Pull of the tides

For years I've had a tradition of trying to see the magical light cast on our front door by the Solstice dawn shining through a little stained glass window. This year, both mornings I tried (even the morning that wasn't officially Solstice), I missed it -- or it was too cloudy for the bright light to do its trick.

Even though I don't quite understand how the 'bulging ocean' phenomenon works, I am a longtime observer of the tides, especially the big ones that we see in summertime (or are those simply because we go down to the beach more when the weather's nice?).

The image above, a bit crooked though it is (apologies, I never make adjustments to the photos I post) gives you an idea of just how far out the tide goes when summer begins. It looks as though you might walk halfway to Vancouver Island. All of this is complicated by the pull of the moon, even though the last full moon was June 17th, days before Solstice.

I'm not the only one who likes knowing when the moon is full. This week I read that Neil Young, one of my favourite songwriter/musicians only makes recordings three days before the full moon. Apparently, he believes that's when his creativity is at its peak. Something more to watch for before the next time it's full.

Like I said, I don't really understand it all, but enjoy paying attention to the interaction between sea and sky. Always something to see, always something to wonder at.

Ubiquitous

That's a word we often hear. Ubiquitous. It's everywhere.

I know. It's a lot more than plastic straws that are ruining the oceans.

Everywhere I look I see plastic. My toothbrush, the phone, this computer I am typing on. Bread comes in plastic bags, so do cherries, tortillas, potatoes...

My feeble efforts to collect and recycle my plastic bags seem almost stupid, they are so insignificant. What eensy difference can taking my little bundle of bags to the recycling centre mean?

Would it really make any difference if everyone bothered to do this? Somehow, it's hard for me to believe it would.

Still, I am sure that I will carry on, trying to avoid plastic when I can -- whether a straw or a shopping bag. And when I gather a bunch of them, I will take them to the place where I believe (trust may be the more accurate word) someone takes them away to a place where they get converted into fleece jackets or maybe just more plastic bags.

If nothing else, I suppose it will at least help me feel a little better. If only it would make the ocean feel better.

What's wrong with this picture?

Earlier this year we treated ourselves to a quick holiday (too short, but that's another story) in Cuba. I spent a lot of time strolling along the beach. Initially, my beachwalks were of the standard variety, keeping an eye out for shells or pretty rocks. But it didn't take long for me to decide there were far too many rainbow straws littering the beach.

Because one of my daily practices is picking up a piece of litter, it was easy to bend and pick up the first pink plastic straw that greeted me. But I soon found these littered straws were in abundance. And these were just the ones still on the beach. How many others had made their way out to sea?

In a place where plenty of drinks are being served, practically 24//7, I understand that hygiene is important -- thus, straws are inserted into just about every glass (even the plastic 'glasses') the bartenders hand out. I suppose the colourful straws also present some aesthetic appeal, and no doubt are cheaper than tiny umbrellas would be.

But, the abundance of these plastic straws along the shoreline got me worried about how much ocean contamination they were causing.

The pipe coral in my photo was washed up on shore, yes. And I'll admit to inserting some of the straws I'd picked up into the hollow tubes. I hope the juxtaposition of the natural and the man-made helps make a point -- a point I first heard about from an action in Tofino called 'Straws Suck.'

Plastic doesn't break down well, not even in the sea. Where tourism in Tofino is all about nature and the ocean, folks there take their stewardship seriously. The Straws Suck campaign is simple: avoid straws if you can, but if you need to use straws, use paper ones instead. Something to think about next time you're sucking up a drink.

It sounds like officials for the City of White Rock have fallen off the deep end and into a pool of something that's making them talk funny. They sound as though they're spouting April Fool's Day pranks.

It's a plan to 'improve' the waterfront, to the tune of 30 million dollars. From blockades down there already, it looks as though they're serious about carrying out a plan that I can only look at and call insane.

Half of that 30 million would go towards dredging the seabed to 'reclaim' 6,500 square metres of land from the sea. That's 1.6 something acres, or a little bigger than the area of a CFL field.

Creating a new park sounds civic-minded, I suppose, but at a cost of $15 million for that 'reclaimed' land?

And how would such a plan affect the sealife offshore? After all, the bay still contains crabs, fish, and even the occasional visiting whale. And really, haven't these officials heard about rising sea levels?

I suspect all of this has less to do with improving life for the citizens of White Rock than with setting the stage for a pricey marina that will complement the all-too-likely casino on land that was once called Semiahmoo Park.

Today is World Oceans Day, a day when we should be thinking of ways to clean up the waters, to look after our oceanfront, not destroy it.