Spring migratory season is now in full swing, with nesting cormorants and patient photographers flocking to the Leslie Street Spit for what has recently become an annual tradition. I say recently of course, because only a generation ago, the stretch of man-made land extending in a southwest direction from the foot of Leslie Street didn’t even exist. The land that is now the home to a diverse collection of local and migratory wildlife was built and planned as an outer harbour to accommodate an expected boom of lake traffic brought on by the then-under-reconstruction St. Lawrence Seaway. Construction of the “Outer Harbour East Headland”, as it was then known, began in the late 1950s, while work was still ongoing on the Seaway. By the time the Seaway opened for freight traffic however, the Jet Age had dawned and the shipping industry had begun shifting towards containerization. The massive boom of lake freight traffic didn’t pan out as expected, and the demand for an outer harbour with additional port facilities started to fade away.

By the 1960s, Toronto was undergoing its first major high-rise building boom and the white elephant breakwater that extended around the east side of the harbour became a convenient dumping ground for a seemingly endless volume of dirt and rubble, as well as the constant supply of sludge dredged from the diverted mouth of the Don River. The 1960s were a different time to say the least, and ecology certainly didn’t contribute to the decision to continue infilling the harbour, but as the spit grew, so did its ecological value. Nobody could have predicted that what was quite literally a dump, would transform itself into one of Ontario’s most valuable—if not the most valuable—ecological asset.

Toronto skyline seen from Tommy Thompson Park, image by Jack Landau

But it happened; fueled by a combination of human counter-intuitiveness and nature’s unprecedented power of reclamation, the still-growing Leslie Street Spit is now home to Toronto’s most diverse natural(ish) habitat, all atop the rubble and sludge unwittingly put there by man. By the 1970s, North America was in the throes of deindustrialization, and it had become clear that the need for increased shipping capacity on Toronto Harbour would never materialize. In 1973, the first plans were put forward for what would eventually become Tommy Thompson Park.

Tommy Thompson Park, image by Jack Landau

Forty years later, Tommy Thompson Park has become a world-renowned bird watching hotspot, as well as a shining testament to nature’s perseverance. With an increasing number of tourists, photographers, bird watchers, and environmentalists from around the globe making the trek out to the globally recognized “Important Bird Area”, Waterfront Toronto recently undertook a project to add some necessary infrastructure to the man-made peninsula.

For many years, visitors to the Leslie Street Spit have been forced to keep a close eye on the weather, as the remote location combined with the exposure to the lake can create a potentially dangerous situation during adverse weather scenarios. Factor in the lack of bathrooms, shelters and other basic human necessities, and a surprise rainstorm could turn a day on The Spit into a miserable experience in seconds. Anyone who has ever experienced a sudden-onset rainstorm on the car-free Spit, will be happy to know that the new Elemental Shelter is now officially open for business hiding, just in time for both bird migratory season, and (seemingly this year) relentless spring rain.

Elemental Shelter at Tommy Thompson Park, image by Jack Landau

The new Montgomery Sisam-designed shelter is both beautiful and minimal. Essentially a concrete-bunker built into the side of a man-made hill, the shelter offers visitors to the Spit a place to escape the weather, as well as much-needed restrooms (the next nearest public restroom is kilometers away).

Elemental Shelter at Tommy Thompson Park, image by Jack Landau

The top of the hill which houses the shelter has been fitted with skylights, allowing natural light to penetrate into the structure from above, as well as from the open air entrance below. The pre-weathered Corten steel cladding is a fitting play on the existing theme of nature reclaiming what man has left behind.

Elemental Shelter at Tommy Thompson Park, image by Jack Landau

In addition to the newly opened shelter, two additional Montgomery Sisam-designed shelters have also been built on the Spit, adding a network of temporary rest stations to allow non-invasive human interaction with what might possibly be the single most productive accident in Toronto’s modern history.

Rendering of existing pavilion elsewhere on The Leslie Street Spit, image courtesy of Montgomery Sisam Architects

Rendering of existing pavilion elsewhere on The Leslie Street Spit, image courtesy of Montgomery Sisam Architects

The opening of the new shelter, however, didn’t necessarily go down without a hitch. Spring migratory season, unbeknownst to this reporter at the time of this event, is also “air completely opaque with flying insects” season—pardon my to-the-point wording. Though the presence of these vermin—in my hair, my lungs, and my camera—was unpleasant to say the least, their abundant numbers combined with their position towards the bottom of the food chain is responsible for the diverse wildlife that makes the place so magical. And now let us cut to the obligatory shot of the ribbon-cutting party doing their best to smile amidst a swarm of insects. Included in the shot are Mark Wilson of Waterfront Toronto in the brown jacket, Local City Councillor Paula Fletcher in yellow, and the Hon. Glen Murrary, Toronto-Rosedale MPP and Minister of Infrastructure and Transportation, behind her, John Carmichael, MP for Don Valley West behind him, and Brian Denney, CAO of the Toronto Region Conservation Authority to the right.

Dignitaries in a cloud of insects, image by Jack Landau

Your desk job seems better now, doesn’t it?