Shifting Baselines: The Legacy We Leave

In the 19th century, passenger pigeons were so abundant they darkened the skies for hours as they flew overhead. Branches broke under the weight of their flocks. Estimates count up to five billion of these birds in North America at the time.

But by the turn of the century, there was none left.

We had killed them all.

Today, such abundance seems fantastical. None of us has seen so many animals at any one time. Surely the passenger pigeon is a legend?

But it’s far from that. Instead, what we have is an example of a shift in baselines. We collectively forget how much wildlife surrounded us, taking what we have now as normal. It’s a dangerous phenomenon to those of us who care about biodiversity.

Last month, at the height of the heat, I stepped into the garden at Lucas House in Haliburton. The buzzing was louder than the passing cars. As I walked, clouds of insects took flight. I remember gasping; it was so remarkable.

But what if a few years ago, that abundance was normal and I was part of a culture that had forgotten? What if our baselines have shifted and we accept the silence of lawns as perfectly usual?

The scientific consensus says there’s a mass extinction going on, with species disappearing up to 100 times faster than the background rate.

So you can imagine, our baselines will continue to shift as we get used to ever-fewer creatures sharing our planet, rather like the frog who doesn’t realize his water is about to boil.

Many of us won’t care, but for those of us who do, we’re driven to ask: is this the legacy we want to leave our children and grandchildren?

Do we want mornings without birds or evenings without dragonflies to be normal?

Do we want to live in an impoverished world and not remember how rich it used to be?

Nature rushes back

It’s easy to get gloomy about all this. I have moments when my heart is heavy.

But then I remember the past does not have to be the future, that nature is smart and strong, and that given the opportunity, it rushes back.

Our baselines can shift the other way.

I get ecological news sent directly to my email, and I often hear stories of a wasteland that becomes a thriving ecosystem.

Look at Toronto’s former Port Lands, where the Don River is now flowing properly into the lake, surrounded by new coastal wetland and meadows. Native plant seeds that were buried under infill and industry 120 years ago germinated and grew again.

It can happen at your lake, too. A silent swath of grass can start to sing with life.

Lake Legacy Leaders

I’ve been delighted to meet many cottagers and residents who want to bring nature back, who want to plant natives rather than exotics, and who want to do their bit to keep this place alive.

I call these people Lake Legacy Leaders because they are at the forefront of reversing the damage, not just stopping things from getting worse but helping them get better.

These people are beacons on their lakes. They prove it’s possible to share your cottage with nature and that having more butterflies and birds makes life at the cottage more interesting and fun.

And more importantly, they’re creating a new legacy that will last long after they’ve left their cottage: an environment full of life; grandchildren who are used to an abundance of nature and expect absolutely nothing less.