I grew up on the shores of Lake Rosseau in Ontario – running barefoot through the forest with my tribe of cousins while the loons laughed and the wind blew through the pine and birch trees. We would eat sour grass on High Rock, catch elegant bass from the boathouse, and swim in the soft sweet water – savouring the gifts nature gave us. It was here that my heart fell head over heels in love with the wild. Wild freedom in a wild place that knew no bounds. I was entranced by the natural world that was, simultaneously, untamed and a masterful design. I never thought of myself as separate from this place. I was part of the wild, and together we were invincible.

I recently returned to Ontario to help my aging father and took time to return to this land. After six generations, family conflict has forced us to sell and I wanted one more chance to connect with this place of my youth. I expected a wave of sweet melancholy as I said a loving farewell to the lake and trees and the generations who had roamed the land before me. But the conflict in my family hung heavy over me, souring the moment. And the once empty lake is now filled with expensive cottages and big loud boats that disturb the silence. The increase in rainfall resulted in an abnormally high water level leaving the dock underwater and the boathouses suffering. The place of my youth has been transformed by a society motivated to have power over, as opposed to power with, the wild. I sat by the shore and said a sad, heartbroken goodbye not just to the land but to a time and place that no longer exists. A loon called out, but it did not sound like it was laughing.

I returned to BC yesterday and today went down the Octopus Trail to Sheils Bay, one of the only sandy beaches on the island where I live. I am now sitting on a log at the high tide line, the waves lapping at my feet as the invisible but ever-present moon tugs at the ocean and the tide begins to recede. There are seagulls in the sky above me and I can hear eagles screeching from the trees. The expansive ocean before me is bookended by the thick deep forest at my back and the rugged Coast Mountains across Queen Charlotte Sound. This is now the place where I am embraced by the wild – in the salty wind that blows my hair, in the sounds of waves against the rock outcroppings, in the footprints of the deer, and in the folds of seaweed strewn across the beach.

But I no longer feel the youthful abandonment that let me blindly be a part of nature. Now I carry the responsibility of being an adult who has seen what happens when we take nature for granted. And I feel the burden of knowing nature’s limits, of witnessing the destruction caused by an economy based on consumption and extraction. And I promise to do better.

I came down the Octopus Trail to Sheils Bay seeking the unkempt beauty and freedom of wilderness that I no longer feel on the shores of Lake Rosseau. And far away, a loon laughed and welcomed me home.

Addendum – I was inspired to write this story after learning from Returning the Gift (2014)  and Braiding Sweetgrass (2013), both by Robin Wall Kimmerer. In both of these writings, Kimmerer explains the Indigenous relationship with nature as one based on reciprocity and gratitude  compared to the colonial worldview that looks at nature as a resource with monetary value. These two different worldviews go back to cultural stories of creation with Skywomans’ falling to the sea where she built land by working with the animals and Eve’s fall from grace that had her banished from the garden and to a life of having dominion over nature. I have always struggled with the colonial relationship with nature and Kimmerer’s writings helped me articulate this by looking at nature as a gift and in reciprocity of that gift, finding ways to care for the world we live in. This has left me with a questions . Am I reciprocating nature’s gift by caring for it/her the best I can? Is there more I can do to incorporate values of the Indigenous worldview into my work, my life, and my kids. I also wonder why it took me so long to discover this amazing writer.

Kimmerer, R. W. (2013). Braiding Sweetgrass , Milkweed Editions 

Kimmerer, R. W. (2014). “Returning the Gift.” Center for Humans and Nature.  

https://www.humansandnature.org/returning-the-gift-article-177.php