2024 Losses: One Third of the Jasper Townsite

    What was the biggest news event for you in 2024?  After reviewing the year, I decided for us it was the furious forest fire that swept through Jasper National Park, destroying one-third of the Jasper townsite.  Although Jasper is in Alberta, not BC, it’s fire still had a huge impact on the Robson valley.  Jasper is the closest town to the Village of McBride, only 100 miles away.  That may sound strange to people living in populated places, but while there are a couple sparsely located hamlets and Valemount  (another village 50 miles away) in between, Jasper is our closest “town”.  We have been there many times, and know people there.

    Not only is it our closest town, Jasper National Park is also one of Canada’s premier parks (or was?),  and it is an internationally known tourist destination.  Many of those tourists, when leaving or going to Jasper, pass through McBride, spending money on accommodations, fuel, groceries, and souvenirs.  The Jasper fire, which stopped their tourism, certainly had a huge negative effect on McBride’s economy.

    Many of the residents of Jasper who had to evacuate, ended up in McBride.  Our friends John and Di, who live in Jasper, spent weeks in McBride, not knowing if their townhouse survived the holocaust.  Fortunately it did, and they are back living in their crippled town.  

    Dr. Janet, our vet, who lives in Jasper, had her veterinary clinic destroyed in the fire, and as a result, she ended up having to close down the satellite clinic she ran in Valemount, that we always used.

    McBride, for the second year in a row, also had another forest fire, just seven miles east of the village, but fortunately it burned only trees, no homes or buildings.  Our summers have become scary, and what happened in Jasper have made them even scarier.

    A couple of weeks ago, my wife took the train to visit John and Di in Jasper.  Below is a photo she took from the train as it arrived in Jasper.  You can see the vehicles of the many workmen who are clearing and starting to rebuild Jasper.  The bare hills show just how the devastatingly powerful the Jasper fire was.

 

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

2024 Losses: Charlie Leake

     Back in the late 1970’s when we moved to McBride, we began to notice that once or twice a year a couple of fighter jets, flying very low, lower than the mountain peaks, would streak through the Valley, double back, then turn to proceed in the direction they were first going.  The roar of their engines, reverberating off the mountains, always left us wondering what was going on.

    We eventually learned that there was a guy, a retired Lt. Col. from the Royal Canadian Air Force, named Charlie Leake, who lived in the Valley, and whenever his old air force comrades were flying in  the area, they would affectionately make a detour to “buzz” Charlie’s house.

    We didn’t get to know Charlie until a couple of years later, when I began working at the BC Forest Service.  The Forest Service employed Charlie and his small plane during the summer to fly “Patrol” over the vast mountainous wilderness of our Forest District, looking for smoke that would indicate a forest fire.  My wife was hired to fly everyday with Charlie, over the mountain peaks, isolated river valleys, lakes, and glaciers, as the observer in the plane.

    Charlie and his wife Pat, some time ago left our winters behind, and moved down to Comox, BC on Vancouver Island.  The photo above was taken at Charlie’s Goodbye Party.  Comox has an Canadian Forces Air Base.  Charlie and Pat would periodically fly back to McBride for a visit on Charlie’s plane.  We had heard that Charlie, at the advanced age of 91, had just renewed his Pilot License for five more years.  Weeks later, he suddenly and unexpectedly died.

    Charlie had grown up in McBride, loved flying, and was always flying his plane around, and  organizing things at the McBride air field.  We would often run into Charlie when we would walk our dog down the tarmac of the airfield.  That field is now officially known as the Charlie Leake Field Aerodrome (photo below).  In the brief announcement in the Little McBride Paper, it referenced Charlie’s nickname, “Snarly”, which was certainly a misnomer, because to us that Charlie was always smiling, joking around, and friendly.

    Charlie Leake was one of those McBride characters that played a memorable part in our lives in the Robson Valley.  He is someone we will always remember.

        View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

2024 Losses: Karsten Hauer

     Toward the end of the year TCM (Turner Classic Movies) used to show a collection of clips of actors and movie personnel who had died that year while a melancholy melody played in the background.  I always found the tribute very touching.  Today I am remembering a dedicated environmentalist and friend who we lost on November of this year, and I wish I could play some melancholy song as I remember him.

    I don’t remember exactly when Karsten and his wife Leanne Allison moved to Robson Valley, they floated around in the area for a while, then bought a home in Dunster.  They were both very passionate and serious environmentalists who had made a name for themselves by completing a backpacking trek to publicize “Y to Y” (Yellowstone to Yukon) a proposal to preserve land along the wildlife corridor connecting the two locations.  Karsten, a wildlife biologist had written the book, “Walking the Big Wild” about their ordeals on the trip.  

    They lived in the Robson Valley a couple of years, but then when President Bush wanted to open up the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge to oil extraction, threatening the huge Porcupine Caribou Herd calving grounds, Karsten and Leanne mounted another backpacking trip to follow and document the herd as it migrated.  It was the first time anyone had done that and they experience horrific attacks of mosquitoes and multiple encounters with Grizzly Bears.  

    Once their trek was completed, Karsten wrote the book “Being Caribou” and Leanne, who filmed their trip won awards for her movie of the same name.  

    Her films can be viewed for free at https://vimeo.com/leanneallison

    The two also made other trips, documenting their adventures in book and film.

    The pair moved from the Robson Valley when Karsten was given the job as head of the project attempting to introduce a herd of Bison back into Banff National Park.  He headed the successful project for a decade or so.

    Last summer, Karsten went our bow hunting, and climbed a tree.  He fell from his high perch, landing  on his back onto the ground.  He was terribly injured, but at first, the medical opinion was that he would slowly recover.  However, unexpectedly his organs and body systems very slowly began to shut down, and there was nothing medically that could be done to prevent his body from complete deterioration and death.   After being told of his fate,  Karsten decided that when Fall came, he would have a medically assisted death.

    On November 5th, Karsten’s family and friends met one last time with Karsten in the shed where he had done his writing, to say their goodbyes, and be with Karsten when his a tragic and untimely end.  He was someone who had done so much to preserve Nature on a planet that certainly needs all the help it can get.  Karsten’s death was a great loss.

    You can read an article about Karsten’s Bison project at:

 https://thetyee.ca/News/2024/12/23/What-Buffalo-Know/

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Costa Rica 1992: The Caribbean Coast

      We hung around for half an hour at the bus shelter on the side of the highway, passing time by talking to two black women who spoke English.  The Caribbean Coast of Costa Rica is populated with a lot of Blacks who speak English.  It was always a relief after trying communicate using Spanish, to be able to converse in English again.

    We then boarded a very crowded local bus, with passengers already standing the full length of the aisle.  Fortunately, the number of passengers eventually thinned out enough for us to get seats.  At one stop, a young girl got on the bus with a little green parrot perched on her shoulder.  The bus trip was cheap, the fare was only 80 cents to get us the 50 kms to the city of Limon on the Caribbean.

    My wife felt as if she was getting sick with a sore throat and headache by the time we got to Limon.   Limon didn’t really look like a place we wanted to spend any time in, but we couldn’t find a bus going to Cahuita, a fishing town with two beaches and National Park, which was our next destination.  We needed to get there, since we had already made reservations to stay there for three nights.

    Mario a cab driver, noticed our frustration, and asked us if we wanted a ride to Cahuita, and so we paid him $30 US for the 42 km trip.  The road was pockmarked with potholes, so Mario spent a lot of time weaving from one side of the road to the other, to avoid the bumps.

    He dropped us off at the Cabinas Atlantida, our accommodation at Cahuita.  We got one of the cabins, nicely spaced among the trees.  It was quite nice, but we discovered it had one drawback; there was no place for us to eat, so we had to satisfy our hunger with a Coke and some caramels for supper.

    Because my wife was feeling rocky, she when right to bed.  I wasn’t that tired so I went outside to read under the porch light.  As I sat there on one of the porch chairs under the porch light, surrounded by the darkness of the forest, with my book in hand, I could hear the sounds of crickets and other night creatures.  After reading for a while, I glanced up from my book and noticed something tootling across the cement porch floor.  When I looked more closely, I discovered it was a scorpion, complete with outstretched claws and a curled up tail with a stinger on its tip—yet another new critter, I had never seen before, that I could add to the wildlife list.

Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Costa Rica 1992: A Snoozing Sloth

      Soon our jungle boat ride ended and the boat docked.  Everyone grabbed their bags and boarded the waiting bus for the final leg of our journey.  It was stifling hot and muggy as the bus traveled down the country road.  The bus driver stopped when he spotted a sloth off to the side of the road, snoozing at the base of a tree, about two feet off of the ground.   We were allowed to get out to take some photos.

    The bus was designated to take the passengers back to San Jose, but Joan and I didn’t ride the bus to the end, instead we got off at a place called Squirres, where we were going to catch another bus headed in another direction, to Limon, on Costa Rica’s Atlantic coast, our next destination.  When we gathered up our bags headed down the aisle to leave the bus, it was quite an emotional departure, with everyone in our group waving and wishing us farewell.

    We stood for half an hour at the bus shelter, passing time by talking to two black women who spoke English.  We then boarded a very crowded local bus, with passengers already standing the full length of the aisle.  Fortunately, the number of passengers eventually thinned out enough for us to get seats.  At one stop, a young girl got on the bus with a little green parrot perched on her shoulder.  The bus trip was cheap, the fare was only 80 cents to get us the 50 kms to the city of Limon on the Caribbean.

View my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Season Eatings

     Over the years I have done many  cartoons about overeating during the holidays.  Those cartoons were certainly based upon reality, because this time of year there are so many opportunities to eat delicious food.  We have been to two free community sponsored Christmas Feasts, one for seniors, and the other for everyone.  We also had great food and snacks at the gathering we had for friends on Christmas Eve.  

    The photo above shows just a part of the many desserts offered to us last night at the free Community Christmas dinner sponsored by the churches of McBride.   When I walked into the room with the desserts, I was gobsmacked at the amazingly wide variety of choices.  I sampled as many different options as I my conscience would allow.  

    Not only was all of the food wonderful, but it is always enjoyable to talk and catch up with people we haven’t seen for a while, and meet others we didn’t know.  One of the things I really like about living in a small community, are the many friendships that are formed with the people you see so often in the village.

    Below is a shot of part of the crowd at last night’s Christmas Dinner.

Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Keep Dreaming Bing, No White Christmas Here

     I know there are a lot of places that don’t have white Christmases, but it always seemed inconceivable to me that here, in the middle of the Canadian Rocky Mountains in the interior of British Columbia, we would be experiencing a Christmas without snow on the ground.  Unfortunately, with climate change, that is the situation for the second straight year in a row.  

    The temperature has been above freezing for days.  We have gotten rain, and the small covering of snow we had on the ground has slowly melted away.  This time of year there should be close to a foot (30 cm) of the white stuff on the ground.

    On Monday when we drove to Prince George, I were surprised at how much snow they had gotten.  All of the plowed parking areas had mountains of snow piled along their perimeter.  All of those times when they got snow, we got a lot of wind, or rain, instead.  I guess I should be happy to get any precipitation, even if it is just rain.  The Robson Valley is still experiencing a long drought, and every bit of moisture is welcome.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

PG Supply Run: $700 Worth of Groceries & a Muddy Car

     We periodically have to make the two and a half hour drive up to Prince George to restock our food supplies and to buy the those things we can’t find in McBride.  Because of the snowy and icy conditions, we try to avoid driving up there during the winter, but we were in need of a lot of foodstuffs.  The above freezing temperatures and very little snow, made yesterday a good day to make the drive.  

    While Highway 16 was basically clear of ice, it was wet and had been sanded in areas.  All of that water and sandy particles all sprayed up on our car as we drove, so when we got up to Prince George, our car was caked with mud.  The weather in “Prince” was sunny and clear, and it made city driving very difficult because to the incredibly blinding glare of the low sun off of the wet streets.  We were surprised at just how much snow was in Prince, unlike what we have gotten this year in McBride.

    We hadn’t realized just how crowded all of the stores would be with Christmas shoppers.  The large parking lots were overflowing with vehicles, so finding a parking spot was challenging.   All of the stores were over crowded with the crush of shoppers milling around.  We had never seen Costco so full and the cashier lineups so long.   We ended up paying a staggering $700 for all of the food we bought, some of which were Christmas treats, and a lot of which was for Kona and Lucifer.

    At A & W, where we ate our lunch, we had to wait  longer than ever to receive our food because of all of the other customers, and the scrambling, overworked, staff.  We did notice one lone diner  eating fries, who wasn’t bothered by the crowd (photo below).

    By the time we got back to our home in McBride, it was dark.  We unloaded the car, and as usual were once again faced with the problem of where we were going to put all of the food we had purchased.  We ended up putting a few items outside, because our fridge was full, and the outside temperature was just a as cold as the inside of the refrigerator.

      Hopefully, all of what we bought will keep us for a long time, so we won’t have to make another drive to Prince George for a while.

You can view my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Costa Rica 1992: Our River Cruise Out

         Our tour of Tortuguero National Park soon ended and we left the same way we had arrived via iver boat.

    Our last day at the lodge, a Sunday, started with the loud roars of Howler Monkeys, not far from our room.  It always seemed to me that Howler Monkey were misnamed, because the sound that they make , sounds more like the furious roars of a lion, rather than a howl.  We got up soon afterwards at 5:30, breakfast being at 6:00.  On the menu were watermelon and pineapple slices, scrambled eggs, toast, jam, and juice.

    We had done all of our packing before breakfast, so after we had eaten we just grabbed our bags and headed for the river boat in the rain.  There we sat for 20 minutes waiting for the stragglers to arrive.  Part of the delay was due to one of the “Italiano” insect collectors, who wanted to do some last minute collecting, and had gotten lost.

    Once everyone had arrived, our boat shoved off during the rain storm.  There was a lot of wind blowing the rain, and making everything inside of the boat’s passenger area wet, so the first part of our voyage was spent with the plastic flaps down, missing all of the jungle scenery we were passing through.  Fortunately, the sun eventually broke through, allowing us to stand at the bow with the binoculars.

    We saw a lot of turtles sunning themselves on logs, a big rusty-brown bird with some black and white accents and a pug-like beak.  There was a beautiful pink spoonbill bird sitting high on a branch who seemed quite huge.  As the sun did its warming, it began to get quite hot and humid, so we retreated to the seats in the shade, where we could do our observations more comfortably.  There were lots of egrets, both totally white, and gray and white, and some fancy cormorants standing among the weeds.  

    From a distance, we saw a monkey, dangling from a branch with one hand and one foot.  The boat surprised a squirrel monkey, which was the first of that species we had seen.

    Sadly, as we got closer to civilization, the scenery started to get rather depressing, as the boat traveled through long boring stretches of scrub pastureland and cattle.  I couldn’t help but be saddened viewing what used to be lush jungles.  I couldn’t make myself take photos of the pastures, so I will leave you with another one of the jungle.

View my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

The Winter Solstice: The Sun at its Lowest on the Horizon

     Today is the Winter Solstice, which in the Northern Hemisphere means that during the day, the sun’s arc is at its lowest position on the horizon.  At our house for a month or so we have only been able to see the sun through the trees, it never rises above them.  I am always happy when the Winter Solstice occurs because it means that not only will the length of the days gradually get longer, but also, the arc that the sun travels, will slowly get higher, and eventually the sun will shine over the top of the trees.

    While the Winter Solstice means longer days, officially it marks the beginning of winter, so most of the cold days are still in front of us, which in my mind, doesn’t jive with longer days and more sunlight.  I always overlook the fact that there is a lot of lag time between the Winter Solstice and when the warmer weather starts to happen.

You can see my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

A Lingering Fascination With An Old Gas Pump

    Back in the early 1970’s, my mother wanted to do a needlepoint of my grandparent’s farm where she grew up.  It was also the place where I spent a lot of my childhood playing.  I had no photos to go on so I sketched out things as I remembered them.  The farmhouse had been torn down decades before, but the other building were still standing.  

     Months ago, my cousin sent me a photo that she had taken of the needlepoint.  While I was looking it over, I noticed the red gas pump jutting up there on the right hand side.  It had also long disappeared, which made me wonder why it had been so important to me that I had included it in my sketch for my mom.

    During my early days, I did find the old gas pump fascinating.  Even then, it was an antique, probably manufactured in the 1920‘s, but in the 1950‘s and 60‘s, it still worked and was used to fill up the tractors, and the family car. 

    There was a large underground tank that stored the gas.  It would periodically be filled by a fuel truck when needed.  I remember my grandfather unscrewing the cap above the buried tank to lowering a stick down into the gas storage tank to measure how much gas was left in the tank.

    The old gas pump was an interesting relic.  It had a long removable lever on its side, which when moved back and forth, pumped gas from the underground tank, up into the glass container on the top of the pump.  Inside the glass container and in the middle was an upright ruler-like structure that allowed you read how many gallons of gas you had pumped.  When you reached the amount you wanted, you stopped pumping the lever and lowered the attached gas pump hose.  Gravity caused the gas in the glass container to flow down the hose, allowing you to fill up the vehicle.

    Below is a photo showing how my grandfather’s old gas pump looked.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

A Disappointing Christmas Present & The Stupidity of Childhood

     I think I must have been about six years old back in the 1950’s,  when Christmas approached and I was asked what it was I wanted for Christmas, I told them, “One of those big tin toy airplanes.”  (similar to the one in the photo.)   A friend of mine had one, and I was really hot to have one of my very own.  I could hardly what until Christmas day to find the model airliner under the tree.

    Thinking back, I wonder what it was I was going to do with it.  I guess maybe hold it at the end of my moving outstretched arms, while making the sound of an engine, as I soared it around.  Now, that plane sounds like it would be a very limited item of play, but at that time of my youth, that airplane was what I wanted.

    When Christmas day came, I quickly wiped the sleep from my eyes as I excitedly headed for the living room and the Christmas tree, to see the model airplane.  I hurriedly scanned the floor under the tree, and then scanned it again; where was the airplane?  It wasn’t there.  I was crushed, totally crushed.  

    My parents then wheeled out a shiny new bicycle out to the living room as my Christmas present.  “Why are they giving me that?”  I thought, I wanted an airplane.  I looked at the bicycle as something totally useless.  Bicycles were something totally off of my radar, none of my friends had bicycles.  It was hard to hide my disappointment.

    My despondency began to lessened bit by bit later during the day after calling some of my neighborhood friends, who excitedly told me they had also gotten bicycles for Christmas.

    It took a while for me to see what a wonderful and amazing thing a bicycle was.  My father helped me learn to ride it.  At first I had to wheel the 24 inch bike beside the front porch steps, so I could stand on the first step so I could get my leg over the bicycle to the pedal on the far side, but soon I learned to do a wobbly ride, then balance, and finally successfully maneuver the bike all over our front yard.  

    Riding that bicycle opened up a whole new neighborhood world to me and I was always on it.  It allowed me to get to my friends’ houses quickly, and really expanded the range of friends I could visit.  Soon my friends and I were biking to places we never dreamed we could go on our own.  I was on that bicycle just about every day.  

    Even now in my dotage, I still have a bicycle that I wheel out every summer to sometimes ride to town.  I am so thankful that my parents went against my wishes and gave me a bicycle for Christmas instead of a tin model airliner.

View my paintings at davidmarchant2.ca

Costa Rica 1992: A Night Excursion to see Sea Turtles

       Certainly one of the main reasons that we signed up for the group tour was the chance of seeing the sea turtles come to the beach at night to dig a hole and lay her eggs.  We were full of anticipation when the night to do that arrived.  The whole group gathered with high hopes at 8:00 to hike to the beach to see that happen.  The night was incredibly dark (really dark) for our walk through the bush to the beach.

    The tour group was divided into smaller groups according to language.  The English speaking group was too large, and for some reason, Joan and I were put in the Italian speaking group.  No lights allowed, and everyone had to wear dark clothing, so as not to spook the sea turtles. Because of the darkness of the night and so no one got lost, we had to walk single file, hold hands to the beach.  

    It was a long trek to through the jungle to the beach.  The length of walking on our night expedition, prompted one of the Italian girls to joke, “Pretty soon, we will be in Nicaragua.” We couldn’t understand anything our Spanish-speaking naturalist told us, but fortunately, the Italians could understand Spanish and translated the important commands to us.

    The beach was just as dark as the bush we walked through, but once there, we could hear the surf and just faintly make out the waves.  Our group trudged through the sand along the beach looking for a turtle.  We missed out on seeing a mother turtle laying her eggs, but we were able to make out a large  sea turtle crawling back to the surf in the blackness of the night after she had done the deed.  Her shell was about two feet across.  

    While initially we were disappointed at not seeing the turtle dig a hole in the sand and lay her eggs, our attitude soon changed and we began to consider ourselves lucky upon hearing that ours was the only group that even saw a sea turtle.  The other groups just stumbled back and forth along the beach in the dark, seeing nothing.

You can view my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Costa Rica 1992: Crocodiles and a Jesus Christ Lizard

      Lunch was chicken, chickpeas, rice and salad with a fruit cocktail of fresh passionfruit, pineapple, and watermelon.  They made a wonderfully tasty combination.

    In the afternoon, we decided to fork out $20each to take the optional tour to the Cano Palma Biological Station.  This meant another boat ride, down the Cano Palma River, but in a smaller, motorized canoe-like craft.  The trip turned out to be a highpoint when it came to seeing wildlife.  We traveled down a narrow river, enclosed on both sides with thick tropical jungle.  We spotted a Green Amazonian Kingfisher, and giant gray one, as well as herons, cormorants, and egrets.

    We also floated by several troops of monkeys.  One White-Faced monkey mother sported a baby hanging on her back.  At one point along the rive, the leader pulled us over close to the shore and proceeded to throw pieces of bread onto the water, it didn’t take long for a group of small crocodiles, (between one and two feet long) to suddenly appear to feast on the floating bread.

    Our boat scared a “Jesus Christ” lizard, named because of their ability to run across the surface of the water on their hind legs.   We watched it scramble on top of the river to shelter in the plants on the shore.  We felt very lucky to see it demonstrate its unique method of travel.  

        Our trip ended at the small Cano River Biological Station settlement where my wife bought some posters and I got myself a T-shirt.

    Back at the lodge, our evening meal consisted of spaghetti along with passionfruit slices with a crème filling.

        I couldn’t get my camera out fast enough to photograph a Jesus Christ Lizard, but I found the one below on of the internet.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

The Christmas Bird Count

    This time of year, birders in locations around North America are participating in the Christmas Bird Count.  In McBride, we have been doing it for decades.  Volunteers go out, or keep an eye on the bird feeders in their yards, then record the species of birds they see and their numbers.  The survey gives biologists an idea of the ebb, flow, and migration of bird populations on the continent.

    During the count, I am always hopeful of seeing some rarer bird that what is usual.  The usuals in my yard for the Christmas Bird Count Black Capped Chickadees. Red Breasted Nuthatches, Downy Woodpeckers, and Hairy Woodpeckers, which I report every winter.  This year there were some changes; I had no Hairy Woodpeckers, but did have a few new birds.  I saw a White Breasted Nuthatch, which usually don’t live around here, and a Northern Shrike (photo above) down by my pond.

    I have been noticing a pair of Shrikes during the last two summers, but this was the first time I have seen any in the winter. 

    A week ago, I did see a Brown Creeper, a relatively rare bird, that shows up once or twice a year, but unfortunately, never appears during the Christmas Bird Count.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Costa Rica 1992: A Muddy Hike Up "The Mountain"

      One of that first day’s activities included another boat ride, this time to take us to the “Mountain”.  It was a forested 100 meter high “bump” at the edge of a the beach.  The trail up the mountain was extremely muddy and slippery.  We had gotten tired of lugging our “gum boots” all the way to Costa Rica from the Robson Valley, but we were happy we had them on this hike. 

        My wife and I were among the last ones to make it up the slope, second only to the group of Italians, who also spent a lot of time taking photos.  Their interest was all of the various insects and spiders they saw along the way.

    The jungle on the mountain different from the other jungles we had visited.  We saw our first Howler Monkeys and another tiny orange poison dart frog.  There were beautiful tall trees with buttress roots covered with green lichen and vines.  

    During our boat ride back to the lodge, it began to rain.  my wife chose to sit outside in the rain during the trip, wearing the poncho and her hat.  We got back to our room just in time, because suddenly the clouds let loose with the heaviest rainfall I have ever witnessed.  I will never forget the huge gushes of water pouring off of the trunk of some of the palms in the yard.  The torrents of water cascading from the base of the trees looked like the forced flow from a large fire hose with out a nozzle.  

Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca