Articles in this issue (my first as editor) feel like a love letter to our region. A testament to the vast melting pot of wildlife and passionate people. The latter living close to the land, taking risks in business, elevating culture. All reasons why I moved here.
Walking around town, I’m consistently met with warmth I’d yet to find in the (three) other BC communities where I’ve lived. The community spirit is strong here. There are people who have lived here their whole lives, borne witness to an unimaginable amount of growth, and yet continue to embrace change and a steady stream of new people.
When we think of innovation, we tend to look forward—towards a future of technological advances, growth mindset, and new ideas. But innovation does not always equal expansion. It can also look like a return to what, for many, are considered old ways, but new for that individual or community. This is certainly the case in many of this issue’s stories that explore solutions to today’s complex problems. There is a balancing act between a quiet replication of nature’s cycles and wisdom and new endeavours in green energy, wildlife monitoring, and sustainable food systems. Then there is the innovation of Self—found in our courage to chase our hopes, dreams, and goals. Whether personal or professional, leaps into new ventures and projects are celebrated throughout our region.
As we enter spring, the season of newness, I find myself viewing innovation as a form of hope. A chance to change for the better—to choose; to navigate life with intention; and to live a little brighter, bolder, kinder. A sentiment that has its best outcome through togetherness—a community gathering to achieve things great and small; as is the case with ours.
