High Lonesome
Artist Statement
- In the Northwest, a river without salmon is like a body without a soul.
Timothy Egan, The Good Rain
I don’t believe in magic. I believe in the sun and the stars, the water, the tides, the floods, the owls, the hawks flying, the river running, the wind talking. They’re measurements. They tell us how healthy things are. How healthy we are. Because we and they are the same. That’s what I believe in. Those who learn to listen to the world that sustains them can hear the message brought forth by salmon.Billy Frank, Jr.
According to our spiritual way of life, everything is based on nature.
Anything that grows or lives is part of our spiritual life.
The most important element we have in our way of life is water.
The next most important element is the fish because the fish comes from water.
Isluumc, Horace Axtell (1924-2015), Nez Perce elder, September 2008
These landscapes also serve as encounters with diverse and specific habitats that have shaped and been shaped by distinct salmon populations. The journey of the Snake River salmon connects 7,000 foot high Rocky Mountain valleys to the Pacific Ocean, sage brush deserts to montane forests. This journey also connects what are mostly ocean fish to terrestrial food webs 1,000 river miles from the ocean. The migration of Snake River salmon to tributaries in central Idaho, northeast Oregon, and southeast Washington stands as a testament to the interdependency of seemingly separate ecologies, communities (indigenous and otherwise), and natural environments.
Salmon literally and figuratively embody virtuous cycles and integral, layered ecological connection. They reach maturity in the ocean, feasting on nutrient a rich diet, absorbing vital minerals such as phosphorous and nitrogen into their flesh. As salmon return to their natal streams to spawn, they sacrifice their bodies, providing food for humans, eagles, bears and other animals. Their flesh nourishes otherwise nutrient-poor streams and soil, helping forests flourish with some help from mycelium who carry phosphorous to tree roots.
The High Lonesome landscapes are vital not only to the story of endangered salmon but also to hope for a future where communities honor the landscapes, cultural traditions, and economies intimately connected to healthy, abundant salmon runs by adapting our energy, grain transportation, and irrigation systems consistent with that vision.
These paintings, in addition to sharing a love of and connection to these unique but increasingly underused high elevation salmon spawning and nursery streams, pose questions. What will it take to choose a future of salmon abundance for the inland Northwest? Can the inland Northwest – and those of us who care about it – summon the will, desire, and reverence for this keystone species and cultural icon to “hear the message brought forth from salmon”? And if we hear it, will we heed it?