When Wildfires Hundreds of Kilometres Away Can Turn Out the Lights

 When Wildfires 🔥Hundreds of Kilometres Away Can Turn Out the Lights

Most of us think of power outages as something caused by a storm in our own neighbourhood. A fallen tree. Heavy snow. High winds.

But this week, BC Hydro reminded us that our electrical system is far more connected than many people realize.

Wildfires burning near Clinton are threatening the Kelly Lake 500 kV substation and major transmission lines that carry hydroelectric power from northern British Columbia to the Lower Mainland and Vancouver Island. Even though the fires are nowhere near Vancouver, people here could still experience flickering lights, brief power interruptions, or voltage fluctuations.

It's a powerful reminder that our infrastructure is only as strong as its weakest link.

Climate change isn't just about hotter summers or smoky skies anymore. It affects transportation, food production, drinking water, communications, and the electricity we rely on every single day.

As wildfire seasons become longer and more intense, these kinds of disruptions may become more common. We often think of the electrical grid as something invisible—something that simply works. Until it doesn't.

This is why protecting forests, investing in resilient infrastructure, and preparing for emergencies matter. Having a flashlight, keeping your phone charged, storing a few days of water and food, and thinking ahead isn't being alarmist—it's being prepared.

Nature is reminding us that everything is connected.

The electricity powering a light in Vancouver may begin its journey hundreds of kilometres away. A wildfire in the Interior can affect homes on the coast. Smoke from one region can blanket another.

Our province is connected by rivers, forests, transmission lines, and communities.

Perhaps it's time we started thinking that way too.

Stay safe, stay informed, and take care of one another.

Reflective Questions

1. How prepared is your household for an unexpected power outage?

2. Have we become too dependent on electricity without realizing it?

3. What surprised you most about a wildfire affecting power hundreds of kilometres away?

4. How should governments balance wildfire prevention with infrastructure protection?

5. What can communities do to become more resilient during climate-related emergencies?

6. How has climate change changed the way you think about everyday life?

7. Should critical infrastructure be redesigned to better withstand extreme weather?

8. What role do individuals play in preparing for emergencies?

9. How can we better protect both our forests and the essential services they support?

10. What lessons should British Columbia learn from this wildfire season?

#BritishColumbia #Vancouver #BCHydro #Wildfires #PowerOutage #ClimateChange #EmergencyPreparedness #Infrastructure #Resilience #StayPrepared

My Whale Murals- Kitsilano

Whale of Tale - Mural by Tina Winterlik aka Zipolita 

 

Tina Winterlik (Zipolita) – Artist Bio

Tina Winterlik, also known as Zipolita, is a Vancouver-based artist, photographer, and storyteller whose work lives at the intersection of resilience, nature, and human connection. With a background in digital imaging, photography, and social media storytelling, Tina has spent years documenting both beauty and truth—often turning her lens toward the overlooked, the misunderstood, and the deeply human.

Her creative path has never been separate from her lived experience. Through personal challenges, shifting economies, and a changing city, Tina continues to create with what is available—transforming simple materials into meaningful expressions. Whether through writing, photography, or painting, her work carries a consistent message: that even in difficult times, there is still connection, still kindness, still something worth protecting.

---

On the Murals – A Story from the Seawall

Yesterday reminded me why I keep going.

Lately, I’ve been writing about difficult things—heavy things. But out there, on the seawall, something entirely different happened.

Person after person stopped to talk to me. Not just passing by—but really stopping. They told me how much they loved the murals. How they look forward to seeing them. How they noticed when one had been damaged. How sorry they were that someone painted over parts of them… even writing something as harsh as “Nuke the whales.”

That one hurt.

But what stayed with me more was the kindness that followed. The words people took the time to say. The care. The encouragement. Honestly, it felt overwhelming—in the best way. Like medicine I didn’t even realize I needed.

If I ever feel low again, I know where to go.

---

There’s one piece in particular—the old log on the beach.

Last year, it was almost chopped up. I remember being there when people found out. There was a real sense of loss, like something important was about to disappear. But that log isn’t just driftwood—it feels like an old warrior. It has held its place through storms, tides, and time. It protects more than it harms. It belongs there.

And now, it holds art too.

---

One man who stopped to talk told me his son used to be a tagger. That could have been a tense conversation—but it wasn’t. It turned into something thoughtful and real. We talked about how expensive spray paint is, and how toxic—not just for the environment, but for the people using it.

We even talked about artists like Emily Carr and Vincent van Gogh, and how in their time, they were exposed to harmful chemicals in their paints—things we understand differently now.

It made me feel grateful for my own process.

Most of my materials come from simple places—$2 bottles of paint, brushes from Dollarama. For about $20 and a few hours of work, I painted a whale that’s still in progress… but already alive in its own way.

There’s something freeing about that. No gatekeepers. No expensive setup. Just time, effort, and care.

---

Some of the murals are in places that are hard to reach—ledges I have to carefully climb up and down. It’s not easy. But maybe that’s part of why they’ve lasted.

From April through summer, into winter—through wind, rain, and salt air—they’ve held up. Not perfectly, but beautifully. There’s wear, yes. But there’s also strength in that. Like they’ve lived.

---

Yesterday reminded me of something simple but powerful:

People care.

Not everyone—but enough.

Enough to stop. Enough to speak. Enough to see.

And right now, that means everything.

Follow My Work

If you’d like to see more of my art, writing, and ongoing projects, you can find me here:

🌿 Blog (Personal stories, murals, reflections)
http://tinawinterlik.blogspot.com

🌎 Adventurez In Mexico (Travel & culture)
http://adventurezinmexico.blogspot.ca

🎨 Zipolita (Art site – in progress)
http://zipolita.com

📌 Pinterest (Visual inspiration & collections)
https://www.pinterest.com.mx/zipolita

🐦 Twitter / X (Updates & thoughts)
https://twitter.com/zipolita

📘 Facebook (Community & posts)
https://www.facebook.com/pg/zipolita

💼 Online CV (Work & experience)
https://zipolitazcv.blogspot.com

---

Thank you for being here, for stopping, for seeing, and for caring. It means more than you know.

Lineage, Memory & Survival

 🌿 Lineage, Memory & Survival

When I was taking a Carving and Reconciliation course at Langara, some of the men laughed about dating when they were young — or “snagging” as they called it 😁😂.

They said sometimes you’d see someone you liked… and then your Aunty or Mom would step in:
👉 “That’s your cousin.”

💡 Those teachings were protection. They kept the family lines safe, and they carried wisdom about lineage and balance.

---

💔 What Was Broken

But then came the F*CKING Residential Schools.
Family trees torn apart. Names stolen. Kinship systems shattered.

And not just here. Across history, humanity has seen:

• Cousins marrying unknowingly.
• Women forced into marriages.
• Slavery.
• Violence against women on a massive scale.

---

🧬 What Sperm Carries

Every act of violence, every broken lineage, every trauma — it doesn’t vanish.
Science calls it epigenetics.
Elders call it memory.

It lives in the sperm.
It lives in the eggs.
It lives in us.

---

🌟 The Miracle

And yet — here we are.
Alive. Breathing. Continuing.

We carry scars.
But we also carry resilience.

✨ We are proof that survival is stronger than destruction.

---

💭 A Question for Today

What wisdom will we choose to pass forward?
What wounds will we choose to heal so the next generations don’t have to carry them?

What else is possible?

💡 What Else Is Possible? A Matriarchal Vision for Resilience

I keep thinking about Savages, the book where Indigenous people in Ecuador tried to clean up an oil spill with their bare hands. Oil pouring from rusted, corroded pipelines. No safety. No cleanup. No justice.
And I realize — this could happen here in Canada, too.

We build pipelines with borrowed money and political will, but when it's time to maintain or repair them, we say it's "too expensive." Tariffs go up, steel prices rise, and suddenly, safety and sustainability are off the table.

---

🚧 Building for Extraction vs. Building for People

Right now, we’re watching the old systems kick into overdrive.
It feels like all the Mark Y's and the boys — with all that testosterone energy — are saying:

“We’ll fix this. Drill more. Mine more. Build taller.”

But… what else is possible?
That’s what my friend always asks me — and that question has never felt more important.

---

🧠 We Don’t Need More Towers — We Need More Wisdom

If they can raise a 40-storey condo in 3 months,
Why can't we build 100 tiny homes in 3 weeks?

Let’s take the skills and materials we already have, and redirect them:

• 🛖 Tiny houses on every unused lot
• 🚲 Bike paths replacing car-clogged streets
• 🌱 Gardens instead of parking garages
• 🏫 Outdoor schools to teach real-world survival and connection
• 🧠 Mental health and healing centers, not jails
• 🎨 Community art and maker spaces, not luxury gyms

We don’t need more extraction — we need regeneration.

---

💣 Steel Tariffs, Trump, and the End of Illusions

Trump doubled the steel and aluminum tariffs — and it’s not just economic policy. It’s a power play.
He knows it raises construction costs for housing, pipelines, and renewables — and he doesn’t care.

It’s all part of a system designed to keep us chasing, consuming, and collapsing.

So let’s stop playing by those rules.

---

💬 What Else Is Possible?

What if we took back control of our streets, our land, and our future?

What if we:

• Taught kids to build tiny houses in high school
• Turned vacant condos into co-ops
• Hired artists and elders to design community spaces with soul

What if we stopped waiting for governments and just started building what we need?

---

💗 The Matriarchs Are Rising

This isn’t about women vs. men — it’s about values.

It’s time to lead with:

• Care, not control
• Connection, not competition
• Resilience, not extraction

The patriarchy has run wild. The Matriarchs are calling us home.
Let’s build it — together.

---

🛠️ So I Ask Again:

What else is possible?

Let’s stop dreaming of towers.
Let’s start building villages.

🌱
— Tina Winterlik aka Zipolita

---