NEWS

Proud ‘tree hugger’ warns of constant threat to our ravine system

If you want to pin a tree-hugger medal on Floyd Ruskin, go right ahead.

“I’d wear it as a proud badge of honour,” says the Riverdale resident.

Which might seem a little odd for someone who grew up in the concrete and asphalt of Brooklyn, N.Y.

All these years later in Toronto, Ruskin finds himself a much sought-after advocate for the restoration and preservation of flora and fauna in the Don Valley.

Much restoration work has been accomplished in the valley that was once home to industry that used it or, as Ruskin might say, abused it. He speaks of oil tanks, a garbage dump, refineries, smelting factories, brick factories, tanneries, breweries and mills.

“The list goes on right up and down the Don. It’s all gone. It’s been the work of people who care.”

Floyd Ruskin pointing
SUCCESS STORY: Ruskin shows the “small urban forest” that developed in the park from 1990 plantings he was involved with. (Alexei Malakhov/Streeter)

Ruskin recalls a modest example of his own restoration work. He planted his first tree in the valley about 1990 as part of a tree-panting project with local school children, including the one his daughter attended.

“Today, it’s a small urban forest,” he says about that site at the north end of Riverdale Park East.

One tree, he points out, leads to an entire ecological system.

“To me it’s never just about a single tree because every single tree supports a very diverse habitat from the tiniest insects all the way up to predator mammals and birds,” he says.

A happy day

Ruskin’s respect for the valley mirrors that of North America’s Indigenous people who for thousands of years saw it as a source of sustenance. For them the Don River, teeming with salmon, was part of their larder.

“There has always been a large Indigenous presence along the Don,” Ruskin says. The Don River Valley Park website says human settlement in the valley can be traced back to 7,000 years ago.

Ruskin always keeps in mind the Seventh Generation Principle of the ancient Iroquois.

“It’s about looking forward,” says Ruskin. “What’s the legacy I leave for future generations.”

For Ruskin a happy day is hiking through the valley and leading walking groups.

“I love explaining and showing people how important it is and how much enjoyment we can get out of it,” he says. “It’s immersing myself in the natural world instead of the built world. It’s about the sights and smells of the woods and the sounds of the woods.”

He likes to emphasize how close nature is to city people who have little or no idea what lies beyond the roads and skyscrapers of their everyday life.

“We can be in the woods and see a deer and ten minutes away in the centre of Canada’s largest city at Yonge and Bloor. Nature can be that close.”

Ruskin is the founder of A Park for All, a conservation and environmental advocacy group with 2,400 members. Additionally, by the end of this year he hopes to graduate as a leader with the Toronto Nature Stewards who, by year’s end, will be responsible for maintaining almost 50 natural areas across the city.

He also admires the work of the Toronto Field Naturalists (turning 100 this year), the Task Force to Bring Back the Don, and early conservationist Charles Sauriol who started the Don Valley Conservation Association.

At times, caring for the environment can be frustrating when commercialization  comes along to undo what environmentalists have accomplished.

A big win for him and fellow environmentalists with the group Don’t Mess With the Don was convincing Metrolinx it was a bad idea to build a rail yard in the heart of the valley for its new Eglinton Crosstown LRT. Metrolinx has abandoned that idea.

But now, says Ruskin, a developer is eyeing the Flemingdon Park Golf Club area next to the Don River for condominiums.

“There’s always this constant threat,” he says. “Any encroachment into our ravine system sets a precedent and I believe that developer lawyers are paid better and they’re better than city lawyers and developers tend to win.”

He asks whether it is any wonder wildlife is encroaching on human territory.

Maybe it’s tit-for-tat. After all, humans have encroached on wildlife territory.

When he sees a coyote crossing the Danforth east of the Bloor Viaduct in the middle of the day, he can guess why.

Floyd Ruskin in Don Valley
HIS PASSION: He wants to be remembered for doing his civic duty and giving back to the community, Ruskin says. (Alexei Malakhov/Streeter)

“We’ve pushed them out of their space with the highway, the railway, the hydro lines. It’s no wonder they’re up here,” Ruskin says.

“The more we encroach on their natural spaces, the more they have to seek refuge on our city streets.”

The valley is a highway for wildlife and a resting ground for migrating birds. When it’s affected by development, Ruskin asks “where do those birds go, where do those squirrels go? We’re destroying their home.”

If he’s remembered for anything he wants it to be about his passion, commitment and civic responsibility.

“It’s up to everyone to step up and it doesn’t matter whether you’re doing it for the Don Valley, whether you’re doing it for Meals on Wheels or reading to seniors … give something back,” Ruskin says.

“Find out what your passion is and commit to doing it.”