A few weeks ago, my wife and I joined up with the Caledon chapter of the Bruce Trail Association for their annual Pot-Luck Walk and Talk. I had the good fortune to be asked to give the late lunch talk and share stories from over forty years of hiking the Bruce Trail with students and family

The morning hike included the chance to reconnect with some old friends and meet a lot of new ones on our Forks of the Credit journey that morning. One of those reconnections was with Sally Moule, a fellow teacher from North York in the heady days of Outdoor and Environmental Education when our students could actually experience the Bruce Trail.

Conversation turned to getting ready for the holiday season and we mentioned that we would be looking for a balsam fir tree the next weekend. Well, as luck would have it, Sally and Dave Moule run the Hockleycrest Farm on the east side of Airport Road, about 4.5 km north of Hwy.9. Beside a wide variety of cut-your-own and precut trees, they also have assorted boughs, baskets and wreaths available. And “all proceeds go towards the Bruce Trail’s Conservancy Program to secure, protect and maintain a continuous corridor containing the Trail along the Niagara Escarpment.”

Not only that, but their woodworking son, Rick, turns and carves custom wooden bowls and utensils, one of which will stirring my bourguignon this weekend. Ah, the joys of hiking outdoors – a reconnection with friends that blessed us with a tree, a spoon, and a Trail protected. All from accepting an invitation to a pot-luck luncheon.

Only one week to go until we celebrate a Wonderful Winter Solstice and a Happy New Year!  May yours be healthy and happy and filled with peace.

***

Skid Crease, Caledon

Note: This SNAP West Bolton Project article was first written by Skid Crease on 17/10/25 for Patti Foley’s Just Sayin’ Caledon’s online community news!

***

ON Thursday, November 23, 2017, at the Glen Eagles Golf Club. a group of “Thought Leaders” were called together by the TRCA, the Town of Caledon, and The Region of Peel for a day of inspired community planning.

The Project is called the Sustainable Neighbourhood Retrofit Action Plan, or SNAP. Our thoughts this day were focused this day on our own community in West Bolton. SNAP has a very simple goal: to focus on working with the community to achieve measurable environmental and neighbourhood improvement. This project is one of six SNAPs happening across the GTA examining municipal priorities, neighbourhood-specific issues and a variety of watershed and regional objectives across a range of theme areas that include:

• Long-standing drainage and erosion issues in Jaffary’s Creek and the surrounding catchment.  Historical note: this Creek used to run past a slaughterhouse, carrying the effluent downstream – the smell used to be so bad that homeowners would have to close their windows and doors!
• Improved water balance and Low Impact Development (LID).
• Watershed regeneration (or, How to Mitigate flooding 101).
• Regional urban forest and public health priorities.
• Energy consumption hot spots.
• Increased active transportation (walk, bike, board, zipline).

The Day opened with a captivating with a musical Red Heart beat accompanying inspiring visuals of the human community enjoined sustainably with the natural environment.  From there, facilitators Hilary, sister Lesley, and _ took us on a journey through our past, present and preferred futures of Caledon and specifically the West Bolton area.

The “Past” room was set up with an informative timeline, data charts and photographs that took us from our paleo past in 7000 BCE (Before Common Era) to the present. The “Future” room had us stretch our thinking to create a wish list of projects – economic development, healthy living, re-creational playspace, and resource efficiency – that would help us develop a healthy, sustainable, environmentally responsible community into the twenty-first century.

Of course, sandwiched in between was the “Present”, and rather than enter into the usual suspects discussion, Hilary took us on a right brain storytelling curve, left brain organized by the traditional plot development sequence for a good short story. We divided into groups of five and were given character cards that outlined each of the “characters” that we were to bring into our story, including one character designed to twist the plot.

I had no idea how this related to the present day West Bolton, but I trusted Hilary’s ability to choreograph a creative design approach. It was not until after lunch that we saw how it all came together – the stories turned out to be a metaphor for the current state of our West Bolton community. I was so taken with the brilliance of the approach that I expanded my group’s story and it is now on my blog at skidcrease.com, endorsed by Hilary, titled The Gardens of a Beautiful Mind. It will appear under “Stories” to make way for this report.

The Glen Eagles provided a nourishing lunch to the participants and demonstrated their environmental responsibility by keeping the thermostat turned down to what felt like 15ºC – the chilly rooms brought everyone closer together after lunch. That was when we found out the metaphorical nature of the characters in our stories.

For example, poor down and out Raju in my story, a character who had given up hope and was about to turn in the towel, turned out to be … no, you’ll have to read the story to get it. But what a mind-shifting exercise to get the participants looking at their community in a totally new way! Suddenly, giving the real “Raju” hope and a new lease on life took on the human dimensions of community care.

In conclusion, the group discussed the need to ensure that the community of West Bolton all knew that they were part of this opportunity, and to use their expertise in establishing a baseline of existing community benefits and needs. We were reminded of the KISS principle – Keep It Simple Stupid. Like when all that the children really wanted in their playground was a swinging rope with a tire on a tree, but what the “experts” designed was a cantilevered mechanical monstrosity on which no children ever played.

These thought leaders were humble enough to know that their ideas were part of a process, evolving through 7000 years of history to the Bolton of the future. Rejuvenated parks for play and just plain relaxing in nature, safe walking/cycling paths, networking of home businesses and the “love economy” provided by volunteers, retrofitting for energy and budget efficiency, education for wiser resource use, and working with the topography of the land to connect neighbourhoods – these ideas and more were left with our facilitators and the SNAP team. Stay tuned, West Bolton, it’s only going to get better!

by Skid Crease

Note, this story was inspired by a collaborative story writing exercise at a recent  SNAP West Bolton “Thought Leaders” workshop.

This is dedicated to the inspiration of facilitator Hilary Van  Welter, CEO of Ascentia, choreographers guiding context to create content

***

The dark grey of the morning mist had begun to lift when Raju finally got out of bed. As usual, it was almost 11:00 am before his feet touched the bare floor and he would have stayed under the covers longer except for the hunger in his belly.

He had run out of Ramen noodles two days ago, but the thought of going out shopping in public – that staring, judging, superior public – had driven him further under the covers. Now he had no choice. Reluctantly, he pulled on some jeans and a fleece hoodie from the pile of clothes on the floor. Then he went to the bathroom sink, splashed some cold water on his face, and did a quick finger comb through hair that badly needed a shampoo. He slipped into his sandals, pulled on a baseball cap, and opened the door.

The hallway was empty as he quietly slipped down the staircase of the old rooming house and into the side alley. He knew how to avoid most of the madding crowds and this route would bring him past the old park. He liked this park because no one played there anymore. It seemed the town had grown up around it and people had forgotten the park was there.

Raju did not like people, or the conversations of people, or the constant scrutiny of people. He had found himself in this small town when he moved out of his home. Moved out? That was overly polite! Driven out would be more like it. Driven out by a domineering father who kept pushing him to higher grades, better jobs, greater success – nothing he did was ever good enough. Driven out by an obsessive mother who questioned every choice he made, every place he went, everything he said and did.

Then one day he snapped. He screamed at his mother, “If I wanted to be questioned every day by the Gestapo, I’d go back in time to Nazi Germany! Tell Father I quit. He can get another lump of clay to mold into his own image!”

And with those words, Raju left, only a backpack hastily stuffed with a few clothes and his favourite childhood story, Hope for the Flowers, he left. He rode his bike to the regional bus commuter lot, ended up on a bus heading north, and got off when his fare was up. A stranger in a strange new land where no one knew him, and he wanted it that way. Raju had started on a deep spiral down, and he was nearing the bottom of the pit.

***

Rachel was on her way to save the world. Well, not all at once, but one person at a time would suit her just fine. Rachel had a gift. She was a fairy godmother. Not in a cartoon “pumpkins to carriages” kind of sense, but in a “humbug to holiday spirit” kind of sense.

Rachel was simply the kind of person who could see the best in everyone. If she had been in a Star Wars movie, she definitely would have been on the Light side of the Force, drawing on all of the creative and positive energy around her to brighten the world.

Rachel had been born this way. Nothing in her growing up should have nurtured such an optimistic force of nature. Her father, a wonderful storyteller, had died when she was quite young, and Rachel had grown up with a mother who drowned her sorrow in a variety of drugs from alcohol to heroine, finally succumbing to opiod addiction a few years ago. Throughout it all, Rachel had found the higher ground, always remembering her father’s last words to her, “Remember Rachel, on the darkest day, the sun is always shining somewhere in our universe.”

Today she was going to bring that sunshine to someone.

***

The sun finally broke out through the clearing mists and shone down on the little town. It was particularly bright on an old neglected property. Where there should have been a vacant park, there were crowds of smiling people of all ages. Where there should have been barren ground, there were rows upon rows of plants growing – sunflowers and kale and tomatoes and cucumbers- almost every garden variety you could imagine! Where there should have been no place to rest, there were benches under beautiful shade trees.

Chloe had made all of this possible. Her family had fallen upon hard times in the recent past. The trickle-down economy hadn’t trickled down to them. Between the high energy costs, and the high transportation costs, and the low minimum wage, times were tough and food was often scarce, so Chloe had promised herself that one day she would build a garden, a wonderful garden where people would come to grow food and laugh and play and never be hungry or sad again.

That dream didn’t fade when Chloe was taken away to become a ward of the Children’s Aid. And now that dream was alive today. When Chloe was very young she had seen a movie on TV called The Field of Dreams and there was a line from the movie that became her cornerstone in life: “If you build it they will come.” She had built her field of dreams, and they were coming.

***

Raju and Rachel saw the poster at the same time. The words: “Free food at Chloe’s Community Gardens” had caught Raju’s attention. The location indicated it was at the old park that was never crowded. Bonus – avoid people, save money and get fed. It was not the poster, but rather Raju’s slumped posture and shuffling gait had caught Rachel’s attention. She knew immediately which heart and spirit she was going to touch today.

As Raju turned toward the community gardens path, Rachel deliberately stepped in front of him. Taken aback, he moved to one side, but Rachel moved with him. ‘Hello,” was all she said. It wasn’t what she said, but rather the sweetness of her voice that made him look up. He found himself staring into clear blue eyes that held his attention like landing lights.

Without flinching she smiled right back into his deep brown eyes. “I’m all alone,” she said, “May I walk with you to the Gardens?”

Raju, who had not spoken to anyone besides his landlord for months, simply nodded, “Yes.”

They moved along the path in silence for a while, Rachel sensing a troubled spirit beside her. At one point, she stumbled and caught his arm for support. Instinctively, Raju reached out with his other hand to steady her. Their eyes met again. “I have been there too,” was all that Rachel said, not taking her eyes off of Raju.

He stood frozen like a deer in the headlights, and then an amazing thing happened. A single tear appeared in the corner of Raju’s left eye. “The window to the soul,” whispered Rachel. And she took his hand as they continued their walk. Raju walked beside her, as meekly as a lamb, all of his anger suddenly gone.

As they turned the final corner to the old park, they were met by an amazing sight. There were people everywhere, young and old, gardening, playing, dancing, sitting quietly – and there at the entrance stood Chloe, waving them forward.

“Welcome to my Gardens, “ said Chloe, “The Gardens of a Beautiful Mind.”

“But,” stammered Raju, “This is incredible! This place has been abandoned for years!”

“If you build it, they will come,” laughed Chloe.

“Hello,” said Rachel, introducing herself, “This is a beautiful place. I can feel the happiness everywhere.”

“Yes,” said Chloe, “We all need a space where we can be happy. And you are?” she asked turning to the wide-eyed young man beside Rachel.

“Raju,” he whispered under his breath, and then more clearly, “Raju.” For the first time in years a genuine smile spread slowly across his face.

“I am so happy you are both here,” smiled Chloe, “Please visit our Community Feast of Fields table – there is always plenty of food for everyone.”

Rachel was still holding his hand. “Come on, Raju, let’s get something to eat. You look like you could use a good meal.” Without any resistance, Raju walked hand in hand with Rachel to the table that looked more like the Cornucopia of Plenty than an old park picnic table. “This is amazing,” exclaimed Raju.

“Yes indeed,” said Rachel wisely, “Isn’t it good to be back?”

Raju looked puzzled, but only for a moment, “Yes,” he smiled, “It is good to be back.”

After their feast, Rachel and Raju walked the gardens, weeding a little here, planting a little there, and sharing stories all the while. Raju was feeling the weight of the world lift from his shoulders, and Rachel was feeling she was fulfilling her life’s purpose. Raju even found himself climbing a tree again to see the whole gardens,

“Rachel,” he shouted down, “I haven’t done this since I was a little kid!” Rachel simply smiled knowingly. They stayed until the light was fading and the gardens began to dim. It was time to go.

“Come back tomorrow,” Chloe called out as all the visitors slowly left the Gardens. She hugged Rachel and Raju as if she never wanted them to leave her.

“Thank you,” spoke Raju from the bottom of his heart. Rachel smiled her sunshine smile at Chloe and took Raju’s hand as they left. “Numquam obliviscar,” whispered Rachel. “What does that mean?” asked Raju. Rachel smiled, “It’s a Latin quote from a story my father used to tell me, “I will never forget.”

***

The Supervisor appeared at the edge of the walkway, “Chloe,” she called. “It’s time to come back!”

Another Supervisor joined her. “Honestly, I don’t know what she sees in that old park! Nothing there but weeds and broken benches.”

“It makes her happy,” said the first Supervisor. “That’s enough.”

Chloe waved goodbye to her friends as her Beautiful Garden faded into mist once again. Happily, she took the Supervisor’s hand and headed back to the Adam Wallace Memorial Care Centre.

***

In a quiet corner of the old park, a butterfly was emerging from its chrysalis.

Numquam obliviscar

The Koffler Scientific Reserve, Joker’s Hill, King, Ontario, CANADA

The beginning of his obituary says it all: KOFFLER, Murray Bernard On Sunday, November 5, 2017 passed on at his home. Murray Koffler – A man who lived his vision to leave this world in a better place than when he entered it. A man who loved and was loved by his family, his friends and all those he touched globally regardless of race, religion, or status.”

One of those better places is at the Koffler Scientific Reserve right here in King. Most of us who love living or walking or just visiting in King know what a jewel it is, like a breathing, purifying oasis above the city of Toronto. And most of us want to protect it from the surging growth spreading north.

It was to that end originally that Murray and Marvelle Koffler decided to protect their Jokers Hill equestrian centre from development. The Kofflers first bought Jokers Hill in King in 1969, using it as their country home and the site of a variety of equestrian and charitable events.

The original patchwork of small 1880’s farms were consolidated in a purchase made by Major General Clarence Mann in the 1950’s. He and his wife, Billie McLaughlin, developed their new estate as a horse farm, putting in a race track, horse barns and opening up pastures.

Today those barns are being remodeled as research pods for University of Toronto students and professors. When I was there on the very cold morning of November 10, workers were just installing a new set of modern energy efficient windows on the old stables, much to the joy of the research staff. Beyond the building renovations, the race track and pasture lands have been turned into ecological science research sites to study the effects of accelerating climate change on evolving ecosystems.

As well as the Koffler Scientific Reserve that takes up most of the 350 hectares on the Oak Ridges Moraine, there are 50 hectares on the eastern portion off Bathurst Street that have a variety of public hiking trails. The main Reserve, however, is closed to the public for very good reason. It contains one of the largest stands of old-growth maple beech forests in Ontario, and an equally sized portion of second-growth forest that now serve as living scientific laboratories for the University of Toronto. Sacred spaces.

I had the privilege of touring the property with KSR director Professor Arthur Weis and Steph Schneider, the property manager who jokingly refers to himself as the onsite “gentleman scientist.”

Professor Weis took over from founding Director, Professor Ann Zimmerman in 2007, when he left the sun-drenched University of California and his role as Professor of Evolutionary Biology. Under his guidance, the former “racing barn” was turned into a state-of-the-art Laboratory for Biodiversity and Global Change Biology. The morning we watched the windows going in on the former stables to block out the -20ºC winds, I wondered if he was doing some California dreaming. But not at all.

Weiss showed me his current project, in layman’s terms what I will call a thermal acceleration experiment in the natural environment. Picture two identical growing plots side by side, with exactly the same species of plants growing in exactly the same pattern. While one plot is subject to the regular vagaries of weather; the other plat has infrared heaters that come on via a computer sensing system that adjusts the temperature over their plots by exactly +2ºC. This gives Weis an experimental, controlled window on the effects of accelerating climate change on plant growth and the variety of predators they attract.

Similarly, on the old pasture lands, the research team has set up cages of plants in fenced protected pods to study the growth patterns of different species as they respond to climate change variations. “We couldn’t do any of this on campus in Toronto,” said Weis. The inference being that without Koffler’s donation, this kind of research could not have taken place.

So unique is this site, that every year 100 – 150 professors, post-doctoral scholars, and students at both the graduate and undergraduate level, trek to the reserve to study the ecology and evolution of species ranging from slugs, to prairie grasses, to hummingbirds. ”

Not to be outdone, Steph Schneider was equally enthusiastic about the 36 identical mini-ponds that had been dug adjacent to a main pond. Here they study the variants in aquatic life and vegetation as they respond to changes in the ecosystem. Remembering the enthusiasm of my students for pond studies, it was refreshing to see this same sense of wonder in two adults marveling at the complexities of the greatest show on Earth – the evolution of natural systems in response to accelerating climate change.

Weis is not only completely immersed in the site and its potential, he feels deeply honoured to be carrying on the vision of Murray Koffler. He confided to me that when Murray and his wife Marvelle made the $18 million land gift to the University of Toronto in 1995, it was totally spontaneous. Originally, the Kofflers had offered it the Province of Ontario as a Provincial Park, but funding was tight and the Province was unable to provide the infrastructure to protect and conserve the area. During an event at Jokers Hill one day, the U of T Chancellor at the time suggested Koffler could always give the lands to the University. “Done,” replied the philanthropist, and the most valuable land gift ever given to a Canadian University was completed over a handshake.

Murray Koffler will be remembered for many things. Most of us knew him as the CEO of Shoppers Drug Mart, and an Order of Canada recipient. Many of us were aware of his philanthropy through innovations like the U of T’s Koffler Institute of Pharmacy and the Koffler Student Centre, the Marvelle Koffler Breast Centre and the Koffler Centre of the Arts in Toronto. Fewer still knew of his generosity towards the Toronto Outdoor Art Show and the Canadian Council for Aboriginal Business.

But for me, as an environmental educator and science journalist, his greatest legacy will be the gift of Jokers Hill. The mission of the Koffler Scientific Reserve at Jokers Hill is very clear:

“toward a sustainable future through research and education on the environment, in the environment.”

 Yes, Mr. Koffler, I believe that you have indeed left this world in a better place than when you entered it. Your passion, humility and philanthropy are an inspiration to your family, friends and community. And, in the current darkness of deniers. the Koffler Scientific Reserve at Jokers Hill will be a beacon of scientific literacy for generations to come.

 ***

Skid Crease, Caledon