Oh Boya, was this a great reprieve from the previous night
As we drive North the fauna is changing
The evergreens are getting smaller and the flowers on the fireweed, (my indicator of season) are working their way up the stalk. When first blooming, fireweed is stubby with few buds. As the summer moves toward fall the plant gets taller and taller and the flowers are seen only on the tippy top), are inching their way up the stalk.
There’s a great variety of flowers and I take advantage of our rest stops to add to my bouquet
Too blustery for the poodles to swim!
One of the many flowers…
BOYA LAKE PROVINCIAL PARK
Arrived at our next camping sit late in day. It was getting to be dusk but after setting up camp we still had time for a nice long hike. One took us around a beaver pond
The haunting call of a loon moved over the water. I always feel lucky and privileged when I hear these birds. They’re only found in remote areas and to me it’s like seeing a falling star or finding a four leafed clover. They’re evasive birds and there was no chance for a sighting so I couldn’t identify what type it was. I’m sure Sherry would have been able to get a picture. Go ahead, tell me about all the loon shots you’ve gotten… ;^)
Water is crystal clear and the color of the tropics. The deep areas are dark blue but the islands and shores are pure turquoise. I’ve never seen such clear water in a lake. I just couldn’t get a pic to do it justice.
The rain has finally let up and if the sun comes out I may stay another day… I’m thinking of renting a canoe…
I’m struck by the smell of gas as I boiled water for dinner. This is the first time using the stove and the odor is slightly haunting and familiar. I realize that it’s the smell of a back country camp stove. Propane and fire. It brings back deep emotional feelings…. feelings more than memories. It’s comforting and exciting at the same time. I think back to the beginnings of my wilderness experiences. The first few years in New Hampshire when I was learning to back pack and camp, I never cooked. It was trail mix and sandwiches. Once I moved to Washington and began my more remote and extended trips I learned how to cook on a MRS camp stove. A stove the size of a cigarette lighter. Boy could that baby put out some BTU’s. Here I am, in a camper, surrounded by walls, heat, lighting and a pre-made bed. I’m still not sure if I like it or not.