The weather this week has been incredible. From our frozen camp-side lake and snowstorms, it quickly transitioned to some of the warmest planting days I’ve experienced. Though its effects were not made known to me immediately, the sun took its toll on my body. By the time I reached my tent that night I felt dizzy and began seeing double. This followed me into the last day of the shift and was relieved by a cold lake and water.
A theme I would like to explore this season is the effect on mental health that planting fosters; both negative and positive. It is not a subject that is often discussed however when one spends hours alone with nothing but your thoughts, you come to know things about yourself you may otherwise not have known, let alone wanted to know. While I find myself being a great orator in a grand conversation in my head, my thoughts meander from money to love to heartbreak, food and home. If I have ever left home with a problem, 2 months of grueling work has solved it. I transport myself to an environment that is so incredibly difficult and different that it must shock my brain into reorginizing itself. I cannot imagine what kind of person I would be without having become a part-time tree planter.
Two glorious days off in a row. Food becomes our priority; snacks, pizza, ice cream; warm showers our oasis and the grocery store as our Mecca. You learn to love your tent and sleeping bag in a way that most people could never love a bed. Likewise you learn to love grocery stores, fast food, motel showers and dive bars in a way that those in your normal life could never understand.
You’ll have to excuse any delay in updating my blog this planting season. Long shifts and spotty internet are making it difficult. However, I have a backlog and will push them out whenever possible. This year has brought many changes and will result in some interesting projects in the year ahead. Apart from shooting film all season, I am also recording hours of audio in the hopes of putting together a pseudo-radio documentary. As for changes, all the foreman save one are rookies(and planting friends from my crew years past) and our supervisor is my foreman from last year and planting friend Dani. Our camp has two supervisors looking after two separate groups of people.
Two supervisors with two separate philosophies and views has made life interesting in camp. While it does not affect us very much, it has made me realize the disconnect between the decision makers and those actually planting. The smallest choice of say a day off or dinner schedule can impact our moral and work in great ways.
The second day of our 5 day shift was cold. My piece(“block” is the clear cut we are planting and “piece” is the divided section each planter gets) was up a long hill and the very top left me alone in such a serene environment. I found myself in front of a snow covered road beside a forest of spruce. The view behind me was that of a lake and an endless valley. I kept thinking about my old babysitter who used to take my brother and I to the arboretum in St Anne De Bellevue. In the winter we would walk and feed the birds from our hands.
The downfall to working in a valley or amongst mountains is that the weather can take drastic turns for the worse. The upside is that from our vantage point, we can view the weather systems approaching and know to prepare for a storm. One day saw 3 storms move in; anything from light hail, to a short blizzard. When we returned to camp, a new system brought a huge blizzard that left our tents covered in snow.
Day 3 of our second shift started with heavy snowfall in the morning. When we got to our block, the snow made it impossible to plant. So we made a giant fire on the logging road and hung out till it melted at 10am. Apart from the morning, it was a terrible and hard day. I yelled a few times and threw my shovel in order to vent throughout. I always appreciate leaving the relative warmth of a Montreal spring for the Canadian north. Our campsite faces a beautiful lake and for our first week it was frozen over with a thin layer of ice. Snow still lines most of the logging roads we drive through.