By Liv Monck-Whipp, Nature Trust Stewardship Coordinator

It’s funny how time works, and it’s funny how brains work.

Almost exactly 1 year ago, I had my first field day as the new Stewardship Coordinator with the Nova Scotia Nature Trust; Joanna Skomoroski, our Stewardship Manager, took me out to the Purcells Cove Conservation Lands to look at the trail system and do some baseline surveys. It was my first day learning about this unique and beautiful place, and I was very glad to be out of the office and on the land to see the work the Nature Trust does.

I was blown away by the stark beauty of this area, made all that much starker by the late winter, early spring season with deciduous leaves not yet out. The trail provides spectacular views of the granite ridges, which pop with light green lichens, the Jack Pines and Black Spruce forests dark against the sky, and of course the pond, which is an intense blue.

And now, a year later, I find myself walking the same trail, looking for other areas where we might do some maintenance work for the many community members who use it. The cycle continues. As I take a step down on the trail, I remember vividly: that exact rock was where I rested briefly when doing some of the trail maintenance work last year.

It’s one of those things, where the brain just remembers these hyper specific details about nature. It’s like we’re wired that way, or, more accurately, it’s like we’re evolved that way, to imprint on and recognize intimately these little details of place.

I can’t even begin to describe how full my brain has become in the past 12 months with details. I’ve come to learn about an entire network of conservation lands across the province, all unique and special in their own way, and all cared for by a network of passionate people, all unique and special in their own way. From the dedicated staff and board, including folks with all kinds of different skills to the amazing partner organizations we work with, and of course our enthusiastic volunteers!

It occurs to me as I walk this trail that I’ve already been on it with so many people, and the volunteers especially have shone through with their skills, energy, and love for these places.

My brain is full, my heart is full. And as this new cycle starts, I know that I’ve only scratched the surface. There is always more to learn and always room to grow. With Twice the Wild achieved, our work is not over. As someone who is intensely dedicated to stewardship, I think about how we’ll care for these places over the many cycles to come. Where stewardship can best be directed to ensure that the long-term commitments we’ve made to these places are upheld. What lessons can be learned and applied in the next year, five years, 10, 50, and beyond.

The Stewardship Team is gearing up to welcome some seasonal Stewardship Assistants to our team, and I’m thinking about all the things I’ll be able to share with them and show them, as part of this longer line of stewardship succession. So as I think about these cycles, I think about what are the ways to make things in this next one even better: easier, kinder, sustainable, impactful, joyful.

March is such a magical time of year for thinking about stewardship. Because much of nature is still waking up out of winter, there’s this dreamy quality, like a lazy Saturday morning where you’re half asleep and see the sun come in. But there’s no rush to do anything, you get to just think and savour what’s to come. At the same time, you’re brimming with hope and anticipation for the day, watching the world come alive.

It’s the perfect time to do these types of walks, thinking about where things are going, where things are at, and reflecting on the previous year.

Those are some thoughts from beside Purcells Pond. I hope to see it again next year around this time, with new lessons learned, new plans to come, and new rocks memorized.