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

Early May

A Bighorn of the pressured Swansea herd. Photo by Lisa.

The Starlings outlasted the Flickers for the hole in the tree to build their nest. They are busy darting in and out. I try not to look at them as they get nervous with their eggs. Each day I put out a few peanuts for a Crow that is back to watch over the garden. The Crow used to bother Willow.

Not much moisture yet. I dug out some old raspberry canes that had stopped producing to make room for some squash plants. My kids are excited for the garden this year as the price of produce skyrockets. The thing about Lisa and I is we come from a long line of people who had very little, so it’s in our DNA to be able make do with not much.

Meanwhile the tourists and second home owners are flowing into the valley tearing it up.

Killdeer

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.

This guy will overlook Willow’s spot. She always gave this stump a bark then looked at me embarrassed. I wonder if he knows The Birchman.

Mid March

The kids are on spring break. I have been lucky to spend my days off with them hiking a few trails. They move faster than me and go ahead, stop and let me catch up. Every once and awhile Scarlett stops and proclaims she can’t go on. Cooper encourages her, and then she is off running again. I wish I could get a second wind so fast.

Yesterday we hiked north of the lakes and spotted a large flock of swans floating in the wetlands. Today we went to the start of the lake to assure the ice was completely gone from the two lakes.

This is early for the ice to be off the lakes. It was as late as anyone can remember freezing over (after Christmas), making it the shortest time ice has covered the lakes. The ice was never that thick through the winter. I didn’t even try to get the truck out on the ice this year.

Today was warm, clouded over, windy with a spit of rain here and there. Amazingly, we saw several ant hills with the red ants on the top moving slowly getting their house in order. The ice may be off the lake but the frost is still in the ground. These insects are early. Amazing creatures. We also saw several caterpillars crawling about. It might just be my imagination but the lake seems a different colour at ice out then in years gone by.

It’s nice the kids let me tag along.

Snow

About 8 inches of wet snow fell last night. The roads turned slick. We were due in Calgary, but decided to reschedule.

I have included another couple of pictures of the eclipse. I was happy to be able to capture some of the stars around the moon, usually impossible during a full moon as its shine drowns them out. Regulus can be seen above the moon and several stars from the constellation Leo.

***

I changed the oil and filters in my truck yesterday. I haven’t done that in a real long time. I usually take the truck down to Cranbrook an hour and a half down the road for service. People ask why I don’t get it serviced closer to home. The answer is: I’ve always done this. At one time I knew most of the mechanics in the valley and I didn’t want to dislike them. Mechanics are notorious for fucking up and it’s never their fault. Granted they have to keep up on ever changing technology and it can’t be easy. So I drive 150 km out of my way. That way if I’m pissed off at the quality of the work it is at a place out of sight and not at a mechanic I play hockey with on Sunday night, or see at the school picking up their kids.

Now, I have to admit, it probably cost me more to change it myself. First, I bought synthetic oil and a good quality filter.

Second, I had to make a trip to the hardware to buy a six point 15mm socket because the goddamn oil plug was in so tight. The wrenches I had were twelve point and I didn’t want to round off the plug, or I would have been going to the mechanic for a real big bill, and the mechanic would not have spared me from letting me know what a fool I was.

Third, I checked online to see where to take the old oil for recycling. The first place I took it wouldn’t take it, the second place said they stopped taking it. So I drove it over to the landfill who said they don’t take it, but gave me the name of a place that did, and surprise, an hour and a half later and a few litres of Trumps expensive gas, I finally got rid of it.

And fourth, my pants and jacket become thoroughly dirty from lying on the ground, requiring me to spend more time and detergent washing them. Actually, I’ve kept them hidden waiting for a good time to show them to Lisa.

So there you have it, done in by my own hard headedness. Which is a common occurrence.

Flying By

Bohemian Waxwings.

We missed a good episode of Auroras a few days ago. Lots of cloud cover. It has cooled off a little, but not enough to clear the skies. The snow has melted in the valley bottom and everything looks grey and dusty in the lengthening day.

Hard to believe we are almost a month into 2026.

Travelling Riverside Blues.

Clear

Along the great Columbia River where it starts as a trickle.

The first clear night in a long while. Warm weather in winter is usually accompanied by cloud and we have had our share.

It’s tougher to stay up late for Willow and I. We had intended to head into the mountains. But the thought of breaking through snow to the knee stopped me. Willow would have been okay. The warm weather softened the snow, with the cooler weather putting a hard crust on the surface, but not enough to hold me.

We stuck to the valley bottom. And headed for the source of the Columbia River. The warmth has robbed the ground of snow and has left a layer of ice. I walked carefully. I could hear Willow’s nose going constantly. She is slowing down, grateful for the smells that still cause a wag and bark.

The Old Geary Place with Orion standing guard.

The winter stars were out in force. Orion ruled the dim end of the Milky Way, Sirus twinkled so much when I caught it in the corner of my eye I thought it was a falling star. Jupiter shone bright above the great chase.

To see it in force, while I try to make sense of it all, knowing all along it’s all a best guess is somehow comforting.

A fine night to count the stars.