Heartbreak

Yesterday was tough, hearing the news of the school shooting from Tumbler Ridge. In the coming days, there will be plenty of comments on why it happened. Most will not be helpful.

It is tough to comprehend the feelings the people of the small town must be experiencing. The whole of Canada is in mourning for the families touched by this tragedy.

When I was young, I feared many things. Somehow, though, I believed I had a measure of control over those fears. I could outrun them, outthink them, or at least convince myself they were manageable.

I wonder what children think now, growing up in a world where news travels instantly to the palm of their hand. A phone can feed fear twenty-four hours a day. At certain ages, it is easy to focus only on the darkness and not yet understand that life bends back toward light. I suspect many young people feel powerless—not just over the world, but sometimes over their own thoughts and emotions.

If my grandchildren ask about this tragedy, what will I say? How do you promise safety in a world that offers no guarantees?

Lisa and I have tried to make our house a safe place for our grandkids—a place where they know they are loved unconditionally. We try to show them beauty in small things. They help me in the woodpile and the garden. Lisa shows them how to bake and keeps a huge supply of art supplies for any project. We have supper together at least two times a week, where we talk about our day. We want them to feel safe and to feel they have some control, maybe not over the threats of the world, but over how they approach them. All we can do is love them.

Last night, I went looking for stars and peace. It was after midnight but before the moon was up. I could hear the creek flowing under the ice. The mountains were in outline, and the familiar constellations were holding their own.

My mind eased if only momentarily. I stopped before the creek to make sure I didn’t break through the ice in the dark. There may never be true safety. You can only take it all in and know that good will offer a path. It may never be safe all the time, but the more often you look for good, the more often you will find it. Unfortunately there is no consolation for the people of Tumbler Ridge and the families suffering with heart breaking loss.

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.

Winter stars and Jupiter. The Beehive Cluster in the top left corner and the Pleiades Cluster in the top right corner.

White Christmas

Merry Christmas from Palliser Pass at the head of the Columbia River in British Columbia, Canada.

Ice-Out on Lake Windermere

Only a thin layer of ice remains on the south end of Lake Windermere. Looking close you can see the ice breaking up. The ice is about midway in the lakes 12 mile length.

Incredibly mild weather for December. +6°c, rain and a stiff south wind. The ice on about half of Lake Windermere has gone out. In the sixty, some odd, years I have been observing the lake I cannot remember it doing so in December.

The ice was late forming this winter with only a thin skim by the end of November. I am usually skating on the lake by the end of November. This year I went for a swim instead.

Standing at the north end of the Lake near dark. The ice in the foreground has been blown to the shore.

In the early 2000’s, when I was with the newspaper, I can remember writing an editorial mid December to be careful on the lake ice as it could be unsafe. It had been mild that year. The point of the article was to warn tourists and second home owners to be mindful as they may have been used to driving on it in December. The way it looks this year the tourists and vacation home owners could be putting their jet boats back in for the Christmas holidays.

The lake in winter has always been a special place for me. Skating, skiing, driving and fishing. There is nothing like being out there in the cold and quiet. Whenever I have had to endure pain I’ve always thought of the lake and the silent white surroundings while standing in the middle to get me through. It is what I imagine heaven to look like. It truly is a remarkable place.

We are expecting more warm weather. If so I can only guess the rest of the ice will break up and flow down the Columbia.

If my old friend Ray was still alive, he passed a few years ago at 103, I’d ask him if he’d ever seen this before. I would bet he would say no and be equally surprised. As I’m sure my Dad would have been. Christ, I’m an old-timer now and I’ve never seen Lake Windermere open in December.

A Cold Warm

Rain in the valley bottom. I was sure the lake was going to go back out. It hung in there but the ice is thin.

Lisa and I headed into the mountains yesterday. when we started heading up the rain turned to snow and covered the trees and turned it into a winter wonderland. Willow chased snowballs and looked a little like a snowball herself.

Today I went back up and the snow had turned back to rain. The snow covered trees had shed their layer of white. It was foggy as temperatures adjusted. It has been a very mild winter so far.

We headed for the lake and ran into a flock of waxwings looking happy. Somewhere along the way Willow decided to roll in what I believe was goose shit. The warm weather has revealed smells for her to discover.

Back when I was a kid if our dog rolled in something they weren’t allowed in the house. They had to stay outside day and night until they were deemed fit to come back inside. I mentioned this to Lisa but she didn’t think this would be fair to Willow. Instead she said I should give her a bath and told me Willow’s shampoo is in the left drawer of the bathroom cabinet.

The bathroom cabinet is under the sink. It has 2 drawers and 3 cupboards. I realized then, as it had never occurred to me, Willow and I share one small drawer in the bathroom. Shampoo, tick repellant, cider vinegar for skunk smell and a couple razors. The rest of the cabinet is for Lisa’s stuff. I mentioned this to her and she said, you two are low maintenance.

It’s bound to get cold sometime. I wish it would hurry up. This mild wet weather always makes a body feel cold. A warm cold.

Late November

A little colder as of late, but overall, a mild month. The lake is still open and it doesn’t look like I am going to get my usual skate in before the end of November.

The ground hasn’t been frozen until last week. The garlic has had a couple extra weeks to establish. I don’t know if that is good or bad. We shall see.

Up behind the mountain today. Only a couple of inches of snow, none in the valley bottom. I cut a few cedar boughs along the creek for Christmas decorations. Lisa makes wonderful wreaths.

***

A week ago I saw three very large Bighorn rams in Radium. A few days later I went back looking for them. I found two, the third, the biggest was nowhere to be found. While I took a few photos a young woman stopped to look as well. She said it was reported the largest one was hit on the highway.

Full curl. Those horns have seen some action.

Incredible considering there are fences, speed signs and even an animal overpass. The woman was from the United States and said she couldn’t believe how fast everyone drives around here. She was referring to the highway through the Kootenay National Park. I told her those are people from Alberta in a hurry to get out here and have fun. I told her Albertans are Canada’s Texans. She laughed and seemed to understand immediately.

Now, before anybody gives me shit for that comment, I realize we have our own share of yahoos in British Columbia. I could well imagine residents of small towns three hours from Vancouver probably hate being taken over by people trying to escape the city.

Regardless of jest, considering all of the precautions in place and provincial money spent, it’s a shame to see Bighorns being killed on the roads.

***

Saw a large heard of elk on the side of Swansea. The bulls kept hidden.

Kale still putting out in late November. No wonder Kaleman is so tough.

Carrot Girl

As most folks in the valley know, the Birchman has been wandering these woods for ages. He’s the quiet sentinel who startles anyone foolish enough to scar the land. Legend claims he rose from the ashes of a colossal forest fire, and let’s just say—you don’t want to end up on his bad side.

This year, though, a new hero sprouted onto the scene: Kaleman. Kale is a super-green, and Kaleman is—naturally—a super man powered by it, devoted to making sure everyone gets their daily dose of vegetables.

My granddaughter Scarlett knows these characters well. She also happens to be the unrivaled champion of spotting the biggest, sweetest carrots in the garden.

At some point she decided the Birchman and Kaleman might need backup. And so, Carrot Girl was born. She’s bold, unafraid of a little dirt, and blessed with extraordinary eyesight—useful, since Birchman and Kaleman’s vision seems to fade a little more each day.

Scarlett used an AI program to create the movie poster above, which is rather delightful. After a few experiments and nips and tucks, she looked at it proudly and announced, “Now this is a movie I’d watch!”

CME

Clouds catching last nights auroras make for an unsettling sky.

The sun has been very active with many coronal holes or sunspots stretched across its equator.

Several of these coronal mass ejections hit earths magnetosphere last night, causing aurora that could be seen into the southern United States.

Here it was cloudy but it is always worth a look. Willow and I took off for the creek and followed it around to the backside of the mountain. We walked to the bottom of Lisa’s trees.

It had rained, and was muddy and slippery hoovering around freezing. The cloud covered sky was odd looking, bruised in places, glowing here and there. I could tell something was going on above the clouds. We walked around, Willow seemed equally taken back not making a peep. We waited around peering above the trees until I was sufficiently damp and cold.

Today, the truck is covered in mud, especially where Willow sits. She is close to the ground and acts like a shaggy mop head in such weather. Reports say it was a fantastic display of Aurora, seen as far south as Florida. Tonight could be the same. It is still cloudy without promise of letting up. Willow and I will probably stay in close to the fireplace.

Fading

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.

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.

Palliser Pass

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Tag: nature