Once upon a time in the mid-90s, I signed up for an archaeology field course in Utah. I was young, curious, and perhaps a little overconfident in my ability to “rough it.” Spoiler: I had no idea what conserving water really meant.
When we arrived at our camp on Little Creek Mesa, we were given the talk about water. Not a “drink eight glasses a day” talk — the kind that says, “You will shower once a week. You will turn the water off while you soap up. You will not linger like you’re at a spa.”
Sounds reasonable, right? Except… we were twenty university students, mostly from places where water flowed as freely as excuses for not doing the readings. Some of us had never thought twice about leaving the tap running while brushing teeth. So naturally, within the first week, our precious two-week water tank was gone. Empty. Bone dry.
Cue the consequences.
We learned quickly that you don’t magically summon a truckload of water in the desert. There were hours, even days, where we had to scrape by with nothing. Showers became mythical events. White hotel towels weeks later still came away tinted “Utah tan.”
And here’s the thing: I’m grateful for that lesson. It stuck.

Flash forward to right now: droughts, wildfires, and water shortages are no longer rare events. Here in Nova Scotia, we’re facing them too. And just like my messy desert crew, many of us are learning the hard way that water isn’t endless.
The good news? We don’t have to be perfect. We just need to use less. Every little bit helps.
Think of these not as rules, but as quirky life hacks:
Water conservation doesn’t have to feel heavy or hopeless. It can even be a little funny — the kind of funny that sticks because you’ll never forget the day your archaeology camp ran out of water and chaos ensued.
Balance isn’t about perfection. It’s about celebrating every small win. Use less when you can. Share the laugh when you miss the mark. And if all else fails, may you always have a van full of archaeologists ready to rescue you from your bad decisions.