Still waters run deep

 

 

 

With shorter, wetter days now, it takes a little more effort and a few more clothing layers to go roaming very far.  By early September, I was regretting that the Hydration Series hadn't extended eastward another two miles to Renfrew Ravine.  It's not a place I would explore on my own, but it's important locally as an area where Still Creek has been daylighted successfully and salmon, with a little help from their human friends, are already starting to come back.

 

Then, just as the previous post was going to press, I happened upon this announcement:

 

"It's a sign!" as one friend would say.  Literally.  So I hit the button and signed up.  What's more, I could do some "daylighting" myself, revisiting a concept from an art book I'd acquired in the early 80s.

 

Here's one of Virginia Cobb's observations:

 

On one occasion, it was proven true for me when I found a flat, hand-sized rock slab with almost the same markings and proportions as a nearby cliff face familiar to us from our coastal hikes.  I planned to hold this thought when I visited Renfrew Ravine.

 

I arrived early at the "Yin Yang Bench".  (Is the world divided into yins who never arrive on time, and yangs who are never late?) 

 

This gave me time to walk around and examine in detail the delightful fish-themed mosaic constructed some years ago by community members.

 

Eventually, tour group leaders and participants straggled in.  Don't pass this on but, in truth, the session was organized chaos – in two languages.  Nonetheless, I enjoyed the surroundings, and I looked underfoot for things that might test Virginia Cobb's observation.

 

Back at home, though, I found a more useful model in a piece of driftwood collected somewhere else -- and pretended that it fit the concept.

 

With this at hand, I created a pretty quick splash entitled "Ravine at Low Water – Hydration Series" (copyright 2025). 

 

Remember my semi-serious theory that if I painted in very large size, I could hang with Gerhart Richter?   

 

Spectacular, isn't it?  Even if hung upside down or in the wrong orientation.

 

 

Now – just one more thing before we put Still Creek to bed:--(Don't even read this if birds freak you out).  Our local beach bum crows have one of their massive roosts in this area.   From Fall until the following late Spring, thousands of their kind migrate daily from beaches and coastal margins to East Vancouver and beyond.  At first light, westward to the beach; at early sunset, back again eastward to the roosts.  Just scroll through the pictures here to see what this mass flight looks like.

 

One of the pleasures of The Yellow House is that it's right under one of their flight paths.  As much as I've complained about the new building to the north blocking my mountain view, I delight in seeing them making a rest stop there, morning and evening.  A couple hundred might perch on the carpentry and crane, chatter away for a bit, and then with a WHOOSH, they're off in what seems a single coordinated movement.

 

And now, lights out on Summer Camp 2025.  It's been tons of fun, at least for those inclined to high jinx.

 

 

Homeward bound

 

Summer camp is drawing to a close, and we've covered a lot of ground in the interests of "Hydration".  This peaceful image is my friend G's house, just half a block from mine, and just possibly, it might be responsible for my original interest in Vancouver's hidden streams.

 

Her husband grew up in this house, his parents', and decades later, he and his bride became its proud owners.  I never knew him, but she told me stories he'd passed on – including the good times he and his pals had, playing in the creek that once ran just a block and a half from where I live. 

 

Click to enlarge this map, and just at the bottom right of the big yellow box, you'll see my small blue circle – encompassing G's house and mine, just west of the intersection through which that vigorous stream once ran.

 

Today, our local library branch is a stone's throw (shades of those scampy little boys!) from that intersection – and the library has done a nice job of dedicating some wall space to posters telling the local story.

 

Another brewery!  Well, you need to hydrate when you're busy operating a farm or nursery, like Mr. George Benson.

 

G's parents-in-law must have known the man.  Indirectly, his legacy lives on in the official name of this area of the city:-- Kensington-Cedar Cottage.

 

The final sentence of the library's storyboard lists the abundant marine life in what was then Gibson Creek.  No wonder environmental enthusiasts are interested in "daylighting" some of these long-gone streams.

 

Well, what was I going to do with this, as my finale in the Summer Camp Hydration Series?  Maybe something incorporating the rings of the tree stumps along G's block, remnants of aging cherry trees that had to be taken down.  (Vancouver and cherry trees make a complicated story). 

 

Using paraffin and rice paper, I made rubbings of parts of some stumps.

 

A nice abstract, but the rings were just too shallow for the rubbing to "take."  Then one morning, I woke up thinking of topographic maps, which I'd loved playing with after learning about them in 6^th grade.  Wow – that would be something:--  my neighbourhood with all its ups and downs.

 

Oh, darn.  Not a good idea, after all.  I quickly confused the look of topographic maps with the look of aerial maps.

 

Time and tides wait for no Person, and I needed to move on.  The solution?  I just plunged right into the water (resisting the temptation to add small boys' bare feet).

 

Nothing very satisfying about that so I became more definite, with colour and with lines bordering the wave movements.  Here it is:  "Daylighting the Hidden Stream – Hydration Series," copyright 2025.  (Yes, I smile too when I add "copyright" to some of these rough productions).

 

Later that day, I was gathering papers for recycling and came across this small magazine from early spring.  What a joke!! – I should have just copied its eye-catching cover!!

 

Now, to come full circle, here's that famous intersection today, thanks to Google Streetview – a multi-storey tower replaces the old brewery, and the library branch and a grocery store occupy the ground level of the adjacent lower tower.

 

Somewhere down below, the old stream is still showing its stuff.  Thanks to water seepage, the lane between the towers was closed off for four months' maintenance last year – a deep hole was dug and new fill applied to the sealing layer.  Let's see how long that lasts!

 

Every season brings its new adventures.  Where will next year's summer camp take us?