holding hands across darkness
the stars pulsated with my heart.
I awoke from freedom
to a barbed wire tangle
in the Canadian weeds.
How much good surf and
poutine make being separated
from deeply loved
family and friends worth it?
I’ll get back
Hooray! It seems that the Capitol Region District committee members voted against the rezoning of land to create the resort. They even mentioned not wanting the issue to turn into another Clayuquot Sound indicating that the fierceness of that protest and the protest against the development were a factor in the decision. At the hearing I attended there was even mention of turning this into an act of civil disobedience if needed.
Ender Ilkay is currently deciding what he’ll do with the land. Under current zoning, he’s only allowed to build up to seven total houses on it, or use it for natural resource extraction of some kind. He threatened to log, but word on the street is that timber harvesting wouldn’t be profitable for him and I can’t see him spending the money to do it out of spite. Meanwhile, there is a motion to buy the lands from him and attach them to the existing park thereby turning the narrow strip of protected land into something that it more useful for wildlife. Time to start fund raising.
What if the time became even more elastic?
The long and slow stretches began to last seconds instead
of hours or days?
In conversation, the pauses between words
began to stretch and contract
making cipher indecipherable?
I’m just wondering. Sometimes people feel out
Sometimes time does strange, nonlinear things.
In a (slightly strange) post card, a friend recently
asked me about the sequence of events that may occur at death.
Robinson Jeffers writes eloquently and poetically about the transformation
of brain chemistry that probably occurs. My idea was that
time stretches out asymptotically such that your brain perceives death
as an approaching, but unreachable end. Maybe heaven is that last
millisecond before your heart stops? Maybe it’s all in your head which
is exactly where everything else in the world is to begin with.
So, I attended the meeting last night. It was second night of the planned two night meeting. I eventually figured that the second night may need more people than the first, which had all the hype and publicity. I was also watching the swell in the strait and, well, a surfer is a surfer no matter what. Turns out the waves were pretty good, but that’s another matter.
The meeting was a hearing for the committee assigned to review the bylaws which pertain to the zoning change requested by the developer. If the zoning doesn’t change, then there can be no resort. People were given a chance to speak with 5 minutes allotted and the only restriction being to keep it civil. No name calling, no slander, no pointing fingers. It is Canada after all.
The result was a series of beautiful expositions on what that area means to all of the people of the community. Basically, it was a great outpouring of love for the space and desire to see it protected somehow, or at least prevented from becoming host to an unneeded development. I’ve never seen so many people express an identity with land in a vocal way like that and it was heartening to witness.
Although I was tempted to flee the meeting to try to get waves while there was light and tide, I chose to stay and speak. My main focus was that the land is a common good and it’s condition directly affects the experience visitors of the Juan de Fuca park will have. If the forest is altered, or homes established, or noise created, then the thousands of hikers who use the trail will have their experience diminished.
The meeting ended with more people on the speaker list than there was time for. This requires another meeting because these proceedings have to allow anyone willing to express an opinion time to state that opinion. So, a third meeting is being held at this moment. Although the arguments against the resort are clear, the decision is up to the mayors of 5 districts many of whom are pro development. There was murmuring of monkey wrenching, or civil disobedience, and other more extreme measures should the greenlight be granted. Count me in.