Got flooding problems? Have you considered diverting the river?

All that carbon has been put to noble use. This was, after all, a dead river and a fetid marsh. And river flooding was a major and growing threat to life and livelihoods. 

In the 1890s, the Don River was straightened, straitjacketed and shunted with a hard right turn into the lake via the Keating Channel. The intention was to bypass the wetlands and flush contaminated riverwater into the lake. The marsh was then drained and filled, creating a port and industrial park of munition factories, animal rendering plants and oil storage tanks. 

“That is the contamination we’ve had to deal with as we moved the project forward,” says director of Waterfront Toronto parks and public realm, Shannon Baker during her talk at Festival of Place: Climate Resilience, where I interview her in front of a live audience. 

Biidaasige Park recreates a stylised, scaled-down approximation of the marshland and river mouth that existed before that. The masterplan, led by landscape architect Michael Van Valkenburgh Associates, approximates the natural serpentine route lost more than 100 years ago. 

Partway through the earthworks, something unexpected happened. With more than 7m depth of dirt and gravel carted away, a construction worker on site noticed some unusual plants sprouting. Works were stopped and botanists discovered hundred-year-old sedges and rushes from the original wetlands springing back to life. And not just that. Soil samples revealed that microbes, larvae, worms, water fleas and zooplankton were wriggling again as though not a day had gone by.

The findings shocked scientists, including University of Toronto associate professor Shelby Riskin. She collected and grew the seeds and plants, returning them to the parkland to be planted. Now, the century-old bulrushes, strange, bushy and thriving, grow in the riverine park, while researchers rush to publish papers on the revival of an ancient landscape and its rehydrated microbiology. The discovery is rewriting the rules about what can be saved and revitalised on post-industrial sites and alternative approaches to soil excavation and remediation.

My kids disappear into the playground – the younger one opts for sand and water play, the older two queue up for ziplines and play on the swings, but there’s less to entice tweens and teens. I’d have liked to see more challenging structures to climb, bouldering or pull-up bars. I meet a local teacher and her kids walking by the river. “I love the sandpits with the water features and dams,” she says. “I wish this park existed when my kids were little. There’s so much learning that could take place that they are too old for now!” Still, her teen is excited to come back with his fishing rod. Fishing the urban rivers is a popular pastime for teens, and you will see them cycling to parks with rods in their backpacks, hoping to catch salmon for sport.

Throughout the park, “step-downs” to the new riverbank offer fishing, birdwatching and slips for non-motorised boats. The park is already a destination for paddleboarders and canoeists. Set to open next year, a future Canoe Cove will offer kayak and canoe rentals and a small cluster of artificial islands to paddle around and explore. A future park, Biidaasige North, planned for 2028, will add an ice skating trail for winter, an event space and a new pedestrian bridge to downtown across the Keating Channel.

The playground is big and located at the park entrance, but it’s small compared with the total size of the riverine parkland, acting as the gateway to nature exploration. Still under construction, a community centre will offer community programmes run by the city, located in a revamped fire station.

The lush plantings of native species are fluffy but not wild. Baker reveals that Waterfront Toronto has spent C$1 million this year on weeding alone to maintain the new landscape and keep out invasive species. But the wildlife moved in without introduction or fanfare, thanks to the creation of diverse habitats, including large dead trees – known as drowned trees – planted upright to provide nesting sites. Turtles, salamanders, beavers, coyotes, foxes, muskrats, minks, frogs and native fish arrived without invitation. “Just this summer I saw a bald eagle fly the length of the river valley, which was amazing to see,” says Baker.

All of the local people I speak to are surprised and delighted by the gift of a new park. They are wowed by the level of care in the realisation of the landscape and the generosity of the spaces. 

“I’m mostly just thrilled at how much land was reclaimed for family use – playground, picnics, housing – that was previously wasteland,” says one mother, an immigration lawyer, who cycled to the park with her youngest. “What a win for the city.” She also mentions that it was easy to arrive by bike. “It’s very seamless, compared with other green spaces, which are harder, like the other ravines.”

I speak to another mum who is accompanying her daughter’s Girl Guide troop on a free tour of the park by a City of Toronto employee. (Tours are currently offered free to any group, proving popular with schools and scouts alike.) “I spent years attending seminars and workshops on urban landscaping, forestry, nature, environmental stewardship and accessible play,” she says, as an estate agent who trained as a landscape professional. “I never saw an actual project come together that combined each of these elements together until now. People of all ages can enjoy this park, and I hope schools can adopt and implement these designs too.” 

There are questions about what happens next. The masterplan shows dense clusters of tall residential towers bordering the park on vacant land to the north and south. People are unsure how that will feel and whether it will “ruin the park”. But most agree that Toronto needs affordable homes. They are excited to explore “the new park” with their kids – still learning how to say (or resisting learning) its name. The word Biidaasige (bee-daw-sih-geh) translates from the Anishinaabemowin language as “sunlight shining towards us”, and was a gift from an Indigenous-led naming process.

Renaming has been used as a way to erase thousands of years of Indigenous presence in Toronto and across Canada. It was Upper Canada lieutenant-governor John Simcoe who renamed the Don River after its counterpart in England in 1793, replacing a name thought to be Waasayishkodenayosh. Indigenous words are now being given priority in the naming and renaming of Toronto streets, parks and assets to support the revitalisation of Indigenous languages and increase public awareness, according to Toronto’s Reconciliation Action Plan: 2022-2032. Not everyone that I meet is keen on the name– “But it has got us talking about it, and trying to say it,” says one dad. “And that’s a good thing.”

The Indian Act of 1876 made it illegal to speak an Indigenous language, take part in ceremonies or dances, or gather in groups of more than three – restrictions that weren’t lifted until the 1950s. In addition, the government had the power to remove Indigenous children from their families. Residential schools, where many children were abused or died, operated for 150 years from 1831-1996 with the purpose of destroying Indigenous families, cultures and languages. 

Decolonisation in the making of places is new to the city. Settler colonialism is the term for a process of disenfranchisement where waves of immigrants are invited to settle on Indigenous lands. The truth of Canada’s history and legacy has only recently begun being taught in Toronto schools, which used to promote the settler perspective. The publication of the Truth and Reconciliation Report in 2015 was a major catalyst for change. The discovery in 2021 of unmarked graves on the sites of former residential schools led to action plans aligned with the report recommendations. 

Indigenous symbolism is incorporated throughout Biidaasige Park, curated through an Indigenous Advisory Circle convened by the City of Toronto. Toronto is the traditional territory of the Wendat, Anishinaabe and Haudenosaunee, and the region has been an important place for Indigenous people for thousands of years. The park is located on the traditional territories and treaty lands of the Mississauga of the Credit. “They have been involved in all aspects of the project,” says Baker. “We work in deep conversation with them as well as other Indigenous communities.”

The process has led to the inclusion of Indigenous plantings such as Sacred Tobacco and White Sagebrush, a ceremonial shade structure designed by Tawaw Architecture Collective, a fire-holder space, five marker trees and Indigenous public art. 

“The opening of Biidaasige Park and the new Don River is a profound moment of renewal,” says ogiima kwe chief Claire Sault from the Mississaugas of the Credit First Nation. “Not just for the land and water, but for the relationships that continue to grow here. We are proud to see Indigenous voices, teachings and design woven into this landscape. This project honours the spirit of Biidaasige, ‘the one who brings the light’, and reflects a shared commitment to restoring natural spaces while recognising the deep, living connection Mississaugas of the Credit First Nation has to this territory.” 

Toronto City Council chair of the Infrastructure and Environment Committee Paula Fletcher says, “The new waterfront park represents a big step on the long road to reconciliation.”

The incorporation of Indigenous symbolism feels respectful and meaningful, and speaks to the city’s commitment in its action plan to advance Indigenous placekeeping, to build what it describes as “cultural competency and capacity for addressing historical and contemporary injustices against Indigenous communities and work towards repairing the relationship between settler and Indigenous societies.” 

Given Indigenous people are more likely to be unhoused in the city, what comes next is just as important: Homes. Waterfront Toronto is aiming for at least 20 per cent of floorspace to be made available for affordable rent. In spite of market turmoil, the project is cracking on. 

“We received another billion dollars of investment from the three levels of government in January of this year that has allowed us to move to the next phase,” says Baker. “We’re quite excited about that.” 

Timeline of the Park
The last glacial retreat carved a deep ravine and river. The run-off empties into the lake through a large wetland, later called Ashbridges Bay Marsh by settlers. Archaeological evidence indicates the ancestors of Indigenous people likely came to the area around 12,000 years ago, after the retreat of the glaciers

1793

Upper Canada lieutenant-governor John Simcoe named the Don River after a river in England. The town of York was established

1834

The city is incorporated and the original Indigenous name of the place, Toronto, is restored, because it was common on maps and to escape the negative reputation of “Dirty Little York”

1890s

The Don Improvement Project dredges and straightens the river to flush industrial pollutants into the harbour and make space for railway construction, resulting in periodic flooding

1893

City engineer Edward Keating proposes a channel to connect Ashbridges Bay to Toronto Harbour, in another attempt to flush pollution from industrial sources including the brickworks, abattoirs and sawmills.

1912

The Keating Channel is finished and the Don River is forced into a 90-degree turn westward to the Inner Harbour after its natural mouth is filled in. Governments fill in the heavily polluted Ashbridges Bay Marsh to create the port lands, a large industrial district with refineries, coal facilities, factories and shipping infrastructure

1954

Hurricane Hazel stops over Toronto, flooding the city. The Province of Ontario passes the Conservation Authorities Act, establishes the Toronto and Region Conservation Authority and other conservation authorities, and restricts residential development within flood-prone areas

1969

Activists hold a funeral for the Don River to highlight the decay of the river and valley as a result of industrial waste

1989 to 1991

Civic leaders meet to advocate for the restoration of the Don River. The Task Force to Bring Back the Don is formed and releases a 1991 report that envisions a new river mouth in the port lands 

2001

Motivated by a bid for the 2008 Summer Olympics, the federal and provincial governments, with the City of Toronto, form the Toronto Waterfront Revitalization Corporation to develop and rehabilitate the city’s waterfront, including the Port Lands Flood Protection (PLFP) project

2007

New York-based landscape architect Michael Van Valkenburgh Associates wins an international competition to design the new port lands

2017

Construction starts on the new river mouth. Plugs prevent river and lake water from entering the construction zone

2024

The city establishes a formal Day One working group to plan for the opening of Biidaasige Park, including the handover from Waterfront Toronto, the park’s designer and builder, to the City of Toronto for ongoing management. The new island created by the new river mouth and the park are gifted the Indigenous names, Ookwemin Minising “place of the black cherry trees” and Biidaasige Park, “sunlight shining towards us”. The “north plug” is removed, allowing the waters of the Don River to flow through the new river mouth, recreating the natural route lost more than 100 years ago

2025

Biidaasige Park opens to the public with future phases including Canoe Cove, expected to open in 2026 and Biidaasige Park North, which adds an ice skating trail and event space, in 2028. A new pedestrian bridge across the Keating Channel will further link the park to downtown, bridging to Waterfront Toronto’s Quayside site