Our World Tuesday: Bose Farm

My husband and I have been known to trespass.

 Although  generally law-abiding citizens who realize rules are in place for a reason, it must be admitted that on occasion our innate curiosity overrides common sense. 

 

The old Dairy Barn

 (In our defence, we would never vandalize property...it's surprising how often entryways are inadvertently left open to allow easy entry.)

 A favourite spot to visit on our Sunday jaunts has been  the Bose Farm near our house, long left to the vagaries of time and weather. 

 We have passed this pretty knoll many times in the years we've lived in Surrey, and watched the buildings on it deteriorate with each passing year. 

When a whole chunk of the old barn succumbed and tumbled to the ground last summer, it was the end of an era for us.

Some of the farm's outbuildings have been demolished; others will be renovated in the name of local colour.

  Long slated for redevelopment, the bulk of the land is slated to be filled with high-end condominiums.

Progress cannot be stopped, nor should it be, but I will definitely miss how proudly the big old barn stood watch over Bose Road for as long as I have lived nearby.  

I will miss its shabby elegance.

 

And though I should regret stepping in to catch sight of life in the old days, I am very glad to have these photos to bring back the peace of an afternoon spent watching  sunshine slant through weathered boards.

For more views from around the world, check out the link below...

http://ourworldtuesdaymeme.blogspot.ca/

J is for Jaunt

                    Jaunt: A short excursion or journey for pleasure

Jaunt" is one of my favourite words. I like the way it pops cheerily out of the mouth...and am always drawn in by the lure it calls up of a sudden and enticing getaway...a dash of fun and excitement in the day where none was expected.

 One can certainly plan jaunts, but I think they are best enjoyed when presented out of the blue. My husband and I are always open to the possibility of jaunts, finding ourselves easily able to adjust if a change of direction is offered up. 

One day last week, we set out in late morning for a bit of a drive. We had no destination in mind, but found out that the further along the road we went, the further still we wanted to go. 

Our short drive turned into a round trip of 650 kilometres. We considered stopping when we got to Abbotsford, but continued on past Hope and Chilliwack, and then onto the Coquihalla Highway, ending up in Merritt. Home to the fabulous Merritt Mountain Music Festival held every summer, the town was a quiet and rustic spot to explore on this September afternoon.

Of course, the main rule of road trips  is that one never goes back the same way one came if it can be avoided, which is why we switched to the old Trans Canada Highway and made our way over to Lytton for supper.  

Lytton well deserves its reputation as B.C.'s hot spot, and is also where the Thompson River empties into the mighty Fraser.

It is interesting to see the very clear difference in colours as the waters come together.

I am always fascinated by topography but had forgotten the wide variety that presents itself in B.C.'s Fraser Canyon.

Of course, I also kept my eyes open for ramshackle buildings long abandoned, and was not disappointed in finding a few.

From dry, scrubby hills to well-watered pastures, there was variety enough in the landscape to excite my photographer's eye, though many of these shots were, of necessity, taken from the swiftly moving car.

There was little time to stop if we wanted to make it home before the day was done.

Landslides are common in this part of the province...evidence of their power is to be found everywhere.

By the time we headed homeward, the light was long gone, but we carried back with us the knowledge that we had packed a bounty of pleasure and beauty into this particular day....

For more takes on the letter "J", do stop by ABC Wednesday at the link below....

http://abcwednesday-mrsnesbitt.blogspot.ca

Busted!

I so enjoyed the response to my trespassing post yesterday that I thought to share a tale about one of the rare times we’ve been busted.

 Our road trip through Utah last fall ended in Salt Lake City, our departure city for the flight home. As often happens, we had no plan for our last day, deciding randomly to head north and cross into Wyoming for lunch, (just because we could).

The scenic back roads served to heighten our awe at the sheer scope and majesty of this state. And when I spotted a collection of timeworn buildings at the side of the road, it was a given we would stop for a look. A fellow traveler in full motorcycle gear was regarding the ‘No Entry’ sign with disappointment as we approached…clearly a more law-abiding citizen than either of us! With cheeky grins, we edged through the wide fence slats and were not surprised that the stranger soon followed our lead.

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Such beauty there was in the weathered wood, the rusted hulks of trucks and the pale grass that was steadily reclaiming everything! I almost forgot to take pictures, so interested was I in poking carefully about.

Our peaceful exploration was soon interrupted by a loud screech and rattle as a dusty pickup roared up to the front of the gate. Out of it climbed a young -and very angry- cowboy…the property owner who had spotted us from across the fields.

We made our way quickly and contritely back to the gate to accept our well-deserved lecture on the dangers of breaking the law. It does seem proof of my incorrigibility that while hanging my head in repentance, I could think only that I’d love to get a picture of this wonderful, fierce defender whose cowboy hat bore the sweat stains of hard work, and whose duster coat and battered boots made clear he was the real thing!

We did apologize – profusely and sincerely…it would never be our wish to offend anyone or cause harm to private property. I seek only to preserve in photographs the worn, forgotten memories of times past.

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While he remained understandably irked by our disregard for his sign, the landowner calmed himself when he saw we had taken nothing but pictures. Others have not been so restrained…he told tales of many things pilfered away over the years by looters hoping to profit from this small piece of history.

We most certainly deserved what we got…had this man called the police, who knows what mess we would have been in outside our own country!  But seriously…could you pass by this glorious collection of buildings and cars long abandoned, and not stop to admire? Clearly, we cannot…

I do, however, feel bad that our unwitting partner-in-crime had to bear the tongue-lashing with us…no doubt he would have resisted temptation had not we led him astray. Courting trouble for ourselves is not new, but I think we’re seldom a bad influence on others. Still, you might not want to ask our children about that last bit…:)

Sunday Rambling

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For us, Sunday is a day to wander. With our little dog in tow, my husband and I explore places near and far, changing plans and directions as the mood takes us. Yesterday, we set out for the shore, only to come across a local park we had not been to before. We ended up staying for the afternoon and never did make it to the beach.

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I knew it was the right choice when we came across one of the abandoned buildings that I so love to photograph.

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Watershed Park is so named because of an underground aquifer that feeds into the neighbourhood water works.
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The derelict remains of an old pumping station immediately captured my attention, and unlike the places we so often explore, there was no sign prohibiting entry!

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I might have wished for better light in which to photograph. After an uncommonly hot, dry summer, we've slammed into a gray and damp September. Our normally lush, coastal rainforests are subdued and pale
and the sun has hidden itself away.
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That did not deter me from taking shots as I wandered through the brambles and moss that had overtaken the ruins.
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The park is mostly evergreen, and the odd bright tree stands out like an exclamation point against the darker background.

Continuing on the trail, I focused on the many nurse trees our forests have in abundance as new life begins in old stumps.

Already, the air had the rich, earthy smell of Autumn, and a layer of dampness lightly coated the leaves.
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Shiny salal and skunk cabbage peeked out from the trees, and tall, purple columbine peopled the paths edge.
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We had the park mainly to ourselves. Families of shcool-age children would be at the mall in search of back-to-school clothes, or tracking down the
inevitable list of stationery needs. With no such concerns,
we wandered at leisure, watching our own playful pup as fondly as if she were a child.

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As it neared time to leave, the sun finally put in an appearance, laying pretty dappled patterns across the crunchy gravel path and softening the air. I took a few last shots, packed away my camera and we set off to Starbucks, our normal way to finish off each Sunday walk!

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It was a very good afternoon indeed...

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