The Beauforts

[image from portaec.net - there are many more patches on these slopes since this photo was taken. More patches than trees, now. The big green center patch is gone. And the trucks keep hauling them away. Every hour, wherever you go in town, one passes a logging truck, stacked with trees, heading out. Beautiful B.C., hitting the road.]

The Beaufort Range 
is dotted with clearcuts.
They are spreading 
like a cancer
across the slipping slopes.
If you go near at night
when the moon is full,
you can hear the trees
moaning in distress.
They are grieving 
for their slain sisters.
They are fearful for
their own tomorrows.
If you go near at night
when the moon is full,
you can hear 
the wolves' keening howl
for their lost homeland.

Clayoquot Sound in danger again

I am horrified to learn through our network that, even though Clayoquot Sound is a supposed Biosphere Reserve, once again a logging company is gearing up to slaughter this pristine jewel in the heart of the Sound. Flores Island  is one of the remaining few untouched old growth forested areas left.It is a global rarity.  It is also in the heart of Nuu chah nulth territory and, as such, no one has any business logging it. My heart just sinks that - all these years later - we are still fighting to save the Sound. Protection started in the 1980's, after 1993, there was some stoppage of the destruction. Yet here we are again. 

Logging companies are ruthless in their methods, they lay waste an area, leaving behind an unconscionable mess, and a lot of waste. No benefit accrues to the local area, no jobs are created, no local value-added manufacturing rises out of it. It is all just chopped, and shipped out. Sustainability and the future - or even the present - are not even in their vocabularies. Even loggers know the methods are destructive - their own jobs will be phased out when the last trees are cut - if anyone is still breathing then.

So the environmentalists and First Nations will no doubt be rallying to take a stand. It is as insane to clearcut this small island as it is to strip mine Catface, right across the Tofino harbour - another project on the books.

Sigh. I get feeling pretty hopeless sometimes. But! I copied the info below from Joe Foy at the Wilderness Committee. I have sent my letter. If you feel moved to, you can send a letter as well.

"We have recently learned that there is a plan to log a pristine old growth valley on Flores Island in the heart of Clayoquot Sound. The company has marked out its planned cutting areas and is preparing right now to obtain logging road and cutting permits from the Provincial Government.

It would be such heartbreak to lose this jewel - but if we act NOW we can stop this shortsighted logging plan. Your letter will make a difference. Write the Minister of Natural Resource Operations, Steve Thomson now and let him know how strongly you feel that no road or cut permits be issued for Flores Island or any other intact areas in Clayoquot Sound's globally rare, ancient temperate rainforest.

Click here to send your letter: http://wildernesscommittee.org/write_wild_say_no_logging_flores_island

Your letter will be CCed to the Minister of Forests, Mines and Lands, Pat Bell and the President & CEO of the Integrated Land Management Bureau, Steve Carr."

PAIN

[This was written in response to Poet United's Thursday Think Tank Prompt # 11 : Pain. This is the list that comes to mind but I am sure it would be longer if I took more time. It was getting too depressing:)]
Tofino Creek in Clayoquot Sound. Photo from blog.livebooks.com
What pains me?
The sight of logging trucks
heading out of town
with the last of our forests,
transporting jobs to
Somewhere Else,
leaving hillsides of waste
behind,
like corpses strewn
on the field of battle.
What pains me?
Dolphins being massacred
in the bays of Japan,
frantically trying to escape
with their babies
in a sea of blood.
Whales, dead on the beach
from ocean toxins.
Ocean plankton,
half our world's oxygen source,
reduced by 40%
since 1950.
Because of humans.
Because of us!
Oil spills, global warming,
multinationals raping the planet
for profit,
and destroying our grandchildrens'
childrens' tomorrows.
Hungry and displaced
wild creatures
of all kinds.
Mistreated and abused
animals and children.
The mentally ill, the homeless,
the suffering hordes
of refugees
moving across desert landscapes.
Pakistan, struggling in a sea of mud.
Flood victims in Pakistan - CBC photo

Warfare and all manner
of fractious inharmoniousness,
over differing ideologies,
which makes as much sense as
killing each other
because we prefer
different types of jam.

What pains me?
Not being able to do much
but write poems about
all of the above.

What pains me?
Growing old and
having taken
far too long
to grow wise.

What hurts?
Being wise.