A few months ago, my sister Deb was contacted by a teacher in Liphook, England, seeking information about our grandfather and father, both of whom were born there. The teacher’s class is researching soldiers from Liphook who immigrated to Canada and served in the First and Second World Wars.
What a treat to hear back from the teacher with a write up about the research and the presentation given to the Royal Highness the Princess Royal.
***
Dapper
Ernest (Dapper) Ede came to Canada in 1912. He enlisted with the Canadian Army’s Fifty-Fourth Battalion in World War One and was wounded in Passchendaele. This landed him an extended time in hospital in England. During this time he married a nurse named Winnifred, our grandmother. They returned to Canada in 1923 to homestead in Windermere, British Columbia. Dapper died in 1972.
Ron
Ronald Ede was born in England in 1923 and arrived in Canada a few months later. At 17 he enlisted, becoming a member of the elite First Special Service Corps – the Devil’s Brigade. During World War Two he met Isabelle and they were married shortly there after and before being shipped overseas. After the war Ronald became a Linotype operator and worked for The Hamilton Spector and The Calgary Herald before returning to Windermere to manage and eventually own, along with Isabelle, The Lake Windermere Valley Echo. Dad died in Invermere in 2003.
***
Dapper and Ron would have been so proud to have been included in the presentation given by the students of Liphook C.of.E Junior School. Our heartfelt thanks to teacher Jenny Brown for such a special gift of Remembrance.
This is the link to the article that also includes photos and a video.
Comet Lemmon, you are going to have to take my word for it!
C/2025 A6 (Lemmon) is quickly fading from view. Since it was clear Willow and I thought we would give it one more go to spot it.
This time I took my 20mm wide angle lens knowing that if the comet could be seen it would appear very small in the photos. This is the lens I am most comfortable using for night photography because it gives such a large view of the sky. It also allows me longer exposures before the stars streak.
The sun went down and the full moon came up behind us. It dipped quickly to -4°c, which felt chilly. I am going to have to toughen up if I plan on making it through winter. We walked around where Slinky and Ara are buried. It is truly a beautiful spot. As the sky turned blue and darkened we spotted flashes of white as we jumped several White Tailed Deer. They were quick not to stick around. It reminded me of hunting with Dad. Seeing the best game when it was too dark to shoot. Both because you couldn’t see the far sight on the rifle, and more importantly, it’s against regulations.
The full moon illuminated the mountainside. Only the brightest stars could be seen. Of course, the moon also washed away the comet. Still I had faith and pointed the camera in the general direction of where it should be.
Moonlit night.
Both Willow and I were glad to get back to the warmth of the truck. We picked our way along the back rounds, through frozen puddles, staying the best we could above the ruts. Such a pleasure in my life to putter along old and overgrown roads. I used to do it with a beer in my right hand, now it’s a coffee if anything. We stopped at the lake. It was calm and the moonlight reflected the mountains. I listened for fish jumping. Willow heard something and gave a bark. Her echo barked back at her and then the barking match was on. Willow looked at me seriously, ‘there is another dog out here’.
Time to head back to the valley bottom and the warmth of bed.
An enlargement of the top photo. Due to moonlight, even blown up, Comet Lemmon is hard to spot.
Tried to peek through the clouds to get a glimpse at Comet Lemmon. It hasn’t been easy with clouds rolling in just as it’s been getting dark, however thought I’d give it a try regardless. You’ll never catch fish if you don’t put your line in the water.
As the clouds parted I was able to easily see the comets nucleus. In the photo you can even see it reflected in the river. The tail was harder to see. The camera picked it up nicely even amongst the light pollution of the Village of Radium Hot Springs.
Just a word about light pollution; it was interesting to have been in Waterton recently and saw how they have tried to limit light pollution. They are part of a dark sky reserve and it is important to them. In the Windermere Valley light pollution gets brought up occasionally but never gets much traction. The only way it ever will is by showing decision makers that there is some profit in shining lights down. That is a tough sell in a valley growing as fast as this one.
Speaking of pollution, notice the ‘scratches’ in the sky around Comet Lemmon. These are Starlink satellites. It is amazing and annoying how many are in low orbit around the earth. It is almost impossible to look into a darkened sky without seeing them now. This is only going to get worse as Starlink continues to launch thousands more and other countries and companies begin to launch their own version of Starlink.
Without regulations or common sense it may become impossible, in the future, to enjoy the stars, meteor showers and visiting comets, as the night sky fills with streaking satellites. Humans should be ashamed of polluting the atmosphere, oceans, water and land, instead of giving it a second thought, however, we have moved onto corrupting the space and stars above us.
I would still like to get a better look at Comet Lemmon, but my chances are limited as it gets closer to the sun and our weather fails to improve.
Comet Lemmon (upper left) seemingly following the same trajectory as a satellite.
Nice brisk morning at -6°c. Willow and I went out at about 5:30. It was just starting to lighten around the mountains in the east. The waning moon was bright to the southeast. I pointed the camera in the direction of where Comet Lemmon should be located as I wasn’t able to spot it with my naked eye. Later when I was home I was able to easily locate it on the downloaded photos. Now that I know where to look it will be easy to spot next time out. And it should get brighter!
Just a reminder to step outside and try to spot Comet Lemmon, now brightening in northern skies. It may not reach the brilliance of Comet NEOWISE—seen here in 2020—but with comets, you never really know how bright they’ll become.
It’s finally starting to have a chill in the air. I found a home for most of my giant red cabbage. Sophie from Sophie’s Choice Pickles took it to make fermented sauerkraut. Her pickles are incredible and she sells out every year.
***
The good neighbour Larry has been enjoying the carrots. I left a bag of them on his doorstep the other day. I didn’t stay to talk as I was in a hurry and figured he’d find them as soon as he came out the door. They are Chantenay carrots. If you know your carrot varieties you know Chantenay have short thick tapered bodies.
Later that day a friend stopped by who is quite religious. I behave myself in his company. As we talked outside, Larry came out and found the carrots. He grabbed them by the stems and walked to the edge of his property, celebrating the gift raised high, yelled across the road, ‘Thanks for the buttplugs!’
I looked to my pious friend and sheepishly said, ‘They are carrots.’
But I couldn’t resist an answer to my good neighbour as he expects it from me, and yelled back across the road, ‘They are various sizes so you can work your way up!’
He didn’t miss a beat and yelled back, ‘I’m no amateur!’
***
If it clears a little, Willow and I may head out tomorrow morning to look for Comet Lemmon in the coming dawn. Hard to know if it will clear however as some are calling for snow.
It seems every summer takes a little more out of us. It has been a zoo. This year has been especially trying, balancing work and life. It came down to not much life and a lot of work.
We haven’t had a frost yet. I remember having frost on occasion at the end of August. Those days are gone I suppose. There is kale, cabbage and carrots left in the garden. Even a few tomatoes.
I am looking forward to short days and a chill. We have plenty of wood. The freezer has some meat, a couple of pies and plenty of huckleberries to remind us of the best of summer, playing on the mountain side, away from the ruck of the crowded valley bottom, picking berries and watching the dogs munching them right off the bushes.
A stunning night sky filled with stars over Waterton, showcasing the Milky Way above the illuminated village.
The Prince of Wales Hotel.
Thirty-nine years ago we visited Waterton Park on our honeymoon. The Prince of Wales Hotel looked abandoned. I took a few pictures with the 2.25 Yashica. Once I developed the B/W film all the negatives were blurry from the wind. The negatives were also bad because the film was expired. I didn’t print any of them.
Mt. Vimy between the Lakes of Waterton.
This time the pictures turned out better. The Hotel was a lot more expensive. We even got out under the stars for a wander around.
The Milky Way on a backroad away from light pollution. Waterton Park is known for dark skies.
The wind still howls at The Prince of Wales. The skies are dark in Waterton. A piece of The Milky Way is still bright before midnight.
A scenic view of wind turbines standing tall against a clear blue sky. These are prominent at the start of the mountains where the wind blows continually.
It was nice to get away even for a short time to celebrate our anniversary.
The moon, Venus and Regulus at 6am shot through a 200mm lens handheld.
A magnificent sight this morning with the waning crescent moon beside Venus and Regulus.
A few things to consider:
The moon is about 385,000 kms away from earth. It takes 29.5 days to orbit earth. Amazingly the same time it takes to complete a rotation or day.
Venus is close to the same size as Earth. It is the second plant from the sun. Earth is the third.
Both the moon and Venus have been observed through history and have important cultural significance to humanity.
Regulus is part of the constellation Leo. It is 79 light years away from us. It is actually four stars in a star system. The largest of the four is four times larger than our sun. It is a dominant star in the night sky.
I could go on with more facts. The point is, we know all of this from observation. I consider this fantastic. Think of the speed, time, math, angles and experimentation needed to prove what we now take as fact. It has been figured out by people like us (smarter than me I concede). Of course, it has taken generations. Something is learned and it gets added to, and so on. It is amazing to me.
It also shows what humanity is capable of when we collectively work together. Of course it takes time.
Most of the time on this blog I speak of the spiritual importance of nature. There is something I do in my head; I use the word nature and science interchangeably. I mentioned this to a teacher in high school long ago and was told how wrong I was. I took his word, but didn’t change my mind. I know I don’t understand either. Somehow that gives me peace. The same way watching wild orchids appear shortly after the snow melts or watching The Milky Way reappear, rising sideways in the east, curving above the Rocky Mountain Trench. I get the same feeling considering distance and time working out the trip in light speed to Betelgeuse or The Andromeda Galaxy.
I will leave this earth without contributing to the great pool of knowledge needed for the next great discovery. But shouldn’t the wonderful discoveries we already have be honoured. Shouldn’t that be enough to inspire us to do our best and treat our fellow humans with kindness and respect. It is not a jump from marvelling the brilliance of Regulus to loving your family or even pointing out the moon or sharing a mountaintop to someone interested.
Breaking through the trees for the first sight of the lake.
It was good to leave the valley where everyone is trying to separate tourists from their money. It is a scourge, troubling watching the lake and town gasp at it descends into overconsumption.
We were off into the mountains to a place my father and I hiked until his legs ached. I didn’t then but I appreciate it now. He let me go following the dry creek runoff all leading up.
Dave and I hadn’t hiked together for awhile. My fault as work has consumed me the past two years.
Once we turned towards the Palliser, the people were gone. The trail head was deserted. I slipped off a boulder at the creek crossing and had one wet foot that lasted the hike. Certainly not as sure footed as I once was.
The trail hasn’t seen much use.
The old skid trail was overgrown. We both carried bear spray. We remarked at the amount of bear sign. Dad used to attach bells to me a long time ago. I also carried granddads 30 30 rifle so often dad said I had one arm longer than the other.
The trail gained elevation through the alders and skunk cabbage. It has been wet and Dave stopped to take pictures of various plants and mushrooms. The spruce had new dark blue pitch covered cones at their tops. The nuthatches and grosbeaks will be plentiful come November.
A Rocky Mountain peak rising above the trail.
Strata once layered horizontally, under a sea of prehistoric shell fish, is pushed vertical in the highest spots. Millions of years work which we can’t fathom, thinking a lifetime is a long time. That these mountains don’t consider us is peaceful. We are of little significance in the hands of time. Even our damage will one day be undone the same as the trail we followed was grown over and hard to follow.
Mountain asters blooming and abundant along the trail and slides.
Once off the rise we stopped for a bite. I scoped the old trail across the slides north for grizzlies and moose. The trail we were on was much better than the one my father and I followed.
The remaining trail was flat with only a few deadfalls across the trail. The lake was right where we left it. It still takes my breath away as we clamoured out of the spruce and soft footing onto its rocky shore.
Cow moose yields the trail for a swim.
The slides on all sides of the lake were overgrown. On rounding a corner a large brown hump appeared. I started reaching for the bear spray and realized it was a cow moose. A moose can be as dangerous if it decides to charge. Since we had no where to go we took a few pictures before it turned our way and trotted not fifteen feet from us into a small pond leading to the lake. A fine encounter.
Tadpoles swimming in the shallow pools.
We found a flat rock to have another bite and look around. I took some directions measuring where the stars would align during the night at this time of year. Dave pointed out thousands of tadpoles swimming the shallows. Fish jumped in the middle and around the shores. I had caught some big fish here long ago. I found the old camping spot completely grown over.
Dave picks his way over the trail roughed up with bear sign.
After lunch we picked up the trail and headed above the lake to get a good look at the emerald water. We stopped as long as we could before we turned to follow the trail back as we were due back at the bottom three valleys over.
When ever I leave this place, even when I was a boy, I always wondered when or if I would ever see it again. To be here on this tiny sliver of time sharing the earth with these large spruce, rocks, flowing water and animals is a gift.
Each day has had a little rain. Plenty of blue sky between. Cool at nights. Almost a perfect summer compared to what we have had the past few years.
The berries are raging on into August. Lisa and I could get used to this time off wondering the mountains with the grandkids. Picking our fill to take home. They are proud and, of course, turned it into a competition with Scarlett and me picking against Copper and Grandma. Luckily it is evenly matched.
It is good to be up there sharing the sky and tree tops, watching for wild flowers and hummingbirds, pointing out the big berries, showing them how to plink, plink at tins, wishing time could stand still or at least slow down.
Palliser Pass 