Have you ever taken part in any courses where you attempt to get a clear picture of whether your life is balanced or not, as you live it now? The ones where you divide your life into important priorities like family, spirituality, finances, health and so on, then make decisions based on where you need to improve. Well, I have in the past, and it never seemed to really make much difference to how I lived. It pointed out what parts of my life  were lacking attention, but aside from that I couldn't see that it helped me change anything. Probably just me and my weird way of thinking, but there seemed to be too many things to focus on and it felt counter-productive. Don't misunderstand - I am thankful that it helped me see where I wasn't giving my attention, and there were other benefits so I am glad that I have been through the process, but there seemed to be something missing for me personally. But recently I was going through some NLP (neuro-linguistic programming) questions and things finally fell in to place.

Through a series of questions I came to a point where I was asking myself what I could do to sort my priorities into time slots with better productivity as the result. In the process I had come up with three categories: things that were important for my well-being; things that were fun; things that made use of my creative abilities.  Under the well-being category would be 'must-do' things to keep the house and car in order, my choice of food to eat and the amount of exercise I get. Things that are fun would include activities with family and friends and travel. And last, but certainly not least, would be exercising my creative talents, whether it be art or photography or sewing or decorating it really doesn't matter - just being creative. There are of course many things that are interconnected but this method made a whole lot more sense to me. It's either good for my health, my soul or my spirit.

Once I have put my question into the right category, which is easy to do when I only have three to choose from, then I can make a decision on how much value it will add to my life in that area. Say for example I have a choice of going out and taking pictures or washing the kitchen floor. Taking new photos is going to add loads more value to my creative side than washing the floor will to my well-being. I know, that one is a no-brainer that doesn't need thinking about, but I just wanted an easy example.

So that is why sometimes things don't get done around here when other people might think they maybe should be. And I must say, life is good. What is important to me gets taken care of first, and the other things fall in to place when they need to. It's a stress free lifestyle and I love it.

So what about the financial end of things? The spirituality? Work or business? They  all fall under these categories in one place or another, and are some of the things that are interconnected - they benefit by my focusing on more than one area.  The spiritual side of me benefits most when I am being creative, because for me that time is a direct connection with the energies of the universe, but it also benefits when I am having fun and when I am taking care of my well-being. For example if I am doing pilates or tai chi it is a time when the focus is on the energy flowing within myself. And if I am out having fun with friends and family or listening to some great music at a jazz or blues festival, I am connected to the energies of the universe once again in the laughter, the connections with other people, and the music.

In the same way, how I perform in my work and the financial results I achieve benefit from how well I look after myself and how much I exercise my creativity. It's all one interconnected circle of life, but now that I can see it from this point of view, it is much easier to make quick decisions on what I am going to do in the moment, and not have pangs of guilt hovering in the back of my mind because I am playing and not working. Those pangs of guilt come from being raised with the idea that idle hands indicate an idle mind, which was very appropriate for a lifestyle lead by the dictates of farming or homesteading but is not really applicable to a lifestyle of creativity. Creativity requires a connection to the spirit, and if I am too involved in heavy physical labour requiring my full attention, the creative voice becomes quiet. Sometimes my hands need to be idle. And that idea had been hard for me to accept without the guilt until I started looking at things differently.

This is my own way of looking at things - everyone has their personal viewpoint and corresponding hurdles to leap. But I thought perhaps in talking about it, it may resonate with someone else and help them find a different perspective on their own challenges.

Reflections on a sunny day.

Same lake, different point of view. It changes your thoughts about the lake. Rather than a pretty body of water, you see it as a place to relax in the shade or have a picnic.

Same lake again, but from this point of view you start thinking about taking out the boat or laying on the beach and popping in for a swim now and then.

It's all in the perspective that you view things from. Each perspective engenders different thoughts and feelings. If you look at your life from a different point of view now and then, it may help you to see positive aspects you previously missed.

Was sitting quietly on the bench above the little lake in the habitat area the other day, taking a few photos, enjoying the sun and thinking. Watching. Had been there for quiet a while - 20 minutes or more.

I heard the dried reeds at the edge of the water rustling and looked down towards where the sound was coming from but couldn't see anything. First thought that went through my brain was that it was the ducks squabbling with each other in there - but there wasn't much quacking going on, so I looked more intently. The noise got louder and closer but still nothing visible.  Though I kept scanning the reeds none of them were moving.

Usually, when there is something of any size moving through reeds or grasses, even if you can't see the critter, you can see the tops of the grasses moving - but  I couldn't see any movement at all. I was getting very curious so I stood up on the bench and watched even more closely. Still nothing but rustling reeds.

Suddenly I noticed a brown animal loping out of the reeds and head behind a fallen tree trunk. My brain immediately matched what I had fleetingly seen against the picture in my head of a moving cougar and came up with a negative on that one, so my heart slowed down again. It was just a coyote. So I watched where he had run to, behind the tree trunk, and waited. He came out and quickly moved sideways, sort of in my direction to the grasses, and after a fleeting glance at me, lowered himself and completely disappeared.

I wasn't sure whether he was moving towards me, away from me, or laying still. And I was sure he was watching me, even though I couldn't see him. Having encountered coyotes before I wasn't concerned, but curious. I kept scanning the area and waiting. Finally I saw him again, watching me, then crouching down and disappearing - this time a little farther around the hill, and I began to feel like I was being circled.

Spooky.

I coughed a few times rather loudly and made a bunch of noise but still didn't see him run off. So, just in case, I picked up my camera equipment, slung my backpack on,  pocketed a few decent sized rocks and began my trek away from the grassy area where it was more open, moving in his general direction but not directly at him.  Once I got to the rise where it was open and mostly sage and a few pines I stood for quite a while and watched but he didn't show again. Don't know if he ran off as I was leaving, or was still hiding in the grasses. His colouring is an exact match for the dry grass and weeds of the arid country around him and he blends in perfectly, becoming invisible.

Any previous encounters I have had with coyotes have involved them briefly  checking me out and then carrying on in the direction they were originally heading. This one was definitely acting differently and my senses were on guard. I know that there have been some coyote/human confrontations in large cities, and in some places can become a problem if there is over-population and food can be found in populated neighbourhoods, but out here where natural food is plentiful we don't often see them. Usually if we do, they are running across a field or from one side of the highway to the other. They don't need to come in to populated areas, and still have their fear of humans.

I think what intrigued me most about the encounter was how my own senses became alert. I wasn't just looking and listening - there was much more going on. I was receiving signals and impulses and my brain was working overtime. By the time I was consciously aware of what I had seen when I first spotted him, my brain had already decided it wasn't a cougar, but a coyote, and I could sense him. I was scanning the area, but still somehow I knew exactly where he was even though I couldn't see him. If I hadn't had the sense that he was exactly in that spot I never would have seen him lift up to look at me between the blades of grass. It was only a momentary flash, but I was looking right at him when I needed to be.

There are so many ways we take in information on a moment to moment basis, and we seldom consider that. If we meet someone we don't like we will attribute the dislike to something visual or verbal. The same goes for people we like. But there is so much more going on. Sometimes it takes an encounter like this in nature to remind me of how tuned-in I can be, and to pay more attention to the other signals I get. I am, after all, just another part of the natural world with built in survival mechanisms. I don't want to lose that capacity.

This is where I was looking when I heard the rustling. You can't see them in this small photo, but there is a cow and her calf just below the highest tree on the hill, and two more off at the top right. They are merely dots on the hill here. I was watching them through the lens and thinking how scattered they were - how very alone.

And another picture of something you can't see! He is slightly to the right of the fallen tree branches, and crouched down at the edge of the light grasses in the foreground. Pretty much in the center of the photo. My trigger finger wasn't quite fast enough to catch his eyes peering at me between the blades of grass.

Had to make a trip in to Penticton yesterday and stopped at the beach on a whim to catch some wave action. I love taking photos of the sun through waves and patterns of bubbles at the shore. Could watch the play of shadows on the sand for hours.

Because it was a windy day and the sun was shining, the kite surfers came out. I am sure they have a communication system between them because on a day like this, there are always surfers. On the 22nd of October, the weather is bright and sunny, but the water is cold, cold, cold, and they are decked out in protective suits, head to toe, so they don't freeze! Really only recognizable by the kites they fly to anyone but their close friends.

About half a dozen of them were out at one point -never all in the same place at the same time. I can imagine the exhilaration they feel out there, flying across the water on the wind. With the sun catching their kites, and the spray kicked up by the boards, they make a good show.

Especially when they catch a wave and jump - seeming to hang in the air forever! It takes a definite connection with nature to be able to sense the wind in the kite and the wave beneath your feet and co-ordinate it into an extended flight across the water. Fascinating to watch. I am always mesmerized watching them, and it is hard to quit. Hard to stop taking pictures too - between the waves and the kiters, came away with loads of them on the camera!! Could have stayed watching them for as long as they were out there, but unfortunately, I had other things on my list to do before I went home.

As it was, I returned home in twilight fading to darkness, focusing intently on the roadside watching for deer. Five of them crossed in front of me at one point, but I managed to pick out their moving silhouettes against the background and came to a stop until they were all safely across - heading for the river. By the time I arrived home the night sky sparkled with millions of stars. It was an impromptu trip, necessitated by strange noises emanating from my laptop (!!!!), but because I followed my intuition and made an extra stop, in the end it was a fantastic day and the challenge of the laptop problems dwindled in importance. It became a non-issue. Still something I have to deal with, but it didn't overshadow everything and make yesterday "THE DAY MY LAPTOP BROKE DOWN". Instead, it was the day I got to watch the waves and the kiters!

The leaves are falling, one by one - or on breezy days a whole bunch at a time. But there is still colour and still interesting things to see as I walk.  The birds are finding little puddles of water to bath in now that the bird baths in gardens have been put away so as not to freeze and crack over the winter.

Juncos having a bath.

This totally neglected apple tree had a good crop this year. They are small and tart, but nutritious for the birds and deer.

Part of the Trans Canada Trail - the fall leaves are still a pretty sight.

I have been indoors reading and working for a few days and started to feel rather house-bound, so decided it was time for a walk. Get out, get some air, see what has been going on without me. Fall is advancing, as it should be. After all it is October all of a sudden, and the air is getting cooler. Although not too many days ago I was sitting barefoot in the sun with a short sleeved t-shirt and jeans on, but as a rule, most days are cool. It is time for wrapping up summer and reaping the harvest in the gardens, getting it ready to store away for winter so we can enjoy the bounty. The last flowers have been picked and from now on any foliage in the house will be house plants or dried weeds.

Nature has it's own fall bouquets.

I am always of two minds at this time of year - sad to see the warm weather go, a little disappointed that it is going to be too cold to go out without warm coats and boots, yet knowing full well that winter and its accompanying frost and snow can produce some fabulous scenes as well - and snow really can provide lots of fun. I almost feel a sense of guilt for not looking forward to it.... almost. But I know once it is here I will dig in and dress warm and head outside anyway and fully enjoy everything it has to offer - I am just never quite ready to give up until I have to. Like anything else that has been going well, we don't want to give up until it is forced upon us, and winter forces me to step back and hunker down and consider what has come and gone and whether it has taken me in the direction I want to go. Did I plant the right seeds in the spring to give me the harvest that I was looking for? Did I tend my projects and nurture them sufficiently to give me the results I am looking for? Am I farther ahead now than when I started out this year? Closer to my goals? As much as I would like to avoid it, winter is a necessary time for me just as it is for nature. It forces a shut down of some things so that others can be focused on, tended to and expanded. Time to build a solid base for expanded growth next year.

When I was a kid we lived in what was a rural area - not far from town, but still farming, orchards and vacation cottages.  Down the edge of the lane leading to our property there was an impenetrable hedge of wild roses. The 'real' ones - not an offshoot of an imported variety, but the authentic pink, five petalled ones. The hedge had been growing there for years and was a tangled mass about five feet tall. Every spring these bushes would begin to show the tiny buds with pink petals peeking out more each day until the blossom was fully opened. I recall many times that I stopped to pick one or two for my Mother as I wandered past, sometimes being rewarded with prickles embedded in my fingers. But the absolute best thing about those bushes was the softly scented aroma that would waft in through my bedroom window on a hot summer night as I lay waiting in the heat to fall asleep. It's a soft gentle scent that I still find very soothing.

Another thing about wild roses that I still habitually take part in is the sampling of the rose hips as I pass by a bush. They are just beginning to ripen enough to eat now, just as the leaves are beginning to turn fall colours. They can be tricky little berries to eat - you have to peel off the outer fleshy layer and leave the fuzzy seed bundle alone, but the taste is worth it. They are high in vitamin C, and are food to many of the birds and animals. The hips stay on the bush all winter, so do not deteriorate as they would on the ground, and are there for the picking through the winter. They do dry out, but the birds don't mind.

And speaking of drying out, they can be dried and used to make tea. You can dry the whole berry, crush, and when steeping in the water, put the berries in a tea ball to keep the bits out of your cup. It's a good source of vitamins to chase away the hint of a winter cold coming on. Add a little honey if you wish. I have even heard of people making jelly, but haven't had the opportunity to taste any - so I won't tell you it's good because I have no idea!

The delicate pink blossoms fully open.

Rose hips just beginning to turn red.

This bush is covered in the tiny buds ready to open. The aroma is wonderful.

B.C. Adventures has a short article about wild roses in British Columbia and there are numerous other sites debating the wildness of roses found around the continent.

I have a small patch of them growing in my yard where I live now and they bring back many memories. They are prickly little shrubs, and they expand their territory by sending suckers out underground, so can be hard to contain if your soil is fertile - but mine is not, and they don't expand very quickly at all, so I leave them be and enjoy the blossoms, the hips and the fall colour of their leaves as they turn. It is just one of the things that I keep around to remind me of where I come from.

I think we need these sorts of touch stones, whatever they may be, to keep us in balance - particularly when moving to new territory. Even if it is only a photo of something that is special to you - it still works. Makes you feel comfortable.

A favourite place for me is the Vaseaux Lake Bird Sanctuary. Not just because there are lots of birds there and you never really know what you might spot as a surprise, but because it is such an interesting combination of wetland, lake, cliffs, sage and greasewood. Across the highway from the bird sanctuary is a protected area for bighorn sheep but I am just posting photos of the lake side this time.

There is a gravel parking area with signs about the types of birds you may see and information about the area. They do the annual bird count there. Once you leave the parking area you trek off down through the sumac, wild rose and greasewood to the wetland area where the boardwalk begins. You become enshrouded in green with sunlight sprinkled through the leaves. There are a couple of stopping places with benches where you can sit and watch whatever waterfowl happen to be on the lake that day, and at the end of the walk way there is a small lookout you can climb up into, sit, and watch out on the open water. This time there were only Canada Geese and ducks that I could see, but some times I have been there to see a wider variety of birds that have stopped to rest and refuel on their migration south or north depending on the season. No such luck this time.

The stunning colours of the sumac in fall dress.

A very old greasewood bush - one of many in the area. Greasewood has a very long lifespan and has been used for many remedies by native peoples.

Boardwalk leading into the brush through the wet areas. Along the way there are a couple of benches for sitting and contemplating the scene. At the end is a blind for observing the waterfowl. It's a peaceful walk, although a tad unnerving when the place is deserted and I am all alone . We get so used to always having other people around and noise, that it takes a minutes to get used to being totally alone and enclosed in the trees. It forces me to tune in instead of tune out. To listen and sense and be aware of what is around me. To absorb it all, instead of just being enclosed in my head with my own thoughts.

Then you come upon a scene like this and you stand in appreciation of the beauty there is around us. This is Vaseaux Lake, and pretty from any direction. No matter the time of year it always manages to impress me.

I find excursions like this very therapeutic. They bring me in tune with my surroundings and I remember that there is life other than my own that is important. There were not only birds and waterfowl but dozens of dragon flies flitting amongst the reeds, bees buzzing, and butterflies, not to mention all of the little creatures in the water. I have often seen turtles and heard frogs. It's a world so far removed from my daily activities, and it carries on with or without me there paying heed to it. I become very humble and realize that my challenges are not really of any importance after all in the grander scheme of things.

After having spent some time in the Swan Lake Habitat Restoration area thinking about the arid country I grew up in, I had a yearning to go back and take another look. I always had remembered the sage and greasewood and cactus of my childhood, but it struck me that I don't see that anymore when I go home, and wondered if it was all just a figment of my imagination. I decided to go and take a focused look through adult eyes. Fortunately it isn't very far away - just a bit more than an hour's drive. So I decided to take a tour and go the long way around. Make it a circle tour.

I started out to the south end of the valley where I knew for sure it was dry desert and headed north from there to compare - to see whether I had just latched on to stories in childhood or things taught from textbooks, or if it had really been as I recalled. Driving on the first leg through Keremeos and Cawston I noticed the many huge swaths of new vineyards growing in the valley that had never been there before, and immediately outside the irrigated areas was sagebrush. A stark contrast. As I descended into Osoyoos, near the American border, it was rather obvious the difference between the developed areas and the natural ones. Heading north up the valley I saw more vineyards covering huge expanses, and again, immediately outside the irrigated area was sagebrush.

Just a little bit of natural water remaining in a basin after the hot summer is over provides a bright green oasis in the brown hills.

From the lookout above Osoyoos it is easy to see the contrast between irrigated country and natural habitat.

One of many expanses of irrigated vineyards to supply the local wineries. In the foreground is a river channel bounded by trees and shrubs, and between the river and the vineyard is natural sagebrush country. It shows the effect a little water can have.

As I neared Penticton I stopped at a viewpoint overlooking the city to ponder what I was seeing and what I remembered and came to a conclusion. I don't think of it as desert so much any more because the areas that I recall as being full of sage are now full of housing developments and vineyards and thus, irrigated and green. They flow up the mountain sides to where the pines are in a majority, and the sage has disappeared for the most part. But it was sage, greasewood and cactus. It doesn't take much to see that. Shifting my view west, over the expanse of the Reserve where no development has taken place, I see sage once again.

The marked contrast is an eye-opener. We are so busy taking care of daily life that we don't really look closely at our surroundings and think about what we are seeing and the changes taking place. We tune it out. It doesn't matter what is there - we still have to get the laundry done or the kids to school, or that project completed for work. It doesn't matter what kind of trees grow there, or if any trees at all grow. It's all very nice to be able to take some time and go for a swim in the lake, but I know many people who have lived between two lakes for years, and not been to swim in them. They consider themselves to be lucky living there, but it is the IDEA of living somewhere  in a valley of sunshine between two beautiful lakes, where you can golf most of the year. They don't actually take the time to DO these things, they just like to hear the envy in their distant-living friend's voices when they say how nice the weather is, while their friends are still blanketed by snow.

 Skaha Lake in the foreground, Okanagan Lake in the background - only about 5 miles maximum between the two. Development up the hillsides includes residential areas, orchards and wineries.

It is easy to see where the developments stop - the country is arid once again when left to nature.

Change is constant, change can be good - but it's important to keep aware of what effects the changes have on the natural world, otherwise we don't understand our loss of bio-diversity until it is too late to slow the process down until it is in balance once again.

More lichen - of a different kind, this one hangs from the dead branches of the pine trees creating a rather haunted effect. Reminds me of Hallowe'en.

Continuing on from my previous post. The country here is dry - bone dry for the most part except in winter when it is covered in snow, but there are clues to the areas that do retain some moisture - aspen trees.  You can tell that there is underground moisture running down this little gully because the trees have taken root.

Again, the aspen are a clue that there is more moisture ahead - it's the little lake actually. Very small, but sufficient for the animals and birds to get their drink, and all manner of water critters to live in.

Speaking of critters, some of them are underground. Lots of mounds from busy moles throughout the area, and a few small holes in evidence as well. Not certain who they belong to, but no doubt some one lives in there.

Swan Lake. Tiny at the end of the summer, but it fills up in Spring with the snow melt. The treed area is the edge.

It's a beautiful hot day and down here in the "kettle", as they call it, there is no breeze. Some fantastic reflections on the still water. There is a small bench at the top of the rise above the lake that I like to sit on and soak up the silence of the space. There are bird boxes about for the bluebirds to nest, and I occasionally hear them. We get both mountain bluebirds and western bluebirds nesting here. There are usually a number of ducks floating about the pond as well, diving for dinner.

Took me a bit of looking through the lens to figure out what I was seeing, the reflection of the bullrushes  was so real!

Sitting here in the silence of a hot day I am reminded of just how dry this country is without irrigation. It is the northern tip of the arid desert that stretches all the way from Mexico. Osoyoos is the main desert area, with the edges gradually diminishing as you get to Skaha Lake in the north and the Similkameen in the west. Here the elevation rises and there are more pines and less sage as there is more snowfall here, but vestiges of desert still peak through. Sage still grows here, and cactus as well.

Not a big patch, but all it takes is one in your foot! Brought back childhood memories - if there are cactus, I usually step in them - they just seem to plant themselves in my pathway every time.

You can see how dry and brown these undulating rises are here in the basin of the kettle. As dull as it looks, there are many different plants growing here, and in spring and early summer they show up with their blossoms. It becomes a softly coloured scene.

It always amazes me that a country with so many lakes and rivers in it can be so dry, but it is. By the time the winds get here they have dropped their moisture in the mountains and are ready to soak up the water again. I spent the majority of my life living on a small strip of land between two large lakes - yet I know that water is precious because the areas surrounding the lakes is desert. It gives me a respect for the water that seems so plentiful at first glance because I know that it isn't.

I love to come to places like this. I find it restorative. All the trivial concerns of the day are washed away by the sunshine and the silence.

Not far away there is a place that I enjoy visiting. It's a wildlife habitat and restoration area. It isn't a huge expanse, only 57 hectares of natural habitat situated within a series of knolls and dips. When I am down in the dips, enveloped by the softly rolling knolls of grasses, I feel at one with the 'place'. Protected by the undulating mounds of earth, soothed by the subtle colours of weeds and grasses, lulled by the silence broken only with bird calls, I lose my sense of time.

Sign posted at the main entrance to the area.

These small hand done signs mark the trails and note some of the species growing nearby.

Atop a knoll, grazing in a bordering pasture, is a lone, white-rumped horse. He breaks his hunt for green blades amongst the brown for a look at me when he hears my clay bell tinkling as it sways from my backpack as I walk. He studies me for a while deciding I am nothing to be concerned about and resumes his search, paying me no further attention. I feel an odd, melancholy urge to slide on to his back and saunter off into the distance.

Checking to see if I am friend or foe. I feel a touch of envy at his being able to wander the pastures up here all day with no cares, yet his freedom looks lonely.

The pine trees here have been standing for many years and some are slowly decaying. In their decay, they provide a source of nutrients for other species as well. Nothing goes to waste. Several types of lichen grow here and one is visible on these decaying branches. The bright yellowish colour is wolf lichen.  There are other types here as well, some hanging from the growing trees, some slowly covering the rocks. It all has a place in the cycle.

This patch of mosses and lichen is actually covering a rock.

I have been busy the last few days getting more things ready for a yard sale. Searching through boxes, wicker baskets, trunks and shelves tires me out. Or perhaps it is the decisions that tire me out. Knowing that many of the things have a history and stories behind them, wondering what to do with them, and letting go can be a tedious process even though I try not to let it be. It's not difficult to decide about things that I can buy again in the future, so those are the kinds of things that are going in this sale - newish stuff that I just don't use right now. As I have moved from place to place, and for a while having two places, I accumulated more than I need for one house. Time to slim down! So today is the day. But having made all the decisions and moved all the boxes I felt in need of some time away from it all. This wander through the natural habitat has restored my energies. Wonderful how nature can do that. Taking my attention away from trivial things it reminds me of the cycles in life. Life is ever changing, and mine is in the process of change as well. Move out the old so it can have a new life elsewhere, and make room for new opportunities.

There will be more on my journey through the habitat, but that's enough for this post. See you next time and we will venture further.