Monday, August 24, 2020

RAINBOW WARRIORS

On the Road in Clayoquot Sound
Summer of '93

Sally Sunshine, R.I.P.
 

The soul would have no rainbows
if the eyes had no tears.
     - Native American proverb

BLOCKADE. I remember:
dancing on the road, heart full to bursting,
as the big trucks rolled in,
the summer of '93.
Tears, as the forest defenders were carried off
by arms and legs, first a few,
then a few hundred,
then a thousand.

We saved some trees, here,
back then, in Clayoquot Sound.
But the clearcutting continued
on the Island. 
Only a little left, and not protected.
This week my grandson,
a Rainbow Warrior, is going to the blockade
at Fairy Creek, where logging roads
are slicing into one of the last
pristine watersheds, the last of the old growth
on Vancouver Island.
The last of the lungs
on our planet, should anybody care.

This week, the big machinery
turned around and left.
But they are tricky,
so a second blockade
is set up on the back road.

Pain: at the endless putting of profit
before planet, even as the Arctic
hits 100 degrees, melting beneath
the huskies' feet, so they are trotting
through water, instead of on ice.

"Money rules," the fat cats grin,
as if that's all that matters.

"Money rules, but the spirit
liberates," replied my friend,
back in the day. It was my bumper sticker
for years. Along with
"Money is a drug.
Heal the spirit."

Joy: that as my generation of eco-warriors
lies, gasping, exhausted after 40 years of fighting,
the young ones are stepping up,
with pure hearts, and hope, and energy
to save their vanishing world.

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
My grandson was five when
I was on the road.
Now he's twenty-five,
and picking up my faltering torch.
I watch these rainbow warriors with pride,
and with guilt, that our generation didn't leave 
them a safer world.

My eyes have tears and rainbows,
my heart holds equal measure
of joy and pain.


Adjacent to Fairy Creek
Ancient Forest Alliance photo
Those few trees left? That's so they can say they're
"not clearcutting."

It is early days at Fairy Creek, but it is building. More people will come to the blockades, as they did in the summer of '93. Fairy Creek is ancient old growth on the way to Port Renfrew, south Vancouver Island. It is close to the mystical Avatar Grove - the huge trunks are amazing. To pulp this stuff for toilet paper is ludicrous; a crime. It is insane to truck this stuff out of the province and send it to other countries as raw logs. But the trucks keep rolling in. The warriors stand firm. Here we go again. But now the stakes are higher. There is not much left to save on this heating planet. Take a look at the beauties these young people are trying to save.

(for earthweal.com: Storms and Rainbows)

My friend, Warren Rudd, a well-known Tofino videographer, worked on this video. He is up at Fairy Creek right now. Check out the beauty that is in peril.


6 comments:

  1. Gosh, I hope it is possible to stop this senseless clearing of such a magical place. I would like to post something about this on my Facebook page. I will see if I can find some kind of press release about. It deserves worldwide attention. Suzanne from Wordpress blog - Mapping Uncertainty

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  2. How can any government sanction the clearing of ancient forests? It makes my blood boil! Thank goodness for activists and blockades. I like the way you linked the current blockade with the summer of '93, Sherry, and with your personal memories. And how wonderful that your grandson is also a Rainbow Warrior.

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  3. It's amazing and sad, how long this has been going on, powerful poem, Sherry...JIM

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  4. This poem made me so angry. I'm so grateful to people like your grandson who care enough to do something. There is so little wilderness yet, we know how important forests are, but we keep on destroying. Why are we so stupid???

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  5. Such an arc of history here, of protest and wrong and ties between tears and rainbows. How weary and sad to see the profit engines still jawing down trees for too much toilet paper. What a full heart you must have. - Brendan

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  6. we watch this destruction from our windows,
    and hate it. when we first came, the forest was pure and innocent; no longer. such a shameful waste!

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