Often times, our natural tendencies and interests from early on will pop up repeatedly throughout our lives. For example, when I was quite young I remember thinking about land use and sustainability. In a way. I obviously didn’t have the words for it. I wasn’t thinking like an environmentalist, and I didn’t know about climate change. I was just curious. I actually remember the thoughts I had about land use, but I don’t remember how I got there, so I’ll try to fill in the gaps.
I must have walked by a construction site with an adult and learned what was happening. All the buildings around me, like the one I lived in, were being put together. They didn’t just exist automatically. People would dig a hole, lay a foundation, yada yada yada, and a building appeared (right?). Neat. Then, fuelled by hours of playing with Tonka trucks, I probably started to pay attention every time I crossed a construction site. And that happens a lot. When you live in a city, there’s always some kind of construction work being done. Buildings go up, roads get widened, and pipes are laid neatly underground.
As I walked by these construction sites again and again, my kid brain started to notice how unending it was. Again, not as an environmentalist. I just noticed that everything was always being constructed. Always built up and built out. Was it ever finished? Presumably things were built because we needed them, and then when we had all the buildings we needed, the construction would stop. Maybe we’d even take down buildings when we didn’t have a use for them anymore. But the human-governed homeostasis that I envisioned didn’t seem to exist. I obviously didn’t know exactly how out of balance we were, but over time it became clear that we had just one default mode: build more. I couldn’t help but think: What if we run out of space to build on?
Fast forward to today, and it turns out my intuition wasn’t too far off. All around the world, cities are growing bigger and bigger. We rarely take down the things we’ve constructed. And yes, we are running out of space to build on. But we’re losing more than just space to build on. We’re losing what that “space” contains: nature.
Another one of my earliest tendencies that surfaces again and again is my love of nature. To be fair, I’m not quite sure whether it’s the nature I love most or the frolicking. Nevertheless, they frequently co-occur. Every summer my family traveled around British Columbia, car camping in different places each year. And on most of those camping trips, we’d fill our days hiking a trail or two. The pace of hiking was always a bit slow for me, so I’d frequently run ahead of the group or go off trail to run along logs and find the biggest stump to stand on.
I’ve always needed to move. I can even remember getting singled out one time in school for not being on task, but instead of getting scolded, I was told to run a lap around the school. I don’t know if my teacher thought she was punishing me or if she could see into my soul, but there couldn’t have been a sweeter gift than being told to put my things down, leave the classroom, and get some fresh air. No, desks have never quite cut it for me.
Again fast forwarding to today, and I’m giving in to the tendencies that keep popping up again and again, demanding attention. After planting my butt in a chair for far too long, I’m taking a pause and experimenting with something different. I’ve planted my butt on my bike and have begun pedalling across Canada to visit some of the most important areas for nature. These are called Key Biodiversity Areas, and there are hundreds to see (and tens of thousands of kilometres to bike). The adventure is called the Biodiversity Bikeride, and my goal is to raise $35,500 to support ongoing conservation efforts that focus on biodiversity.
Why biodiversity? The natural world we love and depend on will only remain stable if its ecosystems are thriving and healthy. On a personal level, I’m taking it upon myself to see the nature that I know is threatened. For many places, it may truly be now or never.
Great to meet you, Kevin, in Morse SK just now!