Giving thanks in Kamloops, every day
The first morning of October was cold and drizzly and the tall withered grass was wet and just as cold. Dog and I went on our daily hike, heading up the steep trail as fast as we could to keep warm. By the time we reached the plateau the wind had picked up. It spoke of winter, pretending that fall was not part of the schedule anymore.
No bird sang and or hopped around Saskatoon bushes the way they usually do. The eerie silence was beautiful, chill notwithstanding, but the feeling of being cheated out of fall was also there. Climate change reality and all the talks about ‘the new normal’ can bring enjoyment down a few notches, making it harder to know where gratefulness lies.
The first snowflake looked like a tiny butterfly fluttering by. Almost surreal. Another came and then a few more. It was way too early for snow but I could not help feeling jolly.
I stood glued to the spot on the mucky trail, among Ponderosa pines and fragrant sagebrush, mesmerized by that first snow dance of the season. I felt thankful for being witness to it, and that opened the door to more thanks: for the beautiful nature we have in and around Kamloops (fresh mounds of bear and coyote scat included, deer tracks too – a daily reminder of shared paths and of the circle of life that works best when it includes us all); for how close the big wild spaces are to the city, and what a blessing it is to be able to find yourself immersed in silence and beauty mere steps away from home.