It's autumn again along the coast of British Columbia. The salmon are beginning to migrate up the rivers to the locations of their own birth. Every year I am reminded of that impossible to distinguish line between life and death. The salmon return to their birthing waters, they spawn, and they die. Their remains bring forth a multitude - seagulls, ravens, eagles, crows, trout, bear, crayfish, innumerable insects, crustaceans and other life forms -- all dining on nutrients provided by the salmon's decaying bodies. This spectacle of the alive awakens human bodies, our own senses, it moves in conjunction with our own livings and dyings. As if an ecstasy and a sorrow, a feasting and a horror, together come begging for return.
The following video was made from images and audio I obtained from one particular location where the sallmon have returned to spawn. A loud abundance moved around me -- you will hear thousands of gulls, the splashing of salmon, the occassional call of an eagle. However, most obviously, you will hear the ravens who took particular interest in me; watching me from a high perch, repeatedly flying over, croaking loudly, checking out my every activity.
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