 The Road to Hell These days it’s not easy to be a single dead tree, or a clump of dead trees, or even a clump of live trees growing next to a few dead pines. If you do happen to be any of these things, every able-bodied human wants to see you cut down, stacked, or burned along with any leaf litter, branches, and clumps of moss in the vicinity. Heavy machinery will be enlisted to snap, break, and scrunch offending trees into giant piles of debris. And heavy machinery will chew up whatever is left of the topsoil to such an extent that an objective observer might think they were witnessing some horrible punishment exacted on a criminal element that deeply and gravely offended the punisher. But no, it is simply humanity blundering about cleaning, and making things tidy - woe betide any other species that happen to get in the way. It’s no better if you happen to be a raggedy-ass riparian area sitting next to a rural residential area. Some outdoor recreation zealot will come along in an attempt to degrade your value as wildlife habitat in order to make intrusive trails through your brambles, mow your rank grass, and groom you until you are fit territory for a paunchy housecat or overfed dog. What’s a tattered natural area to do in the face of such single-minded barber-barbarism? Unfortunately, the natural world is the epitome of passive resistance. No matter the threat, few trees will take a swing at people who wish them harm, and few creeks will rise up and wash away the houses of those who denude creek banks or shorelines in an effort to make a groomed area fit for livestock, or other domestic mammals. Granted, there are occasions when trees and creeks do appear to lash out at those who “did them wrong” but generally the world of nature plays a waiting game, hedging its bets on a larger comeuppance, something like say, global warming. Unfortunately, one man’s warming warning is another man’s opportunity knocking. Man continues to make hay even when the hayfield is on fire. But wait! All is not lost. Nature has another ally. It is us. Yes, the same louts who do nature wrong also wish to do nature right. But are the hands of the would-be do-gooders cleaner than anyone else’s? Of course not. We all wreak havoc through our actions. We alter the landscape when we set fires to debris piles. We pollute when we drive cars, fly in aeroplanes, or storm about on snowmobiles. We should value other species even when we do not directly benefit from them. “Nature” has become just another marketing tool used to sell overpriced un-needed sports utility vehicles. We are all pressured to consume, but must resist. Do we need to spend money on another plastic Christmas toy which serves only to improve some corporate bottom line and adds nothing to the value of our own lives? Humanity is in trouble. We wring our hands and rush fitfully towards self destruction. Most take no action. Were it not an inertia caused by the stress of knowing the overwhelming forces aligned against us, I’m sure we’d do something about our dire future. But wait, all is not lost. We still hope that something we do, maybe just some little thing, mind you, will make a difference. And so it was that a few days ago I received a request to do one of those little things. I was asked to write, and then e-mail my concerns about the importance of a certain riparian area to local and migrating birds. The hope existed that my jottings may have some impact on a faction wishing to drive a trail through a raggedy-assed strip of riparian area. I use the term raggedy-ass not to denigrate the precious riparian area, but to imply this is all that is left of a habitat which once surrounded a local wetland. This fragment of poplar, and willow, with an odd evergreen border is a tattered remnant of former glory, yet plans to do it further damage are afoot I’ve made many trips to this spot and brought back many memories of unique birding adventures. I would gladly speak on its behalf. Unfortunately I retrieved the message from my answering machine shortly before my response was required, and did not have enough time to piece together something coherent. Oh, I tried. But what was likely the passion rising in me about the topic had me penning long-winded passages about nature and rhapsodizing about what it means to me and what we all lose if we don’t stop what we’re doing. Time was flying. Finally, about ninety minutes before the meeting was held, I phoned the people and admitted my failing. Luckily the lady jotted down some of my key phrases as I spoke to her on the phone and I wished her luck. Note: Thankfully the story of the threatened riparian area has a happy ending. I learned just a few moments ago that at the meeting a resolution was adopted to protect the natural corridor from future development. Thanks to those who rallied and spoke up in the name of nature. To e-mail Tom CLICK HERE To look at previous column CLICK HERE |
