Tag: writing

Thanksgiving Weekend

Just a reminder to step outside and try to spot Comet Lemmon, now brightening in northern skies. It may not reach the brilliance of Comet NEOWISE—seen here in 2020—but with comets, you never really know how bright they’ll become.

It’s finally starting to have a chill in the air. I found a home for most of my giant red cabbage. Sophie from Sophie’s Choice Pickles took it to make fermented sauerkraut. Her pickles are incredible and she sells out every year.

***

The good neighbour Larry has been enjoying the carrots. I left a bag of them on his doorstep the other day. I didn’t stay to talk as I was in a hurry and figured he’d find them as soon as he came out the door. They are Chantenay carrots. If you know your carrot varieties you know Chantenay have short thick tapered bodies.

Later that day a friend stopped by who is quite religious. I behave myself in his company. As we talked outside, Larry came out and found the carrots. He grabbed them by the stems and walked to the edge of his property, celebrating the gift raised high, yelled across the road, ‘Thanks for the buttplugs!’

I looked to my pious friend and sheepishly said, ‘They are carrots.’

But I couldn’t resist an answer to my good neighbour as he expects it from me, and yelled back across the road, ‘They are various sizes so you can work your way up!’

He didn’t miss a beat and yelled back, ‘I’m no amateur!’

***

If it clears a little, Willow and I may head out tomorrow morning to look for Comet Lemmon in the coming dawn. Hard to know if it will clear however as some are calling for snow.

Osprey

The river is full reaching almost to the top of the banks. Flowing quickly to the north. Catching the red willows, straight as arrows, flicking them forward until the spring back in a gracious whip. Green mud that mixes perfectly with the sky. Colours you only see at this time of year. A calendar without dates only sounds, bird calls, trickles and thunder. Smells like heat and moisture, the service berry ripening, some call Saskatoons, sweet, and the river running with high country snow and last nights rain.

The osprey doesn’t recognize me. It leaves its nest and circles above. Sizing, evaluating threat. I try to let it know we are old friends, but feel its distrust.

So often they would follow above as I walked the paths of bush to the lake. Back then it watched as my mind was on fish, railroad tracks, the spring in poplars, the wind putting a ripple on the water, just enough to obscure the weeds and fish swishing shadows, languid almost undetectable during calm, as I wondered how they saw their prey during a storm with a chop on the lake. Other than that I was oblivious most of the time, happy to roam the shore. A whistle would make me turn skyward or to a snag then back above to the railway and someone approaching. My signal to move along, to avoid the day being interrupted by the crudeness of conversation or worse, a scolding or beating. Once further down the shore or back under the canopy of bush the osprey would have followed. But I didn’t keep track back then.

The mosquitoes had me. Lifting me among the clouds. They buzz in my ears and around my nose, I shut my eyes and try not to swat, in case I am to fall from such a height. Above the river I can’t see the fish through the summer murk. The osprey still holds me in its eye, assessing, wary. Its wingspan and hooked beak, turbulent, knowing honour can put it at risk. I hope it can see through the chop on the surface, through time and hurt, even if I can’t.

Garden Planted

Damn it feels good to have a few days off. The rest of the garden is planted. The tomatoes started in the basement are on their own and look healthy. They looked happy to be planted. Of course we had a short windstorm today that knocked them around. It’s up to them now.

We’ll see if anything comes up. The birds are enjoying the sprinkler as it has been dry with not a lot of runoff due to low snowpack in the mountains.

***

The other day Lisa thought she heard something in the basement. She was right, it was a scratching and banging in the stove pipe. I opened up the pipe and nothing. I checked the chimney and stove, still nothing.

That night the banging and scratching started back up. Willow did her job letting us know of potential intruders. We didn’t get much sleep.

In the morning I took it all apart again and nothing. Once I put it all back together the noises resumed.

We went to Cooper’s soccer game. When we came home the noises were still coming from the pipe but now they were coming from where the pipe joins the stove.

I opened it up and there was an American Flicker, a type of woodpecker hiding in the flume. It must of, somehow flew down the chimney. When I had opened everything up it would go back into the chimney where we couldn’t see it. Once it went down the pipe to the stove it couldn’t get back up.

Lisa opened the basement door. I reached in and gave it a nudge. The Flicker burst into flight and flew across the room and straight out the door.

We couldn’t have been happier. I’m sure the bird felt likewise.

The Miracle

Sometimes when you feel bad the best you can do is put one foot in front of the other and count it as a victory and let that small little victory lead to a little bigger one. The world often doesn’t see you the way you see the world. The world won’t see you hurt if you keep putting up small victories. Even if that’s only one foot in front of the other.
Sometimes you may climb out of bed and think I don’t think I can do it. But you laugh knowing you’ve felt that way before. And you put one foot in front. And you look for those little miracles along the way. That squirrel on the line catching Pedley’s eye. The way her fur rises on her shoulders as she turns to attention.
The commute, earbuds with Above and Beyond, that’s something, that drop after meandering through an electronic corridor, then a slow rise, getting faster with one door opening after another into brighter colours.
Into work, like so many, but it’s not just a job, it’s to help others with the same hollowness that was nagging you earlier. It’s the realization we are so alike and different. Things are both terrifying and beautiful. And you put another foot forward and you count another victory and you hold a hand out and pull another like you up. And you put another foot forward. Soon the slow days, the hard days and the good days all become miracles.

Early January

Very strange winter. We have had plenty of snow, but temperatures have been unusual. We haven’t had any double digit minus temperatures. The lake doesn’t have enough ice to drive on yet. Many days throughout December have been above freezing.

2024 is in the books. It was a good year. Lisa and I will have to find a better work/life balance as we both worked plenty of hours with not many breaks. It is funny to think, turning 60 this year, and not having pensions, we only have another 10 years of work left to put a little away to ease us to the grave. I say this in jest as I wouldn’t want it any other way. In the past I had a taste of working for the government with the big bloated pensions they offer and it wasn’t for me.

Did a few hikes, but not as many as I would have liked. A few injuries caught up with me. Not surprising considering.

2024 had some incredible northern light displays as the sun reached a a solar maximum in it’s 11 year cycle. Lisa and I were lucky to spend several nights in the mountains under the spiking auroras. The auroras were so strong on one occasion that I was able to detect them when it was still light.

It would be nice to get some cold weather and blue skies, we are half way through winter for Christ’s sakes. Freeze some pipes, bring out the stars so bright you can hear them while all the ancient ghosts take your breath. Freeze the gas line, kill the battery, make the old truck crank and moan. Rosy the cheeks, remind us of all the bits we froze as they only hurt now in the cold. Telling us we can always light it all on fire if we really need to get warm.

Rob

Rob Dunn, who published The Valley Peak passed away last week. He had been battling serious health issues for several years. It still came as a shock to many of his friends and acquaintances. It seemed he had been on the doorstep quite a few times and always battled back. This time, unfortunately, it was not to be.

Rob’s paper, The Valley Peak resembled a coffee newspaper that you often find in cafes. Like a coffee news The Valley Peak contained jokes and ads, however, The Peak was much more. It was usually 8 pages printed on coloured bond paper, published weekly and widely distributed up and down the valley. But what really differentiated it from any other publication was that it contained a lot of Rob.

He promoted many worthwhile causes over the years. He set up a free food bin on one of Invermere’s streets for people in need. He espoused the benefit of gardening, fishing, cannabis use and roaming the outdoors. He often expressed his love for his hounds and the joy of being a dog owner.  He and I shared a love of stargazing and that is what we often talked about, as we did when we met in the grocery store about a week before his passing.

Rob was also a self described conspiracy theorist. Since the start of Covid he dedicated part of The Peak to his thoughts on the disease, vaccinations and alternative medicine. He also tackled other subjects such as global warming, woke culture and government interference. He had plenty of followers that agreed with his stance and also many people who did not. Regardless, he always seemed to know where to draw the line as not to piss off too many people, especially advertisers that he had many of. I was always in awe of this skill. Perhaps it was because he was always good natured.

An often theme of his short column Robservations was to treat each other with respect and compassion even when we don’t feel like it or have different views. It is a good message.

It seems the Valley is losing its character and special characters. Rob certainly was a character without replacement. Lisa and I extend our condolences to his family and friends. 

Happy stargazing Rob, wishing you clear skies and good fishing. 

The Evolution of the Bookstore

Lisa and I made a quick trip to Calgary on Friday. We didn’t have much time to look around. I was able to get to an Indigo bookstore for about 20 minutes. Always a treat for me.

This is what I have noticed about bookstores; it seems every time I go in them they have less books and more of everything else. The magazine section is all but nonexistent now as people now read on their phones or iPads where everything resembles a quick magazine read. Books, as well, are now consumed on line and read on a digital device. I am not there yet, and probably never will be, preferring instead to turn a paper page.

The extra space in the bookstore is taken up with giftware. high end crystal stemware, placemats, picture frames, plush towels, yoga mats, serving platters, art supplies, toys that only an adult would find interesting, games and health and beauty products, Including a little gadget called, The Firefighter Vibrator. It had a ‘Smile Maker’ extra 20% OFF sign beside it and promised ‘strong and focused stimulation of the clitoris’.  THIS in the bookstore where they no longer carry newspapers! I guess it is for the women who wants more than to curl up with a good book.

Damn I’m getting old. 

Late October

Chilly at -9°c this morning. The window scrapper I bought seems to work good. A skiff of snow here and there. Nasty roads going to work last Friday. Quite a few vehicles in the ditch. The first touch of winter can be that way with people learning how to drive icy roads again.

***

British Columbia and Canada had a bad forest fire year in 2023. Locally we had several fires burning close by, however I have seen worse years. Still, it has been reported, BC had one of the worst years in history, if not the worst.

Smoke engulfed many American and Canadian cities making breathing difficult for residents. In our part of BC the smoke wasn’t too bad. I guess it depends on the winds. We have definitely had worse. 

Here is a scary statistic; according to Natural Resources Canada forest fires caused triple the amount of CO2 released into the atmosphere, then from all other sources in Canada, including the burning of oil and gas. Most would have come from BC.

Wildfires are considered a natural source and are not counted towards Canada’s emissions or climate targets.

In other words; Canadians could achieve net-zero emissions by 2050 and we could still have run away global warming due to the forest burning and other natural disasters.

I also fear British Columbia Foresters could use these statistics to cut down every tree in BC. They are well on their way to doing it regardless.

***

Considering these statistics, even if we were to stop burning oil tomorrow we had better figure out how we are going to live on a warming planet. It is beyond humans control now – if it ever really was in our control.

Falling

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.