For millennia, Indigenous Peoples across Canada have relied on intimate knowledge of seasonal cycles to guide their hunting, fishing, and gathering practices. This deep connection to the land has sustained communities, shaped cultures, and ensured the sustainable use of resources. However, as climate change alters weather patterns, migration routes, and ecosystem dynamics, many Indigenous communities are facing unprecedented challenges to their traditional ways of life.
The Changing Face of Seasons
Climate change is not just about rising temperatures; it’s about the disruption of long-established patterns that Indigenous Peoples have relied upon for generations.
Unpredictable Weather Patterns
Across the country, Indigenous communities are reporting increasingly erratic weather. Winters are becoming shorter and less predictable, springs are arriving earlier, and extreme weather events are more frequent.
Elder John Keesis from the Moose Cree First Nation in northern Ontario shares, “When I was young, we could predict the seasons. Now, the weather is all mixed up. It affects everything – when the geese come, when the ice forms, when plants are ready to harvest.”
Shifting Migration Patterns
As temperatures change, so do the movements of animals that many Indigenous communities depend on for sustenance and cultural practices.

(Image Credit: Warren Sammut, Unsplash)
In Nunavut, Inuit hunters have noticed changes in caribou migration patterns. Jayko Alooloo, an experienced hunter from Pond Inlet, explains, “The caribou used to come at certain times, following the same routes. Now, their movements are less predictable. We have to travel farther and search longer to find them.”
Impacts on Traditional Practices
These environmental changes are having profound effects on traditional hunting, fishing, and gathering practices across Canada.
Hunting Challenges
In many regions, changing snow and ice conditions are making traditional hunting grounds less accessible and more dangerous.
James Walkus, a Kwakwaka’wakw hunter from Vancouver Island, describes the challenges: “The snow doesn’t come as early or stay as long. This affects when and where we can hunt. The animals are changing their patterns too. It’s becoming harder to teach our youth the old ways.”
Fishing Disruptions

(Image Credit: Fredrik Öhlander, Unsplash)
Warming waters and changing ice patterns are impacting fish populations and traditional fishing practices.
In the Yukon, Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in citizens have noticed changes in salmon runs. Elder Angie Joseph-Rear shares, “The salmon are coming at different times, and there are fewer of them. Our traditional fishing spots aren’t as reliable anymore. It’s affecting not just our food supply, but our whole way of life.”
Gathering Uncertainties

(Image Credit: Dmitry Bukhantsov, Unsplash)
Climate change is also affecting the availability and timing of traditional plant harvests.
Brenda Olsson, a Métis Elder from Alberta, notes changes in berry-picking seasons: “The berries are ripening at different times now. Sometimes they come early and are gone before we expect, other times they come late. It’s changing how and when we can harvest them.”
Adaptation Strategies
Despite these challenges, Indigenous communities are demonstrating remarkable resilience and adaptability in the face of climate change.
Flexible Hunting and Fishing Practices
Many communities are adjusting their hunting and fishing schedules to accommodate changing animal patterns.
In Nunavik, northern Quebec, Inuit hunters are using GPS and satellite imagery to track changing ice conditions and animal movements. Adamie Delisle Alaku, Executive Vice-President of Makivik Corporation, explains, “We’re combining our traditional knowledge with new technologies. It helps us adapt to the changing conditions while still practicing our traditional ways.”
Diversifying Food Sources
Some communities are exploring new food sources and reviving forgotten practices to ensure food security.
The Heiltsuk Nation in British Columbia has been working to revitalize traditional clam gardens, an ancient form of mariculture that can help buffer against changing ocean conditions. Hilistis Pauline Waterfall, a Heiltsuk knowledge keeper, shares, “By bringing back these old practices, we’re not just preserving our culture, we’re also creating more resilient food systems.”
Community Food-Sharing Programs
Many Indigenous communities are strengthening or establishing community food-sharing programs to help mitigate the impacts of unpredictable harvests.
In Kuujjuaq, Nunavik, the community freezer program allows successful hunters to share their harvest with Elders and families in need. This practice helps ensure that traditional foods remain accessible even as hunting conditions become more challenging.
Preserving and Adapting Traditional Knowledge
As the environment changes, there’s an urgent need to preserve Traditional Ecological Knowledge (TEK) while also adapting it to new realities.
Intergenerational Knowledge Transfer
Many communities are focusing on programs that bring Elders and youth together to share traditional knowledge and practices.
The Dene Tha’ First Nation in Alberta has established on-the-land programs where Elders teach youth traditional skills while also discussing how to adapt these practices to changing conditions. Chief James Ahnassay emphasizes, “It’s about keeping our knowledge alive, but also teaching our youth how to be adaptable, just as our ancestors were.”
Documenting Traditional Knowledge
Efforts are underway in many communities to document traditional knowledge about seasonal patterns, animal behaviors, and gathering practices.
The Inuit Tapiriit Kanatami has been working on a project to document Inuit knowledge of sea ice across the Canadian Arctic. This information not only preserves crucial cultural knowledge but also provides valuable data for climate scientists studying Arctic change.
Policy Implications
The impacts of climate change on traditional practices highlight the need for policies that support Indigenous adaptive capacity and sovereignty.
Flexible Wildlife Management
There are growing calls for wildlife management policies that are more responsive to changing environmental conditions and Indigenous needs.
In the Northwest Territories, the Inuvialuit have negotiated flexible quota systems for some hunts, allowing for adjustments based on environmental conditions and community needs. This approach recognizes the dynamic nature of both the environment and traditional practices.
Support for Land-Based Activities
Some jurisdictions are developing programs to support Indigenous land-based activities in the face of climate change.
The Government of Nunavut’s Harvester Support Program provides funding for equipment and supplies needed for traditional harvesting activities. This type of support is crucial as changing conditions often require new or modified equipment.
The Broader Implications
The challenges facing Indigenous hunters and gatherers offer important lessons for broader society about the impacts of climate change and the need for adaptive, sustainable practices.
Dr. Gleb Raygorodetsky, an ethnoecologist working with Indigenous communities, notes, “Indigenous peoples’ experiences with changing seasons and wildlife patterns are like an early warning system for the rest of the world. Their adaptive strategies offer valuable insights into building resilience to climate change.”
Resilience in the Face of Change

(Image Credit: Francesco Ungaro, Unsplash)
The story of how climate change is impacting traditional hunting and gathering practices is one of both challenge and resilience. As seasons shift and long-established patterns change, Indigenous communities across Canada are drawing on their deep connection to the land and their capacity for adaptation to navigate these new realities.
These experiences underscore the urgent need for climate action, not just to preserve traditional ways of life, but to maintain the delicate balance of ecosystems upon which we all depend. They also highlight the importance of Indigenous leadership in developing climate adaptation strategies.
As we move forward, supporting Indigenous rights, traditional practices, and adaptive capacities will be crucial not only for the well-being of Indigenous communities but for developing more sustainable relationships with the natural world in the face of a changing climate.
In the words of Sheila Watt-Cloutier, Inuit activist and author, “What is happening in the Arctic is nothing less than a reflection of the health of the planet as a whole. By supporting Indigenous peoples in maintaining their traditional practices, we’re not just preserving cultures – we’re preserving knowledge that could be key to our collective survival.”
The resilience and adaptability demonstrated by Indigenous hunters and gatherers in the face of dramatic seasonal shifts offer both inspiration and practical lessons for us all as we navigate the uncertainties of a changing climate.
Blog by Rye Karonhiowanen Barberstock
(Header Image Credit: LaDawn Preuninger, Unsplash)
The post Seasonal Shifts: How Climate Change is Impacting Traditional Hunting and Gathering Practices appeared first on Indigenous Climate Hub.
Seasonal Shifts: How Climate Change is Impacting Traditional Hunting and Gathering Practices
Climate Change
Pacific leaders rail at climate finance failures after pre-COP trip to Tuvalu
After witnessing the effects of sea-level rise in the low-lying island nation of Tuvalu, Pacific leaders on Tuesday used the pre-COP31 summit in Fiji to voice their frustration at the difficulties they have experienced in tapping the global climate finance system.
A small group of government leaders, climate negotiators and heads of development banks and climate funds took a trip to Tuvalu’s Funafuti atoll on Tuesday morning, travelling by road over land just 10-20 metres wide to visit a project that is building barriers to keep the sea from the land.
They then flew to Fiji for the pre-COP summit, where several Pacific leaders said they had been let down by the insufficient quantity, bad terms and slow speed of international finance to help them adapt to a warming climate that is bringing higher oceans, drought and more powerful storms to their shores.
“Right now, our islands are like a canoe that has been rammed by a massive foreign ship. Our canoe is taking on water, we are sinking, and what is the world’s response?” asked Palau’s President Surangel Whipps Jr.
“They hand us a tiny patch to cover a gaping hole,” he continued, “but the bureaucratic process just to receive that patch is so slow that the water fills the hole while we wait. Then to rebuild the vessel so that we can survive the next storm, we are offered loans, debt that adds weight to a sinking boat packaged in red tape so thick we can barely access it. And while we wait, the water continues to fill.”

Pacific leaders and Australia called again on governments to invest in the new Pacific Resilience Facility (PRF), which has been designed by the Pacific Islands Forum and is seeking $500 million in investments by COP31 in November.
It has around $180 million so far, but did not receive additional pledges during the UN General Assembly in New York. The PRF aims to invest to generate annual returns which it can give to projects like water tanks for drought-hit communities.
Witnessing sea level rise
The annual pre-COP gathering is usually a low-profile technical meeting of climate negotiators. But this year, Australia – which is the president of negotiations at COP31 – partnered with the Pacific to introduce a “leaders segment” in an attempt to shine a spotlight on climate issues affecting the region.
Fourteen government leaders – from Australia, Timor-Leste, Mauritius and the Pacific – made the trip. They were joined by the European Union’s climate commissioner Wopke Hoekstra, the heads of the Green Climate Fund and the Asian Development Bank and former Australian prime minister Julia Gillard.

On their return to Fiji, Solomon Islands Prime Minister Matthew Wale told the pre-COP leaders roundtable that the sea level rise they had witnessed was personal for him.
“Tuvalu was not just a site visit for me. I saw the story of my own saltwater people,” he said, adding that he, his daughter and his grandfather had lost their houses to sea level rise and that three-quarters of his electorate live on land that will be underwater in the next 30 years.
From the other side of the world, Antigua and Barbuda’s environment minister Michael Joseph said Tuvalu’s problems felt similar to those of his own Caribbean islands. “I saw vulnerable communities… just metres from the sea and people determined to remain on their land, preserve their culture and way of life,” he said.

A group of Fijian schoolchildren told the leaders it was not just sea level rise the Pacific struggles with but also heatwaves, droughts and storms, which worry their families and prevent them from learning.
Climate finance red-tape
Several Pacific leaders criticised the world’s leaders for not doing enough to combat climate change. Cook Islands Prime Minister Mark Brown expressed disappointment that only two non-Pacific leaders had come to the pre-COP, a fact Australian media widely picked up on to label the event a flop and question its A$20 million (US$14m) price tag.
“We’ve heard a lot of numbers these last two days,” Brown said. “Let me share one of my own. More than 50 invitations extended to world leaders… to see for themselves what high emissions are doing to our nations and our ocean – an ocean that covers nearly one-third of the Earth’s surface.”
He called for more climate finance for the Pacific, asking “if the world is prepared to assess our suitability for climate finance, why is it not equally prepared to scrutinise whether those responsible for delivering it are meeting their obligations?”
Like Palau’s president Whipps, Naoero’s President David Adeang criticised the red tape that is hindering access to climate finance as well as a lack of money, complaining especially about “complicated procedures, heavy reporting, delays in approval and disbursement”.
Adeang added that “the way we assess vulnerability matters”, adding that it should be measured by more than income. Naoero, for example, is classified by the World Bank as high-income, restricting which climate finance it is eligible for.
Action plan to improve access
On Thursday, the Australian government will present a statement and action plan on improving access to climate finance for small island developing states and least developed countries, which it is asking other countries and organisations to endorse.
The statement addresses some of these Pacific complaints as well as acknowledging that progress has already been made on simplifying access by multilateral development banks and climate funds.
In Fiji, Asian Development Bank head Masato Kanda said his institution is “tailoring our finance and operations to island realities” because “your children and their children should be able to grow old in the countries their ancestors have called home for millennia”.
The executive director of the Green Climate Fund (GCF), Mafalda Duarte, said that the GCF-backed coastal adaptation project leaders visited in Tuvalu shows that “climate finance works” although – as the project took eight years to implement – “it takes time, and therefore we have no time to waste”.

Australia calls for optimism
While Pacific leaders expressed concern that the world is set to blast past its agreed 1.5C warming limit, endangering their nations, Australia’s Prime Minister Anthony Albanese called for “optimism”. “If people think there is no hope, then they will not strive to get the change that we need,” he said.
He said that when he attended his first COP in 2005, Australia’s renewable energy target was 2%. Its target is now 82% renewable electricity by 2030.
While Albanese promoted Australia’s success at electrifying homes and businesses and rolling out renewables, he has been criticised by climate campaigners for extending the production of fossil fuels, including coal – largely for export.

France’s Minister for Ecological Transition Monique Barbut defended the European Union’s climate action at the pre-COP meeting. She said the continent was heating up and reducing emissions faster and providing more climate finance than anywhere else in the world.
“It is time for all major emitters to step up and do their fair share” on climate finance, she said. Most developing countries with large emissions have fiercely resisted joining the club of climate finance donors, arguing they have played a disproportionately small historic role in causing climate change.
Barbut, as well as Palau’s president Whipps, called for the next flagship scientific assessment report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) to be finished by COP33 in 2028, in time to inform the next global stocktake of national climate action.
This timeline has been opposed by countries like India, Saudi Arabia and China, who argue it would put an unfair burden on developing countries. Barbut said countries should “support the work of the IPCC rather than sabotage its calendar”.
Barbut said that governments should agree at COP31 to aim to raise the share of “clean electricity” in final energy consumption to 35% by 2035. The Turkish and Australian governments have pushed for this goal although without specifying that the electricity should be “clean”. Barbut added that COP31 should also agree to cut emissions of methane, a particularly potent greenhouse gas.
The post Pacific leaders rail at climate finance failures after pre-COP trip to Tuvalu appeared first on Climate Home News.
Pacific leaders rail at climate finance failures after pre-COP trip to Tuvalu
Climate Change
Coal mines and hypocrisy must not be Australia’s COP31 legacy
Jacynta Fa’amau is a Pacific campaigner at global grassroots climate movement 350.org and a secretariat member of Pacific Climate Warriors.
The first thing that struck me was the sheer size of Queensland’s Saraji coal mine. Standing at the edge of the enormous pit, my brain scrambled for words as I scanned the earth’s open wound – a whole island could probably fit inside it.
Looking down, I noticed footprints of an emu and a koala, pressed and dried in what was once a puddle – signs of how drought had driven animals in desperate search of water, so dangerously close to the coal trucks and heavy machinery ahead.
Earlier this year, I joined a small group of Pacific Islanders on a journey through the Bowen Basin to learn from First Nations communities battling Australia’s mammoth coal industry. Of the more than 40 coal mines operating in the area, BHP & Mitsubishi Alliance’s Saraji mine is one of the largest. So it came as a painful shock to us when in August, the Australian government approved the mine’s extension just months after our visit.
Witnessing coal extraction is devastating. It is bad enough to see what pillaging tonnes of coal can do to a mine’s immediate surroundings: dry creek beds, dwindling wildlife, denuded land. But to know that this coal will be shipped across the ocean, bring air pollution, and eventually lead to the destruction of Pacific islands thousands of miles away is another kind of heartbreak.
Rising ocean waters
I’m an Australian-born Samoan. In 2002, I visited my family home for the first time. My father took me to the rural community where generations of my family were raised. He did not have the words to describe how much has changed since rising ocean waters had taken away almost a third of the beach.
I learned of how we had to relocate my great‑great‑grandparents’ grave to higher ground twice in the last 15 years. Of how my cousins have to paddle out further to sea to catch fish, since warmer waters have destroyed much of the reef. Of how the ocean crashes so close to my uncle’s home that he had to build a new house further away.


We saw reflections of our own climate destruction in the Pacific w



