Big Yellow Bear in the Sagebrush

Up the hill we go.

Butterflies in the mock orange. How nice!

CRASH! CRACK! BANG! A scurry of activity. One second later:

Then everyone is calm again. Now it’s time to hunker down and wait for Harold to go.

Lots of waiting.

Lots and lots of waiting. Sigh.

But the time to move on eventually comes. Yeah, OK, motorcycle on the road to the golf course up above. People, use a muffler, hey, if you don’t mind.

Harold moves on, too. Well, sorta. His spirit is still there.

What a beautiful morning.

Every day is a great day to meet a grassland bear. This is my fifth. Two were in the dark. I don’t do that anymore!

Such a handsome one, especially!

Thank you, Bear.

Water at Work and Play

Water + Carbon + Air + Sun, tensed like a bow against the wind, waiting to be knocked loose by the deer of the sky.

Water + Carbon + Air + Sun, lying like wind on the face of the water.

Water + Carbon + Air + Sun, waiting to be carried on the face of the wind.

Water + Carbon + Air + Sun, aka Poplar Cotton, catching in splashing waves of green.

Out of a few simple elements, untold complexity and immeasurable delight. The word for that? Why, life.

We are the children of the sun.

The Japanese Okanagan

During World War II, most British Columbians of Japanese Ancestry were robbed of their belongings, their homes and their liberty and interred in concentration camps in the B.C. Interior. In Vernon, a few remained free, and married into families from the camps, who could never go home again to the sea. Alongside their old orchards, the flowers still bloom.

They are showing us the way.

The way to beauty and the simple joys that are the strongest.

Words of forgiveness are not enough. Words of thanks and love are more fitting. Thank you. We love you. Let’s build the land you dreamed of.

 

Plastic, Gardens and Drought

The replacement of lawn with gravel to save a rain shadow valley from drought is based on the principle of laying plastic down over the living earth and smothering it so that its natural creative energy is killed.Or so it seems. After only two or three years, the earth reasserts herself and begins to bury the stones.
Any decorative appeal, which was gained at great expense, is soon lost.

Things begin to look like hell.

What a lot of work it is to kill the earth. Sometimes it’s just easier to give up and grow a garden.

Dang, but a few years will nix that, too. Whew.
Best to give that up to and relax by the lake. A cool brewsky. Kids playing in the sand. Corn on the cob. Nature, you know? Nice. Here’s the corn, coming along.

Oh, crap. Of course, you don’t have to kill the earth. You can use plastic to bring her to life, too. Water, you know.

A society gardens in its own image. That’s the thing. If you want to know your country, look to its gardens.

Ouch.