Where’s Home?

Maple Forest

Where are my spruce and poplar forests? Where are my rolling prairies and jagged mountains? Where are the rose thorns that would constantly catch at my pants as I push through the underbrush? I have traded all these for…maple? Oak? Poison ivy?

I’m finding eastern Canada surprisingly less familiar than I thought I would. There’s more biodiversity and less familiar weather patterns. Rivers flow differently over more exposed rock. The birdsongs I know are mixed with many new ones, the squirrels no longer chatter at me – they buzz! I’m slowly learning the rhythm of this place, but it will be a long time until I feel as comfortable as I did in the west. I just finished leading my last scheduled trip in my old home (although I’m sure there will be more). So this is my challenge and this is my opportunity! I’ll be exploring this new place I’m in and as I start to understand it a little better I hope it will start to feel like home. And I hope I’ll be able to share just a little bit of that journey with you!

Special Places

The stretch of North Saskatchewan River between Rocky Mountain House and Drayton Valley is not spectacular. There are no mountains, no waterfalls, no deserts, no open vistas. It is a pretty standard river flowing through your average mixed boreal forest. I don’t know of any endangered species in the area. There is oil under the ground.

I first canoed this section of river in 2016, and I remember it being a peaceful and quiet trip. At one campsite we heard wolves howling nearby. This summer I led another trip down this section, and every day and every night we could hear the hum of oil wells and the rumble of trucks in the distance. There was no silence to be found. It was distressing to me and to the students on the trip – we didn’t get our peaceful experience of nature. It’s kind of selfish. I want peace and quiet, but Alberta workers need a livelyhood and the world needs oil and gas, especially with winter coming and the situation in Europe.

But it’s not just me that wants peace and quiet for a week on the river. There are many animals that call this place home. And home is getting stressful. Right now COP15, the UN Biodiversity Conference, is happening in Montreal. Wildlife populations worldwide have fallen 69% since 1970. That is terrifying. Is this encroachment of noise and development the cause? I don’t think we can draw a direct line – there are many things happening that affect the biosphere from climate change, to air pollution, to microplastics, and yes, noise pollution. But loss of habitat seems to be a primary driver of this decline and I can say for certain that the habitat around the North Saskatchewan River is less appealing to me than it was a short six years ago.

So how do we protect areas that are not spectacular? I can’t point to any reason that we should protect this area in particular. Except that I have been here and I love it. This place that started out as not very memorable has become special to me. My only hope for saving these wild or previously wild places is finding more people that find them special – people that value the things that we are losing. And people don’t value things they don’t experience in some way. So my small part in protecting these places is letting people experience them. And the more people that experience and value these things, the more chance we have of saving them. And maybe even go beyond saving to helping them. I want the future to be aspirational and not just trying to avoid one disaster after the next.

Here are a few more photos of this section of river. What’s your special place that is not spectacular?

Attention

Attention is contagious. I am more likely to pay attention to things you pay attention to. And so we have the power to affect what other people pay attention to, whether they agree or disagree with us.

This simple truth has helped me figure out my love/hate relationship with social media. I love directing people’s attention to nature – mostly I focus on the visual beauty with photography. But I also love the sounds of wind in the leaves and the birds singing. The smells of walking through wet autumn leaves or of pushing through a fir thicket. I love the feeling of the wind, sun, and rain. Social media lets me share bits of this. But at the same time as it lets me share, it takes the attention for itself. It is mixed in with a long feed of thousands of other companies and people all trying to get your attention, and all decided by algorithms that are designed to keep you engaged (often by infuriating you). It becomes a tool of advertising. It becomes a business opportunity for a multi-billion dollar corporation. It changes a wholesome thing into a competition – a measuring stick of your value against the value of others. It becomes a tiny bit of data on how long it grabs your attention so that they can get more effective at keeping your attention in the future. It takes an honest communication between people and shortens it, cheapens it, twists it just a tiny bit. It changes the context of an interaction, and context matters.

And so what is my response? Do I disengage? Delete my accounts? I often disappear from social media for months at a time. That is definitely not good for business, but it is good for my soul. But I often find myself coming back, because I like being able to draw people’s attention to nature. And I like the people I have connected with on these platforms. But I hate the platforms. So this is not a goodbye to social media, and it is also not a promise to keep posting. It is just a promise to try to engage with people honestly and deeply, when I can and in ways I am able to. And this rarely happens online for me.

One response is to guide trips in the wilderness. Being physically in a place surrounded by nature requires sustained attention and rewards it.

As a photographer, a self-serving response is physical prints. I recently installed a set of prints in a house and I got the rare (for me) chance to see my work in the context it will be. A physical print stays there. You can’t scroll to the next image. The place and the light keeps you company in the morning when you have coffee, and is still with you in the evening at supper. It becomes familiar and comforting. You actually have time to develop a response to an image and have coherent thoughts about that response.

So I want to draw your attention to nature. But I also want to draw your attention to yourself and your relationship with it, and that takes more time and attention than social media is willing to give you.

I’ve been reading “How to do Nothing” by Jenny Odell, which is fantastic and is prompting many thoughts, including this post.

Colours After the Fire

Forest fires can cause so much damage, but they are also a natural way for forests to renew. There is beauty in this process too.

Here is a forest of black spruce near Kluane National Park in Yukon. That clump of needles at the top is one of the ways to tell black spruce from white spruce – they also tend to grow in much wetter soil. They look small here, but these could be quite old trees – they grow very slowly way up north.

Plants: Wild Rose

The wild rose or prickly rose will be familiar to almost everyone who goes outside in Canada. They are the common source of pain when walking through undergrowth and the small thorns will get stuck in socks and pants for days after. But the flowers are a beautiful pink – especially brilliant when they are just buds and softening in color as they open up. When the flower is gone, a rose hip is produced. When it is ripe it turns bright red or orange. The skin of rose hips is edible and rich in vitamin C (although to me it doesn’t taste that good). It can be made into tea, jam or jelly. But don’t eat the seeds inside. They are not poisonous but have many little hairs that cause itching – if ingested the itching is usually felt on the way out.

Wild rose leaves provide a beautiful color palette in fall when they start to turn – from yellow across the spectrum through orange and red to dark purple and even a bluish green sometimes.

Plants: Wild Mint

I thought people might find it interesting to see some of the plants I regularly come across while hiking. This is wild mint. It is usually found in damp or swampy areas. Sometimes I smell it before I see it but it is especially potent when you pick a leaf and crunch it up under your nose. It is sometimes hard to see from a distance because it is usually shorter than the reeds or grass surrounding it. You can identify it by the smell, but to make sure it’s actually mint, check that it has a squarish stem and the leaves are on opposite sides of the stem. It makes a very nice tea!

Taken near Crimson Lake, AB
40mm, f2.8, 1/60 of a second

A Different Life

A Different Life in the Cuban Countryside

I’m not sure if it’s growing up on a farm and now living in a city, or if it’s a symptom of a hectic life, or if it’s just another “grass is greener” kind of thought, but living here looks like a beautiful life to me. I’m sure it comes with its own struggles and frustrations. I wonder if the owners would be surprised to know that I sometimes dream of living there.

Taken in central Cuba.
40mm, f2.8, 1/4000 of a second.

Little Flashes of Light

Fireflies in a Manitoba Meadow

These fireflies seemed to like the swampy areas, but as the night went on they spread out to fly through the trees and around the meadows.

Taken in central Manitoba.
21mm, f5, 13 seconds

Summer Sunset

Saskatchewan Summer Sunset

Just posting a quick warm photo of the beautiful province where I grew up: Saskatchewan. Spring is pretty much here and these are the evenings we have to look forward to soon!

135mm, f16, 1/25 of a second

Warmth in Winter

Guanayara Cuba Pool in the Rainforest

Being Canadian, this was a strange winter. Going to Cuba was an interesting adventure and I could spend years exploring this mountainous rainforest, but when the cold air hit me at the Edmonton airport I knew I was home and everything felt right again!

On this tropical hike it was sometimes raining on us, sometimes sunny, and sometimes a bit of both. Either way it was warm and misty and incredibly beautiful. This pool was deep with a waterfall feeding it – the perfect spot for a swim.

Taken in Parque Guanayara, Cuba
18mm, f8, 1/100 of a second