Life in the Kootenays is regulated by the ferry schedule. Last week, driving over the Monashee pass, we had 15 extra minutes. So we decided to stop at Lost Lake, which is located some 1200 m above sea level. Great was our surprise when we spotted four trumpeter swans that apparently made a short stop-over at this tiny mountain lake on their journey south to their winter quarters. They seem to be papa and mama swan with the two youngsters they had raised in the Yukon during the summer months. We had never seen these graceful birds in the wild.
In the previous post, I reported that on October 15, my wife and I went swimming in the nearby Whatshan Lake. In the meantime, we finally had some much-needed rain but the temperatures for this time of the year are still way above normal. My followers in their comments asked me when we would get our first frost. This question brought back some fond memories of my annual pilgrimage to the mountains. In the 1980s, I never climbed up to the 8200 ft McBride mountain alone. At least one of our five sons accompanied me. Our hike would take place near the end of August. Often the meadows of the lower valley were covered by a white blanket of frost. Fast forward to the presence. Heart Creek, our main source of water, almost ran dry this year. Our garden is still producing red beets and cherry tomatoes. Only yesterday I picked a basket full of these delicious fruits from the vine. This is just another piece of evidence of climate change. Quite frankly, as pleasant as an extended warm spell may be, it makes me quite a bit worried.
Our son Tony and I are on the plateau of McBride. (1986) The ridge behind us leads to the higher Mt. Hilda
My wife planted the tomatoes in the soil under the gravel. They enjoyed the extra heat from the rocks.
On October 15, a bright sunshiny day that felt more like summer than fall, my wife and I went again hunting for chanterelle at a nearby mountain lake. While we did not find many mushrooms so late in the season, we enjoyed a picnic at a tiny beach framed by forests and the brilliant blue sky. The sky’s reflections on the crystal-clear water transported us into a dream world rarely encountered on our troubled planet. Whether you believe it or not, Biene and I jumped into the lake for a very, very refreshing swim. Enjoy.
Once upon a time, there was a butterfly. It was very trusting, or so it appeared to be. I discovered it on a water bottle cap sitting on top of the world.
How do I get off this water bottle? Should I fly or should I walk?
I guess I’ll walk. It’s such a short distance to the ground.
Why should I strain my wings?
Hurray! I made it. It’s time to get a little rest.
Oh no! The man with his big camera is coming too close for comfort. I’d better fly away.
The Peter and Gertrud Klopp Family 