Shuswap Lake Seasons

I sent my grandson a picture of Shuswap Lake for a birthday card, and thought about all the pictures I have taken since 2011 of the lake, and clouds, and water, and light. Most of these images have been taken from my deck, or the front of the house which is close to the lake.

I have often considered uploading my photos of the lake and its moods in one place -- so here are a selected few.

Many of these photos show a lagoon which was created in the mudflats between our shoreline and the main part of the lake. I suspect that human intervention was involved, as it just does not feel natural to have a ridge of soil in such a place. The lagoon has cattails and one solitary shrub willow on its far side. The first photograph below shows these features. A number of the other photographs show the willow, sometimes off in the distance, and sometimes almost submerged (in high water). The lagoon is filled with wildlife throughout the year - a fortunate consequence of whatever project led to its creation.

Spring

Shuswap Lake rises and falls every year by 3 to 4 metres on average (between 10 and 13 feet). In the shallow areas along the shore, such as Salmon Arm Bay, the receding water leaves extensive mudflats exposed. The photo below gives a glimpse of these mudflats in the middle distance. These mudflats are significant habitat for migratory birds in the spring and fall.

March 16, 2012

March 28, 2012

The lake begins to rise in April.

April 27, 2017

Spring and fall are the high seasons for migratory birds on Shuswap Lake.

May 11, 2016 - American Pelicans

The website www.shuswaplakewatch.com provides data and graphs for Shuswap Lake for the last dozen years or so.

Here is the graph up to today's date, January 27, 2019.

Source: www.shuswaplakewatch.com

High water averages mid June, although in 2012 it was June 27, and in 2018 it was May 29. The 2012 level was the highest level since the floods of 1972, coming to around 7 cm of the 1972 flood level. The photo below was taken about a week after the lake had begun to drop. In the foreground is a fence. This fence is at the base of rock rip rap which was installed in the early 1990's when Heron View was built. Our house sits a few feet back from the top of this rock rip rap. Notice how far up the fence the water has risen.

July 3, 2012

Two years after the above photo, in 2014, the lake peaked June 6, 2014 - a full three weeks earlier than in 2012. The photo below was taken July 2, 2014 -  almost exactly the same time of year as the photo above, but showing a very different lake landscape.

July 2 2014

Here is another photo taken later that same day.

Sunset, July 2, 2014

Summer

By mid-summer the water levels have receded.

August 6, 2016

The Shuswap summers often have extended high pressure systems, which make for spectacular sunsets.

July 19, 2012

Fall

In the valley bottom, fall starts late and sometimes lasts into December.

October 26, 2018

October 23, 2015

November 3, 2011

December 6, 2011

November 19, 2013

November 28, 2018

Winter

January 5, 2014

January 11, 2017

January 5, 2014

I don't have a lens which easily photographs the birds that live in the lagoon. Many of my shots are taken from a distance. Here is one of blue herons lined up along the edge of the lagoon in the winter snow, all resting, but possibly keeping an eye out for the occasional vole which might scurry under the snow.

December 11, 2018 - Blue herons on the shore of the lagoon

And so ends a brief  tour of a year on the foreshore of Shuswap Lake at Salmon Arm. The shrub willow which appeared in my first photographs in the fall of 2011 is still there, as are the bulrushes, and the lagoon.  But there is a proposal to put an elevated walkway somewhere out in the marsh, connecting an existing walkway near the wharf with First Nations lands to the west. If the city and the bands can find the funds, and if the environmental assessments show that this won't damage habitat for wildlife and fish.... then future images of this scene might look very different.

December 10, 2018

At the Wharf

I only had time for a short walk yesterday morning, so it was confined to the Salmon Arm wharf area. It was definitely a mixed, surreal experience of nature!

Peace Pole, Salmon Arm Wharf

I like the sentiment of the peace pole. Although most people in Salmon Arm call this area "the wharf", or perhaps Marine Park, its official name is "Marine Peace Park", in reference to a joint project with one of the Rotary clubs, and a local branch of Physicians for Global Survival. Scattered throughout the park are a wide diversity of trees, and plaques with quotes invoking peace. Unfortunately, the plaques have not weathered well and many are difficult to read. There are quotes by Dag Hammarskjold, Gandhi, and others. But the peace pole message is very clear. Peace on earth. A tranquil meditative thought to begin one's day. May peace begin within each of us, and with loving hearts.

This provided a rather comical counterpoint to the peace pole.  Hanging from a tree at the end of the road accessing the wharf, its lurid pink was most noticeable against the backdrop of Shuswap Lake. "Hello! My name is Annie. I want to be your friend!" read the words in English and French. Perhaps the path to world peace leads this way ... openness to being friends with all, without judgment, to giving and receiving love.

My wharf walk continued to an encounter with the dozens of mallard ducks which hang around the area.  Originally they had been over in the area of the peace pole, but a vehicle arrived with several young people who had just been to Tim Hortons and were carrying coffee and bags of donuts, and vaping clouds of smoke as they loudly enjoyed the morning. The ducks migrated across the street, to make sure they did not miss any handouts.

Urban nature.

I finished my quick, brisk morning walk along the walkway in front of the CSRD building. The grass-covered mudflats are covered by water in the spring, with grebes and other waterfowl hanging out here. Now, things are much quieter. 

The lake is higher than normal at this time of year. With so little snow, and temperatures much above normal, the mudflats are quite wet and hard to access. Often by this time of year skiers and snowshoers have been out, but this year I have only seen one skier so far.

For any readers wanting to track Shuswap lake levels, an excellent source of data and graphing is www.shuswaplakewatch.com.

To Fly or Not to Fly?

If I am to reduce my use of fossil fuels I need to cut down on air flights. This is a hard decision, because if I want to visit either of my adult children, and grandchildren, I would be looking at either a two day drive, or a five day drive (minimum). Flying is a much easier option.

Back in 2006, the Guardian columnist George Monbiot talked about the huge carbon footprint of flying. He concluded that "journeys around the world must be reserved for visiting the people you love, and that they will require both slow travel and the saving up of carbon rations." He called these visits "love miles", and suggested that most other reasons for flying - such as holidays - should be rejected. [https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2006/sep/21/travelsenvironmentalimpact.ethicalliving}

Earlier this year my brother and his wife, who live in Alberta, Canada, were considering a holiday that would have involved air flights to central Europe. To inform their decision making process my brother researched their household's annual emissions of CO2, and what would be the implications of a round trip for two to Europe. The graph below shows the results. (They ended up holidaying locally.)

This graph is specific to Alberta, which uses 47% coal, 40% gas, and 13% renewables in the production of electricity. For British Columbia, where I live and where electricity is mostly generated from hydro-dams, the CO2 is less - about 13 g of CO2 per kWh. But other things, such as home heating and automobile use, would be comparable.

This is a vivid example of what JUST ONE AIR FLIGHT means; it was more than my brother's annual carbon budget in either home heating, automobile use or home electricity use. 

The bottom line for me is that I need to do what Monbiot suggests, and save my carbon rations. Rather than a quick weekend flight to visit someone I love, I need to save up those rations and use them wisely, and for longer, and deeper, visits.