Day Three (2025-present)

Aidan Clark

Every May, thousands of young Canadians migrate to camps deep in the Canadian forests. For three to four months, they live in remote parts of the bush and work as tree planters. The work is extremely grueling but rewarding. The remote nature of the job provides a brief escape from the constant stressors of everyday life. Work days begin early and last long. With full planting bags weighing around 40 lbs, planters work completely alone for 8-9 hours. Contracted out by the mills, they are tasked with replanting harvested land. Working on a piece-rate wage system, planters earn a certain centage per seedling planted. A rate that is set by the quality of the land. The worse the land, the better the pay. This uncommon system provides planters with a unique opportunity to earn a substantial amount in only a few months. The translation is simple: the harder you work, the more you plant, and the more you plant, the more you earn.
Alone all day, a planter is left with only their thoughts. The labour is punishing yet meditative. Burning up to 8,000 calories a day, planters return bruised, sunburnt, and exhausted—but together. Away from the world, they gather around long tables where stories, complaints, and laughter are shared over hot food. Spotty satellite internet and no cell service render their devices essentially useless. Without the distraction, they can truly be present. Through this presence, they are able to form incredibly strong bonds in a brief period of time. Bonds that act as a support system for all the struggles and pain that this work brings.
When the contract ends, many return home tired and relieved. This relief is brief. Soon, they will miss the simplicity, connection, and shared hardship of camp life. I belong to a generation entering adulthood at an extremely difficult time. We face accelerating climate change, eroding political systems, precarious work, unaffordable food and housing, and the relentless pressure of digital life. It often feels as though we’ve inherited a broken world, one that we are now expected to fix. The weight of this responsibility can at times feel unbearable. Tree planting offers a rare alternative: a temporary rejection of the status quo. An escape into a simpler rhythm where labour is rewarding, and community exists. A space now threatened by Donald Trump’s tariff war. With U.S. policies driving softwood production to its lowest in decade, resulting in several lumber mill closures, planting work is threatened. Fewer mills means less harvesting, resulting in fewer planting contracts being renewed. This famously Canadian job that has provided generations with both work, lessons, and community now faces risk. In May, I will be returning to this contract to both plant and continue documenting this community.

About The Artist

Aidan Clark

Aidan Clark is a Canadian photographer and visual storyteller based in Toronto. His work is heavily informed by personal experience, using vulnerability and honesty to create points of connection with others. His work explores themes of connection, community, and relationships between individuals, their pasts, and their environments.

Inspired by the work of Magnum photographers, Aidan left the pursuit of a career in health science and shifted his studies to photography at Toronto Metropolitan University (formerly Ryerson). At TMU, he has been recognized through various awards for his photobook Sonder (2024), his dedication to high-quality printmaking, and his documentary project The Happiest Times I Ever Ignored (2025).

He is currently working on Day Three, an ongoing photo documentary that examines both work/life balance and the importance of community within Canadian tree planting camps. This project has recently earned him a nomination for the Leica Oskar Barnack Newcomer Award.

Scroll to Top