Joseph Naytowhow

In my travels as a young man searching for meaning in my life I’d often go to ceremonies where I would sit with Elders, offering to help them with their work in exchange for knowledge. They would be happy to see me. In those days not many people wanted to learn. All the elders I’d meet would light a braid of what looked like common grass. I loved the sweet smell of the smoke and found comfort in it. In my language, nehiyowîwin, or Cree, I was told this was called wîhkask.

Diana Charbos

I remain fascinated with the visual elements of southwest Saskatchewan and explore energy in its physical, psychic and spiritual forms as a means to understand my interdependent relationship with the land. (Image cropped.)

There's a house party about to happen at Wallace Stegner House in Eastend, SK. Well… sort of. It’s a virtual house party complete with friends dropping in for some reading and tunes. And it happens to be Wallace Stegner’s 112th birthday.

Bill Hankins

While in residency at Stegner House, Bill Hankins created a photojournal inspired by quotes from Stegner’s prose and the landscapes surrounding Eastend, SK. Bill says “I searched for those photographic images that music have been similar to those that imprinted (Stegner’s) young life and resulted in some of his most beautiful and profound words.”

Lynn Stegner

The following was delivered, by invitation, to a symposium of conservation biologists from around the world who were assembling for one week at UC Berkeley in order to come up with a practical plan to conserve species and the ecosystems that support them.

From a beach on the Northumberland Strait to a seawall on Vancouver Island; a winter storm in a small prairie town or paddling a blue northern lake, Jack Walton’s musical tales are a reflection of the vast and diverse Canadian landscape, both real and imagined. For over five decades Jack Walton has combined his work in culture and the arts with that of being a volunteer advocate for their development and sustainability. He is a writer and performer of music and literature, consultant in Board Development and Governance in the non-profit sector, a festival designer/producer and a documentary filmmaker.

Writer Candace Savage has drawn inspiration from the stories and history of the prairies. This documentary looks at her relationship with the town of Eastend and the Eastend Arts Council who look to expand upon the environmental and creative legacy of Pulitzer Prize winning author Wallace Stegner.

I originally set out to make this film as a homage to Wallace Stegner and the enduring words he wrote in his famous 'Wilderness Letter' to Congress in 1960. His poetic appeal for robust and comprehensive conservation efforts of America’s wild lands gave me pause. In this current political climate his words began to take on new meaning. His plea for what wilderness can do for us is more relevant now than ever. Watch the film and take action.

Something will have gone out of us as a people if we ever let the remaining wilderness be destroyed; if we permit the last virgin forests to be turned into comic books and plastic cigarette cases; if we drive the few remaining members of the wild species into zoos or to extinction; if we pollute the last clear air and dirty the last clean streams and push our paved roads through the last of the silence, so that never again will Americans be free in their own country from the noise, the exhausts, the stinks of human and automotive waste . . .

We caught up with Sharon Butala to see what she has been up to lately and to look back on what she was thinking 30 years ago when she worked with the community of Eastend to establish Wallace Stegner House.

Inspired by The Geography of Hope we've asked younger and older family members about their personal reflections on the meaning of land.

On the first day of each month, a small group of Calgarians gathers in the parking lot of Stanley Park to embark on the Elbow River Bird Survey. The meeting time varies with the season, as this walk usually starts an hour after sunrise.

Depicted is a pair of one of the Canadian Grasslands most iconic birds of prey, the Burrowing Owl. Due to habitat loss and other factors, this species is currently on the decline in Canada.

A child walks away from the kitchen door, through weeds trampled grey to the edge of the garden where the wind and grass waits. Beyond the rhubarb and into the endless sage-pocked green, the sound of his father’s cursing fades and is gone. He enters easily into a solitude held together by meadowlark song. There are gophers and small, bobbing owls that live in their burrows and now and then a badger looking back at him.