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

Poetry for the Heart

Other people have a purpose;

I alone don't know.
I drift like a wave on the ocean,
I blow as aimless as the wind.
... Lao-tzu

(Photo by P. L. Morningstar)

For My Sisters

These are the days of Mega Churches and I am hopelessly lost in old memories of other times. I do not apologize, for I think those times (including the trivialities of coloring Easter eggs) still have meaning and value in my life… even as I have respectfully left behind organized religion long ago. Small congregations still abound, supportive communities of fellowship. Happy Easter.

I give these memories to my sisters, knowing they probably have their own versions:

Mother boiled eggs for my sisters and me. They were usually eggs from our Grandmother’s hens. Then we would sit around the table with varying bowls of vinegar and dye, and transfers of flowers and birds and bunnies.Sometimes we would dip an egg half in a blue dye, the other half in yellow and watch as the colors blended into a vibrant green, and we would write our name on the egg with crayon. Baskets were filled with green shredded paper grass, eggs, chocolate bunnies and yellow marshmallow chicks.

New dresses. Yellow for me, blue for Nancy and white for Annie. Funny little grown up hats. Most of the girls in Sunday School Class had a new dress, lace trimmed anklets, and Mary Janes. We looked like a tulle flower garden, awkward as growing girls can be, standing in front of the small congregation, singing our Easter song as the sunlight pierced the blue and green stained glass windows with Jesus on the cross.

All things bright and beautiful, all creatures great and small, all things wise and wonderful: the Lord God made them all.

... P. L. Morningstar

A Ride in the Country

Bob’s birthday was last Saturday, and to celebrate we took a drive in the country. We wanted to find the little farm where they have the “Squeaker” cheese curds. The day was full of spring as we bounced along two-lane back roads. I was sipping an iced mocha and nibbling on a lemon ginger cranberry scone… my lap was full of crumbs.

An old farm truck sat in a driveway. Wooden bed. Two people sitting in sunshine. Legs dangling over the back end. Talking, and laughing.

Dirt or gravel farm lanes trickled off the pavement. A hand printed sign and arrow, “Fresh Honey.”

Freshly plowed fields, neat and tidy.

Wetland pond. Canada Geese strutting, necks held high, while the dabblers preferred bottoms up. Birds flew from the grasses, bits of twig, and nesting material clutched in their beak.

Three unsheared brown wooly sheep.

It was the view of the bare berry canes that I most remember… the canes neatly coiled, then folded into the next… forming a continuous spiraling pattern across the fields. I didn’t have my camera with me, but that is the photo I want. Bare raspberry canes, waiting for warmth to touch the leaf nodes, to unlock the growth that will provide rich berries for the small green boxes that line the tables at Farmer’s Markets. That will fill breakfast bowls, and line shelves with jams and jellies. That will help farmers feed their families with the profit. A sustainable connections.

We didn’t find the “squeaker” cheese curds, but it didn’t really matter. There is always another day.

... PLM

Not so long ago...

It is April again, and I cannot help but to think back to last April 11, as we returned to our cabin in the woods of northern B.C. There was still snow on the ground, and ice in the creeks, but the bird migration was returning to the north. I wrote “Two pair of Steller’s Jays spent the morning flying from the crab apple to the tangled branches of bare hawthorn trees and back again, their dark crest and iridescent blue feathers bright in the sunlight. They are the provincial bird of British Columbia. And we spotted a Red-breasted Sapsucker after days of hearing it hammering alone in the birch forest. The Sapsucker belongs to the woodpecker family and in the photo you can see the tidy, parallel lines of ‘wells’ it has drilled in the bark of the tree. The wells fill with sap, which attracts insects – so they eat both the sweet sap and the insects. Hummingbirds often associate with Sapsuckers and sip sap at the wells too. But we have not seen the hummers yet. Other birds hopping and singing around the cabin today are: Mountain Chickadee, Varied Thrush, Dark-eyed Junco, and of course the proverbial symbol of spring, Robins. The Dark-eyed Juncos are in competition with two red squirrels over the seed, nuts, and fruit we’ve placed on the stump outside our front door."

April 17, 2008 “Yesterday I wrote about signs of spring. Today it is snowing and we were treated to a very special sighting… a Canada lynx, a rarely seen animal that preys almost exclusively on snowshoe hares. Bob quickly dashed off e-mails to friends and family…”

(Photo: Nature Canada) Pawprints in the Snow

"Just a few minutes ago we saw a Canada Lynx. I was having lunch and was looking out the front windows when I saw movement out toward the bench under the Black Hawthorns near the road. At first I thought it was a coyote - but as it moved it was clearly a cat of some sort. I called Morningstar to the window and we both got out our binoculars. Bobbed tail, black tip - also black tips on the ears - long legs. We had at least five minutes to look as it moved around the bench and went to the edge of the meadow and peered into the east woods. It then backtracked past the bench and headed behind the sheds and disappeared toward the woods on the west side of the meadow. Wonderful experience! It is called the gray ghost of the North."

On Earth Day, April 22, 2008, I wrote, “This morning we spotted a beautiful thick-furred coyote walking down our driveway. He was in no hurry… just out for a leisurely stroll, and maybe a little vole or deer mouse if one happened to be handy. Eventually he turned off the dirt track, crossed under the crab apple tree and slipped into the woods.”

I tell you of these things because this has NEVER been a CANCER BLOG. It is about LIVING and living with whatever situation we happen to find ourselves in. We miss our off the grid lifestyle… the simplicity and quiet, the abundance of wild creatures. But we are here now in Bellingham, and the Farmer’s Market starts this weekend. That is something very special to look forward to.

… PLM (Sapsucker and coyote photos by Morningstar)

How can anyone resist this sunbeam?

My dear friend Melanie sends me such colorful descriptions of her and Lee’s experiences in Mexico… along with wonderful photos. This little boy, smiling and dressed as a golden sunbeam would brighten anyone’s day. Melanie describes what will be coming for the Easter celebrations.

“Saturday begins the busiest time of the year here - "Santa Semana", the 10 days of the Easter celebration. No gringo tourists. The larger cities empty out and hit the beach towns. We just sit back and watch. As with all religious holidays here, Catholicism is mixed with native traditions, with the newest addition of the "The virgin of Guadalupe" which has replaced the "Virgin Mary" in the churches and also on the walls of homes. In the Saint Patrick's Day parade all the costumes were - surprise - RED! Many were decorated with embroidered images of the virgin of Guadalupe.”

... PLM