Peachland Forestry Service Road

What a fantastic week–gorgeous skies of brilliant blue, apple blossoms on the trees, leaves bursting into green song, and a lake reflecting every mood known to man. Yes, we could use some rain, but still, it’s great to be alive.  I wasn’t the only one who wanted to go out this week.  Santana needed to do a little back-roads navigating.  Jaki needed to breathe some mountain air.  Me, I was only too happy to oblige.

Santana wanted to see if he could find a path between Peachland and Summerland that didn’t involve the highway.  The air was hot and sweet.  There was no wind whatsoever, and the lake shone like glass, reflecting the low mountains and trees.  It almost felt like a scene from a fairytale.

We tried three different roads.  Two of them ended in ATV trails.  The third may have been what he was looking for, but there was too much snow to continue. Regardless, it was a fine day of driving the dusty roads, absorbing the scent of fragrant pines.  Bouquets of Arrow-leafed Balsam Root lined the roads, and tiny yellow buttercups dotted the meadows.

A few days later, Jaki and I headed out in the same direction. Santana and I had travelled many branches of the same road, but there was one we didn’t take, the Peachland Forestry Service Road, and I wanted to see where it led. Jaki was game.

Once we’d gone past the various intersections Bear and I had travelled, we didn’t see a single vehicle.  Mourning Cloak butterflies lifted off the road at our approach, drifting seamlessly up and over the windshield. 

The road was clear, even though snow still clung to the edges, quite deep in some areas.

We drove through canyons with jagged rock faces, we drove through places where swamp land hugged the road.

We drove where the spring run-off poured out of grass and moss, with the Zen-like sound of a garden waterfall. We drove past waterfalls.

We drove and drove and drove.  There was just no good reason to stop. 

Except lunch.  Jaki always brings a lunch.

While I was finishing my lunch, Jaki brought me a sprig from a fallen Ponderosa Pine – best air-freshener, ever.

Eventually, we reached a point where the road ahead looked too muddy to risk.  The rest of the road would have to wait for another day. We turned around and prepared for the journey home.

“On dusty roads I walked
And over mountains high
Through rivers running deep
Beneath the endless sky”

  • “Skellig” by Loreena McKennitt

Author: Featherstone Creative

Sally Quon is a photographer and writer living in the beautiful Okanagan Valley, where she is blessed to live, love and grow on the traditional and unceded territory of the Syilx people. Her photography has appeared in Canadian Geographic Magazine and in Nature Alberta’s various birding brochures. Sally was recently published in Chicken Soup for the Soul - The Forgiveness Fix and was long listed for the Vallum Chapbook Award. She is an associate member of the League of Canadian Poets. One of her photos was chosen for inclusion in the Photographer’s Forum “Best of 2018” Collection. She has two beautiful, almost grown children and a cat who loves her.

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