Summer 2003, Banff, Alberta, Canada. As fires spread out of control in Alberta, roads to Banff close. The Canadian Rockies hide behind dense gray smoke. Yet, up in the Columbia Icefield of Jasper National Park, old snow-coaches continue to bring people up to the Athabasca Glacier, which is melting every year and whose water flows into the Pacific, Atlantic, and Arctic Oceans. A mining company literally decapitates Sulphur Mountain for its raw materials. I am awestruck by the beauty of the Canadian Rockies as well as the destructive force of man and nature. Some days, the skies are cerulean blue; other days bring a shroud of smoke and large gray snowflakes of ash. I can still recall the burning smell in the air and the feeling that the fires are at once nearby and far away. Coincidentally, Banff loses power at the same time the eastern part of North America is experiencing a massive blackout. All the while, the animals remain calm, tame, and only ten feet from my window.
