My favourite walking trail occupies a former rail corridor that was turned into a terrific path after it was abandoned by Canadian Pacific Railway when the line began losing money. This trail is now known as the KVR trail, short for Kettle Valley Railway Trail.
Stopping for a coffee sip.
There is a very gentle grade as the trail climbs above the valley, and the views at the top are amazing.
The view from above.
The trial encompasses hundreds of kilometres and is extremely popular with hikers and cyclists. Overnighting is permitted in certain areas if you plan to do a long trip.
Vineyards and orchards …
We have done most of the distance between Penticton and Kelowna (76 km) but only in chunks. We are planning to do all of it in the future as a three-day trip.
It was another hot day today as we shuffle, literally, through this extreme “heat dome” that has settled over most of western North America. Anything more than a shuffle is to invite heat stroke, heart attacks, and profound, sweat-soaked enervation.
But going out early will work. M and I avoided the soaring 42°C (108F) temps that occurred later in the day by leaving for our walk before 8. When we stopped for a rest and water drink, this is the view we saw.
Even in early morning, there’s a heat haze.
We are very fortunate to live across the street from this park with its fabulous swimming beach, and in the upcoming weeks, I plan to spend a lot of time there with several good books.
Here in the subarctic north, our daylight hours are now at their zenith. For my local area, that means that sunset is at 11:38 p.m. and sunrise is at 3:39 a.m. That’s four hours of “darkness,” sort of. The dark we get is actually quite twilight-ish. I have spent time further north where there’s no darkness at all, but as I get older I find myself more sensitive to that.
From now on, our daylight hours will become shorter and shorter until we reach the December 21 solstice, when the sun will rise at 10:07 a.m. and set at 3:04 p.m.
We are very much governed by light. The fading of light, the darkness, can cause us to hunker down, to contract in on ourselves as we protect ourselves from the perceived dangers inherent in the darkness.
But the same is true of too much light; it’s just in the obverse. Light-induced insomnia that leads to a loss of mental acuity and a sort of stunned passivity is equally as dangerous. We can all recognise when someone is suffering from spring and/or summer insomnia. The dazed, stupefied stare is enough.
Sunset
But darkness gets a very bad rap. It represents danger, evil, and malevolence while light represents purity, freedom, and clarity.
They both have their drawbacks and delights. The winter solstice means that there are great winter celebrations and gatherings and invigorating coolness while the light means that there’s warmth and green plants and lovely sun-soaking.
I think that people are the same. We have both dark and light, and neither is completely good or bad. They act in a complex tandem interplay, creating velvety shadows or glaring light. One without the other?
Then there’s no beauty. We need them together in their symbiotic interdependence.
In the Net! - Pictures and Stories of Life 