Tiny Ecology Entry #2:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Once upon a time<\/strong>, there was a peaceful corner in the front yard of my house where I would sit and commune with the birds. This spot was in view from my front window, so on very cold and rainy days, I would watch from behind the glass. There was a mature ornamental plum tree and numerous shrubs that were common in gardens in the area at the time, some native species, some not. Beyond the sit spot, the front yard comprised mainly of lawn that sprawled from the house toward the road. It was a bit of an ecological dead zone<\/a>, even when it was lush and green. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Every day<\/strong>, the birds would visit my peaceful corner, chatting and chirping as they flitted from bush to tree to ground, pecking at seeds from dead flowers, and lichen from the tree trunk. They would move around the perimeter of the yard where the shrubs and trees were. I rarely, if ever saw them on the lawn. Nothing there for them. They would come swooping down during rainstorms, bathing, and frolicking in the showers while plucking any available food from the plants. <\/p>\n\n\n\n One day<\/strong>, we decided to reimagine the land in our yard, this tiny ecology that we had some ability to influence with our own action. At that time, I already knew the changes to the climate coming…we were already seeing change, but the worst was yet to come. We had just experienced the extreme heat dome of 2021, and that experience woke a lot of people up to the here-and-now-ness of climate change. The imagery of climate change for me had always been more active, violent, and stormy; more about waves crashing on shorelines and hurricanes and even extreme cold from polar vortex winter conditions. In contrast to those imaginings, the oppressive, ominously still, humid, quiet heat was breathtakingly horrible and many people, plants, and animals died that year due to heat-related illness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The climate projections for our region<\/a> indicated that by 2050, we would be experiencing warmer winter temperatures, fewer days below freezing, more extreme heat in summers, longer droughts in summer months, more precipitation in fall, winter, and spring, and more intense extreme weather events. At the time, it was hard to imagine what that would look like in our lives, but it didn\u2019t take long for the lived experiences of impacts to keep rolling in. <\/p>\n\n\n\n One particularly stormy autumn, we had an atmospheric river <\/a>event that dropped so much rain for days on end, that it overwhelmed the drainage systems around our house and flooded the basement. Not long after that, we had an extreme wind storm, which when coupled with the oversaturated soils and drought\/heat-stress from the previous summer, resulted in the toppling of two large old Douglas-fir trees in our neighbour\u2019s yard; trees that were there for nearly a century, wind-firm and adapted to the old climate, but unable to keep rooted in these changing conditions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Because of that<\/strong>, we explored ideas of how to build resilience for ourselves and the ecosystem we were part of; adapting and responding to our climate future with every decision taken on behalf of the land. We selected drought-tolerant, native plants to replace the lawn, creating pollinator-friendly refugia for birds and other critters during the hot dry summers. We planted with food security in mind, so over time, we nurtured a food forest to life in our front yard. At one time there were multiple varieties of edible, native berries and greens that were shared among our human and non-human neighbors and relations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n To accommodate the intense rain events, we incorporated rain gardens<\/a> that could absorb loads of water, and then used bioswales<\/a> to direct excess flow away from the foundation of our house. We had a rainwater capture system and a cistern<\/a> to collect rainwater for summer irrigation. We planted drought-tolerant trees that grew tall and shaded our house from the heat of the summer months, which also provided habitat for birds and other wildlife. We collaborated with our local community, Indigenous and non-Indigenous, sharing ideas and stories of trial and error, building up our knowledge and practice, adapting and iterating as we went along. There were many errors and missteps, but over time, with an attitude of continuous learning, and acting in reciprocity with the land and all the living and non-living beings, we learned how to actively manage for the impacts of climate change, which came faster and with more intensity than scientists expected. And in the end<\/strong>, as I look out upon that peaceful spot now, it is a different world than it was 25 years ago. The plants that grow here now are different species than the native ones from the past. The birds are different too. The usual residents are still coming around to feed and bathe in the rain, but the colourful migrant birds have shifted their routes and timing, so it\u2019s hard to know who is coming and when anymore. Some years are better than others, and I have seen new visitors from the far south that are now able to reach our latitudes due to the long summers and mild winters. The landscape of our yard is a wilder space than it once was, and it is ever-changing due to the dramatic shifts in our climate. Some things thrive, others have long since died, and the changes remain dynamic and unpredictable. Adaptation to climate change, for us, has been a continuous, iterative journey filled with gains and losses, grief and joy, and we are so grateful we are still here to tell the story. Rotman, S. (2017). \u201cOnce upon a time\u2026\u201d Eliciting energy and behaviour change stories using a fairy tale story spine. Energy Research & Social Science<\/em>,31<\/a>, 303-310. doi: 10.1016\/j.erss.2017.06.033<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Tiny Ecology Entry #2: Once upon a time, there was a peaceful corner in the front yard of my house where I would sit and commune with the birds. This spot was in view from my front window, so on very cold and rainy days, I would watch from behind the glass. There was a … <\/p>\n
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* This story was created following the story spine, as detailed by Rotman (2017):<\/p>\n\n\n\n