First off, stoked to hear that the BC Government has officially rejected the Northern Gateway Project. Knowing that the suits at Enbridge are currently sweating buckets is excellent news heading into the weekend. On a broader note, a lot has been happening in my life. Nearly all of it good. It also feels like it’s been a while since I had a date with the awe-inspiring WordPress blog interface, so in many ways I feel like I am discovering it anew. Thus, before I get into the main post, allow me to go over some things that are going on with me these days/ are somewhat relavent to past entries.
- Izzy is still alive. He appears to be very happy and is eating roughly a colony’s worth of dried mosquito larvae on a daily basis. The plants in his tank are not doing as hot. (Surprise, surprise.)
- I’m reading an interesting book called A Few Short Notes on Tropical Butterflies. It’s a collection of short stories (I don’t know if it actually falls under the category of ‘anthology’ though since the tales are all sort of connected in theme) and would highly recommend it. Especially to those who like to read en route to work but find that a 15-minute bus ride does not provide sufficient time or comfort to indulge in a novel with more than a few characters.
- The BBC One series Sherlock is amazing. I have just seen the first episode and the only criticism I have thus far is that it lacked fish. No doubt this will be remedied in episodes to come.
- Some of my FC colleagues recently evaluated the economic benefits of shark ecotourism and how these compares to the value of sharks killed for food and fins. Interesting read for anyone who likes sharks and/ or ideas on marine conservation. Check it out here.
- I am no longer single. This is undoubtedly the biggest news, although it probably comes as no surprise to anyone at the Fisheries Centre. Or anyone in general. I don’t really want to get too detailed with my personal life (amazingly, when it comes to anything beyond eHarmony, I am surprisingly shy and private with matters of the heart), although I assume I will ultimately get over this in the posts ahead. So for now, I’ll touch on it only briefly.
Yesterday I tried to give a little love back to the world.
The best cup of tea I ever had was served to me by a Berber man, in a cave, near Todgha Gorge in the High Atlas Mountains. While I was initially expecting sweet green tea infused with fresh mint (as is customary in Morocco), I watched as he instead prepared it using thyme. Truth be told, I’m not quite sure why I trusted this man as he enthusiastically ushered me inside a hole in the mountain (literally), but I felt no fear. And I know that for as long as I live, I will never make this beverage taste so delicious, nor appreciate it so much as I did inside that dark, confined little space. It goes without saying that someone who can make a pot of tea so good must possess some sort of old world alchemy, and there was something magical about this man; a nomad who lived life by the seasons, who travelled with his wife, son, and their donkeys from place to place throughout the region. The deep lines on his face were balanced by a sparkle in his eyes and a spring in his step, such that he might have been fifty years old, or eighty— I had no idea. And although our conversation was broken and contained mostly hand gestures, laughs, smiles, and pictures drawn in the dirt, I was reminded that day of how special something as simple as a pot of tea can be. He gave me the best he had, and for over an hour we enjoyed each other’s company. As I left, I went to offer him money (I honestly had nothing else to give him in return for his generosity), but he refused it. Perhaps sensing my concern, he simply took my hands and smiled, reassuring me that it was alright, and wishing me a safe and peaceful journey.
salt heart | wet coast 