Bright Day

Lisa and I chased the moon this morning. Anticipating angles where it would set over Nelson. Willow seemed happiest. We didn’t quite get it perfect in the picture. Good enough.

We watched Cooper play a hockey game. He tried hard and got two goals. We were very proud. He was very happy.

***

The days are longer. The birds are reappearing. The sun felt good straight on the face today. Kelsie said, Something stinks, is that Dad? I always deny it.

***

It won’t be long and the garden will need turning over.

Looking Forward

A Hairy Woodpecker finds the bugs below the bark on a fir tree.

The birds are singing, pretending its spring. Can they be fooled along with the rest of us?

+8 today.

The lake has shed the snow. If it freezes hard we could get in some more skating. That would be nice, but unlikely.

February and March can be deceiving. Warm, wind and bitter cold. In November you know it’s coming. March should be better. The cold, like everything in nature, hangs in there putting up the biggest fight right at the end. Passionately holding onto what keeps slipping between the fingers.

Chilly

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is dsc_1171-pano.jpg — Colour in the sky. The Milky Way will start rising in the coming months, first parallel to the the valley bottom, slowly turning straight up and down. Six satellites can be seen in this photo. It’s tough to get a photo without them showing up.

It is not often the cold is too much for Willow and I. Perhaps it is that we aren’t used to it, it having been a mild winter.

We headed for the south end of the lake. It surprised me that it dipped to -31°c. I took a few pictures but wasn’t really into it, my hands freezing on the aluminum tripod legs. Willow whined when we stopped to take photos.

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is dsc_1166-pano.jpg — Looking back towards the lights of town. The curve of the shoreline is due to the Space-Time Warp continuum. Just kidding! It is caused by sewing multiple images together to form a panorama.

I spotted Comet E3 ZTF and took a photo, however not that interesting as I had to point the camera almost straight overhead. It would be nice to try to take a photo with the 200mm lens, but I would need a sky tracker.

A fog started to roll in hastening our departure. The last thing I wanted to do is depend on a compass to find our way off the lake.

A damn cold morning.

Mid January

An American Dipper on the muddy banks at the headwaters of the Columbia River.

It has warmed up in the past week, we have even had some soggy above freezing temperatures. I am still trying to get used to the new camera. I don’t shoot as quick as I could with the old Nikon. On our walk the other day I missed two coyotes passing on the trail in front of us, later I put the camera to my eye to capture two deer drinking water at the river, and before I could focus they were gone. The two Whitetail Deer would have made a good photo. Oh well.

The skies have been clouded over for the past month. Once they clear I will be giving the camera a go at capturing some star photos. With luck it would be nice to get a photo of Comet 2022 E3 ZTF. Even if it is not visible to the eye, it is possible the camera may pick it up.

The old Nixon place from across the river.

Mid December

Lake Windermere, it’s never been much for me to imagine a glacier running ridge to ridge.

A few cold nights coming on. I am building a rink for Cooper and Scarlett.

I have never built a backyard rink. No need because we live so close to the lake.

However, kids are not allowed to wander like they used to, plus it might be nice to watch the kids skate while I get supper ready.

The problem is the land isn’t level. There is going to be 10″ of ice on one side and an inch on the other.

Copper and Scarlett have a lot of energy. This will do them well.

Willow helps dragging the Christmas tree to Lisa’s delight.

Late October

Hurt my back this morning lacing up my boots. The good thing about getting old is you never have to say, ‘I’m out of shape,’ instead you just say, ‘I’m old.’

In the mountains the sun goes down and comes up a thousand times depending on where you are standing.

Willow and I headed behind Swansea to walk it off. We pushed to the upper reaches and stopped before the ridge. Willow was happy. The snow was fine on her feet. It was about -10°c and didn’t ball up. The sun felt good when we broke into it. The waning moon held steady in the blue sky.

Willow in her natural habitat, loving life.

This will be one of the last trips into the high country. Snow will start flying in earnest. The cold will take hold. Sure there are snowmobiles and ATV’s that can deliver me to where I want to go, but I’ve never liked the smell of gasoline and exhaust. . . nor do I like the noise, plus they all break down. I know that’s part of the fun if you like that, but it’s not for me. Willow concurs. When I can’t get there under my own power I’ll narrow my circle.

November can be the shits, low cloud, snow, wet and freezing temps. It’s the month the weather can’t make up it’s mind to shit or get off the pot. However, without fail, by the end of the month the lakes are frozen and the mountains are filled with snow.

Down in the valley bottom I finally got the garlic in. It’s late so I planted it a little deeper to keep it away from the cold. Not sure if this is a sound strategy. We will see come spring. The one thing I know about gardening; regardless of neglect life seems to flourish.

Planting a garden is saying a silent prayer.

down where the fish don’t bite

Whew! A quick week. The light on both ends of the day is expanding and coming on quick. Orion is still visible at night, but won’t be for long, washed away by the glare of spring.

People out walking here and there, holding hands, old and young, succumbing to the urge taking over deer and birds. The second is nature the first is love. That’s the way we like to think of it, one separate from the other.

I’m an old-timer living to an age once impossible by the majority of humankind’s existence. Nature hasn’t adjusted and given me, and others, much of a roadmap or purpose to living past the ripe age of 35.

My DNA is too damaged to pass on even if I could. Young ladies all look like flowers to me. Nothing to sing about, only admire. No tweet or bugle, no rubbing horns on dry branches. In 99.9% of the time humans existed men my age would have been 25 years dead and for good reason. Young men don’t start wars.

And that’s why I feel lucky. This my 57th spring. The wind in my beard. The mountains unchanged from the ice age, the river rolling, slowing, making noise only when the rest is tuned out, that’s something I’ve been taught, and the stars, the stars common with the old ancient man getting ready.

slippery

My nephew Christian warned me. He parked his truck, stepped out, slipped and slid under his parked truck. He was wearing poor shoes at the time, dress shoes. He said it happened fast. He spent some time pretending to tread water, looking for gripage to pull himself from under the vehicle.

This morning a truck pulling a trailer full of snowmobiles was in my gravel parking spot at work. I parked on the pavement. Shut off the vehicle. Took three steps, in good boots. Three confident, nobodies getting in my way steps, since it was the start of the day after all, light just breaking, when I hit on some smooth clear ice over the dark pavement, common, with above freezing temperatures during the day and below freezing at night

It was arse over tit. My shoulder hit first then my hip. A fresh Timmie’s coffee went sailing (this is the true tragedy of this story, if it was a beer I’m sure I wouldn’t have spilled a drop). I felt pretty good considering. Once inside the managers asked why I had snow on my toque. I said, because I didn’t have my skates on.

No harm done. Christian was right, it happens fast.

Boxing Day

A quiet Christmas with all of our families staying within their households. The foot of snow a few days earlier helped the spirit.

Lisa and I had a small turkey. It provided plenty of leftovers and broth for soup. The woodpile is holding up. I mix tamarack and fir, pine and birch, keeping the pitchy stuff for kindling.

It is hard to know when we will all be together again. I try not to think about it much. Having plenty to do keeps my mind off it.

***

The cloud is crushingly low, the backroads are blocked leading to heights above the din.

***

There is plenty of tourists, most from Alberta, skiing, staying, travelling, snowmobiling, dining, partying, defying the no travel recommendations. I don’t worry about them. They can’t be taught or reasoned with. They’re the reason I have a job, thank God.

***

A couple more days off and I’m going to enjoy them.

a Coating

A couple of Bald Eagles consider the weather in the Valley bottom.

Woke up this morning before light. It looked like it was raining. +4°c the thermometer said. Next I looked it was snowing giant flakes. It was wet regardless.

Before testing outside I made a batch of Huckleberry Preserves. The berries were from this summer when Lisa and I wondered the mountain side. I tasted a few of the frozen berries and was instantly transported back in time picking the ripe berries, feeding a few to Willow to ward off thirst and watching Lisa’s red hair, flipping this way and that, bent down, dodging horseflies, picking only the plumpest and ripest.

Up the pass the snow was deeper and not nearly as wet. Much more enjoyable. The clouds parted to show the long lost mountains, but only briefly, before filling in again obscuring the stars.

Still, the birds sang hidden like a soundtrack dedicated to earth in all it’s glory.

Very fine day.

Palliser Pass

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Tag: winter