Widgeon Slough - Cy Cho
Back in 2017, during the summer between 11th and 12th grade, I attended an experience-based youth leadership program, called the Metro Vancouver Sustainability Toolbox. Every year, this program brings together diverse students from across Metro Vancouver who share a passion for influencing sustainability in their school community through inquiry, collaboration, and leadership.
The first half of the program consisted of a one-week camping experience, where we stayed in cabins and tents, didn't have access to our cell phones, and spent our days connecting with the environment and learning about sustainability. We embarked on many outdoor learning experiences, such as forest bathing, hiking, swimming, and more, and the final few days of this camp were spent canoeing for long hours.
There was one moment during our very first canoe outing that has since become a core memory of mine. I was situated at the very front of the canoe. We enthusiastically canoed out onto the water, rowing and chanting along the way, and eventually we reached Widgeon Slough, where we stopped rowing to allow the water to gently carry us forward. It was a narrow straight path with greenery surrounding both sides. There were plants and mountains in every direction; no sight of any human-made structure. The sun was beaming in the cloudless blue sky, yet the temperature was not too hot and sat at a comfortable warmth. Many of us lounged and laid back in the canoe, while others hung their feet off the side to dip their toes into the cool, clear water. Dragonflies zipped through the air, sometimes landing on our hands. Most of us sat in silence, enjoying the moment, and the only sounds that filled the air was the occasional chatter and laughter and the occasional clicking of my camera.
This moment in time is something that will stick with me forever, as it was the one moment of my life that I felt most at peace. We live in such a busy world, where people are constantly on the move, and anxiety and stress seem to be lurking in every corner, every direction. But as I sat in that canoe with my legs hanging off the side, feeling the cool water with my feet, and basking in the gentle sun, time seemed to stop, and I was able to forget about my worries and live in the moment, simply enjoying the natural environment around me.
From that point onwards, I like to hold this sentiment close to my heart: Water is something that is calming and healing, so it is crucial to protect it by finding ways to connect with water and by sharing our stories with one another.