Heidi Greco's Blog, page 6

What timing!

Must admit, I was thrilled to discover, just yesterday, that my little batch of autumn crocuses came up again. For a while, the patch of ground they usually inhabit looked sadly vacant. I was ready to blame the squirrels who've been known to dig up many of the bulbs I keep pushing into the soil every autumn. 

I'll admit, these little flowers were 'stolen'--or perhaps, more correctly 'rescued' from the yard of a house that was about to be torn down (and don't get me going on that, way too many perfectly good houses around here keep getting taken down).

This morning saw autumn become official, earlier than when I got up, to be sure, out here in the Pacific Time Zone. 

One thing I didn't get around to doing (but maybe there's still time) was change the filter on our Brita dispenser, something I usually do every equinox or solstice. I rely on the sun to give me these occasional reminders, and generally keep to the schedule. 

I'm looking forward to having those delicate little pink flowers open up, yet another marker of the season. 

Takin' a break

Last week meant a break from all that's 'normal' around here. We set out on a trip to Manning Park, a provincial park that offers the quiet of spending time in forest, without any interference from the demands of being online. For that matter, there's not even a power source (beyond the temporary support of batteries). It's become a kind of tradition to head out on a camping trip during the second week of September, as that's when the kids are back in school and the crowds have departed from the parks. 

Fortunately, the fire ban had been lifted, so we were able to have a campfire every night--a place to sit beside while we sat in comfy deck chairs and entertained ourselves with the old-fashioned simplicity of conversation. 

Daytime was for exploring some of the trails--places we'd been before, but because every year sees changes in the landscape, new sights presented themselves at nearly every turn. 

There's a calm that comes from being away from just about everything that constitutes our daily lives. And really, looking out over the Beaver Pond, hearing nothing more than birdsong and the riffling of leaves, it'd be downright challenging to feel uptight about anything. 

 

A natural bouquet

I guess I'm just a sucker for nature. Sometimes its beauty seems almost too perfect to be real. That's the case with this stand of natural grasses that grow in the shade of our back yard. 

If ever there were a natural bouquet that says 'autumn' in my mind, it would be this batch of grass. 

And I think, even though we haven't yet experienced the equinox (but coming soon, it will arrive here on the west coast on September 22nd at 5:43 a.m.) that autumn is upon us. The batch of mushrooms that I picked the other day serve as one more sign convincing me. 

To all things, yes, there is a season. And in every season there is its own special beauty. 

A dark day in BC

And no, I'm not talking about the weather, though the gloomy skies this afternoon appear to be in agreement. It's a dark day because today is the day BC Hydro has begun filling the reservoir created by the Site C Dam on the Peace River. 

The water will flood 6,649 hectares of farmland. To put that into the more familiar terminology most of us still use, that's just about 16,000 acres. But even that number doesn't really compute as to just how massive this reservoir will be when it's full--and how much arable land we're losing. 

About the closest familiar bit of land that's pretty much equivalent to an acre is a football field. So, if you think about how much food could be grown on one football field, and we're talking 16,000 of them--well, I think you get my drift over how hideous this loss is. 

It gets even worse if you stop to consider how much farmland we keep losing in the Lower Mainland, particularly in Richmond and Surrey where condos, mega-houses, condos and warehouses keep being built, covering our farmland. 

As our climate keeps getting warmer, the tragedy only grows, as there's little doubt the region would soon be capable of growing foods that long had to be grown further south. 

I know, I've been ranting about the folly of this project for a long time, but somehow I tricked myself into thinking it still might not happen. Sadly, it turns out, I was very wrong. 

Now I guess we'll need to find a name for this dreadful new 'lake' that will cover so much. Lake Disappointment? Lake Horrible? How about Lake Despair. 

A harbinger of things to come

Coming out of my local library this afternoon, the world sounded different. There was a kind of rustling, along with a hint of even a different scent. For once, the scent wasn't smoke from a fire up country, it was, I decided, the scent of autumn.

Not even mid-August seems early for this, but maybe I'm some kind of optimist who still doesn't expect any such change until closer to September. Nonetheless, early autumn certainly seemed to be in the air. 

Then, walking to my car, I stopped to chat with a woman who felt the same change I did. So at least it was comforting in a way to know I wasn't alone in my feelings. 

And sure enough, leaves beneath the trees only confirmed these early autumn thoughts. 

I'm counting on more summer ahead, but can't pretend I'm not mindful that the season has already begun its steady shift. 

By the way, I couldn't help but wonder about the word that came to mind earlier: harbinger. As with nearly all the words in our language, it's an oldie and has some interesting history. 

Food matters

The 'theme' of my life this week seems to have been food security. I'm blessed, in that I have a healthy garden that gives me fresh produce every day -- berries, lettuce, and tomatoes -- and beyond that, I have a pantry that's well stocked. Not everyone is so fortunate. 

Saturday was "Ugly Potato" Day, an annual event sponsored by Heppell Family Farm, a good citizen of

Surrey, to be sure. Hundreds of people came out to the Cloverdale Fair Grounds where huge bins filled with potatoes, carrots, and more were there for the picking -- and free. The photo above is an example of one family's load. 

It's a horrifying thought, but the Heppell farmland is under threat, and at a time when our rising population is certainly placing a demand on farmers to produce more, more, more. If, like me, you think protecting that property is a cause worth supporting, maybe you'll consider signing a petition (along with the over 80,000 who have signed) that says so. 

The other threat to our food security has been the unexpected shutdown of the BC Tree Fruits Co-op. It's an association that's existed since 1936 and it's been a facility where growers could store their fruit, have it graded and marketed, and then shipped to outlets. So here we are -- in the midst of harvest, no less -- and who knows what growers are supposed to do without the co-op. Load up their vehicles and drive to the Lower Mainland? Sell produce out of the back of their car??

This bothered me enough that I wrote to Pam Alexis, the Minister of Agriculture and Food, both at her business address as an MLA and to the address for the Ministry. I cc'ed my local MLA and also sent a copy to the Vancouver Sun. 

The first reply I received was from an assistant to Trevor Halford, my riding's MLA. It at least was somewhat personalized, though didn't address a solution to the issue. The next reply was robotic, an acknowledgment from the Ministry office. Nothing from the Honourable Pam Alexis, MLA. The only correspondent who really came through was the newspaper, who published my letter in yesterday's edition. 

One of the points I raised was that if such a key distribution network had failed elsewhere -- like, in Alberta (where oil remains king), governments of all stripes would have jumped in with cash. All I can hope is that the letter might help raise the pressure on our government to do something to save this year's crop for the fruit growers. After all, a handful of fruit is certainly more satisfying than a handful of oil. 

Fleeting

Feels like summer is flying past too quickly. Not as fast as the blur of the hummingbird's wings, but wheee, here we go, nearly August!

The blackberries are fat and sweet and plentiful, but the rest of the fruit in the yard is pretty pathetic. Even the quince tree (usually loaded) has only a few for us to pick this year. Maybe by September, a few more will have magically appeared. 

Worst, I suppose, is the plum tree: one plum. At least that was the score last time I checked. Who knows, the squirrel may have decided it looked ripe enough for him. 

Lettuces, basil, tomatoes--hurrah for the die-hards. Even if the freezer won't be filled with berries this year, at least we're still happily enjoying fresh salads. 

And probably best of all, after a couple of months with no hummers in sight, it's great that a pair (at least) seems to have returned. 

There's a moon out tonight

It won't be full until tomorrow, but I'm thinking about it today. Because 55 years ago, many of us were watching tv as men took the first human steps (that we know of) on the moon. 

I remember it seeming almost magical. And of course, there were plenty who poo-pooed it as fake--maybe the first instance of what we now know as 'fake news'. 

It's hard for me to not still look at my friend the moon and think about all those years ago when two of the crew members from Apollo 11 stepped onto a rock out in space, the first off-Earth such a venture. And yes, that still seems quite magical to me.

Fresh from the farm and garden

A long time ago, in 2009, I kept a year-long blog where I posted a photo and a bit of running commentary on whatever it was we were having for supper that night. I called it 'what's fer supper' and it's still online, hanging out wherever these things reside in the ether we've come to call the cloud. 

The photo above isn't supper, but rather a late breakfast, maybe one you'd have to call brunch, though on a Sunday that doesn't seem too out of line. 

The omelet, made from eggs I get from Karen, my 'egg lady' are beautifully farm-fresh. If you look closely, you can see a bit of grass from her hens' nesting materials on that lovely brown egg. 

The potatoes, from the few left over from last night's supper, were a gift from my wonderful neighbour, Anna, whose garden is an urban paradise. 

Filling for the omelet is from our little kitchen garden, just outside the back door. It was time to cut back the arugula, as it was bolting into a zillion little white flowers. A few seconds in the microwave was all it took to wilt the leaves a bit. Along with them, I folded a bunch of the flowers into the eggs as well. Then, since almost everything is better with cheese, a couple shreds of havarti got melted in there as well. 

Not a bad way to kick off a day that's turning out to be one of watching heaps of soccer on tv!

A different sort of caution

It was only the second time in my life that I'd been on Cortes Island, one of the Gulf Islands along the coast here in B.C. 

So I hope I can be forgiven for getting a little bit lost. 

Luckily I noticed pretty quickly that I'd taken a wrong turn off the main road, but what fun to find a sign that made me smile. 

Glad I took the photo. I hope it makes you smile too.