photography – Page 35 – OldPlaidCamper

The dock days of winter

Every day of my recent stay in Ucluelet I went for a wander, rain or shine (mostly rain), and the wandering almost always included one or more of the docks dotted along the water.

I’ve written before about my complete lack of nautical skills, yet I’m drawn to the boats – I can’t help it. Is it in my genes? My Dad, or Old OldPlaidCamper, as he’s never called, did run away to sea when he was a boy. Imagine, a teenager in the merchant navy and seeing the world. He traveled to many parts of the globe before he met my Mum and settled down. He has told a story or two about that time, but I suspect there are many tales as yet untold.

Yes, that must be it – I’ve inherited the genetic possibility (huh?) of a life on the ocean waves. This makes sense – after all, I have almost completed Patrick O’Brian’s wonderful cycle of Aubrey-Maturin novels set in the British Navy of the early nineteenth century. Is that nautical preparation? I think so! Although, all those beautifully detailed and descriptive stories, and I still can’t tell a topsail from a topgallant, and I’m not too sure about a futtock shroud…(but I love that there are futtock shrouds – thank you, Patrick O’Brian!)

Back to the docks! Rain or shine! Port and starboard! Futtock shrouds to the rain, I say! The photographs this week are from a greyer day or two, when it was about to rain or had just stopped. As you can see, as well as the boats, I like the paraphernalia dotted about the vessels and docks, some of it appearing cast down at random, but it likely all has a purpose that my landlubberly eyes can’t figure.

I strode up and down every walkway, eager to see it all, slowing to take in each boat, stepping over a coil of rope, or the cables plugged into the big fishing boats. Every now and then an explosive splashing and flurry of wings would startle me from my daydreams, and I’d stop to admire the low flight of a duck I’d unwittingly disturbed, watching it scoot away across the water.

One morning, a Blue Heron was perched atop a piling, and remained unbothered by my presence on the dock. It looked very dignified up there, magisterial and generous enough to share the space. Herons, kingfishers, mergansers, bald eagles, gulls, and other birds I can’t name, were often present – it gets busy all about the water.

Big boats, little boats, new boats, old boats, grey boats, white boats, tidy boats, messy boats, boats for work, and boats for play – they all looked rather wonderful, moored up in the rain. Am I day-dreaming escapist notions from the global news storms that seem to sweep in every day? Perhaps, but being on the coast is retreat enough, and I wouldn’t want to disengage completely (even allowing for how our present day swirling and choppy political currents make becoming entirely unmoored a rather tempting prospect…)

Let’s be honest here – I’m happy enough to paddle a kayak or splash about in a canoe, but it is highly unlikely I’ll ever learn to sail and head out into bigger waters. I’d need a promise of endless calm water, and I think sailing doesn’t work too well on flat seas. Oh, futtock shrouds! No, this is absolutely fine, and I’ll stick to the fun that is the dreamy wondering and wandering around the harbour in these dock days of winter.

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!

A watercolour sky

I was sailing under a watercolour sky the other day! The happy travels of a nautical PlaidCamper – it all sounds rather lovely…

Sadly, or wisely, I haven’t bought a yacht, and the vessel I’d boarded was a car ferry, the “Coastal Inspiration”, operated by BC Ferries. Perhaps not the most romantic boat on the water, but if you board early, as I did, your car ends up parked up front, with splendid views ahead.

We’ve always been lucky whenever we take a BC Ferry – the weather has been kind. Given the amount of fog and rain the PNW receives, by now we should have had a murky or wet crossing or two, but so far, not too bad. Well, that’ll change next time, now I’ve gone and written that…

Although it was blustery up top and in front, the sea and sky scapes were pretty amazing as we left Duke Point and headed for Tsawassen. Once again, the photos this week were taken on my camera phone. I have got to get back to carrying my camera – getting forgetful with the passing years.

What was I saying? Oh yes, the views from on board. Mountains on the island, and mountains on the mainland. The British Columbia coast is beautiful! Last week it was full of soft blues, greys, oranges, and pinks that made it seem like we were sailing in a watercolour. A little fanciful, but very enjoyable as we bobbed about on the Salish Sea. Truthfully, there was not that much bobbing, it being a large car ferry and in calm conditions, which was a good thing. The last time I was out in a whale watching zodiac, everything was wonderful when zooming along, but the rise and fall of the lightish swell when we stopped to observe whales left me feeling somewhat queasy and green – I almost made the water colour. Enough about that.

fullsizeoutput_52c — Taken with wobble cam, grainy cam, swell cam, landlubber cam…

Anyway, a brief post this week to share a few shots of the sea and sky from last week. Back in the city now, and not particularly enjoying the round of chinooks and associated slush. Drip, drip, drip, and then overnight freeze, freeze, freeze, so the following morning we can all slip, slip, slip. Ah, all is well – a PlaidCamper with something minor to complain about.

fullsizeoutput_529 — You were here the other day – stop complaining

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!

Clambering and stumbling…

…but mostly sitting.

A contrast, weather-wise, with what was written last week. When will I learn not to mess with the weather gods? My delight at the sunshine and warmth we experienced (as most of North America shivered in far below seasonal temperatures) has since been tempered by more usual winter weather on the coast. It’s been raining almost non-stop ever since last Friday.

fullsizeoutput_524 — A pretty good view?

A little rain, or a lot of rain, wasn’t going to prevent daily walks, but it has been interesting trying to spot a weather window, some gaps in the clouds to enjoy a dry(ish) ramble.

I like to walk for an hour or more – anything less makes the effort of tying bootlaces and doing up jacket buttons too much. Honestly, that’s true. A holdover from donning winter gear to go skiing, boarding or snowshoeing, I think. An inflexible attitude to match the physical lack of flexibility when putting on thermal socks, lacing winter boots, then reaching down and securing snowshoe fastenings. I get tired thinking about it…

Yesterday, I used my skill and judgement (there were fewer raindrops running down the windows) and chose the early afternoon to hit the Wild Pacific trail. There are several access points within a short walk from where we are in Ucluelet, and once you’re on the trail, if it is raining – and it was – you have some measure of shelter. I like to pretend it isn’t raining, it’s only the drops dripping down from earlier. Makes me think my judgement is good.

Not wishing to be the headline in a future news piece about being washed out to sea, I kept my clambering and stumbling far from the incoming waves, on the logs between the trees and the rocks. Oh, overcast but beautiful. Of course I’d forgotten my camera – all those distracting raincoat buttons – but snapped a few grainy shots on my phone.

Remember that great weather judgement? So good that I was forced to stop and sit under a tree, because it wasn’t only drips, or ocean spray, it was rain. “It’ll pass,” I thought to myself, perching gracefully on a butt-sized tree root and leaning back gratefully against the trunk. I have to say, rain or not, I had a pretty good view. The scent of sea, wet wood and sodden earth was heady. The rain on my jacket, and the rumble of the surf just below was a welcome soundtrack. “I could spend some time here,” I said to myself. So I did.

Time passed. I ate my apple. The steady dripping grew heavier. More time passed. I nibbled the apple core. More rain. The afternoon wore on. The woody, stalky bit of the apple wasn’t too bad. “I think it is clearing?” Nope. More rain, and I drew the line at munching the appleseeds.

fullsizeoutput_521 — Taken from my perch

So it rained a bit, and then it did ease off, and grey skies grew a little lighter. I knew there’d be a break because the pattering was slightly less on my jacket, and I could hear, and then see, two bald eagles singing and circling on the rocks in the ocean in front of me. Not only had I forgotten my camera, I’d also forgotten binoculars. Never mind!

fullsizeoutput_526 — There is a bald eagle on each side of the shallow “U” – honest!

It was fine to see one or other of the pair take off, circle, fly down and out of sight beyond the rocks and then reappear to land. They kept this up for quite a few minutes. Then one took off, flew towards where I was sitting, and veered to my right to alight on a tree over the little bay. Majestic!

IMG_20180111_130158 — Was it lighter, then getting darker, or darker, and getting lighter?

The sky was changing back to a darker grey, and my inner forecaster decided it was time to head back. Sometimes slipping on the wet path, I tripped and stumbled but avoided a tumble through the rain and the trees, feeling slightly damp but delighted I’d stopped and seen the eagles on the rocks. What an afternoon for clambering and stumbling – but mostly sitting!

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!

Complaints? Not on a golden day!

I hear it has been a tad chilly across much of North America. I know this because my brother sent me an email the other day, asking if we could please take back the Canadian weather that has found its way into Maryland? Actually, he didn’t ask nicely, he wrote something along the lines of “take back this #*@%ing winter weather, my thermometer is reading -5F, I don’t know or care what that is in Celsius, but it is *#@%ing cold!” Well, I couldn’t believe that language from young brother PlaidCamper.

fullsizeoutput_502 — Not cold, no wind chill

I do like snow, but I’ve been quite happy to miss the recent cold snap in Alberta, with the -25C (before factoring in windchill. Yikes!) Young brother PlaidCamper did once visit us in Alberta in midwinter, but I can’t repeat what he said on here. Oh, alright, just a snippet:

“#*^% $#@^ *&^% @#$% your winter!” Goodness me…

We were born in Britain, so talking and complaining about the weather is part of our genetic make up. Can’t possibly talk about emotions or feelings – perish the thought! – but we can say how the weather makes us feel. In dear old Blighty, that was generally miserable due to the cold and wet. Stereotype wildly? Me? Pish! Anyway, I knew I should help him out – I simply couldn’t bear the thought of him suffering and complaining about the cold. I sent him a few pictures taken on Wednesday this week, to add a precious ray of sunshine, show some brotherly understanding, try and thaw him out just a little (but mostly to annoy him and see if he believed I was in the True North!) Pretty sure his temperature went up.

I couldn’t quite believe it myself. Warm sunshine and sitting on a beach late afternoon and into the evening, watching the sun set over the Pacific. Outdoors in January, in Canada, and I had to remove my toque, haha! Normally at this time of year, I only remove the toque to wash my hair or put on a snowboard helmet. My locks were blowing free in the sea breeze. Or they would have been, but male pattern baldness has put a stop to that. Yup, no hat, it was too warm. It isn’t often I can say I’m in Canada and in one of the warmest places in North America in January. I made sure young brother PlaidCamper knew that, let him bask second hand in the warm glow I experienced. I’m always happy to help.

DSCF6472 — Not cold, warm glow, slight breeze

Young brother PlaidCamper is planning a visit to Vancouver Island later in the year. We’re going to paddle and camp and sing songs around the fire. Hold on, what about that British reserve in our genetic make up? Quite right – we’re going to paddle and camp. I’ve said we’ll be camping in the woods. Best not tell him it is a rainforest. I haven’t mentioned the rain – I only send him photographs I’ve taken on sunny days – and I haven’t mentioned the rather low daytime highs in the summer. And I think I’ll keep quiet about the fog…

Thanks for reading – I hope you are keeping pleasantly warm wherever you are this weekend!

DSCF6451 — Not cold, no rain in this forest…

PS It has started to rain and looks set to stay that way for the next few days – don’t tell my brother.

IMG_20171228_133950 — The merest, barely discernible hint of rain (and slightly chilly?) Don’t say anything

Rushing out, rushing in

My goodness, time appears to be flying by – and as we are all busy, I’ll keep it brief this week! Having said that, let’s slow down a little…

Can you hear it? Is that the sound of the year rushing to a close? The sun setting on 2017? If your watch is digital, and your clock doesn’t tick, does time have a sound? We’re at that point with the turn of the year when many like to look back and peer forward, a combination of reflection and anticipation. Tick and tock.

Clockwork and mechanical noises aside, how about enjoying the passage of time and measuring it differently – perhaps in the tides rising and falling on a beach? Forget about seconds and minutes, and human precision. Slow down a bit, and feel the flow of water to experience time passing. Time as a current, and as currency – it’ll pass and can be spent in different ways. I look forward to finding some time and space in a thawing lake, in the flow of a spring river, a light summer rain shower, those autumnal fog banks rolling in, or in a winter snowstorm or coastal downpour. The anticipation of time being well spent…

Why all the water this week? We’re at the coast, and water is never far from where you are on the Ucluelet peninsula. Inlet or ocean, puddles and streams, rain or fog, we’ve experienced them all this week, and it is a water world for sure. We’ve also enjoyed some bright days too, striding along Long Beach, keeping warm with a brisk pace in temperatures nosing just a touch above freezing. There’s beauty out here in any weather!

fullsizeoutput_4f2 — Frosty (yuletide and high tide) logs

We want to wish you good health, peace, lots of slow time and space to spend exploring and enjoying the natural world (rain or shine!) this coming year.

We also want to thank you for finding the time to read OldPlaidCamper – we really appreciate that you do, and enjoy all the stories and comments shared.

Have a wonderful weekend, and Happy New Year!

Snow cannons and craft mead, hahaha! (huh?)

I think it is time for a suitably seasonal travel tale. How about a mighty mountain road adventure? All that follows is (mostly) true. If it helps, I hear the voice of Brian Blessed in the parts where there is a weather god laughing. I hope you know what I mean, there. Where is this going? Where were we going? Read on, if you have the time. We certainly had an interesting time as we travelled across Western Canada earlier this week.

fullsizeoutput_4d1 — A snowy Calgary? Nope. Another Chinook arch? Yup. Let’s pack the car, head to somewhere else!

If you’ve read one or two of the more recent posts, there’s a chance you have spotted a recurring theme. Theme is too strong a word – it is more realistic to describe it as a repetitive sulk – where I might have mentioned a distinct lack of snow the past six weeks? So of course the day we decided to leave a little earlier than planned (due to the lack of snow, why stick around any longer?) and head to the coast, was the day the snow gods decided to heed one man’s whining:

“Is that another snow prayer from the plaid clad little man? We cannot and should not put up with his incessant complaining any longer – it’s headache inducing, and I already have a slight hangover and blurred vision. That new mead with the lavender honey is quite delicious, and rather potent too. Just look at all this snow we’ve made, it needs using. We can’t keep it in the house, erm, I mean the great hall, any longer, there’s no room for our new barrels of craft mead. That checked-shirted irritant drives a black Jeep. He was packing the car last night, so when he leaves later, let’s point the snow cannon at his vehicle. He wants snow? Then snow he shall have, hahahaha!”

You have to love the snow gods, they’ve got a great sense of humour. Snow gods do exist, don’t they? Not too sure about all the craft mead – and adding honey/drinking from a cup in the shape of a horn doesn’t make for a better beer. Still, I guess if you’re a weather god, you get to drink what you like from any cup you choose. Lavender, though? Shudder…

Our trip got off to a great start! Approaching the mountains on Highway 1, we could see there had been snowfall. When we passed through Canmore, there was fresh snow! Yes, we did stop at Le Fournil to top up our coffee and buy a pastry for later…

When we paused to pee in Field – my goodness it was cold there – they had received fresh snow. It looked properly wintry.

fullsizeoutput_4d3 — This wall in Revelstoke had snow (what a terrible photograph!)

On we went to Revelstoke, stopping to gas up the car, and refill the travel mugs – Tim’s dark roast – and the first few real flurries of the day were starting to fall. Clearly the snow gods were recovering from their hangovers, and their blurred vision was clearing – the aim on our car was much better.

By Salmon Arm the flakes were really quite impressive, and along the valley towards Kamloops, the weather gods let loose with their celestial snow cannons! Big flakes in what we are more used to seeing as summertime high desert country.

At Kamloops, the overhead traffic signs warned that the highway ahead was closed beyond Merritt due to heavy snow. Thanks, Drive BC, that was good to know. (There was no mention of annoyed snow gods targeting the route – essential information, but there isn’t enough room on the signs to include all the details or hahahas…) What to do? Stay in Kamloops or push on? We decided to press on – our motel room in Merritt was booked, and if the route beyond was closed, we could worry about that the next day.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Next time we’ll stop in Kamloops! Poking the sleeping – drinking? – snow gods is not a good idea. The Coquihalla Highway between Kamloops and Hope is a high mountain road that can get snow any time of year. On a clear day, the drive from Kamloops to Merritt is less than an hour. If the weather gods have you in their snow sights, it’ll take well over two hours, and it won’t be fun. I like driving, and I like snow, but sometimes it turns out you don’t want both. What kind of fool would offer up a prayer for snow?

The light was fading – it hadn’t exactly been bright all afternoon – and the snow was very heavy. Yikes, that part of the journey was a white-knuckle whiteout! I am forever grateful to the driver of the white pickup just in front of us. S/he had their hazard lights flashing, and from time to time, if they hadn’t been on, I’m not sure I’d have picked out the road quite as well in the snow and dark. We were stopping in Merritt anyway, but even if the road had been open further ahead, there was no way I’d have continued. It was a scary ride, and not helped by the occasional brain dead driver hurtling past in the unploughed lane. Hey, you brain dead drivers? Thanks for throwing up the extra snow, because honestly, it wasn’t challenging enough already. Do you have sight that allows you to see through a snowstorm at night? You do? Oh, my apologies, and what a gift…

IMG_20171218_203747 — A fine SN winter ale. It’s not mead.

Anyway, we made it to Merritt, and after checking in and eating that pastry from earlier, I popped into a beer store and bought a horn of craft mead. Isn’t that something, mead by the horn in Merritt – who knew? Stepping outside into the cold and snowy night air, I raised it to the skies, and gave thanks for our safe arrival. I also put in an apology for all those pesky snow prayers, and made a request for clear skies the next day. No harm in asking. Then I hurried back to the motel. People were staring…

fullsizeoutput_4d5 — The Coquihalla Highway, the following day

What do you know, dawn revealed clear skies and an open road all the way to the coast. Thank you snow gods, and gods of weather and travel in general – I knew you were real, and you’re the best!

fullsizeoutput_4cf — Lots of highway snow, and doesn’t it look lovely?

“Hahahaha, that little fellow in the patterned shirts won’t be bothering us for quite a while, hahahaha! Ooh, the lavender honey really works in a horn of mead, doesn’t it? Fragrant! Is there any more?”

Thanks for reading, and if you celebrate Christmas, enjoy the coming weekend and beyond. Perhaps you’ll drink a horn of mead, hahahaha?

Small towns, and mountain towns

Just love them! And if the small town is also a mountain town, so much the better!

We went to visit friends in Canmore last weekend. Oh, wait a moment – before we get to that, what about the newish weekly PlaidCamper weather report/complaint? You really want to read that? OK, I’ll get it out of the way early – yes, there was some mountain snow, but it was all at higher elevations, nothing new lower down, and still no sign of snow here in Calgary. On the afternoon we headed for Canmore, the city afternoon high was 16C. Hmm.

Not as scorchio! as that in Canmore, but when we went for a short wander, it was still rather warm for the time of year. Luckily, Canmore made up for the lack of winter by being a small mountain town. Almost wherever you are in town, look up and around and you’ll see mountains, a constant reminder you’re nestled in the big outdoors.

If the weather isn’t cooperating for your hoped for adventures, Canmore has the right ingredients for spending time in a small town. Micro-brewery? Check! Visit The Grizzly Paw, either at the pub on Main Street or at the brewery on the Old Canmore Road. I wasn’t a huge fan a few years ago – many of their beers seemed too sweet and sticky to me – but when they opened their new facility and launched the Rundlestone session ale, I was a convert. (Also, I’m going to have to find a bottle or two of the seasonal Larch Valley porter before it sells out – oh no, another trip to Canmore seems in order!)

Coffee shops? Check! Whenever we are passing through, we often (always?) stop at Le Fournil Bakery. Here you will find some of the best flaky pastries outside Quebec – that could be an exaggeration because we haven’t tried all the pastries in or out of Quebec, but the mission is ongoing – and excellent coffee. A quick stop often turns into a longer stop, and you might as well buy a baguette or a croissant or two for cabin breakfast the next day…

If you’re heading to a cabin, won’t you need something to read when you’re sipping your evening session ale by the wood stove? Independent bookstore? Check! If you’re down to the last chapter or two of your current read and didn’t pack another book, no worries. After your coffee, stroll over to Cafebooks and choose your next great read. It’s comfortable in there, and perhaps you’ll pause for (another!) cup of coffee, or tea. Go on, the cabin isn’t going anywhere, you’ve got time…

Hungry? Maybe more time passed in the bookstore than you realized, and you fancy something to eat before moving on? Great restaurants? Check! I’m biased on this one, because Junior trained and worked at The Crazyweed Restaurant, but even if she hadn’t, I’d recommend lunch or dinner here. Great menu, good beer and wine selections, and an easy walk from where our Canmore buddies live, so no short straw game for choosing the designated driver. There are many great dining options in Canmore, but they didn’t train the next big thing in the culinary arts, so no mention for them…

Alright, maybe that’s enough – I’m not being paid or sponsored by the town tourism board – but I really like Canmore! It is a lovely example of a small mountain town, and fun to visit in any season. Biking, hiking, climbing, paddling a canoe, clinging onto a raft in whitewater, skiing, snowshoeing, snowboarding, xc skiing, camping, horse riding, or simply wandering about the town, Canmore is a great base for Rocky Mountain adventures. (I get pleasantly exhausted just reading that list!) You could spend a week or two, make it a weekend visit, or a quick stop on a longer trip, and you’ll always want to return. You might even want to make Canmore your permanent home – this is what our friends did after many years of vacation visits. Good choice!

Thanks for reading, and if you’ve a favourite small town to recommend, mountains or not, feel free to share it in the comments. Have a wonderful weekend!

A murderously early spring? (Is it really winter?)

A strange blog post title – what’s going on? Best answer these questions, PlaidCamper.

I thought I’d write this a few months early, as winter appears to have come and gone, and Calgary is gripped by an early spring. Temperatures hitting 12C (!) the next couple of days, and last time I checked the 14 day forecast, the seasonal daytime high of 0C won’t be happening until late December. If this keeps up, expect a photograph of a daffodil next week…

Calgary has spring, and I’ve had man flu – very disappointing to have a winter affliction when it isn’t even winter outside. Doesn’t seem fair. Luckily, I’d never complain about the weather, and likewise, I’d never complain about feeling under the weather. Nope, I may be gripped by man flu, or worse, but you won’t hear a peep. Perhaps a sniff, sneeze, cough, and a small whimper, but that’s about all.

Having been confined to my sick bed (or sofa), I thought I’d recommend a couple of movies where winter does make an appearance. It’s the only snow we’ve seen for a while.

Let’s start with Wind River (dir. Taylor Sheridan, VVS 2017), one of the few decent movies for grown ups (they let me in) released since the summer, worth your time if you enjoy a slow burn story, arresting scenery, and great performances. Sheridan wrote this, and he wrote Sicario and Hell or High Water, also good movies. If you’ve seen the others, you’ll know Sheridan enjoys a stand off. The characters he creates aren’t always the most immediately accessible or likeable, but you’ll care about them when the stand off occurs.

In Wind River, we start with death on a reservation, followed by death in the past, then more death on a reservation, and finishing up with a bit more death high above a Wyoming reservation. It isn’t the most cheerful of movies, although there are glimmers of hope in the troubled lives of key characters. The story touches on family grief, notions of justice, wasted lives, greed over resource extraction, racial tension, friendship and duplicity. Fortunately, there is also a sprinkling of deadpan humour. And lots and lots of snow. All this in less than two hours, and it is a taut little mystery.

fullsizeoutput_4ca — Snow in the city! A happy memory…

Elizabeth Olsen and Jeremy Renner are convincing in their roles, Renner as a hunter, Olsen as a rookie FBI agent. We can thank Sheridan as writer for avoiding what could have been a horribly cliched relationship between these two. The smaller roles are well cast and well acted, and the snowy mountain landscapes are beautiful. When the mystery of what happened to the original victim is revealed in a long flashback, it adds to the drama of what happens next. Great storytelling.

If all the gloomy death and despair of Wind River isn’t for you, then let me recommend a different movie. Be warned, it also features death, but there is far more fun to be had in Murder on the Orient Express (dir. Kenneth Branagh, 20th Century Fox 2017), if you are ok with watching a retelling of a story told countless times before.

fullsizeoutput_4cd — Train glamour (and snow)

I wasn’t too sure about seeing this one. I’d seen a trailer, and it was a touch off-putting. That moustache! The hammy-sounding Brit accents (I have one of those) and ‘eavy Belgian prrro-nun-cee-ation. Hmm – cliche and scenery-chewing alert!

Well, it was a blast! It’s hard to complain about a wonderfully familiar cast of good actors clearly enjoying themselves. Branagh is confident marshalling his players, giving each just enough space to shine.

The train is rolling through striking mountain scenery when a disaster strikes! It is stuck on a huge trestle bridge suspended over a deep, deep gorge after an avalanche blocks the track, derailing the steam engine. There is lots and lots of snow. There is a murder! Poirot has to solve the case before the avalanche is cleared, the engine restored, and the train is able to continue.

fullsizeoutput_4cc — Mist, not steam (and sn- ok, I’ll stop now)

In what is essentially a one set movie after the murder occurs, the delights are in the encounters Branagh’s Poirot has with character after character. The movie isn’t derailed and the story doesn’t run out of steam, even if you know what happens. Branagh himself gives a distinctive performance as Poirot, humanizing him behind the huge whiskers and sharp detective intellect.

This movie is good to look at! As well as the colourful period costumes, the train’s interiors are glorious, all cut glass, wooden sheen, crisp tablecloths and gleaming silverware. This is a throwback movie, old-fashioned yet revelling in subverting an age that wasn’t as golden or glamorous as it appears. A fun film, if a story about murder is allowed to be fun.

fullsizeoutput_2ff — I hope it is winter where you are!

There you have it, a couple of deeply different movies to enjoy on a dark winter (fake spring?) evening if you are feeling sorry for yourself with a bit of a cold. Thank goodness I was able to get a winter fix, even if it took a murder or two and some CGI…

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!

A little detour (waiting for winter)

I got all excited a few weeks ago because there was an early blast of winter at the start of November. Since then it has been somewhat disappointing (if you enjoy snow) with barely a flurry and higher than average temperatures. Several Chinooks have eaten what snow there was, and the forecast for the next couple of weeks doesn’t hold much promise. Still, being so close to the mountains, that could change…

Oh yes, the mountains, there’s snow out there! A few weeks ago we took a little detour in Mount Revelstoke National Park, and drove up the Meadows in the Sky Parkway, wondering if there’d be snow up top in early October, and looking for a place to eat a picnic lunch. We didn’t see snow, but we did have expansive views and fall colours to enjoy, and there was a hint of snow on higher peaks all around.

The Parkway is a very pleasant drive. In summer there are meadows of wildflowers, but I’m told there are also large crowds, so go early or late in the day. Or go in the shoulder seasons, when flowers aren’t likely, but it’ll be quiet, as it was on the day we were there. At midday, there were only a few other cars sharing the winding switchback road to the top. There is a change from cedar rainforest on the low slopes to alpine fir and spruce, and at the top you’ll find fragile high alpine growth. There are a few short loops and there and back trails to explore. The summit trail was closed due to a bear in the area. It’s lovely up there, and home to a few happy bears, not that we saw any.

A quick trip back to earlier this fall, and a time when we were anticipating snow. Let’s hope December delivers – once the fall colour is gone, it’s best to put on some snow!

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!

A long stretch

Sounds like a prison sentence, but it wasn’t confining, far from it. A short piece this week, about a short walk taken a short distance from home.

We’ve had fluctuating temperatures and a few more bits and pieces of snow, so the freeze, slight thaw, and refreeze has made some of the back roads slightly slick already. I like the slip and slide of tires as the car searches for grip, it means winter is truly upon us.

We went to an open stretch of space, one of the nearest to where we live in the city, Glenbow Ranch Provincial Park. Only a half hour trip by car, and we were treated to a long stretch, mentally, and a short stretch, physically. What a sight! Rolling foothills with a light dusting of snow, and beyond the hills, the mountains reaching up in the distance.

The day was windy to start, and even more blustery out of the city and on exposed hillsides, but the brisk cold and long views underneath blue skies were invigorating.

Close up, under our noses, the view was pretty good, with patches of red berries, and clumps of golden grass poking through the snow. Small beauties to smile over. Then there was the big picture, with the snow both smoothing the landscape and highlighting the contours away and away and away. How can a view like this be contained in a camera phone image? I couldn’t do it!

Face west, reach out and stretch wide to the south, and the mountains recede into the distance, beyond fingertips. Do the same to the north, and the same thing. So much to embrace, more than you can hold. What a range!

There was a search and rescue team out in the park, wonderful people, training and honing their essential skills. They were stopping to study tracks, looking for signs of their “missing” person, and asked if we’d seen anyone in difficulty? We hadn’t, although it was difficult to return to the car – it wouldn’t have been too bad to stay out a bit longer, be just a little bit lost.

A short walk a short distance from home that provided long, long views – it’s no stretch to say we are lucky to be where we are.

Thanks for reading – I hope you get a chance to stretch outdoors – and have a wonderful weekend!

	Maria on A short trip…
	plaidcamper on A short trip…
	Maria on A short trip…
	plaidcamper on Striding out…
	plaidcamper on Winter mountain hush