Look how simple these high European landscapes are, how swept by the sea, how chewed by cows, how much the earth has been given over to the sky. Now, compare with the Okanagan, where overgrazing by cattle leads to bushiness.

Look how high European oaks root in that sky, in a world without colour, but with exquisite shades of light and dark, in a weave of time.

And compare that to the Okanagan, where there are no oaks.

Here it is the land that moves in time. Here a walker passes through the hills the way a celebrant (or a cow) passes through the oaks of the Jura. Friends, these hills are our trees.

Plants are the hills between them.