Those of you who work so diligently to defend this province’s rich natural heritage will understand that the acquisition over the next two years of a 423-hectare swath of the Bruce Peninsula known as Malcolm Bluff Shores is a very big deal.

How big? Consider this: For an average hiker, it would take the better part of a morning to walk the four-kilometre stretch of the Bruce Trail that traverses the site. The property is large enough to eclipse downtown Kingston and much of the core of Ottawa.

Here are a few more comparisons: the Bruce Trail Conservancy owns almost 1,300 kilometres of trails on 2,800 hectares of land, so Malcolm Bluff Shores represents a land acquisition equal to one-seventh of the Conservancy’s total holdings – or 700 football fields, which is equivalent to a fifth of the land mass of Point Pelee National Park, in southwestern Ontario.

Of course, our two organizations weren’t just interested in buying a large piece of real estate. With Malcolm Bluff Shores, we will acquire – and thus protect forever – a deeply tranquil place rich in biological diversity that extends from the Georgian Bay shoreline to the crest of the escarpment.

From an ecological perspective, the Malcolm Bluff site is notable because it is one of the largest remaining intact tracts of woodland on the Bruce Peninsula, large enough to support sensitive bird species such as the ovenbird, scarlet tanager, wood thrush and even the Canada warbler.

This acquisition also gives all of us in the conservation community an opportunity to reflect on the importance of nature reserves. Many of us live in the highly developed regions of southern Ontario, where urban sprawl, deforestation and industrial scale agriculture have seriously damaged the natural landscape. Our cities expand relentlessly, while highway construction accelerates cottage and resort development in the Canadian Shield lake region. Farther afield, logging and mining operations fragment the landscape and fracture ecosystems, habitats and wildlife corridors.

As Mark Carabetta, Ontario Nature’s conservation science manager who oversees our nature reserve program, tells me, “It would be great if policies were in place that protected our landscape so that species could survive and thrive, but that’s not the case. Even on the escarpment, which is protected, Malcolm Bluff Shores was logged. Buying sensitive habitat and protecting it in perpetuity is one important tool we can use to safeguard land from the impact of development.”

Ontario Nature initiated its nature reserve program back in 1961, and in the years since, we have amassed a network of 21 nature reserves, comprising more than 2,000 hectares of rare and vulnerable habitat. Malcolm Bluff Shores will be our 22nd reserve and our second largest holding.

Our reserves, by the way, have always been open to the general public. These areas truly belong to the people of Ontario, and we want individuals and their families to visit, enjoy and learn.

It’s worth noting that the 50th anniversary of Ontario Nature’s nature reserve program will be upon us shortly. We feel as strongly about this aspect of our mandate today as we did when we started the program. This fall, we are launching a major fundraising drive to complete the Malcolm Bluff Shores acquisition. We hope you will join us in this effort to help protect Ontario’s wild species and wild spaces.

As Canadian lead of the Detroit River International Crossing (DRIC) study and a longtime supporter of Ontario Nature, I want to assure your readers that protection of the natural environment was key throughout the DRIC study.

The natural environment was the focus of hundreds of hours of consultation and multi-season, detailed field investigations by specialists. The resulting information was integral to the development of our final recommendations.

We understand Windsor’s rare and fragile natural environment, especially the tallgrass prairie and associated plant and animal species. From the outset, the intent was to avoid or minimize impacts on significant natural features like the Ojibway Prairie Provincial Nature Reserve. The approved plan for the Windsor-Essex Parkway [locates it] along an existing transportation corridor and avoids most of the significant natural areas of the study areas.

Protection and enhancement of tallgrass prairie habitat are key components of our restoration activities, and we are working closely with the Ministry of Natural Resources on detailed management, monitoring and habitat restoration plans. These plans are required as a part of the approval of our permits under Section 17(2)(d) of the Endangered Species Act, 2007. Through these plans we are protecting, creating and restoring hundreds of acres of habitat and enhancing linkages between natural areas.

Within the footprint of the Windsor-Essex Parkway, 100 acres of land have been identified for ecological restoration. Additional restoration areas will be created outside of the parkway property limits. Stewardship arrangements will be developed to protect restoration areas over the long term.

The Windsor-Detroit Gateway is North America’s premier international gateway and a vital trade corridor for Ontario’s economy. While we move forward with this essential infrastructure project, we will continue our efforts to protect, create and restore habitat for species at risk. Our team is hopeful that our efforts will provide an example for others who seek to balance infrastructure needs with the protection of natural features.

We invite you to visit [the Windsor-Essex Parkway website at] www.weparkway.ca for information on our measures or to learn more about the project.

Dave Wake, Manager, Planning Office, Ministry of Transportation

The bear facts

A very good friend of mine gave me a copy of the spring issue of ON Nature magazine. I would like to compliment you on one of the best articles I have read on reducing our fear of black bears – if not the best [“Why fear the bear,” page 24].

About 12 years ago I moved from Toronto to Kinmount, where I purchased a home and a 121-hectare property. Our land is a haven for many species, as we do not allow hunting of any kind.

We have black bears on our land and have never had any problems. We respect their home and have worked hard to ensure we do nothing to attract them to ours. It has been a real life lesson trying to understand the local bear hunting philosophy, in particular the belief that it is [people’s] God-given right to hunt with baited traps.

Once again, thank you for this article. I am going to send it to our local community organization and suggest that, in the next newsletter, they recommend everyone obtain the spring issue of ON Nature and read your article.

Richard Patterson, Kinmount, Ont.

More than a glorious stretch of the Niagara Escarpment, protecting Malcolm Bluff Shores is a gift for our descendents.

By Allan Britnell

Photography by Robert McCaw

Standing atop the Niagara Escarpment on the Bruce Peninsula, looking out at Colpoy’s Bay, visitors are treated to an impressive vista. From a clifftop stretch of the Bruce Trail, you can spot peregrine falcons soaring overhead and spy tiny, centuries-old cedars clinging to the dolostone rock face. Far below are the undulating swells of Georgian Bay.

It’s a glorious stretch of land – and, with your support, it should remain so in perpetuity. Earlier this year, Ontario Nature purchased the parcel, called Malcolm Bluff Shores, and plans to acquire two neighbouring plots over the next two years, which will result in the organization’s second-largest nature reserve.

“It’s pretty spectacular purely from a scenic standpoint,” says Caroline Schultz, Ontario Nature’s executive director. “But from an ecological standpoint, it’s an incredibly important property.” Located about 40 kilometres north of Owen Sound, it is part of one of the largest intact tracts of woodland on the Bruce Peninsula. The area lies along the northern extent of the Niagara Escarpment, a dramatic landscape stretching 725 kilometres from Niagara to Tobermory. Some 400 million years ago, the escarpment marked the edge of a massive inland sea. Today, it is recognized as a UNESCO World Biosphere Reserve.

A four-kilometre section of the Bruce Trail snakes along the top of the bluff that runs the length of the property, offering panoramic views of Georgian Bay and a cobble and shingle beach some 90 metres below. About five metres above the water’s edge, a plateau supports wetlands and woods. The area’s hardwood and mixed forest is large enough to support such sensitive bird species as the ovenbird, scarlet tanager and wood thrush, and at-risk species such as the Canada warbler.

One of the reserve’s unique biological features is the bonsai-like cedar forest growing on the cliff face. While conducting an assessment of a 40-metre section of the cliff in the early 1990s, researchers tallied 15 eastern white cedars that were at least 300 years old, including one 600-year-old specimen. “If a 600-year-old cedar was found in a 40-metre randomly selected chunk of cliff face, then there is a great chance there are living trees approaching 1,000 years in age in the remaining four kilometres,” says University of Guelph research associate Peter Kelly. The property is also home to the American Hart’s-tongue fern, a species of special concern that is found almost exclusively on the escarpment. (A full biological assessment will be conducted at a later date to verify the possible presence of other endangered species.)

Aside from the flora, the area displays a remarkable geological story. From the clifftops down to the beach below, the entire history of the Niagara Escarpment is evident in successive layers of dolostone and shale. “The rock is roughly 350 to 450 million years old,” says Beth Kümmling, executive director of the Bruce Trail Conservancy (BTC) and a trained geologist. “There’s 100 million years of rock exposed on the property.”

Malcolm Bluff Shores is a joint effort between Ontario Nature and BTC, two organizations with a historical tie: before becoming an independent organization, BTC originated as an Ontario Nature (then called Federation of Ontario Naturalists) committee. Today, BTC owns and maintains nearly 1,300 kilometres of hiking trails on 2,800 hectares of land.

The consortium from which Ontario Nature and BTC are buying the land initially purchased it with the intent of building cottages along the shoreline. The province’s Niagara Escarpment Plan (NEP) development restrictions thwarted that proposal but did not stop the would-be developers from logging a significant portion of the property. “We knew that we had to act as quickly as we could, because they would just continue to log,” says Schultz. One of the conditions of sale was that logging cease immediately.

Mark Carabetta, Ontario Nature’s conservation science manager, notes that the logging has already caused considerable damage. “Nothing illegal was done,” he says. “It’s an example of what can happen to a property despite the NEP protection.”

Aside from adding a barrier to restrict access to an onsite logging road and some possible restoration work to a few open areas created for timber operations, Ontario Nature and BTC will allow the terrain to regenerate naturally and are working on a plan for a management strategy. The regeneration from logging is expected to take a couple of decades. “When you’re doing conservation work, you have to take the long view,” says Carabetta. “And this property will rebound. It’s spectacular now, and it’ll be even more spectacular once the forest regenerates.”

The purchasing plan is occurring in phases. The lands that comprise the property consist of three parcels. Last March, Ontario Nature completed the $504,000 purchase of the largest of the three, a 233-hectare section at the northeast end of the property. The sale of the two remaining parcels will be finalized in 2011 and 2012 and ultimately more than 400 hectares of prime Niagara Escarpment habitat will be preserved.

At its final size of 1,045 acres (423 hectares), Malcolm Bluff Shores will be only slightly smaller than Ontario Nature’s largest nature reserve, the 471-hectare Altberg Wildlife Sanctuary in the Kawarthas. And there is always the possibility for Malcolm Bluff Shores to expand. As Carabetta points out, the Altberg Sanctuary started out as an 83-hectare bequest and reached its current size after four successive expansions.

He adds that a network of protected lands already exists near Malcolm Bluff Shores, including an Ontario Heritage Trust property and a large tract of undeveloped forest that the Chippewas of Nawash First Nation holds at neighbouring Cape Croker. The region is also linked to Ontario Nature’s early history: the organization purchased its first reserve at nearby Dorcas Bay in 1962. That property is now part of Bruce Peninsula National Park.

Once Malcolm Bluff Shores is added to the fold, Ontario Nature will own 22 nature reserves and two conservation easements, for a combined total of about 6,000 acres (2,428 hectares) of protected landscapes. While some properties are fairly remote – Lyle Island on Lake Huron is accessible only by boat, for example – all are open to the public and many of them have clearly marked parking areas, signage and well-maintained trails. “A phrase I often use is, ‘Connecting people with nature,’” says Carabetta. “It’s not just about protecting the natural features that are there, but finding ways to get people out to appreciate them without having a negative impact on them.”

A bequest from the estate of Jean Frances Schneider, the Nature Canada Sietske Germeraad Memorial Fund, and some public funding from the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources Greenlands Program paid for the purchase of the first parcel. Ontario Nature is now calling on supporters to help raise the remaining $1.5 million to complete the envisioned reserve. For more information or to get involved, visit our website, www.ontarionature.org/protectmalcolmbluffshores, or contact Ontario Nature’s director of development, Kimberley Mackenzie, at 416-444-8419, ext. 236 or kimberleym@ontarionature.org.

BUY THIS ISSUE!

Allan Britnell, a Toronto-based freelance writer and editor, is a frequent contributor to the magazine and to the Nature Watch blog on our website.

Rouge Park, North America’s largest urban park and a sanctuary for plants, animals and people, may become a national park if Ontario Nature and other groups have their say. That designation would confer greater protection on this oasis of nature located at the east end of Toronto.

The provincial government first announced the creation of Rouge Park in 1990 in response to the lobbying efforts of local communities and environmental groups. Expanded twice since, the 4,700-hectare park is nearly the size of Point Pelee, St. Lawrence Islands and Georgian Bay Islands national parks combined. It acts as a classroom, a recreation area and a refuge for the communities around the park and beyond.

Despite its urban location, Rouge Park supports a surprising abundance of wildlife: 762 plant species, 225 bird species, 55 fish species, 27 mammals and 19 reptiles and amphibians. More than 100 nationally and regionally rare species and 19 species at risk inhabit the area. The park encompasses a variety of ecosystems, including regionally and provincially significant wetlands, the land surrounding the Rouge River and the Petticoat Creek and Duffins Creek watersheds.

The Rouge Park Alliance is the advisory body that oversees the protection and management of Rouge Park. The 15-member alliance board recently took the ambitious step of unanimously supporting a proposal to establish a national park.

Should this unusually large urban wilderness park gain status as a national park, it would offer exciting opportunities to implement innovative approaches to conserving and enhancing biodiversity through environmentally friendly farming practices, restoration and stewardship. It would also invigorate efforts to expand the park to create a more robust protected landscape that would link the shores of Lake Ontario to the Oak Ridges Moraine. The park and new linkages would facilitate the movement of wildlife across green spaces, an adaptation to a changing climate. Moreover, national park status would facilitate greater accessibility and deepen connections between surrounding multicultural communities and Carolinian forests – Canada’s most endangered ecozone.

The people and communities that fought and worked so hard to establish Rouge Park have created a legacy for future generations. The next logical step being asked of Parks Canada is to build on this legacy by including the park in our country’s national parks system to ensure the best possible protection for the park into the future.

As the Deepwater Horizon oil rig disaster in the Gulf of Mexico continued to unfold throughout the summer, Canadian scientists began considering the consequences of this unprecedented environmental disaster on the bird species that depend on the gulf region as a major winter stopover and migratory pathway.

Joe Nocera, a research scientist with Ontario’s Ministry of Natural Resources and an adjunct professor in the environmental and life sciences graduate program at Trent University, watched the impact of the spill on avian wildlife with concern. Nocera’s specialty is species at risk, and he has paid particular attention in his fieldwork to the white pelican, officially listed as threatened in Ontario. Like their cousins the brown pelicans, white pelicans are in the front ranks of migratory waterbirds under dire threat from the oil leak. The list of waterbirds – in addition to songbirds, on which the potential impacts are more difficult to gauge – in harm’s way is extensive.

“I would say it’s the fish-eating birds that will experience the earliest impact,” Nocera says. “[the oil spill] will affect any waterbird species that are in the gulf as more than a migratory path. The ones that stop over and eat fish are directly in contact with the oil.” Terns, cormorants and sea ducks are the Ontario birds most likely to suffer. Sea ducks alone include a range of species, among them mergansers, eiders, buffleheads and goldeneyes. As for white pelicans, he says, “we know very little about their wintering habits. It’s fair to say some of them do winter over there.”

Birds that use the watershed or wetlands of the gulf coast region also could suffer, depending how much damage the oil leak ultimately inflicts, directly and indirectly, on those areas. “It could range to even freshwater waterfowl using coastal areas temporarily. A lot of freshwater herons would be the most noticeably affected. Not all of them winter down that far, but some do.”

The scale of the potential impact of the oil spill is unknown, but seeing how many birds return in the spring of 2011 will provide insight into its effect on a number of species. The impact, however, could play out for years. “We learned some lessons from Exxon Valdez,” Nocera says, referring to the oil tanker spill 20 years ago in Alaska’s Prince William Sound. “But this is far worse. Hydrocarbon poisoning could shut down the reproductive ability of birds. We just don’t know at this point.”

“And if the oil enters the Gulf Stream and reaches Cape Cod,” Nocera adds, “the number of affected species will grow.”

Life in the fast lane is hazardous for all species, but navigating southern Ontario’s dense network of roads takes an especially high toll on small animals, such as turtles, snakes and salamanders. Aware of the danger cars pose to the rare Jefferson salamander, the City of Burlington recently adopted an enlightened approach to making road crossings safer for the small amphibian, which Ontario’s Endangered Species Act lists as threatened.

Every year the slender salamander – whose populations are scattered throughout woodlots in Haldimand County and Halton Region, as well as some on the outskirts of Hamilton, Guelph and Kitchener-Waterloo – migrates roughly one kilometre between its wintering grounds and the vernal ponds where it breeds. The salamander almost never strays from its established migratory path. It is not uncommon for people whose homes have been built on top of the salamander’s migratory route to discover the amphibians doggedly trekking through their basements during the spring thaw. In response to the salamander’s resistance to change, Burlington city council decided to close King Road, where the salamander mortality rate is high, during the spring migration season.

“Given the small population size and [this species’] scarce and fragmented habitat and distribution, there is an opportunity here to make a positive impact by closing the road for a few hours overnight,” says Hassaan Bassit, director of communication services for Conservation Halton.

King Road is a well-travelled corridor in Burlington that runs alongside Waterdown Woods, one of only 27 known habitat areas for the Jefferson salamander in Ontario. Burlington is the first municipality to consider implementing temporary road closures to ensure that the species remains safe from high-speed traffic.

“This is good stewardship on the city’s part, and hopefully it offers a model for others to follow,” says Bassit. “Offering dry culvert crossings and occasional road closures [is] perhaps much more cost-effective than rerouting new roads. If we are to safeguard biodiversity, then we have to start exploring innovative, cost-effective steps such as this. The road closures may result in some hassle to local residents, but if we are willing to live through small, temporary discomforts for the sake of survival of other species, then there is hope for many of our local endangered species.”

I have been involved with many Ontario Nature campaigns during my 10 years on the organization’s board of directors. Looking back, I’m proud of the milestones that we have reached along the way. When the mayor of Pickering openly flouted conservation easements by selling 1,600 hectares of land to developers, we took up the cause and were able to get the easements reinstated. That was a good fight, which set an important precedent.

But I’m also aware of other issues about which we have yet to effect change. I sit on the Altona Forest Community Stewardship Committee, and I unsuccessfully pushed for a full environmental assessment of the proposed widening into a five-lane highway of a two-lane road running through Peticoke Creek, a conservation area in the Greenbelt. Not to be able to save a creek that I have known since my childhood is very frustrating. Given the widespread awareness of climate change and sustainable development, one would expect environmental impacts to carry more weight, but too often they are ignored in the rush for development.

For me, environmentalism was inspired by my uncle J. Murray Speirs and aunt Doris Speirs, both accomplished field naturalists. I still vividly remember a trip with my uncle, one of the founders of Ontario Nature and a zoologist at the University of Toronto, to examine sea lamprey, an invasive species that was killing salmon in the streams around Sault Ste. Marie. Back then, field naturalist groups were almost exclusively men. Having founded the Margaret Nice ornithological club for women, my aunt was a trailblazer, and some years later I followed in her footsteps and became a junior member of the Toronto Field Naturalists.

I initially joined the board of Ontario Nature on the recommendation of former conservation director Don Huff after I retired from covering politics and some environmental policy issues as a journalist for the Globe and Mail and the Toronto Star. Don and I worked together calling for an environmental assessment of logging in the boreal forest of the far north and a stop to the spring bear hunt.

I was compelled by Ontario Nature’s commitment to protect wildlife – not just wild places, to which many environmental organizations limit their protection efforts. The organization’s composition, which includes more than 130 member groups and representation from across the province, incorporates diverse perspectives and provides a credible, powerful voice.

Over the years, we have strongly advocated for nature while always remaining firmly rooted in good science. This is the case with our current Ring of Fire campaign, which opposes unregulated mining development that is threatening the hydrology, wildlife and habitat of the pristine James Bay Lowlands.

Ontario Nature is starting to reach out to new Canadians. Many people come to Canada interested in green space and wildlife but live in suburban “box” houses with limited access to natural places. This is a cause of nature deficit disorder, which, as Margaret Atwood explained at our Green Tea fundraising event, has profound human health ramifications.

As I step down from the board, I am acutely aware that I am leaving at a precarious time as we face the environmental menace of climate change. But I am comforted by the knowledge that Ontario Nature is well equipped for the challenge.

By Peter Gorrie

Buried treasure – copper, nickel, diamonds, chromite – lies beneath northern Ontario’s vast boreal landscape, prompting a frenzy of unchecked mining activity despite the provincial government’s two-year-old promise to safeguard half the boreal region and promote sustainable development in the other half. Will the Ring of Fire become Ontario’s tar sands?

Standing beside the metal-clad head frame of a former gold mine in the middle of the broad northern

Ontario landscape near Aroland First Nation, Andrew Megan Sr. tells me a story that, he says, took place some 70 years earlier.

His father and uncle, working their trapline, found a rock flecked with gold. The men showed the rock to a non-native prospector and, when asked, showed him where they had come upon it. In return, he gave each a pouch of tobacco.

Months passed – how many is unclear – but one day as Megan, his father, uncle and relatives sat in their bush camp, they heard a mechanical roar. They scattered as a bulldozer crashed through the trees and brush. The next year, work began on a mine that continued, off and on, until 1984. Prospectors had been exploring and staking the area for more than a decade, but the rock found by Megan’s father and uncle pinpointed a potentially rich vein of gold that spurred development of the site. Over the next four decades, a series of companies, including Osulake Mines and Consolidated

Louanna, attempted to determine the extent and value of the ore body and start operations, but the mine didn’t produce any gold for sale until near the end of its life.

Megan, now 72 and a respected elder, recounts the story to make a point he considers crucial. The events he describes are from a time when the notion that native land rights might exist beyond reserves, and that compensation should be paid for incursions into those territories, wasn’t a consideration. The mining activity, while offering some benefits, did damage he does not want repeated.

Grey-haired, slow-moving but still nimble, Megan surveys the decaying buildings, rusting fuel barrels, piles of rock and bits of metal that scar a landscape he knows intimately. He points to the black pipes that once poured water and waste through the mine’s underground tunnels to nearby O’Sullivan Lake and wonders aloud why the site wasn’t properly cleaned up and why the company was allowed to discharge contaminants that he believes decimated the lake’s pike, pickerel and trout.

Megan says he was employed at the mine, mainly as a labourer, working both above ground and as deep as 150 metres below the surface. Aroland is near Nakina, a town at the fingertip of the road that points north from Highway 11, four hours northeast of Thunder Bay. People from both communities earned a good living at this mine and another nearby that extracted iron ore. There were also jobs for loggers and in a pulp mill and railway maintenance. But during the 1980s and 1990s markets dried up and the mines and mill closed. Now, young people have nothing to do, says Megan angrily.

Recent discoveries of gold, diamonds, chromite, nickel, copper and other minerals might bring jobs back to Ontario’s northern boreal, the pristine wilderness that blankets the upper half of the province. Claim stakers and exploration teams have flocked to an area nearly twice the size of PEI known as the Ring of Fire. Aroland is south of it, but some mines might nevertheless hold job prospects for Megan’s community. “I want development,” he says, but this time, “it has to be done properly.”

Megan is right. Resource extraction on this scale – in an area covering some 10,000 square kilometres on which crowd 4,600 mining claims – must be done very, very carefully. After all, sustainable mining is, arguably, an oxymoron. Instead, the environmental impacts of this industry must be assessed in terms of thresholds and an attempt must be made to determine how much damage surrounding ecosystems can withstand before collapsing.

Ontario’s far north is a remarkable landscape that has been safeguarded by its remoteness. Not anymore. According to Queen’s Park, mining in the Ring of Fire is the fiscal solution to the north’s economic maladies, but the environmental price could be steep in this land of lakes and forests, home to at-risk woodland caribou, and short-eared owls as well as millions of migratory birds. Politicians, mining companies, environmentalists and First Nations agree, theoretically, on the importance of preserving the region’s ecological values and the rights of its inhabitants to determine what happens in their homeland. All profess a need for consultation and planning. But the frenzy of exploration and staking within the Ring of Fire reveals a wide gap between visionary statements and events on the ground that, if left unchecked, will have far-reaching consequences for all of northern Ontario. The ripple effect extends beyond our province. The area slated for destruction is a massive storehouse of carbon that would be released at a time when we are wrestling with ways to reduce emissions and would, in all likelihood, have global implications.

“How all of us think through the Ring of Fire will be a key test for the entire region,” observes Caroline Schultz, executive director of Ontario Nature. “It’s the real thing. It’s going to be pretty challenging to make it work so that everyone benefits.”

Road construction is poised to slice through a unique and biologically diverse forest-wetland complex – unless a coalition of concerned citizens can slam on the brakes in time.

By Brian Banks

A walk in the woods with lifelong botanist and teacher Martha Webber is an education in plants, trees and ecology, in natural heritage and in the art of seeing. On this day, it also offers lessons in politics and the perpetual conflict between conservation and development. We’re hiking through a protected forest within the 1,100-hectare South March Highlands, a wetland and forest complex on the northwest edge of Kanata. A 2008 environmental assessment described it as the richest area of biological diversity in greater Ottawa, but it may be the most biologically abundant in all of urban Canada. Not only are 900 hectares of the property rated “provincially significant” habitat, but it’s home to at least nine endangered or threatened species, including the Blanding’s turtle, butternut tree and American ginseng – all protected under Ontario’s endangered species legislation.

For close to an hour, Webber, local resident Kathleen Riddell and I have been walking along well-worn paths on a heavily wooded rise of rocky terrain, laced with streams, pools and beaver ponds. We’ve seen old-growth sugar maple, oak, beech, pine, cedar, buckthorn, blackberries, lily pads and reeds, myriad ferns, mosses and fungi. We’ve passed forest-floor plants with such colourful names as ladies’ tobacco, dogbane, Canada mayflower, crinkleroot, bloodroot and Solomon’s seal. Webber has been repeatedly plunging off the path into deeper greenery in search of particular specimens. She does it again. “I would expect iris, arum, jack-in-the-pulpit,” I hear her say as I follow her into the trees, fending off branches and mosquitoes. “But it’s so dry.”

Then, success: “Here,” Webber shouts. “I’ve got an arum!” She crouches down to examine the cup-like white flower growing in some damp earth. “These are no longer common,” she says. “They’re so perfect.”

Since the 1980s, Webber has led classes and tours through the patchwork of tracts that make up the 400-hectare South March Highlands Conservation Forest – the last protected, largely intact portion of this unique area. But now, those visits have taken on a new urgency. In March, the city started clearing trees to permit construction of an arcing, four-lane arterial road that will cut through the middle of the South March Highlands, effectively slicing the forest in two. To stop it, Webber has joined with fellow area residents and interested experts to form the Coalition to Protect the South March Highlands.

They may already be too late. Some 500 metres from where we’re standing on this late May afternoon, bulldozers are cutting a swath through the trees. The city has also started dumping what is expected eventually to be 45,000 cubic metres of fill atop the Carp River flood plain, which the four-kilometre roadway – known as the Terry Fox Drive extension – will transect. Blasting and roadbed construction will follow. The city is on a tight schedule – the federal government’s stimulus program, which is funding two-thirds of the project’s $48-million budget, requires that all work be completed by March.

By the time you read this, the coalition’s worst fears may have been realized. As of Canada Day, the route had been cleared and the filling and blasting were nearly complete. More clearcutting was slated to begin south of the new road in late July, (though, as of press time, city demands for additional mitigation measures meant that work had been temporarily halted) this time by two development companies that got approval back in 2005 from the Ontario Municipal Board (OMB) to build 3,200 housing units on land within the highlands but outside the conservation forest.

Marianne Wilkinson, city councillor for the local ward, opposed the new subdivisions before the OMB in hopes of preserving the natural environment. But she is a staunch defender of the road. Without it, she says, a community of 100,000 people has only one north-south route, March Road. She also stresses that the new road has little to do with the new housing development. “Terry Fox Drive extension is more needed for the development that already exists in the north end of Kanata North and for the rural areas,” she says.

Despite the environmental sensitivity of the area, Wilkinson reiterates the city’s position that the project has all the required approvals: environmental assessments were done years ago. More recently, the province approved the city’s plans to accommodate threatened species and the federal government signed off – a go-ahead that fast-tracked environmental assessments for all stimulus projects.

In theory, the remainder of the forest will be protected. But numerous experts agree that cutting the reserve in two, displacing wetlands for the roadbed and introducing more traffic, more development and more people into the area threaten local species and will degrade the resource over time. Earlier this year, Ron Brooks, the chief turtle scientist with the Committee on the Status of Endangered Wildlife in Canada, warned that collisions with vehicles on the new road could wipe out remaining Blanding’s turtles. The city’s chief mitigation measures – installing fencing along the new road and building several culverts beneath it to provide safe pathways between wetland areas – are insufficient, according to the project’s opponents. Paul Renaud, a coalition spokesperson, says no scientific evidence exists proving that turtles use the tunnels. “The decision to put a road through the middle of a conservation forest and cut down old-growth trees in order to do that is absurd,” he says.

Ottawa’s own forests and greenspace advisory committee agrees. In April, it passed a unanimous motion asking the city council to put construction on hold and to order a more thorough environmental review. A second city committee was due to rule on the motion in early summer; if approved there, the motion could go to city council for a vote.

The road’s opponents weren’t waiting for that. In late June, members of the coalition took the city to court, requesting a judicial review of its decision to start work. While there seem to be numerous arguments the group could have used to contend that the city is violating the spirit of provincial and federal environmental rules, the coalition chose what it hopes will be the quickest route – basing its case on a technicality. Specifically, the coalition is arguing that the city relied on an outdated environmental assessment to build the road. The coalition also claims that several substantial changes made to the project since the last assessment should require a new appraisal.

A lack of court space in Ottawa forced the parties to book a mid-September date in a Toronto court. Any ruling that halts or delays construction could be enough to kill the road project, given the tight timeline associated with the federal stimulus funding. “The forest will recover if we halt this now,” says Renaud.

Even as the drama plays out, the question arises: how could things come to this? Beyond the specifics of the struggle in Ottawa, the situation underlines important concerns about the protection provided to wetlands, as well as endangered and threatened species, across the province.

In the case of Terry Fox Drive, some form of extension had been on the planning books for years but was not slated for construction before 2014. Critics say it won’t be needed even then, that widening and improving a rough, pre-existing two-lane road through the area could meet local residents’ needs. Yet, in 2008, the planning department moved up the potential date of development to between 2009 and 2015. “It was because of the traffic on March Road,” says Wilkinson. There have been a number of accidents that have closed all or part of the road, “and nobody could get through.” The arrival of federal stimulus money in 2009 convinced the city to move construction up yet again.

Coalition spokesman Renaud, a former executive in the city’s tech sector, counters that the council is locked in a “20th-century” mindset. “Every city is pressured by growth to some extent,” he says. “But they’re also pressured for sustainability, controlling greenhouse gas emissions and all those good things. In the 21st century, we need a balance between the two.”

In such situations, provincial measures for species and habitat protection should curb the plans of ambitious cities. But things are not always that simple. In the South March Highlands, the species listed as endangered or threatened – and therefore protected under Ontario’s Endangered Species Act – are victims of bad timing, says Amber Cowie, Greenway Program manager at Ontario Nature. While the act, which took effect in 2008, mandates protection both for species and their habitat, there is a five-year lag before the habitat protection provisions kick in. Until then, says Cowie, “species themselves can’t be killed, but their habitat could be damaged.”

The only way that time lag can be shortened is if the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources (MNR) produces an official recovery strategy for a species, but that is unlikely, given that MNR has a considerable backlog of work.

Critics say underfunding at MNR is also a factor in the level of protection afforded wetlands in the province. The province’s current system of preserving wetlands starts with an assessment that assigns them a score based on their overall ecological significance. Everything that scores above a certain threshold is deemed “provincially significant” and worthy of saving. While it’s a good system, says Mark Carabetta, Ontario Nature’s conservation science manager, there is a backlog here as well. “Probably a lot of wetlands out there would be provincially significant, but they’ve never been assessed,” he says.

Wetlands are not just critical habitat. They also help regulate air temperature, store water for watersheds, help control flooding and act as filtering systems to remove contaminants from the water. Considerable research shows that investing in wetland protection can be far cheaper than repairing flood damage or phosphorus contamination from agricultural runoff after the fact.

Wetlands are also in serious, long-term decline. According to a recent Ducks Unlimited report, 72 percent of all wetlands in southern Ontario were destroyed between 1800 and 2002.

Given such extensive loss, Carabetta believes it would be prudent to try to protect all surviving wetlands immediately, including the 114 hectares of that precious habitat within the South March Highlands. “So many species on the endangered species list are wetland dependent at some stage of their life cycle – whether it’s any of the turtles, the Jefferson salamander, ribbon snakes or a number of birds,” he says. “When you consider that 72 percent loss figure, you can start to understand why those species have become so rare.”

Back in Kanata, the battle over the road will probably continue for some time. A loss in court in September would be a big setback for the coalition’s bid to stop construction, but Renaud insists that the group would continue fighting. “Any opportunity where permits need to be approved or whatever, we’re there,” he says. “From a recovery standpoint, until the area gets paved, it’s always recoverable, right?”

Webber echoes a similar resolve as our afternoon hike on the property draws to a close. Here and there she points out little protected niches and crevices where “endangered things can hold on and survive.” As if to underline the point, we come upon a large turtle in a small stream as we cross a tiny footbridge taking us out of the forest. The animal is not the elusive Blanding’s but a snapping turtle, another at-risk wetlands species. We make a bit of noise to tell the turtle we are here, but other than slightly cocking its head, it gives no indication it knows or cares about our presence.

If the new road goes through, and with it come more people and development, this turtle – as well as all the other plants and animals inhabiting this rare urban wilderness – will find the intrusions considerably harder to ignore.

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Brian Banks is a Toronto-based writer and editor specializing in nature and conservation, climate change, environmental economics and sustainability. He is the former editor of Financial Post Magazine.

Our fifth annual writing contest for kids was a bit different this year. In addition to requesting essays about nature, we asked for artwork submissions, realizing that a picture can indeed be worth a thousand words. As in previous years, we were enormously impressed by the wealth of talented writers – and artists – among the Grade 7 and 8 students who entered the competition in response to the topic “Wild species and wild spaces: why biodiversity is important to me.” Through their writing and drawing, the winners showed us how much they care about our planet, how concerned they are about its degradation and how aware they are that we depend on a landscape that can support healthy and diverse ecosystems. We continue to look to them – the next generation of environmental leaders – for inspiration and hope.

The winning artists and writers received their awards at Ontario Nature’s first Youth Summit for Biodiversity. We deeply appreciate the support of the Toronto Field Naturalists (TFN) in sponsoring five participants at our summit. TFN has been promoting a love of nature in Toronto for nearly 90 years. This Ontario Nature member group stimulates public interest in natural history and works to protect and enhance Toronto’s ravines, parks and waterfront.

We also gratefully acknowledge the generous support of the Ontario Trillium Foundation and Mountain Equipment Co-op.

First Place: Sensing change

By Spencer McGregor

The noises are all intertwined. I hear trees swaying in the breeze, a bullfrog’s low croak by the water’s edge. An angry squirrel is chattering above me. Far off I hear the call of a moose. There are birds singing all around me.

Suddenly, I’m in a different place. The noises are deafening. I hear an airplane screaming past above me, I hear cars roaring by on a nearby highway. Up and down the street, I can hear doors shutting and the loud, yelling voices of people. I stand there listening. I can’t hear even one natural sound.

I’m standing in the forest again. I look around me – everything is breathtaking. I see a towering pine beside me, shafts of sunlight streaming down from between the gaps in its needles. I see the birds flitting from tree to tree. I hear a splash and turn around to see a beaver swimming towards its den. Everything here has an amazing beauty to it. I could stay here forever.

But again I’m in the city, drained of colour and life, the complete opposite of the forest. I look around me and see skyscrapers towering high over everything, blocking out the sun. I see the people, running around from place to place, always in a hurry. I hear a splash and look behind me. Somebody has thrown a plastic cup into a puddle on the sidewalk. What a horrible place! I want to run from here and never return. I close my eyes, trying to get away.

When I open them, I’m in the forest and I start to notice things I hadn’t noticed before. I take a deep breath through my nose. I can smell everything in the forest. I can smell the pungent rotting wood all around me and the skunky smell of a marsh close by. I can smell the trees, the sweet, tangy smell of pine needles. The forest is alive with rich, interesting smells.

I take another breath and almost choke. I’m in the city again. The stench is overpowering. I can smell the noxious fumes of the cars and factories everywhere. I can smell the chemicals, the toxic chemicals washing away into the storm drains unnoticed. I can’t stand it. My eyes start to water, the fumes burning them. How can anyone live like this, in this cloud of burning smog?

I return to the forest once more. I fall to my knees, grateful for the fresh air, clean water and vibrant colour all around me. I start walking, trying to get away from the memories of the city. I walk and walk and, eventually, far away I hear something, something unnatural. I go faster, moving towards it. When I finally get there, I’m horrified by what I see. Chainsaws ripping through trees, stumps everywhere, sawdust darkening the air, animals running to get to safety. I run to a worker to ask what’s happening. I’m crushed by what he says. I stand there motionless, unbelieving, until he shoos me away. “Go on, now, and have fun in the forest,” he says, “it won’t be here much longer.”

Second Place: A jewel of Ontario

By Alison Griffith

I am the blood and heartbeat of diverse life. Tall, majestic giants worthy of praise and young saplings of birch, oak, poplar, maple, fir and pine drink and thrive in my rich soil. Babbling bodies of water dance on my skin with sheer elegance.

Feathered grasses and frolicking wildflowers rely on my existence for life. Creatures great and small, all of equal importance, know life in my serene world, under my lush canopy, a true home.

I am always a grand symphony of sound. The wind breathes, cries and chants enchanting music. The birds seem to sing with pride. The tree spirits always chatter the most interesting things, and the tinkling waters and rainbows of angelic sunlight answer with glee.

On the afternoons of autumn I rival the splashing beauty of a vibrant tapestry. I am an alien fairyland of gold, crimson and orange, sparkling under the grins of sunlight and crisp, airy breaths.

In the tired light of spring, I am an enchanted wood of fair shades and mystical perfumes. I am brimming with new, essential lives waiting to add to my beauty.

On the clear, distant nights of gentle summer, crystals of icy stars shimmer above me and the wind woman’s whispering breaths flow through me, as my creatures whimper and cry out in solitary delight.

On the shivering mornings of winter, veils of golden sunlight send a delicate glimmer on the diamonds of snow resting on me. I am chilly in body, loving in spirit.

I bear the delicious pleasures of sugary syrups and plentiful, scrumptious summertime berries, worth more than the most precious jewels. They provide my creatures with the means of survival. I hold the power to cure ailments with my many barks and herbs of wonder.

I am uniquely beautiful and a magical, compassionate world on my own. I am a free spirit and a shimmering jewel of the earth. I give air and habitat, as well as a special sense of freedom, to my residents and visitors. I am irreplaceable.

I am an Ontario forest. I fear that someday the calls of the wind will no longer rustle through me, that my birds will cease to sing and the creatures not scamper over my nourishing earth, that my wonders will go from me. I worry that someday my calming and truly natural world will vanish, at the mercy of cruel development.

I am endangered and essential to life. I must be able to mother the creatures and tree spirits. You cannot exist without my existence. Biodiversity is truly the most wonderful thing of all and needs to remain a part of life on earth.

Third Place: The seed

By Tiana Colantonio

The elder birds are always telling us young birds, “Be grateful for what you have. You are very lucky to have a home and a family!” I was curious to know why. Today, my grandfather, Abram, who was sick and dying, would tell me everything.

“When I was only seven,” he began, “the greatest storm in history occurred right here on this island.” My talons clawed nervously as he spoke. Grandfather described the cracking sounds of the trees as they were stuck by lightning and how the flames from the trees were noticeable from miles away.
Fires roared across the entire forest. I pictured every scene in my mind, from the shrieking animals to the rising smoke and the last falling tree. Only my grandfather and a few other animals survived. I interrupted his story with a question. “Why do we need different types of animals?” He sighed and replied, “Oh, how little you know. Biodiversity, which means having many plants and animals in an ecosystem, is what has made us survive this long. When the forest fire occurred, there wasn’t enough biodiversity to support animal life on this island. Believe it or not, every species has a different role in the environment. For example, let’s say the mosquito became extinct. Then what would the dragonflies have to eat? They too would disappear and the same would happen to other species in their food chain until the entire food chain was extinct. With biodiversity, animals would have a better chance of avoiding extinction, because there would be different types of animals to consume. This is why biodiversity is so essential. Understand?” I nodded my head slowly as I realized the importance of what he said. He continued his story by describing how he built a nest in the ruins and had to go to bed hungry and alone that night. “As I lay in the nest, I thought that my agony would last forever. The forest looked bleak. But deep within me there was hope.”

“How to save the forest came to me in a dream,” my grandfather said proudly. I listened attentively as he described his dream of finding a magic seed in a foreign place. In his dream, he planted the seed and instantly a tree began to grow. Then more trees grew around him to form a new forest. Birds of all types made their homes in the trees. Bees, squirrels, raccoons, foxes and other forest creatures appeared. It was a wonderful sight.

My poor grandfather whimpered as he continued. “Oh, my dear granddaughter! The effort it took to convince myself to find the seed… But I knew it was my destiny.” Filled with adrenalin, my grandfather went in search of the magical seed. He soared over many islands looking for any distinguishing features. Soon he recognized the enormous tree from his dream. It was located in the middle of a lush forest on a small island. Abram noticed how great the biodiversity was on this island. There was a glow near the large tree and he thought that it might be where he could find the seed from his dream. “The flight was exhausting. And when I reached the tree there was no seed in sight. Then suddenly, there was a blinding flash of light and, to my amazement, a seed appeared in my beak! It began to rain, and memories of the forest fire flashed in my mind. My heart began to beat faster as I remembered my parents’ screams from the fire. I returned to our island, pushing those thoughts out of my mind.” I was weeping as he told the story, but my grandfather did not flinch. He continued, “I planted the seed and our island was transformed!” Within minutes, the forest grew green with trees. Flowers bloomed and animals of all sizes came. Birds filled the sky. Life happened miraculously. “I had fulfilled my destiny.” His voice trailed off as he finished the sentence, and his eyes slowly closed. He was only able to mutter his words, but he left me that day with a mission: to cherish and take care of life on our island.