The moon and Venus looked great today next to each other in the morning sky. I have read the moon occulted Venus in the Southern Hemisphere. That would have been something to see. I was off to work before it got lighter which may have made for a better photo. Regardless, the clouds rolled in as dawn advanced.
Lisa popped out this morning when she saw a few Bohemian Waxwings feasting on the frozen berries. These birds will gather in large flocks and strip the trees of berries in no time, even getting drunk on the fermented fruit. It’s something to see!
The dorgs, Willow, Lola, and I headed behind the mountains where the creek runs dry this time of year.
The snow started low and fell heavy further up, big juicy flakes. We met a couple of mushroom pickers. They were discouraged. I told them I saw plenty of shaggy manes down below. They were after portabella and chicken mushrooms. Once the snow melts they will be out.
Good to be out, running the muddy roads before they are frozen, facing skyward catching snow and spitting it out, watching dogs twist, chasing their tails, while the mountain pulses in silence.
The roar can be deafening, misty and slippery. To find yourself in such a place is luck. When unfortunate things happen its bad luck. We take credit for the good things, giving ourselves credit, we say, manifesting our destiny. It is luck one way or the other.
That doesn’t mean you don’t put on good shoes when you tackle the canyon or climb the rocks. It ain’t all up to destiny. You have to give yourself the best chance and except whatever is coming.
Darker mornings. Cooler and it feels good. Been rearranging the wood pile to make sure last years wood gets burned first.
Good to get out mid week and walk up the mountains.
There is still a lot of tourists doing dumb things. Lisa and I ran into a bunch today. They can’t help it. They have been told they can’t do the things they have been doing for years due to Covid, and the recent forest fires.
It is a free for all now. Just look at the news.
Tourists, especially from Alberta, have taken a stand and, damned and determined, hell or high-water, regardless of right or wrong are going to do as they damn well please. They have been held back long enough. Unfortunately, they exercise it on vacation.
I mention Alberta, but it’s the same everywhere in cities. Too many people too close to each other with the only thing in common is buying shit.
If you live here you see it. Even the part time workers can’t wait to get away come September.
It’s a different world. One where you can’t believe the news, reliable sources have become sketchy pushing an agenda.
Everyone has bought in, taking from what they want to believe. Forgetting there is only one truth and importance, helping.
A Perseid streaks above the trees to the left of the falls.
After an evening nap Willow and I headed for the bush. We got out walked here and there, getting our bearings. It’s been awhile since we have been out at night looking skyward.
We were lucky to see several Perseid Meteors. Lucky as well to get a few pics.
Perseus, The Andromeda Galaxy and Cassiopea. The meteors didn’t cooperate for this photo. If I had’ve slipped into that creek Willow would have ran through bush and thicket down the mountain, following me to the Columbia River.
It was clear and the moon, waning into a thin crescent, stayed down until mid morning.
Hounds Tooth, The Milky Way and a bright Perseid.
We saw deer, an owl, porcupine and rabbits. Luckily Willow didn’t see the porcupines.
The second picture of the night captured a long Perseid Meteor.
I can’t see in the dark like I used to. If I was younger I’d give tonight another go. I don’t think last night was the peak.
We were out of the mountains and at work on time at 5:30 am. Willow slept in the truck.
I’ve made a terrible mistake. In the spring when the grasshoppers were eating the garden I started planting things that they didn’t seem interested in. They ate every carrot so I didn’t replant them figuring it was pointless. The grasshoppers left the small zucchini plants alone. So I planted more of them. Now I am overrun with yellow, green and patty pan zucchinis.
It has become impossible to manage. I can’t give them away. A small one today is a wooper tomorrow. I’ve made a terrible mistake!
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The skies cleared last night. It’s the first time in weeks the mountains have made an appearance. It lifted everyones mood.
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It is busy at the resort. Everyone is frazzled. Moral is good. It is an amazing bunch of workers. Most are young adults from throughout the country. They are expected to work hard and without exception they all put in a full shift.
I have worked in places, including the government, that that wasn’t the case, and the people there were getting paid twice what these kids make.
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A coworker showed me a photo they took of four woodpeckers in the same tree. Two woodpeckers in the same tree means a cold winter.
Wasps, this year, have been building nests under ground, that means a cold winter.
My good friend Scotty from the Secwe̓pemc First Nation used to say, it will be a cold winter because the white man has a big woodpile. Damn, we used to laugh.
Shit! My woodpile is over flowing.
It could be a cold winter.
Scotty, if you are listening, kick me in the nuts and take the duck!
Lisa and I headed out early to avoid the ruck. The town put on Valley Appreciation Day. It used to be called Visitor Appreciation Day. Before that it was called Alberta Appreciation Days. Alberta tourists/2nd home owners, making up the majority of visitors to the Columbia Valley. Regardless of the name it is a good day to get the fuck out of the valley bottom.
The huckleberries are under there somewhere.
We took to the mountains in search of huckleberries. We had success. The huckleberries were out and small. We stumbled onto a few good patches to fill our buckets.
Willow rustled rodents. Her tongue swollen and panting. She is a good dog. Lisa says I have to mind her better as she is getting old. I don’t have the heart to shut down her fun even if it’s for her own good.
Getting a swim in the creek. Perfect to cool off.
Lisa kept picking after I reached my limit. We creeped down the mountain in the afternoon, knowing town would be clear, cautious never the less.
We call it smoke but it’s smog and we better get used to it.
Turning.
Up early. Tough week. I let my temper get the better of me a couple times. Luckily I am only caustic with my tongue, not like before.
It would be easy to say they got what they deserved. Tourists, rich, entitled, put in their place. But it makes me sad. So it can’t be good. I used to love putting a bully in his place. Punching up has hurt my family immeasurably. I am a fool not to go along. Look how good the people who punch down do.
The garden is up. Plenty of smoke on the horizon and on the water, early morning. The spuds could be ready, who knows for sure, the grasshoppers have eaten the blossoms.
Even Willow was powerless against the grasshoppers.
The garden is doing it’s best after being ravaged by grasshoppers. The grasshoppers are still around in abundance but not eating as much as when they were small. When we have vegetables from the garden for dinner I remark my thankfulness that the grasshoppers were kind enough to leave it for us. They were ravenous bastards.
No carrots this year. Almost everything had to be replanted. Strangely they didn’t like peas, which are about 6 feet tall and covered in pods. The tomatoes, they mostly left alone. Same as the zucchini. Everything else was at their mercy.
The cannabis is coming and I’m about to trick it into thinking it’s dying so it will flower. The grasshoppers ate it as well, but it fought back on its own. The grasshoppers who indulged were last seen, wearing dark glasses, listening to jazz, riding vans, driven by a ladybug, down to SF, Haight Ashbury, to find themselves. I’m happy I could, at least, convert a few. The stoned grasshoppers remaining are degenerates, happy to listen to Led Zeppelin overflowing from the gardeners earbuds. They are hard to motivate, but great to have a conversation with once you get them going, unfortunately they still like to snack.
We will miss the carrots. I planted zucchini in many of spots in the garden that the grasshoppers destroyed. We are going to have ‘chini coming out our ears. I won’t be able to give them away. My friends will see me coming and scatter.
Lisa and I were up early and heading for the bush to miss the tourists and second home owners, who are out in force.
Once we made the corner after the first bridge on the Kootenay we were free and never saw a soul, except the most important, a black bear, a murder of crows circling something dead, plenty of deer, bucks in velvet, a shiny muskrat and birds singing songs, so beautiful, that I will never understand no matter how hard I try.
We picked up a load of wood. Tomorrow I will split it. It is birch so the sooner the better. It will keep us warm. Summer is when you should think of winter.
Picked a litter of lettuce in the garden. The grasshoppers have wings but aren’t eating like they were when they were small. As far as I can tell they don’t like peas or tomatoes. Everything else has taken a shit kicking.
We sure have a good country. I may bitch at the folks running it. The country and citizens are so strong even the politicians haven’t been able to screw it up. 🙂 Aboriginal people are seeing a future where injustices are acknowledged. There is no making things right. There is no returning justice. MY small spot on this land belonged to someone who didn’t agree to sell it to me.
Our future is dependant on immigration, that’s a good thing. The ideas and hard work coming from abroad will make us strong.
Whenever I meet someone wanting to make Canada their home I think of my Grandfather coming from England in 1912 looking for a better life.
I live in this time in history when immigrants made my life easy in my youth and will help me in my old age. How lucky is that?
Most of the creeks are still high. I followed a spring, out of nowhere, a hundred yards through a grove of birch, then disappeared underground to cripes knows where.
The country is alive and beautiful. I can’t contribute like I used to. I don’t expect much. That’s how it is when you are happy.
Somehow we have to grab rocks, but instead of throwing them, we have to lie down on them and feel the warmth.
Palliser Pass 