Muir, Leopold, Carson, the three most important environmental writers in history. I’d argue Dr. Seuss was more influential than those three, but, whatever. I’m not one of them, nor am I the Lorax, I do, however, keep a field journal and every now and then, I share some of those entries. This was today’s.
Earth Day 2020 … Andrew Hansen
I stand in an empty campsite, surrounded by black locust. It shouldn’t be here, neither should the bittersweet, garlic mustard, or weeping love grass. It’s my job to get rid of it. I sigh, and get to work cutting out the locust. I imagine my colleagues around the globe know that sigh, and have done it themselves, frequently.
51 years ago, Gaylord Nelson saw an 800 mile oil slick off the coast of Santa Barbara. One year later, Earth Day was created. What is Earth Day? What is the point? Is it a day to celebrate the earth? Is it a day to highlight environmental issues, is it a day to get in the field and do our part to save the planet?
An eastern fence lizard, scurries through the sand. I move, it freezes. I step in for a closer look, it darts up a tree.
Those of us who do conservation work know the challenges, we see the impacts. But there’s not many of us. Sure there’s lots of people who talk about change. But they talk about change. I’ve attended a few fisheries management meetings; the resource managers who run these almost always outnumber the public. They want to to save species X, but when they come up with a plan on how to do it, the public complains about it. Let’s just ignore the fact that those complaining had a chance to do something, but they couldn’t be bothered to show up.
My phone beeps. I was tagged in a Facebook post asking what a plant was. I give my best guess, Ornithogalum umbellatum. I’ve never encountered it in a natural area before, but it’s the closest thing I can come up with. The Flora of Delaware lists it as non-native and invasive.
Why bother? The answer to the question is another question. One I’ve asked many times before. If you have the ability to affect positive change, do you have the moral obligation to do so? If you fish, should you protect the fishery so you have something to fish for? If you hunt, should you protect the species that you hunt so that there is something to hunt? If you hike, should you protect the habitat so there is somewhere to hike?
An osprey flies overhead. It doesn’t look like it’s carrying a mummichog. Is that a mullet?
Even if you don’t believe in anthropomorphic climate change, even if you don’t think it matters if invasive species take over, even if you don’t care about what the next generations are going to deal with, you could argue that a selfish reason to protect a resource because you use it is a good a reason as any to do something. We’re stuck here. We might as well make a go at it.
Ouch! Black locust, Robinia psuedoacacia. Acacia, those big thorny things they surround campsites on the African savanna to keep out predators. Well, the name makes sense, right through the leather glove.
Andrew Hansen