Tag: journal

Mid July

The bright light of Invermere compete with the Milky Way.

There was a time when we used to run up Mt. Swansea and spend the night in the fire lookout. We challenged each other when we were teenagers. Usually booze was involved, as it seemed to be in just about everything if you grew up in the valley.

That lookout could get cold. I remember one of our drunken ascents, waking up freezing in the morning. My friend had wrapped himself in a sheet of plastic he’d found. At first glance, I wondered if he had suffocated himself. Luckily, he’d left just his nose uncovered so he could breathe.

The fire lookout had a mounted scope and a large map of the entire area spread across a table in the middle of the room. If the lookout spotted a fire, they would locate it on the map and radio in the coordinates. The lookouts don’t exist anymore. Satellites, helicopters, and GPS have taken their place. The one on Swansea was dismantled long ago.

The Milky Way through the smoke rises above the Town of Windermere and Lake Windermere.

Tonight, I drove most of the way up and hiked the last section to the summit. The mountain is used primarily for mountain biking now, and I rarely go up anymore. But I figured it would be quiet in the middle of the night, and I was right. There were only rabbits and one owl that silently flew across the trail in front of me, giving me a start just the same. Willow would have taken exception to that.

At the top, I took a few photos from the spot where the lookout once stood. There are definitely more lights now than when I used to run up here. It was a young moon and had set much earlier. There was some smoke and a few low clouds, but otherwise the viewing was good. The lights washed out many of the stars, but the Milky Way could still be seen clearly.

Ready for take off. Several satellites cut through the galaxy.

This may look like a meteor near Perseus, however it is either the International Space Station or the China Space Station. The streak is the distance it moves during the 20 seconds the camera shutter is open. It started very bright then faded.

Old Friends

The old frame with a repurposed matt and rhubarb leaf print done on Environment 110 lb card with printers ink.

I don’t see many people at work anymore. That’s by choice.

My jobs come to me through an app the night before or first thing in the morning, and away I go. With a little planning, it’s easy to schedule jobs for times when people are less likely to be around.

My phone is set to accept calls only from work or immediate family. My bosses contact me through the app. Everything else is screened by AI.

It’s a survival tactic after years of being available at a moment’s notice to everyone, business and personal. This is where I am right now, and it’s working. It means less money, but more peace of mind.

The other day, though, I had two unexpected encounters with old friends.

While pulling into the gas station to refill a propane tank, I noticed a man standing beside a beat-up truck with a jerry can. He was holding a sign asking for gas money. He looked like someone I hadn’t seen in years. As I was leaving, I pulled up behind him. Not completely sure, I walked over and said his name.

He looked at me and replied, “Rob.”

Not many people ever called me Rob. He always had, ever since we met in grade school.

I hadn’t seen him since high school. He was a year ahead of me. He grew up in a small house close to the school with a short fence around it, kept in immaculate condition by his parents, who were wonderful people. He had several siblings.

We talked for a while. He introduced me to his wife, who was sitting in the truck. They were living out in the bush and invited me to stop by if I was ever in the area. I knew exactly where they had set up.

Living in the bush is something more and more people are doing these days. Of course, no one really wants to. The cost of living, especially housing is simply beyond the reach of many people in the valley.

Lisa and I were fortunate to buy our house almost forty years ago, when our money had much more buying power and owning a home was still within reach.

It was good to see him again and to meet his wife. I helped them out with some gas money, or whatever they felt they needed most. Lisa was saddened to hear about their circumstances. We’ll keep an eye out for them through the summer.

It seems that whenever I run into longtime locals, their circumstances are rarely good. Progress and unchecked growth, instead of delivering on their promises, have too often displaced the very people who built this valley.

The second encounter happened only about an hour later.

I pulled into a parking lot beside a Hummer covered in a realtor’s logos. I know the realtor. As far as realtors go, he’s one of the better ones. I saw him walking toward me and thought, Oh shit… I’m going to have to talk to him.

Just then a little beater car came flying into the lot, slammed on the brakes, kicked up a cloud of dust, and blocked both me and the Hummer in.

It was B. I hadn’t seen him in quite a while. He was another I went to school with. We’d also worked together years ago, and I never tired of his sense of humour. He delivered everything, good news or bad, with the same grin. He could get away with saying things no one else could.

The realtor looked more than a little surprised as B threw the car into reverse and cleared a path for the Hummer.

Then we stood there laughing and catching up.

B is on disability now with a bad back. His father had recently died just shy of a hundred years old, and B told me he’d taken to riding his mobility scooter down to the beach.

“Jesus, B,” I said. “You can walk.”

“Sure,” he said. “But this way I’ve always got a chair to sit on.”

That somehow led us onto another cheerful topic – dying.

B told me that years ago his ex-wife had suffered a series of heart attacks and was lying in the hospital on life support. When he went to visit, the staff assumed he was her current husband.

“They asked me what I thought,” he said. “I told them, ‘Pull the tubes. Unplug her. No one should have to live like that.'”

While the staff went to get the doctor, her actual husband arrived.

“He told them not to unplug her,” B said. “‘She’s the only thing I’ve got.'”

B looked at him and said, “That’s bullshit. She’s just another welfare cheque to you.”

I stared at him.

“Holy shit,” I said. “What happened to your ex-wife?”

“Oh, she’s fine.”

“She recovered?”

“Oh yeah. This was years ago.”

“Damn, B,” I laughed. “You almost killed her.”

“Yup,” he said with that same big grin.

Then he peeled away, kicking up the dust that had finally settled since the beginning of our conversation.

I’m still laughing.

It’s good to only see the people you want to.

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.”

Wood Frames & Wild Orchids

Yellow Lady’s Slipper (Cypripedium calceolus)

My mother used to enjoy going to garage sales. She would find all kinds of treasures, some of which she would pass along to me. There were books she thought I would enjoy and old picture frames that I liked restoring. She had a great eye for a bargain.

Recently, I found an old wooden frame. It still had its original glass. The picture and mat inside had been badly damaged by water and could not be saved, they crumbled when I removed them. The frame, however, was still solid. I removed the rusted finishing nails that held the picture in place, along with the old hanging wire and the glass. The glass itself was old, with a few air bubbles trapped in it from when it was made. After a good cleaning, it was almost like new again, although it retained the slight tint that old glass often develops.

The frame was made of oak and had originally been stained black. Over time, the stain had weathered, allowing the grain to show through. That aging is exactly what I like to preserve. It is amazing how well some old frames were built. For one thing, they are made of solid wood.

After cleaning the dirt from the grooves with a toothbrush and giving it a very light sanding, I rubbed it with tung oil. This really brings out the patterns in the wood and helps nourish it. You can almost hear the wood saying, “Thanks!”

I’m not sure what I’m going to do with the frame once it’s ready for its new life. I’ll have to think of something.

***

Mountain Lady’s-Slippers (Cypripedium Montanum)

Lisa and I were poking around up the mountain the other day and spotted a few yellow lady’s-slippers and some mountain lady’s-slippers. They are right on schedule and seem to be enjoying the rain we’ve been having. These photos are from that outing.

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.

Spring Zodiacal

Sirius, Orion, Jupiter and Pleiades caught in zodiacal light.

A pair of Flickers have been fighting with a couple of Starlings for a hole in the top of the poplar out our window. Whoever has the upper hand usually camps out side the hole keeping the competition away. Sometimes it’s the Flicker sometimes it’s the Starling. I know how it’s going to end, because I saw the same show last year. Neither species will use the hole to nest, both considering it too dangerous because of each other.

Lisa and I saw and heard a few Meadowlarks below Swansea. Such a song. We look forward to it each spring.

I dug the garden, loosening up the soil with a pitchfork. There were plenty of worms. The garlic is all up and it looks like we should have a good crop. We are still eating last years. The daffodils are also up, despite the fact I thought I had dug them out. The garden is ready for some seeds. Within the week I hope to poke in some carrots, peas, beets and lettuce. It’s early but they can handle the chill. By May 24th I’ll get the rest planted.

Venus, just above the horizon at dusk.

Watched the sun set and waited to see if the zodiacal light would appear. Orion is in the west close to setting at dusk. It will be washed out by light soon, only to reappear to signal the coming fall. Venus was bright right on the western horizon. Jupiter was above Orion and Gemini ruling the sky. Sure enough a triangular white glow appeared with Pleiades caught in the light. Very fine spring day.

Eclipse

We were very fortunate to see the lunar eclipse on the morning of March 3rd, especially considering how cloudy it has been this winter.

I have included another photo from that night. Photographing the moon can be difficult. If you expose for the moon, the landscape often turns out very dark. If you expose for the landscape, the moon becomes completely blown out. I have always preferred photographing the moon in a blue sky at dusk or dawn. Doing so allows you to choose an exposure that works for everything in the frame.

I try to keep my astrophotography simple. Most of my images are single exposures. Occasionally I will take multiple images to create a panorama when I want to show more of the scene than a single frame can capture.

During this eclipse, however, I did something very common in astrophotography: I took two exposures of the same scene—one exposed for the moon and one for everything else. This allowed me to capture detail in the moon without it being blown out. I achieved this by adjusting the ISO and shutter speed between shots. In Photoshop I stacked the images and used masking to combine the best parts of both exposures. It is a bit of a trick, and I admit I feel somewhat guilty for doing it.

This method is widely used. Photographers often take many exposures of the sky to reduce noise, along with separate exposures for the landscape and the stars. The images are then aligned and processed in Photoshop to create a polished final photograph. The Milky Way can really pop when this technique is used.

However, this approach isn’t really for me—not because I believe there is anything wrong with it, but because it requires more concentration and planning than I enjoy when I’m out photographing. I prefer to roam around with my camera, capturing single shots as I go.

There are also many photographers now using AI in astrophotography. For me, these images are usually easy to spot and make up a large portion of astrophotography found online. They can be striking, and again, there is nothing inherently wrong with these methods. I know of several landscape photographers who place the Milky Way above well-known mountains in directions where the Milky Way never actually appears. The images sell well for them—and why not?

Perhaps it is because I grew up in a newspaper shop that my instinct with photography is to document. I try to make the best photograph I can with the equipment I have, paying attention to composition, colour, and the rule of thirds. But in the end, what I am really trying to capture is a place, a moment in time, and an attitude—something that may not exist in quite the same way in the years ahead.

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

Willow with her winter coat. February 2026.

The Big Little Dog.

Tracking.

Summer coat.

The Line Up

There is a line up of planets worth taking a look for. I knew it would be very unlikely to see them from our spot on Earth. The mountains get in the way and it would be light. Still you won’t see them if you don’t try. I was hoping to get Venus, Mercury and Saturn in one shot. Unfortunately I was only able to see Saturn in the twilight with Venus and Mercury already below the mountains. I might give it another try tomorrow. I did get a good look at the waxing moon, Orion and Jupiter. Very bright twinkling Sirius, reminded me of Willow absent on this walk above the river with the geese honking below.

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.