Just about a perfect day

After last week's heavy rains, which seem to have cleared the smoke from our skies, today feels just about perfect. 

Temps are warm enough to not need a jacket or sweater, and the sky couldn't be bluer. 

The quince are now getting ripe. In fact, I can smell the scent of them wafting through the house as the Dear Man is making a big pot of quince-ade, a delicious and refreshing drink that I associate with this time of year. 

Yesterday was World Rivers Day this year dedicated to the salmon, our wonderfully important (and delicious) fish whose stocks have become so sadly depleted. 

But today I am happily celebrating World Rivers Day again, albeit a bit belatedly, as it seems I'm no longer so alone-feeling when it comes to questioning the sense of going ahead with the Site C project. A letter from people who matter cites many of the reasons it's time for this project to stop. It seems that our beloved Peace may indeed soon get the respect (and the reprieve) it deserves. This is a cause I've been concerned about for quite a few years. 

As part of my wanting to celebrate and to belatedly pay tribute to World Rivers Day, here's a short video with yes, the sound of a river, always such a comfort to me -- something to enjoy, a little piece of memorabilia from our recent camping trip, this time the sounds of the Similkameen.  

Change-o-rama

Just back from a week away -- off-grid and offline -- what a pleasurable way to spend time! Out in the forest, with ravens and plenty of ground squirrels in evidence (not sure what's in the image above -- kitty? big squirrel?) and fortunately, despite cautions, no bears. 

Most of the time we were camping in Manning Park, a great place for hiking easy trails and just plain

relaxxxing. 

Nearly everywhere, I kept finding interesting rock art. As I so often do, I took waaaay too many photos of these, but it was hard not to, as every time I saw one, it just seemed too fun to ignore. 

One of my favourites was this 'abstract' one which may well have been an 
accident, or might have even served as someone's painter's palette or drip-catcher. I'll never know. 

Coming home serves as a change -- back to the nice, big queen-size bed and of course, electricity and water on demand (hot even!). 

Tomorrow marks another change: the autumn equinox occurs early in the morning when I trust I'll still be sleeping. I doubt that the day will look much different, as leaves have been turning and temps have been cooling down for a while, but the new season will be official. 

But oh -- an even bigger change is coming here in BC. We're having an election. And I think quite a few of us aren't sure it's a great idea. 

One constant that we've been told will endure, even if our government is changing, will be the steadfast reporting of updates from our provincial health officer, Dr Bonnie Henry. One point of continuity will be her regular updates when she always includes her oh-so-quotable mantra, which even showed up on yet another example of rock art in the woods. 

Not quite an eclipse

Not a solar eclipse, there isn't one coming this way for a few years, but light from this afternoon's sun is definitely occluded. These smoky skies are the result of fires to the south of us, in Washington state, and probably from Oregon and California as well. So much of the West Coast is burning -- yet again, only this time worse than ever. 

Among reasons for this season's mega-fires is, of course, climate change with its much drier summers. Another contributing factor may also be the fact that when we replant a forest after it's been logged, we generally plant a single species (a monoculture) to replace what was probably a more natural, mixed forest. 

Earlier today, when the sun was directly overhead and shining through the skylights, it cast an almost orangey glow onto the wood floors. 

About the only word that comes to mind for it? Eerie. 

Then and now...

Today's the first day of school in our province. It's just teachers today, with students heading to classrooms on Thursday.  

Because I used to work in schools, those first-day jitters still have an effect on me. And last night I had the dream of being back there -- only not in a way that was fun (seeing colleagues and students, happy to be back together). This was definitely a nightmare. 

Similar to other anxiety dreams I sometimes have, it was all about not being prepared. 

I was in the high school library where I spent my happiest school years, but I was teaching an English (or maybe Socials?) class, and I completely lost any sense of control. The kids were definitely the ones who were in charge, and the situation was complicated by a few senior students who'd decided that, since it was the library (open to all), they could sit in the midst of the other students and talk as if they were the only ones around. 

When I woke up, I was relieved at it being a dream, but it made me think how much times have changed. 

Students used to take pencils and notebooks to class. Now the 'notebook' is a laptop, and they're also packing hand sanitizer and packets of cleansing towelettes. 

As for the calculator, if you look closely up top, there's a pencil box with a sharpener tucked into one end. Looking even more closely, you might see a sliding 'bar' along the ruler that tops the box. It served as a non-mechanical calculator of sorts, back in the dark ages when I was in Grade Three. You slid the bar along the ruler and could find answers to the times tables, numbers we eventually had to memorize. 

Not quite a 'slide rule' (an object I never mastered), and certainly not something today's students would have on their list of school supplies to keep in their backpacks. 

There but for the grace, etc. go I during these challenging days. And hallelujah, just about three o'clock -- time for the bell. Bless 'em all, and may they be safe.