Duffer Golf: it’s an outdoor pursuit not easily explained to detractors.

The short description is that you hit a small white ball many times with a variety of clubs. The goal is to hit the ball into a small hole way off in the distance. It can be played outdoors in southwestern Alberta about eight months of the year, longer for diehards.

It’s rare that the game itself is the attraction – only when the ball actually goes where you had intended. The company is usually good, although club- and curse-throwers can be trying.

The outdoors part of the pursuit is important, notwithstanding Wii.

Most duffer golfers can hit the odd really good shot. They feel good about that and can endure many bad shots pursuing the next good one. But, generally they’re out because the weather is good, or they’re trying to improve their game, or, as Jim told me, to improve his personality.

Perhaps all three reasons were at play when Roger, Wilf and I teed off the other day. A young fellow with shiny new everything joined us. Our normal expectation is that young golfers have flexibility we never dreamed of or can’t remember. Their swings are effortless and they hit balls out of sight. Not always straight, but far.

We had hit our drives and watched Steve. He seemed a bit nervous. His first shot went 20 yards to the right, across the cart path and into the rough on the adjacent hole. Nearly hit a golfer addressing his chip shot.

Being courteous and generous are admirable golfer traits. That’s why on putts within three feet, or five, you say, “pick it up.” Or, if a drive is grass-burner, you say; “Well, it’s closer to the hole than it was.” Anyway, Roger said, “Try another one.” Steve’s second shot went straight, but not far: about 50 yards this time. It took him four to get to the fairway beyond the rough.

We all felt badly for him. It seems impossible not to offer words of encouragement even when the recipient is clearly already embarrassed and wishes he could just hide behind a tree.

So he hit his next shot behind a tree.

I didn’t exactly keep track, but I’m sure his score on the first hole was about triple par. He’d already figured out, I’m sure, that if you’re having a bad game, you can do a number of things about it:

• Convince yourself a bad day on the golf course is better than a good day at the office.

• Stop counting stokes.

• Stop playing after the fifth hole, as Steve did. “I have to go to work,” he said.

We speculated that it was his first time playing the game, because all of his equipment looked brand new. We never got a chance to offer one last word of encouragement: keep at it – it can only get better. As we all know.

It’s hard to explain.

We’re blessed in Southwestern Alberta with an abundance of spectacular, scenic spaces where we experience the outdoors in infinite ways. But, few can top the Castle-Crown wilderness for its beauty, biodiversity and recreational opportunities.

Problem is, there’s fear we’ll either love or exploit it to death.

Had it remained as part of Waterton Lakes National Park, its protection would have been assured. But in 1921, it was removed from park boundaries because two federal departments were playing politics. It has since gone through a number of changes that have fallen short of necessary control of human activity for the sake of its sensitive environment.

A grass-roots organization has been meeting in Pincher Creek since June trying to define how the Castle-Crown might be protected. The committee evolved from a meeting last fall at which the province outlined a process that would lead to greater protection.

 It’s tough to bring 20 or more people representing diverse interests together in a province that relishes minimal control or regulation. But most at the table are fairly certain more protection of this roughly 1,040 square kilometers in our backyard is needed and will ultimately be the result.

For one thing, the Castle River and its tributaries provide about 30 per cent of the drainage of the entire Eastern Slopes of the Rockies. That water keeps about a quarter-million people downstream from going thirsty. That is enough for provincial authorities to send up a flag. It’s the nature of control needed that’s not universally accepted.

Since 1998 called the Castle Special Place, its boundaries are Waterton Park, the B.C-Alberta border, the Castle-Crowsnest watershed divide, and the Forest Reserve east boundary. A West Castle Wetlands Ecological Reserve and a Castle Special Management Area Forest Land Use Zone have been established. That covers about 2 square km, leaving 1,038 square km under-protected.

It’s cherished for its skiing, hiking, angling, motorized recreational vehicle riding, camping – the list goes on. Add to that industrial development and you have the potential for conflict with the environment.

The discussions have been delicate. It’s tough to project just what might result, but some principles that got the nod this week generally focus on limiting activities that would harm the area’s ecological integrity while maintaining public ownership, access and traditional recreational and cultural uses. The target is to complete a proposal in six months that can be taken to the local MLA, Tourism, Parks & Recreation Minister and, ultimately, the public.

The province’s guidelines list as options Ecological Reserve, Wilderness Area, Wildland Park, Heritage Rangeland, Provincial Park, Provincial Recreation Area and Natural Area or a combination. The province has also set preservation, heritage appreciation, outdoor recreation and heritage tourism as goals for parks or protected areas.

The working group includes organizations such as the Crowsnest Conservation Society, Nature Conservancy of Canada, Castle-Crown Wilderness Coalition Lethbridge Fish and Game Association, Southern Alberta Bowhunters Association, and Royal Dutch Shell Canada. Local governments and ATV users are not yet formally part of discussions.

Stay tuned.

Monday 3:44 p.m. GMT marks the Autumnal Equinox, the official beginning of fall. Summer’s end. We know it’s here because the sun shines lower in the southern sky. We wait for Indian summer to balance the chilly night air.

It means the sun’s rays beat directly on the equator and there’s as much daylight as darkness.

Seasonal changes come with their own traditions. The next-door neighbor celebrates the Spring Solstice with a garden get-together. A group of fly-fishers gathers on the Crowsnest River each year at the Winter Solstice. Harvest rituals come attached to the Autumnal Equinox.

According to Celtic lore, autumn’s beginning, called Mabon, signals a time to pay our respects to the impending dark and give thanks to the waning sunlight. The equinox honors The Green Man, the God of the Forest, by offering libations to trees, ciders, wines and herbs. Among autumn activities are gathering seed pods, walking in the woods, scattering offerings in harvested fields and adorning burial sites with leaves, acorns, and pine cones to honor those who have passed.

It’s also a time of balance, when we enjoy the fruits of our personal harvests, whether it’s gardening, working, raising families, or just coping with everyday life.

For some, like a core group of Henderson Lake golfers, autumn signals a move from the links to the rinks at The Lethbridge Curling Club. For others, it’s a time to change gear – in storage go the fishing pole, sailboard and garden shears, out come the rifle and rake. Hardcore cyclists, runners and hikers simply dress differently when the seasons change.

Clearly, the seasons relate to how we approach the outdoors. Something compels us to spend time outside. Open Air Magazine released a survey this month of 1,027 adults who were asked what they most look forward to outdoors. Exercise topped the list, followed by inspiration, solitude, forgetting about work and companionship.

For me it can be all those things. When I’m fishing on the river, it doesn’t matter if I catch a rainbow – it’s part of the pot of gold, the total package that leaves me in awe of what we have in Southern Alberta. Expect regular reflections on the wonders of the Prairies, the Porcupines, the unique ecosystems of Waterton and the Castle-Crown and upper Oldman drainages, the infinite natural phenomena they hold and the ways we enjoy them.

This weekend, for example, the TD Friends of The Environment Great Canadian Shoreline Clean-up will focus on the Crowsnest River today and Oldman River in Lethbridge Sunday. The Crowsnest clean-up from 10 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. is organized by the Crowsnest Conservation Society. Meet at Sobey’s parking lot in Blairmore. The local effort by Helen Schuler Coulee Centre and Oldman Watershed Council staff starts at 2 p.m. in the Nature Centre parking lot.

Beyond that, watch for discussion of issues in our corner of the world.

To borrow from Celtic lore: may your Mabon be memorable, and your hearts and spirits be filled to overflowing.