VANCOUVER ISLAND - January 20, 2018


Catherine Cummins's photo.

Flutterings and tittering of small birds amid the mature Douglas fir, sitka spruce, western red cedar and arbutus trees follow as we walk a lakeside trail in Victoria's Westhills neighbourhood. From the marsh ahead, blackbird calls draw us forward and we stop on a boardwalk bridge to watch river otters eating their catch, noisily chomping and smacking.

In counterpoint to this music of nature is the roar of a crusher as it processes what has been blasted from the hillsides surrounding this small fresh-water lake. A fellow walker teases me about wearing sandals in January and begs me not to spread the word, as there are too many people here already. The blight of rampant consumerism rages unchecked as malls and housing developments gobble the available flat land and climb to the tops of the mountains. I can't decide if people build these large homes to house what they have already bought or buy to fill their new homes. Either way, it is senseless waste.

All along Juan de Fuca highway, land has been clear cut and levelled and huge billboards advertise the newest projects - waterfront property, view lots and oceanside living. How can such rocky and steep land support so many people - the logistics of sewer, water and hydro is staggering. After 5pm, the single lane highway is clogged with cars returning home from goodness knows where. We drive to French Beach Provincial Park and spend a few hours immersed in surf and breach and green vegetation.

Here I ponder why it is that we as humans smother and destroy what we love. Quaint Victoria is no more, bursting at the seams now with people and cars and commerce. The relaxed Island lifestyle has been replaced by the frenetic pace of any large city. The wild oceanscapes that once drew admiring tourists are posted 'private - no trespassing' and the provincial and regional parks are dwarfed by neighbouring development and the paths are worn deep by too many feet. Tide pools and beaches once teeming with life are barren and clogged with the flotsam and jetsam of a throw away culture.

We came to Vancouver Island only to visit our dear friends; an afternoon of good wine, great food, reminiscences of early life in Thunder Bay and lots of hugs and laughter. For that reason, we would return, but without any expectation other than to be disappointed in the Island itself. It has become like any other large urban centre and has been robbed of what once made it special.

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