Guest Post By Barbara E. Smith
Board Member, Kawarthas Northumberland RTO8
I didn’t leave nature’s beauty behind in British Columbia, I just found another version of it here in southeastern Ontario.
When I tell people I moved from British Columbia to Ontario, I keep hearing the same line: “Really? People usually move from Ontario to B.C., not the other way around.”
Some say it with confusion, some with humour, some with genuine disbelief. Yes, B.C. has a reputation: mountains, ocean, rainforest and overall, beauty with a capital B.
But every time someone says it, I find myself wanting to reply, “Have you stopped and looked around here?”
One thing is clear since moving down here: beauty doesn’t disappear just because the mountains do. It simply changes shape.
Here in southeastern Ontario, I’ve discovered rolling hills connected by thousands of country roads that wind through quaint little villages with stone churches, historic houses, farmers’ markets, general stores that haven’t changed in fifty years, and, very often, a bakery selling “the best” butter tart found on the Butter Tart Tour! Ask any of the many friendly, smiling residents in town.
When you move from one side of the country to another, you quickly discover that we all carry pre-conceived notions and opinions about people we’ve never met, in places we’ve never lived. Honestly, I was guilty. And now that I’ve lived in both, let’s clear the air (which, for the record, is just as fresh in Ontario). The truth about people is this: kindness and hospitality exists everywhere. So does grumpiness. Geography doesn’t control it.
I’ve also heard, “don’t you miss the green, mild winters?” If we want to compare which area has more sunshine, Ontario clearly wins this one. It’s true, B.C.’s signature trait is rain; from November to March on the “wet coast” weeks can pass without seeing the sun. My brother once described a stay with me in B.C. with the words, “I feel like I’m living in a cave.” And don’t kid yourself, it does snows in B.C. and no one is ever prepared for the chaos that follows given the terrain. However, now living in the east, when the humidity of an Ontario summer finally breaks it’s almost spiritual, and only forgotten and forgiven when the magnificient colors of fall arrive. Of course, it’s no secret that no place has perfect weather.
But what surprises me here the most is the water. The lakes. Oh, so many lakes, and so much lakeshore! And not just “drive three hours, take a ferry and hike ten kilometres” lakes as in B.C., but actual accessible shoreline you can stroll, sit beside, or swim in. Believe me, those glacier-fed B.C. lakes and the ocean are mighty, but icy cold throughout the year. The shorelines of the many lakes of the Kawarthas Northumberland region feed the “cottage country” lifestyle, offering boating, fishing, swimming and water sports, and so much beauty it’s hard to describe.
I’ve also discovered the historic Trent-Severn Waterway, a canal route offering recreational boating, paddling, fishing, with sections along the Trans Canada Trail network available for hiking and cycling. Talk about outdoor lifestyle—and it’s surrounded by the Trent-Severn Trail Towns, which promise culinary delights such as restaurants, bakeries, and pubs, as well as accommodations, shopping, and many festivals. So much to explore on single or multi-day trips. It will take us years to explore all that’s offered in this region.
Yes. There is so much to love in both parts of Canada, if you stop, breathe, and simply look around.
Without a doubt, BC is stunning. I will always appreciate its dramatic beauty. But Ontario, and the Kawarthas Northumberland area in particular, has a quieter magic. It doesn’t shout; it invites. It doesn’t tower; it unfolds. It doesn’t restrict; it flows.
It’s not a “better place;” it’s simply a different expression of the same magnificent country we call “Canada.”
The moral of my story is, if you’ve always lived in the east, or the west, do yourself a favour and visit the parts of Canada you’ve never been to. I believe you’ll be surprised at what you discover—and it may even spark a renewed sense of awe in the place you’ve always lived and thought you knew.
