Victoria, BC - Part 3

 21 June, 2026

Cattle Point, Upland Park

     Jan had things to do, so she dropped Miriam and me off at a small park/beach that connects to Cattle Point and Upland Park. We walked along the beach, with an American Crow (Corvus brachyrynchus)  keeping a watchful eye on us - or more likely to see if we had arrived bearing food.

     A Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) was absorbed in seeking food in a more conventional style. 

     I was always grateful that the beaches - at least the ones we saw - were not manicured beyond recognition, but were left in at least a semi-natural state with marooned logs and the natural flotsam that lends authenticity to the shore, and provides habitat for wildlife.

     We climbed up to cross over to Cattle Point.

     Those of you familiar with only a domestic Rose-of-Sharon (Hypericum calycinum) are doubtless very impressed with the exuberant wild flower.

     A male Song Sparrow (Melospiza melodia) threw its whole body into its ardent song.

     A Buttercup (genus Ranunculus) turned its smiling face to us.

     American Robin (Turdus migratorius) was as common in Victoria as it is back home in Ontario.

     A California Gull (Larus californicus), on the other hand, would be a real rarity on the Great Lakes.

     A House Finch (Haemorhous mexicanus) steadfastly refused to turn to face us.

     A Red-breasted Nuthatch (Sitta canadensis) did not assume its best pose, either.

     The enchanting Miriam, on the other hand, posed with this piece of modern sculpture.

     Broad-leaved Sweet Pea (Lathyrus latifolius) is almost as attractive!

     Mining Bees (genus Andrena) were hard at work.

     We found a bench overlooking a cove and sat for a while to be entertained by a Pigeon Guillemot (Cepphus columba).

     Over the years it has become emblematic of the west coast for me.

     The guillemot seemed unperturbed by this human interloper in its realm.

     Southern Vancouver Island is truly a window on the Salish Sea, a magical place.

          White Stonecrop (Sedum album) is very attractive.

     It is always a pleasure to encounter a member of the Leafcutter, Mortar and Resin Bees (genus Megachile).

     This fruiting plant was completely unfamiliar to me.

     I believe it is Osoberry (Oemleria cerasiformis).

     It's good to be constantly observant when enjoying nature. The most familiar objects, perhaps dismissed as being mundane, can display incredible beauty, as this Foxtail Barley (Hordeum jubatum) clearly demonstrates.

     I find this monument extraordinarily moving. It acknowledges that looking through the portal reveals "where longhouses stood and community gathered for thousands of years." 

     There seems to be an irony, however, that we erect monuments to celebrate the presence of Indigenous people in Canada, celebrating their knowledge, their wisdom, their experience and their values, their deep roots to their ancestral lands. In the meantime we have abducted and abused their children in residential schools, stripped away their identity and their language. We have seized their lands if they stood in the way of "progress." Their sacred forests are clear cut, the salmon streams that provide both food and a sense of identity are polluted from mining and resource extraction; dams cause rivers not to flow at all. Treaties and treaty rights are routinely ignored. Their very existence as a people is often threatened.

    But we are good at erecting monuments.

     We moved over to Upland Park, which is basically an extension of Cattle Point - or vice versa!

     A couple of Essex Skippers (Thymelicus lineola) were flitting from plant to plant.

     Spiny Leaf Gall Wasp (Diplolepis polita) vaguely reminds me of lychee fruit.

     Yorkshire Fog (Holcus lanatus) is a perennial flowering plant in the grass family Poaceae, and very attractive, I think.

     A Dark-eyed Junco (Junco hyemalis) greeted us in cheerful fashion.

     The Oregon Oaks (Quercus garryana) were absolutely magnificent.

     There was a sense of privilege just to be among them.

     The park is really quite beautiful and well maintained, permitting a synergistic arrangement whereby both natural space can thrive, and humans can participate without being intrusive and destructive.

     I don't think we ever got over our initial delight in the ubiquity of Spotted Towhees (Pipilo maculatus) with their loud, cheerful song.

     It quickly became a firm favourite.

     For an excellent account of Spotted Towhee and its sometimes tortuous history, you can do no better than read Rick Wright's well-researched account in Peterson's Sparrows of North America (2019).

     We took almost as much delight in Ocean Spray (Holodiscus discolor) as we did in the towhees!

     Chestnut-backed Chickadee (Poecile rufescens) replaced the familiar Black-capped Chickadee (P. atricapillus) we see at home, and could easily be identified by its antics alone.

     White Brodiaea (Triteleia hyacinthina) was a new species for us.

     I know you'll appreciate one more Spotted Towhee!

     It was a long walk home, but very enjoyable, passing through interesting neighbourhoods, and encountering Columbian Black-tailed Deer (Odocoileus hemionus columbianus) wandering in gardens as confidently as a pet dog. 

     They have made themselves at home in the suburbs.

     Chipping Sparrows (Spizella passerina) seem to have had a successful breeding season and we saw many young birds.

     They appear not to be subject to the intense cowbird nest parasitism we observe all too frequently at home.

     Our walk took us right along the shore of Oak Bay.

     Just before turning onto our street we spotted a couple of American Crows scouring the beach for food.

     The rumbling in our stomachs told us that we were ready for lunch too!

Book Review - Sacred Plants of the Americas - Princeton University Press

     The juxtaposition of science and indigenous knowledge has long been a subject of great interest to me, particularly as it concerns our relationship with nature in its many and varied guises. Not least among these is the supreme importance of plants  throughout The Americas and their connection to the spiritual lives of aboriginal people, whether influenced by a shaman or as an act of personal reverence. And this does not even touch on the intimate knowledge of the therapeutic and pharmacological qualities of sacred plants.

     Much of this knowledge, passed down from generation to generation,  has been under threat since the very first encounters between white explorers, conquistadors, capitalists and mercenaries; some indeed has been lost along with native land, languages and cultural identities. The authors are correct when they state, "Christianity and extraactivist economies have been operating together with devastating consequences for Indigenous peoples in the Americas for centuries."

     Fortunately, these attitudes are undergoing change, albeit slowly and piecemeal, but change nonetheless, with a recognition that Indigenous wisdom has much to offer, reviving and rehabilitating knowledge dismissed out-of-hand by colonial arrogance. My bookshelves contain works by Wade Davis (and through him a connection to perhaps the greatest ethnobotanist of all time, Richard Evans Schultes), Monica Gagliano, Stefano Mancuso, and the most eloquent of all, Robin Wall Kimmerer, whose Braiding Sweetgrass should be required reading for  everyone who cares about the planet. 

     This book is an incredibly valuable addition to the literature, with its dazzling images that leave me breathless. In addition to "simple" photographs of the plants, seemingly innocent of the powerhouse of stimulatory and medicinal compounds they contain, confocal microscopy is used to deliver images as psychedelic as the plants themselves!

     Briefly, confocal microscopy is an optical technique for increasing optical resolution and contrast of a micrograph by means of using a spatial pinhole to block out-of-focus light in image formation. Capturing multiple two-dimensional images at different depths in a sample enables the reconstruction of three-dimensional structures within an object. (Wikipedia).

     Surely the brightest stars in the galaxy could barely compete with the brilliant beauty of these images.

     I have turned the pages of this book many, many times, and still I am left in awe of this hitherto hidden beauty.

     This book would make a fine coffee table book, and should be displayed for all to see. But it is more than that. It contains a wealth of information on each of the more than fifty plants featured, in addition to cultural references, historical facts, the present state of the plant and its uses, and speculation as to what the future holds from ethnographic and curative perspectives. 

     I am indebted to Jill Pflugheber and Steven F. White for sharing their work with us, enabling us to benefit from their concern and compassion.

     You will not be displeased, I am sure, if I end this review on a personal note. My wife, Miriam, is an accomplished quilter with a great eye for symmetry, colour matching, design, creativity and all that goes into the completion of a work of art. Even though I am exposed to her formidable skills daily, I never cease to wonder how she does it. 

     When I showed her the confocal pictures in the book she immediately exclaimed, "Wouldn't that make wonderful fabric!" Indeed it would, and I can only imagine what she could do with it. But I can assure you that it would be great, inspired in no small part by a deep respect for Indigenous people everywhere; a heartfelt tribute to maligned humans for whom justice has been delayed far too long.

Sacred Plants of the Americas - Princeton University Press

Jill Pflugheber and Steven F. White

Hardcover - US$45.00 - ISBN: 9780691296074

264 pages - 10 x 11 inches (25 x 27.5 cm)

200+ colour illustrations - 48 maps

Publishing date: 11 August, 2026

Book Review - A is for Amoeba: The Story of Life in a Single Cell - Princeton University Press

 

     A is for Amoeba, but A is also for admiration, appreciation and applause. Who could imagine that a book about the allegedly lowly amoeba could be both educational and entertaining, fun to read yet packing a storehouse of knowledge.

     If there is such a person as an amoebaphile I have become one! And if I have coined a word, so much the better!

     Nicholas Money writes with his characteristic wry humour, while simultaneously conferring the benefit of his impressive credentials as a biologist of note. He even provides juicy bits about the array of deviant scientists who have contributed to amoeba research over the centuries. It is all done in a manner that makes the book a joy to read.

     I had not thought much about amoebas in many a year and I suspect that is true for you too. After all, who dwells on a microscopic blob, invisible without the aid of powerful optics, that doesn't even have a sex life and clones itself in perpetuity? 

     In fact amoebas influence our lives in more ways that we might imagine, having the largest genome of any organism. They have the potential for both great good and devastating harm in the treatment of human illnesses. Researchers are trying to replicate the beneficial actions of amoebas in the quest for cures to types of cancer that still resist all treatments so far devised. With AI and robotics in the ascendancy, artificial amoebas may hold the key to defeating intractable illnesses that cause great suffering to humans. 

     If the narrative of a microbe can grip the reader, this is the book to do it. I found it hugely satisfying.

A is for Amoeba: The Story of Life in a Single Cell - Princeton University Press

Nicholas P. Money

Hardcover - US$27.95 - ISBN: 9780691266985

240 pages - 5.5 x 8.5 inches (13.75 x 21.25cm)

10 black-and-white illustrations

Publication date: 11 August, 2026