Preserving nature and memories
Preserving nature and memories
a journey through the life of land donor Nancy Baird
WRITTEN BY SHANNON MUNRO, COMMUNICATIONS INTERN
Often times when I drive through small towns in New Brunswick, I admire the expansive fields, rustic homes and the sense of peace that isn’t typically found in a university city like Fredericton, where I grew up. This was going through my mind as I drove to Taymouth to speak with Nancy Baird, a Nature Trust of New Brunswick land donor.
I expected a nice conversation with her 15-hectare (37-acre) forested floodplain property serving as a scenic backdrop. I didn’t expect to leave Nancy and the nascent nature preserve she’d made possible with an overwhelming sense of connectedness—these fields and homes I enjoy from a distance hold an array of memories and history, not just for those who live there, but for the nature and wildlife that has been around for a long, long time.
At a glance, Nancy’s land looks like a charming rural plot with a rustic red barn and a good view of the Nashwaak River and adjoining beaver pond. But one wouldn’t know that Nancy shingled that barn herself in the ‘80s, that her kids played hockey on that pond every winter, or that beavers have been building dams there since long before she and her family moved in 50 years ago.
Nancy Baird stands among the vibrant ostrich ferns that flourish on her former homestead—now a protected nature preserve along the Nashwaak River. Each spring, these ferns return like clockwork, just as they have for generations. Photo: Véronique McGrath
Wanting to protect this beauty and these memories is what motivated Nancy to reach out to the Nature Trust three years ago to talk about donating her property. At first, she thought she would leave the land to the Nature Trust in the form of a planned gift, ensuring the property would be protected forever—left just the way she remembered it—through a bequest in her will.
After working with the Trust, she thought, ‘why wait?’ and decided to gift the land so she could see it become a preserve herself.
She and her late husband John never discussed the future of the land together, and her four children all planted roots away from home, so she was searching for another option.
“When we were young, we didn't think about what would happen after we're not here. And I just love this land so much,” Nancy says, glancing out of her kitchen window which perfectly frames a view of the Nashwaak River.
“When I saw some of the things that were going on along the shore, driving to town and back, all the trailers being put in, I thought, ‘I really would be sad if that happened on my shore—I wouldn’t want that to happen. I would just like to have this the way it is.’
“It’s nothing that my husband and I ever talked about doing, but I do think he would be in approval of following this path.”
I wanted to walk to the river
Nancy and John moved to the property in 1975. Nancy recalled the day they came to view the house — it was a hot day in August, and they only had one day to decide if they wanted to buy it because of other offers.
John had “great misgivings” about the place since he was a meticulous planner, but Nancy knew the land was special.
“Poor realtor wasn't too keen, but I wanted to walk to the river,” she says, noting there was no path, so they had to wade through the waist-high grass. “It was just beautiful.”
A lush fringe of native wetland grasses and ostrich ferns stretches along the Nashwaak River at one of the Nature Trust’s newest nature preserves. These floodplain plants thrive in the seasonally saturated soil, supporting biodiversity and helping protect the riverbank from erosion. Photo: Aiden Pluta
What sold Nancy on the house itself, which she believes to be one of the oldest still standing on the river, was walking into the living room.
“Just the way the light was coming through the window onto the floor, just a certain slant of light, it was so nice,” she says. “You know, you have a feeling about a place.”
And she has no regrets for trusting that feeling — not when the river flooded the basement each spring, or even when the beavers asserted their natural neighbourly rights.
She fondly recalled planting five apple trees soon after moving in. All throughout the spring and summer, she watched as one “lovely little apple” matured—the first from any of the trees to grow. But the beavers had different plans.
“I went out one morning and I saw the apple was gone,” she says. “A beaver had taken the tree down.
“So we gave up on trying to grow apples.”
While apples weren't in the cards, they did grow so much more. She and John had a garden, which Nancy describes as “much too large.” They would plant everything from potatoes, tomatoes, flowers, and strawberries — the latter of which didn’t do very well, so they only tried them once.
Even with six people in her family, they planted so much that she would bring bags of cucumbers to the local post office to leave for anyone who wanted them.
“I just love to see things popping out of the soil. You put in a lot of work and you don't want to waste produce,” she said. “We grew everything out there, it's wonderful soil.”
What makes this land especially important for conservation is what lies just beyond the garden beds and big barn that once housed the Baird’s horses.
Mature hardwood forest runs along the 800 metres of shoreline—now protected as part of the Nature Trust’s 2024-25 land conservation campaign, our largest ever, which saw 15 new nature preserves and six extensions added to our network of 97 conserved properties safeguarding critical habitat for generations to come. Photo: Aiden Pluta
The entire property is provincially regulated wetland, with a mature upper hardwood floodplain forest running the length of the shoreline—nearly 800 metres—where towering silver maples and white ash give way to an understory thick with ostrich and sensitive ferns, and where the fertile soil nourishes endangered butternut saplings. These floodplain forests are not only beautiful, they’re increasingly rare—and they play an important role in absorbing floodwaters, filtering runoff, and storing carbon.
The lush land near the river boasts an expansive patch of fiddleheads, which Nancy and her family foraged each spring. “You look for the skunk cabbage,” she says. “When you see the skunk cabbage coming, you now that fiddleheads will be not far behind.”
Inland from the river, the property shifts into old agricultural fields, now beginning to return to nature. Scattered hawthorn and white pine mix with speckled alder, while fallen limbs and standing snags provide habitat for birds and small mammals.
The cobblestone riverbank, classified as Laurentian river beach, is dotted with patches of herbs, low shrubs, and grasses that thrive between the stones and sand. Wood ducks forage beneath the oaks that line the upper ridge, while great blue herons nest in the beaver pond and Canada geese are frequent visitors.
So frequently, in fact, that Nancy knows their schedule. On a recent Nature Trust visit to the property, just like clockwork, in they flew.
“Oh, here they come,” she says as the trademark honks filled the air. “Those two go back and forth a few times a day. Yes, you stay down there!”
One sound she’ll never tire of hearing is the spring peepers.
“They are just so loud, it’s wonderful. You can lie in bed at night and they’re just chirping at you. It’s lovely.”
What we can protect, we should
Nature drives community and encourages connection, and Nancy’s land, a yet unnamed nature preserve, exemplifies this. Not just through sharing food and resources, but also by bringing people together.
The river, Nancy says, would bring all the neighbourhood kids to the property, especially to swim and tube in the summer.
“There was a tree that with a limb that went way out across [the river] ... there would be a lineup, and if anybody was slow going or a little timid to jump there'd be a lot behind them, cheering or cursing them on,” she recalls.
In the winter, they would skate and play pond hockey. Though Nancy gave her skates away after getting banged up a few times—swimming was her forte.
Nancy Baird sits beneath the trees overlooking the Nashwaak River on the land she’s called home for nearly 50 years—now protected forever as a nature preserve. Photo: Suzanne Shah
Being close to the river is one of her favourite parts about the land. Growing up near the Atlantic Ocean in Massachusetts, Nancy has a deep love for the water.
These days, she lives alone on a small parcel of the property with her cat Molly. While her children have moved away, and her husband has passed, these memories live on in the beautiful nature surrounding her.
“Several people thought after John passed that I would probably go back [to Massachusetts],” she said. “There's no way I would go ... This is my home ... I feel very fortunate to be here.”
"I think of all the wonderful relationships that we've made with people out here, and they're so good, and people are so kind to me, and it's been great. It was always good for the children,” she said.
She’s grateful, too, that in becoming a nature preserve, the land her children grew up on will always be there for them when they want to visit and wade through the ferns once again.
Nancy’s advice to those who are interested in donating their land is to just go out and ask.
“I had no idea where to start so I just asked someone,” she said, adding that a friend referred her to the Nature Trust. “I would direct anyone to deal with [the Nature Trust]. The people have been very, very helpful. It’s been a very good group to work with.”
At the end of the day, Nancy says she feels “so lucky” that the land will be preserved just the way she and her family knew it.
“What we can protect, we should,” she says. “I'm happy. It's a very comfortable feeling. It's in good hands.”
Leave a legacy that lasts
Like Nancy, you can protect the land you love for generations to come. To learn more about planned giving, contact the Nature Trust of New Brunswick at (506) 457-2398 or info@ntnb.org.
Interested in donating or selling your land for conservation? Click here to explore how it works.
Curious how others have done it? Read the story of the Speer Hillside Nature Preserve.
You can also help us protect even more ecologically important places—and care for the preserves already entrusted to us—by donating today or becoming a monthly supporter. Every gift makes a lasting difference for nature.