I’ve been taking a break from the northern -20° climes …
… and experiencing much warmer weather in the Okanagan Valley of British Columbia. 17°C to be exact.
This is the NK’Mip First Nation winery and resort just outside of Osoyoos. M and I didn’t stay there (or swim in the pool), but we did stop for a really fantastic lunch. Osoyoos is about 45 minutes’ drive – through stunning wine country – from our home.
The grape vines are still dozing, but they will soon be fully awake.
After buying some favourite wines, we moseyed back. This photo is of a reflection over Osoyoos Lake.
Here it is again, right side up.
Having a break from the continuing cold weather in the north has been wonderful. *Sigh* 🙂
It’s March! And unlike some other places in North America, the weather has been very stable here. According to the old saying, March came in like a lamb, but it has remained very lamb-like with bright sun that just has that budding spring quality to it. I hope it doesn’t go out like a lion. 🙂
It’s gradually been getting warmer – we’ve had two days together of +2°C – with some minor melting occurring. Standing in the sun has been very pleasant and after all the cold, it feels really wonderful.
Still, we’re choked with snow, even though the warming temperatures have caused it to compress and pack.
This is a photo of the beach at our part of Great Slave Lake. You really can’t tell where the beach ends and the lake starts, although you can get an idea from the placement of the lifeguard’s chair.
Soon, however, the fact that our days are lengthening quickly – with the time change it now gets dark at about 8:00 – will bring about a sudden tipping point, and all that snow will melt rapidly.
The southern parts seem to be experiencing extreme ups and downs in temperature and precipitation, but here we are seeing a gradual climb into a lovely spring.
Has your spring started? Is it a lamb or a lion? Or are you heading into autumn now?
On a recent -40C morning, I was impressed by the blanketed quiet and ice fog-dominated atmosphere. The only sound was the crackling of my clothing and bag as they became deep-freeze cold. It was dark as I walked to work, but later as the sun began to rise, it looked like this:
Visibility wasn’t great until the day started lightening and it became a little warmer. It was one of those mornings that produced some rather heavily frost-encrusted eyelashes. When I came inside, I briefly held them with my fingers to melt the ice.
Hiding under all that fog was an intensely blue sky and the whitest white snow, almost blue itself. It turned into a very beautiful day with almost blindingly bright sun, even though it was incredibly cold outside.
A couple of weeks ago we did some dogsitting for a friend of ours. Nan is a northern girl who looks to be half Exquimaux or Siberian husky and half German shepherd. She is very tall with incredibly slim delicate features and very soft fur.
No matter what her DNA says, she’s an amazingly even-tempered pooch who could probably turn the most determined dog-disliking person into a canine advocate. Gentle and cuddly, she loves to play and run and be fussed over and petted.
I’m afraid that M and I spoiled her just a little bit.
Of course, we’re missing our Rudy who passed away a couple of years ago, but maybe it’s time to bring another canine friend into our lives. 🙂
Right now we are surviving temperatures that are about -35 C. That’s pretty cold although I have experienced colder. When it’s this cold, it’s hard to remember that summer existed. It’s just a dim memory.
I pass this bush every day on my way to work.
And yup, I walk to work. Driving is not worth the trouble it would cause to start a vehicle.
It’s so cold that they have to be plugged in. And then there’s the scraping of windshields, the running of engines and the effort to get them out of the latest layer of new snow, even if I do have a 4×4. Needless to say, I don’t have a garage, which ironically, is something I’ve always had in the south. Up here, there aren’t many of them. For them to be of any real use you would have to heat them, and that makes them very expensive.
So, I walk to work. It takes seven minutes to get my gear on, seven minutes to walk there, it’s dark, and every bit of me is covered except my eyes. I peer under my big hat and over my balaclava. I’m under the time limit for frostbite to exposed skin in -35C, although a little wind can rapidly change that formula. A few days ago, I thought I had frostbite on my cheek, but no, it was just rather cold.
Everything is slower and takes longer. It’s life in the north. 🙂
You might see a little something, but you will have to enlarge it – a lot.
Living north of 60 degrees N latitude means that the Aurora is spectacular. From the south, the Aurora assumes a fairly standard curtain-like shape. It hangs there high in the sky, its undulating green hem twinkling in the solar breeze. But It’s not always readily visible from the south (and by south I mean southern Canada). There’s light pollution, the earth’s position and distance to consider.
From here, however, it’s a different story. It’s a living shape – swirling into seashells and lodgepoles and disappearing into the horizon in a smoky streak.
You can see stars through it.
So, why don’t I have a better photo to share with you? Well, it’s a long story. Actually, no. It’s not. It’s a simple story.
I forgot my camera. Again.
My M and I were driving back from grocery shopping – we have to drive an hour and a half for that – and we had made a bit of an evening of it, too. A meal in a restaurant, like that.
It was about 10 pm when we started back and by then it was completely dark – a great opportunity to see and photograph the Aurora.
But the photo you see here was taken using my cell phone, and with something like the Aurora, that doesn’t work.
So I was a little pissed at myself for not bringing my camera, even though I knew there was a good chance that I would see the Northern Lights.
Essentially, I didn’t do my due diligence.
Sometimes, that’s not important. It winds up just being irritating. But at other times, it can be downright dangerous. You wouldn’t want to fly with a pilot who hadn’t done her due diligence, for instance.
And then there’s the inbetween. Where you’re warned that you need to pay attention, that you’re getting complacent, that there is potential danger. For instance, that maybe your ex-narcissist is still lurking, still checking, still trying.
That happened to me last June.
All of a sudden, there he was, demanding my attention.
I hadn’t thought about him in any real way in a long time. Yes, I’d written about my experiences with him, but from the perspective that he was out of my life, that my chances of any kind of contact with him were becoming more and more remote with the passage of time.
But then, in June, he started actively trying to find me. And the indirectness of his actions scared me because his past attempts to re-establish contact had been very front and centre.
He went to my last workplace, claiming to be my spouse and asking for directions to my office. HR denied him any information and then phoned to let me know – the person he spoke with knew he wasn’t my husband and also didn’t like the vibe she got from him. So she took it upon herself to phone a former employee to give a heads up.
Then there was Dan, my son’s dad. We hadn’t spoken in a long time, but he phoned to tell me that Harry, my ex-narcissist, had called him looking for my address. Dan was concerned because he knew that I had experienced a lot of trouble with Harry.
Two warnings. Both from people who didn’t have to do anything.
Harry’s indirect approach had me worried. This behaviour told me he was planning some sort of trap or ambush. M advised me to go to the police.
I was in the process of organising that in my head when … my phone rang.
It was Harry.
There was an immediate ten minutes of non-stop murmle, murmle, murmle. It came pouring out of him, like a rusty faucet disgorging a hundred years of mind-filth: I’m doing this, that, this, that – it’s so good, it’s so good, it’s so good our relationship was great, was great, was great, you were so good, so generous, so good I’m sorry, sorry, sorry, so sorry I went to your work looking for you isn’t the Okanagan great? it’s so great, so great, so great things aren’t going as well as I thought for me the weather is great so great it’s great it’s all great may I darken your door again? when I think about it we had a great situation it was a great situation great situation, so comfortable so comfortable let’s meet for coffee.
See where that went???
My response: Harry. I’m sorry to hear that things are not going well for you right now. I’m not in the Okanagan. I am in the middle of moving to Winnipeg (fabrication) to start a research project at the university there (fabrication). I’ve bought a house there (fabrication). I wish you well.
I quickly ended the call after making the point that I was (really) unavailable. Then I immediately changed my phone number. I had blocked his previous number but he had changed it – the only thing to do was to change mine.
I think I was lucky. I had warnings. The people he contacted didn’t give him any information. I actually wasn’t in the Okanagan while he was looking for me there. And lastly, I don’t think he was overtly looking for vengeance.
In the end, he was probably only looking for a place to hang his hat and was just running through a list of possibles. I don’t know how far down the list I was and it doesn’t matter.
But this event says a couple of things. One is that like the cat who keeps coming back, you never know when or where your old narcissist is going to materialise. Which reminds me – be sure to keep careful track of your online presence. That’s how Harry had firstly attempted to find me again – through an online reference. When it comes to the internet, you can’t be too cautious.
And the other is that you should never leave home without your camera. Who knows; you might need to photograph the Aurora Borealis.