The Conservation Column
Thoughts on Conservation
by Erich Reeder

During these trying times for conservation in America with the many-pronged and almost daily assaults on our natural and wild public lands and wildlife (our Inventoried Roadless Areas, Botanical Areas, Areas of Critical Concern, Late-Successional Reserves and Riparian Reserves, Wild and Scenic Rivers, National Wildlife Refuges, National Monuments, and even our National Parks) through the rescinding, rewriting, and/or reinterpreting many of our longstanding, bedrock conservation laws and regulations including the Endangered Species Act, the National Environmental Policy Act, the Roadless Area Conservation Rule, etc., it can all seem so frustrating and overwhelming.
At times like these I believe it is important to remind ourselves why we care about these natural places and the birds who live there with so many other wild species among the wildflower meadows, oak savannahs, cascading streams, flowing rivers, vibrant wetlands, majestic forests, and the wave-battered rocky coast of our spectacular region. Most of us got into this conservation business by being captivated by avian visitations and other discoveries made in these beautiful and conserved landscapes, awakening us to moments of sudden awareness, ecstasy, and grace that have enriched our lives with deeper insights into our own lives and all the life around us. These public lands and spaces, and the birds and wildlife who live there, have given us so much that we feel a moral responsibility to reciprocate that gift through protecting these places and passing them on intact to the next generation. It is a fierce, protective love.
I also find it helpful to remember the history of conservation in America, which by no means has been a walk in the park. George Bird Grinnell founded the first Audubon Society in 1886 as the plume hunters were in their heyday and market hunters were decimating shorebird populations and the epic flocks of passenger pigeons. He and others were also outraged by the foreseeable extinction of bison, elk, and other large fauna of North America by indiscriminate poaching. Others were concerned about our disappearing forests, wetlands, and other wild places.
Wildlife Refuges followed, and Forest Reserves, and then our magnificent National Monuments and Parks. More recently, our Wilderness Areas, Wild and Scenic Rivers, and Roadless Areas expanded this network of protected landscapes. None of it was inevitable; it took the dedicated, hard work of many individuals working alone and together over decades, collaborating with other organizations and promoting laws and legislation with the shared vision of conserving our public lands and wildlife—not only for those alive now, but for those untold generations to come. This is our shared legacy.
Thankfully, there have always been, and continue to be, passionate, concerned, dedicated, and joyful people who share this vision and are willing to contribute their time, energy, knowledge, and resources to conserve and protect our wild public landscapes and the birds and other wildlife who inhabit them. It is a deep calling that generally takes hold of the individual in one of these wild places and then resonates outward into the wider community.
Unfortunately, there have also been, and continue to be, a small number of people who view what is left of our natural and wild public landscapes as untapped resources, at the great expense of this priceless public legacy. History teaches us that as long as there is anything to gain from our public domain, there will be someone there to go after it. As John Muir warned a hundred years ago, “nothing dollarable is safe.”
It is up to every generation then to discover and cherish these ecologically vital and incredibly beautiful public lands and to meet these threats. By doing so, we may pass on these public lands unmarred to the next generation to discover and be enriched by, and to then love and protect. That’s the way conservation works. Or doesn’t, for if any generation slips into complacency or loses connection with these wild public places, the whole system of our protected landscapes and the birds and other wildlife which depend upon them, so long and hardworked for, can all fall apart.
Fortunately, as a species our senses are tuned to observe and engage with the natural world and it is deeply embedded in who we are as human beings to notice and wonder at the mysterious lives of other species. That is why it is so important that early in their lives, as children, teenagers, and young adults, people are able to find and make a connection with a particular stream or forest or park or place and connect with the birds, butterflies, wildflowers, trees, or other animals and plants they see there. It gives them an honest affinity for these places and the lives who live there.
A big part of Audubon’s role in the past and hopefully long into the future, has been helping people of all ages, abilities, and backgrounds make that connection, by presenting speakers, holding bird-centric events, supporting educational projects and scientific research, and, perhaps most importantly, guiding field trips into some of our beloved natural areas so others too may fall in love with them and speak up for their conservation. We must continue all of these important and proven programs and whenever and wherever think of new ways to expand on them.
The misguided efforts to enter our cherished public lands with more roads, more logging, more mining, and more destruction, may have sway right now, but these incredible public landscapes and the wildlife who live there have the boundless beauty and power to inspire everyone with an open human heart to love and action. Furthermore, all the science supports continuing and expanding conservation of our public lands to mitigate the biodiversity and climate crises. The science also supports all of the laws, rules, and regulations which support their conservation and are under attack. Beauty, inspiration, love, sound science, and the law are a lot to fight back with.
How? Same as always: stay informed, write letters to editors, call your representatives, write comments and attend meetings during the NEPA process on proposed projects on our public lands, assist conservation organizations and legal groups who are challenging this assault on our public lands, support our friends at our strained federal agencies, and think of new ways (or old ways set aside) to engage the public to participate in conservation efforts. Indeed, there’s a lot of work to do, but let it be joyful work.
Finally, autumn is a celebratory season, with harvests and feasts and games and fungi and friends and changing colors and, of course, bird migrations. These migrations themselves are real-life manifestations of hope and faith in the present and future. The high swirling calls of Greater White-fronted Geese passing by overhead this time of year are a hopeful action begun together at their breeding grounds thousands of miles to the north and taken on the faith of a good if uncertain outcome. So, let us remember this in the coming months, to keep our own hope and faith alive in our hearts and share it with each other as we celebrate our lives out in the fields and forests with birds and at our homes with friends and families.
Cheers!