In Lieu of Flowers

In her last days Morningstar was exceptionally well served by our local Hospice and I am certain that Morningstar would approve of any donations made to this organization. Their local address is:

Whatcom Hospice Foundation
800 E. Chestnut, Suite 1-C
Bellingham, WA 98225
(360) 733-1231
fax (360) 527-9318

Bob

Goodbye

It is with great sadness that I tell you that Morningstar died early the morning of Thursday 14 May. She died in her sleep at home in her own bed, just as she had wished. She faced death as she had lived her life, full-on, no excuses, always seeking the next adventure. Both of her sons were here the day before she died to say goodbye to her. A great light has gone out of my life.

Right now it is too hard for me to write many words for her, maybe later. My sister Tracy wrote to me with the following thoughts which I trust she will not mind my sharing with you.

"Dear Bob,

I've done a lot of reflecting on Morningstar's intelligence, creativity, adventurous personality and many talents these past 24 hours and continue to be amazed. Her photographs, journals, stitch work, book and articles are a wonderful legacy. She enriched all our lives and encouraged us to think about our world and how we can improve it. She had an eye for the natural beauty surrounding us each and every day. She certainly did not take life for granted and she particularly appreciated every day this past year. I think her happiest years were those spent with you, and I suspect you felt the same about your time with her. It is a tremendous loss for all who knew her."

Tulip Festival

For years I have heard about the Skagit Valley Tulip Festival, and yet have never attended the event which occurs April 1 to 30th, depending upon Mother Nature. This year the Festival has been extended to May 3, due to the late tulip bloom. Often as we have zipped by the fields when traveling north or south, we have caught a glimpse of the dazzling yellow, red, pinks, and purples, but that cannot prepare you for what it is really like during the tulip tour. There are of course tour busses, miles and miles of bumper to bumper vehicles stop and going along arrow straight roads, flaggers wearing orange vests, full parking lots, intersection signs pointing both directions for the tour… okay, which way should we go this time?

It is an absolute madhouse. But on a beautiful warm day in April, there are no impatient horn honkers, only smiles everywhere. There are families of all nationalities framing shots with their cameras. Picnics spread on the ground. (A few photos taken by Bob and Morningstar give a little of the flavor.)

CANADIAN MAPLE

Yesterday I crossed the border into Canada for the first time in a year. We were asked, “What is your destination and purpose?” Bob smiled, “Tim Horton’s for the best coffee an donuts around.” The young female customs official laughed. “How long do you plan to stay?” “About an hour.” And so we did, returning with a box of one dozen donuts to declare as we drove past the American Customs.

It was a small thing that brightened the day. Tim Horton’s in Abbotsford has always been our touchstone… first place we stop after crossing the border going north, and the last place we stop as we head south to the U.S. We have rolled up the rim on many a contest cup, sometimes winning a free cup of coffee or a donut. The big winners always eluded us. Abbotsford is growing by leaps and bounds, becoming a city really, but between there and Bellingham, we can still enjoy old barns, newly furrowed fields, orchards, farmhouses, goats grazing in green meadows, and raspberry canes leafing outs.

... P. L. Morningstar

Grey Ghost of the North

This photo is of a Canadian Lynx (Lynx canadensis) taken by our good friend Richard Glover just a few days ago. The lynx is ordinarily an elusive, solitary cat that lives in the boreal forest and hunts by stealth in the early morning and at dusk. This one however has been a regular daytime visitor to the Kitwanga, British Columbia area and seems unbothered by human activity according to Richard. They are ordinarily secretive, elusive and avoid human contact and have been called the “grey ghost of the north.” The Canada lynx has also been called one of the most beautiful animals of the boreal forest, the world's northernmost forest. Unfortunately it has seen its habitat shrinking as global warming causes the forest to retreat ever northward. Logging has also damaged much of its habitat. Evidently their status as an endangered species is currently under review in the U.S., but their listing is being opposed by the forestry industry.

... Bob

BEARTREK

Bellingham ecologist makes bear documentary to save wild places

Bellingham ecologist Chris Morgan is taking his BMW motorcycle on a journey to four continents in search of the world's endangered bears - an epic adventure being made into a feature-length documentary called "Beartrek."

In 2006, we made a decision to move to northern British Columbia. Much of it had to do with the political conditions in the United States. But we were also very much interested in the recent development of the Great Bear Rainforest in British Columbia by the Canadian government and a number of environmental groups. It was a way to give protection to a large area of habitat for wild animals including the white spirit bears called Kermodi. We also wanted to live off the grid. The first cabin we looked at was a complete wreck. No way was it going to work. But… as we walked up the faint trace of a road to the cabin, there was a rustling to our left. There was still snow on the ground and a lot of dry winter brush. A small black bear sat on the bank above the road. I don’t think he was really awake yet, just sort of dozing in the sun. But we were excited. This was our first wild bear, and of course we did everything we were not supposed to do. I grabbed my camera and moved closer to it… we were supposed to quietly back away. It was probably confused by my inappropriate behavior, and just waddled away.

We fell in love with the second cabin we found on the backroad of the Skeena River. One Hundred twenty three acres of wilderness, and mountain views everywhere. Now our lives were filled with not only bears, but grey wolves, cougars, moose, lynx, and grizzly bears. Not to mention a beaver pond next to the log cabin. That first summer we watched the black bears climb the big crab apple tree in the meadow, inching out to the very thin branches to nab ripe apples. They were like ballet dancers in their efforts, but once in a while they fell out of the tree too… with quite a surprised look on their faces.

On a spring morning in 2007, we watched as a grizzly mom and her cub started down our driveway. They didn’t come far and by the time I got my telephoto camera out, they were already leaving, but I love the way their rounded rumps seemed to match. One big, one small.

On our drives into Kitwanga and Terrace, Bob always watched the sides of the roads for bear, except in winter when they were hibernating. We kept count for a long time, at one time reaching twenty-two sightings in one week. So we will be following Beartrek as it makes it way around the world and look forward to the documentary.



… P. L. Morningstar (photos by Morningstar)

Hell of a Day

Late yesterday morning I sat on the bathroom floor and wept. The cats encircled me, their eyes showing concern. Bob stood above the three of us, for the moment at a loss about what to do next. These were not little tears dribbling down cheeks. These were deep down, shaking, gut wrenching wails. I was as close to an emotional breakdown as I ever want to be. “Please just let me sit here quietly for a moment,” was all I could hear myself say between my loud sobs and all the questions that rained upon my ears.

We had just returned from the Northwest Lab where they did a blood draw from me. My much-anticipated “improvement” still had not come and Dr. Hall wanted more information. Since the radiation treatments had begun, there has been a steady drop in my energy level. I even hesitate to use the word because while it gives others something to talk about and to ask me about, it is a meaningless word to me. Bob has to lift me off the couch; he has to lift me off he toilet seat. The walker helps me get off the bed by myself and back and forth in the Loft. Nothing but Bob’s lifting gets me up the two sets of stairs to the upper floor. And that is where it all fell apart yesterday. No more needs to be said about the incident. I already know all the cheery, optimistic “we’ll be turning the corner soon” news. THIS is what happened yesterday… perhaps it will help others who are undergoing what I am. And last week I wrote I wrote this piece in my Journal:

PLEASE don’t ask me how I feel.
However well intended, your words and mine
Have lost all comparable meaning
Fatigue, loss of energy, and weakness are the operating words
They are the words by which you
Search for solutions. “What can we do help with this?”
I am beyond caring if you understand what I am saying. I am beyond trying
To explain the strange state in which I find myself. I am finished
With the effort to self-evaluate. “Tell me how you feel.”
I have no more words. I have only feelings and they are my own.

P. L. Morningstar