COLUMN: The cruellest month

“April is the cruellest month, breeding 

Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing

Memory and desire, stirring 

Dull roots with spring rain.”                                                                                                     

Those memorable lines from T.S. Eliot’s The Wasteland were penned in 1922. 

And 95 years later, they fit the weather narrative in this town to a T.                                                                                                                   

As every amateur scientist knows, the sun is the major source of light for life on this planet. 

That being said, where, oh where, has that comforting orb gone? 

More importantly, in its absence, what options do the denizens of this rain-soaked valley have to escape the clutches of Mother Nature? 

Some have embarked on an extended relationship with Jack Daniels and Johnny Walker. 

Others have sought solace by knocking back a selection of local brews, including Diamond Head Stout and Garibaldi Honey Pale Ale. 

Many have imbibed large quantities of the fruit of the vine in its fermented form. 

And not just a few happy souls have inhaled the euphoria-producing vapours of the cannabis plant, via roach, doobie or bong.                                                                   

Now don’t get me wrong, the above preface does not imply that we’re overly preoccupied with the weather, or that the sole escape is substance-induced oblivion. 

In fact, this town has plenty of other alternatives to avert the mind from the precipitation gremlins.

Last weekend I decided to visit our unofficial cultural shrine, the Brackendale Art Gallery, a.k.a. the BAG, to catch up with Bluesberry Jam, a highly entertaining and polished Squamish-based show band.  

Just setting foot in the cheery confines of that eclectic-raptor-adorned venue can chase away any lingering doldrums.  

Add to that a chance to hear a collection of top-drawer musicians and vocalists and it doesn’t get any better on a Saturday night in Brackendale. 

Besides performing some memorable blues numbers from the likes of Muddy Waters and Stevie Ray Vaughn, the group tapped into a wide ranging repertoire of R&B and rock classics. 

To say the BAG was rockin’ would be an understatement. The house was packed and from the get-go it was party time. 

Once the music started, members of the audience were dancing in front of the stage, in the aisles and on the balcony.

Toward the end of the evening, the band’s front man, Papa “Woody” Woodridge, and his associates dialed up one of their keynote tunes, “Too Hot to Handle.” 

A stanza of that piece reminded listeners of the seasonal changes ahead on the weather event horizon: “I remember summer days, sun beating down, all alone on the boardwalk, no one else around…”

With the rain rattling off the network of green metal rooftops atop the BAG, and a Cheshire grin gracing my chops, all I could say was, “Bring it on folks.”