- (Public Value) UCANR: Protecting California's natural resources
- Author: Cameron Barrows
A "Natural History Note" From UC California Naturalist's lead scientist, Dr. Cameron Barrows.
“It is that range of biodiversity that we must care for - the whole thing - rather than just one or two stars.” – Sir David Attenborough
That range of biodiversity includes the panoply of life occupying a region. Everything from charismatic species (those one or two stars), bighorn sheep, collared lizards, wolves, and mountain lions, to microscopic soil organisms. Everything from diaphanous-winged butterflies and damselflies to the parasitic wasps that keep insect populations from becoming so numerous that they would otherwise consume all plant life on earth. Everything from towering sequoias to pond scum. Those microscopic soil organisms are essential for helping plants convert inorganic minerals to the building blocks of life and for capture moisture in an ever more arid desert. That pond scum is an organic factory converting sunlight and carbon dioxide to oxygen.
In 1798 Thomas Malthus, an English economist, published an essay on the principle of population growth. Malthus' math was elegant, and its conclusion undeniable. In the absence of factors that limit population growth, populations will grow geometrically until some critical food resource was exhausted and then the population would crash into oblivion. Malthus was thinking humans, but his conclusions are applicable to all species. Arguably no other document was as inspirational to both Charles Darwin and Alfred Russel Wallace for their independent development of the Theory of Natural Selection. Malthus' math was clear; based on any species' reproductive capacity, we should be neck-deep in lizards, spiders, voles, wrens, bighorn sheep and coyotes. Obviously, that is not the case, but from those two conclusions, what the math predicted and what we can see with our own eyes, Darwin and Wallace deduced that species underwent a struggle for existence. That struggle included within and between species competition, avoiding predation, parasitism, disease, and natural disasters. That struggle was real and intense enough that only those individuals that could survive those challenges would ultimately survive and pass their genes on to the next generation. So, species are being subjected to an on-going gauntlet of threats, as are the parasites and viruses and predators, ensuring that species do not reach such numbers that their populations would then crash into oblivion.
Aldo Leopold, in his essay “Thinking like a Mountain”, acknowledged that early on he too fell into the trap of valuing species as “good” or “bad”. “Good” species were those charismatic vegetarians like deer and sheep and squirrels. “Bad” species were non-human carnivores, wolves and coyotes and mountain lions. Leopold, in his early years, sought to rid the rangelands of predators to ensure that deer and other “good” species could proliferate. Proliferate they did, so much so that they ate all the available palatable plants, the forests and rangelands were degraded, and the deer began to die of starvation. It was a mistake people have repeated and continue to repeat to this day. Mountain lions and wolves are now gone from eastern North America, and the deer populations have exploded causing widespread starvation and disease. Not long ago I heard a local bighorn sheep biologist celebrate the death of a mountain lion because it meant more sheep would survive, but he did not include the reality that “his” sheep now face hillsides incrementally devoid of palatable food and flowing springs because of climate change.
A few years back I attended a lecture by a young biologist telling of his efforts to explain to cattle ranchers why their animals were faced with food shortages. The ranchers were convinced that the bison, who shared the grasslands with their cattle, had become too abundant and needed to be “culled”. The biologist patiently explained that, based on his analyses, that the bison and cattle were selecting different plants to eat. The ranchers argued back that the bison must be to blame. The biologist again patiently explained that it was not the bison, it was jackrabbits that were competing with their cattle for food. The ranchers stared is silence, trying to identify where the biologist's analysis and logic had been in error. One of the ranchers finally spoke, not to the biologist but to the other ranchers, and said that perhaps they (the ranchers) had been overzealous in killing coyotes. A healthy coyote population would have kept the jackrabbit population from a Malthusian population trajectory, and so would have left sufficient forage for bison, jackrabbits, and the ranchers' cattle. Attenborough's call for to care for and protect biodiversity, all species (including humans), is the only sane path forward.
We are excited to let all California Naturalists, Climate Stewards, and course partners know that we are nearing the final stages of a big transition to a new and much improved Volunteer Management System! Ever feel a little frustrated with the limitations and service disruptions in our current system? We hear you, we share your frustrations, and we think you'll really like the new system!
We anticipate the Volunteer Management System will be available in mid-February 2022. We have chosen a custom built system developed by Oregon-based Ideal-Logic. There may be up to two weeks of system downtime in early February. We'll provide short training videos and FAQ to assist new users. We believe that users will find the new system more intuitive and robust. For central UC California Naturalist staff and our course partners, the new system will streamline data collection systems, trigger volunteer milestones, and make reporting simpler.
California Naturalists and Climate Stewards that want to receive a 40-hour annual service pin for 2021 will have until January 31 to enter their 2021 volunteer hours in the current system. As with 2020 we have opted to lower the hours requirement to receive a service pin from 40 hours down to 15 to accommodate the safety issues and closures stemming from COVID-19 as well as impacts from another long and destructive wildfire season.
2020 Volunteer pins have arrived but have NOT been sent to individuals. Please look for an email soon from Eliot Freutel describing your delivery options. We know you'll love them, and hope you think they were worth the wait!
Thank you for the work you do to increase the resilience of California's ecosystems and communities. We appreciate you.
- Author: Adina M. Merenlender
Guest author Adina Merenlender is the founding Director of the UC California Naturalist program, and writes about the North Coast Biogregion for California Biodiversity Week 2021.
California's Northern Coastline is a refugia where the local climate is relatively stable compared to rates of climate change in other parts of California. This is particularly true if we continue to experience a drier future under climate change. The resilience to immediate rapid change is due to the influence of the Pacific Ocean and the topographic diversity of the coastal mountain ranges.
Steep coastal watersheds provide an escape route for species to move up to higher elevation or down to cool air drainages to escape the heat. Summer fog buffers terrestrial plant communities from extreme heat and freezing temperatures and frost is rare close to the ocean, making for more mild winter temperatures. The mild temperatures and higher humidity year-round are ideal conditions for plant growth and the Northcoast harbors very diverse plant communities.
For many, redwoods, the charismatic mega-flora, that create unparalleled cathedrals filled with majestic qualities may come to mind. But those towering trees leave little sun or nutrients for the plants below. The real biodiversity hotspots are coastal prairie and scrub communities where rare flowering plants can still be enjoyed. Whereas interior woodland wildflowers come and go over a short Spring season, coastal prairies offer a seemingly ever-changing wildflower show from January through September. The show starts with manzanita and Lupin and ending with pearly everlastings and Dudleyas.
These coastal refugia might provide endemic plant communities time as temperatures rise, but we need to act now to curb greenhouse gas emissions so that these cooler moist areas can persist over a longer time horizon.
September 4-12, 2021 is California Biodiversity Week. Join us in celebrating the unique biodiversity and renewing our commitment to stewarding the state's incredible natural heritage! During the Week, CalNat is posting blogs authored by members of our community, ending in our September 14th CONES event from noon-1:00 PM. Be sure to also check out a list of activities and resources online from the CA Natural Resources Agency!
Guest author Siera Nystrom is a certified UC Merced Vernal Pools and Grassland Reserve California Naturalist, and writes about the Sacramento and San Joaquin Biogregions for California Biodiversity Week 2021. You can follow more of Siera's writings posted on Notes from a California Naturalist.
September marks the beginning of a great awakening across California's Great Central Valley. As summer fades quietly into the warm, golden tints of autumn, long-absent birds begin to return, filling sleepy wetlands with sound and color and motion, the throbbing pulse of life.
Scattered up and down the Central Valley, carefully engineered wetlands, many of which are managed by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service as National Wildlife Refuges, provide pockets of protected habitat, humble but precious remnants of what was once an extensive system of freshwater marshes, sloughs and riparian corridors, linked together within a mosaic of arid upland habitats stretching the length of the Valley.
Native Yokut people, who have long called this beautiful valley their home, make wise use of the natural abundance found here, their lives intertwined with and dependent on the bounty of the wetlands. Tule reeds, which grow in the still, freshwater marshes and sloughs once so characteristic of this region, provide plentiful food and fiber, while the marshes themselves afford valuable habitat for a seasonal abundance of waterfowl, a rich and reliable food source for the Yokut.
The majority of the Central Valley's freshwater marsh habitat has long since disappeared – and with the wetland, her people. Diked and drained, paved and plowed beyond recognition during the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the once abundant freshwater marshes of the Valley vanished at the hand of progress.
Like the coming of the first autumn rains, the mid-twentieth century once again brought change to the Valley's wetlands: change and hope. Through the Herculean efforts of both government and private organizations, with the cooperation of conservation-minded landowners, wetland restoration began in earnest.
Three quarters of a century later, the Central Valley wetlands of today are a far cry from the wild places they once were before European settlers arrived. Though highly fragmented and intensively managed, freshwater marshes in the Central Valley persist as functional blocks of priceless habitat for the wide array of plants and animals that rely on them. And, most importantly, they are protected in perpetuity.
Though the damage to Central Valley wetlands can never be undone, it can be somewhat mitigated: water can be redirected to fill dry sloughs and sinks, native plants can be regrown. The tules themselves breathe new life into rehabilitated wetlands, drawing wildlife into their sheltering thickets. Migratory birds are drawn by instinct to the mild winter climate of the Central Valley, following ancient flyways to return each autumn to their ancestral overwintering grounds.
Yes, hope remains for the diverse assemblage of species that rely on Valley wetland habitats.
A cursory glance across the Central Valley landscape from the highway belies its true value. What the casual observer sees are rural communities, sprawling towns and cities, and the intensive farming operations of one of the most productive agricultural regions in the U.S. But tucked away, hidden within the rigid patchwork blocks of almond orchards and corn fields, are the sinuous curves of meandering sloughs and marshes, painstakingly carved out of the landscape and set aside for the birds – and for the future.
During the short, gray days of winter, waterfowl overwhelm the wetlands: ducks and geese swirl through the air like avian confetti, and blanket open water like drifts of snow; Tundra Swans glide through dense tule fog like apparitions, emissaries from the Arctic.
With the coming of spring, the animated chatter of Marsh Wrens, buzzing notes of Song Sparrows and rollicking songs of Common Yellowthroats fill wetlands with a joyous chorus, the sound of life reveling in a landscape that has suddenly cast off her somber winter tones in exchange for vibrant green finery.
But spring is fleeting, and all at once Valley wetlands are plunged into the heat of yet another seemingly endless summer, the lush growth of April rapidly fading to the dry, muted shades of August. Pools of water shrink before drying completely to reveal basins of cracked mud. All is still and quiet in the wetland, save the soft droning of dragonfly wings and the rustling of dry reeds in a hot breeze.
After sleeping through the long, dry days of summer, tule marshes awaken in the autumn with the return of countless millions of birds, from raptors and songbirds, to waterfowl and shorebirds. And with them come perhaps the most iconic Central Valley bird of them all, the Sandhill Crane.
From late September through the end of March, these elegant, three-foot tall birds grace Central Valley wetlands with their stately presence, bestowing on the tule marshes a certain dignity that is lacking in their absence. Large flocks of Sandhill Cranes spend the winter months in the gold-and-gray landscape of Central Valley marshes, dancing and grazing in fields of grain grown especially for them. In a scene that has remained unchanged for countless generations, trailing skeins scrawl across the sky, silhouetted against the sunset as the cranes fly in for the night, seeking refuge in the wetlands.
With autumn on the way again, the marshes know that change is coming: change and hope. Slowly, quietly, imperceptibly at first, the seasons begin to shift. Morning mist lies heavily over the water; a cool breeze stirs; cottonwood leaves fade from green to gold. With any luck, the autumn rains begin.
And once again, the birds return to this special place, the place their ancestors have relied on for millennia. Once again, the cranes' bugling cries sound across foggy marshes, haunting echoes of the prehistoric heart and soul of the Great Central Valley.
September 4-12, 2021 is California Biodiversity Week. Join us in celebrating the unique biodiversity and renewing our commitment to stewarding the state's incredible natural heritage! During the Week, CalNat is posting blogs authored by members of our community, ending in our September 14th CONES event from noon-1:00 PM. Be sure to also check out a list of activities and resources online from the CA Natural Resources Agency!
- Author: Gregory Ira
The California Biodiversity Collaborative correctly identifies “engage and empower” as one of four key strategies for biodiversity conservation. Together with “knowledge,” “protection, “and “restoration,” the state seeks to put people at the center of its strategy to protect the genes, species and ecosystems that sustain our society and economy. The emphasis on engagement and empowerment is well founded as it is one of the most challenging but necessary elements of the strategy. The UC California Naturalist program provides an excellent example of how the state can engage and empower more people to support this important statewide initiative.
Biodiversity conservation can't be accomplished without mobilizing a good percentage of the 40 million people in the state whose daily choices and actions directly affect biodiversity. The decentralized nature of biodiversity means that its conservation requires the participation from many - not just elected officials, agency personnel, and scientists. The challenge of engaging a large percentage of the state's population in any form of normative behavior has been illustrated nicely by the COVID-19 pandemic. Knowledge and information alone will not bring about changes in behavior. The experience of the UC California Naturalist program suggests a few approaches that may help catalyze meaningful public engagement and empowerment: 1) transformative learning experiences; 2) participation in locally relevant efforts, and 3) building relationships and cultivating a shared identity that reinforces and sustains participation.
Many of our course participants describe their experience in their California Naturalist course as something that “opened their eyes” or “gave them a whole new way of viewing the environment around them.” Talented instructors, hands-on learning experiences, and opportunities for reflection – such as journaling – help participants critically examine long held assumptions and beliefs and rethink old habits. These changes are primed and amplified when we experience disrupting, disorienting, and discrepant events such as record breaking wildfires, extreme weather events, and pandemics. At the end of their course, California Naturalists don't simply walk away with new knowledge and a certificate. With new eyes, they see the world differently, with new beliefs they understand their environment differently, and with new skills, they contribute in new ways. The manifestation of these changes is often in the form of increased volunteer service.
Engagement is another important part of the California Naturalist learning experience. Every California Naturalist completes an eight-hour volunteer service project and a class participatory science project. These projects combine learning with service, and typically focus on locally relevant issues that are important to the individual naturalist or community. Projects include everything from participation in bioblitzes, to designing native pollinator gardens, to removing invasive species, to supporting environmental education efforts. These experiences not only support learning, they often support scientific research, and in many cases they result in California Naturalists reaching and engaging others.
While engagement is important, sustaining that engagement is even more important. The California Naturalist program doesn't require volunteer service hours from its naturalists. Instead, it seeks to incentivize engagement by building a shared culture and identity. By promoting volunteer service opportunities, by celebrating the success of our naturalists and network partners, by building and inclusive and diverse community, and by promoting lifelong learning through convenings and other continuing education opportunities, the California Naturalist program advances a culture of conservation for all.
The California Naturalist program supports the mission and efforts of the California Biodiversity Collaborative. Our tag-line “Discovery, Action, and Stewardship” alludes to the importance of transformative learning, engagement, and empowerment. Together with our decentralized network of over 55 partners around the state, we believe our program is a model for advancing the goals of the California Biodiversity Collaborative.
September 4-12, 2021 is California Biodiversity Week. Join us in celebrating the unique biodiversity and renewing our commitment to stewarding the state's incredible natural heritage! During the Week, CalNat is posting blogs authored by members of our community, ending in our September 14th CONES event from noon-1:00 PM. Be sure to also check out a list of activities and resources online from the CA Natural Resources Agency!