Gordon Lightfoot: The Voice of Co-presence

Some voices resonate with you from the first moment you hear them. For example, I still have extremely clear and vivid memories of singing along to Gordon Lightfoot's "Ode to Big Blue" as a child.

However, to me, Lightfoot and his music represent more than simply happy memories from childhood. I think "Ode to Big Blue" touched a tuning fork that had already been developing in me, and in doing so, it left a reverberating effect that's lasted to the present day. Although the song is not one of his most well-known works, it shares with essential Lightfoot hits like "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzergerald,""Ghosts of Cape Horn," and "Canadian Railroad Trilogy" themes about human respect for and co-presence with the non-human parts of our environment. 

I would even argue that Lightfoot used his music to contemplate his place in the environment. Songs like "Triangle," "River of Light," "The House You Live In," and "Too Many Clues in This Room," while expanding out to address societal and existential questions, maintain a rooting in environmental elements. It's as if, like many artists, including William Wordsworth, Emily Brontë, Henry David Thoreau, Thomas Hardy, and Willa Cather, Lightfoot needed environmental elements to help him process and articulate his ideas. If that was the case, I can certainly relate, and it helps explain why his music spoke to me in such a powerful way.

It wasn't just that Lightfoot sang about the environment though. The way he sang about it also struck a chord with me (probably before I even fully understood why). As a child, I knew I liked "Ode to Big Blue" because it was about whales, which were among my most favorite animals. What I discovered later was that Lightfoot's music emphasized the connectedness and co-presence of humans and non-humans in the environment. In his songs, human action is inextricably tied to environmental causes and effects. If the "lifeblood" of the Canadian wilderness supplied the means for that country's economic development in "Canadian Railroad Trilogy," then the avaricious whaling depicted in "Ode to Big Blue" demonstrated the impacts that such economic development has on the environment in turn. The emphasis on these connections challenges the typical Western understanding of humans being separate from nature. 

Just as importantly, Lightfoot never sugarcoated the connection between the human and the non-human, producing a sense that while often beneficial to humans, the environment demands respect. The personification of Big Blue demonstrates Lightfoot's sense that a whale exists on equal standing with a person. Meanwhile, the power of the natural world and its ability to wipe away human life in an instant runs through "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald," "Triangle," and "Ghosts of Cape Horn," leaving a jarring lesson about taking the environment for granted. In some ways, this point of emphasis might reinforce the traditional Western understanding of nature as something to fear. Yet because Lightfoot also sings about co-presence and connection with the non-human, even the scarier non-human elements garner more respect than fear in his songs. If we are part of the larger environment, we must recognize the threats it can pose, but that doesn't mean we have to wage war on it as an adversary.

As it turned out, in my adulthood, my work as a scholar of environmental communication would explore many of the same themes Lightfoot's music did. I learned that he and I shared a worldview, and I gained an even greater appreciation for what he was saying in "Ode to Big Blue." In fact, an unmistakeable line of thought runs from the first time I heard that song to how I perceive and act within our environment today. 

Gordon Lightfoot died on May 1. I am very sad the world lost him, but I expect that his music and his voice will continue to influence the way we think about and interact with the non-human environment for a long time.

Goodbye, Gordon. Thank you for singing my song!

Right on the Edge

The right move can take us to the ends of the Earth.

Last Tuesday, as record-setting heat settled into the Pacific Northwest, my mom and I drove to Kalaloch on the coast of the Olympic Peninsula. The trip gave me a needed escape from the oppressive temperatures and smoky air.

Although we'd scheduled the outing before forecasts began predicting the extreme heat, I couldn't help thinking on the drive up the peninsula how nice the ocean air would feel instead of 95 degrees. With each mile, we left further behind the temperatures escalating inland. When we reached Kalaloch, which resides on the western boundary of Olympic National Park, the temperature stood in the 60s. On the beach, a fresh breeze blew light fog from the water, and the tide washed cool waves over our feet.

Driftwood on the beach at Kalaloch.

Walking near the surf, I found myself surrounded by shorebirds, including a semipalmated plover, which represented my very first sighting of that species. We left the beach for lunch, climbing the cliff at the edge of North America. When we reached the top, a group of people informed us that they saw gray whales just offshore. Putting off lunch, we stayed to watch the whales, which ventured inside the breakers, flipped on their sides, and occasionally spouted into the air. It had taken a long drive, but looking at the whales forage at the end of the world's greatest ocean, I knew I'd come to the right spot on what otherwise might have been an uncomfortably hot day.

After watching the whales, my mom and I enjoyed a wonderful lunch in the cool restaurant at the Kalaloch Lodge. Next, we explored the Kalaloch Creek Nature Trail. A little warmer than the beach, the forest through which the trail wound nevertheless provided abundant shade, and its quiet confines completed the satisfaction of escaping the less favorable conditions to the east.

As we returned home to find temperatures still in the 90s and smoke filtering in from wildfires in British Columbia, the lesson of the day shone clearly through the haze: Know what place is right for you, and go wherever that may be even if it's the very end of the line.

A Living Document

Three years after its public release, Blackfish continues adding chapters to its remarkable story, making it one of the most successful and important documentaries in history.

When I blogged about the film in July 2013, Blackfish was pretty much unknown, and it remained that way for months. Showings on CNN brought it widespread attention though, and since then, the film's impact has grown exponentially and unceasingly. The latest chapter in its run is that it can claim some responsibility for ending SeaWorld's orca breeding program.

That's right, two weeks ago, SeaWorld, whose stock has plummeted since the release of Blackfish, announced that it would stop breeding orcas. This means that the orcas currently at SeaWorld will be the last ones there.

After an unheralded beginning, Blackfish has done and continues to do amazing things. It took on a massive industry that almost no one questioned at the time; it brought into the animal-rights movement people who had never considered environmental activism; and it changed public and corporate policy. Animals continue to be used for entertainment, so the film's story is not yet over, and it will be exciting to see what future impacts it has.

Blackfish may not have made a big splash right out the gate, but its rippling influence remains alive and vital.

Big as a Whale

You cannot mistake the feeling of tide-turning moments.

The environmental movement tests patience, hope, and tenacity. We go long periods with little or no change in the system. While small victories have value, a lack of major changes can discourage. However, when something big happens, you know it and realize no other feeling tops it. This week, one of those events occurred.

In 1986, the International Whaling Commission declared a moratorium on commercial whaling. Despite the moratorium, Japan has continued whaling, claiming it does so for research purposes. Four years ago, Australia took Japan to court over its "scientific" whaling in Antarctic waters. The International Court of Justice ruled last Monday in favor of Australia, declaring that Japan's whaling was not scientific and violated international law.

The moment I heard the news, I knew it was one of those events that change the world in major ways. After years of stonewalling from Japan, the court decision pulled a key pillar from the system that keeps whaling alive. The Sea Shepherd Conservation Society, an organization that dedicates much of its time to ending whaling, also saw the significance of the ruling. Check out what Sea Shepherd had to say: 

The court ruling doesn't end all whaling. In fact, it only applies to Antarctic waters. However, its effects will reach around the world. According to this report from The Guardian, one Japanese online retailer that had been selling whale meat has already ended the practice. Clearly, the tide has turned in favor of the whales.

Environmental victories do happen, and there's no question this one's really, really big.

Save the Whales with an App

People have a strong response to whales in distress, and now, that response has gone digital.

According to this blog entry from the National Wildlife Federation, an app has been developed to let people in the southeastern United States report whales that need help. The app, called Dolphin & Whale 911, comes from the National Marine Fisheries Service.

Dolphin & Whale 911 allows people to contact a hotline that sends responders to help the whale. The app also provides a field guide to marine mammals and lists protocols for keeping distressed whales from further harm.

With this app, one of our strongest emotions meets one of our most powerful new technologies.

Black Mark

Our relationship with whales might change more rapidly than any other connection we have with our environment.

First, whales were food and fuel; then, they became symbols of environmental destruction; next, they were captive teachers and entertainers; and the relationship appears to be changing again.

Although captive whales that entertain audiences in places like SeaWorld undoubtedly inspired many individuals to learn about cetaceans (the family that includes whales and dolphins), the morality of this captor-captive relationship is being questioned. A new documentary called Blackfish looks at the impact we have on whales, specifically orcas, when we capture them for entertainment purposes. Watch the trailer below:



We now know that whales and dolphins have intelligence and levels of feeling similar to our own. Indeed, they keep teaching us things, and the latest lesson is that we need to reexamine our relationships with them (and other animals) once again. Our current approach is black with death and shame.

Whales ♥ NY

And the feeling is mutual.

Today's story provides some good news about improving conditions along the East Coast and the opportunities for people to benefit from a connection with the environment.

The story, which comes from the New York Daily News, reports on the growing number of whales returning to the waters off New York. As the story notes, it looks like this return coincides with improving water conditions offshore. Watch the video below.



I found a lot of things to like about this story. First, although the video doesn't list the different species of whales that are visiting the Big Apple, the species include blue and fin whales. These are two of my favorite animals, and the blue is the largest living animal while the fin is the second largest.

Above all, the story spotlights the importance of people's relationship with the environment. Human actions led to the drop in water quality in the first place, and changes in behavior helped improve it. However, I am most struck by Tom Paladino's reaction to the whales' return. Clearly, he is excited to be so close to the animals, and this offers a glimpse into the positive impact a firmly established connection with the environment can have. In addition, the fact that he has been able to operate a whale-watching business indicates that a lot of people in New York share his feelings and the need to connect more with nature.

If this is happening in our largest city, perhaps we can all find ways of improving and strengthening our relationship with the environment. In return, the environment might help us rediscover a lot of things we've forgotten to miss.