I make a big deal about bears – about how I’m always looking for them. I’ve complained that even though I was never guaranteed to find one, at least when I lived in Alberta, I knew where to go look. I knew where to search for moose. I knew the best places to go birding and where I would be most likely to spot a herd of elk.
I didn’t always know.
Even though I grew up in Alberta, it wasn’t until I had moved away for a few years and came back that I began to understand and appreciate what Alberta was. It wasn’t until someone handed me a camera that I realized there were more birds out there than Magpies and Mallards. It took me until I was in my 40’s to see the beauty in a field of wheat, the call of a coyote, the taste of a thunderstorm and the songs of tiny frogs.
Sometimes, I miss all that.
It’s not that BC doesn’t have all those things. I know it does. I just don’t know where to find them – yet.
Except for the sheep. I know where to find the California Big Horn Sheep. There is no way for me to adequately express how truly fortunate I am to live in such a place, a place where fifteen minutes after leaving my house, I am looking through my lens at these glorious creatures.
Because it’s such a short distance, I went out twice this week – once early in the morning, when the sky was the colour of sapphires,
and again, late in the afternoon, while the sun slipped behind the mountains.
So, if you hear me complaining that I haven’t seen a bear or that I forget what a moose looks like, just remind me that there are still plenty of roads to travel. Remind me that I live in a world of endless possibilities. Say, “Sally, remember the sheep.”