The Need for a Home

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But the voice opposing the restrictions of anything even approaching zoning laws has been strident enough to shout them down. As it stands, the most urgent issues facing the community, besides development, are forestry (the surrounding mountains are scarred from clear-cut logging) and pollution of the lake.

From the end of May until September there is a steady parade of tourists, logging trucks, gravel trucks, and motor bikes by my door. I can't help but contrast it with 20 years ago when nearly every car was familiar and their passing was scarce enough to make us pop up from our chairs and stare. Yet despite the fact that I had been content to live three miles away from the nearest road for more than a decade, I understood the practical sides of good access.

When the children and I moved in at the end of June, we had neither water nor the certainty that any was ever going to be found. Between the onslaught of logging trucks and speed-drunk tourists, I negotiated buckets of water across the road from Shuswap Lake back to the kitchen of the gleaming modern trailer. And as summer intensified, hundreds of houseboats, sailboats, Seadoos, and speed boats made the water unsafe for drinking. We were forced then to transport it from places we knew were clean.

NEW ROOTS
Moccasin flowers resist transplanting and will die if removed from their natural habitat. I can relate to that.

Mom and I employed the services of more than one water witcher. Dennis arrived first in May and left a series of red ribbons, especially along the west side. A backhoe delved into the most southwest corner, and we were distressed to see an apple tree topple because of it — particularly when there wasn't even enough water to warrant putting in a well. I inquired about tapping into the lake, like numerous residents do, but the cost included drilling under the road and installing a culvert, for a total of about $4,000. The price compounded with the waiting period for necessary permits made it out of the question.

Next I heard of a water witcher in the community with a glowing reputation for accuracy and we called on him. Old Jim arrived in an expansive green car and set right to work. With an authentic yet false-toothed grin beneath humor-filled blue eyes, he noted how our bodies all have electricity in them. Apparently streams also have electromagnetic fields, and that is what the divining rod detects. With his metal wand he read the rivers of electricity in the ground, and I observed as he stopped at a gravelly spot, lush with horsetails. The rods, which tall, lean Jim had been holding out in front of him, now bent out in opposite directions. With the long finger of a soothsayer, he pointed out the hidden vein that ran southeast from the fence line to a fence post beside the road. Quickly we marked the spot with a stake. And we prayed that he was right because we had learned just how expensive well drilling is. Whether water is located or not, the hole has to be paid for. Nor could diviners give too close an estimate of what depth to which we would have to go.

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