Heidi Greco's Blog, page 19

A Tail of Two Countries

Because part of my morning included a drive to the airport, I had occasion to drive along one of my favourite roads, Zero Avenue. 

That may seem like an odd name for a street, but considering where it's located, it makes perfect sense. 

It runs along the Canada/US boundary, a space that for years has been proudly known as the world's longest undefended border. And yes, the trees and greenery on the right side of the road are the USA while those on the left are Canada. As for who paints the yellow line on the road, I'm not sure. 

Sadly, though it may be undefended by military forces, the border hasn't been open for travel for over a year and a half -- at least not to those of us from Canada who might want to head south. And yes, we all know (and are probably tired of) the reason for that. 

But on such a beautiful day as this one, I can't bear to dwell on anything negative. 

Instead I'll just offer a small explanation of the silly title I gave this post. 

Both when I was driving east on Zero and when I was going westward towards home, I spotted a bit of wildlife (okay, just a black squirrel) and who knows, maybe it was the same critter both times, but he (she?) was crossing the border, something I'm still not permitted to do.  

And I must admit, I am looking forward to be able to exercise the same freedom as that squirrel indulged in. 

Long time coming

Today is the first time we in Canada are observing National Day for Truth and Reconciliation. Many businesses are closed, though not all. As is so often the case with a newly introduced tradition, it takes some of us longer to learn than others. 

I was fortunate to be in Victoria, our provincial seat of government, earlier this week. It was good to see the steps of the Legislature Building filled with reminders of the 215 children whose graves were discovered earlier this year. 

Even wet with rain, the memorial to them evokes sadness -- and for some of us, difficult memories of our own, especially recollections of experience with actions taken in the name of religion. 
I was especially pleased when this morning's 'Poetry Pause' from the League of Canadian Poets arrived in my inbox, as it was "Angels: 215" a poem written by our current Parliamentary Poet Laureate, Louise Bernice Halfe / Sky Dancer. Not only is she our country's first Indigenous Poet Laureate, she knows all too well the experience of residential schools. And in case you'd like a poem emailed to you every day, here's a link to the form where you can sign up. 

The message, "Every Child Matters" is important and one we can only hope will soon become universally true, one that will remain true always.  

Aside from listening to different broadcasts today, this little post is about all I am able to do. That and wear my own orange shirt. I did at least do my best to buy a new shirt with a design that was created by an Indigenous artist. 

I felt fortunate to find one bearing the work of Art W. Charlie II, a man from near Tofino here in B.C. 

For the sake of a river

Yesterday was World Rivers Day, but it seemed -- at least around here -- pretty much nobody noticed. 

This seemed a bit odd, especially as Rivers Day apparently had its origins here in British Columbia and was founded by water protector and advocate Mark Angelo. \

I tried to find out about some way I could defend our local river, the Little Campbell, which is threatened by development that's bound to harm it and the salmon who remain there, but my efforts were futile; I was not able to connect with anyone who could help me figure out to show support for protecting it. 

The river in the photo above is the Similkameen, the one that runs behind our favourite campsite in Manning Park, the one we were lucky enough to stay in two weeks ago. 

Maybe I'll have to go back there to find a way to show my honour and respect for one of our rivers.  

C-change, I suspect

The more commonly used term is 'sea change' which means a big shift, and not one just pertaining to the ocean. 

The big shift I am anticipating (and somewhat bracing for) might in truth be more of a C-change, meaning a change in Canada as a result of today's election. 

Oddly, it happens that others refer to such thing as 'C-change' which turns out to be something called an eggcorn -- something that sounds like the word one actually means. 

At least I was able to prepare myself for whatever might be ahead by a week of being offline, camping in the comfort of our funny old RV at Manning Park. We weren't at the resort, but at the same site we'd stayed in last year on the bank of the Similkameen River, under the shade of a very tall cottonwood and a mix of conifers. 

So, I guess I have to say, whatever the votes might bring, bring it on. All we can do is look for brighter days ahead. 

Almost there...

Walking through a pile of crispy brown leaves mostly takes me back in time -- to days when my sister and I would build 'rockets' or 'cars' with piled up fallen leaves, always rounding out two 'cockpits' for each of us to sit in. But even riding around in our wildly imaginative vehicles, there's no way we could have envisioned the world of now. 

A global pandemic, showing not enough signs of being controlled. A society where it seems almost unimaginable to be able to buy a home. And, most threatening of all, a world in the midst of the climate emergency. 

I suppose, barely over a week from now, we'll have a new federal government. All I can do is brace for whatever that outcome might be. Yes, I will still vote, though we're one of those ridings where it's mostly pointless to cast a ballot, as a single party has held a tight grip (except for once) for more decades than I care to recall. I can't even vote by conscience this time, as we don't have a Green in the running here. 

But rather than thinking doom and gloom, I am reminding myself that we'll soon be rounding another seasonal corner, this time observing the autumn equinox a time when day and night are equal, a time of balance, at least of the light. That's also the first day we'll be under the sign of Libra, the ruler of balance. 

Looking forward to getting there. 

What happened??

I'm wondering what happened to kindness. 

Not so long ago, we were banging pots at 7 pm, whole neighbourhoods making noise on behalf of health care workers. We were participating in a small collective action to show our appreciation of nurses and doctors and emergency vehicle workers, whose job it is to keep the rest of us safe. 

Today, I had occasion to drive past our local hospital, only to spot protesters lining the sidewalk, waving signs -- a continuation of the anti-vax contingency's insistence on fighting against protective measures that have been enacted. I wonder how many of them will think it's all a hoax, and a conspiracy against their rights if they get sick. 

It has to be discouraging for health care workers to be faced with dissenters who claim they know better than scientists, though what they are basing their 'facts' on is anybody's guess. Worst story to come out of recent protests in Vancouver was this, about an ambulance worker fearing that her patient would die while the rabble impeded the emergency vehicle's progress as they banged their sticks against it. 

What the heck is wrong with people, anyway. 

Up in the air

That's where we were the other, walking through the tree canopy at UBC's Greenheart TreeWalk. Even though we were high up (several storeys at many points along the route), it mostly felt a bit 'swingy' though the rope handles on either side were reassuring enough for even a chicken like me. 

Something I thought about while I was making the walk was the Wallenda family, who made tightrope walking a multi-generational career. I kept trying to keep my feet walking a line that followed the centre of the walkway. This only convinced me I could never have learned to walk on a rope, especially not one that didn't have a catch-net below. Yikes!

The other thing the walkway reminded me of was Robert Louis Stevenson's poem, "The Swing" with its rocking rhythms, so evocative of actually being on a swing. I tried finding a video of a film based on this poem, but none of the ones on YouTube were the one I'd been looking for. A former student of mine made it some years ago. While I was lucky enough to see it once, as she visited and shared it, but sadly, I can't find it anymore. 

Nonetheless, I still like the poem, and I hope maybe you will too. Here's a link to the print version of it. Imagine yourself on a swing as you read it; you might even feel like 'pumping' your legs! And if you feel like taking a vicarious walk on the one out at UBC, click here for a video experience. 

Standard shift

Even though the peaches aren't quite ripe enough to pick, today no longer feels like summer. It's not even a matter of temperature, it's something about this afternoon's light. Maybe it's the angle of the sunlight dappling the boards of the deck -- whatever the cause, it makes me realize that autumn's on its way.  

The blackberries are thick on the vines, and we're still getting a few raspberries for our desserts. The plums down at Lee Street, where we're always encouraged to pick, are just about ready too. Another year with a bounteous supply of fruits. 

I suppose this overabundance may well mean a harsher than usual winter. We'll wait and see about that. 

For now, I'm heading back to the kitchen. Jars are sterilized and shiny, ready for me to make another batch of jam. 

Is there snow on Mars?

And no, I wasn't on Mars, though the light filtering through the smoky skies was eerie enough to feel like I was on the red planet. 

Even though we're far from the many forest fires currently burning in our province, the smoke made its way here, as if reminding us of our interconnectedness and vulnerability. 

The last time I remember this kind of dusting of ash was when Mount St Helens blew her top in 1980. Yes, that ash was thicker, but this had that same quality to it -- as if it were gritty snow. 

I'm washing the vegies and fruits as we pick them from the garden, not something I generally need to do. 

Nonetheless, considering the horrors going on across the world in Afghanistan, where people are not only losing their rights, but their lives as they try to escape, I can only be grateful for smallish annoyances as the ones I've been given.  

Coulda, shoulda

Once upon a time the City of Surrey had the opportunity to make a park. As you can see from the photo, it looks as though they already had one. 
In actuality, it was the site of a nine-hole golf course. But more importantly, the site had several ponds which served as a home to nesting ducks and other migratory birds who stopped by along their flightpaths.

There was also a salmon-bearing stream, now lost. 

Somehow the City Council decided it made more sense to turn it into a parking lot. Maybe they misunderstood Joni Mitchell's song, and thought that a parking lot meant paradise. 

The photo is from autumn of 2004, and those rolling green hills are long gone and paved, part of a shopping complex with a Walmart at its heart. If they'd moved that centre a mere one block to the east, and declared the site as parkland, the thousands of people who now live in the many nearby townhouses built since then, those families would have had a greenspace park. But no, instead they have a place for buying imported goods. No doubt useful in some respects, but hardly the place for a picnic. 

Surrey is once again planning to pave another environmentally sensitive area. And surprise, surprise, despite the fact that the 'public' meeting (which ran until after 2 a.m.) heard from many speakers who presented science-based reasons for opposing the proposed development, Surrey's Mayor McCallum and his four sidekicks on Council voted instead for construction of an industrial park there. And yes, that term has to be one of the most contradictory oxymorons of our time. 

The area where this construction is proposed contains a river where endangered salmon species still live, and is above an aquifer which feeds the wells of many residences. As one of the presenters put it: "Building a series of warehouses above an aquifer -- whose idea was that?!"

The Zoom meeting for public input began in the afternoon and then ran for just over 12 hours. Because I am a person who cares, I was present for the duration. Yet, as has been apparent at other such presentations in the past, it became clear that the elected officials had their minds made up in advance. 

When the five minutes allotted me for my presentation came up (at 10:30 p.m.), I had the unsettling experience of being interrupted by the mayor -- who basically told me to shut up -- an occurrence that rattled me, I admit. I can't help but think that's partly the reason I've had such a hard time getting around to writing this particular post. 

All that I -- and many others -- had hoped for was that the proposal as currently described would be rejected so that it could be revised in a way that would protect the sensitive areas from having warehouses built on them. Warehouses which are being touted as places for employment opportunities for the people of Surrey, despite the fact that more and more warehouse work is being performed by robots, and not people at all. 

So yes, I think this is yet another error in the making by our municipal government, one that will prove to be regretted in the not-so-distant future. All we can hope is that some higher level of government will pronounce the plan as folly and stop it from going forward -- and, with luck, will determine that it's an area worthy enough of protection to be declared as parkland.