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.

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.

Photo Project

Radium Hot Springs Pool, Circa 1920, A.E. Fisher.

I have started on a project I have been wanting to do for some time. My parents left me a large collection of historical photographs, most dating from the 1920s and 1930s. All of the images exist only as negatives, with no printed positives, which makes it difficult to assess their quality or even know exactly what they depict. Until they are digitized, much of the collection remains effectively hidden.

The photographs are from various photographers, but many are attributed to A.E. Fisher, one of the first photographers in the area. The negatives measure 3.25 by 5.5 inches and contain exceptional detail. Many are beautiful images of the region and its people from a time before the area was widely populated. Included in the collection are approximately 110 negatives of First Nation people.

I have worked with these First Nation negatives in the past to ensure the Ktunaxa Nation received digital copies for their archives. Many of these images are both striking and historically important, documenting a period for which relatively few photographs exist.

One of the main reasons I put this project off for so long was the amount of time required to digitize the collection. Using a flatbed scanner, each transparency scan takes a significant amount of time, followed by additional processing of the digital file. To speed things up, I developed a more efficient workflow by photographing each negative on a light box using a digital camera. The files are then cropped and reversed into positives in Photoshop, where I also make minor corrections. The images are then downsized and imported into Lightroom, which provides robust library and archiving tools. At this stage, descriptions and keywords are added to make the images easily searchable.

The resulting files are not necessarily intended for high-end printing—although decent prints could certainly be made—but rather to create a practical, accessible archive for future use. Once digitized, the original negatives are filed and labeled with corresponding file names. If a high quality large print was needed the original negative could be accessed and scanned.

Each negative now has an associated digital file that can be searched on a computer and includes information such as photographer, location, and subject matter. This allows the images to be used for research, storytelling, and printing while protecting the original negatives from further handling and deterioration.

It is a large and time-consuming project, but a worthwhile one. Already, I have uncovered photographs that are both fascinating and historically significant—images that may otherwise have remained unseen.

Lake Windermere, Circa 1920, A.E. Fisher.
This shows the east side of Lake Windermere before development.

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.

On Thin Ice

Fresh ice under a waxing gibbous November moon.

A thin layer of ice formed on Lake Windermere in the last couple days of November. Very late compared to years past. Since I usually skate on the lake in November, and wasn’t able to due to the thin ice, I took the opportunity to get in a final swim. More of a dunk actually.

I creeped out on the ice until it cracked and I went through. I had an axe with me to chop my way to shore if needed. Willow wasn’t happy with my choices. Even she knows thin ice can’t be trusted. Lisa took the photo and told me explicitly beforehand not to expect her to save me.

***

The good neighbour was having vehicle trouble and broke down a few miles from home. He asked if I’d give him a ride and help him get it going.

A little tinkering and we got it going. It sounded like shit. Which isn’t totally unusual as the good neighbour has always driven beaters. He usually got them through a trade of one sort or another. At one time he would drive them until they died and then leave them in his yard. I guess his thought was he may get them going again. Then he would start filling them up with other stuff that wasn’t working, but he might get going again. Kitchen appliances, screen printing equipment, even big stuff that made you wonder how he got it too fit. He had a 60 inch TV in one of them. He called them his treasures and reminded me he’s never had a car payment.

Once we had his car going and we let it idle for a while I followed him home to make sure it didn’t break down again.

He says he has some travelling to do over Christmas so he is going to have someone look over the vehicle.

A few days later he texted me and said Grant took a look at it and it still starts. Grant is one of his drinking buddies and is a retired grocer. I, as well, have drank with Grant and if there is something I know it’s that he is not mechanically inclined.

I texted back, ‘You had Grant the grocer diagnose your vehicle? Most people in the same situation employ a mechanic.’

He texted back, ‘That’s a little harsh. If I only had your looks.’

There you have it. The good neighbours vehicle has been given a clean bill of health by Grant the grocer and he is set to take it on his Christmas tour all over British Columbia in the dead of winter.

As long as it rolls out of his driveway he is good to go.

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!”

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.

An enlargement of the top photo. Due to moonlight, even blown up, Comet Lemmon is hard to spot.

Comet Hunting

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.

Dysfunction

No chance to see Comet Lemmon this morning through the cloud and snow.

Some big juicy flakes fell but didn’t amount to more than a skiff. Still nice to see.

***

This year while working as a manager I had the misfortune of dealing with quite a few troubled workers. There is more and more people racked with anxiety every year. Mostly young Canadians who didn’t make it through the Covid lockdowns unscathed. It is a shame to see. It makes you wonder how they are going to make it.

But the worst was a 50-some-year-old alcoholic. Drinking on the job, late, cranky, emotional, miserable, complaining, missing days, injury prone, sloppy, hungover, driving drunk, fucking up and lying at every turn. He also has done a turn for beating his kid, wife and mother. All despite a three month stretch in rehab paid for by the government. An absolute pain-in-the-ass to be around. A complete dysfunctional boozer!

Now I come from a long line of functional alcoholics. Guys who wake up and make it to work on time. Keep putting one foot in front of the other regardless of headache or sickness, putting in an honest days work usually for themselves, raising their hands first for the tough jobs, keeping their mouth shut, they don’t drink until after the shift and laugh it off. Granted they are not easy to live with and they’re their own worst enemy, but they don’t fuck up at work. Guys like this are a dying breed as we all become a bunch of snivelling whiners.

I felt like grabbing this worker, smacking the shit out of him and teaching him how to be a goddamn man. Of course that would have been a trip to HR. It made me more angry that he couldn’t handle the booze than what a complete fuck-up he was at work. Hopefully the government will spring for another session in rehab as some people just shouldn’t drink.

Luckily I didn’t have to deal with him long.

***

Palliser Pass

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Tag: writing