Summer is a season of sunshine, play, and unfortunately, excessive water use. As temperatures climb, our reliance on water increases, from watering lawns and filling pools to cooling off with long showers. While these are natural parts of summer life, they also offer an excellent opportunity to teach the next generation about one of the planet’s most precious resources: water.
As World Ocean Day approaches (Sunday, June 8, 2025), Canadians have a unique opportunity to reflect on the incredible role oceans play in our daily lives and the health of the planet. For Canada, whose geography is defined by its extensive marine borders, this day holds exceptional significance. Bordered by the Pacific, Arctic, and Atlantic Oceans, and with over 243,000 kilometres of coastline, the longest of any country, Canada's environment, economy, and cultural identity are deeply entwined with the health of its marine ecosystems.
Every March 22, the world celebrates water in all its myriad forms. This year’s World Water Day theme is Glacier Preservation and protecting our frozen water resources for future use. While this theme is important to life all over the world, here in Canada it is vital, as our country is home to the Canadian Arctic and the Rocky Mountains, both landscapes that rely heavily on the conservation of this frozen resource.
For the 2024/2025 academic year, the Cinema Studies department at the University of Toronto launched a new experiential learning course called Sensory Ecologies: Theory and Praxis in Environmental Studies. Led by Professor Nadine Chan, our class has explored how media helps us construct and understand the concept of environmental degradation. Through scholarly research, various forms of media, and even experimenting with making our own media projects, we have seen firsthand how important storytelling is in conceptualizing the environment, and stoking passion for climate justice.
Every time I enter the ocean, it shows me something beautiful and unexpected. I’m looking for sharks, and a fin whale surfaces, breath bursting into fine mist. Sea lion pups encourage me to play, spinning in the water, swimming fast then turning on a dime and blowing bubbles. Floating at the surface, a comb jelly mesmerises me with rainbow bands of bioluminescence.
Where the Amable du Fond River flows from the northern edge of Algonquin Park, just before it starts zigzagging across our farm, there is a cataract with an unusual shape. It’s not big like the nearby Eau Claire Gorge, maybe it drops 35 feet altogether, but not all in one go. Step-by-step, its water falls down and across a misshapen staircase of big stone shelves. I go to this place often.
In light of the storm that is COVID-19, public health officials have insisted on several necessary measures to prevent infection - from self-isolation and sheltering in place, to physical distancing and wearing gloves and face coverings while in public, to washing your hands frequently with soap and water for twenty seconds.
But what happens when your community doesn’t have access to enough clean water to effectively keep yourself and your family safe?
Sunday, March 22nd is World Water Day, an annual United Nations Observance focusing on the importance of freshwater.
