With the stroke of a pen in early September, the PEI Minister of Land and Environment, Darlene Compton, signed into law the creation of the Maskwi Natural Area, a 22-acre parcel of forest, small fields and wetlands in my backyard.

My backyard, in fact. 

I only found out that the papers had been signed a couple of weeks ago and wouldn’t really believe it until I finally held them in my hands last week. It is real, and I’m thrilled and relieved.

I started the process to protect this property with the Island Nature Trust in 2021. Due to the pandemic, staff changes, the need for new surveys and deeds, and some back and forth on the language in the agreement, it took five years to make this dream come true. In human time, it seemed long, but in forest time, it is just a second.

Maskwi is Miꞌkmaq for white birch, which grow in abundance in the forest. No Miꞌkmaq name could be found for this area, so as the last traditional harvest on this land was of birch bark, and that had included beautiful offerings of tobacco to the trees, it seemed to be a good name.

The agreement, a restrictive covenant made under the Natural Areas Protection Act (NAPA) between me, the Island Nature Trust and the provincial government, is necessarily strict, though really it changes nothing as I have been treating the land as if it was a protected area for over 15 years. I would imagine the value of the property decreased as soon as the agreement was signed as it can no longer be built upon, subdivided or cleared, but I was never going to sell it for that anyway as it is priceless to me.

The birds and animals have made no agreement with anyone, of course, and can continue to do whatever they want from now until there are no more governments or humans, which will be a blessed day for non-humans. They can build and harvest in any way they like, which they do anyway, so no change for them either.

It struck me today that the NAPA agreement is a promise similar in many respects to traditional wedding vows: I have promised to look after the land, cherish and keep it safe, in good times and bad. Love it, which I do with my whole heart.

Becoming a protector of a natural area is immensely satisfying at a time when the few people who get a disproportionate amount of attention in this world seem bent on the destruction of everything in pursuit of endless growth and riches. It’s only a tiny chunk of the planet, but it feels like a huge victory.

Grief has made writing difficult for me for the past few months. My thoughts blow around in my head and don’t make it easily to my fingers. This second year of living without my mother has been more difficult than the first. I’m only 18 months into this life sentence and still not really used to it. My one constant joy has been moving through the trees, slowly breathing and observing. She loved walking through the woods, too, so I can imagine her with me.

Luckily dear Jane Siberry perfectly said what I can’t in her 1989 song Bound by the Beauty:

I'm coming back in five hundred years
And the first thing I'm gonna do
When I get back here is to see
These things I love
And they better be here, better be here, better be here

And first I'm going to find a forest
And stand there in the trees
And kiss the fragrant forest floor
And lie down in the leaves
And listen to the birds sing
The sweetest sound you'll hear
And everything the dappled
Everything the birds
Everything the earthness
Everything the verdant
The verdant
The verdant
The verdant green.