Top 10 Canadian Lakes

From the website incredible places to see in your lifetime comes a listing of the Top 10 Incredible Canadian Lakes.  You can find out information about each of these lakes by reading the article, and also by clicking the links following some of the images.

10. Lake Superior

9. Lake Ontario

8. Abraham Lake, Alberta -- this incredible lake is the subject of an upcoming Feb 10th post - so check back!

7. Waterton Lake, Alberta

See a post devoted just to this lake ...

6. Lake Louise, Banff National Park

5. Berg Lake, Mount Robson Provincial Park

4. Azure Lake, British Columbia

A post about Azure lake ...

3. Peyto Lake, the Rocky Mountains

A post about Peyto lake

2. Moraine Lake, Banff National Park

A post about Moraine lake

1. Garibaldi Lake, British Columbia

You can find out information about each of these lakes by reading the Top 10 Incredible Canadian Lakes article or following the post links about some of the individual lakes.

The Beauty of Canada by Ron Crouch

I suppose I’m one of those lucky people, or perhaps odd, depending on your point of view. January in Ontario, Canada. Snow, freezing temperatures. I love the snow.

There’s so much to enjoy doing with it, like snowshoeing, cross-country skiing, or whatever takes your fancy. Strap on a pair of snowshoes and head off into the countryside. Warm layered clothing of course and the Inuit Elder saying, “Always know where you are,” indelibly etched inside your head. Better still, grab that backpack, tow that pulk behind you with the heavier gear and head off deep into the wilderness. (Disregard if you don’t know what you’re doing, go with someone who does). The fall and winter, my two favourite seasons. It’s January, so let’s talk about winter.

Imagine heading off, well-equipped, traipsing through the woods, one snowshoe in front of the other. Clear blue sky, not a cloud in sight. You’ll need those sunglasses. The forest, silent. Just the sound of your snowshoes breaking through the snow and the pulk gliding along behind you. The pine trees covered in snow, it’s as though you are walking through a Christmas card. Trails leading up steep hills and down the other side, winding their way through limestone escarpments, over huge granite rocks, rounded smooth by time and weather and the retreating Ice Age. As yet, no panoramic view, you’re not yet high enough, not clear of the tree tops. You’ve got plenty of food as well as jerky you made yourself at home in the dehydrator. Now and again you take a piece out to nibble on, plus a large bag of mixed nuts. One mouthful and you’re firing on all cylinders again. Lots of water, need to keep hydrated. Fire lighting necessities, compass, GPS, four-season tent, winter sleeping bag etc. You’ve got a destination and a return time. Someone will be waiting for you.

Eventually you reach the frozen lake and set up camp on the granite shoreline, long before the sun goes down. Water all around you, clean, white and crisp. The view is spectacular, you’ve got it all to yourself, so magnificent it takes your breath away. You’ve been planning this trip for months. It’s been exhausting getting there. Ten kilometres you’ve hauled yourself and your gear, if you didn’t make your final destination, no problem, set up camp wherever you like.

Beautiful as the scenery is, there’s no time yet to sit and admire it. You can’t help, however, noticing the frozen waterfall on the other side of the lake, incredible. Like nature turned the tap off, suspending the gushing water. In the distance the lake narrows and turns out of view, but I know there’s a portage to the next lake, on the other side of which are steep limestone cliffs. You can catch the sun up there in winter, just lie back and sunbathe.

Back to work, I’ve got my four-season tent to erect first. If the weather breaks, at least I’ll have shelter. Rubber floor mats down, sleeping bag fluffed up, everything ready for a good night’s sleep. Now the fire. Get that going, kettle on the boil, hot tea and shortbread biscuits. Relax. Prepare dinner. As the sun goes down and the cheerful brightness of the day turns to grey, then black, the warmth of the fire brings comfort as does the shot of Crown Royal. Eventually I retire to my sleeping bag and lay there wondering about my sanity.

A thunderous explosion wakes me instantly, the ground begins to shake. Something is hurtling across the lake at high speed towards me, crashing through the ice. The first time I heard it, I thought it was an earthquake, but now I know, it’s a pressure crack in the ice. I’ll likely see the result in the morning. Later in the night the sound of coyotes, a large pack of them running close by the tent, yipping loudly as they plan their ambush upon a white-tailed deer.

A primeval sound.

Your blood runs cold, every sensory nerve inside your body acutely tuned to the sound. Instinctively your hand grasps the handle of the axe resting purposely by your side. Even in the darkness you know exactly where it is. Like the teeth of the coyote, its blade razor sharp. Pristine wilderness. The fair-weather campers have all gone home. You’re probably wondering where I am. I’m not going to tell you. The less people the better.

I’ve had people say to me, “You’re not really Canadian you know.”

I reply, “How long did it take you to get here?”

They look perplexed.

“Nine months,” I say. “Whether you wanted to come or not. It took me over ten years of applying and getting turned down and applying again and through sheer determination I finally got here.”

I wanted to come to Canada ever since I was a boy. I still vividly remember some of the slides they showed us at primary school in England when I was about seven. I was hooked. My journey isn’t even worthy of discussion compared with many immigrants from war-ravaged countries. Having been to many places around the world, I can say with authority, Canada is among the most hospitable, magnificent, outstandingly beautiful countries in the world. It’s not perfect, but when I listen to the world news, I thank my lucky stars I’m here. Canada’s been good to me and I’ve been good to Canada. And, I am now a very proud Canadian with a certificate to prove it! Sincerely, from the heart, thank you Canada.    

Viewing the Northern Lights (Aurora borealis)

The Canadian Geographic website has a really nice interactive map where you can pinpoint the best spots to see the eerily beautiful Northern Lights.  Click on the image to go to the interactive website.

THE AURORA BOREALIS AND AURORA AUSTRALIS

The following information is quoted from the NOAA website:

"The Aurora Borealis (Northern Lights) and Aurora Australis (Southern Lights) are the result of electrons colliding with the upper reaches of Earth’s atmosphere. (Protons cause faint and diffuse aurora, usually not easily visible to the human eye.) The electrons are energized through acceleration processes in the downwind tail (night side) of the magnetosphere and at lower altitudes along auroral field lines. The accelerated electrons follow the magnetic field of Earth down to the Polar Regions where they collide with oxygen and nitrogen atoms and molecules in Earth’s upper atmosphere. In these collisions, the electrons transfer their energy to the atmosphere thus exciting the atoms and molecules to higher energy states. When they relax back down to lower energy states, they release their energy in the form of light. This is similar to how a neon light works. The aurora typically forms 80 to 500 km above Earth’s surface.

Earth’s magnetic field guides the electrons such that the aurora forms two ovals approximately centered at the magnetic poles. During major geomagnetic storms these ovals expand away from the poles such that aurora can be seen over most of the United States. Aurora comes in several different shapes. Often the auroral forms are made of many tall rays that look much like a curtain made of folds of cloth. During the evening, these rays can form arcs that stretch from horizon to horizon. Late in the evening, near midnight, the arcs often begin to twist and sway, just as if a wind were blowing on the curtains of light. At some point, the arcs may expand to fill the whole sky, moving rapidly and becoming very bright. This is the peak of what is called an auroral substorm.  Then in the early morning the auroral forms can take on a more cloud-like appearance. These diffuse patches often blink on and off repeatedly for hours, then they disappear as the sun rises in the east. The best place to observe the aurora is under an oval shaped region between the north and south latitudes of about 60 and 75 degrees. At these polar latitudes, the aurora can be observed more than half of the nights of a given year.

When space weather activity increases and more frequent and larger storms and substorms occur, the aurora extends equatorward. During large events, the aurora can be observed as far south as the US, Europe, and Asia. During very large events, the aurora can be observed even farther from the poles. . Of course, to observe the aurora, the skies must be clear and free of clouds. It must also be dark so during the summer months at auroral latitudes, the midnight sun prevents auroral observations."  

Source:  http://www.swpc.noaa.gov/phenomena/aurora

A New Point of View by Kathy Fisher-Brown

On our sister blog, INSIDE BOOKS WE LOVE, Kathy shared a wonderful look at the beginning of her voyage to writing her novel  for the Canadian Historical Brides series.

"As a writer, I’m used to having ideas for my books come to me in a variety of ways. Sometimes a dream will set the trigger that sends my mind racing to sort out characters, plot, subplot(s), the whats, wheres, whys, and whens. Sometimes I’ll read something that sparks the imagination. Most of the time, I take months—even years—to let the idea germinate before I begin the preliminary work, the research, exploring appropriate character and place names and settings. Usually I don’t start the actual writing until my mind begins to bubble over, no longer able to contain the story. By this time, I can’t stop myself from hitting the keyboard, often writing away for countless hours at a clip, unaware of the passage of time.

But never in all my years have I been presented with a concept and been forced to come up with a story based on a theme.

All that changed when Jude Pittman, the publisher of Books We Love, asked me to participate in an exciting new project now known as “The Canadian Historical Brides” series.

For my story, I chose Quebec Province, a place I’d visited a few times in my youth on family vacations, and twice since while an undergraduate in college…well over 45 years ago. I had no idea what I’d gotten myself into. From that moment, I found myself scrambling. What did I know about Canadian history? (My answer, in retrospect, was “close to zilch.”)

My writing partner for the project, BWL Canadian author Ron Ady Crouch, and I tossed some ideas back and forth. We did some reading and preliminary research, settling on an idea only to toss it aside for any number of reasons before agreeing on another period in history. Neither of us had ever worked before with another writer, and Ron, who specializes in contemporary mystery and suspense, had never written a historical.

We soon found ourselves steeped in information-gathering. An overwhelming prospect for one who’d never taken on anything like this before. For me, it was eye-opening."

You can find the rest of the post HERE

The Beauty of Canada by Victoria Chatham

 As a child living in England, Canada to me was that big country across the North Atlantic. My earliest recollections of references to it were of the Rocky Mountains and canoeing on crystal-clear lakes. Later, I learned about the Calgary Stampede, never imagining that I would eventually make Calgary my home.

On my first trip to Canada, the flight followed the northern route over the north pole and, as we flew across Hudson Bay, my very first impression was of the abundance of water. The surface of the Bay shimmered in the morning sunlight, but it was the lakes, rivers, creeks and tributaries which sparkled in diamond-bright links through the land that made me catch my breath in wonder.

From the air, Saskatchewan looked like a patchwork quilt, and the passenger beside me explained that each patch was a section of six hundred and forty acres, give or take. I was pretty good at mental arithmetic, but I

quickly gave up trying to calculate the total number of acres beneath me. I've always liked a window seat so I can see whatever there is to see, but I had no idea that the chain of the Rocky Mountains, many of their peaks still capped with snow even though it was July, would be in full view all the way into Calgary. Since that first trip, I've traveled to many places in Alberta and British Columbia but no further east than Moose Jaw, in Saskatchewan.

That might not sound very exciting, but I loved Moose Jaw for its history. Murals depicting that history decorate the sides of buildings and then there are the stories of the tunnels which were first dug by Chinese immigrants and later became notorious for their connection with prohibition and bootlegging.

I've wandered through farmer's markets in many small towns, appreciating the produce and people, sampling artisan bread and cheese, organic wine, and home cured meats. I've had chocolate tea and wood smoked coffee and only in a market would you hear snippets of conversation about a bear chasing alpacas around the yard or geese stripping the lower branches of hazelnut trees.

Wherever I go, I see new vistas and have new experiences, each one building a new memory for me. It might be a memory of one of those iconic crystal-clear lakes or majestic mountains. It might be the gentle rise and fall of the foothills or the patterns of breeze-blown prairie grass. It can be river courses and deep, scarred canyons cradling dinosaur remains. It can be fantastic cloud formations carrying a rainstorm or winter frost and always above it that big, big sky.

I’ve hiked trails in ancient forests, rode horseback across mountain meadows and heard stories of the land from First Nations people. I've seen killer whales in the Juan de Fuca Straits, buffalo in southern Alberta and finally, after twenty-six years and where I'd least expected to see them, moose.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder but Canada's beauty can be found wherever you choose to look.

NOW AVAILABLE

BUY NOW

Welcome to Ontario! by Nancy M Bell

Hello everyone and Happy New Year! This is my first post for the Books We Love Canadian Historical Brides Blog. My story is set in Ontario, starting in the Renfrew area near Arnprior and Ottawa and then moving to SPrucedale which is near Georgian Bay and the tourist town of Huntsville. Interesting side tidbit here, Hunstville is the home town of Bobby Orr of Boston Bruin fame. His brother has a sports store in town. But I digress. I live in Alberta now, but I grew up in Ontario and spent my summers in the Kawartha Lakes district. My mother was born in a log cabin near Doe Lake which is just outside Sprucedale. This story is very roughly based on my maternal grandparent's story and takes place during World War 1. I will share more on the story later but first let me show how beautiful this part of Ontario is. The pictures below were taken near the Maple Syrup House which is just north of Burk's Falls and south of Sundridge, Ontario. It is mixed bush with many maples and pines. Moose, bear, deer and many other animals call it home.

These are from a lovely trail through the bush where I encountered a moose but didn't manage to get a picture.

Since it's New Year's Day I'm not going to keep you any longer. Wishing you a happy and prosperous new year and hope to see you here often. Oh, almost forgot, the title of my novel is His Brother's Bride and it is scheduled to release the end of February 2017.

Happy Birthday Canada and Happy New Year to all!!!

HAPPY 150th BIRTHDAY CANADA!!!

The Government of Canada website has some information on celebrations that will be occurring across the nation to celebrate 150 years!

and to the rest of the world ... 

AULD LANG SYNE

Modern English Version

Should old acquaintance be forgot,

and never brought to mind?

Should old acquaintance be forgot,

and old lang syne?

CHORUS:

For auld lang syne, my dear,

for auld lang syne,

we'll take a cup of kindness yet,

for auld lang syne.

And surely you’ll buy your pint cup!

and surely I’ll buy mine!

And we'll take a cup o’ kindness yet,

for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We two have run about the slopes,

and picked the daisies fine;

But we’ve wandered many a weary foot,

since auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We two have paddled in the stream,

from morning sun till dine;

But seas between us broad have roared

since auld lang syne.

CHORUS

And there’s a hand my trusty friend!

And give me a hand o’ thine!

And we’ll take a right good-will draught,

for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

Burns' Original Scots Verse

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

and never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

and auld lang syne?

CHORUS:

For auld lang syne, my jo,

for auld lang syne,

we’lltak' a cup o’ kindness yet,

for auld lang syne.

And surely ye’ll be your pint-stoup!

and surely I’ll be mine!

And we’ll tak' a cup o’ kindness yet,

for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We twa hae run about the braes,

and pou’d the gowans fine;

But we’ve wander’d mony a weary fit,

sin' auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We twa hae paidl’d in the burn,

frae morning sun till dine;

But seas between us braid hae roar’d

sin' auld lang syne.

CHORUS

And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere!

and gie's a hand o’ thine!

And we’ll tak' a right gude-willie waught,

for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

THE HISTORY OF THE SONG:

Auld Lang Syne derives from a 1788 Scots poem by Robert Burns; and is now set to the tune of a traditional folk song. Burns never intended his work to act as a farewell to the old year; it's a piece which partially reproduces, partially originally pens an older folk tune.   

The phrase "for auld lang syne" essentially boils down to "for (the sake of) old times". It's a work which essentially calls for the preservation of our oldest, dearest friendships; perhaps observed in the reflective quality of New Year's Eve itself. A time when people come together to recall past joys and sorrows, specifically those spent in each other's company. 

~ http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/music/news/auld-lang-syne-lyrics-all-the-words-to-the-new-years-eve-classic-a6791761.html