Takakkaw River

These photos were taken at the Takakkaw River in Yoho National Park.  the word "takakkaw" meant "magnificent" in the Cree language.

"Streams of Water"

"As the deer pants for streams of water,

so my soul pants for you, my God."  Psalm 42:1

Cabin On the Athabasca

This was the view from the cabin where we stayed for four days.  There were nature trails along the river bank.  It was a beautiful spot to experience the park.

Misty Mountains Cold

 
 


FAR OVER THE MISTY MOUNTAINS COLD


Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To seek the pale enchanted gold.

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.

For ancient king and elvish lord
There many a gleaming golden hoard
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.

On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, in twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.

Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away, ere break of day,
To claim our long-forgotten gold.

Goblets they carved there for themselves
And harps of gold; where no man delves
There lay they long, and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves.

The pines were roaring on the height,
The winds were moaning in the night.
The fire was red, it flaming spread;
The trees like torches blazed with light.

The bells were ringing in the dale
And men they looked up with faces pale;
The dragon’s ire more fierce than fire
Laid low their towers and houses frail.

The mountain smoked beneath the moon;
The dwarves they heard the tramp of doom.
They fled their hall to dying fall
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.

Far over the misty mountains grim
To dungeons deep and caverns dim
We must away, ere break of day,
To win our harps and gold from him!


Far over the misty mountains cold is a poem found within the chapter "An Unexpected Party" of The Hobbit.  By J.R.R. Tolkien

Lady of Shalott

The Lady of Shalott (1832)    

By Alfred, Lord Tennyson   

        

Part I

On either side the river lie

Long fields of barley and of rye,

That clothe the wold and meet the sky;

And thro' the field the road runs by

       To many-tower'd Camelot;

The yellow-leaved waterlily

The green-sheathed daffodilly

Tremble in the water chilly

       Round about Shalott.

Willows whiten, aspens shiver.

The sunbeam showers break and quiver

In the stream that runneth ever

By the island in the river

       Flowing down to Camelot.

Four gray walls, and four gray towers

Overlook a space of flowers,

And the silent isle imbowers

       The Lady of Shalott.

"Before the Mountains were Born

"Before the mountains were born Or You gave birth to the earth and the world, Even from everlasting to everlasting, You are God."   Psalm 90:2

Athabasca Glacier

The Athabasca Glacier is one of the six principal 'toes' of the Columbia Icefield, located in the Canadian Rockies.

Flathead River

Psalm 104:10        

  He sends forth springs in the valleys; They flow between the mountains;

Mushroom Peak

Ecclesiastes 11:3  If the clouds are full, they pour out rain upon the earth; and whether a tree falls toward the south or toward the north, wherever the tree falls, there it lies.

Banff Mountain

Psalm 147:8
Who covers the heavens with clouds, Who provides rain for the earth, Who makes grass to grow on the mountains.

Bridal Veil Falls

Sonnet 03: Mindful Of You The Sodden Earth In Spring

Mindful of you the sodden earth in spring,
And all the flowers that in the springtime grow,
And dusty roads, and thistles, and the slow
Rising of the round moon, all throats that sing
The summer through, and each departing wing,
And all the nests that the bared branches show,
And all winds that in any weather blow,
And all the storms that the four seasons bring.

You go no more on your exultant feet
Up paths that only mist and morning knew,
Or watch the wind, or listen to the beat
Of a bird's wings too high in air to view,—
But you were something more than young and sweet
And fair,—and the long year remembers you.

Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950)

"Time does not bring relief”

“Time does not bring relief; you all have lied”    

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied   

Who told me time would ease me of my pain!   

I miss him in the weeping of the rain;   

I want him at the shrinking of the tide;

The old snows melt from every mountain-side,   

And last year’s leaves are smoke in every lane;   

But last year’s bitter loving must remain

Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.   

There are a hundred places where I fear   

To go,—so with his memory they brim.   

And entering with relief some quiet place   

Where never fell his foot or shone his face   

I say, “There is no memory of him here!”   

And so stand stricken, so remembering him.
By Edna St. Vincent Millay  (1892-1950)

Morant's Curve

Morant’s Curve is located on the western end of the Bow Valley Parkway near Lake Louise. It’s a beautiful spot that the railway passes through.

Down Bow River

Down the River

Henry Lawson, 1909

I've done with joys an' misery,

       An' why should I repine?
There's no one knows the past but me
       An' that ol' dog o' mine.
We camp an' walk an' camp an' walk,
       An' find it fairly good;
He can do anything but talk,
       An' he wouldn't if he could.

We sits an' thinks beside the fire,
       With all the stars a-shine,
An' no one knows our thoughts but me
       An' that there dog o' mine.
We has our Johnny-cake an' "scrag,"
       An' finds 'em fairly good;
He can do anything but talk,
       An' he wouldn't if he could.

He gets a 'possum now an' then,
       I cooks it on the fire;
He has his water, me my tea —
       What more could we desire?
He gets a rabbit when he likes,
       We finds it pretty good;
He can do anything but talk,
       An' he wouldn't if he could.

I has me smoke, he has his rest,
       When sunset's gettin' dim;
An' if I do get drunk at times,
       It's all the same to him.
So long's he's got me swag to mind,
       He thinks that times is good;
He can do anything but talk,
       An' he wouldn't if he could.

He gets his tucker from the cook,
       For cook is good to him,
An' when I sobers up a bit,
       He goes an' has a swim.
He likes the rivers where I fish,
       An' all the world is good;
He can do anything but talk,
       An' he wouldn't if he could.

Little Lodge On The Prairie

On the way out of Waterton Lakes Park the lodge is dwarfed next to the mountain peaks. 

Waterton River

Waterton River is located in Waterton Lakes National Park and is part of the South Saskatchewan River Basin.  The highway basically followed the river abundant with wildlife and waterfalls.

Cameron Lake

Waterton National Park in the Canadian Rocky Mountains is bear country.  The large brown bear was enjoying eating flowers on the road side to Cameron Lake.

Maligne Valley

Scenic views from Maligne Valley in Jasper National Park.  The valley is on the way to Maligne Canyon.

Mountains Thrilling to the Stars

 
 
 
 
 

Nothing like getting a lift on a gondola that takes you up 6,850 feet to look across the mountain range, valley and Lake Louise.  This is the most beautiful scenery in the entire Rocky Mountains in North America.  The breathtaking peaks of the Canadian Rockies make the Colorado Rockies look like hills.  The bonus is there is a restaurant on top and the burgers are cowboy size and delicious!

A Jewel of Lakes

 

Moraine Lake is breathtaking from the ten peaks to the turquoise waters.  It is a shining, glistening jewel among the ten peaks.

Moraine Lake Valley of the Ten Peaks

The Mountain And The Lake


I know a mountain thrilling to the stars,
Peerless and pure, and pinnacled with snow;
Glimpsing the golden dawn o'er coral bars,
Flaunting the vanisht sunset's garnet glow;
Proudly patrician, passionless, serene;
Soaring in silvered steeps where cloud-surfs break;
Virgin and vestal -- Oh, a very Queen!
And at her feet there dreams a quiet lake.

My lake adores my mountain -- well I know,
For I have watched it from its dawn-dream start,
Stilling its mirror to her splendid snow,
Framing her image in its trembling heart;
Glassing her graciousness of greening wood,
Kissing her throne, melodiously mad,
Thrilling responsive to her every mood,
Gloomed with her sadness, gay when she is glad.

My lake has dreamed and loved since time was born;
Will love and dream till time shall cease to be;
Gazing to Her in worship half forlorn,
Who looks towards the stars and will not see --
My peerless mountain, splendid in her scorn. . . .
Alas! poor little lake! Alas! poor me!                       
                                               

by Robert William Service (1874-1958)

Peaks of the Mountain

In whose hand are the depths of the earth, The peaks of the mountains are His also.
Psalm 95:4

Marias Pass

Marias Pass is a high mountain pass near Glacier National Park in northwestern Montana. The above photograph is the Lewis overthrust, viewed from Marias Pass.