Over The Hedge

We are not alone.

We live in the city and burbs of Montreal with a blissful detachment from nature. If it gets too cold we retreat to our warm homes, if it gets too hot we lounge about in air conditioned comfort. If we have to go anywhere we can hop a bus or jump in our cars and be whisked off to just about anywhere. Our habitat is mostly one of concrete and pavement with designated and well-groomed green spaces.

Last night whilst huffing and puffing through the streets of Pointe-Claire on my evening run I crossed paths with a large, lumbering raccoon. We scared the bejeebers out of one another. The raccoon scrambled up a telephone pole and I nearly ran into a parked car.

You wouldn't know it from cruising the streets, but the island of Montreal is teeming with wildlife (and I'm not referring to Crescent Street on a Friday night). Raccoons are among many of highly adaptable urban creatures that inhabit our neighbourhoods. They share their territory with ground-hogs, squirrels, muskrats and, your favourite and mine, the skunk. There are also foxes, bats, rats and an abundance of field mice. You may be surprised to learn that the western part of the island is also home to brown snakes, a large herd of deer, a small group of coyotes and an industrious collection of beavers. Not to mention a wide variety of birds beyond the lowly sparrows, pigeons and grackles.

It's easy to forget, or even become arrogant about our place in nature. Most of the time, with the exception of a few fearless creatures, we don't experience the complexity of life around us. Sure there are pests like mosquitoes, flies, wasps, roaches and the aforementioned mice and rats, but these are but a tiny (and irritating) part of nature.

It seems only a few years ago that I learned that we share close quarters with hummingbirds. If you hang a feeder they'll appear seemingly out of nowhere. One night last summer, I was amazed to see fireflies buzzing around my suburban back yard. When I was working in the city I was equally astounded to see hawks circling above. The birds of prey were brought in to control the pigeon population. It turns out that skyscrapers make a rather nice substitute for cliffs and are now thriving in a very unnatural setting.

We often debate the importance of protecting the environment, but we don't often consider just how closely we are connected to it. I suspect if we spent an evening in our backyards sporting night vision goggles we might get a better appreciation of those mysterious paw prints.

Recently the city of Montreal acquired some land on the West Island, specifically in the area of l'Anse-à-l'Orme, to designate as a protected green zone. It was only in reading the news story that I learned about the huge variety of plants and animals that exist in our city's back yard. I always assumed the only creatures left on the island were the ones that adapted well to human civilization were the only ones hanging around the island, the rest headed for the hills long-long ago.

It made me think that perhaps the one message we don't hear enough with regards to the state of the environment is that it's not too late. Yes there are problems, and yes there are endangered creatures, but there is also hope. Nature, it seems, is a bit more durable than we thought. That is not to say we can continue to ignore the problems or postpone our actions to a time when we are faced with a serious crisis.

The populations of some of the rare creatures I mentioned are not growing, they are threatened. The good news is that they're still around, living in a sustainable ecosystem and, with some diligence on our part, will continue to do so for many years. The better news is that we can coexist with these creatures, in many ways almost completely oblivious of one another.

We don't get a lot of do-overs when it comes to our environment, but it seems as if nature is a bit more forgiving that we deserve, and more importantly, a lot closer than we think.