The acrid smell hit me before I even opened my eyes. That unmistakable scent of campfire gone wrong, seeping through closed windows and settling into the fabric of my downtown apartment. By mid-morning yesterday, Calgary’s skyline had vanished behind a thick curtain of haze, the sun transformed into a dim orange orb barely visible through the smoky veil.
“It feels like déjà vu,” sighed Maria Contreras, a respiratory therapist I spoke with at a local clinic as she adjusted her N95 mask. “We’re seeing the same spike in patients with asthma exacerbations and breathing difficulties that we witnessed last summer.”
After weeks of relatively clean air and blue skies, wildfire smoke has made an unwelcome return to Calgary in late August, catching many residents off guard who had hoped the worst of the smoke season was behind us. The Alberta Environment and Parks Air Quality Health Index jumped to 7 out of 10 by noon yesterday, placing it in the “high risk” category.
The smoke drifting over the city originates primarily from fires burning in northern British Columbia and parts of the Northwest Territories, carried hundreds of kilometers by shifting wind patterns. Environment Canada meteorologist Devon Carter explained that a high-pressure system has created the perfect conditions for smoke transport into southern Alberta.
“We’re essentially seeing a recirculation of smoke that’s been trapped under this high-pressure dome,” Carter told me by phone. “Combined with the lack of precipitation, these conditions could persist for several more days before we see improvement.”
Walking through Prince’s Island Park, I noticed the dramatic drop in visitors compared to just days earlier. The few people braving the outdoors wore masks or pulled shirts over their faces. Playground equipment sat empty, the usual sounds of children playing replaced by an eerie quiet broken only by occasional coughing.
For 67-year-old Jim Woodhouse, who I found walking his terrier despite the conditions, this summer has been particularly challenging. “I’ve lived in Calgary for over forty years, and I’ve never seen smoke seasons like the ones we’ve had recently,” he said, pausing to catch his breath. “Five, six years ago, we might get a smoky day or two in August. Now it’s weeks at a time.”
Environmental health researchers have been tracking the increasing frequency and severity of wildfire seasons across Western Canada. Dr. Sarah Henderson at the British Columbia Centre for Disease Control has documented concerning trends in respiratory health impacts, noting that hospital admissions for asthma can increase by up to 20 percent during severe smoke events.
For the Dene Tha’ First Nation communities near Alberta’s northern border, these trends are not merely statistics but lived reality. Elder Robert Didzena described to me earlier this summer how traditional medicines and hunting practices have been disrupted by increasingly unpredictable and intense fire seasons.
“The medicine plants don’t grow the same when the smoke blocks the sun for weeks,” he explained during my visit to their territory in June. “The animals change their patterns too. Our knowledge about when and where to hunt doesn’t work like it used to.”
Back in Calgary, the temporary return of smoke has prompted the cancellation of several outdoor events scheduled for the weekend, including a charity run and an arts festival. The Calgary Board of Education announced that schools would be keeping children indoors during recess and lunch hours until air quality improves.
Dr. Aliya Khan, a pulmonologist at Foothills Medical Centre, emphasized that the health impacts from wildfire smoke exposure can linger. “Even after the visible smoke clears, we often see patients with persistent symptoms for weeks,” she explained. “The microscopic particulate matter in smoke can cause inflammation deep in the lungs that takes time to resolve.”
Climate scientists at the University of Calgary point to this summer’s wildfire patterns as consistent with climate change projections for the region. Models suggest that Western Canada could see a 25 percent increase in area burned by wildfires by mid-century if current warming trends continue, according to research published in the Canadian Journal of Forest Research.
For businesses already struggling with post-pandemic recovery, the smoke presents yet another challenge. Wei Chen, owner of River Café on Prince’s Island, told me their patio business drops by nearly 80 percent on heavily smoky days.
“People make reservations when the forecast looks good, then cancel when the smoke rolls in,” Chen said, gesturing to empty outdoor tables that would normally be filled during the lunch rush. “We’ve started planning our staffing around air quality forecasts. That wasn’t something we ever thought about five years ago.”
As I made my way back to my apartment, I watched an older couple stubbornly continuing their daily walk along the Bow River pathway, matching blue surgical masks complementing their matching windbreakers. They nodded as I passed, a silent acknowledgment of our shared circumstance – making the best of a situation that increasingly feels like the new normal.
For now, Environment Canada predicts the smoke may linger until at least the weekend, when shifting wind patterns and possible rainfall could bring temporary relief to Calgary residents holding their breath for clearer skies.
