Water on Earth Day: no water in sight in Elquí Valley, Chile

... and yet: it tends to be a problem.

Elqui Valley in the Coquimbo Region in the Norte Chico of Chile is characterised by a semi-arid climate with annual rainfalls of only 90-100 mm. And yet, the ground of the valley is highly utilised farmland: of vinyards, oranges, avocados and, well, yes, more vinyards, producing the popular Pisco.

Pisco Elquí 1,
Soft Pastel on Board, 35x25cm


Tres Cruces, Elquí Valle,
Soft Pastel on Board, 35x25cm

It's one of the most amazing landscapes I've seen so far. The blue of the sky in autumn heat, soft pink/yellow/red mountains filled with cacti vegetation enclosing lime green plantation. Such contrast! And, with Elqui Valley ranking as the top spot for clear night skies (300+ days pa without any clouds), it air sparkles and vibrates.

The ecological system is designed around the supply of freshwater through Río Elquí and its two contributories Río Claro and Río Turbío - with the latter passing through one of large mining areas of the country and thus carrying high loads of heavy metals.

Over recent years, however, heavy and erratic rainfalls - crazy rains, lluevias locas - that coincides with the El Niño phenomena threatens communities and agricultural production. It loosens debris from the hillslopes and causes dangerous debris flows into the valleys. Climate change - and with it an increased and more intense occurrence of El Niño as well as in the higher variability of melt water flow with the recession of many of the Andean glaciers which supply the original water source of Río Elquí is one reason for this. Anoether reason lies in the higher intensity of agricultural production on hill slopes as well as more intensive goat herding along the slopes.

• A map of the region is here
• An article on rain fall variability and vulnerability of the Elquí Valle is here

• For more on my recent travels around Chile, a collection of my recent posts are here
• And, there is a sister post on Gabriela Mistral, the Chilean poet and Nobel laureate who grew up in Elquí Valle, here

Water on Earth Day – Newfoundland’s pristine reputation?

Newfoundland benefits from being an island in terms of its ecological footprint on the earth. Lack of industry limits pollution of air and water, but the simple act of living creates its own challenges. Raw sewage still pours into the ocean from harbours, as it does in many parts of Canada and the world. The problem is being addressed, but it will be years before the harbours are fit to see anything besides seagulls in them.

There has been clean up of rivers in the past few years and one success story is the Rennies Mill River which now teams with fish and wildlife.

Fish are the equivalent of the canaries in the mines and are the first to show that something is not right with the water. Frogs as well are never present in polluted waters. I am lucky where I live in that both are there in the water that flows from its source to the sea. If they leave, I will know there is a problem.

The Atlantic ocean is clean by many standards but still poses problems for fish and mammals that make it their home. The fishing industry is dead or dying so the incidents of whales becoming entangled in fishing nets is limited. Ghost nets still roam the sea, making life a misery for those who encounter them.

Plastic carrier bags and rings that hold six packs of cans together cause death on a daily basis for both sea creatures and those on land through slow suffocation or entanglement.

While Newfoundland is blessed with clean air and clean water, we still have a way to go towards a cleaner environment and a smaller footprint on the world.

Water on "Earth Day" Morning Mist on the Helford

My day usually starts with a walk. As I work from home I like to think of these walks as my "walk to work", also I need to walk the dog. I am very fortunate to live right by the Helford River in Cornwall, possibly one of the most beautiful places on Earth (I think so anyway). And so, rain or shine, sweltering sun or swirling snow, I trudge the paths alongside this river as it makes its final mile out to sea. The river, its wooded banks, little inlets and hidden beaches have woven themselves into my heart and into my work, as I walk I see a thousand things that cry out to be painted. As artists we are compelled to record, thoughts, feelings, places and people, this beautiful earth and I have always felt that part of an artists job is to highlight or underline the ordinary. A metaphorical poke in the ribs... "hey, you there, take a look at this, see the light there, that line of trees in the mist, isn't it so wonderful, are we not the luckiest folk to have this, to live here?"

Lets keep it safe!

Water on "Earth Day" - Coast erosion

My ongoing English Coast project gives me first-person up-close experience of changes along our vast coastline (so vast I've not even cycled 10%!). While I appreciate the effects and implications of erosion often I see it from a strange mixture of an artistic and a pragmatic point of view. Here I'll share images from my photo-journey that I use as painting references.


Left to right: Blackgang cliffs looking down; looking across the clifftop at the walking path, altered several times; the clifftop literally breaking off along part of the walk.


Left to right: Alum Bay where tourist sand novelties are made with shipped-in sand, it's forbidden now to take away the unique geology; two more views east and west along the cliffs at Blackgang Chine.

What's shocking is that this entire area used to be a thriving tourist industry! Less than 60 years ago. Areas populated and accessible in the 70s are now underwater. See this site for historic postcards and photos.

I wrote in my sketchbook on the Isle of Wight, May 2008:

"This is the first real coast trip where I felt and saw a real environmental change in progress on the English coast. But I don't see this as negative because it simply is a natural consequence over time - be it a consequence of weather, temperature, erosion, human activity or other factors (human beings being, of course, part of nature). The destruction at Blackgang for example is profound and astounding, but perhaps my role is to capture the sight, the feeling. We can't stop the sea."

Even more striking to me, if that's possible, were the coastal changes in Yorkshire, from Bridlington down to Spurn Head, where I cycled in late 2008. The reason the differences were perhaps starker was simply because the human aspect of the landscape had been affected and the remnants were still very obvious. To be told a whole village is gone is one thing - to see existing roads ending as rubble in the sea is another. This has happened in the last 10 years, the areas were on my OS map.


Left to right: Warning along the road; Then it's remnants falling down; This path used to be a road that curved around following the coast and then up to the next village, and there was even a farm depicted on the latest Ordnance Survey maps - now it's a worn path along the field edge; A disused rail track on Spurn Head penninsula, which used to be much wider.


But beauty comes from even this. This sights resulted in some of my favourite paintings to date.


Left to right: Spurn Head (100x120cm), Filey Brigg (diptych, 50x100cm), Blackgang Below (120x150cm)
You can see my entire English Coast series on my website.