By Peter Christensen

Op-Ed Commentary

“Memories are stones we stumble over; their persistence is what will determine each day.”

We have returned to the house we built 40 years ago without knowledge of how to build. It was the era of back to the land.  We were young, independent and naive; building permits were a thing of the future. At a point when ‘the valley’ seemed in crisis, or maybe it was us, we decided to make a change and move to Terrace, near the ocean, to pursue a lifelong dream of sailing. But here we are, back in the valley.

Where in past summers a small migration of women and children, from Calgary, occupied hastily constructed cabins along the east side of Lake Windermere ‘the valley’ has now become a destination resort.  Grand homes overlook the lake and wetlands. Condo and townhome villages host visitors, ambitious on-line workers, young families and the newly retired. ‘The valley’ is a conurbation of suburban districts. There are hundreds of services, construction companies and business ventures.

Is it possible for so many changes in such a short period? Yes.

Areas that were arid grasslands are occupied by shopping malls, parking lots, coffee factories, building supply outlets, roads and expanding residential housing. Invermere, the main town, announces in the local newspaper a housing survey to inform the fight over the number of short-term rentals that will be allowed within old residential areas and, current research reveals that a popular stretch of the Columbia River near Fairmont sees an average of 17,600 ‘floaters’ per year, the Athalmer Sloughs host 15,000 paddle board/canoe visits while a lengthier section of the river between Athalmer and Golden sees 5,000 users annually.

The coal trains still rumble along the lake but seem as if they are from a past era. They grind through, 13 every 24 hours.  Distance and height above the pioneer development buys privacy and relief from the noise. Will these holiday estates someday be rented or deserted as the current generation of wealth is divided amongst the offspring?

Like a person who begs for divorce but is shocked when it is granted, I am overwhelmed.

It’s July 1: Canada Day. An enlarged Canada Day Parade has been promised.  (President Trump belittled Canada’s viability as a nation.)

We tour the bandstands and market stalls hosted by the town at Kinsmen Beach and stand in line for drinks and fast food. We meet an old friend and are invited to sit and visit under the immense trees that have overgrown from being artificially watered. We talk about the changes, are aware of how they came about and agree that like love, change cannot be taken for granted.

This sunny cool morning at the homeplace we enjoy our ‘entrance garden’: the lemon-balm, poppies, calendula and not-so-wild grasses surround a small concrete Buddha that overlooks a pond we positioned at the west edge of the garden. Buddha has survived our hiatus though there are patches of yellow-green lichen growing on his rough surface. He has not moved in 40 years, sits amid tall grasses holding a ‘sounding bowl’ in his left hand and a stick in his right to rim the bowl and sing a healing meditation to bless the world and the bathing birds.

Pine Siskins and Cassin’s Finch visit this little oasis of water, petunias, pansies and peonies. From the Douglas Fir that stands tall and commanding nearby they fly in to feed on the abundant seeds we have provided. Markedly, Nuthatches that were common in past years are rare. We worried earlier that no migratory song birds would appear when a rumor circulated that they had suffered from an avian flu that reduced their numbers.

Our friend who we visited with in town under the giant Douglas Fir is Shuswap, he carries memories that predate settlement; he spoke of accompaniment, loss, and the old. We, though newcomers, are reluctantly settling into our acquired role of expressionless watchers: becoming lichen covered concrete Buddhas overlooking raucous birds fighting for space? We digest our opinions… a lifetime goes by in a moment.

Lead image: A nuthatch. e-KNOW file photo

– Peter Christensen is a Columbia Valley based writer and poet.

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