spring storm and the aching river

Spring sprung today. There are many new bird voices in the open air choir.
There was a storm last night.
Suddenly, in the middle of the night,
Kili and I sat blot-upright in bed in terror
to the louded crashing rumble -
It was terrifying. Then it was dead silent.

Then a sharp flash of lightening
and the sound of the rain. It moved on quickly.

I wonder how everyone here in Cambridge did;
were there any heartattacks? people up all night?
I imagine mamas praying, and some long thought wanders
in the small hours of the morning.

I came to the conclusion that I am a crazy fool to think that I could get out of here on my bike if shit goes sideways! Kili reassured me that I could this morning.

Earlier, on this warm, warm day
- i sit here nowin silky camisole and skirt, mmhmmm-
I walked down to river to see traces of the storm.

There were trees freshly fallen. Grass caught in the branches about a foot or so above the current water level. The grass was all pointed the same way, straight out, as though a fast moving stream were pulling it fiercely.

The whole surface of downtown is sealed up. All of the water runs off the roofs, over the pavement, off the roads, down into the gutters. All the natural run-off streams that once drained the area where the city is, and now funnelled into pipes.

Earth that once was a big recycling and purifying sponge would absorb so much water, and discharge it into the river slowly. Now it is all just shot into the river all at once.

The they build flood walls. Which destroyed the ecosystems on the bank, which are her only way cultivate enough life to digest the river on its way. I ache for the river. It is too much and too fast for her to clean.


[photo]

There is an area where the bank is eroding inches from the concrete path, that leads under the bay windows of something. I would like to plant willow in the manner that Oliver Kellehammer did in Grandveiw cut.

The Grandview cut is a steep, narrow, manmade ravine that was made the railway, back when. They put the a second skytrain in that ran through a section of the cut. They had to deforest to build, and of course the banks quickly began to erode once they did. The city of Vancouver was threatening to lace concerete blocks up the sides of the cut to stop the erosion. Houses would soon be in danger.

Oliver put in a proposal, as an artist and gardener. He would reforest the cut with willow and locus, it would only cost 30 thousand, not the 200 thousand of concrete and manpower. It would look better and we can market it as art. The city agreed. In gumboots on the muddy slope with a backback of cuttings, he stuck the slope with hundreds of willows, one every 10 feet or so, and laced black lotus in between.

Now people live in there. There are bird counts to document all changing numbers of bird activity in the corridor. Now when I google *Grandview Cut*, all that comes up is Vancouver's second largest greenspace.

Oliver Kellhammer, -artist, activist, and intellect, founder of the Cottonwood Community Gardens,- was one of my two fantastic permaculture teachers at Linnaea.

There is that section of the river which does desperately need to be held gently, and with life, in place. I should like to talk to all parties involved, and hopefully all can be convinced to help protect them. Basket willow is native to this area, and so useful. It would encourage the constant pruning of the willow too. If you are interested in helping, please let me know.

"Sentiment without action is the ruin of the soul." Edward Abbey