Aurora

Aurora do not have a specific season they are more prevalent, however, I have always had more luck seeing them in the spring.

With the sun becoming more active, now is the time to start watching. Unfortunately light pollution makes Northern Lights difficult to see. Lisa is very good at detecting auroras through the light pollution in the valley bottom. When she sees them we head into the mountains and hope they flare up.

Geomagnetic storms are predicted for the night of March 30th, morning of the 31st so keep your eyes peeled.

Late March

Kelsie, Cooper and Scarlett called to me to complete the ring. This Fir tree would be well over 300 years old. To think of its place in history. The many forest fires it survived, drought, world wars, colonization and the epic battles of the lands first people. It resides in a place known for warring between the Ktunaxa and the Peigan Blackfeet Pikáni. This one even survived the greed of developers. This area, on the east side of Columbia Lake is now protected, the developers satiated after being handsomely paid off.

This was the time of year I’d get stuck, sometimes on the flat. Teaches me for running around on bald tires. I don’t have to do that like I used to. I’d ask Bucky which tires had the most rubber after the tread was worn off. That’s how you know a good tire. It is easy to slip slide yourself into real trouble.

An old Ranger with a mismatched box. Smelling like oil and rust, but can still deliver a half yard of well rotted manure.

I took one of these roads yesterday. The snow hard in the trees, soft where the sun hits. Four wheel drive can’t save you once the truck starts pushing snow. It gathers under the truck and before long you either need to shovel or hope for another week of warm weather.

Spring clouds with a few more snowstorms inside. I could always walk up that hill if someone was chasing me, I bet they would give up before I did.

The plants have been started inside. Tomatoes (Black Krim, Brandywine and Black Cherry), basil, some flowers and a couple varieties of cannabis. The frost is out of the ground where my garden lays and is waiting to be dug. Scarlett, Cooper and I took down the tall sunflower plants we left for the winter birds.

Scarlett smelled them before she found the Juniper Berries. It’s Spring after all, they are filling with sap. She stuffed her pockets to take to her friend Savannah, she said. Hopefully Kelsie checked her pockets before doing the wash.

***

Amazing everything said is taken seriously. The figuring consciences is that both are inside us. Bad and good. We use them to get what we want.

Kindness works almost always. But if you have to fight back, fight back harder.

***

Don’t think I forget every old timer like me on the road is a desperate man. It makes me drive close to the shoulder. Not to mention the middle age driving up my ass and the youngsters taking too long in the Horton’s line. For the most part everyone is respectful. But you never know when that might change. We all have reason after all.

Walking the Rails/Women’s Day

Walked the tracks on the weekend to the old fishing holes I used to be so fond of when I was a youngster. It was about this time of year I used to throw the first lines with the hope of hooking a nice char.

The old bridge site and brush thicker than the hair on a dog’s back.

The walk is different now. For one I don’t carry a rod. Willow enjoys trotting the banks among her namesake the Red Willow lining the Columbia. We did it early in the morning before the mud thawed, saving Willow from bringing her weight home in river silt.

A couple large Swans, either Tundra or Trumpeter, flying north. At one time they were nearly hunted to extinction. Their loud honking is exceptional, as was evident on our walk. When they are shot and dying they make a soft cooing, known as the Swan song. Incredible birds and hard to sneak up on. Perhaps they tired of being shot.

There is nothing as soothing as walking railway ties. Seeing how many you can step at once walking or running. Balancing the rail, jumping from rail to rail. Giving the engineers a wave, counting cars until the red caboose. And if lucky, on the way home, the train would slow enough to swing up onto a coal car and jump off right beside our old house where it was sure to slow due to the half mile of twined track. The trick was not to let the engineer or brakeman in the caboose see you. This required walking further up river from home while tired and often late to a bend in the tracks. Sometimes the train wouldn’t come and it was a longer walk home and a scolding for not arriving on time. Admittedly the scoldings were never much in our house. Looking back I’m not sure my parents even knew I was late until I walked in.

Willow gets ready to drive away regardless if I am ready or not or if the windows have been scraped.

Now you can get fined for walking the rails by the CPR police. Luckily they are not around much. They make a concentrated effort to fine trespassers after someone throws themselves under a train, which happens more often than you think it would. They always rule it an accident.

A young Mule Deer doe gives us a look and listen.

As a twelve year old carrying a pack and fishing rod I never had a problem. If the train was going too fast I gave it a pass even if it made the walk home long. Don’t think I could run fast enough to grab the ladder now. Besides what would Willow do?

***

It is International Women’s Day. In honour, this is a video our Granddaughter Scarlett and her Mom sent Lisa and I today.

I believe her!

bird watch

Took off for the creek this morning. At first, we thought the valley bottom would be best. Reconsidered when the mud bogged us down.

The ground is frozen still with melt running over, making a mess of it, challenging buds to appear. Instead we headed higher, until we found a solid layer of ice and snow underfoot. Willow was saved a bath.

The birds have been at it. Most I can’t see. We hear them, chirping and singing, a crow spread it’s wings on the ground, shaking like taking a bath. It is hard to know what it means.

Time to start looking for the first robin singing or owl hooting.

Early March

The fucking world keeps us on our toes. War, racism, bigotry, sickness; not a lot of good news out there.

Our connection to the Earth is in jeopardy. To be clear, the Earth doesn’t care. It will survive in spite of our abuse. Rocks can be moved, crushed and turned into metal, blasted into space even. It is us that have polluted that thin part of the sky that keeps us alive, no longer allowing us to see The Milky Way. The stars that put us in our place are gone.

No wonder we turn against one another.

Something

Chilly, only -10°c in the creek bottom but with a stiff breeze. A difference from the warm winter we have been experienced.

***

An unexpected day off today. Got to the resort and was told to go home due to to it being a stat. The manager usually tells us when he doesn’t want us in on a stat. I’m not surprised, it has been slow for the managers, with ours being particularly aloof, dumbfounded really, and that’s when shit get’s overlooked. Regardless, I was happy to have another day off, even if the money would have been good. Guaranteed it will be a shit show tomorrow with things left undone for three days.

***

Prices are going crazy, inflation the news reports. Fuel a buck-sixty a litre with everyday heading higher. Beef over $50 a kg. Houses in the valley out of reach other than for our neighbours to the east, who, regardless of their constant bitching about how hard done by they are, continue to come in droves, driving three-quarter tons pulling trailers full of snowmobiles and retiring to their cabins (read abominable, opulent second homes) on the shores and hills overlooking Lake Windermere. What a disgrace this once pristine lake has had to endure.

***

Speaking of snowmobile enthusiasts. Willow and I took a drive to a launching spot for sledders. It was the tail end of the weekend and they were all safely tucked in. The lot was littered with garbage, piss and feces. I didn’t let Willow out of the vehicle. She would have worn herself out marking her territory. I once had a Wire-Haired that would have rolled in such offerings.

***

The yahoos in Ottawa have called it a day and left the city. They are so comfortable they can’t even pick a fight against a cause that could make a difference. Sure, it was a ragtag group of racists, homophobes and dipshits, however, there was also lot of regular people there, protesting the fact government is far reaching and incompetent.

Of course, government is incompetent, that is almost the definition of Canadian government. Trudeau’s handling of this crisis has been a disaster. Maxime Bernier, the leader of the People’s Party of Canada is rubbing his hands together at the strides they have made. Whenever you see yellow vested old-time racists, hardworking truckers, and yoga loving, health conscious hippy chicks commiserating together can only signal a movement that may even take Canadian elitists by storm.

***

This of course is all above my pay grade. There is nothing coming around the corner to make it better. When my mother was dying she said she didn’t worry about Lisa and I. We would always get by. I didn’t like she said it, but took it to heart. It didn’t sound like much of an endorsement, but, when you think about how many people don’t get by, it’s something.

early rising

A Pine Grosbeak welcomes the waxing moon.

Willow and I were up early creek bound. Willow knows when I don’t have to work by the clothes I put on. She saw the woolen shirt and was excited. It was clear, with the the moon still up. There was no way she was being left at home.

A piece of toast and we were on our way. We were only a few miles away when I realized I forgot the camera battery, having put it on the charger earlier, an essential piece of equipment if your goal is to take pictures of the night sky. A quick trip back and we were back on track.

Creek bound. This is a single 15 second image capturing 4 or 5 satellites (the one closest to the mountain top could be a meteor. They streak due to their movement during the slow shutter speed. There is a lot of them orbiting the earth. It’s getting tough to get a photo without one being caught in the frame.

Once in the creek bottom we listened for whoots. The Great Horned Owl is the first to get frisky and roost. The creek was silent but for running water. No barks from Willow to let me know we had company. Even the moon choose to go down, darkening the skies, leaving us to our own devices.

It’s been awhile since I’ve been out charting the night sky. It changes every time I look at it. It’s important to become familiar with it again.

A few photos

**Water Ouzel**
The short tailed American Dipper. Willow and I watched this little guy for about an hour. It seemed to enjoy performing for our entertainment. Of course, maybe it considered us the entertainment as both Willow and I got stuck in the hip high snow trying to get a closer look.

**Signs of Spring**
I thought these may be the earliest pussywillows until I found a post from a few years ago of pussywillows in January.

**Morning Sun**
A small Chickadee or Nuthatch (I love subjects you can study your entire life and still not be an expert) looks for sunflower seeds stashed in the fall.

Early 2022

Happy New Year! A very fine day. First footed Deb this morning. Lot’s of laughs and some special coffee, made extra sweet to ward off the chill. Willow and Maynard enjoyed a few treats. Kurt and I talked about our diminished cocks. . . it’s tough to know when to replace an old rooster.

Lunch at Kelsie and Tom’s. I lost a basement soccer game against Cooper 8-10. I was tripped at one point and rolled around trying to draw a yellow card. He just laughed and punted the ball in the net.

Hunter and I headed out into the bush, in the afternoon, to give the hounds a run.

Even the snow under our feet gets interesting. It is the consolation prize for getting on.

Willow and Pedley are still getting used to each other. Willow is not fond of puppies. Pedley is trying hard to get Willow to like her. Willow is not much for playing, however they seemed to enjoy the snow and a few sticks thrown for their amusement. Hunter commented that he hopes Pedley doesn’t pick up any of Willow’s bad habits. I secretly hoped Hunter doesn’t pick up any of mine.

If you are reading this, all the best in 2022.

Boxing Day

A wonderful Christmas with most of our children around. We missed Maddy and Chad.

Lot’s of food, of course, and presents.

Cooper and Scarlett couldn’t believe their luck and must have figured they’d been good for the entire year. Food and presents kept coming.

We missed out last year. Considering everything that went on with the pandemic, we were determined not to be apart again.

If there is a lesson to be had, it’s how to stay together in a world that we are told is crumbling.

Everything that comes over our table has truth and some fabrication. I still stick my nose out at night to test the temperature and see if the snow is falling.

It’s cold and I like it. Frozen boots with warm socks. Ice hanging off the river’s edge. Eyelashes thick with frost. Breath freezing into shapes like a Genie coming out of a lamp. Snow, swift, kickable under step. The wood splitting easy at 20°.

Palliser Pass

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Tag: environment