An Ageless Almanac

One of the true signs of great nature writers is that their meaning and purpose is timeless. That doesn’t necessarily mean the writers’ words and style aren’t dated, which adds flavor and voice to the flow of their prose, but does suggest that what applied to the environment in the past, with changes in the detail, still apply today. One nature writer I’m referring to is Aldo Leopold.

In the course of researching my book, one of my interviewees mentioned the works of Aldo Leopold, which I had read many years ago, and then filed away in my physical and mental library. Leopold’s A Sand County Almanac published in 1949 by the Oxford University Press and still in print today, is a series of enduring nature tales topped off by his messages of ethics.  Leopold was trained as a professional forester who saw order, disorder, mystery, beauty, and brutality in nature. He enjoyed the hunt, the trek for wily trout, and the observation of wildlife and wrote essays relating to all three. After his observations of geese, woodcocks, skunks, meadow mice, deer, and others, Leopold discussed his ideas of the interrelatedness of man and the rest of nature. His concept of “the land ethic,” a respect for the land, and human responsibilities to nature set the standard for conservationists and a model for nature writers who followed for the next sixty years.

Anyone interested in ecological issues continuing today should check out the Aldo Leopold Foundation site at http://www.aldoleopold.org/. A Sand County Almanac is a great read and a reminder of what nature and human ethics are all about.

A Proud Cult Membership

DDT was billed as the “miracle pesticide” after its successful use during World War II in protecting our troops from insect-borne diseases such as malaria and typhus. In the mosquito-infested jungles on Pacific islands where American soldiers and marines fought to take back Japanese-held territory malaria frequently caused more casualties than the enemy’s bullets and artillery. DDT spraying eliminated large portions of mosquito populations freeing troops to fight. DDT became the GI’s best friend.

After the war DDT was used everywhere insects were considered a problem. Everywhere. The chemical was hawked as harmless to humans and wildlife and a boon to mankind. DDT was manufactured and applied in a scale that was measured in the millions of pounds. DDT was a persistent pesticide, in that it was insoluble in water and so retained its lethality to crop-eating insects over more than one growing season. What wasn’t known was the phenomenon of bioaccumulation, in which both plants and animals concentrated DDT in their tissues at far greater strengths than was originally applied. The environment became saturated with DDT. In the robins that ate contaminated earthworms that fed on the leaves that dropped from trees sprayed with the chemical. In fish-eating birds, such as eagles and double-crested cormorants, that ate fish that ate smaller fish that concentrated the poison from their food and the environment.  In short order the ecosystem supported few birds, fish, and beneficial insects.

Rachael Carson was a marine biologist who spoke out with fervor against this widespread and careless use of DDT in so many applications. Her book, Silent Spring, told the story of how DDT weakened so many organisms in “sinister” ways. In addition to its neural toxicity, the chemical’s estrogenic properties, in which it mimicked female reproductive hormones, caused birds to lay thin-shelled eggs that cracked under the pressure of the incubating parents’ weight, caused heartbreaking birth defects, and “feminized” the males of many species in the food chain. DDT robbed many species of their basic ability to reproduce.

Chemical companies manufacturing the various versions of DDT demonized Rachael Carson and her work.  Their greed and arrogance became the industry’s trademark. They called Carson a “fanatic” and in “the cult of the balance of nature.” The cult of the balance of nature. As if supporting nature, the environment, our environment, was some kind of dark, malevolent movement. Well, the movement was so dark, so malevolent that in 1972 the newly formed EPA, under the direction of the often maligned William Ruckleshaus, banned the use of DDT in the United States.

The Cult of the Balance of Nature is one group in which we all should claim membership.

Double-crested Cormorants: Perceived as Invaders

Much of the conflict between cormorants and humans on the Great Lakes stems from the mistaken assumption by many people that the cormorant is a non-native intruder to the area.  Cormorants historically had a presence on the lakes in numbers that may have even exceeded the numbers we see there today. Even as late as the mid-1950s many double-crested cormorants nested on Great Lakes islands. As the effects of persecution and DDT progressed, cormorant numbers declined sharply. And as cormorants declined for several decades, human collective memory of their presence and nesting colonies declined as well. Generations of Great Lakes commercial, charter, and recreational fishermen simply forgot about cormorants and the role they had played in the lakes environment.

The EPA banned DDT in 1972, giving double-crested cormorants an appeal from extinction as their thin-shelled eggs again became viable. Feeding primarily on the plentiful alewives and round gobies, the true invasive species, cormorant numbers increased exponentially. New generations of fishermen, unfamiliar with the cormorant’s history on the lakes, considered re-colonizing cormorants exotic thieves stealing what belonged to them alone -- the fish. To anglers the situation was intolerable. The guns came out, cocked and ready to fire.

Not so Exotic Exotics

One of the largest peripheral issues I came across in researching my book on cormorants was the introduction of non-native marine and aquatic species into already stressed ecosystems. It happens all over the world, usually as a result of careless or illegal ballast dumping by commercial shipping. These invasive species sometimes enter the system through intentional introduction, as attempts to rectify perceived economic or environmental failures.

One current species in the news is the Silver Carp, introduced into the United States – Arkansas -- in 1973. As a plankton feeder, planners thought silver carp could clean up clogged waters by purging them of overabundant phytoplankton. It was also thought to be a possible food fish. Between releases and escapes these fish spread through many states via numerous river systems. With few or no predators silver carp overpowered native species in their numbers. And as filter feeders, in addition to clearing the phytoplankton, the carp consumed the floating larvae and juveniles of many native species.

Silver carp, besides out-competing the natives, exhibit a unique behavior in the presence of running boat engines. They jump – by the hundreds – bashing boat windshields and boaters alike moving through their waters. Right now the carp are on the verge of entering the Great Lakes system and threatening those inland seas fisheries, perhaps to a degree of that may not be recoverable.

A simple action intended as a simple remedy, again. President U.S. Grant tried essentially the same scheme about a hundred years ago, after the Civil War, in an attempt to feed and nurture the county’s growing cities. He ordered his newly formed Fish Commission to find a fish that might be cultivated as a food source and might be useful in clearing choked algae-clogged waterways. Asian carp, in a number of varieties, filled the bill. They were imported, then released and escaped into waterways and eventually made their way throughout the country. Instead of clearing rivers and lakes carp managed to darken and stain the waters with silt and mud as they rooted into the bottoms searching for food. As far as being a food fish went, they found their way onto dinner tables and restaurant menus for a time, but lost favor as the saltwater fisheries grew with the emergence of refrigerated railroad cars.

Today, we live with the destructive Asian carp. In four-foot sizes, they are found nearly everywhere, except as common dinner fare and on restaurant menus. An exotic less than exotic now and a lesson not learned.

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