Which Forest a poem from Christine Lowther

Which Forest?

 If my eyes are the colour of the sky, you said,

yours are the colour of the forest.

No one had ever said such a thing.

Which forest? I wondered.

The forest we stood up and lay down for?

The forest we went to court for?

The forest we were imprisoned for?

The forest that will maintain the current sea level

as long as we don’t log it –

the forest that will change with the climate,

shortening its name, dropping the rain,

cedar snags and tall spruce giving way

to arbutus, even garry oak?

By Christine Lowther:

Lilys Boat

We lucked out with some beautiful weather for a trip to the valley, late April, 20 degrees and no bugs. There is a new clearcut as you drive to the bridge after turning off from Glad Lake main its all getting closer and closer to the Falls and the 'Bite'. We started putting together a proper outhouse and had some time to hike and swim. Made these little boats with some kids from the driftwood in the river, a flake of Cedar, some twigs and a Salal leaf as a sail. They worked really well and we had quite a few sailing at one point. What makes the water there so green!