THE PEOPLE'S FOREST

A ONCE-IGNORED WOODED ESCARPMENT SURROUNDED BY THE CONCRETE OF A MAJOR CITY HAS BECOME A REFUGE

- Mark Mann

IF THE WEEDS and invasive species of Montreal had a god, it would be the Falaise Saint-Jacques. Nine storeys tall and four kilometres long, the falaise (French for "cliff") hunches over Highway 20 in the city's southwest. Every day, 300,000 people drive past it, but if asked about the Falaise, most would say, "What's that?"

It is a strange sort of vanishing act, to be seen yet ignored by all. Planted in 1985 on an ad hoc dumping site, this rugged stretch of woodland has never received consistent upkeep by the city. Until recently, few people visited it. 

But human indifference has been the forest's good fortune. While no one was looking, it evolved into a jungle-like ecosystem, bursting with tall trees and birdsong. Today it provides a refuge for foxes, groundhogs, an endangered species of brown snake and the occasional deer that wanders in along the nearby train tracks.

It's easy to fall in love with the Falaise, how it feels huge and lush and yet like a secret garden. Since 2015, some of its admirers have been taking care of it themselves: carrying out hundreds of tires and other trash by hand, clearing pathways, documenting wildlife and filling bird feeders. They call themselves Sauvons la Falaise-or "Let's Save the Escarpment" and their motto is "Make the Falaise our own."

In many ways, the members of Sauvons la Falaise have been wildly successful. The city and the province are investing millions to protect the Falaise and increase the amount of surrounding parkland, with the vision of turning the escarpment into a hub for a network of green corridors around the city.

But as these transformations unfold, the forest's admirers are wondering if their wild oasis will retain the sense of freedom and community they have experienced there. Will it still be theirs?