Opportunity to influence
Ontario 's new parks act!
Wildcanada.net Action
Alert
Thursday, October 21st, 2004
After more than 3 years
of work together, in support of our friends at the Wildlands League,
you now have an historic opportunity to set a new course for Ontario’s
Provincial Parks.
The rules for what can
and cannot be done in Ontario’s Provincial Parks are close to 50 years
old. They say almost nothing about what we must do to make sure that
parks are healthy homes for moose, wolves, bears and other wild
creatures. They leave many dangerous loopholes for industrial
activities, such as logging roads and gravel pits that directly
threaten the very ecosystems parks are meant to protect. 23 of
Ontario’s parks face the potential threat of mining. Over 70% of
Algonquin Provincial Park – one of the oldest “protected” areas in the
world – is open to logging.
Take action to help pass
new protected areas legislation in Ontario at www.wildcanada.net/ontarioparks.
Many of us have
personal experiences in Ontario’s Provincial Parks that make this issue
so important. You can read Stephen Legault’s,
Executive Director of Wildcanada.net, at the end of this Action Alert.
When the Ontario Parks
system was started in 1954, Ontario had just eight parks. Now there are
more than 600 parks and conservation reserves, but we still do not have
a law that makes protection of wild animals and their homes the
priority in parks, planning and management. Today, new challenges not
imagined in the 1950s threaten Ontario’s Parks. Expanded All Terrain
Vehicle (ATV) and snowmobile use, entertainment complexes, golf courses
and resorts all threaten Ontario’s Parks.
What’s worse is that
under Ontario’s existing legislation, parks can be eliminated at a
meeting of the provincial Cabinet at any time!
We must pass a Parks Act
that makes the ecological integrity of parks the first priority. We
need clear rules about what is appropriate in parks and what is not,
and we should make the protection of parks from industrial use and
commercial development the law. We must also give park managers the
resources they need to ensure parks remain healthy.
You can do your part by
filling out the Government of Ontario’s survey on the future of
Ontario’s Parks at www.ontarioparks.com/english/survey.html.
Remember to tell the
government to:
a) Put nature first
b) Prohibit all industrial uses (including logging in Algonquin)
c) Restrict, reduce and rehabilitate the impacts of roads and motorized
access
You don’t need to live
in Ontario to do this. While Ontario’s parks are the responsibility
of the Ontario Government, we all deserve a say in how this important
part of Canada’s natural heritage is managed.
Please visit www.ontarioparks.com/english/survey.html
to fill out the government survey. It takes about 15-20 minutes.
Once you have completed
the survey (or if you don't have time to complete the survey), visit www.wildcanada.net/ontarioparks
and send a letter to Premier McGuinty urging him to make strong
legislation for Ontario’s parks.
Then tell your friends!
Pass this Action Alert on to your family, colleagues, pets, and
friends, and ask them to get involved.
A
Summer on Loon Lake
By: Stephen Legault
Whether you are from
Ontario, grew up there and moved away as I did, or find occasion to
visit Ontario and enjoy its fabulous system of provincial parks and
preserves, Ontario’s captivating and magical landscape of ancient
forests, granite hills, lakes, rivers and escarpments is sure to
inspire.
I grew up in Northern
Ontario, just outside of Timmins, in the small community of Porcupine.
It was a paradise for a kid like me, eager to explore the woods and
rocky outcrops that seemed to stretch away unbroken all the way to
James Bay. Some of my most vivid memories from my childhood are of
camping, fishing and pick-nick trips to Kettle Lakes and Ivanhoe Lake
Provincial Parks.
It is no wonder that
after some circling, I choose to study Natural Resource Management at
Sir Sandford Fleming College in Lindsay Ontario, and took as my first
summer job in college a position at Murphy’s Point Provincial Park,
near Perth Ontario in 1991.
I split my time that
summer between cleaning campgrounds and delivering interpretive
programs to visitors. The work was rewarding and my colleagues at the
park were great, but what remains my most captivating memory of that
time so long ago was my intense experience with nature. It was a very
close relationship, one that despite having gone on to work in Banff
National Park and Grand Canyon National Park, I’ve never been able to
duplicate.
Each day for me started
between 5 am and 6 am when I would rise, make a quick breakfast of
toast and tea, and walk the 50 yards from park housing to a perch on
the shore of Loon Lake we simply called “The Rock.” Alone there, or
with my friend Laurie Belfour, I would watch the morning draw back the
curtains of the night from the grand stage of Loon Lake. Each day was a
wonder.
Some days Ralph the Heron
would swoop in low over the lake and land on an island submerged just a
foot below the lake’s surface where he would still hunt for his own
breakfast. Other days a family of white-tailed deer would tip-toe down
to the shoreline, and seeing nothing to fear in my stationary post,
would delicately lap from the lake. Other mornings half a dozen beaver
would circle the tiny bay where my “Rock” extended, making the oddest
“mooing” sounds which I’ve never heard since. A family of otters often
came to play in the lake later in the summer.
One morning, my toes
dangling precarious close to the water, a snapping turtle with a
carapace (shell) the size of a garbage can lid and a head the size of
my fist swam up and perched on the rock to inspect me. I named him
Igor, and from time to time that summer I saw him swimming in the
shallows of Loon Lake. I fretted about him every time I swam in Loon
Lake that summer.
But all of these wildlife
encounters each day were merely the opening act for the main
attraction: Harold and Maude. Harold and Maude were a mating pair of
loons whose territory was all of Loon Lake. I spent my entire summer
watching them, studying them, filling journals with observations about
them and loving their every movement. They nested only a few hundred
meters from "The Rock", and so I was given a somewhat voyeuristic view
of their matting in May.
Laurie and I waited as
anxiously as if we were the parents ourselves for the day their chicks
would be born. The birds took turns on the nest for weeks, and then one
day, they both just swam away. We feared for the worst. Had Igor gotten
the eggs? Had one of the rather toothy Northern Pike that swam in the
depths of the lake snatched the chicks during their first swim?
It was late one evening
when we spotted a tiny fleck riding on the back of Harold. We had a
chick! We named it Summer for the longest day of the year on which it
was born.
The summer of 1991 was an
amazing season for me. Many mornings and most nights I would take the
Park’s old 17 foot Grumman canoe and paddle around Loon Lake, often
times returning to "The Rock" well after dark, listening to barred owls
call back and forth from the woods, navigating through the inky night
by feel, having come to know the contours of the lake like the back of
my hand.
There was great work that
summer: talking with visitors about the park’s amazing snake
population, including the endangered Black Rat Snake, a constrictor
that can grow up to 6 feet long and kills its avian prey by sneaking up
on them on the branches of trees and suffocating them. I spent many
summer days at the public beach watching with other visitors as a pair
of osprey raised their young, helped them fledge and learn to fish. I
did my first evening campfire talks at Murphy’s Point, something that
would help land me a job with Parks Canada the following summer in Lake
Louise, in Banff National Park, which I kept until 1996 when I started
doing conservation work full-time.
But never in all my time
in Banff, the winter of 1993-94 when I volunteered for Grand Canyon
National Park, or in all the time living in Alberta’s Bow Valley have I
come close to the feeling of connection I had with nature at Murphy’s
Point Provincial Park in Ontario. It was an extraordinary summer. It is
an extraordinary place.
We need to keep it that
way, along with Ontario’s 600 other parks, so that someday, our
children might experience that connection too. So that they might feel
what I did in the summer of 1991 – that the distance between us as
human animals and the other animals that we share this earth with is
very small indeed. And that if we want to, we can live side by side
with them and learn from them, share their triumphs and their defeats
and see that we are all part of one great family of creatures on this
marvelous planet called earth.
Tell me your story about
Ontario 's Parks by clicking
here.
Take action at www.wildcanada.net/ontarioparks.
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