Mysterious Hole in the Ice

     We are finally getting some snow.  The temperature is just above freezing, so the snow is fairly wet and packable.  As usual in the morning, I walked around the pond.  When I got to the dam side, I was puzzled when I saw a big platter-sized hole in the ice.  I have no idea how a hole got there.  Two days ago, the ice was thick enough for me to walk on, in fact, I think those three long snow-covered areas below the hole are from my footsteps.

    My first thought when I saw the hole was that some animal had broken through the ice, but there were no tracks around it, and the edges around the hole don’t suggest a struggle of some critter trying to climb out.  The splatter-shape of the hole suggests an impact, but surely if a tiny meteorite had hit the ice there would be bits of broken ice thrown up around the perimeter of the hole.  

    I guess the hole could have been formed by the expansions and contractions of the ice, causing a break the ice in a weak spot.

    The only other thing that I can think of that might have caused the hole, is warmer water coming from a spring at the bottom of the pond, but I don’t think that would cause the ray-like areas emanating  the hole.

    I just don’t know.  It’s a mystery.  

View my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

SNOWFALL WARNING; Okay, Where Is It?"

     For several days now our weather forecast has been adorned with bright red warnings alerting us to “WINTER STORM WARNING” and “SNOWFALL WARNING”.  After our past few summer and winter droughts, I was happy to see that we would get some snow.  “Finally,” I told myself, “we are returning to what used to be normal for our winters.”

    I got all prepared for the snowfall.  I checked the oil in my snowblower, and put gas in the tank.  When I pulled the cord, it started right up.  I blew out a bit of snow, just to test that everything was working. (photo below)  I was ready for the predicted snowfall, but day after day, nothing materialized except for a tiny dusting of the white stuff.

    Now, I am back to feeling that we are not going to get a “normal” winter this year.  The only optimistic thing is that at least we do have about 3 to 4 inches (7-10 cm) of snow on the ground, so that gives the ground a bit of insulation in case we get a spell of really frigid weather.

    At present the wind is blowing and the temperature outside is +1°C (33°F)

You can see my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Little McBride Makes International News

     It doesn’t happen very often, but every once in a while, McBride, our tiny isolated village of about 600 people, makes international news.  It happened one fall when an eery immense thick spider web covered a field and fences.  Another time we made news when five snowmobilers were killed in an avalanche.  We made national Canadian news more recently, because of the extreme drought we were experiencing that was threatening to leave the village without water.  

    This current international media explosion is because someone locally managed to put a high-vis jacket on a deer.   Heaven knows that it would be a lot safer for drivers (and deer) if they were more visible when they venture out onto the highway, but I have yet to hear anything about who, why, or how the high-vis vest got onto the deer.

    It has been very interesting to watch the spread of this unusual “news” story.  Because we only have a weekly local newspaper, the story won’t be in there until later today.  I first saw the story on Monday on the CBC website, which is national in Canada, then it started popping up in some international media sources.   Several acquaintances have seen it in England’s The Guardian Newspaper site.

    If you haven’t seen the story, here is the link to it on the CBC site:

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/deer-high-vis-jacket-vest-mcbride-bc-1.7392483

View my paintings at:   davidmarchant2.ca

Costa Rica 1992: Trees As Growing Platforms

      The cloud forest was different from what I had expected.  It was just plant on top of plant, on top of plant, thanks to the abundance of moisture provided by the ever-present clouds.  The elevation of the jungle means that it is constantly sitting in the moisture laden clouds that move in from  the Pacific Ocean.

    That makes the huge trees a perfect platform for mosses, and vines, which in turn become platforms for other plants like ferns.  I had never seen trees like these before, which support so much other plant life, but years later in the Ancient Forest near McBride, I did see some big old cedars whose thick branches supported large clumps of moss on top of them.  The Ancient Forest is situated in an area where moist clouds hang around on the mid-slope of the mountains, keeping the mosses wet and thriving.

    I had found a 400 ASA roll of film at home before we left.  I didn’t know how old it was, but it was the right speed for photos taken under the dark of the tree canopy.  

    You can view my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

    Our destination for the day was the Monteverde Cloud Forest Reserve, which was located very high in the Telaran Mountains, but the bus dropped us off in the nearby town of St. Elena, where caught a taxi to the Hotel El Bosque, which externally wasn’t very inspiring, since it looked like a motel sitting in a pasture.  Fortunately, the rooms were new and attractive.  They cost $30 a night.

    Once we settled down in our room, we discovered that we had left our big blue and white umbrella on the bus, which was discouraging, since we had dragged it around Costa Rica for a week, and had just arrived at a rainforest where it would come in handy.  We walked into St. Elena and bought a smaller black umbrella for $9, and a poncho for $20.  

    For supper, my wife had a hamburger, and I went for the shrimp and rice, both of which were tasty.  The meal cost us $13 US.

    The next morning, we got up at 6:00, during our trip, we couldn’t seem to sleep in any more.  We plodded up hill for three kilometers to the entrance of the Monteverde Cloud Forest Preserve but fortunately the air was cool,.  

    It cost us $10 CND each to enter the park and just when we got to the parking lot, we noticed a guide with a group of tourist point out a Resplendent Quetzal, one of the most visually spectacular birds in the world.  I didn’t see it, but rationalized to myself that at least I did see a blur when it flew away.  Spotting a green bird in a three-dimensional sea of green foliage is not one of my skills.

      View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Costa Rica 1992: Crazy Rural Buses

             After finishing our meals, and heading back to our rooms, we made an inquiry at our hotel about the bus schedule to St. Elena and were told that it left from just outside the hotel at 8:00.  That created some anxiety, since back in the San Jose Tourist Information Center, we were told the bus left at 6:00.

    We didn’t sleep very well that night because there were cats in heat howling and pouncing on the tin roof above our bed.  Thinking local knowledge was better than the information we got in San Jose, we threw caution to the wind and slept until 6:30, then caught the 8:00 bus, which was 15 minutes late.  This first bus only took us to a place called Telaran which was only 70 kms (44 miles) away, but it took the bus several hours to get there.

    The road was rough and winding.  Near Arenal Lake, the vegetation beside the road was so thick and close, you could reach out the window and touch it.  In fact, the Bus Helper, stood in the open door of the bus as it traveled down the gravel road, and hacked at the vegetation with a machete, as it passed by.

    We arrived at Telaran at 11:30.  It was a town high on a hill with a big concrete cross planted on one of the prominent neighboring bald hills.  The whole surrounding area had been deforested, and turned into windswept pastures of grass.  At the big “carport” which served at the bus terminal, we happily paid the Bathroom Attendant twenty cents to use the clean washroom.

    At 12:30 we piled onto our next bus, which was a funky old school bus with a Mercedes emblem wired to the grill.  It was very crowded, but we got to sit together.  It was a painfully slow bus, picking up people and then dropping them off further down the road.  The Driver’s Helper dropped off items like jugs of milk and bicycle tires here and there along the way.  The rough road was reminiscent of the road up to McBride Peak, with its jarring surface and hairpin curves.

    At one point a dump truck had tried to turn around and had locked gears in the attempt, blocking the road.  Our bus which was climbing the hill up got to it and had to stop.  The Bus Helper got out of the bus, walked to the rear of the bus where he pulled out a chain.  He hooked the chain to the front of the stranded truck, then to the front of the bus.  Our bus slowly backed up, pulling the truck sideways into the road, where it was able to get going downhill.

    Further down the road, a motorcyclist with a flat tire, flagged our bus down.  The Helper, opened the hood of the bus, hooked an air hose up to something on the engine and was able to inflate the motorcycle tire back up.

View my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Thought Provoking Music Books

     A couple of weeks ago I was leaving the library after our Writing Group.  I was called over by the librarian, who then asked me if I would take two boxes of music books and try to find new homes for them.  She helped me cart the boxes of books out to my car.  

    The books had belonged to a local resident who had recently past away.  A couple of days later I emptied the 32 books onto the living room floor and began making an inventory of them.  There were books for fiddle, banjo, and guitar as well as three ring binders full of hand written lyrics and chords of songs, and photocopies of songs, mostly for banjo.  I made a list of titles of the books, and emailed them out to our jam members to see if they wanted any.  They reduced the number of books by about half.  The remaining books I will list on Pete’s List, our local Robson Valley internet bulletin board, to see if other residents want any of them.

    I was acquainted with Brian, the man who once owned the books, and was surprised, because I wasn’t aware that he played music.  I guess he must have played music on his own; he had never come to our jam, even thought a lot of the music he had, were songs that we play.  That isolated playing of music seemed sad to me, because I have always found playing music with others is so much fun and a real learning experience.

    This collection of books cost Brian a lot of money.  That got me thinking about how things had changed.   Once if you wanted help figuring out how to learn an instrument or learn how to play a song, you bought a book.  Some of these books included CD’s or DVD’s to help.   However, today with the internet, it is a lot easier just to find the lyrics and chords for free online.   There are also lots of free videos that show you how to play an instrument or a song.  Music books have become obsolete.

    The other big thought that struck me while dealing with the books, dealt with death.  I thought about all of the music books I have, and when I die, someone will have to deal with them, the same way I am dealing with the books Brian owned.

Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Our Cross To Bear: Kona at 6:40 AM

     The house is dark, outside the sky is dark, I am basically asleep except for a few brain cells that hear the slow clicking of our dog Kona, coming up the stairs.  I force my eyes open, turn my head over toward the clock radio, and when my eyes focus onto the radio’s red digital display, I see, just as I expected, 6:40 AM.  Like every other day, Kona’s inner clock has told her that it was time, to rouse everyone from their sleep.

    I really have no reason to get up in the dark.  I am retired, so I have no job to go to, and there is nothing urgent that I have to do at this hour, but Kona is not the kind of dog that gives up, and finally, it is me that gives up and force myself from my warm bed.  As I dress, Kona sits there and waits until I am done.  Once dressed I walk into the other room, which is still dark, and by this time, Kona has realized I am up and dressed, so she is sitting at the top of the stairs, waiting for me to turn on the light, so she can better see her way down the steps.  

    Once we get to the bottom of the stairs, she is anxious to go outside.  It is not because she needs to pee, usually after we get out there, I have to interrupt all of her busy sniffing, to tell her to pee.  Once she has, she will with my prompting, go back into the house with me.

    That is our daily routine.  We have done it so long, I am at least half awake when Kona comes up to get me out of bed.  If that is the case, it is somewhat tolerable, but if I am sleeping soundly, her entrance and pawing the bed, is not very welcoming, and I start my morning in a grumpy mood.  

    But like the title says:   It is our cross to bear.

Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Our Old Trail Is Gone

     The other day, my iPhone gave me an alert.  It reported that my “activity level” for the last month had fallen below what it normally was.  While I was surprised that my phone was monitoring me so closely, I was pleased that it gave me the alert, because I knew that with the onslaught of colder weather, I have been a lot more housebound and inactive, than I usually am during the warmer weather, and getting the alert, made me want to do something about my laziness.

    I decided that I should walk our loop trail again.  A few years ago, walking the trail was something we did everyday, sometimes twice a day.  During those intervening years, for one reason or another, we stopped our little treks through the neighbor’s woods.  A few times I had done in during those slack years, I found the trail hard to hike because of all of the deadfall and branches that were blocking the path.   During the summer, the portion of the trail that ran through the fields down by the river, were overgrown with prickly tall thistles.

    The other day when I decided to walk the trail, I had forgotten just how unfriendly it had become, but the minute I began my hike, I quickly remembered.  The photo above shows the first obstacles blocking my way.  I decided instead of following the trail, I would just bushwhack through the woods, but doing that was just as hassle-prone as the trail.  By the time I got home, I realized that our trail, was just beyond hope, and would require just too much work to re-establish.

    Since I do walk around the pond several times a day, I have decided to jog or run along the dam which is level.  At least that will give me a bit more exercise than just walking.  Of course, I will only be able to keep doing that until the snow levels get so high, then the dam too will become too much of an hassle, until I snowshoe a path on it.

    Below is an old photo of roughly the same place as the photo above, however the trail is only shown in the lower left corner.

View my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Ginger Is Not Coming, Kona

     I have always been saddened and touched whenever I hear any of those stories about a faithful dog who waits everyday for their master, who has died to come back home.  We have a similar sort of thing happening here with our dog Kona.

    For about a year, our neighbors had a young dog named Ginger.  When Kona first met Ginger, she was overjoyed with having another canine in the neighborhood.  Kona quickly learned that if she went outside, faced toward the neighbor’s house and barked, Ginger would come over, and they would sniff each other.  After about a minute, Kona had had enough, and would come back into the house, but still it was a very important part of Kona’s life.

    Sadly, six months or so, Ginger  was hit and killed by a car.   Ever since, Kona wants to go outside and every time she does, she stands, facing toward the neighbor’s house and barks and barks.  I wonder if Kona will ever realize that Ginger will not be coming over to see her.

    It becomes very frustrating that you cannot communicate everything to your pets, so that they will understand.

Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

It's Starting To Look Like Winter

     Of course things can always change, but right now the Robson Valley is starting to look like winter.  The pond has frozen over, there is a couple of inches of snow on the ground, and the mountains are blanketed with the white stuff.  So far we have escaped frigid temperatures, but the forecast is predicting  -21°C (-6°F) for this Saturday.  I am hoping we get a bit more snow on the ground for insulation, before that happens.

    These conditions do feel a lot closer to what used to be normal, than what we were experiencing last year, when we had a “green” Christmas, without snow on the ground.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Costa Rica 1992: Stiffed By Taxi Man Jorge

          We hiked a bit further along and at the top of a hill, we could see below us the restaurant where we had told Jorge the taxi man, to pick us up.  We still had plenty of time before that was supposed to happen, but we thought we’d head down there anyway.   To get there, we followed a cow path, until we encountered a barbed wire fence with no gate, so we carefully climbed through the fence and into a newer pasture, toward the rear of the restaurant, only to find yet another barbed wire fence to cross.  Obviously, this was not a well-used tourist trail.

        Once down at the restaurant, we still had two hours to wait, so we decided to just walk down the road for an hour, then turn back.  By this time it was midday and the sun was fierce.  Down a hill we saw the fancy building with the volcanic river pools where we had taken a dip the night before.  Up a long hill, and down another, we spotted the hot spring pools where other tours swam.

        I spotted a woodpecker, similar to the pileated-variety we have in BC, but this one had yellow by its bill, a white spot over the eye, and no comb on its head.  It sat patiently in the tree while I dug my camera out, then flew away before I could take its picture.

        We were exhausted, so hiked back down the road to the restaurant, and arrived at a quarter to one.   We ordered some Cokes and waited for Jorge to come.  One o’clock, one fifteen, one thirty, one forty-five, and finally two o’clock, but no Jorge.

        After a further long wait, we finally realized Jorge wasn’t going to come to drive us back to La Fortuna, so we decided to hitchhike the 11 kilometers.  Fortunately, an Italian couple took pity on us and drove us back to our hotel.

        My back was pretty wrecked for the rest of the day, so we didn’t do anything except take some photos of the Arenal Volcano when the clouds lifted more than they had since our arrival.

        For supper I had a banana milkshake, rice, and shrimp, while my wife tried rice, chicken, and black bean soup (with an egg in it.)  She was not impressed with the soup.  

View my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Costa Rica 1992: "A Snake!"

      At the far end of the picnic area we came upon a gate, which we unhooked and entered a trail.  We began walking up the trail, which was just a bush road, carefully avoiding the cow paddies.  There was a total lack of signage, so we turned around and walked all the way back to the Park Keeper, to asked if that was the trail.  “Si,” was his answer, as best as we could interpret it.

    So again we walked up the trail, and to our dismay, found that it led to another cow pasture.  Fortunately, following the trail eventually led us to an actual jungle.  Once under the thick canopy of trees, we stopped to listen to the many varied songs of the tropical birds.  Look as we might, we were  never able to spot any of them.

    My wife made the big discovery of the day.   As we trekked down the trail, she suddenly exclaimed, “Snake!” and pointed to the low plants on the side of the road.  I noticed a little tail slip under some leaves, as my wife, in great haste, headed for the security of middle of the road and stayed there.  

    I carefully pried the leaves away to get a closer look at the little guy, and got quite a shock.  It was a Fer-de-lance, the most poisonous snake in South America (and I assume Costa Rica).  It was just a baby, about as thick as a pencil, and 10 inches long, but it had the obvious arrowhead-shaped head and the ochre-colored patterns. 

    I was happy we had run into just a baby Fer-de-lance, because they can grow up to seven feet long.  I took a photo, hoping the picture would turn out, but despite looking at that slide many, many, times, I have never been able to see the snake in it.  (I got the photo above from the internet.)

    Spotting the Fer-de-lance, certainly did have an effect on the rest of our hike.  My wife changed her hiking habits, and began staying on bare ground, the best she could, and rather than both of us walking side by side, I took the lead and she followed where I walked.

    After traveling through about 300 meters of jungle, we found ourselves in yet another pasture, but we were able to tell we were on the right trail, because we saw the second lake, whose size was more pond-like.  We quickly cancelled any thought of taking a swim, because, cows and swimming don’t mix well.

Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Costa Rica 1992: A Disappointing Los Lagos Park

      The following day, was cloudy with a few sunny breaks, but they broke in a way that never allowed us to see the tip of the volcano.  The Hotel Ambugue Bureo, where we stayed was a bed and breakfast, and our breakfast consisted of Corn Flakes, juice, and fruit (watermelon, pineapple, carrots, and some kind of orange melon).

    After breakfast we donned our jungle gear (heavy duty pants with a lot of pockets, and the “gum” boots (“Wellington” or rubber boots), which I had lugged all the way from McBride).  We walked out to street to find a taxi that would take us to Los Lagos, a park featuring two lakes, that was mentioned in our guide book.  Our plan was to hike the jungle trail, maybe swim in one of the lakes, and then have the taxi bring us back to the hotel four hours later, from the restaurant at the trail’s end.

    We felt fortunate when we got a taxi, driven by a guy named Jorge, who said he would take us to Los Lagos, then pick us up at 1:00 at the restaurant for a fee of $12 CAD round trip.  As is often the case, when we got to Los Lagos, the reality didn’t quite live up to our expectations.   We forked out the $2 to get through a gate on the road and the little girl, who was the attendant wrote out a receipt and gave it to us, then unhooked the gate to allow the taxi to drive through.

    I had thought that we would be hiking to the lakes, but instead Jorge drove us down a rough “road” made up of two parallel concrete strips for the tires, with periodic speed bumps every 50 meters.  The speed bumps seemed pretty redundant considering the already bumpy concrete strips.  The “road” took us through a huge pasture complete with cows milling around, standing on the road (flashes came to me of every grazing lease in the many back valleys in the Robson Valley), to a grassy park beside one of the lakes.

    When we got out of the cab, we were dismayed, because the surroundings were nothing like the natural jungle we had expected.  Instead there were some picnic tables and shelters, a chapel, complete with Bible verses on signs nailed to the trees.  In the lake there were pedal-bike boats.  The only redeeming thing we found about the park were the big trees that had fortunately been spared by the developers, and the low clouds that gave the trees a primal feel.  We spotted some tropical birds, including a toucan-type bird with a large puke-colored green bill.

You can see my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

A Stressful Drive Home

     Yesterday we had medical and dental appointments in Prince George, so we had to make the two and a half hour drive up in the early morning, then make the two and a half hour drive back home starting at 3:00.   The drive is always dangerous, with the curves and hills of the mountainous terrain.   Highway 16 also full of big logging and freight trucks racing to get where they are going, but once fall arrives and winter approaches, things get even worse, as shortened daylight, darkness, and inclement weather are added to the experience.

    I took the photo above of the interesting clouds as we began our drive home to McBride.  It was the highlight of our return trip, and I didn’t realize it then, that the clouds were an indicator of problems ahead.  As we proceeded, the clouds became thicker and darker.  Soon it began to rain.  Then the darkness intensified as night fell.

    Night driving has become very problematic.  The headlights of oncoming traffic have become much brighter, causing my eyes to pretty much blot out everything except the blinding headlights quickly advancing toward me.  All I could do was to watch the white line on the side of the highway, in order to tell me where I was on the highway.  Rain added to my stress, as each truck barreled toward me.  I often started to brake until the trucks got past me.

    As we got to the Robson Valley, we began to run into slush on Highway 16.  Fortunately, it wasn’t thick enough to cause the car to swerve, but it was an indication of even worse driving conditions that we will have to face once winter arrives.   

    I always thank my lucky stars every time we arrive back home safely.  We try to limit our trips to Prince George during the winter, but sometimes they can’t be avoided.

View my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Inside A Hornet's Nest

     Remember the large hornet’s nest that was hanging on the edge of our carport?  The hornets had all left to burrow into the ground to over-winter, but I thought I would just keep the nest hanging there, because a friend had told me that if it remained, then next summer the hornets would not come there again, and build their nest somewhere else.

    However yesterday, when I walked onto the carport, I saw many little paper-like pieces of the nest all over the floor, and when I checked the nest I saw that two big holes had been made in it.  I assume it was a bird that was checking to see if there was anything to eat inside it.  With the nest ruined, I took it down and was going to put it on the compost pile.

    Before I did that, I started to rip it apart, and was a fascinated at the inner structure of the thing.  Inside there were four plater-like layers for the nesting cylinders of decreasing size, that were held together by a central stem.  It was an incredible nature-built piece of architecture.  It seemed like it would quite a feat to build such a thing in the dark, inside the nest, but I guess hornets have been perfecting their building for millions of years.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Weather To Match The Mood

     I am really affected by the weather.  My moods are elevated by sunshine and start to plummet with dark overcast.  This week is different, instead of me being influenced by the weather, it seems that the weather has been influenced by me.   I have been quite down because of the US election and the weather has come along to compliment my mood.   

    As you can see we have been getting a really thick overcast of dark clouds and showers.  After our long drought, it would be hypocritical to complain about getting precipitation, we certainly need it, but the gray clouds  aren’t very up lifting.  I guess I will just try to keep my focus on the need for rain. 

You can take a look at my paintings by going to:  davidmarchant2.ca

Costa Rica 1992: Trespassing To A Hot Springs

      After about an hour of lava watching at the Arenal Volcano, the group all packed back into the minivan to head to the hot springs.  The guide asked us if we would mind paying an extra dollar apiece, so we could go to a better hot springs.  Everyone was game, so that is where the minivan  headed.

    That the extra dollar was to pay off the guard at a fancy house and property.  The owners were away, and it seemed that the enterprising guard was doing a secret side-hustle; sneaking tourists onto the property and hot springs he was supposed to be guarding at night, for some extra cash.  

        Since it was all on the sly, we had sneak to the hot springs which was located on the large garden-like backyard behind the big house quietly, and using only a few flashlights.  It was very dark and we couldn’t really see much except what the flashlights illuminated in front of us, as we quietly followed the guard to the hot springs.

    The hot springs were wonderful.  A large pool had been dug out and dammed beside the thermal river that flowed from the volcano.  The water was about three feet deep and very warm, not hot.

    We stripped down into our swimming suits and carefully immersed ourselves into the hot springs.  Everyone turned out the flashlights, and enjoyed the soothing warm water in the darkness.  We watched the lightning bugs and listened to the hum of the crickets, frogs, and the warm volcanic waters flowing over the rocks.  As our eyes adjusted to the darkness we could make out the silhouette of the jungle around the small opening of the night sky.

        It was a wonderfully pleasurable and memorable experience.

        The photo was taken using “Night Vision” on the camera.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca