The possibility of bighorn sheep in rut lured Marc, Maggie and me out to Dewdrop Range several weekends ago. November’s beginning in Kamloops is as fickle as March’s ending: sporadic warmth belying cold’s imminent possibility. Rather than climbing up into the hills, we dropped down over the side towards Kamloops Lake and found a hidden valley–really just a eroded gully–with more than enough natural history to keep us busy for most of the day.
As the day wore on, the sun slipped behind and then in front of clouds, casting long shadows across steep slopes.
When it is time, I pack up pens and paper, brushes and paints, feeling the deep satisfaction that comes with paying close attention to the more-than-human world. A good way, I think, following our new dog Freya up and out of the valley, to spend a Sunday.