For me, Ancaster, Ontario is more than just my home. It is the place of my ancestors: where they lived, tended and tried to tame the land, where they struggled and planted and let the stars determine when they should plant and when they should harvest. It is where generations of my ancestors lived, breathed, toiled, laughed, cried, quarrelled, reconciled and loved each other. It is where they are buried, a reminder of our brief time on this earth and that it is my turn to tend the land and care for the community.
The family land in Ancaster consists of 100 acres and everyday I awake feeling like I am embarking on an adventure. As the years have passed, I have realised that my responsibility to the land is not just in homage to my ancestors, but to contribute something to the greater community.
Trees, afterall, absorb and store greenhouse gases.
And on my farm I have opted to plant an orchard full of plums, apples, pears and cherries.
I have planted many Kentucky coffee trees, which produce seeds that have been used by people on the continent for thousands of years.
But perhaps the greatest responsibility I feel is to the swath of old Carolinian forest on the farm.
“The southern fringe of that ancient forest, a region encompassing most of today’s southern Ontario, known as the Carolinian forest ecosystem, is now Canada’s most reduced and vulnerable landscape,” according to an article in The Tyee. “Less than 15 percent of it remains in scattered stands across southern Ontario.”
My farm is one of the few pockets of safety for Carolinian forest ecosystem wildlife that exist in Southern Ontario. As the wild world is further encumbered by the advance of man, I feel it is my greatest responsibility to maintain this shred of hope for them. Ancaster is my home, and it is their home, too.
“In any case, for the Blanding’s Turtle and its Snapping and Softshell cousins, for the Massasauga Rattler and its Rat Snake relative, for the darting electric blue dragonflies and other refugee species clinging to existence around the sun-dappled pond in the woods, “it’s not one thing,” Scott Gillingwater, staff species-at-risk biologist for the Upper Thames R. Conservation Authority and an advisor to Canada’s committee that identifies endangered species told The Tyee. “It’s not 10 things. It’s humans.”
Just as my ancestors realised when they established themselves in Ancaster, our time on earth is limited, but our influence can be lasting. Living on the farm and being part of a community that has shaped my family for generations makes me legacy-minded. I want to do well by this land and by my home while I am here. Does this mean my efforts will lead to the survival of the species prominent in the Carolinian forest on my land? Maybe not, but I need to know that I am doing my part—for myself and my legacy.
When I walk the Saugeen River finding my favourite spots for casting, I think of what a splendid gift the natural world around Ancaster is. When I lace-up my running shoes and take to the country roads, sometimes managing 40 miles per week, I consider myself so fortunate to know this land as I do.
Maybe it’s nostalgia for the past that makes us cling to neighbourly behaviour in these modern times. Perhaps it is, in some respects, all of us paying homage to those who came before us, because we are in a place where we can—where these little kindnesses that make a community are appreciated and even encouraged.
I don’t quite know what it is.
What I do know is that I begin each day with a feeling of gratitude when I wake and walk the land of my ancestors and admire the now towering trees they planted as saplings, trees that now bear fruit that my children enjoy. Stories are told in the rings of trees when they are cut, but I rather like to imagine the stories while they are living and flourishing. My ancestors had a picnic under this branch. My great grandfather used to sit and read books in the maple tree in the front yard.
On this land, the diversity and splendour of nature is on full display, greatly thanks to the sweat equity of those who came before me, but partly due to my own hard work. I think of the hard work that went into creating Ancaster in the early days and my appreciation and gratefulness only increases when I walk in the community that my family helped shape.
Ancaster was founded in 1793. Imagine that: the untamed land, just over a decade from when settlers first headed into Ontario. The abundance of waterfalls and the presence on the Niagara Escarpment had to put early settlers in awe of the natural beauty of the area.
Today, as urban demands and population growth place strain on the land, Ancaster still remains an icon of balance between people and nature. Hiking trails are in abundance, often to one of the many waterfalls in the area: Webster’s Falls, Tiffany Falls, Albion Falls, and the Devil’s Punchbowl, to name just a few.
The Niagara Escarpment (famous for Niagara Falls) is a 650 mile rugged ridge that extends east and west across the northeastern United States and part of Canada. It offers such biodiversity and beauty that to not immerse yourself in it and embrace it at least on some level should be sacrilege. There are an abundance of hikes into the escarpment that vary from easy to difficult.
The history of the area is fascinating and vibrant. In fact, one of the most impressive historical structures in Ancaster is a small house that meant a whole lot to its owners and to countless others.
Enerals and Priscilla Griffin migrated to Upper Canada from the United States after they self-liberated from slavery in 1829. Enerals purchased the house and 50 acres in 1834 and settled with his family. “For over 150 years, their descendants lived and worked on the farm as members of the Ancaster community,” according to the Ontario Heritage Trust. “The Griffin House stands today as a testament to the determination of the African-American men and women who settled in Upper Canada.”
Now a National Historic Site, Griffin House, is representative of the “solid, simple architectural style once common in Upper Canada.” Since acquired by the Hamilton Conservation Authority in 1988, the Griffin House was restored to its pre-1850 appearance, according to the Ontario Heritage Trust website.
A short drive from Ancaster is the Royal Botanical Garden, a can’t miss for gardening and non-gardening enthusiasts alike. It is simply stunning.
“Royal Botanical Gardens spans an area of about 10 km by 4 km, dominated by two coastal wetlands, and glacial-carved landscapes that extend from the lake up to the Niagara Escarpment plateau,” according to Google reviews.
The natural and historical significance of Ancaster and the greater Hamilton area can’t be contested. Plus who knows? Maybe it is the connection to the land and proximity to the natural world that makes people in the community so kind, so approachable, and so willing to help neighbours.
In fact, the American Psychological Association says that nature is nurturing and helps with “improved attention, lower stress, better mood, reduced risk of psychiatric disorders and even upticks and empathy and cooperation.”
Whether it’s the history, the people, the land, or a combination of all the above, Ancaster is a special place to call home, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.