After the first big snowfall of 2016, I was happy to discover that an energetic person had trudged around One Mile Lake with their dog, setting a track for me to follow. I carefully complemented this path with my own, being sure to step just behind the tracks so as to widen the way. The … Continue reading The path well-trodden
Boxing Day we travelled to Lillooet to participate in the Christmas Bird Count. The travel checklist was varied: Bird books, binoculars, Christmas cookies for the social, pain killers in case the dog’s arthritis flared up, camera gear, hiking poles, laptops, a cheese tray (also for the social) and several layers of warm clothing. Snow swirled … Continue reading Bird Brain
A week before Christmas, someone posted a poem by writer, L R Knost: Do not be dismayed by the brokenness of the world. All things break. And all things can be mended. Not with time, as they say, but with intention. So go. Love intentionally, extravagantly, unconditionally. The broken world waits in darkness for … Continue reading One Hundred and Ninety-Nine Antonyms for “dismay” and we shall use them all
The recent cold spell caught me unprepared for the many photo opportunities it offered; the day after I noticed the shimmering sheath of frost on the branches along the path leading to One Mile, the snow commenced and fell until the branches bent and shed their glory. (Fortunately, the feathery frost world has captured my … Continue reading Ice
For convoluted reasons, I ended up with four accordions, one of which I play occasionally. The other three have been stored in various closets until four days ago when I listed the smallest two on the Pemberton Buy and Sell. What a flurry of response to two small instruments! People were alerting their friends to … Continue reading Don’t overlook the magic of a squeezebox: a tale from the owner of four accordions.
I’m on a quest for colour lately. The nightly news tallies up the days of rain we’ve had and people post shots of the sun in the rare moments it pokes through the grey. On rising the other day, we could see the promise of clear skies out towards the Rutherford, so we packed up … Continue reading Grey Days
When Mom and Dad moved to Pemberton in the early fifties, moose were plentiful and somewhat of a nuisance to farmers, apparently, as they tore through fences and were attracted to domestic cows during the rut. There were many stories of encounters with moose on winter roads wherein drivers had to wait out the moose … Continue reading Moose Watch with Connie Sobchak
Small birds don’t always get the recognition that larger birds do. Often unnoticed, they flit about in the undergrowth, scavenge under leaves and creep up the sides of trees. They tend to be dull in colour and furtive, yet sometimes they are outrageously brilliant to the point where you exclaim, “I had no idea we … Continue reading Little Birds
One early foggy morning, while running with the dog in the dark, I gazed in wonder at our haloed shadow as it paced ahead of us then glided out into the field beside us and disappeared. A car had come from behind just as we passed a large barn and somehow this combination of refracted light and mist caused … Continue reading Mist and Shadows
At workout the other morning, a newcomer to Pemberton said she had driven from Pemberton to Vancouver and back the previous day. She wondered if there was a name for that. We decided there wasn’t so I have taken on the task of naming a few common occurrences that Pembertonians might recognize, starting with the … Continue reading Is There a Name for That?
The Wellness Almanac 