Friendly faces in strange places

April 19, 2015April 20, 2015 / rachaelb / Leave a comment

Ol’ Lil’Squatch gets all kinds of attention. Whether it be people in their cars or on the side of the road staring, somewhat slacked jawed, maybe pointing to their buddy and then pointing to Squatch or folks, all men, wanting to chat with Tim about the solar set-up. So this chat with a local on the outskirts of Knoxville was not unusual. When it got towards the end of the conversation though the man explained that he had purchased some flat solar panels from Harbor Freight for when the “Shit hits the fan I’m not bugging out, I’m bugging in, nawmsayin?!” Complete with pointing to the ground while saying bugging iiinnnnnnn. I won’t lie these are the types of people that I have no respect for. While the comment made us chuckle the sentiment does not. It’s like the story where the man is on his roof and the flood waters are rising around him. Many people come by to try and save him from his roof but his response over and over again is that he’s waiting for God to save him. When the waters reach him he says to God why have you forsaken me? God replies I sent you a horse, a boat, a helicopter etc and each time you refused. What more can I do? This is how I feel about people waiting to use something like solar. Does he not understand that the proverbial shit is already hitting the fan? Possibly because as a society we’re unwilling to do anything that might make a difference until it’s way too late.

Photo installations at Raven Run by Brian Rust

On April the 11^th we pulled the invasive Asian honeysuckle from Raven Run Sanctuary outside of Lexington. Tim mentioned this in his last post but it’s worth a revisit. While we ran short on time to really explore the park we couldn’t help but notice what a beloved park it is considering the creative parking folks did once the lot was full that morning. The event was scheduled by a local couple of Sierra Club members. Naturally us nerds all had some interest in both birds and the flowers that have begun to show themselves for spring. There are some downers to the efforts to remove invasive plants and animals and I can understand the sentiment but, I’m in it for two reasons. First, it’s great exercise that I find way more fun than a gym. Second we need places of refuge. Places where we can do our best to keep invasives out and give local plants and animals a place to thrive.

Ten years ago when I moved to SF one of the first volunteer days I did was pulling french broom from Mt Tam. We worked with a ranger who mentioned that they were just now in the position to start planting some local shrubs and grasses in areas where they had made some real headway against french broom. I asked how long she’d been at it and she said 10 years. Very thoughtlessly I replied that I would have given up and the hurt on her face was palpable. It was a learning moment to say the least. I wonder where they are at now 20 years into the project? This came up again when the woman, Anna, who worked at the park casually threw out that perhaps in 10 years they’ll start to see some real progress. There was no defeat in her voice. Maybe in 10 years I’ll go back to Raven’s Run to see the progress for myself and give the place the time it deserved that day. It may seem like a long time and a lot of work but in just a few hours with a crew of nine volunteers we managed to clear a respectable plot of land.

The media might have us all believing that it’s either black or white, red or blue, coal or solar, logging or recreation. And it’s just not. Granted most of our interactions have been with either outdoorsy folks or fellow volunteers. Since we started our trek through Appalachia we’ve heard time and time again that the big “job creator” is work in outdoor adventures. Whether it be hiking, biking, climbing or river running people are getting outdoors. In Tennessee we spent a long time talking to a ranger at a state park who explained how back in the 70’s the TVA had to shutdown a hydro plant. That meant until it was fixed the river ran free. Business boomed. When TVA went to put it back online the backlash was fierce. Eventually they worked out a deal. That river is the Ocoee and was where the river sports for the 1996 Olympics out of Atlanta took place. Nearby is the Hiawasee river noted for it’s constant flow of water (thanks to the TVA). It’s the river of choice for novice boaters. We also chatted up our ranger in the Smokies when getting our backpacking permit, also a river man. The salesman at REI talked to us for the better part of an hour about his love of photography, Napa and his upcoming river trip in Utah. After our volunteer day at Raven Run the folks who got us all together very sweetly took us out to dinner. We could have chatted for several more hours talking of the places we’ve been and where we should all go next.

It seemed only fair that this should all be burned in a giant heap of coal during our days in West Virginia. Coal country in south WV was a strange place stuck in another time. These towns and homes are depressed, the river is clogged with trash. This is not a business that has much life left in it. While coal “keeps the lights on” it’s not keeping people employed. Coals days are most definitely numbered, at least in Appalachia. However, driving further on to an eastern portion of the state for a bike ride along the Greenbrier River Trail we saw a whole other side to West Virginia. It’s not only beautiful it’s also rich in outdoor activities, giving credit to the state’s slogan of “Wild and Wonderful”. We stopped in a cafe for a beer and bite in Marlinton, WV where we got to chatting with a local couple. It was a lovely and informative conversation with folks who very much think like we do.

Big pile o’ honeysuckle

After West Virginia we moved onto Natural Bridge Virginia and yet another volunteer opportunity to pull the invasive honeysuckle. The honeysuckle not only crowds out and thus shades out native plants it’s suspected to produce an allelopathy to keep other plants at bay. This effort was coordinated by the Nature Conservancy for an Earth Day event. There were almost 100 volunteers for the day for both pulling invasive plants and trail building followed by a nice lunch at the historic Natural Bridge Hotel. The event brought in a large group from a nearby college, a local group of AT trail maintainers, staff from both Virginia senator offices and several others just wanting to help make a difference for the day. I hope everyone there that day took a look around at the work that was accomplished and felt good about the day. Even though there is still much work to be done at Raven Run, Natural Bridge and all the other parks, sanctuaries and preserves it will make a difference even if only a handful of people keep chipping away at it each month.

To Seek

April 11, 2015 / rachaelb / Leave a comment

It’s cold again. I don’t have to get out from under the covers to know this. I can see our breath as we yawn and stretch and begin to talk of coffee. I just wasn’t as mentally prepared as I told myself I was when we were leaving the summer like conditions of Florida. It all feels very familiar, the leafless and seemingly lifeless trees, the hands so cold it hurts. We drove from summer back into winter since ten days into it spring has yet to show. But there it is again, the pop of red from out of the woods. We started seeing this tree all the way back in Louisiana, up into middle Mississippi and along the Florida panhandle. Try as we might to get an up close look we couldn’t seem to find a spot where the trees red leaves were close enough to the ground to really see. We just looked in vain at the red fluttering above our heads. A tree that hasn’t let go of it’s red autumn leaves. Are they leaves?
Last December on a trip to Yosemite Tim and I managed to get every passerby curious as to what we were looking at in the grass along the path. We had to sheepishly tell them it was fungus that had grown off a piece of feces. It looked like a giant caterpillar. This is how we “generalists” work. From watching a common gray squirrel to going out on a rainy day hike to see California newts, we find it all pretty interesting and we’re willing to seek it out.

We’ve become visitor center connoisseurs. If you go to a National Park and they have more than one I recommend hitting them all up if possible. Each has their own personality and often unique information about that particular locale of the park. The Sugarlands visitor and park headquarters of the Great Smokey National Park has wonderful displays from A Naturalists Notebook written by Robert G. Johnsson and illustrated by John D. Dawson complimented by taxidermy displays and believable fake versions of some plants and flowers. We liked it so much we went back to try and take in as much as possible. We found out there that Great Smokies National Park is the salamander capital of the world. There are over 30 different species of salamander within the park and several are endemic. Turns out the Smokies are a temperate rain forest. The higher elevations get up to 85 inches of rain a year and the lower around 55. With the astounding amount of rhododendrons, hemlocks and firs parts of the park felt more like the Pacific Northwest. Salamanders are amphibians so moisture is a necessity. Many salamanders are lungless and breathe through their skin. They need good clean water and air which is becoming more compromised with all the nearby coal power plants. For now though the estimated numbers are impressive.

The hunt was on! I figured with our successful California Newt experiences this should be cake. We looked under rocks and logs along streams and found many different caddisfly larvae tubes. We looked in a swamp where we found thousands of tad poles and a few millipedes. Tim began pawing at punky wood much like a bear clawing for grubs. We even saw some grubs. After a few days of this I began to think that we’d not see one after all. Then I thought about how my friend’s daughter Juniper had looked under rocks along the rocky shore back in San Diego and in doing so found a brittle star. I looked back at the stream we had just crossed and found a calmer run where a rock was just so that there was a little cave under it. When I pulled it up some silt spun around in the depression and it took a second to realize what I was looking at. I called Tim over and there it was our first of many found salamander! It was tiny, no bigger than my pinky, dark with white gills. It was all very exciting and each subsequent find no less so.

As for the trees with the stubborn red leaves, we got up close to that too. Turns out it’s the red maple and what we had been seeing was the fruit, or samara, that develop first before leaves or flowers in an effort to be ready to drop into nearby water ways when they are their highest in late spring. The red maple is actually quite common in the eastern states and has become more so with the loss of oaks and pines.

I may not always get to see the neat creatures and plants I seek but I get great joy out of the act of looking. Much like playing a game. As long as the game is fun it doesn’t matter if I win or lose. Sure I’ll gloat like the best of them and high five my teammates just like I high fived Tim, my ultimate teammate, on our successful Great Smokey Mountain salamander hunt.

To Seek

April 11, 2015April 20, 2015 / rachaelb / Leave a comment

Last December on a trip to Yosemite Tim and I managed to get every passerby curious as to what we were looking at in the grass along the path. We had to sheepishly tell them it was fungus that had grown off a piece of feces. It looked like a giant caterpillar. This is how we “generalists” work. From watching a common gray squirrel to going out on a rainy day hike to see California newts, we find it all pretty interesting and we’re willing to seek it out.

Look who decided to come out to play!

An open space of light

March 25, 2015 / rachaelb / 1 Comment

I’m not sure that I can do justice to either my experience in or the place of the Everglades in just a thousand word blog post. I spent one of the best weeks of my life in one of the most unique places in the world exploring all that I could soak up in our time there. Without too much prior knowledge I naively expected Everglades National Park to be the iconic 1000 Island Mangrove forests. In fact Everglades National Park inland is mostly the 50 mile wide “River of Grass”. A sawgrass prairie dotted by tree islands that sprout up in portions of the park that are mere inches higher in relief than the surrounding prairies. These islands range in size but are mostly teardrop in shape due to the way the water runs from Lake Okeechobee in the northeast towards the southwest out into the gulf. Or should I say used to?

South Florida is a very wet place where everything is sticky and hot. Our clothes and sheets cling to our bodies making us feel claustrophobic. The damp air collects in the fold of my neck and the backs of my knees. In the morning the condensation drips off everything we left outside to dry. When it has rained that water came down in buckets. The fattest juiciest drops of rain that I’ve only experienced in the Southeast of America. This is south Florida’s “dry” season and it’s winter. We’re definitely not in California anymore. The Everglades average about 4 inches a month during the winter. This is the same average for San Francisco’s wettest month of January. Needless to say there is still water to be seen in the Everglades during their winter drought. Other parks close parts during the winter but in the Everglades parts of the park close down because it’s too hot and way too buggy to be comfortable to visit much in the summer. Because of the very low relief of the area all the fish get concentrated into burrow ponds throughout the park. Historically, these burrow ponds were dug out only by alligators. They dig out a hole in the sawgrass so they don’t dry out. This has the added benefit of collecting the fish in the area as they move into deeper waters. This concentration of fish gives predator birds a place for a feeding frenzy. And in turn supplies the alligators with all the food they need for the winter. There are so many alligators in the Everglades that we jokingly mentioned getting sick of them. As it turns out these dinosaur like creatures who can take your hand off in a matter of seconds are quite gentle in matters of life. Mating consists of gentle stroking and nuzzling and alligator mothers protect their young for a year or even two. We got lucky at a little pond looking for tadpoles and instead found a very young clutch of alligators with what looked like their older sibling and mom nearby. The babies would walk up to each other to “cuddle” and made noises not unlike puppies. The they would open for a big yawn before settling down. (See Tim’s photo on the just photos page)

In order to develop south Florida the run off from lake Okeechobee has been channelized and now water that isn’t used for urban centers or agriculture spills out into the ocean. While there is a massive, 30 year, restoration plan in play currently 80% of the water in the Everglades now only comes from rain. A big portion of the restoration plan includes restoring more historic water flow conditions that puts the right amount of water into the river at the right time of the year. Of course clean water is of the essence. The Everglades are a low phosphorous environment and the plants are uniquely adapted to growing in those conditions. Too much phosphorous will kill off the sawgrass. With the surrounding agriculture it’s not hard to see where the excess phosphorous is coming from. Another issue is mercury in the water from an unknown origin.

No doubt the glue of the Everglades is the base of the food chain, something called Periphyton. Periphyton is a mixture of algae, bacteria and microbes. It looks much like over soggy catails and smells a bit like rotting foods. We had the pleasure of kayaking in very shallow water thick with the stuff. This made for a long stinky slog it what was otherwise an amazing kayak outing. Periphyton holds and traps in moisture so that the Everglades don’t dry out in the winter months. Periphyton also helps keep the water clean by absorbing contaminants. However, it’s sensitive to too much pollution and reacts very quickly under stress.

On top of too little clean fresh water the park is battling some formidable invasive species, most notably the Burmese python. The Everglades is the most unique biological region in North America. It’s not just a National Park but is also listed as an International Biosphere Reserve, World Heritage Site and a Wetland of International Importance. It’s at once temperate and tropical. A place where the pine and the palm intermingle, the last known place for the American Crocodile and a refuge for the Kempler’s Sea turtle. Saved by the Passionate Marjory Stoneman Douglas it was made a park in 1947. Many people since then have continued the fight to protect and restore the park to the best of their abilities. The park makes no bones about the dire situation the Everglades are in. The park brochure spells it out the best with this line “The Everglades is currently on life support, alive but diminished”. Knowing this I feel very grateful for the abundance of wildlife we saw while we were there, even if the bugs are also abundant.

An open space of light

March 25, 2015March 25, 2015 / rachaelb / 1 Comment

River of Grass

Strangler Fig on Palm

Volunteer Day: Louisiana Coast

March 10, 2015 / rachaelb / 1 Comment

With access to wifi at the Grand Isle State Park we’d been watching the weather hawkishly. With all Tim’s years as a messenger he’s got his weather favorites and I tend to find his readings to be more accurate that what the computerized meteorologists spit out. Our morning ride to the restroom and back was a lovely partly cloudy sunrise and comfortable enough for just t-shirts. No sooner had we’d put our lips to our cups then the sky turned black and the wind began to rock Squatch with massive gusts. It couldn’t have been five minutes more before an e-mail popped up; subject line: WE’RE STILL ON! Having just thawed out over the day and half of nice weather we weren’t too eager to get back outside where the temperature had just dropped 25 degrees (not counting wind chill). However, we’d been looking forward to today for almost two weeks.
Back in Port Aransas Texas I searched Louisiana Coast and habitat restoration. A few clicks later and we were signing up to plant marsh grass off Port Fourchon, LA on March 5th. We’ve done many a plantings so we knew pretty much what to expect. Ha! We had no idea. I’m not sure this is an experience we are likely to duplicate.

First let me explain that coast is a loose word in these parts. The ecologically rich marsh areas are where land is a mixture of mud, sand, fresh and salt waters that extends almost as north as it does east and west. As Tim mentioned subsidence is a huge problem (for more in depth, but good reading see: http://www.americaswetlandresources.com/background_facts/detailedstory/causes.html). While it’s most pronounced in Louisiana this issue is happening on all our coasts due to America’s over zealous building of dams (recommending the documentary Dam Nation, on netflix, very well done and ends on a high note). Marshes are also huge carbon sinks. Meaning they bring in much more carbon dioxide from the air then they put out. The extra carbon dioxide goes into the mud and is trapped there for hundreds of years.

Bundled up and caffeinated we arrived at the Port Fourchon marina right on time. We signed in, packed our lunches in our sweet new Coalition to Restore Coastal Louisiana swag bag, got some knee high rubber boots and a pep talk. Then it was off to the boats! Today was a special day too. We were lucky enough to be helping to plant Smooth Blade Cordgrass (Spartina alterniflora), which we normally pull in California, and Black Mangrove (Avicennia germinans) that is being studied by three students from University of Louisiana Lafayette. The students Eric, Taylor and Laura had laid out several plots at varying elevations and densities in order to see which plots are more successful. Current restoration plantings are at approximately a 5′ plant spread. The restoration crew learned the hard way that some plants also don’t do quite as well at certain elevations and they we needing to replant the area. Other volunteers for the day included many college students, a couple of retired friends who were pretty experienced in restoration and a few fellas from Conoco Phillips who is a also financial contributor to this project. The three boats that got us to our destination, as well as the air boat that brought the sacks of plants to the site are hired hands. Add all the food, drinks, bags, boots etc and you realize that this effort needs financial fairies as much as it needs volunteers.

Once off the boats we walked out to our destination, a previously cut pipeline channel that had been filled back in with dredge material from the local bayous. Some of this material includes oyster shells, nails, hammers, pipes and rumoredly a still good roll of duct tape. The heavier matter falling close to where the pipe pumped it in. Mostly though it’s a mixture of mud and sand. Having been raining recently the mud on top was dried and broken in polygon fractures. Walking on it gives one a new idea of what solid ground is and added to the other worldly aura of the day. The students had laid out several planting spots with flags where we needed to insert the plant plugs. But we still needed to get the plants from where they’d been air boated in some 200 yards down the channel, most still behind a small hedge of mangroves in burlap sacks weighing some 20-25lbs each. While Tim and several others hauled sleds full of plants and other necessities I got to work with my new friend Shae and one of the students to try and get the rest of the bags out from behind the hedge.

As I trudged back and forth along the quickly softening mud I was getting deeper and deeper in it. So I thought I’d stand still while the ladies brought the sacks to me and I tossed them out to be picked up. This was genius until I realized that I was over ankle deep in mud within minutes and needed to crawl forward in order to extract my boots. Shae was also falling over and had to get into deep mud to get the sacks further back. The next time the sled crew showed up I hollered out and we quickly chained ganged the sacks of plants out from the hedged area. Occasionally needing to stop the machine so that one of us could crawl out of the mud they’d inevitably sunk into. We started taking the plants out of the sacks and placing the sacks on top of the mud. Eventually with so many sacks laid out it made the area begin to feel more like trying to walk in a jump house but at least we weren’t sinking anymore. Meanwhile the wind was getting stronger and the temp dropping with every gust. By the time we started planting everyone was caked in mud and well chilled. Here’s what I love about habitat restoration volunteers though, no one complains. It’s hard dirty work yet people either love it as much as we do or don’t want to seem like they weren’t up for it. Stopping only for a quick lunch we planted a respectable amount of plants before heading back to the boats.

Sitting on the boat listening to the busy harbor radio chatter of captains and controllers, shooting the shit a bit with the students and our fellow volunteers we smiled in the comradery of the day’s work. I looked at the mud under my too long nails and looked at Tim and felt…happy.

Volunteer Day: Louisiana Coast

March 10, 2015March 20, 2015 / rachaelb / 1 Comment

Back in Port Aransas Texas I searched Louisiana Coast and habitat restoration. A few clicks later and we were signing up to plant marsh grass off Port Fourchon, LA on March 5^th. We’ve done many a plantings so we knew pretty much what to expect. Ha! We had no idea. I’m not sure this is an experience we are likely to duplicate.

Little Armored Ones

March 4, 2015 / rachaelb / 3 Comments

Taking advantage of a few days before a volunteer commitment on the coast of Louisiana we decided to drive up the Natchez Trace Parkway in Mississippi. The weather turned bitter cold making it difficult for us to want to leave the warm confines of Lil’Squatch’s cab. So it seemed the a drive was a good way to pass the time anyway. Starting the trip from Natchez we took in what we could of the historic town, most noted for it’s wealth prior to the civil war.
The “Trace” is a popular drive in the spring when the magnolias are in bloom or in autumn when the leaves are adding a different kind of color to the drive. Being winter there was hardly anyone on the road for long stretches. It’s also possibly the best paved road in MS. Making this stretch the ideal drive for our little guy. Even though the speed limit is 50 we dawdled around 35. This speed was perfect for taking in the bare wooded surroundings. Several people mentioned how they enjoy woods in the winter because you can see back into what is otherwise a well vegetated stand of trees and vines. There are many stops on the Trace that highlight Native American life, plantation life and famous civil war battles. The parkway itself highlights the old dirt route used regularly from 1800-1820 but was most likely in use long before that as a Native American trading route. I kept seeing fluttering in the woods but when I looked harder nothing was there. There is a lot of residual energy in these old woods, a lot of stories to tell and histories to haunt them.

However, there is a relative new comer here too and we saw some right on the side of the road. Armadillos! I’ve only seen Armadillos on the road in another capacity and it wasn’t as cute as what I saw before me rummaging in the soils looking for bugs to eat. The one we stopped next to paid us no nevermind as we giggled and took pictures. Such silly animals grunting and shuffling along. The nine banded armadillo, the only kind in the US, has made its way up through Texas from central America only in the last 200 years and they are slowly expanding their range upwards. Roadways have actually helped them expand their range even if they do call them a “Texas Speed Bumps”. These animals breed at a healthy rate producing four identical quadruplets almost every litter and can have up to 15 litters in a lifetime. Contrary to popular belief these particular armadillos don’t roll up into a ball (only the three banded species do) but their armor does protect their soft undersides.

While some people think they are a pest because they tear up their lawns others think they are a tasty pork like meat. However, it turns out they also can carry leprosy and you’re more likely to catch it from eating them than from just touching them. Personally I just think they are cute and am glad that I finally got to see one in its element instead of just being a poor little critter in the road.

Little Armored Ones

March 3, 2015March 15, 2015 / rachaelb / 3 Comments

The “Trace” is a popular drive in the spring when the magnolias are in bloom or in autumn when the leaves are adding a different kind of color to the drive. Being winter there was hardly anyone on the road for long stretches. It’s also possibly the best paved road in MS. Making this stretch the ideal drive for our little guy. Even though the speed limit is 50 we dawdled around 35. This speed was perfect for taking in the bare wooded surroundings. Several people mentioned how they enjoy woods in the winter because you can see back into what is otherwise a well vegetated stand of trees and vines. There are many stops on the Trace that highlight Native American life, plantation life and famous civil war battles. The parkway itself highlights the old dirt route used regularly from 1800-1820 but was most likely in use long before that as a Native American trading route. I kept seeing fluttering in the woods but when I looked harder nothing was there. There is a lot of residual energy in these old woods, a lot of stories to tell and histories to haunt them.

Conversations worth having

February 26, 2015 / rachaelb / 4 Comments

We’ve got a library on Squatch. These are books that Tim selected before we left. It’s a good selection that should go well with the theme of our trip. When I finished a John Muir book I picked Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring. I wanted a female author and the book is so famous in it’s tale. I knew it’d be heavy but I wasn’t prepared for just how wounded I would feel when reading about the effects of DDT and other broad spectrum organochlorides. At first glance it might seem that it should be a read of how we learned from our mistakes and in a way it is. On the other hand when we look at the list of herbicides and insecticides currently in play it’s easy to see that we really really didn’t.
And I’m getting double dose. We’ve been listening to a podcast called Best of Natural History Radio from BBC radio. They did a series where a man named Brent Westwood reads from his diaries that he’s kept for the last 40 years about wildlife he’s seen and recorded in his local patch (of land). This patch is in North Worcestershire and he’s lived near it his whole life. The series is broken down in the different sections of the patch and it usually goes something like this; he reads from his diary an early passage and then perhaps a second time later in life and then follows up with what he’s seeing most recently. Sadly they all almost play out the same way. He sees several of a kind of bird is excited about it and then over the course of the last 40 years they disappear. He often states that he doesn’t expect to ever see that particular bird ever again. I’m not one to shy away from heavy topics but this double whammy is a bit much, even for me. I don’t plan to cover heavy topics here too often however, I can’t help but think about how if the US stopped using DDT in 1972 and we have all these good stories to tell because of it (pelicans, bald eagles, peregrine falcons, robins etc) then why has this man recorded massive declines in birds at his local patch in the last 15 years? Nine times out of ten you can look no farther than habitat loss. But what is habitat? Or rather what three things make a “habitat”? We were recently asked this very question on a birding van tour on Padre Island National Seashore. I answered correctly when I said “food, water, shelter” but I hadn’t actually thought of habitat as three things until that very moment. I always thought in terms of shelter. Loss of chaparral, rain forest, open desert, coral reefs. These are places. They are three dimensional places though. They go up and down. From the fungus on the roots to the bears up above they create a chain of creatures. Creatures that all rely on each other for food, water and sometimes shelter. Growing up we were taught the “food chain” and now they call it more accurately the “food web”. I call it ecological Jenga. It’s easy to say well we’re cutting out habitat to build homes and have more land to farm but what of the land around the home and the farms themselves? What are we farming now that wasn’t as much of an issue when Brent started his data diary? Neonicotinoids. Specifically seeds that are coated with them before planting. The whole plant from roots to pollen is a toxic buffet for anything that tries to eat it. The problem is that birds eating the insects that ate the poisoned plant then suffer. As do the bees that visit these plants with pollens. Even worse for birds is when they eat the seeds directly. Study after study is showing that this is becoming a huge problem. Like I said I’m not afraid to read and talk about these heavy issues.

However, this time I needed a lift and I got one this last weekend at the Whooping Crane Festival in Port Aransas. In Silent Spring Rachel Carson refers to different people who contacted her about the effects of DDT. They weren’t scientists or farmers or birders or any kind of specialist. These were just folks who noticed that the birds from their backyards were gone. They didn’t sing the song of spring and the silence was deafening. I’m mean we all kind of notice birds don’t we? From herons and seagulls to hawks and doves. People notice birds whether or not they are “into” birds. So when they’re gone something seems amiss.

At the Whooping Crane Festival people come from all over the world. It’s not a giant turn out but it’s good. Here is a bird that was down to just 15 birds in 1960 and now there are almost 600. It’s been a big effort between two countries and a whole migratory path. We were able to volunteer in a very small way for the festival sure that folks made it to their van tour for two morning tours. We had also toured the trade show. It was during this time that I was reminded that there is not just a conversation going but there is action because of these conversations. One table at the trade show I stopped to chat with a fellow from Texas forestry who has a passion for helping Port Aransas deal with the Brazilian Pepper tree invasions. They’ve come up with a plan to try and eradicate them from Port Aransas (and hopefully beyond) that will be a lot of work but should be easy to implement. Before I chatted with him he was talking to a woman from Michigan who listed off a few of her local invasives. Our first volunteer opportunity on the trip was pulling the invasive bufflegrass from Saguaro National Park and before that Tim and I put our backs into pulling invasives out of San Francisco. Invasives are a hot topic and people are working hard (sweat and all) to deal with them as best we can. In between van tours we talked with a woman who works at the Chamber of Commerce who has gone through Texas Naturalist Program. We chatted briefly on how nice the wildlife viewing is in Port Aransas and the National Sea shore further south. It was nice to be reminded that eco tourism is not just for Chile and Costa Rica but right here in the states we still have good patches of land that people come from all over to partake in. And folks seem to be really understanding that we need to keep patches connected or try to reconnect them through corridors that help maintain healthy populations. And I know that there is some talk about pesticides and that the Neonicotinoids are not just being used on big Ag but that we can buy them at our local hardware store and may not even realize how harmful they are to the very things we’re probably trying to attract to our yards. It may take a law to get these harmful pesticides off farms but, we have choices in our yards and in our neighborhoods to avoid pesticides, herbicides and invasives. Keeping these things out of our yards creates (keeps?) habitat. There are whole migration paths where folks have planted specific plants for birds and butterflies that have kept these creatures from extinction. We can work with our local communities and figure out ways to grow our towns and cities in efforts that work with the natural areas in and around them. And while my thoughts on us being on the verge of an ecological revolution might be a bit too hopeful it does seem possible if we keep these topics, and how we can help, on the tips of our tongues.