Pause for a moment, Dear Reader and listen: Listen and make note of the sounds around you. From where I sit, I hear the hum of my computer, and further in the background the mutter of the television in the living room where my Dear Husband watches a British mystery, from the kitchen, the refrigerator vibrates away, and then there is the sound of the fan from the furnace as the fire takes the chill off the house. I have grown so used to these sounds that I don’t even hear them, as a matter of fact, the only time I notice them is in their absence during a power failure. At various times during the day, I hear the train go by on the track about a kilometer away. Sound is all around us: phones, doorbells, mp3 players, radio, traffic.
At this time of my life, I live in the country, far away from the din that accompanies urban centers and for this I am grateful. I once spent a week visiting a friend who lived in a high rise in down town Calgary. The noise funneled up from street level during the day, and wasn’t much quieter at night. I could never, ever live there; it would drive me mad. I lived in an apartment for a while where my neighbours were heavy metal maniacs at all hours of the day and most of the night. I have come to realize the blessing and the value of peace and quiet. This realization was particularly true for me three years ago when I was diagnosed with cancer. I saw four doctors in three cities in two provinces over the course of one month while trying to find one who had a clue how to treat the very rare type that I have. To say this was a stressful time was an understatement to say the least. I wanted nothing more for a while just to go on retreat for a time, far away from telephones, televisions, radios and just be alone with my thoughts.
This brings me my real topic today: 2007 marks the 10 anniversary of the beginning of the end of Nova Nada Monastery in Nova Scotia.
Nova Nada never really had much luck when it came to choosing a location. Their first monastery/hermitage in Sedona was abandoned due to urban development. When that happened, they found an old camp off the beaten track near Kemptville in the early 70’s and relocated there. All was well until J.D. Irving and Co began intensive logging in the area. Now to understand what this means you have to get a feeling for the J.D. Irvings and their way of doing business.
The Irvings are the “big fish” in the relatively small pond of the Maritimes. To give you an idea of just who pervasive this family is, you can’t even wipe your butt without helping to fill their coffers. Feelings about J.D. Irving tend to fall into one of two camps: He is either the second coming of Christ, or should burn in the lowest reaches of hell. They have singularly done the most to damage to the environment in these three provinces, and for the most part, without any accountability whatsoever. I was talking to some guy from Ducks Unlimited who extolled about all the money they had donated to them for wetlands preservation. However, as last year the company destroyed 5 blue heron nests (an endangered species) without so much as a second thought, clear cut everything in sight and the motto of St. John New Brunswick, home of Irving’s oil refinery as well as several pulp mills should be “Nice City, But it Stinks”, all the while adding whole new dimensions to the term “acid rain”, I somehow doubt their commitment to the environment. An oil barge, “the Irving Whale” went down near the malpaque oyster beds near PEI. It went down intact, but every so often, it would burp out a bit of crude. Finally, when it had deteriorated to the point where it was about to break up entirely, the government mounted a multi-million dollar project to bring to salvage it. And the Irvings said, “oh… and we guess we should tell you – there are pcbs on board. Oh, and if you manage to bring it up intact, we want the oil back, (the insurance had already paid out for both barge and contents). While the Irvings did not get the oil back, I guess you can see where this is going: They have a finger in every pie, are very used to getting their own way, and more often than not, they do. .
Basically, clearcut logging (that is the only type that the Irving’s do) besides being an ecological nightmare, is a noisy proposition, and during the summer, they go at it 24 hours a day. All the monks at Nova Nada wanted were peace and quiet – a two-mile buffer zone around the monastery. This was not to be had, and they countered with this offer. The monks were not alone in their fight; petitions were circulated (170,000 signatures), there was support from the Sierra Club but to no avail. The monks even offered to buy the land, and appealed to J.D. himself. Since the Irvings worship only one god and his name is Mammon, I imagine that it was rather like talking to a wall.
The monks of Nova Nada eventually gave up, and moved to Ireland to found another monastery. The monastery near Kemptville was eventually sold. I hope that the monks are more successful in their new home, and that they find the peace and solitude that they sought. As for the rest of us; in losing both the monastery and its inhabitants, we are all that much poorer.
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