close your eyes and hope for the best

Stanley Park Vancouver British Columbia Canada. (click image to enlarge)

The recent storms that have ripped through Vancouver’s storied Stanley Park made me think of a trip I made last spring. I had the opportunity to spend several weeks photographing the natural splendour of Vancouver Island, as well as Stanley Park. To say that I thoroughly enjoyed the experience would be an understatement. Of course the trip was made even more enjoyable by having fellow photographer and my good friend Janis Kraulis accompany me as guide and chauffeur; thank goodness he is a fine photographer!

As someone who has a preference to photographing trees over people, this is the place to be. Western Red Cedar, Sitka Spruce and towering Douglas Fir beckon those with ultra wide-angle lenses.

It is not without frustration however. I went back to one location several times in the hope that I could catch the vista in good light - this was a quintessential British Columbia mountain scene complete with what I knew would be a snow-capped mountain reflecting in a gorgeous clear water lake. If only the rain and fog would abate so I could get a clear view.

The whole side of that mountain had been clear-cut of trees and there was nothing remaining to record on film but stumps and brush. I was so angered I simply left, not having taken one picture.

On the third morning visiting this vantage, the stars were aligned for me and a fabulous sunrise greeted the day. The light turned the snow-capped mountains to a beautiful deep and rich yellow that was perfectly mirrored in the calm-as-glass lake.

As pristine and beautiful as that scene was, it was as equally depressing. The whole side of that mountain had been clear-cut of trees and there was nothing remaining to record on film but stumps and brush. I was so angered I simply left, not having taken one picture.

Several days later on the return flight to Nova Scotia I was blessed with clear blue skies as we crossed the Bay of Fundy and started our descent into Halifax. The scene that was unfolding below me was one I had failed to really register before. Fifteen thousand feet below was nothing different than I had just experienced on the opposite side of the country. The landscape was barren and devoid of springtime vegetation, there were no trees left to create a canopy of leaves to produce the required shade for the multitudes of flora and fauna that were one-time residents.

Clear cut, Nova Scotia Canada. (click image to enlarge)

This made me think: Do we, as photographers, have a moral, ethical and professional obligation to show our neighbours and government images of the devastation that is taking place in our respective back yards?

To that end, I have spent the past year learning all I could about forestry operations in Nova Scotia. In so doing I was astounded to learn that less than 1% of all trees in Nova Scotia are older than 100 years. Two centuries of timber operations and forest fires (most started by either steam powered trains or -ironically- lumber mills) have left Canada’s Ocean Playground with a transparent forest, transparent because there are essentially very few examples of original Acadian forest left.

What I have also learned is that government, in one form or another, regulates the majority of forestry operations in Nova Scotia. What particularly astounded me, however, is that there are so few remaining mature forests in this province that government is now authorizing clear-cutting in two of the largest Game Sanctuaries. Huge swaths of barren wasteland are all that remain in many cases.

I approached government about this unacceptable practice and it was explained in great detail that these clear-cuts were being conducted for habitat improvement for the endangered Mainland Moose.

Let’s think about this for a moment: You are going to cut huge tracts of some of the last remaining stands of mature forest in Nova Scotia in order to provide better living conditions for the moose? I may not have a forestry degree, but I fail to understand how a clear-cut will create better living conditions for our few remaining moose. In fact, should it require a sciences degree to muster this type of learned logic, then I am most delighted at being an ignorant man.

I made the following entry in my journal nearly two years ago while waiting for my canoeing partner who was off exploring an incredible pine and hemlock stand bordering the Hebert River, a river that runs through what locals affectionately call “the Sanctuary.” It had been about 15-years since I had been “on the river.” I was raised on lands that share a common border with Chignecto Game Sanctuary, and continue to be the custodian of that family land today.

This was my classroom, a wide-open classroom without walls and standards, where I could learn the difference between a white and red pine, how to identify a hemlock, a sugar maple, a merganser and bobcat. Beyond learning the physical identification features of various species of flora and fauna, I was to learn an even more important life lesson - that of respect, respect of ourselves, and our surroundings.

Chignecto truly is more than a sanctuary for flora and fauna; it is also a sanctuary for people. It is a special place, a place where no legislation or words can do justice. This is a place where the chorus of cool summer breezes whistling through the mature pine and hemlock sing a song of life. It has to be felt, experienced and breathed in. It is a place where man can learn that he is no greater than any other creature or tree that surrounds him.

What a travesty should the life known as Chignecto be snubbed out by not protecting her lifeblood: the air, the land and the water that courses through her veins. As the great aboriginal leader, Chief Seattle said: “If all the beasts were gone, man would die from a great loneliness of spirit. For whatever happens to the beasts soon happens to man. All things are interconnected. This we know.”

So, yes, I do believe photographers have an obligation to use their skills to show the public and government what is taking place in our backyards. Such wanton disregard for our natural environment cannot continue unabated. Simply put, it is criminal.

© Dale Wilson

This entry was posted on Thursday, January 18th, 2007 at 10:12 am and is filed under Dale Wilson. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.