My husband and I carpool to work all summer long. And the conversation every morning as we pass the farm fields in Ladner inevitably goes something like this: "Eww. Is that you?" "No! Are you sure it isn't you?" "Never in my life. It's gotta be you."
Of course, the stench prompting this awkward exchange is whatever they use to make the agricultural land around us fertile. So we carry on, holding our noses until we've passed this full-on olfactory assault. Often, this can take time, especially if we're crawling along behind a tractor or some other spiky metal farm implement shedding dirt, hay or potatoes on our hood and windshield.
The slow-motion commute gets a bit unnerving when complemented by what sounds alarmingly like gunshot blasts. It's not hunting season; is someone shooting at us? Crouched low in our seats, we peer out the windows for the shooter but see only acres of empty blueberry fields.
Now, you know the preceding bit is my reliably sardonic, but not necessarily always successful, attempt to humour and inform readers with this column. The truth is, I like living next to farmland, despite the little inconveniences such a lifestyle may bring. Sure, it smells once in a while. Tractors make for a long commute when you get stuck behind them. And the blueberry cannons do tend to wake me early from an otherwise fitful sleep. But on the plus side, I'm proud to live in the same community that actually grows my fruits and vegetables, my house isn't shoehorned in by cement and concrete, and if the dog could talk she'd emphasize how much she likes the potatoes she finds on the side of the road.
I bring these things forward in light of recent controversy over the blueberry cannons farmers use to scare birds from their fields. Ministry of Agriculture guidelines allow the cannons to fire from 6:30 a.m. to 8 p.m. In Delta, farmers must also abide by local regulations calling for a hiatus between noon and 3 p.m. and not closer than 300 metres to residential property. According to members of the group Ban the Cannons, certain farmers aren't adhering to those regulations and life for them has become far short of peaceful. It's tempting to dismiss their complaints as symptoms of NIMBY, so common in these parts. However when longtime farmer Colleen Terpsma writes a letter to the editor backing the ban, as she did last month, and pleads for someone to "stop the torture of our communities with these barbaric devices," I'm inclined to pay much closer attention.
When I was a kid, and my brother and sisters would fight at the dinner table or in the car or, God forbid, in public, my poor, defeated dad would bow his head, slump his shoulders and sigh, "Why can't we all just get along?" I'm going to channel that sentiment here, because I can't stand the idea of this urban/rural conflict threatening what we have here in South Delta, and more specifically threatening the viability of such a vital enterprise. The provincial government had the exact same thing in mind when it enacted the Farm Practices Protection (Right to Farm) Act in 1995 to prevent poor farm practices and to protect farmers using normal farm practices from frivolous lawsuits and complaints.
Seems like a lot of common sense to me. It's too bad common sense isn't a crop we can hoe.
