Like Lions Waiting By The Waterhole

     Every morning lately, I find myself thinking about those lions laying around by the watering holes in Africa, waiting for the thirsty animals to come for a drink, so they can attack and eat them.  The reason I think about those lions, is because the first thing I have been doing lately  each morning, is walking out to our raspberry patch to pick some fresh raspberries to put on our cereal.

    As I slowly walk toward the raspberry patch, I know what will be waiting to devour me when I get there, not lions, but mosquitoes.

    After several years of having practically no mosquitoes, all of the rain and showers we experienced this year, have created a mosquito problem.  Their population is not as violently oppressive as it has been in during those really bad mosquito years, when I feared to even go outside, but they are certainly more noticeable this summer than they have been lately.  

    I can go out to work in the yard or garden, and not be overwhelmed by the pests, but if I go over to the raspberry patch, a thick cloud of the mosquitoes suddenly appear, waiting and ready to attack for their blood feast, just like those lions by the waterhole in Africa.

Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

McBride Peak's Halfway Lookout Cabin

     Halfway up the switchbacking road up McBride Peak, there is a small log hut that used to be the temporary home to the Fred(?) Koeneman, the lookout man.  When the forest fire danger was high, he would sleep in the cabin at night, then travel up to the alpine of McBride Peak to the Fire Lookout building, in order to spot any smoke from forest fires in the valley below or rising from the slopes on the sides of the Valley. 

    Anyway, starting in the 1980’s hang gliding became a popular pastime for adventurous people who would launch themselves off into the air from McBride Peak, in order to have the updrafts lift them high into the sky, to soar over the Valley.

    One year there was going to be a hang gliding competition in McBride.  The gliders would launch themselves off of McBride Peak and I think the point was to see who could stay aloft the longest.  I was working at the Forest Service at the time, and I was often given jobs that had nothing to do with my map-making position.  A few days before the hang gliding event, I was told to drive up to the Halfway and paint the rather rough-looking roof of the lookout man’s cabin, so it would look nice to all of the hang gliders who would be soaring above it.

    I enjoyed those unusual jobs that got me out of the office, and was happy to drive up the mountain with a paintbrush, ladder, and paint, to spend the day.

    I didn’t attend the hang gliding competition, but I later heard of a tragic accident that occurred during it.  One hang glider who was camped in the campground across the highway from McBride Peak, broke the rules, and instead of landing in Koeneman Park just below the slope, tried to land in the camp ground.

    On his descent, he hit a tree, fell to the ground, breaking his neck.  He was rushed to the hospital, but died.  A friend who was the X-ray technician at the hospital, told me the victim’s injuries were the worse she had experienced.

    I couldn’t find any of my photos of the Halfway Cabin.  The photo above is from Google Earth.  Below is the scenic view of the Valley from the Halfway Point of McBride Peak.

    

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You can see my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Well, Maybe I Won't Be Wearing The Gum Boots Today

     The building I constructed to be my shop, mostly turned out to be our warehouse, where we store all those old things we might need to use again someday.  One day, I was looking for my old “gum boots” (also known as rubber boots or Wellingtons), which I figured would be upstairs in the shop.

    I saw them, but was puzzled because there seemed to be a lot of bee activity around them.  When I went to get a closer look, I discovered the reason:  The bees had built their nest in one of the boots.  Their nest came up about halfway in the leg of the boot.  

    Seeing that, I made a quick decision not to wear the boots that day.  Luckily, I did have a newer pair that I could wear.

Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Always Working Toward Winter

     I kept myself busy day yesterday doing various jobs.  First I loaded my pickup with big heavy rounds of willows to take to the dump.  They were all too big, heavy, or knotted, making them near impossible for me to split for fire wood.  I wanted to get rid of them out of the way so I could get to the pile of pieces that I could split.  When I got to the dump, I realized that I could have put that job off, because the large wood bin at the dump was already full, so I had to bring the load back home, to sit in the truck until the bin is empty again.

    After that, I picked another load of peas and de-podded them for freezing.  We went to the grocery and bought a nice small box of BC blueberries and froze them.  Then in the afternoon I picked another small bucketful of raspberries, also for freezing.

    As I was picking the raspberries, I suddenly realized that most of the jobs I had done, were in preparation for winter.  Of course, Canada is often associated with long, cold, winters, and for those Canadians, like us, who live in a Canadian rural setting, a lot of our summer is used preparing ourselves for those future months of winter.  Summer is our busy time, and things really slow down and give us a lot of free time, once winter is upon us.

    

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

My Fifteen Minutes of Fame-- Blown

         Back in 1977, the Cosmos seemed to be unwinding in my favor.  At the time I was very interested in nature photography, especially close-ups of flowers and any other small natural thing that caught my interest.  One day, while walking along a beach on Vancouver Island a big toad jumped to get out of my way.  I had all my camera equipment with me, so I set it all up to try to get a photo of the amphibian.

        I had a 200mm lens, which I attached to a bellows that was then latched onto my camera body, which was set on a tripod.  I had a small hand-held flash that was plugged in to an extension cable, so I could hold it close to the toad, which by this time was huddled down in some foliage.

        I pressed down on my shutter cable and the flash flashed, and my camera clicked.  I thought I had gotten a good photo, but in those days you never knew until you had sent the slide film away.  I waited for two or three weeks for it to be developed, and when I got it back, I was able to actually look at the photo that I had taken.  I was very satisfied--it was a great shot.

        The following summer is when we were looking around for a house and property to buy.  We were, for sure, going to live in BC, and we sought properties in the mountains and landscapes of the Robson Valley,  around McBride.  We found a small hobby farm with a tiny house on 5 acres of land, and bought it.

         We weren’t able to move in for a couple of months and in the mean time, we had been reading issues of a new Canadian magazine called “Harrowsmith” that was all about gardening and rural living. At the time, “Back to the Land” sort of articles were all the vogue.

        In one edition, I noticed that Harrowsmith was going to sponsor its first annual photo contest.  The categories were very garden oriented.  One category was “Garden Friends and Foes”.  I wracked my brain trying to think if I had any photos that I could enter, and decided that my toad photo just might fit.  Toads eat a lot of insects, and even though the toad in my photo wasn’t in a garden, it was sitting amongst some yarrow which is a herb, so maybe the Harrowsmith people would think it was in the garden. 

        I sent the slide in, and forgot about it.  Then, during November of 1977 a big envelope from Harrowsmith, arrived in the mail.   Inside was a letter, and the latest copy of the Harrowsmith magazine.  The letter said, ‘Congratulations, you have won the Grand Prize- a Nikon Camera, in our First Annual Photo Contest”, it went on to say they had used my photo in the centerfold of their upcoming magazine.    I was so excited, I could hardly get my fingers coordinated enough to leaf through the magazine for a look.  

        Finally, getting to the middle of the magazine, I opened it and there spread across the two pages was a big blowup of my toad photo.  

        “Wow,” I thought, “I am famous!”    My ecstasy lasted only until I happen to look down at the caption below the photo, which read:  “Grand Price Winner- Bob Marchant, McBride, BC.” 

        “BOB MARCHANT?”

         My name is David.  There it was--my 15 minutes of fame--Blown.

Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Look At My Willows Now

     The other day when I was in town, our neighbor Karen came up to me and told me that she couldn’t believe just how our willows were growing, after being so brutally cut off ten feet above the ground, six months ago.  I know she, and all of our other neighbors had been concerned after they saw how they had been topped, leaving just the trunks of the trees.  

    I knew willows were amazingly resilient trees because we had had them topped once before and it didn’t take them long to grow back to their same pre-topping height.  All that said, I too was surprised at just how quickly their tops were re-growing.  In fact I will have to get out there and take off some of those new branches,  just so the trees don’t get so out of hand again.  

   

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

I Guess It Wasn't Kona Squeaking

     The other night when I was fast asleep, I was awakened by my wife telling me that Kona was “squeaking”.   Sometimes when Kona urgently needs our attention, instead of barking, she makes a short, very high pitched, squeak.   It generally means she needs to go outside.

    I got out of bed, put on my pants, synching up my belt tightly, so I wouldn’t hurt my back picking up Kona to take her outside.  I lifted her and took her out into the yard.  I shown the flashlight on her to see if she did anything.   She didn’t, so after a while, I carried her back into the house.

    It was when I was carry her back in that I heard the squeaking sound.  It was coming from inside the house.  It hadn’t been Kona squeaking, it was one of our smoke detectors, telling us that its batteries needed replacing.  I unhooked the smoke detectors from the ceiling and removed the old batteries, so that it would no longer make the squeaking throughout the rest of the night.   

    Of course, getting up, carrying Kona outside, and then taking down the smoke detectors, left me wide awake, so I read a bit in a novel, hoping that would eventually get me back in the mood for sleeping.  Next morning, I replaced the batteries and put the smoke detectors back in their place on the ceiling.

            

View my paintings at:   davidmarchant2.ca

An Opium Hit For Bees?

     I have a lot of poppies in my vegetable garden.  They come  up every year, and I never weed them out, because I enjoy all of the color they add.  

    Yesterday, I was out there picking peas and I couldn’t help but be aware of all of the bees that were busily buzzing around on the poppy flowers.  There was one particular poppy that was sporting numerous bees, seeking nectar.  There were five different bees who seemed frantically  busy on this one flower.  Since poppies are the source of opium , I wondered if this one particular flower were giving the bees an extra “buzz” from the drug.  The bees sure seemed especially attracted to it.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

A Visit To BC's Ancient Forest Provincial Park

     Ever since we moved to the Robson Valley, I have been attracted to its rapidly disappearing old cedar forests.  These old cedar forest are a rare ecological habitat, known as a Inland Temperate Rain Forest.  Happily one such area has been preserved and has become the Ancient Forest Provincial Park, which is located about an hours drive west of McBride.  It is a special place that love to experience and I got another chance to do so when my brother and his family up here for a visit.

    A sign beside one of those old cedars said that the tree was one thousand years old when Leif Erickson stumbled upon North America.

    While those gigantic, moss-covered cedars are the main attraction in the park, I have also loved seeing the plants that thrive in the dark, moist ground, beneath the ancient cedars.  Below are a couple of photos I took of those plants.  

    Immediately below is a fern tucked in between the roots of one giant trees.  Below that is a Skunk Cabbage, a broad-leaved plant that grows only in the wettest and darkest areas of the Ancient Forest.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

BC Summer's Triple Whammy

     We are currently experiencing three negative events that sometimes occur during in summer.  Unfortunately at present, they are all happening at the same time:   Our sky is filled with smoke from distant forest fires, we are experiencing unusually hot (for us) temperatures (32°C, 90°F), and our  mosquito population has exploded, making any leisurely pursuit outside, unpleasant.  The photos show what the sun looks like through the smoke-laden evening sky.

    Fortunately, there is a predicted end to our hot temperatures, as a cooler, more normal, showery front is scheduled to move in this weekend.  However there is no way of knowing how long the forest fire smoke and the irritating mosquitoes will remain.  

   The smoky summer skies are something that began occurring ten or so years ago.  It was our very wet and showery spring that gave us the mosquitoes, but at least that moisture lessened our chances of getting a forest fire locally.

    I no longer look forward to summer the way I optimistically used to do, in the past.

You can view my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Back To Blogging Again

     After a short hiatus in blogging, while hosting my brother and his family who were visiting us from Dallas, my wife, Kona, and I are getting back to our slow, mundane, lifestyle again.  We had an enjoyable visit and were able to catch up with what was happening in their lives.  While we had seen my brother last year when all of my siblings visited the Robson Valley, we hadn’t seen his wife or two sons for years.  In fact, the two boys were just kids last time we saw them, and now they are both in university.

    During their visit, we took them to a few of the unique local Robson Valley sites.  One evening we made the forty-five minute drive to the scenic Tete Jaune Lodge, to belly up and gorge ourselves at their tasty buffet, situated right beside the Fraser River.  This time, the dinner was an unique experience because there was a heavy downpour of rain and thunder storm going on.  

    We ate under the large protective tent roof, watching the flowing river as the lighting flashed and thunder rumbled.  It all made for a very memorable dining experience, but the wild weather didn’t prevent us from stuffing ourselves with the delicious food.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

No Blog For Five Days

     Whenever I don’t blog for a few days, people always send me emails asking if I am alright.  My brother’s family has just arrived up here for a visit, so I don’t think I will be able to do my blog for a while.  I thought I would just get out in front of my probable absence and warn you that the blogs won’t be be there for probably five days.

    You can take a short break too.

See my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

My Pollinator-Friendly Lawn

     I live in a rural area and I have never been a fan of mono-cultured lawns, so if I see patches of  wildflowers coming up in my lawn, I mow around them so they can bloom, providing nectar for the bees, and giving the pollenated plants a chance to reseed, so they come up again next year.  For all of those uniform, mono-cultured lawn purists, my lawn looks chaotic and unkept, but I would rather have a lawn that provides food for pollinators and have a wide diversity of plants, than have a monotonous, carpet-looking lawn around my house.

    Once the blooms start to brown, wither, die, and no longer provide nectar for the pollinators, I mow over them.   Yesterday as I was mowing I was going to mow over one of the flowered sections in my lawn, but then I saw some bees still working some of the flowers, so I mowed around the patch again.

    Although chaotic looking, I think my lawn is a lot more interesting to look at, than those mono-cultured ones.  My lawn offers a variety of shaped foliage, different hues of greens, plus a variety of colored flowers, and it makes me feel good whenever I see the bees out there buzzing around and getting the nectar they need to survive.

    Below are some photos of some of the patches of wildflowers that I mow around in my front yard.

    Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Robin Egg Blue

     For weeks now, I have been seeing a robin fly off from under the carport whenever I walk out of the carport door.  Robins have often build their nests up in the carport rafters, and again this year the are using the location.

    A few days ago as I was walking past the end of the carport, I noticed the end of a robin’s egg laying on the ground, so I assume that one of their eggs had successfully hatched. 

    Robin eggs are sure a memorable soft shade of blue.  

Take a look at my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Eternal by Lisa Scottoline

      I always gravitate toward reading historical fiction.  I have always been interested in the history of different cultures, and reading about characters living through those past events are a bonus.  I chose to read Eternal because it was set in Italy during the Fascist Regime of Mussolini, something I didn’t know a lot about.

    The novel follows the lives of three very close friends, beginning in their teenage years, all from different backgrounds.  Elizabetta lives with a liberal father, once a painter, now a helpless alcoholic.  The father is very anti-fascist in his political views.  Elizabwetta’s handsome and athletic friend Marco, lives with a family who runs a bar.  His father is very pro-fascist and supports Mussolini.  The third in the trio of friends is Sandro, son of Jewish parents, with a father who is a prominent lawyer and his mother who is a physician.  Surprisingly, even through they are Jewish, they also support Mussolini, at least they did until his actions against the Jews began.

    Marco and Sandro, although the closest of friends, are slowly falling  in love with Elizabetta. 

    As the story evolves, Elizabetta’s mother abandons the family, because of the alcoholic father.  Young Marco is given a job as a messenger for a high ranking Fascist army officer, and Sandro gets a scholarship to study under a prominent mathematician. Things gradually become more difficult and strained for Sandro and his family when Mussolini, under the influence of Hitler, starts restricting Jews.  This action resulted in both his father and mother losing their jobs, even though both worked in important fields to the government.

    Marco’s status rises working for the fascists as his boss’s position rises in the party.  However, Marco’s status becomes somewhat jeopardized when his older brother is caught in an antifascist underground group and is killed.

    Things become increasingly dire for Sandro and his parents as Mussolini falls more under Hitler’s influence.  Without employment, they lose their home and are forced to live in a tiny apartment.   Eventually, they are rounded up with the other Jews to be sent to a camp.

    The plot is full of twists and struggles as situations change as the forces of history fall upon the three friends, and the dynamics of their friendships changes.  

    I learned a lot of Italian history from the novel and the storyline kept me turning pages until the end.  

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Prunes

     Yesterday morning when I was preparing my breakfast, I looked down at my colorful bowl of fruit (I hadn’t yet added the rolled oats) and noticed the six prunes in the mix.  Seeing them reminded me of the initial start of my daily dose of prunes, something I have been indulging in for three decades.  

    I was sitting at my drawing table doing computer mapping at my BC Forest Service workstation,  as I listened to CBC radio as I worked.  On the radio they were discussing prunes; a fruity food that I hadn’t eaten for scores of years.  They mentioned the fact the prunes were one of the best sources of antioxidants one could find.  At the time I was beginning to hear a lot about the benefits antioxidants and hearing the discussion of prunes made me start to remember and crave their taste.

    When my lunch hour came around, I was still craving the a taste of prunes, so after I had eaten my lunch I walked down to the grocery store and bought myself a bag of prunes.

    I ate some of the prunes when I got back to my workstation, before getting back to making maps.  After a while, I had an urge for some more prunes, so indulged myself again.  I ate quite a lot.  

    About an hour later, I began to have disturbing loud and strong rumblings in my stomach, and began feeling nervous and unstable about eating so many prunes, remembering the bowel side effects they are most notably known for.   

    I don’t really remember if the prunes did produce that side effect on that particular day, but from then on, if I was eating prunes, I would always limit myself to just five or six of them.

    After learning of their generous antioxidant benefits on that day long ago, I did start the habit of adding five or six prunes to my breakfast, daily.  It is a practice I faithfully continue.  

You can see my paintings at:  davidmarchnt2.ca

One Rain Shower After Another

    The photo shows a couple of swallows darting around as darkening clouds obscure the Cariboo Mountains.   We have been experiencing a parade of rain showers for months now.  Many of the showers are quite heavy with rain.  The downpours have formed puddled in the bottom of the rows between of potatoes in the garden.  I have previously mentioned the flooding of my root cellar caused by all of the moisture in the ground.

    Showery weather used to be the norm for the Robson Valley during the spring and into July, and then generally we experience a switch into sunny, dry, and hot days in late July and August.  In the last handful of years there has been a disruption of that pattern and so I was happy to have it return, having experienced those years of drought and forest fire danger. 

    With the apparent building of a powerful El Nino in the Pacific and forecasts of hot and dry weather ahead for us, I am hoping the fire danger will not become too great for us.

    The rain storm hit with strong winds and a wet fury, then thirty minutes later, the storm had disappeared and we were back to sun, blue sky, and puffy white clouds, awaiting the next bout of showers to appear.

You can see my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

My First Forest Fire And Todd

          Because of the drizzly rain, the next morning, the crew stayed in camp while the crew bosses hiked back up to check on the fire.  I spent the morning sharpening the polaski's and axes. When the fire bosses returned to camp a couple of hours later, The fire was declared out, and arrangements were  made to start helicoptering the crew back home. 

        I was among the skeleton crew of six was to stay behind to keep an eye on the fire for one more day, just to make sure there were no flare ups.  We started to dismantle most of the camp which was packed up, and we piled all of the camp and fire fighting equipment near our heli-pad in preparation for its removal. The helicopter arrived mid-morning and began to ferry the crew out. The chopper could only carry 4 passengers at a time, but slowly the population of the camp shrank down to just a handful.   As the last of the exiting firefighters boarded, and the helicopter sat ready to take off, Grant came stomping over to where we were organizing the fire fighting equipment and asked, “Has anyone seen Todd?”

         We looked around and shook our heads, “No, why?” 

        “This is last helicopter for the crew, and he’s no where to be seen.” 

        We all dropped what we were doing, and spread out in the forest around the empty camp site looking for him.  A chorus of “Todd, Todd.” rang out throughout the trees, but no Todd was could be found.  Although concern was expressed about whether he might have had an accident, I suspect that most of us were secretly thinking that he was out there somewhere hiding. Eventually, the decision was made that those in the helicopter should be ferried out, and the helicopter finally departed without him. 

        We continued our search for Todd without success.  The helicopter returned for JJ and I. We loaded up and where dropped off in a gravel pit near where Highway 16 crosses Dome Creek. We had a few hours to wait before our ride back home to McBride arrived and we took advantage of the situation by taking a very cold skinny dip in Dome Creek. 

        I heard later that Todd eventually returned to camp, and the Forest Service had to send another helicopter, complete with a RCMP (Royal Canadian Mounted Police) officer, to make sure Todd was returned back to McBride. When the chopper landed and the the policeman stepped out, Todd took off running, but they were able to catch him and fly him back. 

       I don’t remember what legal troubles Todd’s behavior led too, but Todd amazingly, never held any grudge against me. He would occasionally drift into McBride every year or two, and whenever he spotted me, he would come over and talk to me like I was his best buddy. 

       A few years later, when I had become a full time employee of the Forest Service, several times Todd actually came into the Forest Service office looking for me. On one such visit, he came to ask me if I would be a reference for him and write a letter to a court in Alberta saying that “Todd carried MACE (an aerosol pepper spray) to keep bears away.” I told him I couldn’t do that because I honestly didn’t know if he ever carried MACE.  

        On another visit, Todd told me, “You know that fire I was on, that was the second time I have been busted with a helicopter.” 

        As I look back at my expectations of going to the Greg Fire, I was totally wrong about everything. The only flames I saw were when I was staring into the camp fire as we ate supper. The only axes I handled were the ones I sharpened while sitting in camp.  

Take a look at my paintings by going to:  davidmarchant2.ca

My First Forest Fire: More Todd

         Around 4:00, (that’s 16:00 Forest Service time), the fire crew returned to the camp. I asked a few of the guys what they did and they told me they just cleared a helicopter landing area and cut some trails in the area close to the fire, and did some mopping up, but the rain had pretty much put the fire out. I asked about Todd, and their expressions and then their words, told me that he didn’t do much of anything up on the fire. 

        Todd’s lack of motivation, changed tremendously, once dinner time rolled around. He was again first in line and he flopped 4 big pork chops down on his plate. This didn’t go unnoticed by the other fire fighters, who were having a difficult time keeping their resentment under control. We all settled down and again ate around the campfire, and ate as the night closed in around us. 

Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

My First Forest Fire Conintues: Hippie Todd

         Grant and the fire bosses had decided that because of the heavy rain and our late night yesterday, there was no rush to get to get the men to the fire. The crew straggled out of the tents looking for their coffee and breakfast and by 8:30 Grant had them assembled and told them they would be hiking up to the fire, which was upslope one half mile away.  

        It was at this point that Todd first became an issue with the Fire Bosses. They had discovered that he was still wearing his raggedy old running shoes, and when they told him he should put his boots on, he had told them that he didn’t have any boots. This created a dilemma, because of fire safety concerns, boots were a requirement and since we were in a remote area miles from anywhere, there really was no solution to the problem. 

        Grant lectured Todd about how he had been told to bring boots, and how irresponsible and dangerous it was to be out on a fire without them. Despite all of Grant’s earnest arguments, the words seemed to be sliding off of Todd, just like the rain sliding off of the boughs overhead. In the end, Todd left the camp with the rest of the crew, walking in a single file line into the wet forest and up the slope toward the fire. 

        Because of my official position as Timekeeper, I was told to stay in camp and help JJ with the camp work and food. The men had made sandwiches for themselves before they left, and so once we had the dishes washed and the camp tidied up, I recorded everybody's start time on my timekeeper forms and busied myself cutting a trail down to the creek, where we would be getting water. 

        Around 10:30 Todd, now rain soaked, came ambling back to camp. I asked him why he had returned and he said that they needed some chainsaws up at the fire, and they wanted someone to come down to camp to see if we had any. 

        Then, like I was his closest friend, Todd confided to me, “When they asked for a volunteer to walk back to camp to see if there were any chainsaws, I jumped at the chance, because I didn’t like doing all that work up there, but then as I started walking down here, I started thinking, ‘if there are chainsaws down at the camp, I will have to carry them back up to the fire’ and I started getting really worried.”

        I told Todd that luck was on his side, because there were no chainsaws in camp. 

        “Far out,” Todd replied, and walked over to the table under the tarp and grabbed a handful of cookies from a package. I resumed my hacking away at the underbrush clearing for the trail and after about 45 minutes, I noticed that Todd was still just hanging around the cook tent stuffing his face. I decided that since Todd didn’t seem to possess the motivation to scoot himself back up to the fire; that I had better “play the heavy,” and encourage him along. 

        “Todd, you’d better be getting back to the rest of the crew, and tell them we have no chainsaws down here.” 

        “It’s quite a hike all the way back there.”, he replied. 

        “I’m sure it is, I countered, “and that’s why we pay those big firefighter wages.” 

        I figured I had set things straight, so I turned back to my trail clearing.  Then a bit later, I noticed that Todd had not left for the fire and was messing around in his tent. 

        I am not one who likes to wield power, but since I had assumed the role of a Forest Service official, I felt obligated to enforce the rules, so I confronted Todd in the tent and tried, to the best off my ability, make things clear. 

        “Todd, if you don’t get back up to the fire, I am going to have to have to record you as not working, and you are not going to be paid for the time you are hanging around here.” 

    He came up with a few lame excuses about why he needed to stay around camp, but he did much to my relief, finally head back up the trail to the rest of the crew.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca