A change of scenery

A sudden noise makes me look up from my computer: it is a gust of wind trying to get my attention, to lure me over to the window. Curious if this is really what it sounds like I get up and peer out into the night to try and catch a glimpse of the big spruce trees. The moon, a golden banana in an obsidian bowl, is low in the western horizon, almost ready to slip behind the trees I cannot distinguish from the sky in the darkness. I stand and watch, transfixed: this is not the silver moon travelling high above for hours between rising and setting, but a heavenly body glowing warmly, disappearing slowly from view. A few more minutes, and all I see is the slightly curved tip of its horn, now resembling the quietly burning flame of a candle, a moment later extinguished for yet another night. The wind is blowing steadily, its sustained rumble matched by the rumble of the furnace. The bitter cold that had gripped us for a few days last week has relented, the wind no longer a menacing presence – at least for now.

It is good to be home again after three days at Farm Tech, Western Canada’s most prominent crop production and farm management conference taking place at the newly renovated Northlands conference centre in Edmonton, attended by about 1600 people. Last year I accompanied Johann, who had been there several times before, for the first time, and enjoyed it very much. This year both of our sons, Magnus and Carl, were there as well, which made it even more special.

Keynote speakers address the whole crowd on several occasions, and during the day one can choose between concurrent breakout sessions that make it possible to get informed on a variety of agriculture-related topics. There are sessions on marketing and agriculture policy, on modern production techniques and plant diseases, on germination testing and weather outlook. High-profile speakers come from all over Canada and the United States, and as far away as Ukraine and the UK. In other years Johann has listened to presenters from other parts of Europe, South America and even Australia, Asia and Africa.

But learning doesn’t only take place during the structured parts of the program, of course. With so many people sharing the same interests and passion, facing the same problems and challenges, the exchanges that happen during the informal parts of the conference are just as valuable. Meal times – amazingly organized and very efficiently conducted for such a huge crowd of people – provide ample opportunities for conversation over wonderful food, and evenings find participants gathered in ‘hospitality suites’ and industry sponsored events. The first night we were fortunate enough to be part of a group gathered in the slowly rotating restaurant on the top floor of the Chateau Lacombe downtown. We had an amazing view of the city, passing the most prominent downtown buildings, watching traffic snaking up and down the hill to the North Saskatchewan River 24 stories below, trying to find landmarks we recognized. We were happy to reconnect with old acquaintances we hadn’t seen in a while, and spent time with others we hadn’t met before.

Since there are hardly any accommodations close to the conference centre we were a bit sceptical what effect this would have – up to last year the conference had taken place at a hotel on the west side, which was no longer big enough to host the event. The shuttle service between the downtown hotels and the conference centre on the east side was very well organized, however, and it couldn’t have run more smoothly.

Last night, watching the magically lit city slide by on my way back to the hotel, I decided to skip the first session today to take a walk around downtown: I rarely get there except for concerts at the Francis Winspear Hall of Music, always at night, and with no time to spare for looking at buildings old and new in the heart of Edmonton. This was a perfect opportunity to explore the Arts District a block or two north of our hotel, with the Art Gallery, the Citadel Theatre, City Hall and, in front of it, Sir Winston Churchill Square. There, I had been told, ice sculptures were on display at the moment, and I wanted to look at them, too, but had to find out that this was only possible on the weekend – a reason to come back, maybe.

I also passed some red-brick buildings from Edmonton’s early days, the first decade of the 20^th century, nicely restored already or in the midst of renovations, witness to a time when it was more important to erect buildings necessary to service a growing economy – banks, newspaper, trading houses – than provide venues for entertainment and culture.

Watching the sun come up over the river, partly hidden by a bank of clouds, the crisp morning air painting my cheeks red, hands buried in the pockets of my coat, I felt what General Hillier, today's wonderful keynote speaker, pointed out this afternoon: how fortunate I am to live here, in a country that is safe and prosperous, not plagued by war and rarely subject to disastrous natural catastrophes – even though it can be a bit cold at times.

Much as I enjoyed this disruption of winter routine, I am happy to be home again. The wind has not yet gone to bed, and Orion, too, is still on his nightly march across the sky. I, however, be it in the city or out here under the immense sky, will take to heart the wise words of a Chinese proverb:

         The secret is not to fly in the air, or to walk on the water, 

                           but to walk on the earth”.