What Beavers Can Teach Us
My new home is an old, rotting trailer in a half-empty subdivision beside a dying lake. My eyeglasses are held together with hockey tape. I wear Home Hardware padded plaid coats and leisure-wear pants. Despite waves of pandemic-induced anxiety, I feel a potential for happiness that I haven’t felt in years.
It’s a long-winding path, how I got here. I won’t bore you with the details. Or at least, I won’t bore you all at once.
Instead, I’d like to roll out various snippets and tidbits over time, alongside snapshots (literal and figurative) of what it’s like to live here and why we sold our lovely bi-level in a desired commuter town to live in a tin can in Wheresthatville Alberta.
I hope also that as Darwin and I explore the themes that fascinate us, such as what makes a house a home and how to live a happy, creative life, you find common questions and intersecting points. Perhaps we can embark on a dialogue together.
A note about our website’s name. Darwin came up with ‘hibernacula’ and it stuck for several reasons. First, we are inspired by all the creatures we see around us who seek shelter in various ways when summer is over. Although some head south for warmer temperatures, many stay, creating burrows and lodges, dens and nests against the harsh environment outside.
Building a shelter against a harmful outside world is what we want to do with our ‘cabin in the woods’.
Second, we’re amazed by the nature around us. As photographers, we’re keen observers of our surroundings. Our love of natural sciences dovetails well with our curiosity about the lives of the critters living out their lives alongside us. While not always getting it right, science has boosted humanity’s physical health and well-being, yet people are turning to superstition and conspiracy in ever larger numbers. Why are people distrustful at a time when we most need to listen to the experts? Can we uncover insights on this trend through our art?
Third, we’ve spent a fair bit of time watching the beavers prepare for winter. They’ve created a ‘beaver crossing’ on the gravel road by dragging branches to their underwater storage. We ponder how they spend the long dark winter in ‘lockdown’ with each other. Do they get on each others’ nerves? Why do we never see protesting beavers, picketing on top of the lodge stating they will not spend another minute in that confined space against their will? What makes them work and live (apparently) harmoniously, and how can we learn from their successful cooperation?
I hope you join us on our journey and share your own experiences, thoughts and musings on these timeless topics.
