t like peas, which are about 6 feet tall and covered in pods. The tomatoes, they mostly left alone. Same as the zucchini. Everything else was at their mercy.

The cannabis is coming and I’m about to trick it into thinking it’s dying so it will flower. The grasshoppers ate it as well, but it fought back on its own. The grasshoppers who indulged were last seen, wearing dark glasses, listening to jazz, riding vans, driven by a ladybug, down to SF, Haight Ashbury, to find themselves. I’m happy I could, at least, convert a few. The stoned grasshoppers remaining are degenerates, happy to listen to Led Zeppelin overflowing from the gardeners earbuds. They are hard to motivate, but great to have a conversation with once you get them going, unfortunately they still like to snack.

We will miss the carrots. I planted zucchini in many of spots in the garden that the grasshoppers destroyed. We are going to have ‘chini coming out our ears. I won’t be able to give them away. My friends will see me coming and scatter.

Old Tracks

Hind and front. Glad we came along later.

Before bed I thought I’d better make sure the garden gate was closed. Walked outside into a warm evening. I never walk anywhere without boots. The garden is only thirty paces from the basement door. I figured I was safe to go barefoot. Half way there I stepped on a wasp and got stung in the crotch of the big toe and the tall one next to it. Damn. That’s seven stings this year! It could be my new record.

I remember when I was about four, one morning, I took a stick and knocked down a nest in the shed. I was stung on the nose. That night I was with my Dad picking raspberries at my Aunt Elenor’s place and got stung on the ass.

Dad thought it was hilarious I was stung on the nose and ass in the same day. He laughed telling Mom when we got home. I couldn’t see the humour in it at the time. Now I am a Dad and Grandad it is damn funny. I can’t help laughing when I reminisce.

Canada Day

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.

Early Summer

A Blue Heron considers eating a Striped Turtle. The turtle says, not today or tomorrow.

When we were kids, the long weekend in May was the earliest you would even consider being in the lake.

Mom used to say get burned in May and it will turn into tan for the rest of summer.

The sun felt good back then. So did the lake. One would ease the other.

The sun made me sleepy back then. It was like being a garter snake coming out from the clay banks and laying on railway ties. Like everything was okay.

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Busier than shit these last few days. It’s close to 100° out there and someone told me the pool was too cold. It’s 78°.

I told them the hot tubs are hotter and the river is colder.

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The wasps are building their hives. I was called to take one down. I didn’t feel bad as it was over a doorway. It was a poor choice for the queen. She flew away and I hope she finds a spot underground where it is cool and nobody complains.

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There are thousands of tiny grasshoppers out there. They are going to love the coming hot weather.

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Lisa says we should get our firewood before they close the bush down. I agree it could be a hotter than hell summer.

Palliser Pass

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