When I was a little boy, my family lived in a small village that was nestled in the center of nature. You had a feeling, much like the story of Paul Bunyan, (1) that you were in direct competition with nature and, to my youthful eyes, nature was winning. The forests were filled with truly colossal trees that stretched endlessly far, far into the horizon. My father had a most interesting position in which he audited the “wood supply” in our region, as well as managing a large number of men that did the initial transporting of the trees to various factories on Vancouver Island and on the mainland of British Columbia. This often entailed getting into a small four-passenger floatplane, (2) sailing forth to explore nature, and, ostensibly, estimating the value of the timber. One memorable time was when, on route to a camp, we flew through a violent rainstorm which literally tossed and buffeted our little airplane as if it were a toy. The expression “My heart was in my mouth,” does not do justice to this feeling of absolutely naked terror. After this indelible impression, we landed beside a large floating camp.
These “camps” were built on logs (or later on Styrofoam pads) and literally floated on the water. They included, most importantly, a cookhouse, a washing area (toilets, showers, etc.), and dormitories. In camp hierarchy, the cook reigned supreme. If he liked you, there were late-night snacks and other tasty treats. All were designed to mitigate the blatant drudgery of the work and the boring company of your semi-intelligent co-workers and compatriots. This particular time, my father had to speak to the camp superintendent, who was also the owner. This is an extremely wet part of the world — 200 to 300 centimeters of rain, in a year, being extremely normal. These small-time businessmen only received their money when the logs were actually delivered to the logging company’s “booming site.” (3) In this poor soul’s case, a large percentage of his trees were actually sinking when they were put into the ocean, being too water–laden to float. He felt that his situation was unfair and to reinforce the point, he was going bankrupt.
The cook poured us a cup of extremely strong coffee. I remember this as one of those seminal moments in life when “you become a man,” coffee being one of the symbols of manhood. This man’s hand literally shook as he drank his coffee. In my sheltered life, I had never seen anyone under this kind of stress — horrifying and sickening. It produced a deep disrespect for pure “laissez-faire” capitalism. The rest of the day passed peacefully. Trees that are freshly cut produce an indelible odor. It is the kind of scent that you never forget: hauntingly sweet but imbued with a tragic sense of ebbing life. This was a time of industrial logging and all of its consequences. An interesting clip on YouTube entitled “The Invisible Ax: People, Profit and Progress on a Planet under Pressure,” (4) gives some thoughtful ideas.
Today, I feel so separated from nature that it is hard to believe that it actually exists in its natural state. True, I see the occasional errant bird or insect fly by my window, but the rest is a vista of concrete and steel circumscribed by greenhouse-raised plants and grass. Thankfully, new thinking is focused in the direction of a “partnership” between man and nature. I recently enjoyed this video, Environmentalism: From the control of nature to partnership (5) and please tell us what you think. I do believe that hope and positive human development are in the ascendant. Mankind is smart and will “pull off” this transition. Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882) leaves us with a thought: Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.
A closing thought: Memories are a part of that wonderful lake of consciousness we all swim in. I find, intriguingly, that as I age, I remember more of my youth and early adolescence. The mind seems to have a clever way of removing the negative past and appending positive bits to its history. The current slate of historical revisionism flies in the face of this, however. It is difficult to judge the actions of yesteryear with contemporary eyes and knowledge. It would be cruel to adjudicate the destructive logging practices of old with our modern understanding of the natural world, for example. So it is with human race relations. There was even a recent attempt to sanction Winston Churchill as a racist. (6) If he was, so what? He was a man of his times that allowed the freedoms that we all enjoy to flourish, especially the right to protest and feel like a victim without state punishment or penalty. This is where our critical thinking skills are most important if we want to live victimless lives.
To sum up: This week we spoke about positive memories.
To be noted: From Benjamin Disraeli (7) — Justice is truth in action.
Just for fun: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YqXvrVX6lU4&ab_channel=medici.tv
For reflection: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gzj7zP5BXdc&ab_channel=ProctorGallagherInstitute
This week on your reflective walk please consider what nature means to you and your family.
Every day look for something magical and beautiful.
Quote: The sound of birds in the early morning light reminds us that we have been given another magnificent day to affect positive change.
Footnotes:
1) Paul Bunyan was a mythical lumberjack or logger in North American folklore that possessed tremendous strength and stamina.
2) A floatplane is a type of seaplane, with slender pontoons (known as “floats”) mounted under the fuselage which provides buoyancy or floatation.
3) A booming area is a location, usually on the water, where logs can be assembled in groups, known as booms, for transportation to a mill or factory.