by David Ellis, June 28, 2013
It was spring in the British Columbia coast mountains, a glorious time, no mosquitoes yet, here in the high country, 4100 feet up, the sun felt hot, you are closer to it, up here. The last of the snow patches were still hanging on, in the shade of the aromatic balsam firs. I had several times that day pulled balsam needles off as I passed, crushed them, and put them to my nose, the scent, was exhilarating. The roar and murmur of streams and runoff, was everywhere, my boots were soaked from fording three swollen creeks.
