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Thoughts on International Earth Day
Under Swansea
By Bob Ede
It makes you think. It was overcast for the Lyrids this morning. Sometimes there are too many factors conspiring against watching falling stars. This morning it was the moon and clouds.
Rolled out to the burn. The radio chattered on about the significance of the day. Jian Ghomeshi’s opening editorial was somber; have we passed the tipping point?; are we powerless to make a difference? He spoke about doing one thing to make a difference. This brought to mind the second home owning Alberta oil executives, who have Lake Windermere surrounded, choosing to bring their organic bananas and beef tenderloin home in reusable shopping bags. That’s their difference maker.
The sky started to spit at me, but not enough to roll up the windows.
I’m not better, nor innocent, though my consumption is on a smaller scale. I drove onwards looking for a higher vantage point.
I was hoping for meadowlarks, or possibly a Vaux’s Swift to point my camera at.
The road was hollow ruts and mud, but not bad; better than February when I pushed hard escaping the valley lights in search of The Milky Way. I stopped. The dogs were glad to be set loose. I tucked my pants into my socks to give me a chance against the ticks. A Bald Eagle took to the sky. It was on the ground before we spooked it. I wondered if it had swooped for a gopher or meadowlark. I followed it through the flat clouds. It circled back and reached for a burnt snag behind us. Whatever it had on the ground it was not going to give up easily.
The meadowlarks stayed hidden, but their voices cheered us on. The Western Meadowlark’s habitat is eroding in British Columbia. Agriculture and fire suppression are factors in their diminishing numbers. What would a world be like without the song of the meadowlark, I thought? Will people someday listen to ancient recordings of its voice on computers? Will it matter or have meaning?
The dogs caught the scent of rodents and smiled at every step. The road followed the fence line. It is Crown land. That’s a way to say it belongs to every British Columbian, every Canadian. It should mean it belongs to no one. That might solve some problems. It’s human nature to claim ownership over something that can’t be possessed. Kind of funny when you think how long each of us walks the earth, with any justice, the rocks and trees should have first dibs. I’ve read countries and companies have started claiming parts of the moon. I laughed. The dogs, no doubt, thought I shared in their enjoyment of the hunt.
A flock of robins failed to be run off. They seemed oblivious to our company. I realize the only reason this place exists, as it does, is it has not yet been declared valuable enough to exploit. The timber has been burnt off. There is no oil or metal under the ground. Though, the views are incredible it doesn’t overlook a stream or lake, so is safe from the developer and his subdivided parcels of vacation homes, mostly abandoned, grinding atop the hills and along the banks. For now it’s safe.
On return, a pair of Turkey Vultures had found perches close to the eagle. It was more than a rodent or bird they had in their sights. A small deer, fresh, but half eaten, its ribs exposed and neck turned lay in the long grass. I don’t know how I had missed it before. No wonder the eagle kept circling. The vultures were much bolder than the eagle and stayed put. These majestic, high soaring birds were rare in this area 20 years ago. The warming thermals have continued to carry them further north. Now they are a common sight. You can watch them soar for a half hour or more and they won’t flap a wing. What would that be like?
I know people that have tried to shoot them for no apparent reason. That’s the animal we are. That is our nature.
We don’t know the true intelligence of the species around us, but I am pretty sure they never considered changing places with us.
The dogs jumped in the truck, I gave them some small pieces of cheese from my sandwich. It doesn’t seem they ask for much for what they give in return. We left the birds to enjoy their meal. We were only intruding anyway. I started towards the valley bottom, the dogs kept their heads out the window, lapping up the scents of spring.
Very fine day!
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– Bob Ede has learned to speak some dog but the language of the birds still comes across as a mystery. He can be reached at [email protected]
