As you bite into a juicy peach this summer, thank Niagara. The southern Ontario region grows more than half of Canada’s tender fruits: more than 70 per cent of our peaches, plus many fragrant baskets of nectarines, plums, pears, cherries, grapes and apricots. 

Despite the bounty, climate change is taking a toll. Sour cherries took the hit this year, the industry group Ontario Tender Fruit says, with the crop all but wiped out by a cold winter and late frost. A summer of extreme heat and smoky skies have made farm work difficult, even dangerous. As weather becomes more intense and erratic, harvests across the country become unpredictable, too. 

Jay Subramanian’s job is to tackle that uncertainty. The University of Guelph professor works at the Vineland Research & Innovation Centre in Niagara, combining modern genetics and age-old techniques to develop futuristic tender fruit. Right now, he’s trying to breed peaches that last longer, both before and after being picked. In the orchard, growers could spare workers a day of harvest during extreme heat. At home, we’d have an extra day to enjoy them, reducing food waste. 

The process for breeding flowering plants is centuries old. First, you identify varieties with different desirable qualities. Then, you take pollen from “variety X,” as Subramanian puts it, and paste it onto the stigma — the sticky tip of the flower — of “variety Y.” Then, you see what grows. If the fruits of his labour bear the desired qualities, he consults a panel to make sure the new variety also has the right “colour, shape, taste, everything that is appealing.” 

Bringing a new variety to the public takes years. 

The market value of Ontario’s tender fruit was more than $94 million in 2025, and that figure doesn’t account for the wider industry around it. Yet Subramanian says finding money to protect it isn’t easy. The only recent government funding for developing climate-resilient tender fruit varieties in the province — from data collection and research to education and breeding — was slightly more than $1 million from the federal government. And that was two years ago. 

This lack of support, he says, is one reason the country’s crop of fruit breeders is shrinking.

“We used to have like 10 people or 12 people in Canada when I joined,” Subramanian, who was born in India, says. “Now it has gone down to four. And if any of us retire, the writing is on the wall. That has to change. That has to come not from us, not from the university. It has to come from somewhere above.”

This conversation has been edited for length and clarity. 

How are Ontario’s peach crops being affected by climate change? 

Jay Subramanian: I joined this job not too long ago — 24 years, but it’s not a very long period in crop evolution and things like that. Then, the first peaches here were harvested in the last week of July. [This year], we are already starting to see peaches ripen on July 10 — almost a three-week advancement within three decades.

That tells you how alarming the situation is in terms of climate change. Neither the breeder nor the marketing people nor the consumer can put something on the calendar like our parents or grandparents used to do — ‘Okay, this week I am going to get peaches from the farmers’ market and then do canning in my home.’ That’s all out of whack. 

[This July] we had temperatures crossing almost 33 C, 34 C, and that’s also not good. When you go and look at the fruits, they are all burnt, as if they were just taken out of a barbecue on the top. It is that bad.

When I say the effects of climate change, I mean unpredictable and extreme weather, such as early or late frost, extreme heat, drought or too much rain. Today in mid-July in Toronto, it’s incredibly smoky because of fires up north. Is there anything I’m missing?

Another thing is our winters are not predictable anymore. Sometimes we have enough snow on the ground so that the groundwater is all filled up and the plants kind of muscle up during the winter. Sometimes we don’t get that. We just get a smattering of snow here and there and then we don’t have enough groundwater. That is also causing decline and unpredictability to the tender fruit crops.

What does this mean for you, as a breeder and a scientist? What is your day-to-day when you’re trying to make these fruits as climate-resilient as you can?

Just to back up, tender fruit breeding is a very long process. The varieties that we release now were bred 25 years ago. So I have to have a vision or a crystal ball to know what is going to happen — 25 years from now, what is going to happen? That is just not possible. 

Looking at what is going to happen, how we are going to breed, that is going to be challenging. But we are also contributing to global warming and climate change. When you have produce like tender fruits going to a landfill, they emanate quite a bit of methane and nitrous oxide when they are rotting. Nitrous oxide takes six times longer than a carbon molecule to get settled down back in the earth, so it is going to be up there in the atmosphere for much longer.  

We are trying to breed varieties that would stay better so that it doesn’t go to the landfill, varieties of tender fruits that will remain on the shelf and in the consumer’s house for two or three days extra. Twenty to 30 per cent of produce is wasted by the consumer. That is the part that I can control within my career, within my lifetime. 

On the front end, an early peach that is ripening now, or a late peach that’s going to ripen in September, they all flower at the same time. They all flower within that two-week window in May. But then, from flowering to fruit maturity, that time for some is short. For some, it is long. 

So we are trying to work on that one: if it flowers on day X, it is going to ripen 70 days after flowering. This part as a geneticist, as a breeder, we can control. It’s a long process, but that is doable by using modern genetics. It is a slow and patient study, but I’d be more than happy to take the initiative on that because I’m the only one left in Canada.

You’re the only what left in Canada?

Only tender fruit breeder, only peach breeder left in Canada. If I retire, R.I.P. for this position.

How did that happen?

That’s a good question. Almost all through the world, for any publicly funded research program, they are looking at the industry to support this breeding. If you take a place like California, yes, their industry is huge — by even getting something like five cents from an agricultural check-off fund, they can support like five scientists. Certain crops, like corn, soybean, canola, wheat, these are huge industries. It’s easy. It’s possible. 

But our industry here is just very, very tiny. It is a very vital industry because we supply more than 50 per cent of tender fruits for Canada from this tiny little bowl in the south corner of Ontario. So that value is something people in power have to recognize.

In terms of the science, can you say a bit more? You want more control over the ripening process?

Well, ripening is a very long scientific process. Over the past 75 years, there’s quite a bit of study that has gone into the ripening process, how it is managed, what are all the genes involved and all those things. Using genetics, we can either accelerate it or we can delay it. That part we can do by breeding.

We know the genetics, we know what variety X can do, what variety Y can do, what we expect when we hybridize X and Y, things like that. If we take varieties that are ripening early, and if we put that pollen on the flowers that are ripening late, can we get something in-between? 

Along with ripening, I assume you’re also working, for example, on trees that are more resilient if there’s too much rain, or not enough rain.

To some extent, we can control that part by genetics. Another thing that we are working on is to make sure the varieties that we develop are resistant to some of the diseases. We are in Niagara, and the place is normally rainy and humid, and this is a heaven for pathogens like fungus and bacteria to grow. Especially when they see the fruits — fruit is full of sugar — and then they just go kaboom after that. 

By breeding varieties that are naturally resistant, we are also reducing the number of sprays that a farmer has to do. In that way, you can also help reduce climate change effects, because the operation of the machine, the pesticides themselves, all those things contribute to climate change. 

Is there a success that you’ve had in your career worth highlighting?

It’s a little bit early, but I think I have enough conviction to say that we are now developing a new series of peaches that can stay a little longer on the tree, on the shelf, as well as on the consumer table. Significantly longer, and they still taste very much like the normal peach. In fact, some of them are much sweeter. 

Probably in the next five, six years, we will be releasing varieties belonging to that particular group. Some of the press people call them the ‘neat peach.’

I personally really love a messy peach, though. I feel like that’s part of the peach experience. 

That is because we are here [in southern Ontario]. We are spoiled with the good stuff.

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Steven Guilbeault has had enough. 

Yesterday, the former Liberal environment minister announced his plan to resign his seat this summer after seven years in government. 

It wasn’t a surprise. Rumours of Guilbeault’s resignation began almost as soon as Mark Carney won the Liberal leadership — and immediately killed the consumer carbon price. It’s seemed inevitable since November, when Carney and Alberta Premier Danielle Smith formally announced they were trying for a new pipeline and Guilbeault left cabinet. Now, some seven months later, Guilbeault is resigning altogether, with a letter including a long list of killed or threatened climate policies. 

His exit marks the end of an era for Canadian environmental aspirations. It’s a sign that big government promises to protect the planet are no longer being made, let alone fulfilled — but not that the battle is over.

Turning Guilbeault from a grassroots activist into a politician was a Liberal score back in 2019. The Justin Trudeau government was taking heat for buying the Trans Mountain pipeline, and Guilbeault was a Quebecois environmental hero who had spent years at Greenpeace before co-founding Équiterre. As Guilbeault recalled during his House of Commons farewell, it was hard to believe such a fierce fossil fuel foe would be happy in the most mainstream of parties.

Guilbeault and Trudeau agreed to disagree on Trans Mountain, and to work together on emissions reduction and environmental protections everywhere else. At the time, The Narwhal called him a “radical pragmatist” having a go at changing the system from the inside. He had some success and said, “I’m not angry,” as he walked down Parliament Hill yesterday. Still, it’s been clear for a while that he gave up more idealism than he intended.

Another Canadian voice for the environment also just decided that — to paraphrase feminist philosopher Audre Lorde — the master’s tools will never reduce the master’s emissions. On May 21, the activist group Investors for Paris Compliance announced it was winding down, after five years testing “whether investor pressure could meaningfully enforce corporate net-zero commitments” in Canada. 

The group’s sincere, nerdy goal was to use financial levers to influence banks, insurers and fossil fuel companies to pursue emissions reduction. It argued companies were failing clients by not accurately disclosing the risks climate change posed to their investments. Using tactics like shareholder proposals, regulatory complaints and old-fashioned engagement, the group encouraged its targets to make those risks public, then work to minimize them.

The pitch was that reducing greenhouse gases in order to limit global warming and its exacerbation of extreme weather events would protect not just people and the planet, but profits.

The sad takeaway is, as Investors for Paris Compliance said this week, “This approach only works at the margins.” It also had wins, including a $20-billion commitment made by National Bank to finance renewables projects. The immensity of the climate crisis means such small victories aren’t enough. 

“Investor accountability, in the absence of regulatory change or legal consequences, is not sufficient to deliver net-zero outcomes or to manage climate risk at the system level,” its final report concluded. 

But Guilbeault’s departure shows tougher regulation or enforcement aren’t just unlikely in Canada right now — they’re off the table. Prime Minister Carney’s words might say he’s “moving forward on climate action,” but his actual actions include weakening environmental assessment laws to pave the way for souped-up resource extraction. 

The landscape looks bleak for those dreaming of systemic emissions reductions efforts in Canada, but Guilbeault says he’s not done with his life’s environmental work. And whether he’s into it or not, Carney’s environmental efforts can’t be over, either.

Guilbeault wasn’t alone in criticism of Carney’s climate policy

Criticism of Carney’s approach to environmental policy is easy to find. Indigenous leaders were vocally opposed to fast-tracking legislation from the get-go. Last month, 14 Liberals sent a letter to the prime minister stating they were “deeply concerned” that pursuing a pipeline to appease Alberta means “the government’s credibility will be seriously compromised.”

Investors for Paris Compliance called Carney out, too. Its sunsetting report invoked his dramatic 2015 speech as Bank of England head, the one where he labelled markets’ short-term focus a “tragedy of the horizon” that failed to properly consider the long-term financial risks posed by climate-fuelled disasters.

For over a decade, this was hailed as a succinct and clear-eyed take, palatable to both people that love coldwater salmon and people that love cold, hard cash. It became a tent pole for the motley coalition that awarded Carney with Canada’s highest elected office after his very first political race. Now, many who put their faith in the money guy promising both climate action and profit are accusing him of dumping his Values the first time he hit a resource extraction road block.

A more generous reading is that Carney also attempted to save the planet from inside the system. When that didn’t go as planned, he found himself out of ideas. Before reading the Investors for Paris Compliance report I had already forgotten about Carney’s pre-politics pet project, the Glasgow Financial Alliance for Net Zero, a brief romance between the global banking system and efforts to slow global warming that kicked off in 2021.

At the time, Carney was UN Special Envoy for Climate, as well as head of “transition investing” at Brookfield. His star power helped grow the alliance to more than 120 banks. It was a hopeful time. It also met immediate, organized resistance. In the U.S., the activist investors recount, “Republican Attorneys General threatened members of the alliance with ‘collusion,’ complete with boycott lists for bidding on state business.” 

Membership plummeted after the 2024 U.S. election, including the January 2025 exodus of Canada’s five biggest banks. Last August, the alliance “paused” its activities. Within months, Carney was a pipeline guy. Unlike, say, Audre Lorde, he hasn’t shown the grit for genuine struggle. 

This bird’s eye perspective puts Canada’s environmental regression in context. Our fast-tracking, dealmaking and Treaty Rights-ignoring is part of a global backslide of climate policy and environmental action. And these violations of our right to clean air, water, land and food are part of a bigger wave of official and unofficial violations of human rights.

We are at the crest of a backlash, one crashing toward a literally scorched earth. 

During Guilbeault’s goodbye, both supporters and detractors recalled his 30-year environmental career, including his youthful radicalism. A Bloc MP reminisced about his 2001 unfurling of the Greenpeace banner after a renegade CN Tower climb, before calling him the “best, most ambitious environment minister this country had ever known.” A Conservative MP invoked his 2002 arrest for scaling the Alberta premier’s house to install solar panels, before denouncing policies Guilbeault supported. 

The CPC MP’s list included criticism for Carney for the policies still standing. At least one — the carbon price for industry — is already endangered by Carney and Smith’s dealmaking. The others, including the oil tanker ban in coastal B.C. waters and the limits on single-use plastics, are clearly in the crosshairs of the industries in question, as well as those who want their donations and votes. 

For Carney, realizing the strength of the forces aligned against systemic change has led him to abandon efforts to bank environmental cred, lest someone lose actual money. But he’s not Canada’s CEO, he’s the prime minister and that’s a more complicated job — abdicating his climate responsibilities is not acceptable. 

After a wave crashes, the ocean rises again. While the most pragmatic radicals are abandoning money guy visions for the environment, the soon-to-be-former Montreal MP and Investors for Paris Compliance also promised to keep swimming. After “a little break,” the investor activists aim to come back with “accountability mechanisms that match the scale of the challenge.” Reading between the syllables, that sounds a little spicy. 

As for Guilbeault, “I will continue my battle for a greener, safer planet — outside of this House, but I will continue,” he said yesterday. 

It’s one thing to put down the master’s tools and another to leave the master’s house. Neither is a promise to stop trying to dismantle it.

— With files from Carl Meyer

The Narwhal’s reporters are telling environment stories you won’t read about anywhere else. Stay in the loop by signing up for our free weekly dose of independent journalism.

Climate change is making life more expensive. Droughts and unpredictable temperatures affect farming and food security, while heat waves drive up utility bills and floods cause insurance to spike. Meanwhile, the gap between Canada’s highest- and lowest-income households hit a record high last year — making these costs harder for some to bear than others. 

The oil and gas industry is Canada’s largest emitter of the heat-trapping greenhouse gases that cause global warming and everything that comes with it. Here’s a look at which Canadian workers profit off activities that cause climate change — and who gets paid to cope with it.

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The Narwhal’s reporters are telling environment stories you won’t read about anywhere else. Stay in the loop by signing up for our free weekly dose of independent journalism.

If you’re a podcast listener with big feelings, then you’re a fan of Heavyweight. In which case, we have great news: it’s back! A new season debuts Sept. 18, after a near two-year break caused by Spotify’s silly cancellation of its smartest shows. Host Jonathan Goldstein will once again be diving into guests’ emotional lives, helping them gently pull apart painful incidents or relationships, then put themselves back together again. 

While the former host of CBC’s Wiretap has lived in Chicago, New York City and now Minneapolis, his parents and many close friends remain in his childhood home of Montreal. As he told us, he’s “such a city guy,” but he’s ready to change that — at least a little, now that he’s morphed from a childless Brooklynite into a Midwestern dad. 

Here’s what Goldstein had to say about his relationship with the natural world when we asked him to take our Moose Questionnaire. 

This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity. All opinions are the subjects’ own.

What’s the most awe-inspiring natural sight you’ve witnessed between the Pacific, Atlantic, 49th parallel and Hudson Bay, i.e. Canada? 

Niagara Falls. The Canadian side. The money side. The filet of the falls.

What’s the most awe-inspiring natural sight you’ve witnessed outside of Canada? 

Our child being born. It happened in a Manhattan hospital. My wife was very brave.

Think of three iconic Canadian animals. Choose one each to kiss, marry and kill. 

Kiss: Just a platonic kiss on the cheek? A beaver. With tongue? A salmon.

Marry: Being married to a salmon would be demanding — what with the spawning upstream. But at our wedding reception we’d have free salmon roe to eat.

Kill: Canadian salmon roe.

Outdoor cats: yes or no?

I wouldn’t personally feel comfortable owning an outdoor cat. I’d always be worried about it.

Yes, you have to choose: Rocky Mountains or Great Lakes? 

To stare at, the Rocky Mountains. To swim in, the Great Lakes.

Researchers at Yale University, the France-based Women’s Forum for the Economy and Society and other institutions have found women tend to be more concerned about climate change than men. Why do you think that is?

This is a sad piece of news. Maybe it’s because little boys are raised to want to conquer the world, not nurture it. Also, in general, they seem to enjoy sci-fi more than women do, so maybe they think rocket ships will save us.

If you could dip a toe off Canada’s coastline, which ocean would it be in?

Either one as long as it’s near a boardwalk that serves pizza.

What’s a beautiful or useful thing you’ve owned for a really long time?

It isn’t especially beautiful, but I always take my Sony mini-recorder with me whenever I make a reporting trip.

What’s the farthest north you’ve ever been and what did you do there?

The Boundary Waters between Ontario and Minnesota. While everyone went canoeing, I stayed in my room and read comics.

What’s one way you interact with the natural world on a daily basis?

I walk my dog.

Yes, you have to choose: smoked salmon or maple syrup?

I think you know the answer to that one.

Would you rather be invited to visit David and Victoria Beckham at their Muskoka, Ont., cottage, or Harry and Meghan Sussex at their B.C. oceanic escape?

Either way, I’d politely decline. I like my own space.

Camping: yes or no?

I don’t come from camping stock and fear getting mauled by a bear and how stupid I’d look getting mauled by a bear, but I want my son to be a camper, so I’ll be tent shopping pretty soon.

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Talk about a Canadian celebrity lineup — no, not Will Arnett or Cobie Smulders, although they’re cool, too. But neither is as nationally beloved as the characters they voice for the goofy animated series Super Team Canada: a past-his-prime hockey player and an anthropomorphized Niagara Falls, two members of a gang of C-list superheroes tasked with saving humanity. 

The series, which has been renewed for a second season, was created by brothers Rob and Joel H. Cohen, who grew up in Calgary and moved to Los Angeles to pursue their television dreams. Having achieved a lineup of Emmy awards, the Cohens felt it was time to work together on a Canadian project. What they came up with was a team of highly mediocre heroes teaming up to fight low-ambition bad guys set on committing low-stakes crimes, like raiding a maple syrup reserve or unleashing evil Wayne Gretzky clones. 

The short episodes are highly unserious and full of inside jokes — in one episode, the problem at hand is Canadian bureaucracy — and star Arnett, Smulders and Kids in the Hall’s Kevin McDonald, along with some up-and-comers. It’s co-produced by Vancouver animation studio Atomic Cartoons and Bell’s Crave network, as well as Arnett’s Electric Avenue. 

The Narwhal caught up with the Cohens for the Moose Questionnaire, to learn about their enduring love of the Rocky Mountains and other ways they appreciate the natural world.

This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity. All opinions are the subjects’ own.

What is the most awe-inspiring natural sight that you have seen in Canada?

Rob: I would say it’s a tie, quite honestly. Niagara Falls, I think, is incredible. And where we grew up in Banff. I just think the Canadian Rockies and the foothills going into the Rockies are one of the greatest things on the planet.

Joel: I’m sure many of your other interviewees have said the same thing — the northern lights. I used to work a lot at a summer camp that was a little remote and a little bit north, and I would see the northern lights almost every night and it was never disappointing. Five out of five stars on Yelp for the northern lights.

And what is the most awe-inspiring sight you’ve seen outside of Canada?

Joel: Only because it’s first to mind, I’ve been to Joshua Tree National Park, and it’s spectacular. I’ve never seen a Joshua tree anywhere but there.

Rob: When I was in Kenya, we went into this valley that was a crater, and [there were] animals naturally walking around. You could also see Lake Victoria and that, I remember, just made a huge impact because of what’s going on around you. But you also realize — this is the cradle of civilization. You’re standing right in the middle of it. So it was pretty impressive.

Choose three iconic Canadian animals and pick one each to kiss, marry and kill.

Rob: There’s no question that I want to marry a loon. I would love to wake up to that sound. I would kiss a grizzly, just because it’s always going to be exciting. And what was the third one? Kill? I have to say gophers, just because they tore up our neighborhood as children.

Joel: One time I was driving in Lethbridge — it’s as glamorous as it sounds — and I saw this incredibly fat porcupine waddling across the road. I am going to choose that same porcupine for all three of those: kiss, marry, kill. That defines our relationship over time. I pulled over, we got talking. One thing led to another. And then the killing [was] a gentle mercy kill at the end of its life. It was full of tears. We had a wonderful relationship.

Name a person or group doing something meaningful for the environment that everyone should know about.

Joel: There’s a group I really like in L.A. called Heal the Bay. The ocean here is so horribly, disgustingly polluted and these people, all volunteers, try not only to do what they can to help heal the bay, but also are really good about publishing grades for different parts of the ocean. So if you’re going to take your kids to the beach, you know which part of the coastline is healthy.

Rob: My answer is slightly weird, but I actually think Parks Canada as an entity does a really, really good job taking care of the Canadian environment. I’ve been impressed whenever I’ve spoken to anybody that works for Parks Canada, just the diverse terrain Canada has, and they’re all seemingly experts at it. So I was very impressed with them.

Name a person or group that could help mitigate the climate crisis if they really wanted to.

Rob: Well, obviously any world leaders, like the current occupant of the White House, the prime minister of Canada. Any of the legit world leaders are the ones that could absolutely do it. I would also say corporate leaders, but there’s too much disinterest or corruption, which is sad.

Joel: Mine’s the same. But I’ll just say, we have such a giant — particularly in the U.S. — billionaire class. There’s lots of horrible things they can address their attention to, but the environment is certainly one of them. If they really wanted to, people could.

Outdoor cats. Yes or no?

Joel: I don’t believe in cats. I’ve yet to see a cat, and if I did, I would consider it some sort of dog in disguise. I don’t think they exist, nor should they.

Tell us about a time that you changed your mind about something. It can be environmental, but it doesn’t have to.

Rob: I would say I changed my mind about wind farms, because I didn’t think that they were going to generate that much power or really be that functional. And now I’m a big fan, no pun intended. I think they’re great. Especially in countries like Canada, where you have these huge, craggy, windy areas, why not use them to maximize generating electricity?

Tell us about a time that you tried to change someone else’s mind about something.

Rob: I was writing on a show years ago, and had been there for months, and a guy found out I was Canadian, and had an actual meltdown and thought I was a spy because I seemed American. He thought that I had been infiltrating the United States and I had to convince him that we were basically like Americans, but not exactly, and that made things worse. So I just gave up, because he was clearly too stupid to talk to. But I tried.

You have to choose. Rocky Mountains or Great Lakes?

Rob: Easy, Rocky Mountains.

Joel: I agree, Rocky Mountains. But I do tip my hat to the guys in marketing for calling them the Great Lakes. I mean, they’re good lakes. But I just like the boldness of declaring them Great Lakes. Whoever made that choice, I respect the choice.

Researchers at Yale University, the France-based Women’s Forum for the Economy and Society and other institutions have found women tend to be more concerned about climate change than men. Why do you think that is?

Joel: I have two daughters that are young women. They’re very concerned, but then I just attribute it to their generation. Rob, your son seems to be pretty hip to the environment and conscious of recycling and the value of it. I hope it’s more generational than gender-based, but at least somebody’s concerned.

If you could dip a toe off of Canada’s coastline, what ocean would you pick?

Joel: Pacific. There’s no question.

Rob: I would say the Pacific. But I’m going to add that when I have done that in Nova Scotia, I just thought it was incredible. Thank God I have two toes, so I’ll say both. But if I have to pick one, it’s the Pacific.

What’s a beautiful or useful thing that you’ve owned for a long time?

Joel: Does it have to be a physical possession? I’ll say memory. How about that? That’s very esoteric. It’s nice to be able to remember things you’ve seen, places you’ve been. 

Rob: A very beat-up tape measure that our dad gave me as a kid that is incredibly, incredibly small, but it’s come in handy over the decades.

What is the farthest north that you’ve ever been, and what did you do there?

Joel: I was once in Fort McMurray. I was working at this summer camp, which I referred to earlier, and we had to go pick up our boats at a dealership there. So I drove up there to get the boats. I think that’s the furthest north I’ve ever been.

What is one way you interact with the natural world on a daily basis?

Joel: I’m a big hiker. We’ve had these horrible fires in L.A. that you might have heard of. [They] really changed the face of all these wonderful, amazing hiking areas. But, normally, I would hike four times a week in the Santa Monica Mountains. There are really amazing trails, even some waterfalls, little creeks. So that was something I used to do, and would love to do again once those come back.

Rob: Yeah, when I walk the dog, there’s some great hikes. They go deep, deep, deep into cactus fields and weird water reserves built in the 1920s. I try to do that a couple times a day. The dog is irritating, so I will take the dog out and try to burn her out.

If you could ask one person, alive or dead, their thoughts on climate change, who would it be?

Joel: I’d love to ask somebody like 100 years in the future to tell us how they solved it. Or they live in a hellscape of nothing because we didn’t solve it. But I’d love to know what the future is in that sense.

Rob: I think somebody like Einstein would be an interesting person to speak to, even though that was not their specialty, just sort of using their brain on a problem that is seemingly easily resolved. I think that would be a great conversation.

Another choice. Smoked salmon or maple syrup?

Rob: That’s a tough one. I would pick smoked salmon because I could eat more of it without feeling sleepy.

Joel: I feel like there’s giant smoked salmon lobbies and maple syrup mafias that are going to lead to bad results from this. But I’m going to go maple syrup. I feel like maple syrup has got more diversity to it, and you could pour it on everything. I think you could always use your maple syrup, whereas smoked salmon — there’s going to be some times you don’t want the smoked salmon.

Who in your life has had the greatest impact on your connection to nature?

Rob: I would actually say our son, because living in L.A. it’s very challenging to find some nice, clean patches of nature. So, especially during COVID, we would just try to find anything we could to introduce him to it.

Joel: Shocking Rob, I might say our mother. She, for whatever reason, chose to live in all these weird small towns in B.C. [such as] Chemainus [and] Sooke. Her forcing us to go to those places to visit her, and then you consequently get to see places, Crofton or Salt Spring Island, which I didn’t really know and have since really come to love. She’s just opened up a lot of those worlds by chasing her wherever she’s living on the globe.

Whose relationship with the natural world would you most like to have an impact on?

Joel: I’d say my kids. One of my daughters is less willing to go for a hike, but my other daughter is very willing to go for a hike. But I would love to expand their viewpoint and just make them feel more comfortable. Not that they’re uncomfortable or scared, but I wish they just felt more adventurous sometimes to go explore the natural world. 

Rob: I don’t know if it counts as a person, but I would love to force the United Nations to go as an entity, some amazing place every six months that is a natural wonder that’s threatened, and then say, “Don’t blow it.” And then, “What are you guys going to do to fix it?” I think that is the only way to really help the global problem.

Would you rather be invited to visit David and Victoria Beckham at their Muskoka, Ont., cottage, or Harry and Meghan Sussex at their B.C. oceanic escape?

Joel: I think they’d both be fine. I just think the company might be a little bit better with the Beckhams, for my tastes, than Harry and Megan. And luckily enough, we’ve been to both those areas, and actually are going to Muskoka again this summer. So we certainly know Muskoka, but I’m going to choose to hang out with David Beckham over Harry and Meghan.

Rob: I agree.

Camping. Yes or no?

Joel: As a concept, yes. Sure, I’m down. Let’s do it.

Rob: Yeah, camping is great. I haven’t done it in a long time, but I love it. And I don’t know if they still make it, but there’s nothing better than heating up one of those disgusting chickens in a can and then getting rid of it, because you know it’s poisonous. I just love the feeling.

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“Eh, we’re humble Canadians,” is how chef Michael Smith sums up the response from Prince Edward Island’s fishermen when he first began raving about their bluefin tuna catch. The American-born chef has been to Sweden, Tanzania and everywhere in between — and he genuinely believes Canada’s tiniest province has some of the world’s most delicious foods. 

But, he says, it took him a while to convince the farmers, fishers and others who harvested its bounty of how special it was. He first landed on the island 35 years ago, and since then has made it his life’s work to persuade them. 

“Sometimes we need an outside perspective to see our very best,” Smith says. “Changing people’s minds on the interesting value of what’s around me here on Prince Edward Island has instinctively been a part of my approach here for 35 years.” 

Today, Smith and his wife own The Inn at Bay Fortune, where he was a young cook all those years ago. Its menu is highly Island-centric, featuring local catch, food grown on the on-site farm and treats picked wild from the land around it. “We’re one of just a handful of restaurants in North America with a full-time forager,” Smith says. Both his latest TV show, Chef on Fire, and cookbook, Wood, Fire & Smoke, celebrate another passion he gets to practice at the inn: cooking over an open flame.

Here’s what Smith had to share about his relationship with the natural world when he sat down to take our Moose Questionnaire. 

This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity. 

What’s the most awe-inspiring natural sight you’ve witnessed between the Pacific, Atlantic, 49th parallel and Hudson Bay, i.e. Canada?

I think just getting out on the land around me, on Prince Edward Island. I’ve had the opportunity to travel Canada. I’ve seen the mountains. I’ve seen the Prairies. I stood in the Prairies for the first time and felt like the weight of the continent was on my shoulders in this incredibly visceral way. But I come home, and time and time again, it’s Prince Edward Island. It’s those first glimpses as you dip below the flowers of the quilt — the patchwork quilt of the island. I know this island. I know it inside and out. So when I see it at a distance, I see all that time spent exploring every little corner around me. For me, awe-inspiring is not just this thing that you look at from a distance.

What’s the most awe-inspiring natural site you’ve witnessed outside of Canada?

New Zealand, Tasmania and the Southern Ocean. That feeling of sailing out of Hobart, Tasmania, heading into the great unknown. It’s the only place on the planet where the wind blows unimpeded, completely around the globe. That was pretty awe-inspiring.

Think of three iconic Canadian animals. Choose one each to kiss, marry and kill.

Golly. Well, I guess I would kiss a beaver, marry a fox and kill a bluefin tuna to celebrate.

Name a person or a group doing something meaningful for the environment that everyone should know about.

The good people at the Souris watershed group, the advocacy group for the watersheds in my community. Any of the small advocacy groups that exist around all of us in every community in Canada. They’re not always the big ones that are all well-funded and have a presence. They tend to be just good people that are genuinely concerned with a particular part of the environment around them. Here in eastern Prince Edward Island, the watershed folks are just so committed, and they’ve done such good work. They’ve restored so many of the streams around us and natural habitats. It’s just a joy to see that kind of understanding and connection with a shared environment.

Name one person who could significantly help mitigate the climate crisis if they wanted to.

Hmm, all of us? Our politicians. Everyone. I mean, that’s low-hanging fruit. We all need to do a better job. This idea that somebody else needs to do a better job is where we get stuck and nothing gets done. Every one of us needs to take personal responsibility. 

Outdoor cats, yes or no?

One of the four. Coco’s outdoor, but Nimbus and Delphine and Aurora stay inside. Coco’s nine years old and she always went out, so now it’s like, “Oh, go on.” She comes back, and she leaves us little treasures by the door. She seems to do just fine out there.

Tell us about a time you changed your mind about something, environmental or otherwise.

I’ve changed my mind on organic. Once upon a time, [I saw it as] a shining light on the hill, and now I understand it as barely a starting line. It’s a word, a label. It’s regulated. I don’t trust it, and instead, advocate for what we do on our farm every single day. The culinary farm at The Inn on Bay Fortune is legendary for our sustainable, regenerative agriculture. We’re 10 years in and it’s just crazy how alive our soil is.

When have you tried to change someone else’s mind about something, environmental or otherwise?

I think helping artisan producers around me understand their role in a global economy. I’m not taking credit, but I was very much a part of helping, for instance, local fishermen understand the real value of a bluefin tuna and how they might change their practices to accentuate that value. And other fishery stories. All of them from this place of, “Eh, we’re humble Canadians”: sometimes we need an outside perspective to see our very best. Changing people’s minds on the interesting value of what’s around me here on Prince Edward Island I think has instinctively been a part of my approach here for 35 years.

Rocky Mountains or Great Lakes?

You know, I love looking at the Rocky Mountains, but I’m a sailor at heart, so I’d take 30 knots out of the north any day.

Researchers at Yale University, the France-based Women’s Forum for the Economy and Society and other institutions have found women tend to be more concerned about climate change than men. Why do you think that is?

Because women seem to be just more connected with Mother Earth, and more open to the idea that there’s this thing at our feet that’s alive, that’s with us, and that maybe it’s not just something we should be getting some benefit out of. I mean, obviously it’s a loaded question, and there’s a bunch of different ways I could answer it, but I do believe, through my own personal experience, that women in our society often have an easier time expressing their creativity and their empathy.

If you could dip a toe off Canada’s coastline, which ocean would it be in?

Well, I’ve swum in the Pacific, I’ve swum all over the Atlantic, but I’ve never swum in the Arctic. I guess I would go with a nice raging bonfire on the shore ready to rip and then a quick plunge in the Arctic.

What is the farthest north that you’ve ever been? And what did you do there?

I’ve been to Iqaluit, here in Canada, and I’ve been a little bit farther north in Sweden.

In Iqaluit, I spent some time with Indigenous communities, looking at food traditions and how they might use those in a tourism sense and develop authentic products to share with the world. Iqaluit’s a pretty fascinating place. For me it always feels a bit like just scratching the surface, coming in and out over a few days. A week or so here or there really isn’t living or feeling it, but it is certainly among the coolest places I’ve ever been on planet Earth.

What is a beautiful or useful thing you’ve owned for a really long time?

My Joy of Cooking, a cookbook that I’ve had for 40 years. It’s bound now with duct tape. It’s stuffed with notes and ideas and postcards and random bits and bobs from a long cooking career. It’s got every bit of the how, the why. It’s something special. It’s a book I think about a lot when I write my own books and try to emulate the storytelling of it.

What’s one way that you interact with the natural world on a daily basis?

I’m blessed to interact with the natural world on a daily basis. I’m blessed to be surrounded by a team of people that interact daily through our culinary farm — how we connect it to our kitchen, how our cooks participate daily on the farm, the foraging that we do. I’ve already been down this morning to a stream nearby, to gather the day’s watercress for our salad bowl tonight. That connection to the land and to the environment grounds me, and I know it grounds the people around me and makes us the best versions of ourselves.

Who in your life has had the biggest impact on your connection to nature?

I think my mom really gave me the “get up and go, get outside.” All of that time spent running wild as a kid in the woods, making sailboats on the lake and stuff — every bit of that made me the man I am. [It was] her love of nature. My mom, for sure.

Whose relationship with nature would you like to have an impact on?

My kids. And all the young chefs I work with. [I’d like to help] them connect meaningfully to the environment here on Prince Edward Island and see the stories behind our ingredients, and go to sea for a day and fish some lobster, and get in a boat and go get oysters and meet every farmer in sight … That’s what I hope to do.

If you could ask one person, alive or dead, their thoughts on climate change, who would it be?

I think I would want to go back in time and ask somebody, like, “What the f*ck, dude, why weren’t you paying attention and why didn’t you take action?” In the last 100 years all of this was known, all of this was seen, and it was just that sort of Victorian ethos of, “More and more and more for us, us, us — damn the engines, full speed ahead.” Here we are, all these years later, and look at us now.

Smoked salmon or maple syrup?

Oh, smoked salmon all the way! Just before we started chatting, I lit my smokehouse for the day. I chose applewood from our property. I’m smoking a salmon, I believe, from Nova Scotia. That is as sustainable as it could possibly be. [But I also] love my maple syrup. I often cure salmon with maple syrup.

Would you rather be invited to Victoria and David Beckham’s Muskoka cottage, or Harry and Meghan Sussex’s B.C. escape?

Neither. I would go with, “Hey, come see my joint,” and whoever comes, there’s my pick.

Camping, yes or no?

Absolutely. Camp, camp, camp. Get outside. Stay.

Enjoying the Moose Questionnaire? Read more from the series here.

The Narwhal’s reporters are telling environment stories you won’t read about anywhere else. Stay in the loop by signing up for our free weekly dose of independent journalism.

I used to hate cold weather. I spent years dreading the full stretch between September and May. I despised itchy layers, foggy glasses and early sunsets, and had blizzard nightmares year-round, even in August. But this August, as months of extreme heat in southern Ontario finally ease off, it’s the sun I once longed for that has me depressed. 

This summer has been a bummer. All of my family’s regular camping and cottage trips were marked by the warming world. On one, oppressive heat made sleeping impossible. On another, a friend found a tick — an increasingly common pest that can carry disease — on his kid. A fire ban has taken roasted marshmallows off the menu of a third trip, but at least it’s going ahead now that a wildfire in the Kawartha Lakes is under control. As the smoke travelled over to my home in Toronto, I wondered whether a good parent would send their child to the couch instead of an outdoor camp, a question I’ve asked myself before. 

There’s no escaping the fact that my once-favourite season has become a health hazard. I tried to stay grateful navigating it all, given what others are facing. From Vancouver Island, B.C., to Annapolis County, N.S., one community after another faced wildfire evacuations this summer — at least 12,000 households in Manitoba alone. Meanwhile, I still got to swim in three Great Lakes: Huron, Ontario and Erie, the last full of waves that had my kid shrieking with delight. 

Summers in Canada are on track to be even less fun — hotter, smokier, more dangerous — unless we do something about it. I’m grateful that every day, people across Canada and globally are working to turn this nightmare around. Many are dreaming of a world where our great-grandchildren can have summers that feel carefree again, even if today’s kids have to check the lake for toxic blue-green algae before diving in. The sadness that brings is inescapable, but lately I’ve been thinking it’s time to push it aside and tap into anger instead. 

In Juice, novelist Tim Winton focuses his rage on the architects of climate change 

In May, it was already 30 C in Calgary, where Narwhal reporter Drew Anderson lives. As we discussed the inaccuracy of calling any temperature “unseasonable” anymore, Drew mentioned his obsession with the novel Juice, by the Australian author Tim Winton. It’s a futuristic climate dystopia, which I wouldn’t usually read given how much time I already spend staring into that particular abyss. Drew insisted that’s exactly why Juice would be cathartic. 

The book’s narrator has always lived on a sweltering planet, where the only way to survive summer is to stay underground in the dark. Yet Winton’s anti-hero isn’t initially despairing. Like any child, he experiences his life as normal, because it’s all he knows. Then, as a young adult, his worldview shatters. He learns that the world used to be different — greener, bluer, cooler, friendlier — and that fossil fuel barons knowingly destroyed it. 

He also learns their descendants live in hidden luxury, scattered across secret, air-conditioned bunkers in the farthest reaches of the burning planet. As his disbelief turns to fury, he’s offered a chance at revenge. The invite is to join a secretive force that roots out the progeny of those who ruined life for everyone else — and kills them. 

Drew was right. Winton’s fictional assassinations were a satisfying emotional release. The author called the novel an outlet for his “grief and rage” and the nightmare he paints is one I share. In Juice, there are barely any plants or wildlife. There’s barely any society, just individuals and small families eking out survival, their skin scarred from third-degree sunburns. As they march through deserts to find their targets, the vigilantes keep their energy up by chanting the names of the corporations that built fortunes big enough to allow generations to hide from accountability: “Aramco, Gazprom, Exxon!” 

All stifling summer, I’ve been thinking about that laser-sharp focus. Oil and gas executives are not now, and have never been, unaware they are actively victimizing billions of people. The bunkers Winton imagines are not imaginary: those that profit off of human suffering are well aware it pisses people off, so much that alleged CEO assassin Luigi Mangione became a heartthrob outlaw last year. Celebrating death is ugly, but so is purposefully ignoring it. British Columbia saw at least 600 deaths linked to extreme heat in 2021 alone. If we know the cause yet don’t prevent it, that sounds a bit like murder, too. 

Climate action for everyone: start talking about it

As billionaires prepare for a boiling planet, the rest of us have to as well. That starts with acknowledging that global warming is here, now, already stealing our chances to enjoy the natural beauty Canada says it’s so proud of. We have to adapt quickly and fairly. We have to work hard to make it stop.

Time and again, polls show the majority of people in this country want climate action. Yes, there are real differences of opinion about what those actions should be. That means there’s a way for everyone to join in — step one, as atmospheric scientist Katharine Hayhoe says, is to actually start talking to each other about the reality of what we’re all experiencing.

If we spoke our fears out loud, we’d overcome how isolated they make us. We’d also realize there’s a lot of agreement about what to do. For example: most people agree that companies should shell out to clean up their own mess, whether abandoned oil and gas wells on farmlands or all the carbon in the sky. Climate change is expensive enough, so it’s confusing why governments make taxpayers subsidize that cleanup while businesses prioritize multimillion-dollar salaries ahead of desperately needed changes their customers are actively asking for. I have heard enough about fiduciary duties to shareholders — those are pretend, while our moral duty to other human beings is real.How silly it was of me to resent winter. How ignorant, to dismiss nature’s need to quietly regenerate, to incubate seeds for the plants that clean the air and build up the snowpack that used to stave off drought. By the time I became determined to appreciate snowy days, they began to disappear. Now, the root of my winter sadness is that it isn’t cold or wet enough. 

But I’m also trying to take a cue from the fires burning across the whole wide world: they’re raging and maybe we should be, too. If anger doesn’t drive you, then try love — for all the living beings on our wounded, beautiful home.

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One rainy September day in 2008, Bill Redelmeier found a large salmon on the driveway of the vineyard he had opened that summer. The property is just 10 kilometres from Lake Ontario in Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ont., and the fish had likely ended up in a storm-water ditch as it swam up a creek to spawn.

“If a salmon can come up river, all of the pollutants can go down river,” Redelmeier remembers thinking. The travelling fish reinforced his vision: to transform his grape farm into a place that gave more to the land around it than it took.

Today, Southbrook Organic Vineyards is planted with not just vines, but milkweed to attract pollinators and native plants to prevent soil erosion. Those same wildflowers and grasses line the drainage ditch to make what’s called a bio-swale, filtering storm-water so that by the time it makes it back to the lake, it’s actually drinkable.

That’s just one way Redelmeier’s dream has become a reality. This year, the vineyard became Canada’s first “triple crown” winery, adding regenerative certification to its organic and biodynamic designations. The difference, Redelmeier says, starts with the soil.

“Because we’re pushing the price of agricultural products down, farming has become extractive, almost like mining.” A focus on big yields has caused a loss of organic matter in the soil, he says, which reduces fertility. Regenerative farming aims to reverse that.

Redelmeier grew up on a farm just an hour’s drive from downtown Toronto. He’s worried about food sovereignty for decades, as pavement increasingly covers places in southern Ontario that used to grow things we can eat. He’s also concerned with the bigger picture.

“It’s talking about people as well. We have to be able to certify that everybody who works for us makes more than a living wage,” he says.

Here’s what else he had to say about his relationship with the natural world in our Moose Questionnaire.

This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity. All opinions are the subject’s own.

What’s the most awe-inspiring natural sight you’ve witnessed between the Pacific, Atlantic, 49th parallel and Hudson Bay, i.e. Canada?

We as Canadians tend to look down on Niagara Falls, and in most cases I do, but there is one spot on the boardwalk where you’re standing five feet away from the brink of Niagara Falls. You see the water rushing faster and faster towards you, and then it just disappears.

We assume that Niagara Falls is really loud — the crashing waters. But that’s when the water lands, not when it goes over the edge. It’s almost a silent video of this huge amount of water disappearing, and because you’re right next to the falls, you’re not seeing all the people, all the tackiness, all the tawdriness of Niagara Falls.

What is the most awe-inspiring natural sight you’ve seen outside of Canada?

My wife and I were lucky enough, back just before our kids were born 35 years ago, to go to Mount Everest on the Tibet side. Almost everybody goes to the Nepal side.

It’s dirty, it’s messy, it’s crowded, but at that point, they had just reopened it. We were with a group who had summited it a couple of years earlier, and were invited by the Chinese government to have a walking expedition. So we walked up to about 21,000 feet [6,400 metres], standing on the slopes of Mount Everest. I have a picture of me standing there, slightly woozy, but with Mount Everest behind me.

Think of three iconic Canadian animals and choose one each to kiss, marry and kill.

Even though our philosophy is that we don’t try and kill anything, but try and get them not to bother us as much, the kill is the mosquito. I’ve been married for 47 years, and I think I would like to remarry my wife — she’s an iconic Canadian. Kiss? I was going to say narwhal, but I’m not sure that’s really the right one.

Name a person or group doing something meaningful for the environment that you think everyone should know about.

Gavin Pitchford and the Clean 50, which awards leaders in sustainability across Canada. It’s a fairly large group of alumni, of which we are one. We got our award because we were turning winery waste pumice into a high-antioxidant food supplement called bioflavia.

It’s just inspiring to see all the different things. The most exciting part of it is they’re picking people under 30 as well. So future leaders, future entrepreneurs.

Who is a person or group you think could help mitigate the climate crisis if they really wanted to?

Well, I mean the obvious one, Mr. Trump. But he doesn’t want to, so it’s a trite answer and not a very satisfying one.

I think anybody — everybody — can and should. It’s not one change that’s going to solve all of the problems. It’s 1,000, it’s 100, it’s one or two little changes that everybody needs to make. And that’s really the important thing.

As we’ve found, every time we think we’ve solved a huge number of problems, it creates extra problems. One hundred years ago, 75 years ago, the pesticide DDT was looked at as the magic bullet to kill all of the mosquitoes, not just the ones I want to kill. But there’s ramifications.

Everything is so related that it has to be 100 little things as opposed to one big thing. We as environmentalists keep hoping there is a single magic bullet that is going to fix all of the problems. And there isn’t. It’s a whole bunch of small things.

Outdoor cats, yes or no?

Yes, but only if they’re neutered.

Tell us about a time that you changed your mind about something, environmental or otherwise.

I’m not going to have anything specific, but travel. The more you travel, the more you see the way other people do things. If you’re at home and comfortable, you expect everybody else to change. But if you’re travelling, you’re discovering new people and you’re accepting. 

I mean, there are some people that travel and expect everything to stay the same as well. But especially when you’re young, if you’re travelling, you’re starting to learn about other people. You’re learning that you’re not correct on everything. That, to me, is the most important thing.

Tell us about a time you tried to change someone else’s mind about something, environmental or otherwise.

I’m trying to do it all the time. When you come and visit the winery, we have a green map outside showing about 25 different small things. We’re talking about bat boxes. Things like our solar power, which we’re replacing 85 per cent of our total annual electrical use with. The bio-swales, which handle all the surface runoff [from the property] and clean it before it gets back to Lake Ontario. Wildflowers and pollinators, kestrel houses and a whole bunch of little things we’re doing. 

You don’t want everything to go so fast people get to the destination before they realize they’re on the road. So the green map is there as a speed bump to force people to stop before they come in. Ideally they look at some of the things we’re doing and will also copy some of those ideas. It gets people in the mindset of what is possible. We’re always trying to change everybody’s mind.

Rocky Mountains or Great Lakes?

Great Lakes, because the effect of the Great Lakes is larger for a larger number of people. I mean, we’re in a watershed of, what, 100 million-ish? Whereas the Rockies, they’re gorgeous, and I love the mountains, but it’s more of a solitary thing.

Researchers at Yale University, the France-based Women’s Forum for the Economy and Society and other institutions have found women tend to be more concerned about climate change than men. Why do you think that is?

I’m not sure how to clean this one up, but because they don’t think with their dicks.

If you could dip a toe off Canada’s coastline, which ocean would it be in?

Arctic.

What’s a beautiful or useful thing you’ve owned for a really long time?

When I was about 10, my mother gave me her father’s dresser, and I still use it every day. I think of her and I think of my grandfather. He passed before I was born, but I love the heritage of it and the fact that it hasn’t gone into the landfill in the last 125 years. And I hope it will not go into the landfill. It’s useful, and it’s well made enough. It’s been repaired a few times, but it’s still beautiful.

What is the farthest north that you’ve ever been? What did you do there?

Tuktoyaktuk, and I regret not dipping my toe. I did put my hand in the water.

I was on a trip with my father when I was about 19. I drove him to Dawson City, and then ran into a friend of my brothers who was leading a group going up to Aklavik and Tuk. This would have been ‘72. During the Canada-Russia hockey series. 

We were talking to the principal of the local school, and he said, ‘Well, we do take days off when somebody sees a whale and everybody goes and tries to catch it.’ It was just such a different idea. We went into a pingo. They’re sort of frozen dimples on the earth. They’d made a curling rink, and it was being used as a communal freezer. It was just so different from what we had been seeing in southern Canada.

If you could ask one person alive or dead their thoughts on climate change, who would it be?

I would love to sit down and have a relaxed evening with David Suzuki. I’ve heard him speak — he’s incredibly moving and he’s a wonderful speaker. But I’d love to have that one-on-one conversation and just ask him where he’s coming from. I think we’re similar ages and similar generations, and I’d love to talk to him.

Smoked salmon, or maple syrup?

Maple syrup. Not only do I like maple syrup better, my first job off the farm as a 12-year-old was making maple syrup up in Thornhill. 

It comes back to food sovereignty. I’m not a huge fan of farming salmon and wild salmon is wonderful but threatened, and so has to be managed properly, but a properly managed sugar bush? The bush I was working in had been in the same family since 1804. This would have been in the ‘60s. So it had been managed by the same family on a long-term basis. 

That’s the way we have to manage farming, soil, that sort of thing. It has to be on a long-term basis, as opposed to a short-term basis. That’s what regenerative farming is all about. So actually maple syrup is a really good example of that.

Who in your life has had the greatest impact on your connection to nature?

It was my mother. She was a botanist and a geographer, and both of those led to a love of nature. She had to identify everything, and usually in Latin. She was one of the founders of the Richmond Hill Naturalists Club, which gave us an opportunity to explore on a more directed basis. 

As kids, we were out in the forest and stuff like that. But it wasn’t just wandering around. It was identifying. I still find that one of my joys is driving through farmland and just thinking, ‘Why does everything look the way it does? Why do we have lilacs there?’ Well, that’s because chances are there used to be a farmhouse there. Yeah, so that was certainly my mother.

Would you rather be invited to Victoria and David Beckham’s Muskoka cottage, or Harry and Meghan Sussex’s B.C. escape?

Muskoka. We grew up with a cottage in Muskoka. I love it, but I’m not sure I like it as much now as I used to. 

I was invited to one of my old high school classmates’ cottages a couple of weeks ago, on Lake Muskoka. It was interesting driving around in the boat, looking at the settlement patterns. In about 1970, cottages changed, so anything prior to 1970 was lots of small rooms, but the most important part was screened porches. And then around 1970, all of a sudden, everybody put central air conditioning in when they were building cottages. The windows are smaller, the rooms are larger, but there’s fewer rooms because you’re not inviting as many people and there’s no more screen porch. It just doesn’t appeal. 

The old joke was, if you owned a lawn mower, it was no longer a cottage. And now there’s more toys in Muskoka, and I don’t think people are outside.

Camping, yes or no?

Camping for those that want it, and certainly for kids. 

I remember at four or five years old, I would go up to a camp in Haliburton where we canoe-tripped. It was a wonderful upbringing. For a lot of people, it creates that relationship with the outside that will last forever. If you’re growing up and you never have the opportunity to go camping, then you don’t care if Ontario Premier Doug Ford wipes out a whole bunch of areas. But if you’ve been there, even if it’s years ago, you now are invested in that area. You’re more likely to jump up and down and say, ‘No, I don’t want that area destroyed.’

The Narwhal’s reporters are telling environment stories you won’t read about anywhere else. Stay in the loop by signing up for our free weekly dose of independent journalism.

Many people are interested in what Maryaam Lewis-Herbert has to say about the stars. Otherwise known as ShawtyAstrology, she’s built a serious following for her explanations of how the sky and its celestial bodies affect us all down here on Earth. 

Lewis-Herbert has done celebrity birth chart assessments that go viral and advised multi-platinum pianist Tony Ann on his astrologically influenced album, 360°. While her head is often above the clouds, she’s also a grounded nature lover, one who’s interested in the connection between our planet and others. 

Saturn and Mercury are the ones that matter most, she says. The ringed planet governs forests and agriculture, she says, while the little red one represents plants, including herbs. 

“Think of your herbal teas and all the things that we can utilize, cooking wise, to improve our health — Mercury is very connected with that,” she says. “Mercury is very connected with environmentalists as well.” It also affects our communication style, and Lewis-Herbert says one of her goals is to find ways to talk with those who don’t value environmental protection the way she does, in the hopes of bringing them alongside. 

Here’s what else the Toronto astrologer had to say when she sat down to take our Moose Questionnaire. 

This interview has been condensed and edited for length and clarity — all opinions are the subject’s own.

What’s the most awe-inspiring natural sight you’ve witnessed between the Pacific, Atlantic, 49th parallel and Hudson Bay, i.e. Canada?

Haliburton in Ontario. When I go up there for cottage season, it’s so beautiful and peaceful up there. It’s so serene and the waters are so blue. I just love being out there. It’s exceptionally gorgeous.

What is the most awe-inspiring natural sight that you’ve seen outside of Canada? 

Probably the farmlands that I saw in Rotterdam when I went to the Netherlands back in 2019. Just being out there made me feel exceptionally free and liberated. It was really majestic to see all the farm animals and a different side to agriculture, in a different part of the world. 

Think of three iconic Canadian animals and choose one each to kiss, marry and kill.

I think maybe I’d kiss a mallard duck. I think ducks are very cute. 

I’d marry a deer. One time, I was at the park, and I was walking on a trail and I saw a deer hop right in front of me. I thought it was the most incredible thing ever.

If I had to pick anything to kill, maybe some kind of fish, like some kind of salmon. I’m only saying that because I’m allergic, so I guess that’s the part of me that wishes I could eat seafood. Not in real life, though, just kidding around.

Name a person or a group doing something meaningful for the environment that you think everyone should know about. 

The Toronto Green Community is a fantastic organization that helps a lot with maintaining biodiversity, reducing waste and helping the environment in the city to be more clean and safer for everyone.

Tell us about a time that you changed your mind about something, environmental or otherwise.

I do change my mind on my hair colour. For my 26th birthday, I decided that I wanted to pay homage to nature and trees. So I went from wanting to dye my hair purple to a foresty green color. I went to the park wearing this very floral dress that had foliage on it. I felt very connected to the environment. It just felt really connected to who I am as a person. 

Tell us about a time you tried to change someone else’s mind about something, environmental or otherwise. 

No shade to any of these people, but people that litter. You can just take a little bit of time to recycle and put stuff where it belongs. Sometimes you’ll go to the park and you’ll see trash around and you’re just like, come on, guys, we can all do a little bit better. Enjoy the scenery, but pick up after yourself, right?

Definitely encouraging people to pick up their litter and recycle more and to be more mindful of their environmental decisions. I know that we can’t force people to do these things. I try to be encouraging in a mindful way.

Researchers at Yale University, the France-based Women’s Forum for the Economy and Society and other institutions have found women tend to be more concerned about climate change than men. Why do you think that is?  

From an astrological perspective, it’s really interesting. The moon in astrology represents women or people with feminine energy, and it’s also very connected with the weather and the tide, the cycles and everything. So, I feel like women or people that just have feminine energy tend to be a little bit more empathetic towards things outside of themselves. 

Not saying that men aren’t. But from an astrological perspective, I can understand why women have this connection to Mother Earth. 

If you could dip a toe off Canada’s coastline, which ocean would it be in?

I would choose the Pacific Ocean, specifically when the sun is directly above where the Tropic of Cancer runs through the Pacific. That happens during the summer solstice, which is the first day of summer. The Tropic of Cancer is very connected with the zodiacal constellation of Cancer. 

Cancer energy is connected with emotional security, nurturing, feeling safe, feeling protected. So maybe there are sea creatures in that portion of the ocean that tend to be more gentle or more nurturing, or we as humans might have more of a connection to those creatures. 

What’s a beautiful or useful thing that you’ve owned for a really long time?

My Canon T5. I’m a really big advocate for photography, especially nature photography. 

What’s one way you interact with the natural world on a daily basis?

Going for walks, especially in the summertime and in the spring, going for bike rides. There’s a pond close to where I live and I like to go there and look at the ducks and just be around that kind of energy. It’s very relaxing. I always leave feeling very refreshed and rejuvenated. 

Also having picnics too, especially in the summertime with my friends. We always make sure to clean up after we’re done.

Rocky Mountains or Great Lakes?

Great Lakes. I appreciate the mountains — I think they’re majestic and beautiful — but I am afraid of heights. 

If you could ask someone alive or dead their thoughts on climate change, who would it be? 

David Suzuki. He’s a Canadian icon. He’s built such an incredible legacy for himself and I feel like having a conversation about where he feels the environment is headed in the next 10 or 20 years would be insightful.

Smoked salmon or maple syrup?

Maple syrup, absolutely. I actually have a really big bottle of maple syrup right now in my kitchen. After this conversation, I might have some.

Who in your life has had the greatest impact on your connection to nature?

Definitely my best friend, Christine. She lives up north and being able to go visit her feels like such a healthy form of escapism. She’s introduced me to so many amazing places. We went to the Wye Marsh, which is a conservation centre in Midland, Ont., and we were able to see so many different creatures. I got to see turtles and an owl and vast, vast amounts of land around us. We went in the winter and it was such a grounding experience. 

Whose relationship with nature would you like to have an impact on? 

I’d love to build a relationship with people that don’t believe in climate change. I think reiterating the importance of saving the environment, helping the world around us and giving them facts and information and proof that climate change is real would be a very impactful thing.

Would you rather be invited to visit David and Victoria Beckham at their Muskoka, Ont., cottage, or Harry and Meghan Sussex at their B.C. oceanic escape?

Definitely the Muskoka cottage. The energy around there is truly surreal. I saw pictures of their cottage and just how incredibly beautiful it is. No ifs, ands or buts — definitely the Muskoka cottage.

Camping, yes or no?

Yes. I am a bit scared of bears, so that’s the only thing holding me back from it. But I could definitely see the appeal. You can see the stars at night, you can have a bonfire and you can just be outdoors and get all that wonderful energy. 

Enjoying the Moose Questionnaire? Read more from the series here.

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Alex Hutchinson likes to keep busy. He’s been a physicist and a competitive runner on Canada’s national team. Now, he’s a journalist considering the neuroscience of fitness, endurance sports and outdoor adventure, with a couple of bestsellers under his belt. He also plays saxophone for fun. 

In his latest book, The Explorer’s Gene, Hutchinson weaves his wide-ranging interests into a celebration of far-flung corners, whether on Earth or inside the human mind. It’s about our genetic drive to immerse our senses in the unknown, whether a new place or a new food. It’s also about protecting those untamed instincts and the wild places they take us to see. Exploration is foundational to life, but exploitation puts it at risk. 

One key is appreciating the riches all around us. The other side of the world is cool, but so are the plants and animals outside our front doors. Hutchinson told The Narwhal he learned that lesson from his Uncle Wolf, who lives in Quebec’s Eastern Townships. 

“All through childhood and even into my adulthood, he would take me on the most epic adventures, in forests and up mountains around where he lives,” Hutchinson told us. “It really opened my eyes to the fact that you don’t have to go to the North Pole to experience adventure and beauty and solitude and wilderness.” 

Here’s what else the bestselling Toronto author told us about his connection to the natural world. 

This interview has been condensed and edited for length and clarity — all opinions are the subject’s own.

What is the most awe-inspiring natural sight you’ve witnessed between the Pacific, Atlantic, 49th parallel and Hudson Bay, otherwise known as Canada?

The fjords of Newfoundland. When I went to Gros Morne National Park a couple years ago, they were definitely the most distinct and unique and surprising sight to me. 

And what’s the most awe-inspiring natural sight you’ve seen outside of Canada? 

See, my first instinct is to say Doubtful Sound in New Zealand. But that seems to suggest I have an obsession with fjords and I think those are the only two fjords I’ve ever seen. There’s something I love about steep cliffs hemmed in by water. They’re actually strikingly similar. The New Zealand fjords were a little more green and verdant, whereas the Newfoundland fjords had that sort of primitive, rocky feel. 

I’ve never been to Norway, so I guess that should be on my list now.

Think of three iconic Canadian animals. Choose one each to kiss, marry, kill.

No offense to the Canada goose, but if I was going to kill an animal, it would be the Canada goose. Specifically the ones who pester me when I’m running along the Humber River in Toronto.

I think I’d give a nice peck to the moose. I don’t know if I want to stay with a moose, but I just love their cute, clumpy way of stumbling through the woods. 

And to marry, I kind of like bears, black bears. It might be a tempestuous marriage, but let’s go with the black bear. 

Name a person or group doing something meaningful for the environment that everyone should know about.

On a local level, Toronto Environmental Alliance. I really appreciate what they’re doing in my community. On a national level, the Nature Conservancy of Canada. I always feel when I donate to them that it’s actually selfish of me. I’m supporting their work to acquire lands, but it’s going to be to my huge benefit to have these lands protected.

Name a person who could significantly help mitigate the climate crisis if they really wanted to. 

In terms of decisions having an impact that frustrates me, I’d say Ontario Premier Doug Ford. 

I actually live near a block of bike lanes that he’s going to tear out. The Greenbelt, clean energy decisions, electric vehicle incentives — it’s just the whole philosophical approach. I think he has actually been very successful at derailing important initiatives.

Outdoor cats, yes or no?

I’m not a cat person. If we’re gonna have cats, I think I would lean towards letting them roam outside, even though I understand the impact they have on other animals.

Tell us about a time that you changed your mind about something, environmental or otherwise.

I’ve actually changed my mind multiple times on nuclear energy, which reflects that it’s complex. And I don’t rule out changing my mind again tomorrow. But right now, I lean more towards thinking it should be an important part of the energy mix. It’s complicated, very complicated.

Tell us about a time you tried to change someone else’s mind about something.

I have a cousin in Alberta who works in the oil industry and what I appreciate about my relationship with him is that we are able to discuss things about which we disagree frankly and vigorously without it being a personal attack. I’ve tried to change his mind on many elements of energy policy, environmental policy, national politics.

I think he hears me and he considers my arguments. And I would say, conversely, that I hear him too. I wouldn’t say that either of us have actually succeeded in radically changing our minds, but we both have better perspectives on the points on which we disagree.

Rocky Mountains or Great Lakes?

Rocky Mountains. And I say that as someone who lives on a Great Lake. 

Researchers at Yale University, the France-based Women’s Forum for the Economy and Society and other institutions have found women tend to be more concerned about climate change than men. Why do you think that is? 

Everything that pops to mind plays into stereotypes that I’m not sure I want to endorse. But I think caring about the environment goes hand in hand with caring about family and community in a way that maybe sometimes codes female and or has been more associated with the way women think about their families and communities. Maybe there’s something to that.

Jobs that go out and tend to exploit the environment, often tend to be male-dominated jobs. So maybe there’s a lot more men who see going out and drilling for oil, or whatever the case may be, as something that they might do and that their friends might do. Those are a couple things that come to mind. 

If you could dip a toe off Canada’s coastline, which ocean would it be in?

The Arctic. 

What’s a beautiful or useful thing that you’ve owned for a really long time?

My MSR camp stove that I’ve been taking into the wilderness for, gosh, almost three decades. Stuff you buy now, it’s not going to last 20 years. In fact, I do have two stoves, both by MSR, and it’s the newer one that is broken. The older one is still functional, even though it’s pretty grimy.

What’s the farthest north you’ve ever been, and what did you do there?

Cambridge Bay, Nvt., on assignment for Canadian Geographic. The Canadian High Arctic Research Station was just under construction. And I went to report on that and it was a really amazing and memorable experience.

What’s one way you interact with the natural world on a daily basis?

I live about a block from the Humber River. After Hurricane Hazel in 1954, they realized you can’t have houses down there. So it’s been a really beautiful natural area ever since, forests, deer, coyotes, beavers and running paths, which I’m on pretty much every day. 

If you could ask one person, alive or dead their thoughts on climate change, who would it be? 

I’d be interested to talk to the people who first developed oil and gas. Or actually, let’s say the guy who developed the steam engine, James Watt, or someone like that. Someone who saw the transformative power of fossil fuels — would you do anything differently if you knew what we know?

Smoked salmon or maple syrup?

Both at the same time is my obvious answer. This is, like, between the head and the heart. I feel like a traitor to my younger self, but I’ll say salmon. 

Would you rather be invited to Victoria and David Beckham’s Muskoka cottage, or Harry and Meghan Sussex’s B.C. escape?

I would go to the Beckhams’ cottage in Muskoka. Watching that Beckham Netflix series last year revised my opinion of David Beckham, who I earlier would have thought was a complete idiot. And also, I like Muskoka.

I know your answer, but camping yes or no?

Yes, yes, yes. 

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Onstage, Jeremy Dutcher sings in a deep, yearning tenor. On the phone, he giggles as he attempts to choose his favourite of Canada’s natural sites, considering options around the country before giving up. 

“I’m very, very fortunate as a musician. We get to see a lot of the country that I don’t think a lot of people always get to,” Dutcher says. “There’s a lot of beautiful places out there.” 

But the pianist’s heart will always be in Wolastokuk, or Fredericton, N.B., where he grew up as a member of Tobique First Nation. For centuries, it’s been the home of the Wolastoqiyik, or “people of the beautiful river:” both the land and the community are named for the Wolastoq, or Saint John River, that winds up from the Bay of Fundy. 

Honouring the language is central to Dutcher’s work. His 2018 debut album, Wolastoqiyik Lintuwakonawa, integrated century-old wax cylinder recordings of traditional songs, while 2023’s Motewolonuwok featured new songs in both English and Wolastoqey. Both won the Polaris Prize. Dutcher says there are fewer than 100 people left who are fluent in Wolastoqey, also known as Maliseet-Passamaquoddy. 

“Our Elders say ‘the language is the land, and the land is the language,’ ” he says. “There are certain words in our language that are really an onomatopoeia for what we’re hearing. For example, the word for bird or birds is ‘sipsisok.’ You can kind of hear the flutter of their wings.”

Along with working on a horror movie score, Dutcher has performances coming up in Canada and beyond. After playing with the Toronto Symphony Orchestra on June 21, the Two-Spirit musician will head to Norway for a Pride gig, before summer festivals in Elora, Ont., and Dawson City, Yukon. Next, some stops in Japan, followed by concerts in Prince George, Vernon and Oliver, B.C., this fall. 

Each trip is a chance to witness even more of the world’s natural beauty. When we connected with Dutcher, he told us what he’s seen so far. 

This interview has been condensed and edited for length and clarity — all opinions are the subject’s own.

What is the most awe-inspiring natural sight you’ve witnessed between the Pacific, Atlantic, 49th parallel and Hudson Bay, i.e. what people call Canada? 

To just pick one is to do a disservice to the rest. I was just in Iqaluit, Nvt., for the first time, at -40 C. The land is really inspiring, but it’s the people everywhere that really light me up. Last summer, I was in Gros Morne National Park in Newfoundland and that was another place that took my breath away. 

For me, to be around mountains is awe inspiring. I just got back from the Banff Centre for the Arts, which is nestled within the mountains. It’s dry as hell. My lips and my skin were in a riot. But it was so beautiful, it’s just really stunning.

Sorry, I couldn’t pick one. 

What is the most awe-inspiring natural sight you’ve seen outside of Canada?

Last summer, I played an Indigenous music festival among the Sami people, the Indigenous people of Scandinavia. This concert was in northern Norway. To get to fly into the fjords and then take a bus all throughout the mountains — the way that water meets rock, I’ll remember that for a long time. It’s really stunning up there. We got to go out on the water in these see-through kayaks, so we’re able to really watch what’s above and below. That was a really special time. 

Think of three iconic Canadian animals and choose one each to kiss, marry and kill. 

It’s probably gonna be kill moose. They’re so nice and fuzzy but like, kill a salmon, you feed your family, kill a moose, you feed your community for a month. Sorry, moose. 

Beavers are not so friendly. But I feel like I could get him on my side. Marry him and work on him. 

I’ve already kissed the cod, so why not do it again? 

Name a person or group doing something meaningful for the environment that everyone should know about.

This is going to be a bit of a sideways answer, but hear me out. It is a climate solution, but it’s also something that’s really near and dear to my heart. About three years ago, my mother, Lisa Perley-Dutcher, and some members of our community started the first language immersion school for the Wolastoqey language, Kehkimin. It’s on this beautiful lake. The whole philosophy is that our language can’t really be learned in a classroom like a European language. You need to go out and experience the land and have a relationship in order for the language to come. 

They go out and walk with Elders every day. It’s this beautiful reframing of educational space, environmentalism and how it’s really connected with language. These young people are having a deepened relationship with place and space through language and through community connectivity. For me, this is the most beautiful and grassroots way of enabling our land defenders. 

Name a person who could significantly help mitigate the climate crisis if they really wanted to. 

My quick and flippant answer is Mark f*cking Carney. 

My other answer is me. I mean that like the royal me — wait, it’s the royal ‘we,’ isn’t it? All of us could be doing better.  

But also Mark Carney. Our leadership, who have been democratically elected, are not moving with what the majority of the country would like — which is not to see our beautiful lands put in danger with pipeline projects. It’s really out of step with the direction a lot of us know we need to be going. This is what the land has been telling us.

Listen to the ones that are speaking from a place of knowledge and that are in relationship with this place in a way that we’re not. I saw the movie Yintah a couple weeks ago. It’s about the Wet’suwet’en land disputes. It’s really a cool insight on us being strong in who we are as sovereign Indigenous people and speaking for this place, how that can actually have a tangible impact on these resource projects. We can say no. And when we do say no, it’s been affirmed in the courts again and again and again, from Delgamu’ukw to the Marshall decisions. We have a right to say what happens in our unceded territories and — how did I get on this trip? 

Oh, Mark Carney. I don’t know that he has that good intention. The ways in which I’ve heard him speak have been like ‘drill, baby, drill.’ That feels regressive to me.

Researchers at Yale University, the France-based Women’s Forum for the Economy and Society and other institutions have found women tend to be more concerned about climate change than men. Why do you think that is? 

We’re so sick, we’re so gender sick. The same functions and institutions that seek to suppress our women and girls are a detriment to all. That weight sits heavy on all. 

The aggression and extractive mentalities that are so much of what we’re seeing in masculine presentation today — I don’t think they’re actually a fundamental part of a healthy masculinity, but I do think this state we find ourselves in, there’s a violence to it. It’s not surprising to me that it bears out in research. 

There is a mentality which values accumulation, whether that’s of resources or of capital. In order to accumulate vast capital, you need to do something to the land. There’s hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of years of men doing this — which is not to say that there aren’t female CEOs and oil executives that are doing bad by the globe. Any group that thinks that it can take, take, take, without offering and replanting and re-sowing: if we let our societies be run by this particular kind of person, we find ourselves in this place, which is our Earth crying out for something else. And I think a lot of people are too. 

The province that I come from, New Brunswick, for the last eight years we had an Irving oil executive as our premier, but now we have a Liberal woman in and I wonder if that might change the nature of how we think about land and space and place, rematriate our society. I think this is also a climate solution, to encourage our strong women into leadership. 

The logics and philosophies that got us into this place — extractive mentalities and patriarchy and all of these heavy things — they’re not going to be the same methodology that get us out of it. We need to fundamentally rethink the spaces of power and who gets to speak. 

Outdoor cats, yes or no?

Outdoor everything. Yes.

Tell us about a time you changed your mind about something, environmental or otherwise. 

I have a bad habit of smoking and I used to be a little careless with the butts. And a friend said ‘hey, dogs eat those up sometimes and it makes them quite sick. My dog got sick that way.’

What might feel like a small form of littering, when we think about our size and the size of those around us, we should try to walk lightly all the time. This is such a small, stupid example, but I try to take a little thing to put my butts in so I can dispose of them.

Tell us about a time you tried to change someone else’s mind about something.

For me, it’s less about trying to change anybody’s mind, but about being a little more vocal about what’s in my mind. Trying to let that shine towards people and offer them solutions, too.

I was talking about the school earlier, with my mother. After Canadians started to have a lot of conversations about residential schools and survivors, people wanted to help. They want to be part of the solution, to make our society more equitable. But it feels intangible, because for so long, they haven’t had relationships with Indigenous people. What I’ve realized telling people about this school is they want to put their energy, their good, their spirit, towards something that can help heal. 

I really feel like that’s the work we need to be doing right now, rather than giving anybody advice.

Rocky Mountains or Great Lakes? 

Sometimes in the fall my friend Melody McIver, this amazing Anishinaabe violist and Earth-worker, they gather this beautiful food called manoomin, what in English people call wild rice. It’s harvested in the Great Lakes, it actually grows right on that lake water. You go in your canoe and you have these sticks and you hit those grains of rice into your boat. It’s a real process, but it’s a beautiful one. I haven’t been in a couple years to go up and rice with my friend Melody, but that’s such a strong memory for me. 

So I have to stick with the Great Lakes. They’re beautiful. They feed us, both in our spirit and literally, with the rice in our bodies, too. 

What’s a beautiful or useful thing you’ve owned for a really long time?

Probably my hand drum. It was passed down to me, so it’s been around for a really long time. Old things, whether it’s objects or people or ideas, we need to be careful with them and we need to protect them and we need to go slow and we need to listen. Old things always remind me to be mindful. 

If you could dip a toe off of Canada’s coastline, what ocean would you pick?

It has to be the Atlantic. I’m an East Coast person, through and through and through. Not many places feel like home other than the beaches of the Atlantic Ocean. I long for that place all the time, but I live in Montreal for now.

Who in your life has had the greatest impact on your connection to nature? 

It’s my oldest brother, Shane Perly-Dutcher. He’s a beautiful artist and metalsmith. We are 14 years apart. He was very much taking me around as a young person and showing me how to work with the land, harvesting red willow roots and stripping bark. We’d go around and harvest and pick fiddleheads. That helped me to not just think about the land as abstract, that only a national park is a sacred place. No, it’s all sacred. The side of the road over there is sacred too. This is all beautiful land. He showed me that. 

Smoked salmon or maple syrup? 

There’s a restaurant in Vancouver called Salmon n’ Bannock, and they have a salmon sampler. You can try salmon done in like six different ways and it is insanity. One of them is a maple salmon situation. Ever since then, I’m like, why choose? We can do both. 

The Narwhal’s reporters are telling environment stories you won’t read about anywhere else. Stay in the loop by signing up for our free weekly dose of independent journalism.