Red Rose Country
As humans begin encroaching upon owl habitat near Fort McMurray, an unexpected phenomenon coincidentally halts the habitat destruction.
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They say owls are some of the smartest birds in the planet, able to give sage advice or guide their watchers from imminent danger. Hunters in the night, their large eyes miss nothing that happens around them, always on the alert for danger or their next meal. But a new menace has come to face the owls; the threat of human settlements being built over demolished forests that used to be home for the nocturnal birds. Sprawling roads connected hundreds of new houses and townhomes in Fort McMurray, where oil sands development has literally created the
fast-growing city over the past few short years. Yet, watching all this development were a hundred pairs of eyes, observing the foreign invaders in their territory.
As Reuben took his coffee to the table, the rest of the guys were talking, waiting for the shift to start at the oil rigs, open pit mines and at the in-situ well stations. Only a thirty-minute drive from the coffee shop to most worksites, the guys spent the last of the early morning sun talking of fishing and hunting in the vast Alberta wilderness.
“It’s a bit nerve racking in the woods. You never know when a bear might show up. Not to mention you always get a feeling like something is watching you, behind your back.”
“No animal can get past my seven-millimeter rifle. That gun has saved my life countless times. Good enough to even take down a moose.” Scratching his balding head, Ben put his toque back on and headed out with the rest of the guys as they started their work just like any Monday morning.
As Reuben drove to the worksite, he surveyed the large tailings pond which was made as a byproduct of extracting the bitumen, a crude resource which would then be refined into oil. Large sound-emitting machines were installed all along the perimeter to keep birds and fowl away from the toxic murky water.
Walking to his office, he sorted out a pile of field notes, looking over them as the head director of environmental protection and land reclamation in the company. They had studied all the natural fauna and flora to make sure the restored land would look exactly as it was before the bitumen was extracted. It was important to focus on the finest of details, from what types of insects to be food for the animals, to what types of water plants grew in the water bodies. This is not even considering the job of removing all invasive species that had found their way into the pristine Alberta environment. Invaders like the Zebra mussel had already reached some lakes in northwestern Saskatchewan and were dangerously close to the water bodies around Fort McMurray.
“Diane, have you received the remediation presentation from Stephen yet? I need that PowerPoint to share about all the work we’re doing to the public.”
“Sorry sir, there’s a note that says he’ll be done in a few days.”
“Not good enough, tell him to send me what he has and I’ll finish the bloody thing myself. We planned to educate the public on our diligence in bitumen extraction and it won’t be delayed by some lazy office worker.”
Overhearing the last comment, all the heads in cubicles ducked low, so as to avoid the notice of their angry boss; pretending the best they could to seem busy.
As Stephen nervously handed the USB to his boss, he scurried back to his workspace, hoping not to get into any more trouble that he was already in.
Opening the file, Reuben started working on the half-finished presentation, adding photos of wildlife and crystal-clear lakes that were typical of the Alberta wilderness. Selecting a large photo of a common Great Horned owl, he used it as the opening title slide, featuring the majestic bird flying high in the air to symbolize their company’s sky-high goals when it came to the triple bottom line. Although he had no say in what the company does to help people or profit, the whole branch of the company dedicated to helping the planet was bestowed upon him like a heavy burden that keeps growing every day.
The company had been given some negative press after several protestors were caught trespassing on the bitumen extraction area after landing their boats, having come from the Athabasca River. Some were calling the security guards too heavy-handed, while others called out the company to be more transparent with their research and data collection. One protestor that spoke to the media passionately relayed his concerns for the wildlife: “This industry is detrimental to the well-being of all our wildlife, and even to humanity ourselves! Global warming will only get worse if we continue to invest in fossil fuels like the tar sands industry.”
Rubbing his temple to relieve the stress of keeping the delicate balance between assuring society they were being responsible environmentally and assuring financiers that they were being responsible economically. Putting in information about the carbon sequestration plans for the future in his presentation, he hoped that it would help ease the pressure that was being put on fossil fuel industries like their own to cut carbon emissions. After the failed attempted to start a
cap-and-trade program in Ontario, he knew that burying the carbon was a cheaper alternative than pricing carbon and imposing the cost on industry, whether that be from a tax or from trading permits to pollute. Picking an image of a sophisticated looking mechanical tree that automatically sucks carbon out of the sky and deposits it into the ground, he hoped that futuristic ideas like these would gain the support of society so that they would entrust them to responsibly continue to extract fossil fuels. While innovative and exciting, he knew though that there would be push-back that these futuristic trees and ideas were years ahead of their time, and that they were only a utopian idea that might take decades to invent, manufacture and deploy to make an effect on carbon dioxide emissions.
Uploading the presentation onto their company’s website as well as on their social media pages, Reuben crossed his fingers and hoped that fidelity of their company’s environmental plan would shine through.
Looking through his updated log of sites that would need to be reclaimed and or remediated, he realized there was a lot of work to be done if his superiors were to be pleased. The challenge with restoring the land to its previous natural state is that it takes time; time to grow the trees or to establish the food chain along with a multitude of other requirements. Toxic sludge would need to be filtered out or naturally settled before any living plant or animal could survive, never mind be healthy.
Putting on his thick rubber boots in order to survey the new sites open to restoration, Reuben and his team used several testing vials to check the water, and collected some soil samples to measure the amount of bitumen still in them. Looking over the area, it seemed devoid of life, with poisonous pools of water filled with heavy metals and petroleum residues. Having seen the site himself, he initiated the first phase of cleanup, which included filtering out the metals, soaking up excess oil and depositing a thick layer of gravel to bury the contaminated soil. Over time, runoff and erosion from the rain should cleanse the top layers of any pollutants, but the presence of bitumen in the ground is permitted as it was naturally occurring in the tar sands even before humans started excavating and extracting the raw, unprocessed resource. To completely remove the bitumen would be literally impossible, given the vastness and extent of the company’s tar sands sites.
As truck after truck dumped their heavy loads into large gigantic piles, workers in bulldozers pushed the gravel evenly to inundate the entire site with the fast-draining, porous small stones. When the entire area was overlain, an equally thick layer of mulch and soil was spread across the site, in preparation of introducing shrubs, trees and animal life back into the remediated space. After several weeks, and many hours of dedicated work later, the site began to resemble a
sub-arctic boreal forest again, a biome typically found in the area known as the Canadian Shield. Young Lodgepole pine seedlings were expertly planted, with enough space between them to grow unhampered and be able to reach a full mature size.
At the Fort McMurray animal shelter, Jennifer was taking care of an injured Barn owl that had found it’s way to Northeastern Alberta, most likely due to exotic pet traders. Bandaging up its wing, the gigantic bird had to be held down to keep him from knocking her over as she treated the rest of his injuries. Gently putting the owl into a large cage, she gave it some water and raw meat to see if it was settled enough to eat and drink. Watching the bird, he just kept staring back at his rescuer, occasionally swiveling its head while keeping his eyes locked onto her. Backing off to give him some space, Jennifer filled out the paperwork detailing where and when the owl was found.
“Yeah George, someone saw it on the side of the road limping from that wing injury it had. He’s way out of his habitat; the closest being in the Metro Vancouver area.”
“Jenn, when its wing heals up, I’ll try and find someone to take it down south back to its range. I can’t imagine it doing too well here in Horn owl country.”
As the veterinarians left for the night, the Barn owl hooted as loud as it could, crying for help. After several hours, finally a reply came back, sounding like it came from another species of owl. Excited to hear a reply at least, the Barn owl continued its cries as if pleading to the other owls to save him.
Several weeks later, Jennifer removed the bandages holding the owl’s wing and placed it in a cage to be transported south later that afternoon. Saying her goodbyes to her owl-friend, George carried the cage to the pickup parked nearby.
Suddenly a flock of Great Horned and Barred owls descended upon George, who immediately dropped the cage and ran back inside with Jennifer. As the cage fell, the door opened and the accidentally released Barn owl flew off with the rest of his brethren.
“Did you see that Jenn? There must have been dozens of them, Horns and Barreds. In all my years I’ve never seen anything like that!”
Picking up the broken cage, Jennifer wondered just how smart owls really were, being able to coordinate an attack as a group. “You’d think they were working together to save that Barn owl?”
“Maybe…Maybe not. I’m sure this isn’t that movie where birds become killer monsters attacking humans. Should we try and track down the Barn so we can escort him back south?”
“If the other owls here are willing to risk coming out in daylight to save him, I think we’d be hard-pressed to recapture him again.”
Back at the oil company’s field station, Reuben was holding a press conference about a recent oil spill near the Athabasca River.
“Folks, I know you’re all worried, but I can reassure you that only a couple hundred barrels of oil was leaked out, and most of it has been soaked up by booms on the river. The risk to wildlife is minimal and we are working together with the Ministry of Environment to study the aftereffects of the spill.”
“Sir, can you tell us what caused the spill in the first place?”
“We are still investigating and it would be premature to say anything at this moment.”
“Are there any talks of compensation to First Nations groups downstream of the river?”
“Again, we are working closely together with all affected parties to make sure this oil spill doesn’t adversely affect anyone downriver. That’s all the questions I’ll be taking, thank you.”
Walking away amidst a frenzy of flashing cameras, Reuben left the media room and headed straight to his office, falling tiredly into his chair. “Diane, could you get me a hot mocha please? Thanks.” Sorting through the media articles online, the news of the oil spill had spread like wildfire and dozens of environmental and First Nations groups had banded together to fight the oil companies including his own. Many were starting to question the subsidizing of fossil fuel companies as well as the disproportionately large injection of foreign investments into the industry as a whole.
Opening up the live view cameras overlooking the restoration site they were working on, Reuben was pleased to see some water fowl and sparrows returning to the area, which a couple weeks ago was barren sand and tar. They were careful to pick vegetation species that were native to the boreal sub-arctic biome, hoping to attract animals and birds that would naturally exist in the area. Looking at his watch, he buzzed his secretary again, asking if she had his mocha yet.
“Sorry sir, looks like Stephen is cleaning up a mess at the coffee machine. I’ll have it ready in a few minutes sir.”
“Stephen, eh? Why am I not surprised; just let him know to be careful next time.”
Preoccupying himself with checking emails, he failed to notice some movement in his live camera, and several bushes seemed to move across the screen heading towards one of the in-situ wells. It wasn’t until five minutes later when an alarm sounded, signaling one of the wells was malfunctioning.
“Code silver, code silver. I repeat, code silver, code silver.”
Watching from his window, he could see security units approaching the well, which seemed to have some sort of green banner hanging on it. Soon police vehicles joined in the commotion, taking the three trespassers into custody.
As the mid-summer heat began to dry out the entire area, Reuben made sure to give an adequate amount of water to keep his reclamation sites thriving and to ensure none of the newly planted trees and shrubs would die. Looking beyond his green oasis, he noticed much of the evergreen trees in the surrounded woodland was turning orange, with many of the older or diseased trees dying in the sweltering heat.
Heading back home after a grueling work day, he entered his newly built home to see his wife of two years cooking while watching the news at the same time.
“Oh, hi honey, did you see the weather forecast? We’re going to hit the thirty degrees Celsius by tomorrow!”
Giving his wife a peck on the cheek, he agreed with her on how shocking the severe weather would be. “It’s not good for my remediation sites though, those new trees need tons of water to stay alive. The Athabasca’s at a very low level as well.”
“Sally’s upstairs doing her homework, do you want to call her down for dinner? It’ll be ready in about fifteen.”
“On it!” Taking large steps, skipping one stair at a time, he gently knocked on his
nine-year-old daughter’s door and went in when she responded. “Hi sweetie, how was your school day?”
“So-so. The gym teacher made us play soccer on the field outside and it was so hot!”
“You working on a project there? Is it an eagle?”
Lifting up her drawing so her dad could see better, she corrected his misconception with a shake of her head. “Dad! It’s an owl, not an eagle.”
“Oops, now that you mentioned that, it does look like an owl. My apologies! Mom says dinner will be ready soon, so come down in a few minutes, okay?”
Busily colouring in her picture, Sally gave a thumbs up to acknowledge her dad’s message.
Changing from his suit to a more casual attire, Reuben sported a muscle shirt without any muscles to show for it, but in the hot weather, a minimal amount of clothing was a welcome choice.
Setting down several sirloin steaks along with broccolini florets cooked in butter, Reuben’s wife served her family as usual before helping herself to the meal. Pouring some onion gravy over their steaks, they all quietly cut it into bitesize pieces and ate the tender meat that was a perfect medium-rare. The onion gravy had black peppercorn, meat drippings and was thick enough to coat the steak without running down the sides like water.
“So Julia, you should see Sally’s owl picture. It’s pretty impressive if I should say so myself.”
“Dad! You thought it was an eagle…”
“Ha ha, so I did, so I did. But nonetheless, an impressive aviary specimen.”
“You mean bird?”
“Bird is such a boring categorical indicator. Avium is the correct term in Latin. In your case though, the Barn owl is known as the Tyto alba.”
“Maybe my teacher will give me bonus marks for using that name. Tyto alba.”
As the family cleared the dishes to be washed in the basin, they didn’t notice the glow of red, encroaching towards their home and silently signaling an immanent disaster.
In a grove of forest bordering Fort McMurray, an array of owls from all species stood watch as they observed the march of the flames heading closer and closer to the invasive human settlements. Barred, Great Horned, and even Snowy owls joined the rest of their brethren all waiting for their cause to be avenged. Many a nest and roost had been demolished for building homes and the owls had been forced to retreat to the surrounding woodlands. Now was the night that the humans would be pushed back, allowing nature to reclaim the land for itself.
As sirens began blasting across the city and firetrucks blared their red and yellow lights, people were being rudely awoken to evacuate the city as fast as they could. Some, still in pajamas carried what they could to their cars as the fire crept closer and closer. Jumping over roads and threatening the core of the city as well, people rushed to flee on the highway, but were stuck in a long line of cars as more than eighty-thousand residents tried to escape. Firefighters from across the town fought the blaze, but it was a losing battle and many homes were already consumed by the unrelenting fire. Retreating to protecting only the critical structures such as the school, water treatment plant and international airport, most of the homes couldn’t be saved despite the valiant effort by the firefighters.
As Reuben hurriedly packed as much as he could, they decided to drive both cars to the oil sands working camps, figuring it was safer there away from the burning buildings. While Julia drove the SUV with Sally and the bulk of their possessions they could pack, Reuben took the pickup truck and led the way with Julia following him. Finding that the roads to the work camps were fairly clear, they hoped it was the right decision as the bulk of residents in Fort McMurray headed south, lining up in a long trail of cars waiting to escape the fiery inferno.
Thinking back to all the keepsakes they could not carry with them, Julia instantly regretted forgetting to get her wedding photos and the family’s photo album with Sally’s baby pictures. While they had their passports, they had to leave behind their desktop computers, most of their clothes and even their grand piano.
Arriving at the work camp, Reuben immediately ushered his family into the company building, unlocking the door to the office where they could stay for the time being. As he made several trips from the vehicles to their new lodging for now, several other vehicles began to pull up, with some employees that Reuben recognized as low-level staffers and field technicians. Giving his staff a quick hug, he directed them to the office building as well, where they could stay together while the fires raged on through their city. Turning on the satellite television, which was still working since the camp runs on generators, everyone was shocked at what had become of their beloved city. Nearly every house was burned to the ground, smoldering and raising small plumes of whiteish smoke. It seemed like Fort McMurray was a charred ruin, devoid of any life like some foreign planet. The unrelenting fire was like a plague of locusts, devouring everything in its path with an insatiable appetite, leaving nothing left for those behind. Here and there, remnants of their once prosperous city could be seen lying amidst the burnt rubble. A charred stainless-steel sink; the burnt-out frame of a vehicle; the brick masonry of a fireplace, miraculously still standing.
Everyone at the office was stunned, and even the news broadcasters seemed to be just as shocked as they were, sometimes unable to find words to describe the situation.
Phoning the authorities to inform them of the growing group of people taking refuge in the work camp, he only did what everyone else in the room could do; wait to return home. Watching the news, it seemed their worst nightmares was indeed real and that decades of growth and expansion had been reduced to ruin over the course of just a few short hours.
The fire department of Wood Buffalo has stated they have successfully evacuated more than eighty thousand residents from Fort McMurray and the surrounding towns, and the Premier has announced a state of emergency. Specialists and tactical units are heading to be deployed in Fort McMurray to help firefighters battle the blaze. Some residents had left with nothing else but the clothes on their backs. It is just becoming clear, how devastating this disaster truly is, potentially the costliest natural disaster in Canadian history.
Entering the office where Julia and Sally were resting, Reuben gently woke his wife, giving her a hot cup of water as he tried explaining what they should do the next few days.
“I spoke with the authorities and it seems they are going to send in the military to help evacuate everyone stuck at the work camps and bring them to safe areas to the south. If you or Sally get hungry, just let me know and I’ll try and find something to eat.”
Taking his laptop from the office, he spent the next few hours searching through videos and news broadcasts to see if his house was still standing or if it was destroyed. Unable to attain closure to the question, he rubbed his temples and slammed the laptop shut with a roar of frustration. The home he had saved up for; the home he had built to be their forever home was most likely now a pile of ash; gone up in flames. Not knowing if he should cry, shout or let his anger enrage him, he simply fell to his knees, sobbing at the blow the fire had dealt to himself and his family.
As the fire marched onward, the remains of Fort McMurray became like a ghost town and as if surveying the job that the fire had done, a Great Horned owl perched on a chimney stack, swiveling its head in a full circle. While their forest home was burned just as severely as the human buildings, the owls knew that their forest would regrow, almost overnight, and will continue to provide food and shelter for them and their offspring. However, the expansion of settlements into the forest had been temporarily stalled, as the city worked on rebuilding all that was lost.
Receiving news a week later that people could start returning to what was left of their homes, the wait was finally over and Reuben and his family emotionally stood where their newly built house would have been, not even a week ago. Vowing to rebuild their city, many Fort McMurray residents started clearing the rubble and reframing their new homes in a show of resilience and solidarity. Though they had been knocked down, lost everything they owned and came home to nothing, the people were determined and would rebuild to become even more stronger than before. Lessons were learned and people would be more prepared to handle catastrophic events like wildfires the next time around, having been through the worst of it. Reuben and Julia dug through the rubble hoping to find some of their family treasures and keep-sakes, which were unreplaceable, and to them, priceless. Finding their fire resistant safe, they opened it up and were relieved to find most of their important documents had survived the flames. Pulling out Sally’s birth certificate and their marriage certificate, they even recovered Julia’s engagement ring among the ashes. Lifting what used to be a flat-screen television that was now just a melted piece of plastic, he found the keys to the RV, which would have been good had the recreational vehicle not been completely burnt. Careful to avoid the broken shards of glass from what used to be his twenty-gallon fish tank, he took the dried-out fish and buried them in a shallow hole among what was left of the garden.
Jennifer and George also returned back to the animal shelter, having only time to save a few of their animals, they resorted to unlocking all the doors and cages to let the animals run off by themselves and escape the fire as best they could. Seeing the walls crumbling and burnt, what was left of their front office looked more like a warzone than a reception desk. Nearly every window was broken from the extreme heat, and the heat of the flames had caused all their electronics to melt into grotesque deformed shapes. Heading into the lunch room, George picked up a coffee pot that had survived the fire, despite the odds.
“Hey Jenn, at least we’ll be able to make coffee soon, eh?”
“Heh, good luck on finding running water as well as electricity to power the coffee maker. I think we should focus setting up a makeshift headquarters here and rescuing any wild or pet animals in the surrounding area. Sounds good?”
“I’ll get the pickup truck ready, but we’re going to need cages to keep the animals in.”
Loading up their vehicle, Jennifer suggested another idea: “we can always use the backseats of the truck and fill it up as long as they aren’t too big.”
Driving around the city, they looked for animals that were in distress and in need of help. Turning on the radio, they kept listening for updates from officials and local news broadcasters.
We have not confirmed the extent of the damage to infrastructure, homes and businesses, but the costs are likely to run into the billions without a doubt. Although this is a serious blow to Alberta’s economy, the rest of Canada’s thoughts are with the Albertans affected and Canadians will no doubt support them on their road to recovery.
Continuing to sift through the rubble for anything to salvage, Sally carefully picked through her burnt belongings, finding several of her toys melted in the extreme heat. Her favourite unicorn had most of its mane burnt off and was missing half its tail.
In addition to finding her engagement ring, Julia also found a significant portion of her jewelry, having been tough enough to withstand the heat. Although a bit dusty and covered in soot, the shine of the gold and diamonds glittered after a quick rub with a cloth.
Calling in his family to create a plan of action, they huddled together and made a commitment between them that they would rebuild their house and make it better than ever. They would move on past this hard trial and look forward to whatever may come next. Hugging and supporting each other, they finished up sorting through their belongings and headed back to their emergency shelter as they waited to start rebuilding their dream home. Within a few short weeks, Reuben had already begun framing their new house, and all across Fort McMurray, the skeletal buildings like Reuben’s were beginning to pop up all across the city. Streets were cleared of debris, and electricity was being restored to the thousands of citizens returning to the city. Even the iconic donut shop in town had reopened, after finished renovating the fire-gutted kitchen. Work at the tar sands camps also resumed, with workers returning to their usual duties and helping to keep oil production flowing.
Likewise, Jennifer and George had started rebuilding their animal shelter, and they successfully rescued several dogs and cats that had been abandoned by their owners and were running free in the city. Those that had tags were immediately reunited with their families, while others would have to wait to see if their owners would return to bring them home.
Indeed, several years later, much of the city had been rebuilt and once again, development encroached upon the surrounding forest, forcing another assembly of owls to gather. As they filled the trees on a hill overlooking the city, they all watched and waited, ever so patiently, for someone to hear their case and to champion their cause. Waiting for something to save their forests from being consumed, not by fire, but by development; their homes would once again be lost unless the expansion of humanity could be tamed. They knew that given the right conditions and enough time, the destruction of their habitat could be undone and eventually the forest can reclaim its territory. And so, they waited.
The End
About the Creator
Jesse Leung
A tech savvy philosopher interested in ethics, morals and purpose.
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