Revisiting Nature

In this last post for 2022 I am revisiting an essential topic, one which is critical to my, and our, survival: nature.  

Nature is the whole composite of earth, wind, water and sun, and the plants and animals which use those forces. Put together, they comprise the ecosystem - and humans are part of that ecosystem. We exist because of nature.

No one single image can adequately capture my experience of nature in Victoria. Here are two.

Camas in morning sun. Camas is a vivid spring plant, native to the unique ecosystem of Garry Oak meadows, with a rich history of use as a food plant by the Lekwungen peoples.

Gull and oystercatchers at low tide. Much of Victoria's shoreline is designated a Migratory Bird Sanctuary, under the federal Migratory Bird Convention Act.

I've encountered these signs along many accesses to the ocean in Victoria. The Victoria Harbour Migratory Bird Sanctuary is the oldest in Canada. For more information, see https://vicharbourbirds.ca/. 

As I walk Victoria, I frequently encounter small pieces of evidence, like the signs above, that reflect efforts to educate us Victorians about the importance of nature here.

On the grounds of Government House, in the Garry Oak meadow, I encountered a NatureHood sign. Here is a photo from when it was installed, in 2017.

Bob Peart, then chair of Nature Canada, and Lt Gov Judy Guichon, 2017. This photo was taken during the unveiling of the NatureHood plaque at Government House. Source: https://naturecanada.ca/news/blog/naturehood-designation-in-victoria-bc/

Nature Canada, which represents organizations of naturalists across the country, describes NatureHood as a way of inspiring urban Canadians, especially youth, to celebrate, learn about, and care for nature.

There is now a NatureHood map of Greater Victoria. The brochure containing the map is jam-packed with information about places of especially high value for nature. 

Cover, NatureHood brochure / map. The map can be downloaded at https://www.gvnaturehood.com/greater-victoria-naturehood-map

Here is an image excerpted from the map:

Excerpt, NatureHood map of Victoria. The red highlighted area along the coast is the Victoria Harbour Migratory Bird Sanctuary.

I watched a short 4 minute video about three migratory bird sanctuaries in Greater Victoria, and the amazing richness of birdlife here. See https://www.gvnaturehood.com/post/new-videos-greater-victoria-s-three-migratory-bird-sanctuaries. The last speaker, Jacques Sirois, summed up his message: he wants those of us who live here to "pay attention".  

Those words remind me of the lines from Mary Oliver:

"Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it."

At a societal level, we pay attention when we map nature's features, and identify sensitive areas. And, at a personal level, when we explore nature mindfully.

These days, though, we need to do more than just "tell about it". Last year, 2021, marked the beginning of the United Nations Decade of Restoration. The purpose of this designation is big: to prevent, halt and reverse the degradation of ecosystems on every continent and in every ocean.

Logo of the UN Decade on Ecosystem Restoration

I mentioned how I see evidence of work to protect nature around Victoria. That work includes restoration. Here are a few examples:

Dinghy Dock and Gangway at Tod Inlet, where a partnership of organizations and BC Parks are working to protect and restore marine ecosystems. The sign indicates the organizations contributed to the construction of the dock and gangway.

Years ago I did a small piece of work for Seachange Marine Conservation Society, helping with a brochure about seagrass. Seachange is working to protect and restore seagrass beds which are a critical part of the marine ecosystem, providing habitat, food and nursery for many species. They are damaged by human activities including boat mooring methods, and runoff from land which reduce water clarity.

Image of seagrass. Source: Seachange Marine Conservation Society

The first step in protection is knowing what is there. Many coastal communities have participated in community seagrass mapping initiatives, and planted seagrass slips.

Communities with eelgrass mapping initiatives, from the Seachange website.  https://seagrassconservation.org/where-we-work/

Forest ecosystems are also the focus of restoration efforts; the next three photos illustrate signage in Cuthbert Holmes Park, which includes a section of the Colquitz River, its estuary, and a forest of semi-mature Douglas fir. 

This sign recognizes the role of volunteers in restoration efforts.

A very direct message for dog owners.

Signage emphasizing the sensitivity of this natural area, and the behaviour requested of users.

Restoration is time-consuming work requiring both expertise and willingness to put in laborious hours. Invasive plant management is one of the tasks that is particularly arduous; the reality is that invasive plants are a fact of life in many of Victoria's natural areas.

This sign, from the trail around Cedar Hill golf course, also recognizes the role of volunteers in helping with restoration.

Here is one final sign that involves education.

Sign near Gonzales Beach. I've noticed that humans are particularly drawn to "big" examples of nature such as whales and seals. Lifeforms such as pollinators, fungi and bacteria -- all of which are also essential to our survival -- are less exciting.

I started this post with the comment that we need nature in order to survive. Years ago the term "natural capital" was coined to express the unmeasurable importance of nature (although there have been attempts to quantify what nature brings us). A more common term now is "ecosystem services", used to describe what nature does for us -- divided into four categories of Supporting (e.g. cycling water and nutrients), Regulating (e.g. controlling processes like runoff), Provisioning (e.g.provision of food), and Cultural (e.g.recreation).

The four main categories of Ecosystem Services. Source: https://www.earthwiseaware.org/what-are-ecosystem-services/

The UN Biodiversity Conference ended in Montreal less than two weeks ago with a significant achievement -- an agreement to guide global action for nature, including focussing on biodiversity loss, ecosystem restoration, and protecting the rights of indigenous peoples. 

As one UN spokesperson said, the agreement is aimed at "truly making peace with nature". That sounds like a good goal for the next year.

May we deeply think about the consequences of our behaviour for nature, and make the changes nature needs us to make.

Golden Paintbrush, Beacon Hill Park. There are few populations remaining for this plant in this area; one small example of the need to strengthen biodiversity.

Victoria, As My Father Might Have Seen It

Thirty-eight years ago today my father died. Had he lived, he would now be 102. I have been thinking about him a lot the past few weeks. He was a quiet, gentle man. I've imagined touring him around Victoria, and the things that might have interested him.

As I've rounded up images to convey what he might have noticed, I've realized the amount I've been influenced by him, in ways I have only begun to appreciate the last few years.

My father was born in England and lived in Weston-super-Mare from the time he was four. For those of us who don't know Latin (!!), his birthplace translates to "Weston on the sea". (There was a second Weston, so the "super Mare" was added for clarification.)

The town is located on the estuary of the Severn River, and is known for its significant tidal range, leading to extensive sandy beaches and tidal mud flats.  Because of this, at low tide the sea can sometimes be over a kilometre away from the shoreline. My dad used to jokingly call his home town "Weston-super-mud".

The rocky, kelp strewn beaches of Victoria would have been very different from my father's childhood memories of the sea and miles of sand and mud flats. This image is of an October sunrise looking towards Finlayson Point.

Sandy beaches can be found in Victoria, but even these have a wildness to them, which would have been unfamiliar to my father's experience of the ocean.

A sand and rock beach below Dallas Road at low tide, showing gigantic logs washed up at the high tide line. The gorse on the cliffs is blooming. This is not a native plant, but was brought to Canada most likely from Europe.

Here is a closer view of the shoreline after a storm.

The contrast between this wild debris-strewn shoreline and the sand and mud flats of the Weston-super-Mare shoreline would have been profound for my dad.

One more image attesting to the wildness of the sea in Victoria:

Debris on the Dallas Road pathway after a windstorm pushed sea water over the seawall. I imagine my father might have taken a prudent approach to view these breakers; he would have walked, rather than risk having saltwater spray his vehicle.

An ardent advocate for social justice and human rights, my father would have appreciated the efforts in Victoria to provide beach access for those less able to navigate the rocky shoreline.

Ramp access to the beach, off Dallas Road near the Ross Bay cemetery. I have seen this used by people with strollers, as well as those confined to wheelchairs or using a walker.

Here is a better view of the ramp itself.

The ramp to access the beach. This is removed at the end of each summer.

The abundance of logs on the beaches along Dallas Road reminds me of childhood family campfires built from driftwood on the shore of the Ghost reservoir, in the Alberta foothills. I would have reminisced about those times walking this beach with my dad. He would have been intrigued by the variety of shelters people make for wind protection on the beach.

Driftwood shelter. In the far background is a cruise ship berthed at Ogden Point.

My father loved flying and was an air cadet in his youth. When World War II broke out, he discovered Canada when he came to this country to train for the RAF, through the "British Commonwealth Air Training Plan". Over the course of the war Canada built 151 training schools, and 7,000 hangars, barracks and drill halls, as well as miles of runways, all as a result of this massive program.

My father as an air cadet at 15.

My father (second from  the right) in 1945 with the crew of a Lancaster. My dad was the navigator. A decade ago, in the RAF Museum in the UK, I learned of the perils and physical discomforts (including frostbite) these flight crews faced. The risk of being shot down, or injured from flak, was very high.

After the war, my father continued to enjoy airplanes. He would have appreciated Victoria's role as a transport hub for planes and boats.

Harbour Air runs many flights a day amongst west coast communities, from downtown Victoria. My dad would have enjoyed tracking the planes, and I'm sure he would have wanted to go for a seaplane ride. He told my mother many times how safe flying is.

Mural along the inner harbour walkway, showing sea plane and a water taxi.

The harbour water taxis would have intrigued my father.

And my father would definitely have enjoyed the shipping life of Victoria, both its history, and present day activity. When I was 5 our family travelled back to the UK to visit relatives. I vividly recall our return trip across the Atlantic by passenger liner; my father and I wandered the ship while my seasick mother and two brothers were confined to their berth.

The RMS Ivernia, the ship our family travelled on in 1956.

Pilot boats at Ogden Point; these guide ships through some of the channels in Juan de Fuca Strait. The large vessel in the background is the "Cable Innovator" which lays fibre optic cable. Google announced in April a new fibre optic cable from Port Alberni to Japan. Dad would have been fascinated by these changes in technology.

The Ocean Cleanup vessels which dock at Ogden Point periodically to offload their plastic waste would also have intrigued my father. The Ocean Cleanup is an international non profit organization aimed at eliminating plastic from the planet's oceans; funding partners include the gigantic shipping company Maersk.

With his background in navigation, my father loved maps (as do I).

Learning the lay of the land from a map came naturally to my father. He would have enjoyed learning about the significance of Victoria for wildlife. This view is of Victoria's Trial Islands.

My father enjoyed architecture, both old and modern. A few years after he and my mother emigrated to Canada they bought a house built in the early 1900's in Calgary, across the street from then Wesley United Church (built 1913). 

The house my parents bought in 1956 in the Connaught neighbourhood of Calgary. (Photo thanks to my brother Rob who found it in a family album.) We lived in this house for only a few years; after my other brother John and I started school my parents felt we needed more contact with other children, so moved to the suburbs and lived in rental houses for several years.

After moving from the house in Connaught, my parents were reluctant to let it go, so for awhile they rented rooms in it to make ends meet. I remember sitting with my dad while he wrote in a ledger the rents he was receiving. Numbers like $28 and $32 stick in my mind. Eventually they sold the house, but did not realize developers were buying up the neighbourhood. The house, along with almost the entire Connaught neighbourhood, has been replaced by highrises.

So many fine old houses in James Bay and Fairfield might have reminded my dad of our old house in Calgary. The house above is on Parry Street. 

This scene from the courtyard of the Royal BC Museum would have spoken to my dad, both to his love of modern architecture, and of sculpture.

My father enjoyed analyzing numbers and making sense of them (another thing I inherited from him). He would have appreciated the counters on a couple of Victoria's cycle paths.

The counter can be seen to the left on this cycle path downtown. See the next photo for a closer view.

The daily count of cyclists as of 2 pm.on the day I took this photo, March 13, 2022, was up to 676! There would be many more by the end of the day. The counter is a great idea; it reinforces for cyclists that they are part of a developing trend, and helps educate others about the significance of pedal power.

Although he participated in World War II, my father became a committed activist for peace, along with my mother. 

My parents helped found the Calgary chapter of Operation Dismantle, which was aimed at bringing the pressure of public opinion on governments to end the nuclear arms race. My father would have appreciated this plaque at the cenotaph.

He would also have appreciated this scene from the Afghanistan memorial on Quadra street, showing positive energy towards peace in a moving tribute.

I have also inherited my dad's love of walking, and reading, and writing. My brother Rob reminded me that Dad wrote incisive short essays, including some op-eds for the Calgary Herald newspaper about disarmament. He would have enjoyed Victoria's many Little Libraries, and their invitations to discover, to read, to sit... and then to walk on while enjoying the mystery, and the adventure.

James Bay Little Library

And finally, I honour my father's interest in science, and his curiosity to learn.

Your blogger on a windy day, with the now closed Gonzales Observatory in the background. Built in 1914, the Observatory recorded weather, seismic, and astronomical data for 75 years. It is now incorporated into the University of Victoria School of Earth and Ocean Sciences. My dad would have enjoyed the trek up the hill, and learning about the building's role in providing essential data for monitoring the earth.

My dad died far too young, of the cancer associated with asbestos. He had limited exposure to asbestos, that we know of, in his life, so the reason for the illness was a mystery, although perhaps those military aircraft of his youth were a factor, or asbestos in another house we lived in.

My siblings and I have wondered what he might have done with his life if he had lived longer. My brother Rob suggests he might have used his talents to serve on a board of an organization he believed in. Since that is something I have done, and still do, it's another value I inherited from him.

The Moss Lady in a peaceful corner of Beacon Hill Park. Accessible only by walkers, the contemplative spot where she lies would have appealed to my father.

I have enjoyed exploring Victoria, with my father's eyes. The journey has reminded me how much of him I carry with me, and of the many gifts he left me.

Details Matter! (Part 2)

In my first post about "Details" I explored how small elements of design can make a big difference in our enjoyment of our urban landscape.

In this post, I'm exploring the same question, but from the perspective of function. Details can make a difference in how our urban landscape works. 

I will examine two elements of the urban landscape: fences, and public open space.

Fences

"Good fences make good neighbours". Robert Frost raised the question of the benefits, and the negatives, of fences, in the poem "Mending Wall", where this phrase first appeared. 

A fence is a border. It may provide clarity, but it can also divide and separate. One of the aspects I enjoy about the areas of Victoria that I walk through is the openness of the people who live here. And, they show it in how they live in their residences and gardens -- and the nature of the fences they erect. For me, a fence is a detail which tells a lot about how a community sees itself.

The openness of this fence allows visual communiucation between the passer-by and those in the dwelling. The chair on the porch, facing the street, gives an implicit message of looking outward to the community.

The open pickets on this fence allow visual connection through it. And, the fence is low enough that people can talk over it. The presence of the Little Library also speaks to community connection. Passers-by are invited to stop and browse.  All of these are subtle details which add to the experience of community.

Yes, community is all about love. I interpreted this spontaneous bulletin board to be an invitation to leave positive messages to others in the community.

The mural on this house could not be seen and enjoyed if the owners of the house had chosen to separate themselves from the community with a solid fence. 

The bench facing the sidewalk, with the patio area in the front, tells a story -- of relationship and openness. This house has no fence, just shrubbery between it and the sidewalk.

And one more example of a house, close to the sidewalk, with a bench out front. No fence, just shrubbery.

A house close to the sidewalk, with a porch with chairs; feels friendly to me!

I'll close this quick overview of fences and community with two examples of streetscapes, and the feeling that is created when houses are close to the sidewalk, with or without fences.

Lewis Street in James Bay. This short historic street has no sidewalks, few fences, and a strong community. The plaque on the fence in the foreground tells of the first owners of this heritage house built in 1908.

Although it's a short street, Lewis Street has a pleasant play area, shown in the photo which follows. 

The Lewis Street playground, part of the community along this street. Here are a few community-oriented features to notice, besides the shade tree, the picnic table and bench: the Little Library, the speed bump on the street, and the sign showing a pedestrian connection to the next street over. 

Capital Park development on Michigan Street, before the grass was seeded last year. I like the European feel of the units with their decks close to the sidewalk, and the translucency of deck railings. (As a side note, the trees were all protected during construction with sturdy fences around them. They seem to have weathered the lengthy construction period well.)
 

The communities I have featured in these few images would have a very different feel if residences were set far back from the street, with high fences or hedges obscuring views. There would be subliminal messages of isolation, privacy, and protection. Instead, we have "eyes on the street" (as urbanist Jane Jacobs termed it) of many people living near the street helping to keep the community safe, and to build a sense of belonging. 

Open Spaces

Another feature of community is the presence of public spaces where people can gather. I've puzzled about why some spaces encourage people to enjoy them, whereas others seem to stay empty for much of the time. What makes one work, and another, not so much?

Factors I've identified include access to food, provision of comfortable places to sit, and feelings of safety. These factors speak more to how the space functions, rather than how it looks. .

This open area is usually busy. Why this area? It's located at the intersection of two sidewalks which see a lot of foot traffic. There is access to food and seating, and the scale is intimate, yet open enough that people can wander in and out freely. 

I contrast the busyness of the small sitting space in front of the Red Barn Market with the usually unoccupied seats in front of the Good Earth. Why is this space underutilized? There is food nearby, the space is definitely open, but it's almost too open. There is no intimate quality to it. I think that will change as the trees which have been planted mature. The space could easily accommodate more seating; more people in the square would change its energy.  Finally, there is a wind tunnel just off to the right, between two of the buildings; this may also be a factor in how the space is used.. 

This is not a public space, but an outside restaurant patio, off Bastion Square. As the image shows, it's humming with activity. People like to go where there is food, and be near where there are other people. The phrase "safety in numbers" comes to mind. I like the way the area has been enclosed with the potted plants. It provides a feeling of intimacy, without losing its open qualities.

This empty space is a public courtyard within the main branch of Victoria's public library. A second view is provided in the next photo.

The Library courtyard showing the large blank walls on the other side. Though this space is sheltered from wind, it has no sense of intimate scale to invite people to sit (and, seating is limited!) The dark entrance of the library in the background is a little ominous. I think people like to feel a space is safe, and that they have an exit. The library only provides an exit if it is open. There is no cafe or restaurant nearby. All these features contribute to an almost desolate atmosphere.

This is the courtyard at the Library's front entrance. It's covered, so protected from the elements. One would think it would be crowded with people enjoying the space, but usually it's not. Why? My thought is that it lacks the balance between having an intimate feel and at the same time having an openness to it. Perhaps this courtyard carries that aura. Plus, there are neither food vendors nor colour! Colour adds life and vibrancy. I recall visiting a library in Chetwynd in northern BC a few years ago which had a cafe right inside the library. The library was a popular place!

A magnificent art installation in the library courtyard. I rarely see people sitting around and enjoying either the space or the art.

Perhaps this dark tunnel-like entrance to the library is another reason people refrain from congregating outside. 

This is another public courtyard, off Pandora Street. As the photo shows, it's empty. There are no food vendors nearby, few benches for people to sit, and a complexity of stairs. It feels sterile and bleak. 

Janion Square, off Johnson Street, is south-facing, and has bike lock-ups, some trees and benches. It's a popular rendez-vous point for cyclists; there are often people sitting here.

This area outside the Yates Street Market is usually very busy. There is food inside, sheltered chairs to sit on and a pleasant ambience. The design in the sidewalk adds to the feeling of an intimate space inviting the passerby to sit for a few minutes. There often may be people sitting on the sidewalk near the store entrance with their hats out.

Here's a functional detail that is important in Canada. These benches face north. They rarely see the sun, and the building offers little protection from any weather coming from the north, east or west. Because of this, I rarely see people using the benches.

These benches are sheltered and face south - and of course, have an amazing view! They are often occupied, unlike the north-facing ones in the previous phot.

From fences to planning public open space... the details do matter. I hope you agree! There will be more posts to come, as I ponder what works and doesn't work in our urban areas.