(I’ve made mention of this editorial a few times over the last month, talking about how the week that Luke Magnotta murdered Jun Lin in Montreal this was our cover photo. I’ve decided to share the editorial (and the photo) here. This is from the June 5, 2011 issue of the Tumbler Ridge News.)
“How long does a moment last, daddy?”
That’s Zoe, upon being asked to wait a moment while I try and finish what I’m doing before I get her that snack she’s asking for.
“A moment lasts as long as it needs to,” I reply.
There was a magic moment here last week, when a mother duck and her nine baby ducklings walked, seemingly out of nowhere, and into downtown Tumbler Ridge.
They came to the front door of the Tumbler Ridge News, and I first heard about them to the cries of “Trent, get your camera get your camera duck!”
I wasn’t sure whether to hide behind my desk or sprint out with camera blazing, but after a moment’s confusion, I figured it out and went to get some pictures of our visitors.
The baby ducklings had not just attracted the attention of people who worked in the downtown core; they had attracted the attention of a pair of ravens who were nipping at the baby ducklings, then getting chased off by mom.
After a few attempts, the crows (ravens?) were then chased off by one of the people watching the ducklings, which, after all, were much cuter. “You can go back to eating garbage, you big bullies,” she yelled. Actually, she probably didn’t, but this is my moment.
The ducks then turned around and began to walk through town, past Shop Easy, where a few dozen of the menacing black birds lurked. Fortunately only two of the brutes noticed the ducklings and were easily rebuffed by mom and myself, who was now quite interested in seeing the ducks escape downtown safely. I figure the only reason the ravens are in downtown in such a concentration is because they are drawn their by us humans and our garbage, so it’s only fair that us humans provide a little protection to these wayfaring strangers.
The ducks made their way around behind Valleyview, climbing to the crest of the hill overlooking the corner of Northgate and Monkman Way on their way towards the Elementary School. And that’s when the real moment happened, as they walked across the top of the hill, in a gap between a park bench and a power pole.
I still had my camera, and started snapping shots of the birds walking along the crest of the hill like a group of hikers making their way along a ridgeline.
I followed the birds for a bit farther, but was satisfied they had at least navigated downtown Tumbler Ridge successfully.
It’s here that moment ends, and it’s there it will end. I know that others were trying to get the birds safely to water, but I went back to the office, happy not just for the break in the day, but happy that we live in this town.
In Montreal, gay porn stars murder their boyfriends and hack them to pieces, and yet the entire downtown core of Tumbler Ridge can nearly ground to a halt at the sight of baby duckies.
And I’m thankful that Tumbler Ridge is like that. I love that this is a place where sometimes the biggest story of the week is baby ducklings, not dismembered college students.
I think we should be thankful that we live in a place where we lament the fact that there’s mud on the street from the mine trucks, and don’t have to worry about blood on the streets from tanks.
And I know that I’m a newspaper editor, and that I should be hoping for a little mayhem. After all, if it bleeds it leads.
But no. It’s not perfect, and it can be highly dysfunctional at times, but give me the backwaters of Tumbler Ridge, and cover stories on eight-year old hockey players than your big city violence, murder and mayhem. A place where small moments still stand out.
Trent is the publisher of Tumbler RidgeLines.
