How High’s the Water, Mama?

The mouth of Lake Windermere. The brown water from Toby Creek can be seen backing up into the blue water of Lake Windermere. Picture taken on May 28th, 2026 before the rain started.

We have had a good dose of moisture starting about a week ago. It has been nice. The grass is knee deep. My plan was to mow it today, as the rain looked like it was going to stop, but overnight it started again.

Yesterday, I hilled the potatoes. Everything is up in the garden and enjoying the moisture. Once the sun shines, everything will take off.

These pictures were taken a week ago. They show the Columbia River leaving Lake Windermere. As often happens at this time of year, when the mountain snow melts and we get rain, the river flows backwards into the lake.

This is caused by Toby Creek backing up where it enters the Columbia about a mile to the north. The course of Toby Creek has been altered over the years to help prevent flooding in Athalmer. In the past, Toby Creek would rush out of the mountains and create an alluvial fan stretching from the mouth of Lake Windermere to well below where it enters the Columbia today.

Standing on the benches above Invermere and Athalmer, one can almost see where Toby Creek once spread out across the valley. It was in this area that salmon spawned before dams blocked their passage from the Pacific Ocean.

The Columbia River flowing backwards is a reminder that nature cannot be denied.

There have been several instances over the past decade when Invermere’s sewer system has struggled at this time of year. Panorama has also experienced problems with its wastewater system. Both systems discharge treated wastewater into Toby Creek.

A couple of years ago, I wrote to several District of Invermere officials expressing concern that untreated sewage could potentially flow into Lake Windermere when the river backs up. The fact that untreated sewage could enter a river is troubling enough. I specifically mentioned the possibility of it backing into Lake Windermere because the lake is viewed as central to the region’s tourism economy, and tourism appears to be what attracts the attention of local decision makers.

However, I received no response. Not a word. Other than what I viewed as an attempt by District of Invermere Council to assassinate my character and make my views illegitimate. https://palliserpass.ca/2023/06/17/mid-june-2/

We are blessed to live at the source of the Columbia River. Over the years, we have changed it to meet our needs. Many of those changes have been devastating to its natural flow, its native species, and the Indigenous peoples who relied on its life giving gifts for thousands of years.

Today, it sometimes seems our primary goal is simply to keep Lake Windermere clean enough to support tourism, large wake boats, and the second home market.

Instead, each of us who lives here should consider ourselves a guardian of the land. Of course, every one of us leaves a footprint, and every footprint has consequences. But why take more than we need?

Some things are more important than growth and convenience. The lakes and rivers that sustain us are among them.

Storm Clouds

The two starlings are quiet while they tend to their young in the nest. They are busy going back and forth. Starlings are almost never quiet, usually kicking up a fuss, but they are not taking any chances giving themselves away. The hole at the top of the tree is mostly covered now too, with the leaves fully out.

Lisa says she can hear the young ones, but I can’t. My ears have been plugged from a head cold. This morning I drove out of the mountains and the change in altitude really plugged them up. I stopped at a gas station and when I went in to pay, a woman started talking to me and I couldn’t hear a word she said. I just nodded along with, “Ya,” “Ah-huh,” “Oh ya,” “Ya.” She could have been telling me my fly was undone, or that I’d just won a prize. To top it off, I’d forgotten to put in my front teeth. Deaf without any bite. Oh well.

Up the pass the creeks were flowing muddy from the recent rains. Lola again was on loan. We found some yellow orchids, though they were not blooming yet. The Venus orchids were out in large patches and were even starting to die back.

I was very happy with the photo I snapped that leads this post. To think that this delicate plant lives all year beneath the moss and bark that make up the forest floor, then picks just the right time to bloom in such a magnificent show that only lasts a short while before disappearing almost undetectably for another year. They are sometimes called fairy orchids as they flutter just above the forest floor. It would be a shame not to celebrate them while we are here.

***

A month or so ago I was doing some work at a set of fancy condos overlooking the lake. I saw a guy walking by from the lakeshore, stopping here and there to look around. I thought he was lucky to be out for a walk, unhurried, with time to take in the sights looking back toward the lake.

Not long after he had passed, I felt eyes on me. Busy working, I looked over my shoulder and there was the same guy hiding behind a partition, videoing me.

Once spotted, he tried to hide better. I said, “Hold on, you look like you have some questions.”

He told me he was on the strata board and that he saw me putting hot tub water on the grass. I told him he didn’t see that because I wasn’t, not that it would have mattered much if I had — it probably would have done the grass good. I also told him it wasn’t a very good idea sneaking up on people. All in all, it was an okay but strange interaction.

A week ago I was back at the same condo complex. This time I heard a yell that made me jump.

“I told you not to put hot tub water on the grass!”

Again, I wasn’t. But this time I couldn’t see the guy. I knew it was the sneak from last time. He was somewhere above me on one of the balconies.

I said, “Come on down here.”

And he did.

I had been nice the first time. This time I wasn’t.

***

It sure is good riding the backroads. Here is a picture from coming off the mountain toward the storm clouds down in the valley bottom.

Searching

Everywhere we looked, animals were ducking for cover, which was essentially what we were doing. We got higher than we’d been since November. The clouds quickened. A rabbit jumped off the trail. Squirrels had left their cones shredded on the deadfalls. A small falcon tested the wind, curious enough to hang around and get a good look at us. Several light-coloured swifts flew like bullets through the timber. They must have an amazing navigation system. Thrushes, robins, and juncos scattered, disturbed by the two of us early on the trail.

And the quiet was wonderful, exactly what the ears needed.

We stopped below a rock bluff with a view north. The valley bottom was long gone. We could see storms forming above Baldy, sheets of misty rain rolling closer while the clouds directly overhead kept flowing north. A great collision, perhaps. Would the rain get through?

We spotted a large black bear below, near where we had come from. It was accompanied by a few crows and several grey jays perched on the top spikes of spruce and pine. We kept our eyes on them as they turned back down the mountain. We wished them peace, and for them to stay hidden, the same wish for ourselves.

The northern clouds won. Hail and snow started to fall. It wouldn’t last; it was spring after all, and blue sky was already showing through.

***

The other day I was cut off by a tourist in a shiny little sports car with all its windows tinted black. All the stuff I had on my seats ended up on the floor when I slammed on the brakes. If Willow had of been there she would have crashed into the dashboard, which she has done before on similar occasions.

I cursed, not at the driver, who had long sped off, but at this reminder that we are again on the verge of another busy tourist season.

Orchids

A couple of days ago, Lisa mentioned that the Calypso orchids should be blooming. I’m usually on top of these things, but I don’t get out into the bush as much anymore without Willow spurring me on.

Today I left the gardening behind and headed out to see how spring in the mountains was progressing. To make things even better, the kids lent me Lola to tag along.

Lola is a wonderful dog — well behaved, sweet, and kind. She’s recovering from an injury, so I have to keep her close, which is no problem at all. Although she’s a big dog and can look a little menacing, she is anything but.

This is how a conversation with Lola goes:

Chipmunk chirps somewhere off in the distance.

Lola: “Did you hear that?”

Me: “Yep.”

Lola: “What was it?”

Me: “Sounds like a chipmunk.”

Lola: (worried look) “Do you think it’s friendly?”

And this is how a conversation with little Willow went:

Willow: “Bark, growl, bark, growl, bark, bark, bark!”

Bear runs and climbs tree.

Willow: “Did you see that?”

Me: “Yes. You scared the bear up a tree.”

Willow: “It’s lucky I can’t climb trees, or I’d go up there and kick its ass.”

Then she’d scrape her paws on the ground like a bull getting ready to charge and puff out her chest like she ruled the mountains.

Lola and I did find some orchids growing on the soft, mossy forest floor. We even sat together and watched the sun rise above the mountains and warm our faces.

Two years ago, on May 10 and 11, we experienced an incredible solar storm. Lisa and I spent the night outside, and neither of us had ever seen anything like it. Auroras pulsed and waved in every direction and continued throughout the entire night.

This photo is from that unforgettable evening

A Kick in the Groyne

The Akisqnuk First Nation, which is part of the Ktunaxa Nation, has recently opposed a couple of projects regarding Lake Windermere.

The first was dredging a portion of the lake to create a boat marina at Thetheway Beach. Thetheway is a vacation home area in Windermere. The new boat docks would be for the exclusive use of Thetheway residents, most of whom are from Alberta.

The second is the refurbishment of a boat launch at Athalmer, located on District of Invermere property. At one time, the District considered buying a crane to expedite putting boats in the lake. That’s probably still coming.

The general consensus among many residents is that there are already too many jet, motor, and wake boats on Lake Windermere.

The Akisqnuk First Nation’s stance is that there is a state of lawlessness on and around Lake Windermere. Docks and boat launches are being built off the ever-growing number of lakeshore second homes. Buoys are being placed along the shores to moor motorboats. There is also the claiming of shoreline ownership by many second-home owners, even though land up to twelve feet above the high-water mark is designated as public. In addition, there has been the takeover of public rights-of-way to the lake by homeowners.

These homes along the shores of Lake Windermere are worth millions and are mostly owned by people from out of province who feel entitled to do as they please.

The District of Invermere is very much in favour of this takeover by vacationers of Lake Windermere, as they reason it brings money into the valley. Since the District’s mayor and councillors are made up of people who own businesses, I can understand why they would want to support the agenda of second homeowners as it puts money in the pockets of businesspeople, and they are, above all, who they represent.

Also on the agenda is the potential removal of the rock groyne at the mouth of the Columbia River at the north end of Lake Windermere. Every year, at least a few expensive motorboats are damaged when they run into it, even though it is clearly marked.

The groyne has been there since the 1800s, and it is unclear what its purpose was. It could have been to deepen the channel to make boat passage easier, or it may have been used for fishing when salmon spawned in the area. It may also have been built to prevent Toby Creek from changing the channel.

Regardless, boaters and the District want it gone.

I am glad the Akisqnuk First Nation has stepped in. Someone has to try to protect the lake from this kind of unchecked development.

Slow Release Rain

That’s as far as we are going up that road.

A good snow storm blew through. Lola and I were caught out digging Willow’s grave. Big flakes, heavy falling straight down, the mountains and valley bottom obscured. By the time it stopped there was about a foot where we were and a few inches in the garden. It will do everything good.

We got Willow’s name carved into a rock. She is going far off the trail. No-one will ever find her unless they know where to look. She would like that.

Crocuses before the snow hit.

The Crocuses are just coming out. I had expected them earlier considering our mild winter. The Osprey’s are back, also on time. The back roads are muddy as the frost comes out of the ground. This is the time I usually get stuck, pushing my luck along the mountain creeks trying to get back to November high. It’s easier when the frost is going into the backroads. Wet snow doesn’t help.

Lola is coming back from a pretty good injury, so her and I just poke about.

This guy will overlook Willow’s spot. She always gave this stump a bark then looked at me embarrassed. I wonder if he knows The Birchman.

Spring Zodiacal

Sirius, Orion, Jupiter and Pleiades caught in zodiacal light.

A pair of Flickers have been fighting with a couple of Starlings for a hole in the top of the poplar out our window. Whoever has the upper hand usually camps out side the hole keeping the competition away. Sometimes it’s the Flicker sometimes it’s the Starling. I know how it’s going to end, because I saw the same show last year. Neither species will use the hole to nest, both considering it too dangerous because of each other.

Lisa and I saw and heard a few Meadowlarks below Swansea. Such a song. We look forward to it each spring.

I dug the garden, loosening up the soil with a pitchfork. There were plenty of worms. The garlic is all up and it looks like we should have a good crop. We are still eating last years. The daffodils are also up, despite the fact I thought I had dug them out. The garden is ready for some seeds. Within the week I hope to poke in some carrots, peas, beets and lettuce. It’s early but they can handle the chill. By May 24th I’ll get the rest planted.

Venus, just above the horizon at dusk.

Watched the sun set and waited to see if the zodiacal light would appear. Orion is in the west close to setting at dusk. It will be washed out by light soon, only to reappear to signal the coming fall. Venus was bright right on the western horizon. Jupiter was above Orion and Gemini ruling the sky. Sure enough a triangular white glow appeared with Pleiades caught in the light. Very fine spring day.

Snow

About 8 inches of wet snow fell last night. The roads turned slick. We were due in Calgary, but decided to reschedule.

I have included another couple of pictures of the eclipse. I was happy to be able to capture some of the stars around the moon, usually impossible during a full moon as its shine drowns them out. Regulus can be seen above the moon and several stars from the constellation Leo.

***

I changed the oil and filters in my truck yesterday. I haven’t done that in a real long time. I usually take the truck down to Cranbrook an hour and a half down the road for service. People ask why I don’t get it serviced closer to home. The answer is: I’ve always done this. At one time I knew most of the mechanics in the valley and I didn’t want to dislike them. Mechanics are notorious for fucking up and it’s never their fault. Granted they have to keep up on ever changing technology and it can’t be easy. So I drive 150 km out of my way. That way if I’m pissed off at the quality of the work it is at a place out of sight and not at a mechanic I play hockey with on Sunday night, or see at the school picking up their kids.

Now, I have to admit, it probably cost me more to change it myself. First, I bought synthetic oil and a good quality filter.

Second, I had to make a trip to the hardware to buy a six point 15mm socket because the goddamn oil plug was in so tight. The wrenches I had were twelve point and I didn’t want to round off the plug, or I would have been going to the mechanic for a real big bill, and the mechanic would not have spared me from letting me know what a fool I was.

Third, I checked online to see where to take the old oil for recycling. The first place I took it wouldn’t take it, the second place said they stopped taking it. So I drove it over to the landfill who said they don’t take it, but gave me the name of a place that did, and surprise, an hour and a half later and a few litres of Trumps expensive gas, I finally got rid of it.

And fourth, my pants and jacket become thoroughly dirty from lying on the ground, requiring me to spend more time and detergent washing them. Actually, I’ve kept them hidden waiting for a good time to show them to Lisa.

So there you have it, done in by my own hard headedness. Which is a common occurrence.

Eclipse

We were very fortunate to see the lunar eclipse on the morning of March 3rd, especially considering how cloudy it has been this winter.

I have included another photo from that night. Photographing the moon can be difficult. If you expose for the moon, the landscape often turns out very dark. If you expose for the landscape, the moon becomes completely blown out. I have always preferred photographing the moon in a blue sky at dusk or dawn. Doing so allows you to choose an exposure that works for everything in the frame.

I try to keep my astrophotography simple. Most of my images are single exposures. Occasionally I will take multiple images to create a panorama when I want to show more of the scene than a single frame can capture.

During this eclipse, however, I did something very common in astrophotography: I took two exposures of the same scene—one exposed for the moon and one for everything else. This allowed me to capture detail in the moon without it being blown out. I achieved this by adjusting the ISO and shutter speed between shots. In Photoshop I stacked the images and used masking to combine the best parts of both exposures. It is a bit of a trick, and I admit I feel somewhat guilty for doing it.

This method is widely used. Photographers often take many exposures of the sky to reduce noise, along with separate exposures for the landscape and the stars. The images are then aligned and processed in Photoshop to create a polished final photograph. The Milky Way can really pop when this technique is used.

However, this approach isn’t really for me—not because I believe there is anything wrong with it, but because it requires more concentration and planning than I enjoy when I’m out photographing. I prefer to roam around with my camera, capturing single shots as I go.

There are also many photographers now using AI in astrophotography. For me, these images are usually easy to spot and make up a large portion of astrophotography found online. They can be striking, and again, there is nothing inherently wrong with these methods. I know of several landscape photographers who place the Milky Way above well-known mountains in directions where the Milky Way never actually appears. The images sell well for them—and why not?

Perhaps it is because I grew up in a newspaper shop that my instinct with photography is to document. I try to make the best photograph I can with the equipment I have, paying attention to composition, colour, and the rule of thirds. But in the end, what I am really trying to capture is a place, a moment in time, and an attitude—something that may not exist in quite the same way in the years ahead.

Willow

November 2014 – February 2026

Before Christmas, Willow started coughing. At first, I thought she might have swallowed some water or picked up something she shouldn’t have. But when it didn’t stop, we took her to the vet. An X-ray showed that her heart was very enlarged — so large it nearly filled her entire chest cavity and was pressing against her trachea, which was causing the cough.

The vet prescribed medication, and thankfully the coughing stopped. She seemed to return to her old self.

From the time she was young, though, we were always told she had an irregular heartbeat. Sometimes it beat so lightly that, over time, her heart grew larger. It’s almost funny, everyone who knew Willow always said she had a big heart. In more ways than one, that was true.

Unfortunately, the coughing returned in February. Even then, she still loved her routines; eating well, going for walks, and sitting in front of the fire. During the day she managed quite well, but the nights were harder.

On her last day, she visited all her favourite places. She even barked at her favourite lady at the Tim Horton’s drive-through, and of course, she was rewarded with a Tim Bit.

On February 17th, Willow passed away. She was not in pain. She was in Lisa’s and my arms.

Willow shared so many adventures with us. The mountains feel different now without her. We always had an unspoken agreement to keep each other safe. She took her job seriously, more than once chasing bears up trees, and doing her best to keep flying creatures away (not ideal when you’re trying to photograph them). The Wire-Haired Dachshund is known as courageous, intelligent, stubborn and loving. Willow was had all of these traits. She could also be funny and seemed to take joy in making her people laugh.

During the Olympics there was a commercial featuring an AI figure-skating bear. Every time it came on, Willow, even though she wasn’t feeling good, would leap up, run to the television, and bark.

Willow gave us everything she had for eleven wonderful years. We are all going to miss her. It’s going to be hard without her.

Friends

Dog, departed companion
I told you that the sky would fall in
and it did. How will we see each other again
when we’re without eyes? We’ll figure it out
as we used to when you led me back
to the cabin in the bush in the dark.

Jim Harrison

Willow with her winter coat. February 2026.

The Big Little Dog.

Tracking.

Summer coat.