Open letter published in La Presse

There is, at the heart of Montréal, a place where the city slows down. A place where noise becomes breath, where concrete gives way to roots, where, in only a few minutes, one can leave behind the restlessness of the streets and return to the silence of the woods, to the vast horizon opening above the city.

We all know this place.

We have climbed it as children, as lovers, as parents, as friends. We have climbed it alone, as athletes, as visitors passing through, or as Montrealers whose lives have long been woven into the city. We have walked there to celebrate, to think, to gather courage, to breathe. We have brought there people we love. We have seen Montréal differently from its heights. And perhaps, without always being able to put it into words, we have understood there that this city has a soul.

This place is Mount Royal Park.

In 2026, the park celebrates its 150th anniversary. One hundred and fifty years of presence, of landscapes, of encounters, of seasons and memory. One hundred and fifty years of watching over Montréal, not as a fixed backdrop, but as a living presence: fragile, essential, irreplaceable.

Sometimes, we must stop in order to grasp what is obvious. In how many great cities in the world can one pass, in only a few minutes, from downtown to a forest? In how many metropolises can one leave behind the noise of construction sites, cars and screens, and enter a space where time regains its rightful measure?

This privilege is immense. And because it is immense, it calls us to responsibility.

Mount Royal Park did not come into being by chance. It is the fruit of a vision: that of Frederick Law Olmsted, who understood, a century and a half ago, that cities would need places to breathe. His vision was profoundly human and democratic: to make beauty, calm, nature and a form of inner peace accessible to each and every person.

One hundred and fifty years later, that intuition remains strikingly true. In an age that is hurried, dense, anxious and loud, the park continues to offer a place where the city may recover its breath, and where every citizen may recover their own.

But Mount Royal Park is not only a work of landscape. It is our common point of reference.

It reminds us that, beyond our differences, our languages, our neighbourhoods, our histories and the paths that brought us here, we share something precious. It belongs to Montréal’s collective memory, but also to our most intimate stories.

There are those who met there for a first walk. Those who ran there until they found their breath again. Those who cried there in silence, facing the city. Those who learned there to skate, to recognize a bird, to notice the return of spring. There are children who discover the forest there, older people who find memories there, newcomers who come to understand the beauty of the city that has welcomed them.

Mount Royal Park is a public good. But it is also an emotional one. It is not something we possess. It is something we receive. Something we share. Something we pass on.

For 150 years, it has existed because Montréal wanted it, chose it and often defended it. It exists because the City knew how to preserve this great common space at the heart of a metropolis in motion. It also exists because women and men have cared for it with patience, skill and love.

For 40 years, Les Amis de la montagne have had the privilege of belonging to this human chain. Born from a deep attachment to the mountain and from a civic will to protect it, Les Amis have accompanied this place through education, conservation, mobilization, welcoming, knowledge and dialogue.

Protecting Mount Royal Park is a shared responsibility.

Behind the beauty of the landscape lies a delicate balance. The park is strong, but it is not invulnerable. Its woods, its natural environments, its wildlife, its flora, its trails, its views and its heritage are under daily pressure from our collective love. Millions of us visit it, photograph it, celebrate it. This love is magnificent. But if it is not accompanied by care, it can become a threat.

The threats also come from what rises around the park. As Montréal grows denser, we must protect not only its natural environments, but also the very presence of the mountain in the landscape: its silhouette, its views, its role as a common landmark.

That is why this anniversary must be more than a celebration. It must be a moment of awareness.

We have received a rare gift: a great mountain park in the heart of the city. A forest in our everyday lives. An accessible refuge. A place of democratic beauty. This gift cannot be taken for granted. It was imagined by Olmsted, dreamed by Montréal, protected by generations, maintained by the City, defended by citizens, accompanied by Les Amis and loved by millions of people.

Today, it is our turn.

To every citizen, the park asks a simple question: what trace do we want to leave?

This is not about visiting the park less. On the contrary. We must come to it, return to it, bring our children, our friends, our parents, our colleagues, our visitors. We must walk there, learn there, contemplate there, breathe there. But we must do so with respect, with gentleness, with the awareness that every step in a natural and heritage park carries meaning.

Mount Royal Park does not need us to love it only in words. It needs us to love it through our actions.

And the next time we climb toward the Camillien-Houde or Kondiaronk lookout, cross a trail, hear the wind in the leaves or see the city spread out at our feet, let us take a moment.

Let us look around.

What we have been entrusted with is immense.

And what we choose to do with it will say much about who we are.