At The Narwhal, our goal is to tell stories, even ugly ones, beautifully. This year we sent photographers to capture the adaptation of provincial parks and beaches, the disappearing joy of playing pond hockey on a frozen lake, the reality of old-growth logging, the resilience of an Arctic community adjusting to climate change and so much more. Here are our favourite photos of 2025.

sánəsaʔł stáʔləw (Alouette River) in q̓ic̓əy̓ (Katzie) territory, B.C.

Photo: Isabella Falsetti / The Narwhal

The sánəsaʔł stáʔləw (Alouette River) flow has been reduced by 86 per cent due to the Alouette Dam, operated by BC Hydro. q̓ic̓əy̓ (Katzie) First Nation is calling on the energy utility to let more water through for the survival of salmon and their eggs. q̓ic̓əy̓ citizens Rick Bailey and Mike Leon took photographer Isabella Falsetti and reporter Stephanie Kwetásel’wet Wood to the river to talk about its importance and the changes they would like to see, such as a fish ladder that would allow salmon to bypass the dam. Falsetti’s moody photos capture the misty, lush depth of the forest and give a sense of the relationship Leon and Bailey have with the water.

Wasaga Beach, Ont.

Photo: Carlos Osorio / The Narwhal

The popular tourist destination of Wasaga Beach, Ont., could change significantly in coming years as a portion of it comes under the control of the municipality, which means losing provincial park status and all the protections that come with it. Ontario reporter Fatima Syed and photojournalist Carlos Osorio went to Wasaga to hear more about what was going on and capture the beauty of the beach.

Vancouver, B.C.

Photo: Jesse Winter / The Narwhal

In the summer, biodiversity reporter Ainslie Cruickshank and photojournalist Jesse Winter dropped by the bustling Vancouver Aquarium Marine Mammal Rescue Society for the morning feed. The rescue responds to sea lions, sea otters, small cetaceans like dolphins and even sea turtles in distress, but it’s mostly harbour seals that wind up here. By mid-August, nearing the end of pupping season, the rescue had more than 60 seals in its care. Pups are tube fed when they first arrive, but after a few weeks they’re hand-fed frozen herring, until they can confidently eat on their own. Eventually, they’re released back into the wild. 

Toronto, Ont.

Photo: Sid Naidu / The Narwhal

The year saw several governments — both provincial and federal — pass sweeping laws to speed development, arguably at the expense of consultation with Indigenous communities. One of those was Ontario’s Bill 5, which saw swift public response and demonstrations from First Nations leaders and communities at Queen’s Park. Photographer Sid Naidu captioned the action outside the buildings, as well as the tense discussions inside: one rally saw drummers and dancers form a drumming circle inside the legislative building as hearings over the bill were underway.

Walbran Valley, B.C.

Photo: Mike Graeme / The Narwhal

In September, B.C. politics reporter Shannon Waters and photojournalist Mike Graeme travelled to the Walbran Valley on Vancouver Island. There, amid hills patched with clearcuts dating back decades, a group of people had set up camp on a logging road in an effort to prevent logging. Later that week, a B.C. Supreme Court judge granted an injunction to Tsawak-qin Forestry Limited Partnership, a joint partnership between the Huu-ay-aht First Nations and Western Forest Products that set the stage for the RCMP to remove people from the area. In late November, people were removed and arrests were made.

Warburg , Alta.

Photo: Isabella Falsetti / The Narwhal

Eighty-four-year old Karl Zajes took Prairies reporter Drew Anderson and photojournalist Isabella Falsetti to meet other rural Alberta landowners, as well giving them a tour of the oil and gas wells on his land. Karl bumped along in his pickup truck, Drew trying to keep up behind. Speaking to people personally affected by the issues we report on is often tricky, but that was particularly true for this story, as Karl doesn’t have the internet. Drew would have never met him — or been able to report the story so deeply — had it not been for his tenacity in seeking out sources. When the story was published, Drew sent it to the local print shop so Karl could go pick it up. The photos were so good he sprung for colour printing.

Pipi7íyekw (Joffre Lakes Park), B.C.

Photo: Paige Taylor White / The Narwhal

Photographer Paige Taylor White made four visits to Líl̓wat territory to report on Pipi7íyekw, also known Joffre Lakes Park. It’s Instagram-famous and very busy, and so the province, Líl̓wat and N’Quatqua have led temporary closures, bringing floods of misinformation that often racially target the First Nations. White and reporter Stephanie Kwetásel’wet Wood sought to understand the goal of the closures, rather than focus on the hateful backlash. The nations granted them access to capture intimate moments of connection between community members and the land, with many seeing the lakes for the first time. The photo essay also delves into how rest keeps the park healthy, and what care all people owe to natural spaces that bring them enjoyment.

Cambridge Bay, Nvt.

Photo: Gavin John / The Narwhal

In May 2025, photojournalist Gavin John accompanied freelance reporter Chloe Williams to Cambridge Bay, Nvt., to report on disappearing sea ice and its impacts on Inuit communities, as well as an ambitious scientific idea to thicken it. As the Arctic warms three times faster than the rest of the world, residents in the North are seeing climate change happen before their eyes. In photos and videos, John documented an 1,800-person community on the frontlines of climate change, as residents worry about what the thinning ice means for travel, culture and food security. In this photo, Cían Sherwin walks on water pumped onto the sea ice outside of Cambridge Bay.

Thunder Bay, Ont.

Photo: David Jackson / The Narwhal

Canada geese fly above Thunder Bay’s shoreline on Lake Superior. Reporter Fatima Syed and photographer David Jackson visited the site of a massive remediation project to restore the state of the shoreline, even as industry continues to use it. The remediation project seeks to reverse some of the damage done by industry, including mining and forestry.

Delta, B.C.

Photo: Isabelle Groc / The Narwhal

A proposed expansion at Canada’s busiest port could be fast-tracked by the federal government. The impact could be felt by many species, including the tiny but mighty western sandpiper, whose food is uniquely plentiful in the Fraser estuary of Metro Vancouver, B.C. Microscopic organisms make up the superfood — called biofilm — which fuels the round, fluffy shorebird, including on its epic journey between Peru and Alaska. But Roberts Bank Terminal 2 is set to double the size of Canada’s biggest container terminal, to bring in large cargo ships and even more imports. It’s a development scientists conclude will weaken the estuary’s ability to be a wildlife refuge. Photographer Isabelle Groc captured the little bird and came to The Narwhal with her beautiful photos.

Minnedosa Lake, Man.

Photo: Tim Smith / The Narwhal

Photojournalist Tim Smith and Manitoba reporter Julia-Simone Rutgers bundled in February to report on the annual Skate the Lake pond hockey tournament on Minnedosa Lake in southwestern Manitoba. The assignment was to document a classic winter pursuit — and talk players, families and fans about if and how climate change was impacting it. This year, the weather was extremely cold, -35 C to be exact. It meant the ice was nice and solid, but people still had things to say about the challenges as weather becomes more unpredictable across the Prairies. These photos capture the joy of toughing it out in Canadian winters.

Elk Valley, B.C.

Photo: Leah Hennel / The Narwhal

Each year, scores of wild animals are hit by trains, but poor tracking makes it challenging to know exactly how many deer, moose, elk or bears are killed in B.C. each year. In the spring, biodiversity reporter Ainslie Cruickshank and photojournalist Leah Hennel traveled to the Elk Valley in southeastern B.C. to work on a story about the railway’s toll. Leah captured this portrait of two deer near the railway tracks in the waning evening light in Sparwood, B.C.

Fort St. John, B.C.

Illustration: Nora Kelly / The Narwhal

Sometimes, we aren’t able to take photos to accompany a story, especially when it’s an investigation companies and governments might prefer we didn’t publish. That was the case when The Narwhal obtained B.C. Energy Regulator inspection notes through freedom of information legislation, which included vivid descriptions of problems at oil and gas facilities. Nora Kelly’s compelling illustration captured details found in the records about how wildlife were accessing dormant, active and polluting sites in B.C.’s northeast.

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.

When Shannon Waters first joined the press gallery at the B.C. legislature, the decision on whether or not to continue the Site C dam project was looming large. Shannon was there as a reporter for BC Today, a daily political newsletter, and she remembers being blown away by long-time Narwhal reporter Sarah Cox’s work.

“Her ability to look at these huge complex reports, which, at the time, I mostly just felt like I was drowning in, and cut through that to tell stories about what was really going on was impressive,” Shannon says. “That was my initial intro and I have been following The Narwhal ever since!” 

Fast forward more than six years later, Shannon joins The Narwhal as our first-ever B.C. politics and environment reporter. And get this, Sarah will be her editor in the new gig. 

“After years of admiring their work, I’m excited to work with Sarah and the whole Narwhal team,” Shannon says.

I sat down with Shannon to get to know her better and hear more about what brought her to The Narwhal’s growing pod. 

What’s your favourite animal? 

That’s easy, it’s an octopus. I have one tattooed on my arm. I just think it’s really neat that we have a creature on this planet as intelligent as an octopus. It’s the closest thing to alien life that we’ve ever come across but it’s right here on the planet with us. And I think that’s very cool. 

The Narwhal’s new B.C. politics and environment reporter Shannon Waters comes by her name honestly, she’s a real water and ocean lover. Photo: Jillian Miller / The Narwhal

What is the thing about journalism that gets you excited to start your work day?

I get excited about working as a journalist because every day is a bit different. I like having the opportunity to learn new things on a regular basis, partly because I get bored really easily. 

My favorite thing about being a reporter is you never really know exactly how your day is gonna go and you’re always getting to talk to interesting people. As a bonus, I also really like to write, and I always have.

Your first job was at a radio station in Prince George, B.C. How did this early experience shape you?

I think it really honed my sense of journalism being part of the community and a community service. We covered all kinds of things. I was on the school board beat when I first got there and then I was covering city hall a little later on. I did a weekend shift. I covered crime stories.

Sometimes you’d start out the day covering one story and then by the end of the day, you’d be doing something else. I was also in Prince George in 2017, for the wildfires, and the city became a hub for people who were displaced from all across B.C. That was a really intense, eye-opening experience about what communities can do for people when they are put to the test. So again, learning things, and that variety and getting to write about them for a living.

You’re a self-described political nerd. Where does that come from? 

I’m fascinated by politics because it touches every aspect of our lives, and there’s not really any way to get away from it. I consider myself a bit cynical about our political systems but even if you don’t like them, or don’t believe in them, or don’t want anything to do with them, you can’t really get away from politics. I find it fascinating to look at what is going on in the political sphere, what kind of policies are popular at the moment? Which ones are being rejected? How is that conversation going? How did it get started? Where might it go? And politics is also about people. 

I like being someone who can hopefully try and help people understand why politics matters, what they can do to try and affect the change that they might want to see and how the politics in their area or the policies being enacted by politicians affects them and the people around them. It’s not something that everybody finds fascinating. A lot of people’s eyes glaze over when you tell them you’re a political or a legislative reporter. But I really enjoy the work. And it’s one of those things that feels like, well, somebody should be doing it. And so for now, at least, that somebody can be me.

It’s an election year in B.C. What are you most excited about?

I’m looking forward to seeing what happens. We’re really in a very interesting space in B.C. right now. If you were talking to me a year ago about the election, I would probably have sounded a bit more bored, because it seemed like much more of a foregone conclusion — you know, the NDP were going to likely win a majority and we’d have sort of more of the same. But now you have this really interesting churn in the political landscape with the emergence of the B.C. Conservatives as a real contender of a party according to the polling that we’ve been seeing. Meanwhile B.C. United, which is the very well-established B.C. Liberal party renamed, has sort of had the wheels come off. 

So, I’m really interested to see what happens on the campaign trail as you have these parties trying to court voters, what sort of ideas they’re going to put forward. I’m also really curious what it means for the Green Party. B.C. hasn’t had a lot of elections where we’ve had so many parties competing for seats in the legislature and I think that’s going to make for a very interesting and probably quite dramatic campaign.

Shannon is no stranger to the B.C. legislature and will be digging deep as she grows the politics and environment beat for The Narwhal. Photo: Jillian Miller / The Narwhal

What kind of stories do you hope to tell more of?

I am excited about getting more in depth. I’ve been doing daily news for about seven years now, including covering elections. I have really enjoyed doing that and I feel like when you’re a daily news reporter you also have all these thoughts about potential stories that need a closer look or more time to percolate. So I’m really looking forward to looking at the news landscape and seeing what’s missing. With the election, I’m also excited to look back and think: what was the government saying about this particular policy in the last election? What have they done on it during the interim? And what are they saying now? 

I think one of the biggest things I learned as BC Today’s reporter and later Politics Today’s editor-in-chief is finding the stories in the minutia and the nuts and bolts of what goes on in the legislature. There’s a list that has been building in my head for a long time of all of these stories that I’ve wanted to take a closer look at over the years and I’m excited to get started. 

What are three things people might not know about you?

I could eat peanut butter toast and drink coffee every day of my life and die happy. Growing up I wanted to be a marine biologist and study either sharks or cephalopods. I am the biggest word nerd, which can be a good thing for someone who writes for a living, but is sometimes a struggle. I am still striving to use the word “absquatulate” in a story someday!

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.

Tuesday was a big night for our B.C. team, attending the annual Jack Webster Awards in person for the first time. We were nominated in three categories — excellence in legal journalism, excellence in environment reporting and excellence in multimedia journalism — and we came home with all three awards at the ceremony in Vancouver.

“I wasn’t expecting to win,” said biodiversity reporter Ainslie Cruickshank, who won the award for best environmental reporting. “It was an exciting night and I’m really proud of our team.”

Cruickshank’s award-winning feature takes a look at the efforts being made by non-profits, governments and First Nations to fight the invasion of European green crabs in B.C. waters.  The story reveals many of the critters rot in a landfill — even though they’re edible — which is why some people wonder if we should just eat the crabs, especially when inflation is driving up the cost of groceries.

The awards, created to recognize long-time B.C. reporter Jack Webster, celebrate outstanding journalism in the province.

The Narwhal’s wins at the Websters wouldn’t have been possible without the more than 5,500 members who donate whatever they can afford to support our independent, non-profit journalism.

Biodiversity reporter Ainslie Cruickshank, B.C. bureau lead Lindsay Sample and mining reporter Francesca Fionda were all smiles after The Narwhal took home three 2023 Webster Awards.

Our mining reporter, Francesca Fionda, won best legal reporting for her in-depth coverage of a court case which could change the future of mining in B.C. Fionda spent 14 days in the B.C. Supreme Court as the Gitxaała Nation and Ehattesaht First Nation brought forward their case, fighting against how mineral rights are handed out in the province. 

Her time in court led to four articles explaining the significance of the case and raising concerns of Indigenous leaders, the exploration industry, mining reform advocates, community groups and environmental advocates.

Our northwest B.C. reporter, Matt Simmons, was the final winner of the night for The Narwhal. He won best multimedia journalism for his work breaking down the truth about pipelines crossing Wet’suwet’en territory — and charting their proposed paths. Simmons spent months collaborating with our art director Shawn Parkinson to visually show the pipeline routes and how they intersect with Wet’suwet’en governance structure.

“So many people made time for me, trusted me with their stories and shared space around fires or over bowls of moose stew. It’s an honour to have this work recognized like this,” Simmons said. 

Other winners from the night include Global BC, The Globe and Mail, the Vancouver Sun, the Tyee, Hakai Institute, Hakai Magazine, RedFM, The Discourse, IndigiNews and the Vancouver Tech Journal.

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.

As a self-described professional reader, it’s nearly impossible for Michelle Cyca to choose her favourite book. But, if pushed, she will tell you it’s anything by Ali Smith. “She’s a Scottish author who writes the most beautiful, strange, unexpected novels about art, empathy and the natural world, and her most recent one is Companion Piece,” Michelle says. 

Michelle’s deep love for reading and writing is just part of why we’re excited to welcome her to The Narwhal pod. She’s joining the team as an editor focused on expanding our coverage of Indigenous-led conservation.

“What’s thrilling about Indigenous-led conservation is seeing how fundamentally different the approaches are, because they’re rooted in Indigenous laws and governance, and because they’re specific to the context and history of each Indigenous nation,” Michelle says. 

In her new role, Michelle is starting by reaching out to as many people as she can to hear their thoughts on what kind of stories need to be told. When she’s not doing that she’ll be juggling a robust roster of freelance projects, taking care of her cat, Azzy, and parenting — it’s the latter that inspires her most. 

“Becoming a parent has been the most clarifying experience for understanding my values and how I want to spend my time,” she says.  

I spoke with Michelle about her journey to journalism, what keeps her up at night and what she’s looking forward to in this new role.

Why did you decide to become a journalist?

It was definitely a circuitous path — I always loved writing but I wasn’t sure I could make a career out of it. I studied public health and worked in health promotion and outreach for a few years, which made me realize two things: the part of my work I was most interested in was figuring out how to communicate information in clear, accessible and compelling ways; and that there was a huge scientific literacy gap that can be addressed, in part, through journalism.

As a Cree person, I also found a lot of the journalism on Indigenous issues really disappointing. Often it was so focused on trauma, in ways that felt exploitative or two-dimensional, or it was so superficial and there was no engagement with contemporary issues, cultural nuance or political complexity. It didn’t reflect the lives of the Indigenous people I knew or the work they did. I’m an Aries so my general approach in life is that if I see something being done poorly I want to get in there and do it myself.

What do you love most about storytelling?

How powerful it is! This is truer now than ever — there’s so much noise and “content” that I think thoughtful, deliberate storytelling is even more critical. A lot of the public understanding of reconciliation and Indigenous Rights has come about through people finally hearing Indigenous stories and perspectives, for instance. And I find it most gratifying when someone reaches out to me to say that they felt seen or understood by something I wrote.

“For Indigenous people, rights and land and identity are all bound up together — you can’t protect the environment separate from the people who live on it,” Michelle Cyca says. Photo: Kayla MacInnis / The Narwhal

What draws you to Indigenous-led conservation specifically?

I think in the last few years it’s become especially obvious that the Canadian government cannot fix the problems they have created for Indigenous people. For a long time, reconciliation strategies felt very patronizing — we’re sorry about everything, and we’re going to do something to make up for it. This is doomed to fail because, often, the interests of the government run counter to the interests of Indigenous people — we see this in clashes over resource extraction at the expense of environmental destruction. 

I think that Indigenous-led conservation opens up discussions and facilitates learning about the broader context of Indigenous Rights and sovereignty. More people than ever are concerned about the environment and the climate crisis. They realize that defending the natural world is critical to our survival, and part of that work is recognizing and affirming the stewardship of Indigenous people over their lands and waters. For Indigenous people, rights and land and identity are all bound up together — you can’t protect the environment separate from the people who live on it. So I hope that people who are drawn to these fights out of concern for the planet will also recognize that they need to be allies in a larger struggle for Indigenous self-determination and survival. 

What kind of stories do you hope we can tell more of?

I love stories about young land and water defenders — as much as this important work is being led by elected and hereditary leaders, there are a ton of incredible young Indigenous folks whose efforts deserve attention.

Do you have any surprising talents?

For someone with zero natural athletic talents I’m surprisingly good at chopping wood, and if you have a wood pile I will absolutely demolish it for you. 

What keeps you up at night?

My cat, the slow and steady erosion of Indigenous Rights, the discovery of this asteroid that might hit earth in 23 years.

Take a moment to pitch people, who do you want to reach out to you about this work?

I love hearing from Indigenous people who are working in their communities, and I encourage them to think of what they do as newsworthy! One problem arising from the underrepresentation of Indigenous stories in media is that it can deter people from thinking that what’s happening in their community is worth covering. If you’re wondering, “Why hasn’t anyone written about what’s happening on our territory?” that’s a sign you should send me an email!

Michelle Cyca is an editor at The Narwhal focused on Indigenous-led conservation, you can reach her at michelle@thenarwhal.ca. This conversation was edited for length and clarity. 

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.

The summer after university graduation, Francesca Fionda was dressing up in a thermostat costume, reminding people to turn down the heat.

At the time, she was working with BC Hydro on their outreach team. Part of that job was answering questions about the electric utility from the public and the media — sometimes in a mascot costume. While throwing the first pitch at Vancouver’s Nat Bailey Stadium dressed in a TV costume was fun, she started to think that answering questions with a script wasn’t nearly as interesting as asking them. So she decided to enroll in journalism school.

It was a good decision. 

Since graduating from the British Columbia Institute of Technology, she’s worked on investigative teams with the three major news broadcasters across Canada and produced meaningful journalism at start-ups and local journalism outfits in her home-province of B.C. 

Francesca has a deep love for research and data journalism. She was recently awarded the first ever Lieutenant Governor’s BC Journalism Fellowship for an in-depth project looking at the challenges of people who have been evacuated because of climate disasters. She’s excited by data visualizations and documentaries. When she isn’t in the newsroom, Francesca’s in the classroom teaching data journalism at the University of British Columbia.

She joins The Narwhal as our mining reporter, where there’s no shortage of spreadsheets to scroll through and questions that need to be answered. 

I spoke with Francesca about where her curiosity is headed and her love of bad jokes.

“Individuals have a lot of power but, when it comes to the climate crisis, it’s organizations that have the biggest impact on our planet,” Francesca says. Photo: Taehoon Kim / The Narwhal

What excites you most about the mining beat?

The prospect of puns. I get to say I’m digging deep on a story and actually mean it. Puns are a miner inconvenience to some, but for me they are the gold nuggets of jokes. There’s a lot at stake when you attempt a pun. Sometimes they don’t pan out and you feel like you’ve hit rock bottom, other times you find a gem. 

Okay, I’ll stop. There are so many interesting and important mining stories waiting to be told. Mining is a fairly new topic for me. I’ve reported on stories about resource extraction, covered the unsafe practices at a coal mine in Nova Scotia and toxic dust at Giant Mine in Yellowknife, but my mind is totally open to learning. I’m really excited to start this beat for The Narwhal and invite readers along. I hope people will email us to share what mining stories they want to read and what questions we should be asking. 

How have your thoughts around what it means to be a journalist changed over time?

There’s so much information out there and it can be really overwhelming. Sometimes that information is misleading and we’ve seen that lead to polarization and division. I think journalists have a huge role to play in not just providing reliable information, but also bridging divides. That starts by decolonizing our reporting practices and taking time to build trust with communities and folks we speak with.

How can environmental journalists push the climate conversation forward?

I think a big part of a journalist’s role is to give people information that they can use to make decisions about their lives — whether it’s how you commute or who you vote for. Journalism is one way society can hold power to account, whether that’s corporations, governments or businesses. Individuals have a lot of power but, when it comes to the climate crisis, it’s organizations that have the biggest impact on our planet. 

There’s a lot of climate anxiety out there. It’s real, it’s stressful and it’s growing. We can help people find ways to channel anxiety into action by highlighting solutions and what’s working. Along with highlighting the challenges we are facing, we need to report on what good is happening in the world too. 

Francesca Fionda joins The Narwhal from xʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam), Skwxwú7mesh (Squamish), and səl̓ilwətaɁɬ / sel̓íl̓witulh (Tsleil-Waututh) territory, colonially knowns as Vancouver, B.C. Photo: Taehoon Kim / The Narwhal

Who’s doing work that you’re inspired by?

I am really inspired by the independent media outlets that are based here in B.C. The Tyee is somewhere that I also report and I really value the work the team produces. IndigiNews is another outlet that I’m inspired by because they’re really challenging the way that journalism is done and taking on a lot of work to decolonize journalism. I also love following the beautiful and creative work produced by data journalist Mona Chalabi. 

What do you do to relax?

Get locked in a room and try to puzzle my way out. It’s super relaxing. I’m talking about escape rooms. I love trying to solve riddles and mysteries. I’ve also played field hockey for almost 20 years now and play in a competitive league. In Vancouver, we are pretty lucky that we can play outside and enjoy the outdoors all year; rain or more rain.

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.

It started with a coffee. At the time Ainslie Cruickshank was working as an environment reporter at the Star Metro based in Vancouver. She was curious about The Narwhal and wanted to learn more, so she met with co-founder Emma Gilchrist. 

“I was really impressed with her vision for what reporting on the natural world could be,” Ainslie said.

It’s this natural curiosity and desire to learn that led her to study journalism straight out of high school. “Rather than choosing between political science or geography, English lit or biology, I chose journalism, thinking I’d have the chance to learn little bits of all of those subjects.” 

She was right. Journalism has allowed her to learn a bit about a whole range of topics while covering politics in the Yukon and Ontario early in her career, and environment issues in B.C for the last several years. Over the years, she’s had the chance to write about habitat restoration to help declining salmon populations, struggling honeybees, mine pollution threatening endangered fish species and B.C’s cycle of wildfires and floods. 

Now, Ainslie joins our B.C. team as our new full-time biodiversity reporter, a position created with the support of the Sitka Foundation. (As per The Narwhal’s editorial independence policy, the foundation does not have editorial input.)

“I’m excited to make it official,” she said. “There are so many biodiversity stories to tell, I can’t wait to get started.” 

We caught up with Ainslie to hear more about what fuels her and the new skills she learned during the pandemic.

After doing so much reporting from her desk during the pandemic, Ainslie is most looking forward to getting out on the ground to meet with people in person and learn about the many pressing biodiversity and conservation issues in B.C. Photo: Jesse Winter / The Narwhal

What’s your favourite animal? 

There are so many amazing creatures out there, big and small, that I don’t think I can pick one. 

Whales, bears, cows, horses … okay, to write about, maybe whales and salmon. I think they are so iconic and important and face lots of challenges. 

What draws you to environment reporting? 

I think that it’s just one of those topics that is so important and touches on everything. An environment story is also a policy story, and a human story, and a business story and a political story — it’s the basis of everything. Without these ecosystems and the environment, there is nothing else.

And I think journalism is endlessly interesting. It’s just this constant opportunity to learn and meet people, and then also have the chance to bring other people in so they can learn too. I think that’s what excites me is just the constant opportunity to be learning new things. 

You’ve been working for The Narwhal as a freelancer — what stories are you most proud of?

The most recent story about selenium pollution from Teck’s Elk Valley coal mines and its impact on downstream ecosystems comes to mind. After doing so much reporting during the pandemic from my desk, it felt really exciting to get out on the ground and meet with people in person. I had written about the selenium issue a few times before so getting the chance to meet some of the really interesting and passionate people who are working hard to try to understand this issue and the impact that it has on communities and ecosystems, and to actually see the places I was writing about, was a really great experience. 

A U.S. Army Corps of Engineers field team collects water and micro-organism samples from the Koocanusa Reservoir near the Canada-U.S. border. Photo: Jesse Winter / The Narwhal

What kind of stories do you hope to tell more of?

I love digging into complex issues and trying to connect human stories with science and policy. There are a lot of challenges right now when it comes to biodiversity and I’m looking forward to exploring a lot of those issues, but I’m also excited to learn about and share some hopeful stories about the incredible conservation work communities are doing in B.C.

Two stories I loved working on for The Star were part of the paper’s big climate change series Undeniable. One was all about the growing risk of atmospheric rivers in B.C. Working with scientists in Canada and the U.S., we were able to show that atmospheric rivers had already caused a lot of havoc in B.C. — landslides, floods and avalanches — and with climate change we’re expected to see more of them. So that was a chance to link the science of this weather phenomenon to real on-the-ground impacts that affected communities in B.C.

As part of that project, I also had the chance to travel to Kluane First Nation territory in the Yukon, where a glacier had receded due to climate change. It moved so much that it actually changed the flow of two rivers, which had significant downstream impacts on Lhù’ààn Män, or Kluane Lake, that directly affected Kluane First Nation. It was a clear example that climate change isn’t a future problem, but something that’s here now and already affecting communities. 

What does good journalism look like to you?

I think good journalism doesn’t shy away from complexity — it tries to offer new insights into a topic, shares diverse perspectives and hopefully makes a reader feel something or leaves them with something to contemplate. 

Alongside digging into some of the big challenges around endangered species and habitat destruction, Ainslie is excited to share stories about the conservation work communities are already doing. Photo: Jesse Winter / The Narwhal

What are the biggest issues facing journalism in Canada today?

Within the industry, it can be a real struggle at times to get the time and space to work on bigger stories that require a lot of research. There are often resource constraints in terms of travel. It’s exciting to be part of The Narwhal because it’s an organization that invests in deep reporting and getting out on the ground. I think the other challenge is just trust in journalism. There are a lot of forces out there that are trying to degrade the trust in journalism. So I think trying to build our relationship with readers and find a way to restore or build trust in the work that we do is really important.

We’re all just coming through a big shift in how we lived our lives through the pandemic. Did you learn any new skills outside of journalism to get you through this strange time? 

I, like everyone else, went looking for a hobby during the pandemic. I landed on sewing because I liked the idea that there were different steps to the process. Ironing, cutting the material, pinning everything and then the actual sewing. I ended up making a few whole-cloth baby blankets for friends and siblings who were having babies. They were very simple projects that basically entail sewing together two pieces of fabric and batting together and then binding the edges. There were no major failures, just a bunch of small quilts with unintentionally wavy edges.

Has anything about learning to sew surprised you?

I don’t know why but it makes me think about solving algebra equations in high school. I’m reminded of how it’s important to pay attention at each step because if you rush through you can end up with problems at the end that are difficult to fix. That always used to happen to me with algebra, I’d skip steps and end up with the wrong answer, so I try not to rush through the cutting and pinning process, even if I just want to get to the sewing.

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.