One Foot Square and One Live Tree

Spent the last few days in Canada and New York, bouncing back and forth across the border on business.

I spent almost the entire time within a mile or two of the border, along the St. Lawrence Seaway, in the 1000 Island region.

I had the pleasure of spending a little time here in the past, on a vacation, and remember being dazzled by the beauty of the area. It ranks very high on my “If I didn’t have to work for a living I’d live here” list.

This go ‘round, my Canadian counterpart was nice enough to give me a bit of background information on the region.

For a piece of land to qualify as an island, in the 1000 Island region, the following criteria must be met.

1. It must be above water, 365 days a year. 366 days a year during leap years.
(This is specified, should the piece of land think it’s going to be able to submerge itself for one day during a leap year, due to some governmental loophole. Nope.)

2. It must be at least one foot square
3. It must have one live tree

Something about these very simple, likely very old guidelines, really tickled me.

One square foot and one tree…. Awesome.

And as we drove back and forth along the Promenade Heritage Parkway (look at a map, people!), I had to laugh as I saw many tiny lumps of land sticking out of the river, with one very small tree on each. No wonder they claim nearly 1800 islands in total.
Got a pontoon boat, a shovel, and a greenhouse nearby? Let’s go make 12 more islands today…

I want that job. I want to be the government employee who’s responsible for motoring up and down the river, counting islands. A tape measure and a boat is all I’d need. Stop, measure, make sure the tree’s still alive… Check, check and… off we go.

“How was work today, sweetie?”
“I…love...my…job…so…much…..” he answers, holding up the bag of fresh walleye, caught while trolling between the islands he had to measure that day.

You can’t be too careful, because trees do die, and ground erodes. All the sudden, your private island residence… isn’t.

“Tree’s looking a bit sickly, and the guy who counts islands is due to drop by tomorrow. Shit! We’ve some planting to do RIGHT NOW.” And off you go in your boat, in rain and 40 degree weather, to the mainland, where you get in your car and drive to whatever greenhouse may be open on a sunday, to buy whatever tree's available...

A house and a boat house and a tree and the nearest neighbor’s 500 yards of river away from you. AND A great view no matter what window you look out.
Sounds like heaven.

As long as you keep that tree alive.