Watermark Project

McGarry Creek, ON - Trenda Hosford

2026-10-17T18:19:10Z

I live on McGarry Creek and it is a spawning ground for pickerel and also has many beavers trying to dam it and create another lake

Quarry Lake, AB - Sarah Freeman

2026-10-12T19:42:02Z

Quarry Lake is a small lake beneath the powerful mountains of Canmore, Alberta, yet she holds so much.

Once a quarry, her transformation into water feels like layers of healing, a place once carved from the earth now holding life, reflection and community.

I swim and train in her waters, gather women for swim experiences, share full moon swims with friends, and sometimes simply sit beside her.

Families, paddlers and swimmers each bring their own stories. She holds joy and grief, solitude and connection.

When I slow down, I see the mountains and trees reflected on her surface and the life surrounding her. I feel part of her story, and with that comes a responsibility to respect and care for her.

Little Smokey River, AB - Janelle Spry

2026-09-20T18:56:21Z

As of recent, I went to one part of the Little Smokey River. This is located near my reserve of Sturgeon Lake Cree Nation. Before my moshum passed away, he would always point and tell us where he was born. He would tell us stories of trapping, hunting, and his time on the land with his parents. He really loved his parents and picked up the ethic of hardwork.

The first time I visited this spot was because this is where he requested his ashes to be spread. My family and consultation planned a day to quad to this spot. When we arrived there was this open space, and a tree line where the cabins were and then the river. To see and be in that spot, I imagined life on the land and saw the foundations of the cabins.
He told alot of stories, but this is one spot I wanted to share.

The Fox River, USA - Logan Stewart

2026-09-16T00:17:40Z

Under the sun and the hum of little high wing fixed landing gear single prop planes I had again set forth to explore new routes by which to bike.
For a long while, I was cooped up, restrained solely to my home town, and the westerly farm fields. I hadn’t yet known of the Miller rd. Passage.
Now having found it, I slipped through every morning before the sun could bring her full heat to bare.
I had decided that today, I would follow the hum of the planes, and see what lay along the way to the airfield.
Having found it somewhat uneventfully I pressed further out to the East.
Crossing over a bridge I came to a wooded area, and tracing the path I came abreast a small twinkling stream, peppered with the gilded sunbeams sprinkling down from between guarding trees.
Following that stream even further still I shot out into an opening, swung downhill along a double hairpin and stopped at the bridge.
I stood there for some time taking it in. I had reached the Fox River, and looking on the bank was the city of Algonquin.
Hanging over the quaint brick shops of the downtown was the ever-rising sun. I turned about, drank at a fountain, and road back.
For the rest of my summers in McHenry County I would almost invariably ride along that path by the river, it was a daily activity for me to ride the 45 minutes out, and spend an hour or two riding North or South along the banks.
Fairly often, for my Birthday I’d picnic by that same river with my friends in Dundee. I’ve spent a lot of time there, and that river is important to me.

Lake Ontario - Elizabeth Oldfield

2026-09-06T18:28:39Z

The image I chose for my Lake Ontario watermark was taken at Porter on the Lake Beach in Youngstown, New York on a cool, sunny morning in mid spring. It's memorable to me because it was a rare and precious moment when I felt welcomed into a glimpse of the pre-industrialized world.

I live in Erie County but had taken a short drive to a small public access beach in Youngstown, New York while my daughter was at an activity in Niagara County. I usually took the opportunity to spend time at the shore of this area of Lake Ontario when I had the opportunity. I've gathered a collection of special sightings such as mink prints in the snow, the Toronto skyline, and the countless wonderful shapes of the water freezing as it splashes across the stones in winter.

On this morning, for a brief time, there were no human noises. No voices, vehicles, boats, planes, or construction sounds. The blues of the sky and water were nearly blended and masses of gulls dotted the horizon with black and white specks. I was photographing the beautiful sight when an osprey swooped down to catch a fish. It was me with just the sky, the glistening water, the gulls, and the stunning osprey.

This is a moment I think of when I see or hear the original and most befitting name for this lake.

My Lake Ontario watermark, at this time of its name being challenged, is more of a collection of water moments. In thinking about my connection to Lake Ontario, there are no major connections but a variety of small ones. It's the water body that my father insisted had "the best skipping rocks", it's a black, noisy, and spooky place as I stand in the gazebo at Niagara-on-the-Lake during a ghost tour. It's lunch on a patio in Sodus Bay while looking down and seeing fish casually swimming beneath us. It's a glimpse of a deep blue, breathtaking sight from the QEW while driving from Buffalo to Toronto. It's a memorable ride on a ferry to Centreville Amusement Park when my daughter was small. Lake Ontario is climbing to the top of the Old Fort Niagara Lighthouse and thinking of both my American and Canadian ancestors at the end of the 18th and beginning of the 19th century, choosing where they thought their families' best futures might be, or being forced from their homes in Canada during the War of 1812, or having siblings separate and settle on both sides of the political borders.

Lake Ontario, with its distinct location between the mighty Niagara and St. Lawrence Rivers, inspires me to stay connected to people and organizations who will protect its original name and its health as we navigate this time period in its very long life.

Port Stanley, ON - Tiana W

2026-08-25T15:18:15Z

When I was young at the beach, I remember running feeling the sand in between my toes. It felt hot, gritty, smooth. Ahead of me, I looked at the ocean stretching far into the distance, sparkling under the sunlight. The waves moved toward the shore and broke little by little, leaving wet marks on the sand. I ran slowly and eventually I walked closer to the water and watched it wash over my feet before sliding back away again.

When I was young at the beach, I remember being surrounded by my family. I smelled sunscreen, food, seaweed. The seaweed smell was really strong and couldn't get out of my nose after a while. I remember the hot sand under my feet, the cool water on my skin, and the breeze on my face. As I walked along the shore with my family I would explore the smooth shells, wet sand, and the small rocks. Being with my family made the beach feel so special.

When I was young at the beach, I felt happy, excited, curious as I stayed near the water. I always laughed while running along the beach and feeling free without any worries. I was a little nervous when the waves came closer, making me also feel brave. The beach was a place where my feelings felt light and easy. I felt safe knowing my family was nearby, and being with my family made me feel comfortable. Every moment felt special, and my emotions stayed positive the entire time I was there.

At the beach, I always looked forward to playing in the water. I remember my mom calling me to come back to the car, but I didn't want to leave yet. I felt disappointed knowing the day was ending, but at the same time I felt grateful for the time I spent there. I stayed near the waves lingering a little longer because of how much I was enjoying myself. When I finally came out of the water I took one last look at the ocean and smiled. This is a moment I will always remember and something that I still look forward to doing again.

Irish Lake, ON - Kylie W

2026-08-25T14:12:59Z

When I was young at the lake, I remember sitting at the edge of our dock as I dangled my feet over the end, into the cool, cold, refreshing water. I swished my feet around in circles as if I was stirring a pot. I remember feeding a gray fish party mix, and how the fish spat it out. Yet in distaste that same fish would come back to visit our dock like we were old friends. I remember ripping the leaves of a green cedar tree, and throwing them into the lake and pretending I was making a potion.

When I was young at the lake, I would hear music from a nearby dock, people, laughing, swimming, talking. I smelled fresh air from our opening at the dock, breathing it in, reminding me of a nice day at the beach. When eating candy by the lake for a nice treat, it tasted like a sugary fruit explosion in my mouth. I swished my hand in the cool water as I watched it make ripples in the water. I remember how that small action of swishing the water rippled across the whole lake.

When I was young at the lake, I felt happy to have my own space to run around in. It felt freeing to take moments to myself to run, swim, play. I was always curious about the old outhouse, which had a moon shape carved on the top. I always wondered what was inside, if there were bugs or if it was still in use. Somehow, the biggest mystery of the lake for me was that outhouse. It made me
excited when I got to the lake. I remember always feeling free, and joyful and excited to be there.

At the lake, I always remember enjoying being there, and being able to hang out with my sister at the dock. I remember throwing tiny pebbles in the lake with her, pretending we were going to fill the whole lake with rocks. Running around, playing tag as the breeze blew across my face, I remember so many things. One clear thing I do remember is that I always had a fantastic time. I was happy when I was there, and I knew that each time, I would continue to make good memories.

Wollaston Lake, ON - Leo V

2026-08-25T14:01:29Z

When I was young at the lake, I remember swimming with my cousins, close to my grandparent's cottage dock. We would swim out to a big rock off the left side of the dock and when we got to the rock we would jump in the water and splash,splosh,swoosh!
I remember kayaking around the big island that was about 100m out from the dock and when we paddled out we would sometimes go over the waves from passing boats. Going around the island we could see many different types of fish, that were mostly gray and about 6 inches long, you could see them by the shallow, rocky and lush edges of the island.

When I was young at the lake, the zebra muscles felt like sharp razors, with each step slowly slicing my feet. I felt the squishy sand going between my toes by the shallow sides of the dock. The cold breeze smelled like water, well nourished grasses and land. It just felt so cold, fresh and calming. Every day I would wake up to the sound of motor boats blazing across the water, and the sound of jet skis jumping waves. Sometimes we could even hear the annoying sound of seagulls squawking, whining and yelling.

When I was young at the lake, I was always so excited to go jet skiing. I could feel the wind rush in my face and my hair blowing back. I remember venturing to the other side of the lake to jump off a massive rock hanging over the water. I remember feeling a rush of adrenaline and then, before I knew it, I was ten feet under the water. One time I jumped from the big rock and landed in the shallow part of the water where a shell lodged into my foot. I miss that breezy, cold and fresh air.

At the lake, I always remember going swimming in the cold, clean and calming water. I love jumping off all the rocks into the water and trying not to fall off the unsteady paddle board into the frigid water. I look forward to doing many more fun things this summer at Wollaston Lake!

Burridge Lake, ON - Annie T

2026-08-25T13:59:22Z

When I was young at the lake, I remember driving to my grandpa's cottage. It felt like an eternity waiting to arrive. I spent the whole six hour drive counting each minute passing by, as my eyes slowly dropped. The only thing keeping me awake was knowing that in a few hours I would be at that cottage again. I'd be back at the pond, bonding with the water, with the animals, and with the peace the water brings me.

When I was young at the lake, I sat on the edge of the old, creaky, wooden dock, connected to my grandpa's cottage, watching all the orange, tiny, beautiful fish. Occasionally bigger, different coloured fish would appear. The turtles on the logs, the canoes and boats attached to the dock, and the slimy seaweed flowing with the waves from the wind brought me peace. I remember sitting criss crossed on the unbalanced piece of wood, as the reflection of the water glistened in
my eyes.

When I was young at the lake, I watched the fish with my dad. As they swam along I could hear the deep, comforting, ecstatic voice of my dad shouting when he saw a big fish jumping out of the water. I remember hearing the calm splashes of the waves, and the sound of toes kicking the water. The water felt oddly calming, slightly touching my toes mixing with the slight breeze on the hot summer day.

At the lake, I always remember how I felt at night, the happiness, excitement and energy overflowing my body. I remember the calmness, peace, and joy slowly creeping in from the fact that this small event gave me time to spend with my dad. The moments that were meant to waste time, be carefree, turned into one of my greatest memories.

Port Stanley, ON - Tahira T

2026-08-25T13:55:18Z

When I was young at the beach, I remember looking at Lake Erie stretched wide, blue, endless in front of me. I remember riding a ski-doo with my twin sister and my dad. My dad held us tight and steady and strong making sure we didn't fall as we bounced over the waves, splashed through the water, and laughed with every turn. I remember looking back at the shore and seeing my mom, sister, and baby brother, who had stayed behind digging, building, playing in the sand.

When I was young at the beach, I heard waves crashing, people talking, and my baby brother's cries, giggles, and whimpers floating through the air. I smelled fresh, clean lake air, salty sunscreen, and warm pizza waiting for us after the sun began to set. The sand felt hot and calming and soft beneath my feet. I remember laying on my floatie flat on my back, letting my toes dip into the water, cold, refreshing.

When I was young at the beach, I felt excited, fearless, alive as the ski-doo jumped over the waves. At the same time, I felt calm and peaceful and safe with the water surrounding me. The lake filled me with happiness, comfort, and freedom.
At the Beach, I always looked forward to slowing down, laughing together, and talking with my family. I remember eating pizza, watching the sun set into the water, and listening as the day eventually turned quiet and peaceful and golden. I miss those moments of comfort, laughter, joy, and I will carry all the memories I made at Port Stanley Beach with me forever.