Photo Medley

Here are photos from the last few weeks that I love but that don’t really fit into a particular theme or were left over from a specific post.

A November Japanese garden …

… Okanagan Lake at night. I think it’s very photogenic at any time …

… a collection of raindrop leaves and pine needles at the edge of a pond …

… a Japanese maple …

… yellowing cottonwood trees at Penticton Creek …

… and a canopy of big leaf maple leaves.

Happy Wednesday.

Monochrome Madness

Today – for the first time – I’m participating in Leanne Cole’s Monochrome Madness. If you’re interested in participating as well, please go to Leanne’s site to see what’s coming up. This week doesn’t have a theme so you can post whatever you would like.

I’ve done a bit of experimentation with monochrome by converting colour photos through Lightroom; others in my collection are naturally monochromatic winter photos and are three of the ones I’m posting here.

Winter eagle

An eagle pair lives near our home and has a couple of favoured perching trees that aren’t far from our deck. In January of 2024 I saw one of them doing some territorial surveying during a very wet snow fall that later turned to rain.

Okanagan Lake

This blue hour photo was taken just after nightfall in early February, 2024. I particularly like the almost perfect reflection in the lake’s surface.

Photo by permission from Dana Coates

The above photo isn’t mine but I’m including it because it’s such an unusual example of a naturally pink monochromatic photo. This is a rare pink fog – there were no filters applied to this picture.

Heavy moisture content in the air caused the blue wavelengths of the rising sun to be scattered out, resulting in a pink fog. Further up the Okanagan valley, the fog was actually red. This incredibly rare phenomenon didn’t last long; only about 10 minutes.

A small flock of coots swim through a monotone December day from 2024.

It was fun looking through my archive for appropriate monotone photos. I hope you enjoy them.

Mountain Valley Cloud

During late autumn we begin getting a lot of valley cloud that can envelop us for days at a time in a sort of luminous cotton ball.

On average, the Okanagan Valley is about 230 metres (754 ft) deep and during late autumn and winter, a thermal inversion occurs which is a thick, low-lying layer of cloud that stops up the valley like a cork in a bottle.

It typically arrives around now and can be unrelenting until about mid-February. While it protects our wine grapes and fruit trees from the winter low temperatures that most of the rest of the country experiences and usually gives us mild, snowless winters, it can also ground air traffic and impact mental health when the sun is blotted out for weeks on end. 

Although this phenomenon is common wherever deep mountain valleys can be found, the valley floor’s 132 km (82 miles) long Okanagan Lake contributes to the strength of its effects and causes it to be extremely stubborn here in the Okanagan. So, other than visiting a sunny southern country or sitting in front of a sunlight lamp, how do we get a rest from all that cloud?

Well, one thing we do is to visit a ski resort for lunch. We are surrounded by mountains that have a corresponding number of ski hills high enough to be quite far above the valley cloud, so since we don’t ski any more, we go for lunch to enjoy the sun and blue skies. It’s a lovely break from the overcast.

Another thing I find helpful is to look for the remaining autumn colours.

This cotoneaster is brilliant as is the barberry pictured below.

There are also the seasonal lights – coming soon – that brighten these shorter, grey days.

Light decorations on a city park tree, December, 2024.

Although many people are really affected by the grey conditions that usually develop here during the winter, I find that it does have its own beauty.

January, 2025

The clouds themselves as they hang on the sides of the valley and puff over the lake are lustrously pearlescent and their shapes gorgeous, and given how they protect the valley during the coldest months, I think that’s a fair trade-off.

Happy Monday.

Wind Clear

We have had lots of wind over the last couple of months; much more than normal. That pattern seems to be quietening now that we’re closer to winter, but we’re still experiencing the occasional windy day.

We had another one recently and it cleared away some cloud that had been lingering; you can see the streaky sky in the picture above.

The clear air also gave us a pink toned evening before it became dark and the wind died off.

Happy Sunday.

November 14’s Friday Fleurday

So, the flower pickings have dwindled a lot, but I did find some for today’s post.

The always-lovely chrysanthemums are starting to fade now, but they have been very cheery through the wind and rain that we’ve often experienced this autumn.

I also found some asters in a protected spot; they’re looking quite perky considering that it’s almost mid-November!

A few pretty dianthus are still blooming among the falling leaves, too.

And lastly, a couple of anemones provided a sweet memory of summer.

Happy Friday; I hope your weekend blooms beautifully. 🌼

Lace Leaf Maples

Lace leaf, weeping or red dragon maples (acer palmatum dissectum) are native to Korea, China, Japan, Mongolia and southeast Russia; however, they are now grown all over the world and prized for their lovely shape, delicate lacy or feathery leaves and beautiful colours.

They only grow to about 2-3 metres (6-9 ft) or less (the ones pictured are only about half that height), so they really are more shrub-like than tree-like. They take on a dome shape when they reach full maturity which makes them appear to be “weeping.”

In autumn they turn the most glorious crimson red which will gradually fade into pink or rusty red before they drop their leaves in December.

The colour is so intense that they almost seem to glow, especially when the sun shines on them.

Red is my favourite colour, so I find myself particularly drawn to them.

An April 15, 2025, lace leaf maple.

After their dormant winter period, they re-emerge in late March or April with brownish-red leaves that eventually turn quite red before morphing into green for summer.

A transitioning lace leaf; June 5, 2025.

Lace leaf maples are not only beautiful, they are also quite compact and will work well in small gardens. They’re winter tolerant to zones 5a and 5b.

For most of the year they add so much visual interest and stunning colour to a garden. Isn’t nature grand?

A lace leaf shifts from early autumn to late autumn dress; November 4, 2025.

Happy Thursday.

Sometimes, life is like that.