Supermoon

On Super-Moon, Heavenly Bodies & Getting Old

In Nature, there is no such thing as a perfect circle. 

Therefore the orbits of the planets and their moons are elliptical rather than round. That means that our Moon is sometimes closer, sometimes further away from the Earth. When the moon is at its closest distance to the Earth and it is full at the same time it seems much larger and brighter than at other times. It becomes a super-moon.

It was May the 5th when my friend Nel called me on the phone:

"Watch the moon tonight - it is going to be really big 'cause it's the closest to the Earth it can get! Lets hope that it does not rain because our next chance to experience something like this will be in 2029."

Hm, I would be 80 years old then, and who knows, the skies might be cloudy that night, so I decided that it was the best to prepare my gear and photograph it NOW, in 2012.

The moon in this West Kootenay valley was supposed to rise at about 11 p.m. 

I was out and ready at eight! Waiting, praying for a cloudless night, trying to imagine what it must be like in the Prairies. Huge Prairie Moon rising above the unobstructed horizon, its super-size multiplied by the atmosphere, looking so huge as if  wanting to swallow the Earth. 

Here I was instead, at the bottom of a deep V-shaped valley on the shores of Kootenay River with tall mountain ridges reaching high for the darkening sky. The moon would be half way up before I could see any of it. It did not matter to the kid inside me, wanting to check out the 400 mm lens on the heavenly super-body.

Just no clouds, please, no clouds – okay?

There are times when wishes come true. There was not a cloud in the sky, not at eight, not at nine, not at thirty past ten! At ten forty a small portion of the Eastern sky lit up! Slowly at first but then the moon popped up, and with increasing impatience (so it seemed ), rapidly rose above the ridge. The fields and forests, the river and everything around just lit up gaining a different dimension.

The fairy tale night  began!

   SuperMoon

Several decades ago, on July 20, 1969 my brother Stan and I lazed around a small fire on a lonely beach somewhere in Italy watching a bright full moon. The news of that day was huge: “Apollo landed on the Moon! ” The world was celebrating, radio and TV stations endlessly discussing the achievements and future possibilities of the space programs. Man conquered the Moon!

Somehow I did not share that excitement; I felt a wave of sadness as if something sacred had been taken away from me. It felt as if someone walked across a field covered by freshly fallen snow.

“ No longer a virgin”, I remember saying. Stan only nodded his head.

…..

All the memories, 43 years old, came back while I was taking dozens of pictures of the rising moon. Click-click-click …. boy, was it ever rising fast!

No, no, no no no! – (that was my brain) – it is not the moon, it is the Earth and you – spinning in the opposite direction, silly!

What would happen if Earth suddenly stopped spinning – would I land on the moon?

Ah, full moon is known to do strange things to human brain. And this was Super-Moon.

     Star Trails and Polaris

Satellites above my head kept crisscrossing the skies; there was one, there – another one! No big deal, simply more of the space pollution, I thought.

Not so some fifty years ago when Stan, ever the scientist, came running into our parents’ house, grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out into the darkness of the night.

“Hurry, hurry! There is a satellite in the sky! lets see ….” It was only an optical illusion but we both pretended that we REALLY, REALLY saw one.

Half a century later a brand new “star” lights our night every now and then. Only a few people ever bother to lift their heads to have a look. 

"Ah, …  yes, the Space Station. of course. I wonder what’ they are having for dinner up there tonight."

     Space Station

So much has changed in such a short time. Sometimes I wonder: how can one begin to tell a modern Fairy Tale? Perhaps it could go like this:

Once upon a time, fifty, sixty long years ago there reigned Chaos. No man-made objects orbited the Earth. There were no human tracks on the Moon, no satellites, no lasers, no cell phones, no Internet …”

A seven year old would cringe in horror: 

“What?  How about people? How were they able to survive? What was it like for them? “

To tell the truth, I am not sure if I could explain to a seven year old that it was beautiful.

Oh that super-moon!

Gerrard Trout and Black Bears

WEST KOOTENAY MAGIC

Today I had an opportunity to share most of the day with a friend and a realy good wildlife photographer Jim Lawrence 

www.kootenayreflections.com

What a treat! 

We traveled North from Kaslo and Meadow Creek to the head of Lardeau River  looking for opportunities to photograph wildlife. Our main objective however was to see the spawning Gerrard Trout. These giants spawn from late April to mid-May.

The day was hot and sunny and it seemed that most of the wild animals took refuge in the deep woods of the Goat River Provincial Park. 

At 8:30 we saw 4 Turkey Vultures (Cathartes aura) circling the morning skies above Meadow Creek. 

We continued North towards Trout Lake. The road was unpaved and potholes, at many places, were quite deep . Winter has left its marks and our Honda Fit had a few challenging sections to conquer. Nevertheless, the vistas and Nature, budding  all around us, more than made up for the road troubles. 

Weather forecast for the day called for 32 degrees Celsius!

Beavers dammed a portion of the valley and we stopped to have a closer look at their lodge. Jim found a snake hiding among the alder roots by the edge of the swamp.  

It was 10 a.m. when we arrived to the head of Lardeau River.  It is a beautiful and wild stream, connecting two large lakes: Trout Lake to the North and Kootenay Lake to the South.

People were already watching spawning fish from the bridge that connects the West side of the valley with what used to be a mining community called Gerrard. That's where the name came from - Gerrard rainbow Trout  (Oncorhynchus spp.)

     Trout Lake at Gerrard

Unlike the many streams and rivers along the way Lardeau River was clear and turqoise in colour. There was no silt , mud and other debris being hurtled down from the rapidly warming slopes. 

Gerrard trout are very large - perhaps the largest rainbow trout in the world. Unlike the other rainbows they feed exclusively on Kokanee Salmon (land-locked Sockeye Salmon)

which makes them vulnerable to any problems bequeathing the Kokanee population.

In late spring they spawn - for a very good reason - in this clean, gravel-lined river, just after it had left Trout Lake.  Like dark, streamlined torpedoes they come up in large numbers to spawn.

We had been told that the Gerrard count for this year is somewhere around seven hundred  to a thousand spawning fish. 

Not so high, I thought, considering how many lakes and rivers we have around here. 

I guess that there used to be less, that's why everyone is happy about the numbers.

Watching Gerrads is fun. The males chase each other and once in a while there is a flurry of activity as the males chase away their rivals trying to position themselves in the close proximity of the spawning females.

Once in a while they also jump out of the water - landing with a loud splash. 

One of the local biologists told us that the explanation for such behaviour is unclear. Some people believe that the fish suffer from a skin condition caused by a fungus of sorts. They jump out of the water to seek relief from itching or pain. 

Others believe that this is a part of their mating ritual .... as for myself, I simply think that it is amazing to see a huge fish like that flying through the air in a shower of sparkling droplets.

On our return to Meadow Creak we stopped at an old-growth Red Cedar forest site.

The trees that were spared logging, hundreds years old, clad in moss and ferns, devil's club sprouting at their bases, towered high above us. 

An ideal habitat  for grizzly bears and other wildlife. 

"An owl", said Jim at one point, listening carefully. 

"I think it is a Barred Owl, can you hear?" 

Being half deaf I heard nothing. But it was good to know that the owls were there.

Soon came another sound; this one even I could hear - it was quite loud, like someone half choking was trying to clear their throat. 

"What's that?" I said. "Should we run for the car?" 

I wasn't too serious, but I was listening carefully nevertheless.

"A deer," smiled Jim, "probably scared of something."

"Something, like ... what?"

"Us." 

Leaving Jim at his home and his studio full of amazing photographs, I continued towards my own home. It was only about 5 p.m., so instead of driving along Kootenay Lake from Kaslo to Nelson, I took a road crossing Selkirk mountains from Kaslo to New Denver. I stopped at Fish Lake to enjoy the scenery, hoping to take a photograph or two. But everything was quiet - a couple of ducks too far away and rapidly falling dusk ahead. New Denver Glacier towering above everything else was changing colours as if wanting to remind me that I was still good 200 km away from home.

Light was disappearing fast as I was heading down to the valley bottom. 

Than, just when the last light hit the mountain slopes, I finally came upon a view I was hoping for all day: a mother Black Bear and her cub!

I came to a slow stop and shut off the engine.

They pretended not to see me but the cub slowly turned and walked towards the mother. She also turned - heading in my direction. I did not move, only my camera

made few annoying "clicks". A cannon could not have sounded louder!

Nobody was watching anyone! 

Then she must have given another instruction to her cub for it turned, quite suddenly, and sped towards the thickets. 

Mom did not even lift her head - only the hair on her neck stood up.

As soon as the cub reached the trees Mom turned back and followed - as if to make sure that everything back there was fine.

Finally - having enough of my presence she spun back and headed towards my car.

Charged.

I managed to take off in time and sped away, Honda Fit unscratched! 

Perhaps it was only a bluff charge - in any case, I thought that it was a perfect time to leave them alone. 

I am pretty sure that she could not have agreed with me more.