Ode to David Attenborough

I just wrote an op-ed for my Writing Popular Science class, and I want to know what you think. We have to submit it somewhere, so I was thinking of emailing it to The Tyee (see link on the right).

Bonding with nature through documentary television

The melodic voice of Sir David Attenborough, the knight of nature documentary narration, beckons from the TV:

“A hundred years ago there were one and half billion people on earth. Now over six billion crowd our fragile planet. But even so, there are still places barely touched by humanity. This series will take you to the last wildernesses and show you the planet and its wildlife as you have never seen it before.”

I was going to go for a walk, but Attenborough has convinced me that if I want to bond with nature, I had better have a seat on my couch.

Attenborough is introducing the series Planet Earth, the 11-part BBC nature documentary that has been running on CBC since 2006.

I’m not the only one who has been transfixed by the series, and it’s no wonder. The documentary, which, as its name suggests, captures the entire planet instead of focusing on one species or region, has been aired during the height of global warming anxiety. It is also the first of its kind to appear in high definition format; nature has never looked more natural.

An American Discovery Channel release of the documentary tried to reach beyond the BBC crowd by replacing Attenborough’s narration with the voice of actress Sigourney Weaver. It worked. Talk show hosts Ellen and Oprah both featured the documentary on their respective TV shows, urging their viewers to educate themselves about the state of the planet.

But is TV the best tool we have to learn about our natural surroundings?

f you live in a city where the only green space you see on a regular basis is a manicured municipal park or the blocks of grass that your neighbours may or may not maintain, the answer is yes.

Nature documentaries like Planet Earth are beneficial because they arouse biophilia, the human propensity to affiliate with other life forms. Biologist Edward O. Wilson uses the term to describe the connections that human beings subconsciously seek with the rest of life. In our increasingly urban landscape, we have to find the connections where we can, and in our media saturated culture, TV is an accessible option.

Besides, while I might see a seal or a pod of orcas from the beaches at Beacon Hill Park if I’m lucky, I’m certain I will never be in a position to witness snow leopards pursuing markhor goats in the Himalayas, let alone be able to watch crab-eating monkeys swimming from an underwater vantage point.

While the series may arouse biophilia, it doesn’t make explicit reference to the world’s environmental problems until the last episode. In the DVD cover notes, Attenborough says this was intentional.

“This new series is more a celebration of our planet, not a lament about the state of it,” he explains. “It shows what is still there. In some areas there is no doubt that we are doing damage to our world but, at the same time, there is a vast amount of uncharted and untouched wilderness.”

Attenborough’s sentiment explains why this nature documentary has been particularly effective. It doesn’t take the doomsday approach found in other global warming documentaries, such as Al Gore’s An Inconvenient Truth.

However, it’s hard not to feel the impact of global warming as you watch the Ice Worlds episode. In it, a male polar bear is unable to find footing on melting ice; he resorts to swimming, which he cannot do indefinitely. His desperate need to eat brings him to a colony of walrus, but he is already too tired to succeed in his attack. Wounded and unable to feed, Attenborough tells us the bear will not survive.

If you’ve had your fill of complacent biophilia after watching Planet Earth, but walking outdoors isn’t for you, watch the companion series Saving Planet Earth. It explores the work of global conservation charities. BBC launched the series in June 2007 with an episode presented by Attenborough. This time he examines the impact of humans on the planet, and once again his voice and his medium make the reality of global warming go down a little smoother.

Look what I started

A tea towel by Erin Coulter:

I like the colour scheme and the steam.

Prairie girl?

I'm from Saskatchewan, but you'd never know it; I grew up in a farming community, but I don't know a thing about farming. I was a town kid, see. And while I spent many a day running around my buddies' farms, I never absorbed the smallest detail of farming life. My dad knows a bit more than me, and he's had the opportunity to see what harvest time is really like during the last couple of weeks. It's September and he's not in the classroom for the first time in a billion years. Instead of twiddling his thumbs at home, he's been helping the Sanderson family with this year's harvest. I'm sure the forced meditation that occurs during long days on the combine is serving him well.

My mom has been tied to the city because she has a job, unlike some people, but she's been able to spend a night or two at the farm too; I think she looks right at home.

I wish I had taken an active interest in agriculture when I was growing up in Rosetown. I guess this desire is connected to the recent focus on trends like the 100 Mile Diet and the importance of knowing where your food comes from. I attended the Saanich Fair with Zoe and Dan a couple of weeks ago, and I was happy to see Vancouver Island kids engaging agriculture through 4-H. When I have children, I will definitely encourage them to take part in this type of club. They will learn about food supply, and I'll be able to cuddle their pet sheep.

Hona cultivates food and community

Michael and I recently attended Cultivate, a dinner party tradition established by Hona Watanabe. We know Hona through Sarah Hunt, who told us about the dinner last year, and we've been scheming about how to get invited ever since. When I received an invitation through Facebook, I knew I'd never question its usefulness again.

Hona is passionate about bringing people together to enjoy her recipe experiments with local, seasonal ingredients. People are happy to oblige.

This is what she served:

• Chickpea and buckwheat patties with miso gravy;
• Red cabbage, Japanese greens, white sprouts, burdokroot and green beans with sweet onion sesame dressing;
• Roasted BC potatoes and carrots with mint garlic butter sauce; and
• Macha sponge cake with blackberries, figs and whipped cream.

We were impressed with the food (see above), the hosts (Hona and her helpful buddies), the company (40 guests), the atmosphere (a beautiful Chinatown loft), the vision (100 mile diet, anyone?), the price ($5 plus tip), everything! I hope that Hona has the stamina to keep it up; I don't know many people who could pull off a dinner party for 40 people with such grace.

I heart camping, but why?

Michael and I went camping at Lake Cowichan last weekend. It was a short trip, but it was our most successful yet. Read: we didn't freeze during the night and we actually slept in. While we were smoking up our clothes by the fire, we mused about why people like camping at all. I guess it comes down to appreciating nature, fending for oneself and getting away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, but you have to admit that it's sort of strange to put so much effort into a certain amount of discomfort. Am I right?

Fending for oneself (by sharpening a roasting stick):


Getting away from the hustle and bustle (with a fancy rental car):


Appreciating nature (with a worn but irresistable vantage point):

Thank you for knocking me outta my head

There are too many things to write about San Francisco because that's how the city rolls. When I got home I told Facebook that I just got home from the moon, and I meant it. If you want to go on a holiday in North America but you don't want to feel like you're in North America, or anywhere else for that matter, go to San Francisco. Oh yeah. And go see my sister.

Because it's so overwhelming, I was happy to leave the city for a day for a bit of respite. Shannon and Chris have turned their second washroom into a veggie oil processing plant, so we drove to Santa Cruz fueled by veggie oil. Hooray for all of the good things that means! During the ride we listened to the soundtrack for the Lost Boys: a 1987 American horror film about young Californians who must fight a gang of teenage vampires. It was filmed in Santa Cruz, which was one of the city's attractions for me. The other attraction was this:

I've never been a big fan of amusement park rides, especially ones that spin, but I have taken a shine to wooden roller coasters. I like the one at the PNE in Vancouver and I like the Santa Cruz coaster, the Giant Dipper, even more. I think I was laughing the entire ride. Shannon was screaming. The coaster had extra significance because of the song Roller Coaster by the Sea by Jonathan Richman. I've posted the lyrics below, but because I know they won't have the desired effect on their own, I think you should try to listen to the actual song. It became the theme song for the weekend to Chris' dismay; Shannon and I listened to it one thousand times. It's how we roll.

Roller Coaster by the Sea

You see I went on the roller coaster last night when I was feeling bad
Down by the sea in Santa Cruz, and I was feeling sad
But we went down, and around, and it knocked me out of my head.

Well, I went on the coaster and my heart was heavy as lead
But we went down, and around, and it knocked me out of my head.
I say whoa-oh-oh, for it knocked me out of my head. Let's go...

Hey roller coaster by the sea, thank you for helping me
And roller coaster by the water, made me feel more as I oughtta
Well, you knocked me out of my head

See, I went on a roller coaster last night when I was feelin' bad
We were down by the sea in Santa Cruz, and I was sadder than sad
But we went down, and around, and it knocked me out of my head

Hey, when I went on the coaster, my heart was heavy as lead
But we went down, down, and around, and it knocked me out of my head.
Well, it knocked me out of my head.

The Santa Cruz trip took place on Friday. Saturday night was reserved for the Giraffes:

I was a bit nervous about the Giraffes when this picture was taken, but I warmed up to my costume as the evening wore on. Five of us dressed up as Giraffes in order to attend the animal masquerade at The Great American Music Hall. The costumes were part of a Burning Man theme camp last year, but they have taken on a life of their own. I found out why: being one of herd of Giraffes makes you famous. People want to talk to you, touch you, take your picture, invite you into their home for intimate moments (I was propositioned by a random woman on the street), welcome you to their wedding receptions, anything! All this from a Giraffe head made of foam and some yellow accessories.

The day after the Giraffes required some healing time. That's why Shannon and I went to the Kabuki Japanese communal baths on Sunday. I wish every person I know could go to these baths every week. The baths are for women three days of the week, men three and couples one (on the couples day you have to wear bathing suits). I love the ritual of moving from the showers to the steam room to the sauna to the cold pool to the hot pool. It's beautiful! The spa also provides lemon and cucumber water, tea, ice cold wash cloths, fancy soaps, salt for exfoliating and cucumber slices for your eyes. Seriously. It was a dream. Shannon said I should make tentative plans to open one in Victoria.

I could keep writing about San Francisco forever, like I said, but those were the main attractions. Also, I'm tired.