RAVINE RESUSCITATION

LACE BUD

It’s hot and super humid. The traffic, the noise, the constant rush-rush of la-la land grinds away at the senses. It seems that too many are comfortable (or are they?) with all of it. I walk on, fading into the background. There’s a quiet space within that. It’s not long now anyway.

Beneath interlaced branches, the trees breathe a cooling balm as I walk down into the ravines. The chaos of la-la land abates. I’ll take any bit of access to the natural world I can get, especially these days. On all levels, I need it.

POST LACE

Hiking inside a city; it’s always been such a novel idea to me, even after several years. It’s an experience I never had growing up, since I grew up in a village. Hiking has a very different meaning in the city than what I grew up with. There are no real woodlands here. Instead, there are the remains of land that’s been pillaged and abandoned, with partial attempts to resuscitate it in the most meaningful(?) of ways. I’ve long noticed where the benefits of such endeavours flow.

There are ideas, the beginning grassroots and formation of whatever group, the push to get grants, donations, funding. All of which is highly competitive. It grows a bit and then a little more, depending on various circumstances. Many fail. Once it gets to a point of receiving enough “attention” and “interest”, it will inevitably become co-opted and used to facilitate other plans. Also, there is the in-fighting, the “me-me-me’s”, that go on and on in a mindless chattering litany. Those daring to be too different from the group in their ideas and thoughts are shamed into adopting group mentality to enough of a degree to survive within it. If they do not do this, they are pushed out of the group.

BUBBLE REFLECTIONS

I’ve been directly involved with some of these groups, the longest was about three years for two different ones. They had good intentions for the most part, although neither exists now. What I saw though, is the allowing of outside influences to dictate and completely alter the direction of such well-meaning intentions. I see people not paying attention to how they are influenced and it gets to a point where there is this coldness, this detachment, this lack of care that develops, while one grinds through the whole experience.

Thoughts like this go through my mind every time I go to a certain area of the ravines. It is land and people that have been treated in the manner I’ve described above. I watched it all happen over a period of years because it was a project I was interested in becoming involved with. It’s very noticeable once something becomes appropriated. This occurred before an opportunity for me to become involved came up.

As I walked by that area in the ravines, I felt gratitude that I never became involved with anything there. It’s one less repeat experience of the same old, same old.

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Off the main beaten paths I go, as soon as possible to reach one of the spots I have mapped in my mind. It’s a short walk down to the creek from there, then along to two large rocks on one side. They are positioned like a leaning back chair. Both are rounded and smooth. It’s a natural seating area where I can use another small rock as a footrest, or soak my feet in the creek flowing by.

I hear the sound of the water washing along, up, over and around the rocks. The trees canopy overhead, while the sun spots patches to light up. It’s quiet. The city is muted, with only the occasional sound of others walking the main paths and the cicadas' click-click-click buzzing song. Relaxing into such moments is the most delicious experience.

Across the creek, up higher, is a huge ash tree. The sun had lit it up with what looked like over a hundred pinpoints of light. I watched it dance in the wind and light. Ash leaves are darker green; but in the light at that time of day, they looked bright green, lighter green, yellow, and highlighted with brilliant white dots of lights. What a gift to be there in that moment to see this.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

The tree in the sun and the sun in the tree; they are one, connected and interdependent on each other.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

BEE FLOWER

There are so many beautiful aspects of life like this that go unnoticed where I live. I don’t even have to go to the ravines to see them either. It could be anything, if one opens to the experience.

For years now, I get these looks from people I know when I point out the texture of a flower, the way water looks, a leaf, things I find on the ground that others consider garbage and so on. There’s this distinctive impression that they think I’m strange for seeing the world this way. I think they are missing out, which is the whole point of my sharing with them. There’s an openness that is necessary and a willingness to be present in the moment.

PURPLE PATH

I leave the creek behind, my cooled off feet now snugged into my boots. Even in the heat, I wear boots, an old habit. Other footwear doesn’t work well in the woods. Today, I took my camera with me hiking, a first, since this time I wanted to capture some photos. I think of the last hike when I didn’t have my camera.

I’d done a seven hour exploration. On the way back I’d turned off to the creek, went down to it for the spot I like to sit. Crisscrossing back and forth, I lost my balance, kissed several rocks with my body as I fell in, and then popped back up again half wet. I was grateful my camera wasn’t taken on that day. It would have met with water.

BURLY BARK

No scaling ravines today, a walk instead, so I can take photos. I took the paved path through the revived area. I avoid this almost always. I see there’s now a camera with audio recording capability installed on the path.

Always under surveillance. It never ends. Why does everything have to be shoved into some kind of conformity? The natural world knows its way. Nature doesn’t need human interference to force it into anything.

HAWK EYES

As I’m circling back around, not far from a willow tree, I’m bombarded by this shrieking out of nowhere. I’m about twenty yards from the tree. I don’t recognize the sound. I know it’s a bird. I can’t see it but there’s no not hearing it.

Someone wants my attention. I was going to walk by without looking but there was an instance that I go to the tree, so I do. It’s a young hawk. I should have known. I watch them all the time and know where several hang out in parts of the city. I’ve never heard their calls due to the city noise.
I decide to photograph it. The angle of the light isn’t good. I keep adjusting my position to get a better shot. The hawk is very aware of me. It is twelve feet above me in the tree. It keeps moving and finally flies a little higher to a branch where the leaves obscure most of it.

I’m thinking, you called me to you and now you won’t stay put for a few seconds so I can get decent shot. We danced a little more like that until it took flight from the tree, swooped around and headed north. I thought, I see, it’s a message delivery, not a photo opportunity. Message received. I move on.

WING DAMAGE

I’m on my way out of the ravines now. I stop to look at the garden on the way out. It’s a part of the revival effort. It’s there as a teaching tool for the programs they have. I’m saddened by what I see. Little to no effort has been taken to attend to it. I’m not sure why.

Watching food going to waste never sits well with me, especially when I’m acutely aware of how many people in the city live on the street with limited access to food (most of which is unhealthy food), not to mention all those barely scraping by, cemented in poverty.

HEART PAD

This “revived” place has been developed to meet the demands of those who are more entitled. Everything must be palatable on their terms. There’s a weekly farmers market, if you can call it that. The contrast between the vendors and the customers is like black and white.

BREATH

I used to enjoy having access to fresh farm produce and chatting with some of the vendors, despite having the entitled customers elbow me to and fro. On one occasion one of them attempted to shove me out of their way. I became an unmoving rock and took even longer because of this behaviour.

I’m not as pretty or acceptable as they are. They see that and then try to doormat me. I’m having none of it. I haven’t been able to go that market for almost two years. Those making the calls on rules have made it impossible for me to go buy food there now.

FINAL GATHERING

It’s just one more good-bye to life before.
This is now “normal”.
How long before I can’t buy food at all?
I know this is coming.
This is what people want.
They support it with their behaviour and choices.
So be it.

BARBERRY JAB

All photos taken by Nine with a Pentax digital 35mm camera and 90mm Tamron macro lens.