Environment: In Touch With the Earth
February-March 1996
This is an article from WaveLength Magazine, available in print in North America and globally on the web.
by David Suzuki
In mid-August, driving from the ferry dock at Quathiaski Cove to Heriot Bay on Quadra Island, we pass empty cars clumsily and erratically pulled off the road. Then we noticed people plunged to their elbows in thorny vines. The blackberries are ripe! Few things match the sensuous pleasure of a squirt of tangy, sweet juice and pulp from a ripe, sunwarmed fruit. Bushes studded with plump, glistening berries prove irresistible, and even though we are frantic to reach the cottage, we finally succumb, pull off the road and wade in.
After reaching our place and satisfying our need to canoe, swim and feast on clams and oysters, we visit our neighbours, Dan and Audrey Leclerc. Well into their 70s, they enthrall us with their knowledge of local lore and history. They have just gathered wild chanterelle mushrooms and traded them at the local store for peaches. Audrey has finished bottling the peaches and now is cooking apples to make jam. Audrey shows us salmon soaking in brown sugar and salt that will be smoked tomorrow.
Dan tells us, "We just got back from a trip on the boat. Got our limit in ling cod, but they're getting smaller and harder to find." Dan and Audrey fished for a living for many years and still consistently catch fish all through the Discovery Islands.
"We were skunked seven times this year," Dan tells us sadly. "Finally got lucky on this trip. We caught a nice 16 pound spring salmon and a coho." Then he adds a shocker: "But now I feel guilty. Chinook and coho are going extinct. We shouldn't be catching them at all. I've decided to stop fishing for salmon anymore. We should be paying more attention to herring. They've about disappeared and if there's no herring, there's no food." He knows more than any salmon management 'expert' and Dan's warning scares me. As we leave, we are offered a basket of blackberries Audrey and Dan picked along the road.
When I was a boy, the year was marked by specific signposts. One of the earliest was asparagus; when they appeared, I would roam along the railroad tracks gathering the delectable spears. Growing up in the farm country of Essex Country in southern Ontario, I have vivid memories of the delight when cherries ripened, followed by strawberries, raspberries, tomatoes, melons, and peaches. As each fruit or vegetable made its appearance, our kitchen filled with wonderful aromas of jams, preserves, or pickles. Today as foods mature through the seasons, I recapture that childhood expectation and excitement.
As a child, time seemed to creep along as I waited for some special treat like Hallowe'en, a birthday, or Christmas. But all that waiting and anticipation heightened the joy when the event finally did arrive. Patience has little virtue these days because there's no need to wait anymore. If we want something now, thanks to modern technology, we can often gratify that demand instantly. With the entire planet as a source of products marketed by major corporations, we can choose from a mindboggling assortment of consumer products. A radio commercial invites us to "choose from 10,000 products under a single roof."
Here on Quadra, freed from the demands of a telephone, television, and daily newspaper, I rearrange my city-formed priorities. It is a sheer delight to see an eagle snatch a fish right in front of us, watch a river otter running off with one of our oysters or snorkel among the squid laying eggs just off our dock.
My daughters invent a game of "shipwrecked", and we gather seaweed, limpets, and periwinkles to cook on the beach. The taste is exquisite. Play with the children and simple meals gathered from the shores and forest are so much more satisfying here than in the city. We are "slowed down" so there is time to enjoy the simplicity of the daily routine and rituals, and there is delight in the most elementary discoveries or acts.
But why do we only do this on holiday? In cities where most of us live, we are assaulted by noise, images, and pollution, so in order to function we have to clamp down on our senses and ignore much of the sensory input. Quadra shows how to open up to our surroundings more deeply.
If we learn to take time, open our senses, and pay attention to our surroundings, we find there are other rewards and we can live more lightly on the planet.
Geneticist David Suzuki is a writer, broadcaster, and leading analyst of social and environmental issues. His column appears regularly in WaveLength.
The David Suzuki Foundation, Suite 219, 2211 W. 4th Ave, Vancouver, BC V6K 4S2












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