Friday, October 16, 2009

'Dem Are Fish - The Spectacle of Spawning Salmon


The spectacle of life intrigues me. The Earth has life, land and water. All three are infinitely interdependent. Currently the life of salmon are flinging themselves wildly out of the water. They are not trying to land themselves in my cooking pot or my neighbour's net. They are simply waiting for the rain.

This is the second week of supposed rain. The fish are jumping in protest. They saw the forecast, and it said rain. "I thought Claire Martin said rain all week" snorkeled the Chinook. "She did" said the Chum. "We should swim to Vancouver and give her the fin-ger!" The Sooke River is bone dry.

The fish jump between 7 meters away and a half a nautical mile out in Sooke Harbour. A 30 pound Chinook roaring out of the water 7 m away is almost frightening. The seals with their large shiny domes and stealth hunting maneuvers are part of the commotion on the ocean. Everyone's lining up at the trough.

The fish density must be growing. They leap they fly they slam they body flop and tail walk. They are throwing up great swirls and sprays of water. There are so many today and yesterday. But everything is waiting. The fish wait for the rain and everything else waits for the fish. Vieing for space.

I wonder about the leaping fish size. I've seen pictures of sixty pound Chinook up Sooke river. Hah, I couldn't even pull in the anchovy rig let alone 15 pounds of sockeye or 20 pounds of white Chinook. I've rarely seen a 60 pound salmon. 40 seems the largest in recent years. But the big ones have to spawn too.

Salmon are funny. They return to the rivers they are born in. It would be like me going back to Halifax to have kids. That's a problem because my husband would have a hankering to go to southern Alberta.

Of the five types of Pacific salmon three run up the Sooke River right past my tent vestibule. Chum, Chinook and Coho. The Coho veer off into Charter's Creek while Chinook and Chum rule the Potholes with DeMamiel Creek providing support. Sturgeon also run in this river.

To see a salmon river in BC, I have always wondered, "How can big salmon run up small creeks that are always dry?" But they are dry in summer only, when I would visit on holidays. Now, after residing near a salmon river for 5 years, I know what has to happen in fall and winter in the rain forest. It has to rain.

And not a prairie rain or even a heavy rainstorm, but days and weeks of wet. Continuous, often pouring water from the sky. First the salmon run up, then the forest takes a drink and everything gets refreshed.

The current tragedy is this rain forest river valley is in drought. We are two autumns with no strong rain for the salmon and two winters with some snow, but little rain. The backlog in the Harbour provides me with a unique opportunity to view salmon. The fish that come in from the Juan de Fuca, into the Harbour and the Basin, make their way up at least 4 streams.

The route is like this: East from the Juan de Fuca, through Sooke Bay, around Whiffen Spit and into the Harbour. Up Sooke River with exits at DeMamiel and Charter's Creek. If you are a salmon heading to Ayum Creek, keep going East in the Harbour, swim the gauntlet of fishers on Billing Spit and enter Ayum from Sooke Basin.

Currently as we wait for rain, the fish bunch up in the pooling spots as the tide comes in and goes out. Some years there are lots of jumps and rises in coves and deep water channels. Other years you have to go further upstream to see them spawn. It's amazing to be that close and you have got to wonder at the spectacle of watching fish have sex. And is that steaming bear poo?

The Web of Salmon
After 2 -7 years salmon, starting in freshwater and going to salt water to grow, return back to fresh water to lay eggs, fertilize, and die. I have watched an American dipper float, swim and dive at least a meter into the pool where the females dig a redd and fill this hole with thousands of eggs. Good hunting grounds.

The break down of eggs, sperm and dead and dieing fish begins to percolate the river floor and feed all decomposers living in the river - salamanders, frogs, snails, shrimp, and larvae of a myriad of creatures. The great salmon spawns create nutrient replenishing for all. The protein goes on.

The fish die, within a few days of spawning. Even on the upstream battle, they must contend with all manner of assaults. This year, there are many many fishers: snaggers, fly specialists, canoes, kayaks, pedal kayaks, and electric motors are popular this year. Gas motors and even one 3o ft boat that did not belong with the others. People's dogs chase the salmon and kids hit them with sticks. What's a fish got to do, get a room?

Bears are a great feaster on the spent and wasted salmon. Brains are very high in fat. Bears and other forest animals pull the salmon away to feed. The salmon is dragged and shredded and pooped all over the forest floor. It's in everything. The trees of the Pacific rain forest have a unique and strong nitrogen component that only comes up through the marine environment.

Eagles have numbered 25 on a given morning in previous years during the boon. Last year, we saw just the locals and the odd transient. This year, few so far beyond the dominant mature pair. Their nest was huge and heavy and fell after 12 years of use. The eagles wait for the fish; the fish wait for the water.

This year I'm afraid the salmon are having to exert themselves early and there might be early egging and sperming. At least greater risk of being hooked (barbless only), assaulted by gulls or a heron, eagle, or seal and cormorant. It's a tough world. But it would be much tougher without Pacific salmon.

The Earth has many cycles and many things affect them. Any drought has profound implications for a rain forest. Such a diverse world as this is bound to the water. Humans need it, trees need it, salmon need it.

Last night the sky was strangely dry with light fog. The rain started and softly fell for 12 hours. Not enough yet. The salmon of all shapes and colours and stages vie for that first one through the gate when the rain comes. It is coming isn't it?

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Under The Leaning Tree




Blue herons preening on the river tree.
Common Mergansers perch on this tree.
Kingfisher, perched and preening.
Herons calling low in the dawn.
Crows dive bombing the air.
Falcons creating havoc.
Geese cruising the eddies.
Big orange spider was missing in action, and is once again.
Gulls gather on the incoming tide.
Mergies hunt in packs of teenagers.
Water ripples with wind, surges with current and wiggles with displacement.
Cormorants fly, float, land and dive.
Salmon jumps once.
Otter hunches, sprints, and dives in the green seaweed.
Geese move away from the oblivious otter.
Swan sleeps with one eye open.
Flowers begin their fall festival.
Geese fly low over the water, honking their arrival.
Leaves turn yellow, orange, red and brown.
Moths fly up, up, up.
Clouds are drawn into the shapes of scallops and waves.
Ocean bubbles up as the sand is filled over.
Gulls haunting calls echo all afternoon.
Eagle scares up thousands en route for East Sooke.
Bull kelp slithers and shakes on the tide.
Seal surfaces shining in the sun.

Monday, September 14, 2009

In the Shade of Big Trees

When I sit in the shade of a big tree, I listen. When I try to write this blog, I talk. As I listen I hear life. The life of birds, wind in the bush, leaves crisply falling or popping in the sun. Two minutes spent silent in the wild forest is a wondrous thing, and relatively hard to imagine or manage especially with other people. Time, quietly and alone spent under a tree, wild or in a park or a yard, is rare. But doesn't it sound great?

I imagine a really big big leaf maple in the summer, a strong tall Cottonwood in fall or a Karnakian Douglas fir on a wet winter day. I just listen. Sleep is okay, I'll hear in my dreams. And think.

I think of wondrous things in this quiet time.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

What Does It Matter?

Fewer
Cougars

and even fewer cougars.

Dispatch, eliminate, protect.
It's us or them.
Really?
Why is it always us?

Thursday, June 25, 2009

June 24, 2009

Wow. What a day. Farrah Fawcett died. Then Micheal Jackson died. She so got shown up by a pretty boy.

Her hair her hair. I grew my hair long when I was 12, after years of my mom getting my hair permed. Then I went to get it curled, playfully like FF. Not that I would have admitted that then, or since, until now. But her hair was was good. My hair, was 1974 perm all over again in 1980 . Tight curls like my blue haired grandma; okay it was like my poodle. It took about 2 years to grow out, which is to say, get scraggly, then get cut off. By then FF and her girly look were passe for me. A passing phase into something a little darker.

By the time Micheal Jackson solo'd his way into my early 80s cultural self, I was all hard and defiant. Not so hard as to glue my mowhawk up or live only for dna or the pistols, but my bad self was current with the metal and full of enough defiance to label and ostracize most conventions. MJ was too embraced for me to like. And for me, now watching old video, it was weird. Not in the weird way most of society sees him. But he was too theatrical. Too coordinated, choreographed. It was all weird and story and dark.

I liked Jim Morrison who some would say is weird and story and dark. But MJ was little mj of the Jackson Five. I associate it with my parents and music tv and the 70s. Not my time. I still don't know why. Same reason I disliked Madonna. They did not represent me. I guess I was more Suzi Quatro or Heart, or wanted to be. Probably more Pat Benetar or Toronto or Darbie Mills.

I always joke that I use to beat up people who liked MJ or M. Funny hey? Maybe I scared myself into not liking it.

But i guess i had to create an 'other' to my love of questioning and experience. For me MJ was a poser and M was slightly stupid insincere mouthy girl. Not my goal in life at 15. Maybe mouthy.


One thing I always forget was that at the time, music videos were rare. Music was still via the radio and your friend's music collection. M & MJ made MTV and vice versa. But music on tv was relegated to late night and weekend specials. When cable came in, I was moving out. And 19 is not the time of planned budgets or even adequate income. No cable, no video.

Yet MJ probably spurred video like few others. And he lived until 50. And FF was 62. Not old. I have a theory. I think there was something in the water or at least in the hair product.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Invasive Species


A plant clinging to rocks at the edge of the Pacific ocean. A flowering succulent. Small, alone, yellow, green. Not where I expect to see a dry region plant. Not where I expect to see any plants. Algae maybe, on these rocky eruptions that get bashed by the wind, waves and sun. What could grow here?

Obviously this plant with flowers the colour of plastic can.
My horticulturist friend says it is invasive.
Invasive of what I ask? What would be here if not for it? To be honest, my friend is an old one. And he's crafty. It is possible he's yankin' my chain.

Scotch Broom is a real invasive species in my area. Local lore goes, the foreigners brought it. I tend to believe this. Its green is very green, juniper or cedar braid like spikes. Prolific yellow flowers that light up the bare brown earth of development or clearcuts. Their smell is even richer wafting through every ditch, green space and shoreline.

We have burning parties up and down the coastline and in the hills. Bring your kids, your grandad and your gloves. The local paper gives detailed instructions on how to kill this plant and rid our area of its seed. 'Cut below ground when not in flower,' under a moon, any moon wearing a red hat. By the looks of the broom this summer, our ritual needs greater interest.

Maybe we need greater awareness too. What's invasive?

My friend allegedly bought a Broom at a nursery in the same province but a few mountain ranges to the east. If it's invasive, is that legal? Knowing what I know here, it will spread. Is that bad? What happens?...
All I hope is that if she plants it on her 40 acre mountainside they don't curse her name in ten years at the Annual Death To Broom Day in the Kootenays.

So what's invasive? Something that displaces a native and takes over its land, food and space. If, as my buddy says, we should kill it; my community says burn it and report its presence, what should the natives do about our invasion? I hope they are as gentle as I am with the succulent, leaving it in its watery craggy home.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Run of River Energy Projects


'Run of River' energy projects sounded clean, but corporate greed has a different purpose.

"What do you think?" a friend asked regarding a certain company.

What's your question? I see no 'vision statement' that is any different than others. And now I have more questions:

"a tailrace where the water is returned to the stream above — or as close as possible to — a barrier to fish movement." http://www.cloudworksenergy.com/article.php?n=19

... Above what? You can't return water to the starting point (0 net energy gain). So above what? Why does it get less well-written at the most important part?

These projects have gone into pristine river valleys cut down old growth to set up infrastructure and sometimes leave the river dry as the water is diverted. When it comes down to fish dieing or the lights going out in Victoria, the trees will continue to die and so will the rivers. Like ethanol, it was an interesting idea in theory, but we didn't think this through.



The question is this- if all things go as planned, in a compassionate, green, conscious way- what are the effects where the river is diminished? Where that environment is compromised? That's if all things go as planned.


What do you think?

another opinion
http://www.straight.com/article-201859/gwen-barlee-private-runofriver-power-projects-make-no-sense-bc

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Can't See the Forest in the Bum-Wipe

Am I Wiping With An Ancient Tree?

More than 200 quintillion rolls of toilet paper are consumed every single year. OK, I made that up. But one person over 80 years gets their ass wiped with 70000 kms of soft paper. (I made that up too). Soft shreddy paper. Which leads me to India.

When I went, before I went, a big concern was cleaning my crotch without paper. I need paper to wipe my ass, don't I? I had anyone who went to India tell me about wiping your ass with your hand. I was going to have to touch poo. My poo, but poo none the less.

The thing about India was I was told that people of India may find a paper wiped ass a dirtier practice than a water washed ass. There is a lot of water used everywhere in India. So water, liberally applied with a bit of a shower wipe cleans your ass. Soap and water wash to your hands. Resulting in really clean everything, no paper used.

Toilet Paper Use in a Frugal House in North America
We use between 50 - 100 rolls per year in my house. White 100% post consumer ‘recycled’ tp. Sometime in the early 90s brown tp, ‘unbleached’, was available, but I don’t see it anymore.
Sometimes I’ve thought about our sometimes ‘rough’ paper and how visitors will see that. Who cares, right. But marketing and advertising enters my psyche with the cultural field of ‘acceptable uniqueness’. Unique, but not a freak. So we use toilet paper and don’t force our guests to use water.

Trees Here
I live in the northern Pacific Raincoast Forest. Trees grow really big. Forests grow in diversity. Wood is used, pulp and paper are used and made. Whole logs are cut and shipped away. Whole logs are left to rot. Trees and forests are wasted. Some tree farms are planted. Paper is wasted, some is recycled.

I’ve thought about going paper free. It’s hard- even for a day. I thought about going tp-less, using water. So much works against this.

Can’t we just use post-consumer brands of tp? Don’t use brands that are not post-consumer? If we cared maybe. If we knew, perhaps. Trees live longer than most any other life form we know of. Large, life giving, diverse beings of life. We cut, kill, waste or at best wipe our asses with it. Gives new meaning to spoiled-ass people.


Books to read:
The Giving Tree- Shel Silverstein
Dirt on Clean: An Unsanitized History- Katherine Ashenburg

Blogs to read:
http://switchboard.nrdc.org/blogs/ahershkowitz/will_recycled_fiber_toilet_pap.html

Music to listen to:
Are My Hands Clean? - Sweet Honey and the Rock

The Giving Tree - Shel Silverstein

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1TZCP6OqRlE

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Are Our Bums Clean?

http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/2009/feb/26/toilet-roll-america

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Springtime


While searching photo files for Trees, and my blog for meaning, I found a picture of daffodils. And while it is sunny and mid-February, these beauties have yet to reveal.

But Snowdrops, a phenomenon of the west, are just finishing. White explosions of flower heads that droop as if sad they came to the party so early. Being the first and being small, many people miss these harbingers of sun and spring. A few small crocus have popped, even a few purple prairie crocus are showing.

Until moving to the Pacific coast, I didn't even know there were crocus other than the purple ones of May (if you were smart enough to get to the mountains to see them.)

Now, 4 months before the rest of the country, so many plants are flowering. Greens are up, early leaves are getting ready to pop and the sun does not set til just before 6 pm. How great is that?

And while the daffodils have yet to pop, life is rich enough to offer all kinds of signs of the promised springtime. Today is a great day to go and discover a few. See how this party is getting started and what meaning it might offer you this very very day.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Germination


Under construction.