How serious is the wildfire situation in Canada? Very. Yellowknife in the North West Territories with its 20,000 population is being evacuated as wildfires there are steadily approaching. Communities in Alberta and in British Columbia are on alert, and many have had to evacuate given the ongoing threat of combustively dry conditions in Canada's superb forests. Wildfires not close to human habitation are allowed to burn themselves out. Those where firefighters are dispatched pose a threat and are destined to be fought. Three wildfire-fighters have lost their lives to these conditions in the past month.

We see similar situations elsewhere in the world, from Hawaii to Greece, Spain, Portugal, Turkey, the United Kingdom and France. Our youngest son who lives in British Columbia does a lot of alpine backpacking for recreational enjoyment. He decided on an area off the Duffy Lake Road not far from the Stein Valley this week. On Tuesday when he set up his tent at the mountain summit he ascended to, he had a clear view in all directions. And all he could see was wildfires everywhere, charred landscapes.

It looked, he said, like an atomic bomb aftermath, the smoke rising in all directions. He stayed there until Thursday when he returned to Vancouver. He is intimately familiar with the geology. He is a biologist, after all, and what he's seen in the destruction of forests is exceptional, well beyond yearly wildfire events. 

For us, unusual weather consists of daily rain eruptions. Either through thunderstorms, a series of thunderstorms following directly on one another, or unannounced sudden downpours. This too is not 'normal' for us. All that rain, however, does limit the potential for wildfires, although Ontario and Quebec have had their share of wildfires and evacuations this summer.

We've been fortunate enough to manage getting out to our nearby ravined forest daily in between rain events with our two little dogs. There was afternoon rain yesterday, evening rain and rain through the night and morning rain, then out came the sun again. When we went out for our afternoon hike today the sun was out, the atmosphere was cool and windy. The forest, unlike yesterday, didn't appear particularly inundated.

I clambered over the rocks dumped years ago along the slopes of the banks of the forest creek to stop erosion of the Leda clay base. At my age of 86 I don't do that too often; too chancy for a slip and fall but I couldn't resist wanting to take close-up photos of the multitude of wildflowers growing along the creek bank; the Himalayan orchids, the tiny orange orchids of the Jewelweed plants, the feathery-pink flower wands of the purple loosestrife. I was careful and came to no harm. Jackie following me, had no problems maintaining his balance but it was I who wielded a camera.

Irving was busy almost the entire circuit we took, picking blackberries and ripe thimbleberries to dole out to Jackie and Jillie. For the occasional dog that came along, not knowing what to do with the plenitude of berries, Irving offered cookies and they were delighted to accept the offerings. When we reached the pollinating meadow, there were bees everywhere, busy on the ragweed, the pilotweed, the purple loosestrife and goldenrod.

Later, in the garden, I felt a little guilty about not having this week spent some time weeding and trimming. Because I'm normally so busy during the week, I usually leave that for Saturdays, but tomorrow we've been warned, will be an unusually rainy day and perhaps there'll be too few respites to allow garden work. Right now, an afternoon rain has stopped and the dark clouds that caused it are moving on, as the sun is returning. Unsettled is the least that can be said of this summer's weather conditions.

 

One of the cardinal things we appreciate about the Ottawa Valley. It is green, indisputably green. You cannot go very far without encountering forest. Ever since we moved here almost fifty years ago we've lived in green space. When we lived in Toronto, a trip to a park was never out of the question, Toronto has plenty of them, including High Park, its park-of-parks. In Ottawa we first lived within the city Greenbelt area in Blackburn Hamlet where the small city-within-a-city was designed with walking and green spaces running through the area.

 

Our second home here is located close to the first and it too is in walking distance of forest, more so in fact than the first. Green space is everywhere in this city, and the further away from the central core, the more immersed one is in green, although the urban forest within the city itself is treasured. The health of the air quality in Ottawa is unparalleled. And suddenly, for only the second time we can recall, when forest fires decades ago sent spiralling grey clouds of smoke into Ottawa, our air has once more become polluted.

 

This latest catastrophic round of forest fires throughout much of Canada has exposed millions of people to the affects of air pollution. Exposure threatens the health of the elderly, the young and the health-compromised. Health outcomes directly linked to fine particulate matter in the air like what we're experiencing, includes increased acute respiratory symptoms; chronic bronchitis; asthma; cardiac hospital admissions, emergency room visits; pediatric bronchitis and premature death, if that isn't enough.

 

Elderberry

We're just on the edge of the worst of the circulating air quality collapse. We've had a few days of bad quality, when Ottawa qualified as having the worst air pollution in the country for a number of days -- just off the scales -- to where it sits today, at 'fair'. We've had ongoing thunderstorm series whipping through the landscape for the past three or four days and more to come, along with high wind. The wind is what brings the wildfire haze and acridity to us, the rain is what diminishes its effect.

 

Irving went out soon after breakfast today to run a number of errors. After heavy overnight rain once again, it was sprinkling as he left. After I finished my household chores I took Jackie and Jillie out to the backyard and it was up to them whether to stay or to go back into the house; I kept the door ajar. I was busy doing some shrub trimming, pulling weeds, and decided because Irving had no opportunity to cut the grass, to haul out our push mower and mow the grass in the backyard. It didn't take long and I don't mind doing it.

 

Then I resumed filling up a compost bag with woody detritus and the snips of spent flowers. It's amazing how quickly those large compost/compostible bags fill up. All the while the sky was full of steel-grey clouds and it looked and felt like rain was imminent, but it held up. I decided to make preparations for a quick walk in the woods with Jackie and Jillie in the hope we could be in and out before the rain commenced. Just as we were preparing to leave, Irving returned home, and we all set off together.

 

Winterberry

The differences we see in the ambient vegetation in the ravine, particularly in the area around the creek and all the more so in the forest's pollinating meadow is astonishing from day to day. Rain has a lot to do with it, needless to say. The forest has been soaking it all up. The creek is fuller now and little rapids froth down the creek raceway taking wind-blasted detritus with it.

 

The Elderberry trees numerous in the forest understudy, challenging the primacy of the dogwood shrubs, are now in bloom. We saw Yarrow beginning to bloom for the first time this summer. Winterberry shrubs have already turned bright red; they waste no time at all. Even milkweed, more of them and more robust than we've ever seen them before, are blooming, though we've not yet seen any sign of Monarchs about.

 

We weren't the only ones challenging the weather and trusting we could make it through a shortened circuit without encountering a heavy downpour. Dedicated trail-walkers with their equally dedicated dog companions were out as well, alert to the tell-tale invitation expressed by Jillie's barking to guide them to where Irving happens to be anywhere along the trail system. They arrive, excited at the prospect of being treated to cookies, and when Irving pats them on the head and tells them 'that's all for now', off they go back to wherever it is they left their humans.

 

The series of thunderstorms that rumbled and rolled through our area yesterday inundated the landscape to the point where we felt saturation was at its peak. After about six of these thunderstorms bolted through, there was a period of calm and cessation of rain. And then the temperature plunged, cooling off notably to the extent where when only hours earlier the thick atmosphere of humidity exacerbating the ambient heated environment gave over to a sharp chill and we actually felt cold.

 

Looking out the bedroom window from bed this morning it was clear that wildfire haze remained a problem. Apart from the smoky haze, dark-streaked clouds were scuttling through the sky. A high wind prevailed, forceful enough to sway the crowns of trees in the distance from the forested ravine. The forecast warned of a repeat of yesterday when we'd risked going out for our hike through the forest earlier than usual with Jackie and Jillie, and were able to evade rain.

 

There were even tantalizing and brief episodes of sun breaking through what looked like an impenetrable shield of stormy clouds. So we did a repeat of yesterday, cleaning up from breakfast and setting off for the ravine. In some areas the forest floor was drenched but not overwhelmingly so, despite the overnight rain that had topped the series of thunderstorms the day before. The creek was turbid and tumbling with rainwater but not excessively so.

 

The takeaway from that is a forest so parched it had eagerly absorbed all the steady rain events some of which seemed overwhelmingly violent in intensity. Yesterday's air quality was in the poor range, although not quite that of Sunday's when it was right off the scale, the amount of fine particulate matter from Quebec and Northern Ontario's wildfires topping the scale of hazardous air quality. Today, by comparison it was considered 'fair'. The atmosphere was so polluted a number of downtown public events were cancelled, like the Ottawa Dragon Boat Festival, and the summer solstice Indigenous Festival.

 

Our tramp through the ravine was uneventful and pleasant, and we came across no one else out on this day. Perhaps unwilling the risk of the potential of being caught out in a violent thunderstorm, or just feeling the effects of the extreme humidity that made the temperature of 24C seem more like 30C. The always-dusky atmosphere of the forest interior emphasized colour, aided by the remaining glistening effect of the night's rainfall. Negotiating the up- and down-hill was in fact made more footsure since the surface dampness on the grit of the hillside trails made for good boot gripping.

 

When we later set off for our weekly supermarket shopping, the sky opened briefly as a black cloud that sprawled over the landscape hesitated before moving on, but no thunderstorms had manifested to that point. They waited, suspensefully, for later in the afternoon. The morning newspaper celebrated the fact that the inflation index had been reduced -- but not affecting food prices. And we had evidence of that in the continuation of rising food prices we saw while shopping. Not so evident in most fresh fruits and vegetables and eggs and milk products which is a good thing.

 

Later, a little bit of time spent in the garden made me wonder at how adept vegetation is at withstanding punishing conditions like the pounding it sustained with those repeated thunderstorms. The flowers and the garden pots look this side of ragged, but when the sun emerges, the wind subsides and the rain quiets down, they'll once again take on their lush beauty and fullness of form to warrant their conceit and our admiration.

 

Environment Canada gave us a weather heads-up yesterday advising that the temperature for Sunday would register 30C, and we'd smell the return of that acrid odour from wildfires in Ontario and Quebec, and to expect hazy conditions. They were right and they were wrong, but not in that order. The high for the day turned out to be a tolerable 25C with a nice cooling breeze, but the smoke-haze returned with a vengeance as did the smell of hovering acridity.

 

The air quality index which is usually 3 to 5 in our area during normal times, was at 22 today, with the warning of "health risk". Definitely a problem for people with compromised health, but even those who are healthy, warned the bulletin, could be susceptible to feeling ill effects from the compromised atmosphere. Recommendation that people remain indoors. If required to be outdoors, make it for as short a period as possible, and without physical exertion.

 

So the big question between us today has been 'should we, or shouldn't we'? Jackie and Jillie chimed in with 'why not'??!!! When they sensed the time approaching and when we usually prepare for our venture into the ravine for a hike through the forest trails, they became alert and expectant. 

Irving and I had plenty to do today. And so we puttered the hours away until afternoon. We'd taken our time at breakfast, going through those parts of yesterday's newspapers that we hadn't already read. We had oranges and bananas for breakfast, then breakfast sausages and waffles. I'd let the waffle iron get too hot, distracted and not noticing the control was set at 'high', not the 'medium' I usually use, so it was finicky business separating the batter from the irons, until it occurred to me that I wasn't paying attention.

 

When we finally decided we'd go out with the puppies, we were both a little taken aback at the deep level of the all-encompassing haze that confronted us on the street. Our times in the backyard earlier in the day hadn't prepared us for that. No haze was noticeable in the back, although the acrid odour was inescapable. The atmosphere was grey with haze, and the sun was doing its best to penetrate the haze, largely unsuccessfully.

 

But off we went, up our quiet street to speedily access the ravine entrance. And as soon as we descended the first hill into the ravine, the haze receded; barely noticeable in the forest. Until one looked up, past the tree canopy into the sky to get a glimpse of the sun now and again, behind the haze. It was throwing an orange light wherever it penetrated the tree canopy, that glanced oddly off the trail and tree trunks.

 

Still, at our level, everything looked fairly clear. And it felt perfect for striding through the trails; not too hot at all, the breeze making its way through the forest cooling us. The mosquitoes weren't abundant but for several places where they were their usual nuisance selves. Jackie and Jillie were content to be out, happily sniffing here and there, and looking out for the presence of any of their friends; as it happened, none.

 

Neither of us felt stricken even lightly by the smoke conditions and the diminished air quality. We've had other occasions when we were definitely deleteriously affected by poor air quality, finding it difficult to maintain energy levels to our usual condition, when we stayed over for several days in downtown Toronto. Torontonians-born-and-bred, it's changed mightily since our youth. 

Living in a less populous, green-park city like Ottawa has pampered our lungs with fine air quality. We can certainly empathize with the plight of people living much closer to the areas suffering through wildfires throughout much of Canada, at this time.

It's a strange feeling to know that your entire country is in the throes of an extraordinary wildfire burn in every province and territory but one. This year, this season, we're being told, will be known as one of the most severe yet for wildfires. People living in approximate proximity to fires burning out of control are informed that they should be prepared to leave their homes at scant notice.

Extremely dry conditions, high winds have made the situation what it is; the heat becomes combustible given the right conditions and that appears to be what is happening just about everywhere. A wildfire about 200 km from Ottawa, in Madawaska, is burning out of control. It, and other fires including those in west Quebec, have cast a virtual pall over the atmosphere. 

Light is refracted differently through the haze the fires have created. Dusk is earlier and darker, and dawn's early light has an orange-pinkish hue. Makes me think of our own urban forest. In years past we've seen teens trying to set fires in the ravine. We once had to call the fire department because a young man was trying to set a fire in dry conditions. Irving scrambled across the creek up a hill to confront the fellow, who had been drinking, ordering him to stop.

It took no time for fire crews to arrive and they put the fire out, while police took the young man into custody overnight. We heard later from one of our ravine-hiking friends, a young fireman himself, that the man had been distraught, his girlfriend had broken up with him. He had tried to make a little 'camp' for himself in the forest interior, where Irving confronted him.

Recalling that event, well over a decade ago, my mind churned a potential catastrophe, that someone succeeded in setting a fire and with the dry conditions, heat and wind now prevailing, it would take no time for the fire to wild itself, though fire crews would be alert and prepared to battle it. I can empathize with people being forced to leave their homes, their lives turned upside down. It's quite dreadful.

As for us, we're longing for rain. It would help. When we headed out to the ravine earlier today, the odour of burning wood engulfed us. Actually, it has permeated the house interior through open windows. Particulate matter from the smoke has joined pollen now circulating everywhere; it has piled up everywhere, crept into crevices, reminding us that both are the results of seasonal events.

While we were out in the forest thunder rumbled nearby, and it became even darker. The sound of the wind rushing through the forest canopy was dense and confusing. At some times it sounded like air traffic, at others like heavy rain pattering on the foliage. We were certain rain was forthcoming, but in fact the storm moved off elsewhere and we had no rain.

Which gave me ample reason to spend some time outside in the garden after we returned from our grocery shopping, to water the garden pots and urns. Jackie and Jillie are interested in poking about the front gardens,but they soon get bored and prefer being in the house, so they're relieved when we're finally ready to go back into the house. They're not given to being out-of-doors, other than when they're in the forest with us.

When we left them after our hike through the forest, to do the grocery shopping, it seemed even darker, the haze clearly more dense. A few light drops of rain fell, but nothing came of it. There's an almost eerie feeling about the quality of the light, the overwhelming presence of a penetrating odour that keeps reminding you that huge acreages of forest are burning. While we were at the supermarket I succumbed to the allure of small potted roses already in bloom and bought one with tiny yellow blooms. A comfort-purchase, if you will.  

Once we returned home and Irving agreed that tortilla wraps filled with black beans, vegetables and cheese would do fine for dinner, we took ourselves out to the garden. It has a calming effect. The sight of the flowering plants, the wide array of form and colour is pure enchantment. It might be true of us that we have developed a keen sense of aesthetic. From his very earliest years, Irving has always been curious about everything, and he has drawn me in to his spheres of interest over the years in a transmission of appreciative sharing.

Heaven knows, we've had enough years together to share interests, some of which we shared even before we knew one another. Both of us have always been nature-oriented, drawn to art, and avid readers. When we were in our early teens walking to a park or visiting a library was as important to our sense of natural values as attending a teen dance. 

Once before, many years ago, when wildfires were burning the forests in northern Ontario, the burning haze spread far and wide and the air quality where we live was certainly affected by the resulting smog. Today, from morning forward, the odour of burning wood hung on the atmosphere. Particulate matter from smoke rising from wildfires burning forests in northern Ontario and west Quebec has moved with the wind, polluting the atmosphere in a wide radius, including our region.

There's the lightest of grey haze, nowhere near what I can recall some 25 years ago, when the haze was well defined and medium-gray, hanging in the sky in clouds of drifting smoke. We've had hours of sun interspersed with cloudy skies throughout the day.

Because it's been a busy day for us, it was late by the time we prepared Jackie and Jillie for their afternoon hike through the forest trails. The walk through the trails was pleasant in and of itself, it always is. Other than the poor air quality outside the forest environs, making our way through the trails we imagined that the air quality was improved in the forest, given its capacity to absorb smog. There was the faintest appearance of a light grey haze even though the odour of burning wood was quite emphatic.

Each day the forest has something new and different to share with us. Today, we saw daisies in bloom for the first time as we approached the forest's pollinating meadow. There's also plenty of milkweed,though nothing yet in flower. The understory dogwood shrubs large and small are flaunting their flower panicles. 

 

British Columbia has declared a wildfire emergency, people informed they must expect to evacuate immediately they are requested to, when uncontrolled wildfires get too dangerously close to their towns. There are hundreds of wildfires burning across the province, a number of which are uncontrolled, despite the best efforts of wildfire-fighting crews.

In the midwestern U.S. drought conditions have made wildfires more ubiquitous and fiercer to fight for fire crews in 13 states. One, called the Bootleg Fire is the largest, burning over 1,372 square kilometres to date. Could we but share with these critical forest regions the copious rainfalls we've been given by nature this year, it would be of enormous assistance to them, but such is impossible. One geographic area is beset with wildfires, another spared.

From areas of China to those in Europe, it isn't wildfires that force the evacuation of residents, but flood conditions brought on by incessant heavy rains breaking dams and overrunning the banks of rivers, causing death and destruction. Everything in extremes; the usual balance of nature that we so treasure has gone off kilter. 

On the other hand, there are wildfires burning through forested acreage in Northern Ontario, too. Our forest is wet and lush with rampantly-growing vegetation. The night before last we had ample rain fall. When we awoke yesterday morning everything was dripping in the backyard. By the time, later in the day, that we made off into the ravine with Jackie and Jillie champing at the bit as it were, the morning's humidity seemed to have lifted somewhat and the temperature at 25C, seemed reasonable.

We had an enjoyable hour-and-a-half rambling through the ravine trails. In no great hurry, though we did look a trifle apprehensively from time to time at the sky. Then were relieved to note ample blue peeping through the forest canopy, and nor was it particularly dark in the forest interior. In fact, for a good part of our foray through the trails the sun shone warm and bright.

Roughly twenty minutes after our return home from our hike in the ravine, the house suddenly became dark. Looking out through the patio doors we saw a dark cloud looming over the west, steadily moving east, to our location. Faint rumbles in the distance assured us that a thunderstorm was headed our way. In no time at all, rain began; big, fat drops of rain whose tempo steadily increased as it became a deluge of heavy rain backgrounded by deep bass rolls of thunder. Soon, visibility was affected so we were unable to see beyond the immediate view of the backyard and the house itself was in darkness.

On came the lights, and they stayed on until evening when there was no intention to shut them off, with nightfall. One thunderstorm after another rampaged through the sky and with each came yet another heavy downpour. Endless rain. Non-stop sturm und drung. A tone poem by nature.

This morning the out-of-doors remained steeped deep in the remnants of the rain that had fallen. Rain steadily continuing to drip from all vegetation. Flowers battered down. But the sun was out and warming the atmosphere while drying everything that had drowned in the flood of rainwater. And when we got around early this afternoon to returning to the ravine for our forest hike through the trails with Jackie and Jillie, the creek in the ravine was roiling and pouring its excess down the runway and a slight odour of swamp gas wafted from the clay-disturbed bottom of the stream.

Whatever had been battened down by the rain was lifting itself under the drying influence of the sun. New flowers were opening to take the place of those that had been strangled by the rain; Himalayan orchids, Pilotweed, Queen Anne's lace, daisies and Black-eyed Susans and now jewelweed too can be seen on the near banks of the creek beginning to flower.

Berries are ripening. Irving picked scads of raspberries and thimbleberries for Jackie and Jillie. The thimbleberry shrubs are still putting out fresh new flowers, even though those that had flowered long since are now ripening red and sweet into delicious berries. What a world of difference between what we're experiencing and what people in Canada's and the U.S.'s western regions are experiencing...