Enid Petherick
Artist and Observer
of the Wilds
June 16 2002
The Blaeberry River, a glacial river, normally meanders in channels over the flats below our house, bubbling over shallow gravel bars, gliding like satin through deeper channels, splashing into a jutting rock outcrop and eddying back into the current. During the fall we can stand on this rock and gaze through clear green water into a deep pool (secret lair of trout). Beyond this the river flows smoothly past steep clay banks (home of the graceful Bank Swallow).
Sometime last night I woke to hear the river roaring--not its usual bubble or steady murmur, but angry scraping and groaning. Spring runoff...High water!! In the morning we hurried to the river to see sandbars and islands disappearing and a sweep of muddy water spilling over banks and spreading across the river flats. A piece of driftwood rushed past us, bucking and dipping like an undulating alligator.
About fifty years ago--long before we became land owners--a logging company pushed a road along the river, then abandoned it shortly after. The original road has disappeared into the river in places and the remainder weaves like a snake's path around the river's "bites". Now, the muddy river pushes out and flows down the road. As we watch the progress of the flood, the heightening water on the road spreads out--then reclaims--three dry creek beds. All three empty into a pond which is hemmed in by the same ridge the house sits on. This pond begins to swell and soon becomes a lake, growing to finally cascade back over the road, re-joining the river.
June 17
We breakfast on the front deck and survey the changed landscape before us.
The babble and honking of wild geese attracts our attention and we watch a flock rise from the newly formed lake. Squabbling and flying in circles before orienting themselves and becoming organised in their usual "V" formation. Other birds seem to enjoy (or be excited by...?) nature's excesses. Birdsong floats from among the trees. We too wait in anticipation to explore the changes that are being wrought.
July
9
Rich splashes of orange Woodlily, purple Riverbeauty and crimson Paintbrush
dot the river flats--which a few days ago were covered in muddy water. Pale
yellow spikes of Alpine Locoweed offer a cool contrast. Over the gravel beds
the Mountain Avens have opened their tiny rosebud flowers and I know that
hidden beneath the trees in boggy areas are patches of delicate White Rein
Orchids. With fleshy leaves snuggled close to the ground, the Common Butterwort
sends up purple flowers to attract its meal of insects.
The flood land has become a generous host to a thriving plant community. For
us it is the destination of many walks as we check the progress of the water
receding, and search out the various flowers, admiring, examining, and smelling.
Summer was late but the show has been well worth the wait.
July 22
I watched the gopher race down the bank and disappear under the protruding
root of a large stump....
Several years ago I was in the kitchen, baking, when I heard, "Enid,
Look!" "Enid, come see!!" The excitement in the girls’ voices
sent me running to the backyard. Looking about I could see no one, nothing.
"Up here! We're here!" Puzzled I looked into the sky. The top
of a tall spruce was trembling. No wind. Good Heavens! Lisa was silhouetted
against the sky. Amber's shirt showed between the branches a few feet below.
"HERE! LOOK UP!" And the spruce top shook harder. I had trouble
finding my voice.
"Yes, YES I SEE YOU"...Tumbled thoughts flashed through my mind--I
was alone on the place that day...no car...various kinds of first aid..."ARE
YOUREADY TO COME DOWN NOW?"...the branches will cushion their fall...encourage
them...don't let them see I am scared..."WOW, THAT'S QUITE A CLIMB!!"...
When they arrived at the bottom flushed with the thrill of achievement, I
didn't have the heart to scold. A few years later, uprooted by a strong wind,
this giant fell into our backyard, grazing a corner of the roof. We have
missed this towering tree, but it is comforting to know it still offers shelter
and succor to the little wild things (even a gopher that pigs out on our beets--*&%*#).
"Reverance #1"
Enid Petherick
